Chapter Text
Marsha had always had a sort of fondness for music.
When she was still training at the convent, they had a single radio there. It was mainly only used so they could hear the news and still learn what was happening outside. But on rare occassions, they were allowed to turn the knob to one of the music channels, and Marsha would sit as close to the radio as possible so she could hear the music amongst the clamor of convent life.
Something about the calm serenity of the music, the way the instruments sung and the notes danced, it helped eased the tension in her muscles and relax her bones after a hard day of training. Even when she left the convent, that fondness for classical music still stuck with her.
Recently though, she was introduced to a new, equally as relaxing genre of music.
"And... there!". Marsha finished bandaging up Click's waist, who was currently propped up in his bed. Marsha and Click were no strangers to eachother, in fact they could call themselves acquaintances or better yet, friends. Click's migraines and phantom pains would cause him to have to be treated often, and ever since Marsha was first brought into the Suitcase, she had helped him with all of his injuries and such, "How does it feel now, Click?".
The ghost pressed a hand to his waist lightly, his brows furrowing just slightly, but he seemed to be in a much better condition than he was when he first came in. "It's definitely better than before," he replied, voice as monotone as ever, "Thank you again, Miss Rosenhart. It's nice to have someone like you in the Suitcase".
He was about to get up from the bed, but before he could, Marsha stopped him. "Nuh uh! You have to stay in bed and rest until the pain completely goes away!" she gently scolded him, "We wouldn't want you to accidentally make the pain worse, remember?".
Click seemed to be caught by surprise, before he looked back at her, "No exceptions?".
"No exceptions," she repeated.
Click let out a sigh of defeat, sinking back into his bed as he looked outside the window. It truly was a shame he had to stay in bed, the sun was bright outside and people were more likely to be out in the Wilderness, meaning more opportunities to take photos, "It'll be boring sitting down here with nothing to do".
"Well, I could bring over Ms Radio again and play something for us! But it might be repetitive of me to request the same music from her again," Marsha chuckled to him.
Click turned back towards Marsha, gears silently turning in his head before an idea came to his mind, "Have you listened to jazz before?".
"Hmm? Jazz?" Marsha said, eyes widening slightly in surprise. She let out a small hum as she thought, "I can't say I have. I've heard of it from some people I've worked with, but I was far too busy to actually listen to it myself".
A small smile appeared on Click's face then, eyes seeming to light up, "Ask Ms. Radio if she'd like to come over. I'd love to introduce the genre to you".
Marsha nodded to him and exited his room, and it wasn't long before she returned with Ms. Radio in her hands, still sporting the same checkerboard pattern she had decided to wear in the meantime. "Ah, hello once again, Mr Click!" the radio greeted him, letting out a couple small vibrations as Marsha placed her on the bedside table, "Let me guess, the usual? I know a couple classical radio stations on right now".
Click softly shook his head, "Me and Miss Rosenhart would like a change of pace. Would you mind playing us some jazz music?".
Ms. Radio let out a soft chuckle, "Why, yes! Of course! Anything for some of my favourite people here".
There were a few seconds of static as her metal rod moved around and she switched from channel to channel, before she finally settled on one. The music playing sounded similar to what Marsha had heard before, but there were certain sounds and instruments that Marsha did not recognise.
"Hm. This sounds lovely, Click" Marsha smiled as she sat down and enjoyed the music, "I don't think I've heard anything like this before".
"I doubt you would've. Most of the good music was produced in the 30's and 40's, you wouldn't have heard any of it," Click told her. He let himself relax, his shoulders loosening as he leaned back against the headboard of his bed. His eyes closed over and his breathing slowed, he really seemed to be in a state of peace right now, "Do you like it, Miss Rosenhart?".
Marsha let herself relax against the chair she was sitting in. It reminded her of her younger days in the convent, listening to the radio after a hard day of work and letting herself relax. This music, although a bit different from the classical she was used to, had those same calming properties to her that eased the tension in her body.
Marsha let out a hum of agreement, eyes closing over as she listened. "It's very... calming," she admitted to him, a small smile on her face, "Yes, I think I quite like it".
About an hour had passed before someone had thought to check up on them. Another ghost, one clad in a bedsheet phased her head in through the wall, a nervous look on her face, "Click? Miss Marsha?".
But when she looked, the both of them were asleep, and Ms Radio was propped up on the bedside table and still playing her jazz music. Poltergeist slowly stepped into the room, steps light despite the fact she couldn't be heard, at least until the music stop and switched back to static.
Poltergeist had to stop herself from screaming before she woke the pair up, and turned towards the source of the sound. "Oh, do we have another visitor?" Ms Radio asked, her voice more hushed than usual.
"U-Umm, it's just me, Miss. I-I just wanted to check if Click was alright," Poltergeist told her, taking another step towards the bed.
"Oh, alright then," Ms Radio said, a slight static filter to her voice, "Is there a message you want me to pass on or...?".
"Umm... No, it's just...". Poltergeist thought about it for a moment, before she decided to sit down on the floor, leaning her body against the bedframe, "Can you... play the music again...?".
"Why, of course!" Ms Radio replied. She switched the channel back almost instantly, the jazz music playing once more. And Poltergeist soon joined the others in their relaxation.
==========
"Marianne, I love you, but how much longer until I can finally take my hands off of my eyes?".
It was late now, the sun having already sunk below the horizon and the moon hanging up in its place. And Marianne, or more commonly known as Sentinel by most of the Suitcase's residents, had told Marsha that she had a surprise for her. And for the past couple of minutes, she had been guiding her throughout the mansion's hallways, insistent that she stay blind until they reached their destination.
"You don't have to wait too long, mon ami. We're almost there," Sentinel told her, a small smile on her face as they turned a corner and their destination finally came into view.
She opened the door to a room and helped Marsha instead, who still had her hands over her eyes, "You may open your eyes now, Marsha".
Marsha finally took her hands off of her face, eyes taking a moment to adjust to seeing again. The room they were in was dark, lit by only some fairy lights decorating the walls and a candelabra on top of the table, where a white cloth was placed over it. There were plates and cutlery already prepared on the table, along with a couple rose petals scattered around.
"Oh, Mari!" Marsha gasped, stars alit in her eyes, "Did you prepare all of this for me?".
Sentinel smiled at her, a light blush on her pale cheeks, "You've been working so hard lately, I thought it'd be nice to treat us both to something," she told her, "Although... I could've sworn I told her to be here soon".
"Hm? What do you mean?" Marsha asked, but before Sentinel could answer, there was a knock at the door behind them.
Marsha opened the door to see Barcarola standing there, her Crackling Box already under one arm as she gave them a smile, "Oh! I see you two are already here! Mind if I come in?".
"Barcarola? What are you doing here?" Marsha asked her, stepping aside so the red-headed musician could enter the room. She looked between her and Sentinel, before a sudden realisation came to her, "Mari, did you...?".
"I thought it'd be nice to have some live music to accompany us," Sentinel replied, "I know you're fond of classical music, so I thought you would appreciate it". The candlelight seemed to accentuate her features, the curve of her cheek and the metal of her headpiece.
"Mari, you...". Marsha was absolutely lost for words, her eyes sparkling and a light blush to her own cheeks before she smiled. She took a step towards Sentinel, before pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, "Thank you so much, Mari. You have no idea how much this means to me".
Sentinel couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, "I love you too, Marsha. But there is someone in the room with us, remember?".
Barcarola looked back towards them as she was setting up her Crackling Box. "Oh, I don't mind at all, Miss Sentinel!" she grinned to them, "I've seen my fair share of PDA when I was working on the Free Breeze!! I'm perfectly fine with it!".
"Oh, well, thank you, Barcarola" Sentinel replied. She quickly cleared her throat, a light blush still on her cheeks before she looked back up at Marsha. "Well, do you want to sit down now?," she asked her, gently holding Marsha's hand in hers before pressing a kiss to her knuckles, "The food will be ready soon".
"Oh, of course, Mari!" Marsha smiled back to her, gladly letting the gargoyle guide her over to the dinner table. She sat down on the opposite side of Sentinel, she honestly used to dream of simple dates and feasts like this back when she used to be a squire.
She looked over to Barcarola, who was tuning and readjusting all of the components of her Crackling Box, "Umm, Barcarola? Do you take requests?".
"Hmm? Why, of course, Miss Rosenhart!" Barcarola nodded to her, "Do you have anything specific in mind? A certain era, composer or region?".
"Would you happen to know any Beethoven pieces, by any chance?".
Barcarola thought about it for a moment, quickly checking the pitches of her strings and how the woodwinds sounded, before she began to play out a melody.
Marsha let her eyes close over as she basked in the warmth of the moment. The notes danced like a fresh breeze, calming every muscle and bone in her body. Truly, she didn't think she'd ever get over this relaxing feeling.
"Do you like it, ma cher?" Sentinel asked her, suddenly bringing her out of her thoughts. She looked back at the soldier across from her, the candlelight framing her face and metal accessories in a warm light that seemed to accentuate her beauty.
Marsha smiled back at her, her azure eyes twinkling in the candlelight, "More than enjoy it. I absolutely adore it, Mari".