milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

( last night: poetry in motion )

The songs he likes most have no lyrics. Only melodies that tell stories of their own. It's his considered opinion that his life has enough stories to tell, but he doesn't necessarily want to commit them to words. Instead, he commits them to song and as long as he knows what tales they contain, he's perfectly happy.

The song he's playing now, for instance, is called Goodnight Julia. It tells a story of war and innocence and intrigue, of manipulation and spying and betrayal, of confidences won and confidences destroyed. Of chance meetings and unexpected friendships and unexpected loss. It's so rich with content, in fact, that his eyes are closed; the notes drift out over the water of the lake and while the night's a little chilly, he's not. He hasn't been cold since he landed here for good. So far that's served him well, but he wonders how long it will last. He remembers how cold Julia was all the time: was it just the difference in the circumstances of their death, or was it something else? What made death so sad and painful for her, but so enlightening and beautiful for him?

He doesn't know. What he does know is that all journeys are individual ones, regardless of who's along for the ride. People, he thinks, are like satellites. They revolve around each other, attracted to one another like the most powerful magnets imaginable. Irresistable in some cases -- he's thinking about Faye right now, with her legs that go on forever and the brilliant green of her eyes and the swanlike curve of her neck, the way she smells like honey and bergamot -- and if a person is lucky, he gets his own personal orbit with the object of his affection for however long the mutual attraction lasts. Ultimately, though, human beings really are alone.

He was on his way to Titan one last time when the universe hijacked him and let him land here. While he's never claimed to be the smartest person he knows, he's not the least intelligent either and because of that, he shakes off any melancholy and lets the song change, lets it start to tell a different story. This one is all about I think you should stay and ruby necklaces and impromptu seductions and letting go of stereotypes.

That's much better. It's hard to smile and play saxophone at the same time, but he's managing to do just that.

[tag: Wanijima Akito]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

(deleted comment)

"Since I was big enough for my fingers to fit on the keys." Again, he laughs: people don't usually ask him that particular question, although it's a perfectly valid one. "I started playing piano when I was four, but my love affair with the saxophone started when I was about eight."

Extending his hand, he nods once. "I'm Gren." He could add a disclaimer about how he doesn't bite, but he's not on the prowl. He's just playing music by the water's edge at night because it's a beautiful and fun thing to do.

"Are you a jazz fan?" He used to say it's what he lives and breathes and he could still say it, he supposes, but it would be a little bit of a lie.

(deleted comment)

Jazz and piano are a great combination. From Mose Allison to Rachel Z and every letter in between, there are fantastic jazz pianists. But...

"For me, it happened when my mother took me to a jazz concert. I just... fell in love with it and bugged her and bugged her until she finally let me start studying saxophone. I just thought the sound of the tenor sax was so rich, and it wouldn't leave me alone. Since she had a lot of friends who were musicians, that made it easy."

It's easy to talk about music. It's as integral a part of his life as anything, and more important than most things. "Plus, I'm not much of a singer and playing sax keeps me from doing that. How about you? Are you a musician?"

Akito looks to be about... oh, thirteen or fourteen, he guesses, but he's not that great at guessing ages. Young, though. Definitely a young teen, and he wonders what he's doing here... besides reading, that is.

(deleted comment)

When Akito tells him he sounds like he'd be great at singing, all he can do is stifle a laugh: he's actually shy about that. He wasn't kidding when he said playing sax keeps him otherwise occupied.

"A friend of mine... gave me his guitar. When I'm playing it, that's the only time I get tempted to sing. But he was so much better at it than I am: it'd be a disservice to his memory."

Charlie. He misses him.

Really, he's not sure whether or not he wants to go down the path of asking Akito what he means about how he used to be a musician. On the one hand, it seems like it's fraught with peril. But then again... well, he's usually pretty good at making valid assessments about people he barely knows. It's only with himself that he has problems reading things.

"I think... once you're a musician, you're always a musician. At least at heart."

(deleted comment)

"You mean aside from the one in the middle of the bar?" Laughing, he nods toward the door leading inside. "I haven't played it for a while, but it was there last time I looked. I use it when I transcribe scores."

He learned to read music at the same time he learned to read letters; he's fluent in both languages. With a practiced hand he unscrews the reed from the sax's mouthpiece and sets it into the small case he always keeps hidden away in his shirt pocket; it keeps the reed from cracking.

"Do you want me to show you where it is?"

(deleted comment)

"Sometimes the most obvious things are the hardest ones to see." He's thinking of a few things when he says that: Faye, first and foremost, but he's also thinking of Vicious and Titan and the music box and the seamless way he was set up with it. "And sometimes the things we want the most are the things we ought to be most careful of."

The way that music box glittered in the gritty Titan sand was like a fountain of hope for him. He never even stopped to wonder why someone like Vicious would be carrying a beautiful thing like that around with him. Even so many years later -- well after he'd already been sent to and escaped from the prison on Pluto -- he didn't stop to consider that piece of the story.

But they say live and learn, and he did, even though it took Julia pointing out the obvious to him.

He shakes his head. "Don't mind me. Come on, I'll show you where it is. Maybe it's like the front door: it shows up for some people but not others." He's never heard that applied to the piano, but why not? That could be just as important to one person as the front door is to someone else... and right now he's got such mixed feelings about that elusive front door. But he starts off in the direction of the bar itself.

"So, Akito. How long have you been at Milliways, or are you one of the lucky ones who can come and go whenever he wants?"

(deleted comment)

"Be careful what you ask for. You might get it." He laughs again, though, with genuine cheerfulness and a shrug, his fingers still playing silent melodies on the saxophone. "It's probably been... oh, two and a half years since I was last away from this place."

But that's neither here nor there, and it's really not Akito's business. The boy's hands are trying to stay occupied; he recognizes nervous habits for what they are but makes no judgment on it. Instead, he does something he's very good at: redirects the conversation.

"You really didn't see the piano?" As he opens the door to the bar, he nods to it. It really is right there, just like it's always been. Not quite in the middle of the bar -- a little to one side -- but still pretty evident. Maybe he's just more keyed in to music and musical possibilities than most people, but he thinks it's probably pretty hard to miss.

(deleted comment)

This isn't the first time in the short time since they met that Akito's alluded to something... unsavory lurking in his past. It's certainly not a stranger's business and he used to be a teenage boy himself and he knows how high the general level of sturm und drang can be at that age. Still, when someone continually alludes to a thing, it's so often an invitation to ask about it.

He's not so sure he wants to get involved in someone else's pain. Having done it before on far too many occasions -- never mind the fact that he's had enough of his own, for some very good reasons -- the concept of playing preacher in a confessional isn't very appealing.

But he likes people, and he likes being able to find right words to say. He's very good at it with Faye and always has been, but that's a different situation entirely, and it was the first time they met, too. Still...

"You... want to talk about it?"

If the tables were turned, he'd say no without hesitation... but the tables aren't turned and the door is open... for whatever it's worth. "Or would you rather just play the piano?"

Either way, he won't be the least bit insulted.

(deleted comment)

Well.

He knows what that's like: he remembers the disbelief on Julia's face when she was on the receiving end of his story: that was the first time he'd ever told it to a soul. He knows the mix of disbelief and pity, of sorrow and anger, and even if he doesn't know a single detail of Akito's story it doesn't matter: privacy is still privacy, even when it's masked by cautious disregard.

"Fair enough." His job here is done, he thinks: he's gotten Akito to the piano safely and without anyone having to divulge any secrets. Empathetic though he feels he often is, he's certainly not one to pry. Instead, he backs off: he'll listen to Akito play, one musician to another, without judgment and without expectation.

(deleted comment)

There are a number of ways for a person to appreciate music. First, there's technical expertise: how well does the musician play his instrument? Are there flaws? Is he confident? A second way is a little more emotional: how well does the musician understand and convey his music? Do strong feelings come across? And there's a third way: how much of an entertainer is the musician? Does he captivate the audience, sell them a story, get them invested in his performance?

Gren knows he's been judged in all these ways countless times by an unending parade of patrons over the course of his career. It's something he expects, seeing as how he's a professional musician. Akito, on the other hand, is just a kid and his music... well, it definitely comes from the heart.

When the song starts he busies himself: turns to the bar, orders a cup of Callisto blue tea, listens with his ears instead of his eyes: when he's keyed in to music the sound is hard to lose, even in a crowded room. By the time Akito's done, though, he's watching again. It's kind of an amazing song and when it's over he gives Akito a small nod of solidarity before toasting him with his teacup.

Nothing needs to be said: mission accomplished.

(deleted comment)

"My pleasure."

He means it, too: whatever playing that song means to Akito, that's great. Music is a strong equalizer, a valuable tool, an even more priceless gift. All he did was point out a piano.

"You... want a cup of tea or anything? I wasn't sure."

(deleted comment)

It's good: his job here is done. And it wasn't much of a task, really.

"That piano's pretty much yours for the taking. Open to whoever wants to play it any time it's free, so remember that. And... you play well."

That's what he has to say to Akito: whatever else the kid wants to do, that's his own business. As far as he's concerned, he'll just fade off into the crowd, finish his tea, and head back upstairs. He's got a very beautiful lady to see, after all, and she might appreciate a private serenade.

"Take care, Akito." It's old habit, his standard farewell from Blue Crow, and he's comfortable with it. "I'll see you around."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only