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Marinette packed up her pencils and sketchbook as the ethereal music faded away.
Crimson and gold streaked across the sky as the sun began to set, no longer offering its meager spring warmth; it was time to head home. The rich sound of the old church bells began to peal the 17th hour as she walked away from the cozy garden of the old cathedral which had quickly become her new favorite place to sketch. Marinette had discovered that she could occasionally hear inexplicable music that seemed to emanate from the bell tower, but it wasn't the bells themselves; it only seemed to happen at rare intervals sometime between the tolling hours and it wasn't predictable. She had noticed the music one brisk winter day a few months ago shortly after the noon bells and had been completely entranced with the sound.
She hadn't told anyone of her discovery, she liked that this was her ‘secret’ location and no one she knew could find her here. Sure, there was the bustle of the city around her and tourists came and went, but that was all just part of being in the city. This was her haunt and the music acted as her muse, inspiring her favorite designs and whimsical sketches. Whenever she wanted to avoid distractions, she found herself returning to the old stone structure in hopes that it would be a music day. Granted, the bustle of the city was slightly less inspiring without her favorite angelic music resounding through the stone, but the local Crêperie was happy to serve an artist in need of a seat when she found the cathedral lacking or the air too cool.
The music itself wasn't any more predictable than its presence. Sometimes it was soft and gentle, like ripples on still water, and at other times it sounded as if the angels wanted to claim rock and roll for themselves. Every visit left her wanting more, desperate to hear all that it was and could be. The music shifted like the tide and drew her like a moth to flame. She looked back at the tower just before she crossed the Seine towards home, bidding it a mental farewell.
"There are rumors of ghosts!"
Alya was gushing to her friends as she hauled them out of the metro after school and up to the bustling tourist filled district of Saint Germain.
"It's said that this old church has recently become haunted, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it," Alya declared with gusto as she waved her phone around emphatically.
"H-haunted?" Nino asked nervously. It wasn’t as if he believed in ghosts of course, but there wasn’t any proof that they didn’t exist, so it only made sense to be respectful. Just in case.
"Well, of course it isn't really haunted, that's crazy! But there must be something causing the stories."
"Where Alya? I walk around here a lot and haven't heard anything creepy," Marinette insisted, baffled by her friend's claims, but growing a little nervous as they continued. She couldn’t possibly think that the music was ghostly? Right?
They were nearing her church and she kind of wanted to keep her secret sketching spot to herself.
“Ta-da!” Marinette's heart sank as Alya gestured to the Church of Saint Germain. She didn’t want her friend crawling all over her current favorite place trying to find answers to some ridiculous mystery.
“You have got to help me investigate!”
“I dunno Alya, this is a busy arrondissement, there are a lot of sounds here, whatever people think they’re hearing could be coming from anywhere,” Marinette hedged.
Alya looked down the busy road. Bistros, cafe’s, shops and tourists with their cameras and guide books were everywhere, sound bouncing off all the old walls and worn stone streets as it mixed together, making it hard to pinpoint anything in the bustling cacophony. She shrugged and shook her head decisively.
“It doesn’t matter, I won't rest until we know why there are rumors of phantasmic forces and what is causing them.”
Marinette sighed, sometimes there was no stopping the force that was Alya Cesaire’.
Alya dragged them back twice more before they heard the faint sound of music ricocheting off of the old stone around them on a sunny spring day. The days had been getting warmer and Marinette’s fingers itched for her sketchbook, but she knew her friend would never let her sit and enjoy it when there was a mystery to solve. It was good music too, there was something in it that almost reminded her of Jagged Stone’s newest release, but the echoes were too convoluted to be sure.
Nino shivered, “Whoah, that is creepy.” He really had been hoping there wasn’t anything to Alya’s claims. Now he was in for it.
“What?!” Marinette sputtered, “It isn’t creepy at all, it's ethereal, angelic even.” She resented the idea that her lovely muse could be menacing in any way. How dare anyone spread ghost stories about something so wonderful?
"Dudette, it's totally creepy, but the sound is actually kind of cool, it's almost rock n’ roll- if rock music was creepy, you know?" He was more than a little weirded out, but at the same time, he wanted to play with that sound, mix it up a little. It was sorta awesome, in a freaky ‘my girlfriend is going to get us killed by ghosts’ kinda way.
Alya rolled her eyes. "How can it be 'angelic' and 'rock' at the same time?"
"Why wouldn't angels want a little rock on occasion?" Marinette countered, trying to suppress a giggle at the looks on her friend's faces.
"Wait, are we dealing with ghosts or angels here?"
"Oh. My. Gosh." Alya facepalmed, "Neither! It's a prank or a trick of the wind or wonky acoustics coming from some bistro. The point is, we are gonna Scooby-Doo the hell out of it and find the answer!"
"Why not just enjoy it?" Marinette implored, "I think it sounds magical."
Curiosity aside, she kinda hated the idea of finding an explanation for the music. She liked that her inspiration was whimsical and was more than a little put out that anyone would want to mess with it. What if it went away? She really didn’t want the music to stop.
"Magic?! Are we talking witches now?! Mari's right, we should leave it alone," Nino begged.
"Oh come on!" Alya grabbed them both by a hand and marched them up to the large cathedral doors to begin her investigation. Marinette gave Nino a sympathetic glance and whispered that the church would keep them safe for sure. While she didn’t think he really believed her, he did seem to appreciate the effort. He smiled at his sweet dark haired friend before scowling at the back of his girlfriend's head.
Entering the church was easy, even on weekdays it was open for public viewing; the bell tower however was another story entirely. It was behind a locked door and when they asked about tours, they discovered that because the tower was so old-over a thousand years!-- only the custodian and the bell ringer were allowed up. They did learn some interesting facts about the old building though. There used to be an entire Abbey complex and three separate towers. The old abbey had once had its own prison and it had seen more than its fair share of death. The Revolution had scarred the old building in many ways. Nino looked wary at the news, tugging at his cap nervously. If there was a place in Paris ripe for a good haunting, this was it. They looked around the nave a little to get a feel for the space before going back out to the grounds.
After a while the music came to an end and they left without answers to its origin. Alya vowed they would keep coming back until they found the story behind the music that had started the rumors. Marinette managed to point out that they hadn't been able to hear it from inside the church building itself, maybe they should look elsewhere in the arrondissement?
Luka was working on the pickups of his electric guitar in the galley of their houseboat, the sound kept cutting out and he wanted to get it sorted before the band's next rehearsal.
“It's you isn't it?”
Juleka's demand came out of nowhere and left him perplexed. He shoved his blue tipped hair back as he looked at his sister in confusion as he tried to shift gears.
“What is?”
"You've been taking your violin to work right?"
"Yeah, don’t worry - I have permission as long as I don't play during mass, just in case the sound carries." He shrugged at her unexpected line of questioning.
“In case the sound...Luka! You're the ghost of Saint-Germain!”
“Jules, that's ridiculous. There isn't a ghost. It's just some crazy urban legend,” Luka rolled his eyes. He was used to tourists looking for nonsense in historic buildings (often older than their respective countries), but his sister was usually smarter than that.
“Well, there is now, it showed up around the time you started your new job. Reports of eerie music coming from the city's oldest bell tower at random times of the day. Any idea what might cause that?”
“Eerie?! My music isn’t eerie,” Luka gaped at her for a moment before he realized something. "Wait, that's why you're mad at me?” Jules had been a little grumpy lately and he hadn’t been able to pinpoint the cause of her ire. “My goth-girl sister is just a wannabe, but your dorky punk brother is a legit ghost of urban legend!” He started chuckling.
Juleka scowled at him, arms crossed. She was trying desperately not to pout, because she hated that he was right. She really shouldn't let it bother her, but it did.
“I out-gothed the ‘Queen of Darkness’!” he laughed.
He took in her stance and realized that it bothered her more than she was letting on. He relented quickly; “Why not come up with me sometime?”
“I don’t want to be a tagalong, Luka!” She wanted to be a ghost too, in her own right.
“Hmmm, guess we couldn’t drag a bass all the way up there anymore than I could bring my guitar,” he pondered the conundrum for a minute before stating, “Don’t worry Jules, we’ll find a way to make a ghost out of you yet.” He leaned back over his guitar to finish his tinkering, but his mind was racing to help out his little sister.
“Whatever.” Juleka huffed as she turned and left the galley and Luka was left to his own devices.
As the final gong of the noon bells sounded the trio stood with baited breath, listening for something out of the ordinary. A moment passed. Then- there. It started with a single note that had just begun to fade before it was joined by more strains of sound as it started to tumble and weave in and out of itself with the aid of the architecture all around them.
Nino had been willing to return with a good microphone and some decent portable recording equipment he used for some of his gigs. He might be a little concerned about disturbing ghosts, but seeing as Alaya (whose corporeal form was nearly as terrifying when angry) was going to make him come along anyway, at least this way he could get some good sounds to use. They planned to record the mysterious music of Saint Germain from different points around the building to see if they could catch any differences in how it echoed based on their various locations.
Alya wanted to use science to find answers and dispel the ghost stories, Nino wanted the gray day to stay dry to protect his hard-earned equipment and Marinette wanted her peaceful sketching spot back; ideally, sans ghost hunters.
They used a printed map of the area to mark where each sound byte was to be made and got to work. Marinette started them on one side of the church and arranged it so that the garden at Square Laurent Prache was the last stop. While Alya and Nino recorded the music there, she pulled out her sketchbook so she could capture some of its essence in her current design. The music was really pretty today, less rock and more dramatic, but lilting- much closer to Alya’s supposed ghost sounds, but still too pretty to be considered malevolent.
“What is that?” Juleka stopped short on the deck of the Liberty when she spotted her brother with an odd instrument.
"It's a U-Bass," he said with a grin.
“A what now?”
“A Bass Ukulele, check it out!”
“No way, that can’t be a real thing.”
“It's right here Juleka,” he held the oddly small bass instrument out to her. “It's real and totally corporeal, it won't be ghostly until you play it under the biggest bell that Saint-Germain has to offer.”
She looked at it askance. It looked like he had strung some sort of medical tubing onto a ukulele, but a nice ukulele. She took it from him tentatively and plucked a string.
Bruuumm
It felt … good. Biting back a smile Juleka played a quick walk up and down the thick strings and finally admitted that it sounded kinda cool, a lot like an upright. Ugh! She loved it, but she kinda hated that she loved it. Even the aesthetic was growing on her the longer she looked at it. It was glossy black all over, and had f-shaped sound holes instead of a circle at its center, so it really looked like a double bass in miniature. And other than the comically thick strings, it was dark and elegant.
“Where did you get this?”
"Found it at Paul’s, I convinced him to trade me for it."
"What did you trade?" Juleka was worried now, she didn't want her brother to go overboard because of one of her whims.
“Just time Jules, I'll do a little repair work on some of his second hand pieces and it’ll all be good. It's nearly half paid for already, a couple more Saturday’s and I’ll be off the hook. So, I asked the Monseigneur and he said it would be fine for you to join me if you wished. Wanna get your ghost on with me this week?” his eyes danced at her with his invitation.
She couldn’t help it, Juleka squealed at the chance and ran off with her new little bass to familiarize herself with it.
Luka chuckled at her obvious enthusiasm; teasing his sister was all kinds of fun, but making her happy- that was his favorite. So long as she never found out of course.
Marinette took a deep breath as she shaded and colored one of her favorite music inspired designs. Alya was stuck babysitting a lot this week and was focusing on analyzing the recordings so Marinette finally had some time to herself again.
“Wow, that's really cool,” remarked a gentle, but unexpected voice over her shoulder.
“Gah!!” Marinette squealed as she jumped and turned towards the voice.
A handsome dark-haired boy in a hoodie raised his hands as he stepped back slightly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he offered a contrite smile that put her at ease.
With her sketchbook clutched to her chest she managed to speak again, but still felt a little breathless, “It’s okay- I get kinda intense when I am working, not your fault. Thanks though. For the compliment I mean.”
" Your art is really good- you should be complimented often, what's your name?"
"Umm, I'm Ma-ma-Marinette."
"It's nice to meet you, I'm Luka."
She smiled brilliantly at him and let him look at her sketches. He was impressed by her skill and slightly enamored by her vivacious personality. It was hard to leave her not knowing if he'd see her again.
Marinette watched the boy as he walked away. Had he been flirting with her? She kinda hoped so.
"I can't believe you climb these stairs twice a day," Jules growled at him as they finally reached the top of the tower. He grinned at her discomfort while he caught his own breath.
Looking around he had her try a few notes in different places until he thought the u-bass seemed to reverberate the best, then set himself up in his favorite spot.
"Ready?"
Juleka grinned and picked out a line to get them started.
Dwummmm
Broom
Brohm
Luka smiled as he raised the violin into place and they played. It was always fun to jam with his sister, but this was an experience in itself. He watched her eyes dance in amazement at the sound. Whatever it sounded like down there, it couldn't be anything like it was up here.
She was back, he noted with surprise - it wasn't all that common to see locals hang out in such a busy area so frequently.
"This seems like a busy place to sketch."
She glanced up- only a little startled this time, but quickly smiled as recognition set in.
"Oh, well I'm used to the city and I come for the music," she tipped her head, "it's stopped now though."
"Music?"
"Yeah, sometimes there's really beautiful music that kind of resonates around here. Some people think it's haunted."
Juleka was right. Huh. It's a good thing he'd already heard it from her.
“Haunted, huh? Do you believe that?” he asked with a grin.
“No idea, but if it is, it's being haunted by the most beautiful soul,” she replied rapturously.
“Why do you think that?” he raised an eyebrow in question.
“Anyone that can make music that sounds so alive and so full of feeling must be beautiful at their core, whether or not they themselves are alive.”
“Maybe it's like a siren call. Or the pied piper, luring you to your doom,” he teased gently.
“Nope, it can’t be.” She shook her head vigorously.
“Why not?”
“Cause I’ve been coming here to listen and sketch for months and nothing bad has happened. Besides, I just know the creator of that music has to be good, I can feel it.”
“I guess I can’t argue with your feelings.”
"If it isn't human, then my best guess is that it's an angel."
He nearly choked at the idea of anyone calling one of the Couffaines angelic. The very notion might just kill his Ma.
"Is it always the same?" he wondered if Juleka's bass had enough volume to carry the way his violin apparently did.
"Yes and no, I get the feeling that it's created by the same musician, but the style changes a lot… and a few days ago it almost sounded deeper or richer somehow. Like there was something more but I don't know what the difference was, but it was glorious."
He glanced away, trying to subdue his sudden blush, "What do you do when there's no music?"
"It depends on my mood; sometimes I stay anyway, or stop by the Crêperie for a snack while I work. Sometimes I just go back home, or sit by the Seine. There's inspiration everywhere."
She was right on that account, he had found new inspiration himself. He wondered if she would be open to him asking her out. He found that he loved being around her gentle sweetness, and hoped that her positive feeling about his music would extend to him.
"Bad news Jules," he greeted her as soon as he got home; he couldn't wait to drop the bomb on her.
"What is it now?" she looked up from her u-bass, plugged into the amp this time. He smiled at how much she seemed to like it.
"I heard a new theory today. Apparently we aren’t ghosts so much as angels."
"What?" Juleka Couffaine was not an angel.
"At least that's what I heard today."
"But someone still thinks we’re ghosts right?"
"Sure, probably. I'm sure you can still be a ghost if you want to be."
"You're okay with being an angel?" she scoffed incredulously.
"If Rose called you an angel, you'd like it well enough," he retorted.
She didn't argue that point, but focused on its meaning, "A girl called you an angel? Was she cute?"
"The cutest." He flopped onto the sofa with a sigh, grabbing his guitar to fill in the spaces left by Jules’ bass.
It was a perfect day for it. The summer sun was still a little high, but on its way down and toying with some clouds. That and Marinette was back. It was almost time for the 5 pm bells and he didn’t want to waste an opportunity to spend time with her.
"Did you know that you can see the Louvre sparkling like a diamond from the top of the tower? Well, at least if the sun is right."
"Really? How do you know?"
"I have a key." Her eyes grew wide as he held up the old skeleton key that definitely looked like it belonged to the gothic building, "So do you wanna see if the light is just right?"
Marinette hesitated, she didn’t really know this guy, but she wanted to. Should she just follow him past locked doors and up an old tower?
“You can bring your sketchbook, and I’ll play for you,” he offered, hoisting up his violin case with a wink.
Flabbergasted into speechlessness, Marinette rose and followed him even as her brain shorted out with the realization that Luka was her ‘angel’. She barely noticed her surroundings as he led her into the church and past the old door to the tower staircase, it wasn't until she was taking her first steps up the ancient stones that she finally regained her power of speech.
“You’re my angel? You're better looking than most angels.” She blurted before she got a proper hold of herself.
He smiled back at her, “you know many angels?”
“Well, no- you’d be the first.”
“Maybe I’m a pied piper after all then.”
Marinette studied him as carefully as she could while also trying not to trip on the winding staircase. “No, I don’t think you would intentionally hurt anyone.”
“I’m glad you feel that way, and you’re right. I’d like to think that I would choose to protect rather than hurt in most situations.”
They didn’t talk much as they huffed their way up the seemingly never-ending staircase 'till they finally reached the top. Luka glanced at his phone. “It’ll be loud for a minute, I have to ring the bells first, okay?”
She nodded and covered her ears. Luka stepped over the threshold to the bells and glanced at his phone once again before doing a quick countdown. Then he began pulling on the thick ropes in an indiscernible pattern that set off a ringing melody around them. Her very being seemed to thrum with the vibrations of the massive bells, and she pulled her hands away from her ears to fully experience it. It wasn’t quite as loud as she expected, yet the sound was nearly tangible in a way she had never before experienced. It filled the air with melodious chimes and rolled its way across the city. She could almost picture the way the sound would ripple out until it met with the echoes of peals and clangs from the other bells throughout the city as the bell towers of Paris announced the evening hour.
He turned back to Marinette and smiled at her awed expression as the final echoes died down before motioning her over to one of the wall slits. He pointed out down Rue Bonaparte and across the sparkling river to the glittering spectacle that was the Louvre pyramid in the slowly waning sunlight. Her breath caught at the sight, “It’s amazing.” They studied the scene together for a while, before he pulled away from the view.
“Ready for the real magic?” he asked as he opened his violin case and pulled out his instrument, tuning it quickly and settling himself near his favorite bell; it wasn’t the largest, but from up here at least, it captured the strains of his violin in the best way. “Do you have a request?”
“Oh-uh, I don’t know, I’ve never heard you play anything that I didn’t love. Play whatever you feel like.”
Luka studied Marinette as she sat- she was really pretty- settling her sketchbook in her lap. She looked up expectantly, watching him with eyes bluer than the sky and he knew the perfect song, well he had an idea for one anyway. He settled the violin under his chin and raised his bow, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t stumble over hers, then he began to play.
Marinette watched- utterly enraptured with the musician in front of her. He was as beautiful as his music, though maybe not as angelic looking as she had originally imagined. The light of the sun bounced off the dull shine of the old bells creating odd light patterns that illuminated him and his instrument in unexpected ways. And the music. It was different up here than it sounded on the ground, otherworldly in a whole new way. She was caught in its strands and if he had been a siren intent on her demise she would have gone willingly and lovingly to her death in that moment. Once she had managed to return to herself she let the cadence of the music direct her eyes as her gaze drifted over the stone and the play of the light and the small smile on Luka’s face before she let her hands begin their work in the waiting sketchbook and let creativity take her over.
"Luka…" she breathed softly when he had finished and set his violin in its case, "that was the most beautiful…" she took another breath and he smiled at her wonder, "I don't have the words, but that was incredible."
He reached down to help her up from her spot on the ground. "I'm really glad you liked it. After all, you were my inspiration." She smiled, blushing as he held on to her hand for a moment, “Will I ruin everything if I ask you out?”
Her blush deepened, but she still managed to answer him, “Not at all, in fact- I think that would make today a perfect day.”
His smile stretched as he leaned a little closer and gently twined his fingers with hers, “Ma-ma-Marinette, will you go out with me?”
“Mmmhmm. I’d love you.. To! I’d love to go out with you.”
Now he was never letting go of her.