Fantome de l'opera

The calliope was a delicious little contraption . Certainly it was not the mountain of strength that he had once grown accustomed to in the cathedral, but the Old Testament God voice was no tool for the circus. No, the charm that this instrument held was in its compact nature, indeed its stingy efficiency. How many tricks he could teach himself on such an incomplete machine of music. He tried to pull two knobs at once to see if he could manage a major seventh. It was warbled, thin and with overtones, but he still managed to do it. "Freakshow...?" A voice tried behind him. There were papers shuffling. "Erik, please," he said quietly. He toyed with a few more of the settings on the calliope. "I have your cabin assignment. You'll be staying with Donnavan, the magician for this portion of the tour." A hand appeared with a hastily written note. Show times, room assignment, and a couple of names: Donnavan Piscarro and Living Corpse. Erik took it without hesitating his tampering with the keyboard. Erik heard the footsteps depart. He looked at the note and briefly pretended that it was some sort of new music notation. Could he turn the showtimes listed into a time signature and key? How would the cabin assignment be played? What of this unsuspecting roommate? And his peculiar name with the strangest spelling. What of Erik's own continued absence of a name? What of the phrase living corpse? He tried to follow the "onna" into a place of yielding mystery, but the following tone of "Isco" proved tricky. Finally, he taught the calliope to sing the letters "e-r-i-k" as he played the words "living corpse". It wasn't a perfect tune, but it would suffice as an exercise. Satisfied, the young corpse went to go find this Donnavan.