Machiaveli, Nietzsche, Da Vinci, Shakespeare and Sun Tzu (on a student exchange from China) share an apartment in Vancouver and have to deal with the everyday problems of negotiating chores, keeping steady jobs, and arguing over whose turn it is to pick up pizza for dinner.
Every night they play a different game. Sun Tzu always wins at chess, Shakespeare at Scrabble (though the others complain that making up words is technically cheating). Nietzsche loses at everything, but this is okay because nothing means anything and he just wanders the apartment with a lamp crying that God is dead until he feels better. Da Vinci always wins at Pictionary.
They also play Charades on occasion. Shakespeare and Da Vinci team up, and usually win because Machiavelli and Nietzsche always pick abstract political or philosophical topics that the other never comes close to guessing.
Beethoven lives upstairs.
And they’re constantly trying to get him to shut up… Shakespeare makes an impassioned monologue, which he ignores, Da Vinci paints a picture of him sleeping peacefully and leaves it on the doorstep, Sun Tzu threatens him with a sword, and Machiavelli just calls the landlord. Nietzsche just shows up outside his door with his lamp and intones “God is dead.” Beethoven slams the door in his face and goes back to attacking his piano with a hammer.
I still need to write birthday fics for some friends, but I think that Bartolomeo Cristifori deserved a birthday fic and I knew just what to write.
Big thanks to the wonderful and incredible rebornfromash for betaing. I love you so much darling!!
A party. Soul was throwing a party for death’s sake. He hated his own birthday, but this, this, was a special occasion that “needed to be observed with the highest respect and celebrated in the greatest fashion.” So there she was on her way to Kid’s mansion to see what the hell Soul had planned for this party.
It seemed like hours and then slowly turned into days since he last saw her. Was their argument truly that upsetting? Was she really gone for good? He had taken his sorrows out on his piano. Hammering on the keys in tears and weeping over the wooden object in despair when his music didn’t bring her back. At least her disappearance had awoken his muse. Sheets of music notes scattered all over the study. All the lights had been turned on and the house had looked lived in. Well, lived in by a lonely seeming bachelor. Maybe she really was as upset with him as she claimed. Should he have taken her concerns more seriously? A bunch of thoughts passed through SS’s head as he moved around in the living room noticing there were so many pictures of her family but none of them. Since when did he become so sentimental? “Of course i’ve grown soft. The woman makes me soft…” he grumbled as he folded his arms along the fireplace mantle and rested his head. Melancholy taking him over in one giant swoop of thought. “Why does the lady torture me so? Is it an endless punishment for not being a very welcoming man? Where is the understanding… the unity in our love that overlooks what she might perceive as a flaw of mine,” he muttered to himself.
Whether they’re fans or detractors of Steinway — and there are many of both — top artists are looking not for bells and whistles but the inspiration that comes from playing on a superb instrument, superbly prepared by a knowledgable technician. And inspiration, of course, is as individual as a player — and as a top-of-the-line piano.
“When the piano responds on all dynamic levels, from pianissimo to sforzando and fortissimo, and gives the pianist tonal palette, you never want to leave that piano bench,” says Garee. “It’s when that particular instrument went together, when all the stars went together, material science, geometry, engineering, and the resilience of the piano hammer to respond to its soundboard. When all that comes together, it doesn’t matter what brand it is. It’s magic.”