milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Rachel was in a mood it seemed. Not quite angry or upset, but not quite happy...just kind of there. She hadn't slept, and it showed, as she was still wearing the faded wife beater and more-hole-than-jeans that was her pj's. Luckily, her shift didn't start until late, which would give her time to battle through the careless feeling.

So, she sat upside down on a rafter. It put her on reverse eye level with just about any decently tall person walking by in case they had a reason to talk. Otherwise, she was slowly building a tower of straws, sugar packets, and pepper shakers down to the table below.

[Open to all, slow eventually!]

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Yrael has brought his guitar down from the guest room he uses for storage. He hasn't played it in a while, so he thought he might.

He settles nearby to tune and watch the tower's progress.

Rachel looked up (down) at him and grinned, tossing a straw his way. In the manner of all things straw though, it didn't make it nearly as far as one could hope.

A sugar packet made a much better missile, plunking neatly against his arm before sliding down the strings. "Yrael..." Rachel mused, eyes glued on the instrument "...you do play guitar."

The strings vibrated faintly from the sugar packet; Yrael grins.

"I do, indeed. You sound surprised."

"Nope, you just answered a question I was meaning to ask" she admitted simply.

Another straw made it into her fingers a she spun her tower somewhat to search for an anchor "Would you write something for me?"

"Something of music? Certainly," he says, smiling.

"What sort of thing would you like?"

Considering Rachel couldn't read music it was an odd request but! "A guitar song, a fast one" because she had the feeling Skwisgaar didn't play slow "That requires changing hands and grips at least once?"

Yrael blinks, looking amused.

"All right." He continues tuning. "Will this be written for you, or written for you?"

"I'll play it once I see it played?" she offered "I have a guitar teacher now, and his friend doesn't read music either, but we both can switch hands when we play..." and it was complicated?

He nods. Complicated. "I'll think of something. My music-writing quill is... somewhere in my room upstairs. Probably hidden in a book somewhere."

"Once you do...can you play it for us?" because Rachel really didn't have a problem admitting her failings.

She wasn't exactly at the point of "Kid on Christmas" excitement. In fact, she seemed almost a little shy considering she'd only played for one person so far.

"Certainly," he smiles. "Something fast, with hand and grip changes in it, then."

"Tall order I know" she chuckled softly. "Sorry..." she offered him another sugar packet though!

"Not so."

Yrael catches the sugar packet and flicks it towards her, grinning. "People have asked for me to write them something for piano and violin before, but this is the first I get to write something for others on the guitar."

"Maybe...maybe sometime on the lake we could play together..." she offered, catching the packet and slotting it in it's proper place.

"You can hear what I play..."

"I would like that."

"Bernard has given me permission to hold a concert, here."

And practically dared him to see if he can turn the patrons into a crowd of rabid fans.

"Hmmm, a concert" she grinned, an action felt as much as seen. It tugged at the corners of the mouth, twisted nearby lips wryly...

"Would you like accompaniment?"

"I would greatly love accompaniment. Would you accompany me in my concert, dear sister?" He grins back.

"We'll see how I do in our private performances" she pointed out. She was pretty sure she could manage...after all, she played around other people rather than playing notes on a page...

But, it was still a good idea.

"I think you will do fine," he says, sure.

"I do not know when the concert shall be, yet."

"I've played one song, Yrael. For one person." she countered. She'd kept her playing...very private. It was something selfish to cherish.

"But if you want, I'll play. You know that" because he was family.

Yrael is all for Rachel being selfish. It would do her good, he thinks.

He blinks, looking bemused. "I would not ask you to accompany me, if you did not want to."

He had interpreted her grin to mean that she did want to.

She did...she just was hesitant all told. "I'd love to Yrael...just let me play with you a bit first though. I...practice. I should practice."

"That will be fine," he smiles. "As long as you are comfortable with it, Rachel."

She didn't shift from her spot on the rafter, but there was the feeling of a gentle kiss pressed to his cheek in answer.

The man in the gray suit is decently tall, I'd say. He's not too rattled by talking to people who are invertically inclined relative to him, though the upside-down tower she's building does get his attention. "Is it hard work, miss?" he asks her. "Holding the bottom end up?"

"Not really" she admitted "Maybe if it were heavier, or if complex." she mused, turning the tower slightly to tuck another straw into it.

"Power and skill both, then. Congratulations." He strikes his face in keen astonishment. "But where are my manners?" He holds out the hand for shaking. "Michael Donighal, at your service."

"Experience" she corrected a little wryly, and even upside down her smile was warm and small. "Rachel Grey, and I don't really need anyone, but if you want to help I won't say no..."

[Annnnd...off to work. Sorry for slow!]

[No prob. If it weren't for slowtimes, I'd have no time at all sometimes.]

"Glad to hear it. And I think you're going to need some help eventually. Past a certain point, you'll need to either stand 'up' or get off that rafter, and it looks to me like either way will put you directly into the traffic pattern."

He considers. "Experience is how you develop skill. Genetics is how you develop power. And if you're the Rachel Grey of whom I've heard tales, you come by both honestly."

She eyed her spindly tower and the table above (below) a moment, contemplating his statement. Then? She simply grinned and slid the tower past her knees. That way she could reach the top just as easily and not interrupt traffic! She'd put it down when she was done. Or done-ish.

"I've tried" she admitted simply. She wasn't shaken by the idea of tales. Not in the least, though the man did earn a curious eyebrow arch as she offered him a straw. "Genetics and random twists of fate and such. Outside forces account for a great deal of power in most cases."

"Outside forces certainly awakened the majority of my potential. I suspect I'd still have been pretty remarkable without that one incident, but as a result of it, I'm downright unearthly." He takes the straw and turns it over in his fingers. "Could you fetch me a few more of these, by any chance? Perhaps we can start building toward each other."

"See?" she chuckled. "Genetics isn't the only road, or even the most used road to power."

She obligingly passed a container of straws, hoping it wouldn't be missed from the next table over.

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