Melody and Memory
They say that the most closely related sense to memory is taste. Or was it smell? Honestly, I forget. The two are halfway built into each other, and more often than not one is preceded by the other. And let me tell you, I can tell you that's true.
Breakfast ain't complicated you know? Most of the time it's something to do with eggs and some sort of bread. A little bit of greasier than normal meat and milk? Bam, you're gold for nearly every breakfast. Eggs and Toast? Easy. Omelet, hashbrowns and bacon? Same thing. Biscuits and sausage gravy? Pancakes and sausage links? Muffins and milk? Cereal? All the same stuff. That's why I loved making people breakfast.
It all smelt so similar, that it felt like home.
But right now, I ain't anywhere near that old diner, nor a kitchen of any sort. I don't smell pancakes and syrup, or the crackle of bacon and the sizzle of sausage patties. Nah. It smells like old people and soap here.
Cause for me? Right after taste and smell comes sound. And that's what I'm hearing. Singing.
The sound of a dozen dozen voices that haven't sounded quite right in years, all off key and out of sync, ignoring the parts to the music and disregarding the slightly out of key piano. A music director with a tie that doesn't quite fight right, and a sparkle in his eye with youth that doesn't fit his old frame. The weird smell of loafers that you know only come out today, and the old hardness of pews that feel like they were made to destroy your shins. The singing at Church.
This isn't my Church. Naw, that's some few hundred miles south, probably in the middle of some potluck these days. Sister Louisa bringing out her tamale's which everyone knows doesn't fit, but they just taste too good to say no to. Old Miss Rosaria who always brings the soft bread sandwich platters and green bean casserole. Father Henry who always says he bakes the cookies, but they taste store bought. Mom probably brought something with corn again. Wonder if it was the casserole this time?
But, no. This isn't my church. But it has that same... feel. At least the singing. Past that and it falls apart.
I'm not in there, of course. Those pews hurt to sit in when you only have two legs, let alone four, with wings and a tail. It'd be a mess. That, and introducing myself. Geeze, I'd have a dozen new names to remember, and half a dozen life stories. Either that, or quiet indignation and the stiff welcome of a visitor. Course, that's what you get coming into someone's family. Either open or closed arms.
But... the songs. They tickle my memory. Times from before. Times of peace. When the world was scary and strange and unknown, but it would be alright in the end. Guess that's why I came back. I just... I want that.
Memories of gatherings, of singing and holding hands. Talking and praising and gathering together. A community made of one voice, at least for a time. Remembrances and entrustments for good times and bad. Where if your voice falters, if you don't know the notes and you don't remember the lyrics, you can rely on others to help pick it back up, carrying it on. Singing... song is community. Fellowship. Gathering and cooperation.
And now...
Sounds like they are winding down. Should head back out then, one of the younger kids will want to come to the restroom when preaching starts. Don't want to be that creep just lurking outside.
Well, still. It's... nice. Even just for a little while, feeling sorta like I'm part of that.
Granted, not the only reason to sing. Sure as hell wouldn't be singing in my tub if there were a bunch of people there. That's just concerning then! I mean, I'd be all... Well...
... Aren't I always....
Moving on from that thought. Yep. Nope. Nothing there. Nuh uh. Next thought please! What was it, singing? Yeah, solo singing. Er, singing solo. On your own. Singing. Yeah.
That's a different sort of singing.
Like, I know there are words for it, but that ain't important. The importance is the feel. Singing with a group? That's about making something from all of ya. So it all... gathers and becomes more. So that you all can make something special and unique and grand together. The harmony blending, the sound soothing, and the vocals just hammering home.
Singing on your own? That's not what it's about. If you sing a chorus on your own, you just look weird, and sound funky. Singing on your own is all about... well... you.
About what's on your mind. In your heart. In your soul, wherever the hell that is. What you feel from your toes to the tips of your wings. What you feel in your chest, in your... fingers, not w-.... uh, the throat, and then it just... bursts into the world. That's a song you sing on your own. And it's... something to see. Er, hear? Both really. Just... someone putting that all out there and just... being.
And you can here it too. Not just people, but...
I can't sleep most nights, so I've just been spending them at home. Listening to the city, watching the stars from the roof or the window. Rover said I suddenly developed insomnia, but he ain't prying. Something I'm thankful for. But... I dunno. You can sorta hear it. That quiet little whisper of a song in the streets. Not like, the mall kiosk music. That's fine, but that's not what I'm talking about.
It's something... smaller? No, bigger, but quieter. Like a background hum. An aura, or vibe, or mood or theme. That sort of... pulse. But it's not just a pulse. It rises, it swells, it crashes and quietens. Some days it's fast, some days it's slow. It's... the city singing back, affirming itself. Some days good, others bad. Some pass too fast, others drag on forever. It's a memory as much as a melody.
That heart. That's what a song you sing on your own is. It's wordless at times, but others there are a few words that couldn't fit anywhere else. It's quiet at times, and others it is overpowering and all consuming. The sound of heartache. The sound of silent prayer. The sound of a uncertain, violent, and scared people. And I want...
I want to sing it. To write it. To pluck the stars from the sky and wring them dry, to write the voice so often quieted in the heavens with the golden light of a thousand suns. To tear free the heart of man so quiet and so dark and etch its words with glowing vibrancy. To make the world look back at it's creation and be unable to turn away. To see a song made of a mockery of life. From the silent voice of the thousands that were sequestered and broken in this new world. From the millions living in a world without hope. From the hardened hearts and stoic faces of those who dare to thrive in this world.
I want them to face the music.
Daisy's Journal Ordered oldest to newest
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Medical Logs: Subject 2317
19 May 2021 07:47:43
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Inside my Cell
19 May 2021 07:48:29
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Company
19 May 2021 07:50:00
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Another Cell Wall
19 May 2021 07:57:19
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The Road Home
20 May 2021 08:14:07
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Out of Reach
02 Jun 2021 04:14:04
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Once upon a Dream
11 Jun 2021 05:59:37
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One Good Thing
11 Jun 2021 07:45:25
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Melody and Memory
18 Jun 2021 07:24:42
19 May 2021 07:47:43
19 May 2021 07:48:29
19 May 2021 07:50:00
19 May 2021 07:57:19
20 May 2021 08:14:07
02 Jun 2021 04:14:04
11 Jun 2021 05:59:37
11 Jun 2021 07:45:25
18 Jun 2021 07:24:42
The major events and journals in Daisy's history, from the beginning to today.
The Resistance - Part 3 | Prison Escape
08:41 pm - 28.11.2021The Resistance - Part 3 | Prison Escape
08:41 pm - 28.11.2021A Brave New World: The Council & The Commission
04:20 am - 18.11.2021A Brave New World: The Council & The Commission
04:20 am - 18.11.2021The Resistance - Part 2 | "Bunker"
01:43 am - 15.11.2021The Resistance - Part 2 | "Bunker"
01:43 am - 15.11.2021The Resistance - Part 1
05:02 am - 11.11.2021The Resistance - Part 1
05:01 am - 11.11.2021Trouble in Chinatown - Series Finale
01:22 am - 25.10.2021Trouble in Chinatown - Series Finale
01:22 am - 25.10.2021A Brave New World: Sector Seven
02:43 am - 21.10.2021A Brave New World: Sector Seven
02:42 am - 21.10.2021Trouble in Chinatown - Part 4 (Encounter with Ancestor)
03:49 am - 16.09.2021Trouble in Chinatown - Part 4 (Encounter with Ancestor)
03:49 am - 16.09.2021Trouble in Chinatown - Part 2 (Rescuing Jasper Liu)
05:33 pm - 05.09.2021Trouble in Chinatown - Part 2 (Rescuing Jasper Liu)
05:33 pm - 05.09.2021Trouble in Chinatown - Part 2 Spider Samurais
11:26 pm - 27.08.2021Trouble in Chinatown - Part 2 Spider Samurais
11:26 pm - 27.08.2021Euro My Lucky Star: The Feuermacher Heist: Part Zwei
12:37 am - 16.08.2021Euro My Lucky Star: The Feuermacher Heist: Part Zwei
12:37 am - 16.08.2021Trouble in Chinatown - Part 1
03:45 am - 12.08.2021Trouble in Chinatown - Part 1
03:44 am - 12.08.2021Euro My Lucky Star: The Feuermacher Heist
01:28 am - 02.08.2021Euro My Lucky Star: The Feuermacher Heist
01:25 am - 02.08.2021ROGUE SIX: This is a D.U.M.B. Encounter
11:53 pm - 19.07.2021ROGUE SIX: This is a D.U.M.B. Encounter
11:48 pm - 19.07.2021ROGUE SIX: Liberating some NAGA Tech
06:45 pm - 28.06.2021ROGUE SIX: Liberating some NAGA Tech
06:39 pm - 28.06.2021Melody and Memory
They say that the most closely related sense to memory is taste. Or was it smell? Honestly, I forget. The two are halfway built into each other, and more often than not one is preceded by the other. And let me tell you, I can tell you that's true. Brea...
07:16 am - 18.06.2021One Good Thing
My mother told me when we are in tough times, "Find one good thing each day." For her, she said sometimes it was a bad day, and the best thing she had happen was she made a cup of coffee she liked. Or that dad came home and gave her a warm hug. Or that...
07:45 am - 11.06.2021Once upon a Dream
How weak and diluted it has become. So little of the old ways in its blood and bone. Intentional, yes. Old accords still upheld even in these days. All the more pitiful so few maintained them. Accords though can be wound around. Laws found, circu...
05:59 am - 11.06.2021Out of Reach
I can't see. I don't remember closing my eyes, but I can't see. I can't quite feel it either. The rain. The sand. The wind that was howling, or even the tornado that appeared. Oh right. I was hit by a tornado. I think I'd laugh if I could mo...
04:14 am - 02.06.2021Expanding the DarkR Web: Pico de Orizaba
03:21 am - 02.06.2021Expanding the DarkR Web: Pico de Orizaba
03:21 am - 02.06.2021The Road Home
([i]Leaning and stooped over a too-small desk, a familiar drake wrapped themselves in a shell of light, hand slow and struggling as it opened up a small book there, a pencil drawn and promptly broken. A pause, then it's remains swept aside, a pen lifted i...
08:14 am - 20.05.2021Another Cell Wall
I missed the sky. You don't even really realize it most of the time. It's day or it's night, the sun is shining or the moon is out. Stars too, and sometimes it's just clouds. But there is space outside. Enough to move, to stretch and to walk and run a...
07:51 pm - 19.05.2021Company
It started with the sound of the door clanging shut. The rattle of metal on metal, tinkling steel playing against itself before clicking in place. Two, three, four, five times. The light scrape of leather against stone, footfall leading away and on down t...
07:50 pm - 19.05.2021Inside my Cell
I can't sleep right anymore. I lay down as best I can, I close my eyes and I just... it doesn't stop. The everything. That feeling when you lay down to rest but your mind is too busy, when you don't quite feel tired enough and you just lay there listl...
07:48 pm - 19.05.2021Medical Logs: Subject 2317
( [i]The sound of static echos from the device, before it crackles to life. The steady blipping beep and the whirring of some fan forms the background of the recording. The sound of something wooden shifted, a door opened, and the swift rustling of cloth,...
07:47 pm - 19.05.2021The list of amazing people following the adventures of Daisy.
Social
Birthplace
Unnammed town in the South by the coast
Current Residence
Apartment B12
Contacts & Relations
Rover the thief, her roommate
Laurence the tech wiz, her brother
Mother and Father in the south
Wealth & Financial state
Enough to get by, but not much more.
Family Ties
One brother, three years younger.
Mother and Father.
Social Aptitude
Good with close friends, likes to listen to people, bad with poshness and professionalism.
Hobbies & Pets
Baking as a habit, Previously at least. Messing around with an old HAM radio. Watching the news.