tchaikovsky

Name

Пётр Ильи́ч Чайко́вский

Affiliation

Foundation, Researcher/Counsellor

Height

74in.

Medium

Gunfire

pyotr ilyich tchaikovsky

a composer from Russia. a kind and quiet man, keeping to himself— though he makes frequent exceptions to help others. he is also one of the only beings capable enough of deterring Mozart’s common pranks through thought alone.

ever since his transformation, he almost always opts for the fancier version of the Foundation uniform. two pairs of wings can be seen trailing out from underneath his cape: one white and one black. his pins are always in the exact same spot, neat and consistent.

the way he wields his pen is more akin to wielding a firearm. ink "bullets" shoot out with violent accented noise.

his high status in the Foundation’s ranks is quite remarkable. he has been around for longer than Mitya has been alive, and has been assisting students at the Academy for most of it. indeed, this high status makes him someone worthy of respect. but as always with the Foundation, nothing is ever exactly as it seems.

feather

a white feather. the result of his “experiment”. at first, it seemed a success. he recorded side effects: a more intense hunger, an fierce urge to not let anyone into his room, severe aches and pains throughout his entire body seizing him. but it had worked. a large pairs of white wings from his back, even allowing for occasional flight, along with a smaller set of black ones underneath and feathery wings replacing what once were his ears. that was, until months later, he took off his uniform and saw that feathers had been crawling on his arms, growing where they should not have, where they did not belong. he seldom wore anything with short sleeves afterwards. but what more could he do?

swan

a small emblem enclosed in a letter of congratulations from Shostakovich after the premiere of Swan Lake, created just for Tchaikovsky. Shostakovich was merely writing the letter after being instructed to do so from the Foundation, the pin was no different. but Tchaikovsky didn’t mind.

story

grave, common time

ghost note, fermata, cadenza, ghost note, fermata, repeat sign marked 1893, dc al fine

forever delaying double bar line

story

he didn’t expect the experiment to succeed. he didn’t even expect the experiment to be survivable.

he surrounded himself with pages of sheet music, feathers, and the bodies of several swans, both black and white, enclosed in a large circle written in thick red ink, of course sourced from the swans. and he held his pen up to his temple, dipped in the same ink. and he closed his eyes, relaxing his body, humming a familiar melody: F sharp, B to C sharp to D to E, F to D, F to D, F to B, D to B to G to D. and that was the trigger.

time stood still for a moment before racing forward. a light rushed through the entire room, so bright that it was as if he had never shut his eyes at all. the feeling that surged through him— well, it was certainly a feeling. it felt as if the pen had shot him with a bullet, and maybe it had, traveling through his head, shattering body and mind. “ink” splattered through to the opposite side of him, only to solidify into feathers, no longer liquid, gently fluttering down. it felt as if the body he possessed could no longer contain its soul, souls, once empty and now overcrowded. not muscle and bone being ripped apart, but growing. requiring more space to compensate, and creating it. the term “growing pains” was too much of an understatement for what he experienced. an experience of being stretched, this way and that way, body becoming more than it was ever meant to be. it felt as if something was alive in him.

he opened his eyes as the light faded and all the feathers had fallen to the ground and he could feel wings, wings that were now his and maybe he always had them, had been meant to have them.

it felt as if he was alive. he was alive.

story

Mr. Tchaikovsky, about the recent success of your experiment with your wings…
Just Tchaikovsky is fine.
Ah, alright. How did you come up with such an idea, and furthermore, how did you execute it?
An interesting story, indeed. I do regret to inform you that many details are not suitable for the public as of now, but a study will be published as soon as the Foundation gives its approval. Those with proper clearance will be free to read about it there.
I see…
Tchaikovsky, you’ve been at the Foundation for such a long time now. Everyone looks up to you as their senior. So, was there someone you looked up to when you were new? Who was around when you joined?
Again, I regret to inform you that is classified.
Ah…
…
Mr. Tchaikovsky… How... old are you…?