(no subject)

[mogget_cat]

There is an albino young man dressed all in white on the couch, tonight. The guitar in his hands is as stark white as his clothing, its sounds gentle as Yrael's fingers move deftly over the strings.

He's in a reflective mood, tonight, and would be quite willing to play for any who would listen.

Comments

[boundxkitty]

He's got brown eyes watching him for a moment. And then her head is turned so she can pile the paperwork she'd been working on neatly. Said piles is given to a waitrat with the request that Bar hold it for her. She'll grab it when she goes up to bed.

For now, it leaves her free to wander quietly and barefooted over to Yrael. She settles on the floor back against the couch. It's been ages since she's heard him play.

[mogget_cat]

It's a peaceful, welcoming tune the plucked strings sing upon her arrival, like a warm blanket and cup of tea.

A little trill upon one of the lower strings captures the sound of Yrael's chuckle.

[boundxkitty]

The tune brings a smile to her face. After a small stretch because she'd been sitting in that booth too long, she rests her head back against the cushions of the couch. Her eyes are closed, because it's better to concentrate on the music that way.

[mogget_cat]

That stretch gets a real chuckle from Yrael.

The guitar's song tiptoes up her spine like fingertips being evil about not giving real scritches.

How cruel.

[boundxkitty]

The real chuckle gets one closed eye open to glance at Yrael.

How cruel indeed.

There may be the faintest shifting of position for a moment. And a small pout.

[mogget_cat]

Yrael grins. Tilting his guitar, he's able to run his knuckles across the back of her head, lightly.

Hee hee hee. Evil.

[boundxkitty]

She turns her head to look at him, and the pout has disappeared from her face. "Pure evil," is murmured at him and while her voice holds the pout she may have a smile tilting out in the corners of her mouth.

[mogget_cat]

"Pure, at least," he murmurs with a smile, "whatever else I may be."

[boundxkitty]

She gives the faintest snort of amusement. "Pure you." Not that it helps with the what part really.

[mogget_cat]

"Oh good. You had me worried there for a moment."

He would rather stay resolutely unaffiliated than be labeled as evil.

[boundxkitty]

"I did? Why is that?"

Because she'd honestly meant it in a teasing fashion. Nothing serious about the comment.

[mogget_cat]

Yrael grins, lopsidedly. "I would hate to be anything but myself."

[boundxkitty]

Her head flops back against the couch. "I think I would hate that as well. I like you for being yourself."

[dontloselight.livejournal.com]

Well, Cloud isn't exactly here for the listening, but he is close enough to where Yrael is situated so that whatever music is being played can easily be heard.

[mogget_cat]

It's a quiet song, reticent, being coaxed out into the air by the deftness of Yrael's fingers, note by soft note.

It doesn't quite know what it wants to say, so Yrael himself is silent, for now. Perhaps the song will remember what it is, eventually, as piece by piece the notes work, trying to put the song back together.

[dontloselight.livejournal.com]

Cloud picks up his drink and takes a sip.

The song does begin to attract his attention.

[mogget_cat]

The guitar sings a low rhythm, punctuated with slow bouts of high notes. They are too slow to be called trills, too weighted down. Held down, despite their high tone. The mood of the song, the steady pace held in check by the low beat, is gradually darkening, becoming earthier as its wishes to rise are denied.

Yrael's warm tenor soon joins in, giving voice to the song.

"A bad dream shook me in my sleep
and I woke up sweating.
Ran through the dark to the shower,
already forgetting.
Try to think good thoughts-
Try to find my way clear.
Let the room fill with steam-
Trace pictures on the mirror.
Ghosts and clouds,
and nameless things...
Squint your eyes and hope real hard:
Maybe sprout wings.

I clawed my way to the living room window-
stood there in the cold.
The last bits of my dream
like figures in the distance-
hard to hold.
I thought of old friends,
the ones who'd gone missing-
Said all their names three times.
Phantoms in the early dark-
Canaries in the mines.
Ghosts and clouds,
and nameless things...
Squint your eyes and hope real hard:
Maybe sprout wings."

[dontloselight.livejournal.com]

Well, then.

That's the sort of song that -

It brings to mind a lot of things, though the majority of his past is still vague, enshrouded in dark shadow, or simply kept locked away from him.

The mood of the song does weigh on him, though, pressing against the darkness inside him. Whether it is for good or bad remains to be seen.

Slowly, he takes another sip of his drink.

[mogget_cat]

Yrael pretends not to have noticed. The vague meanderings of his fingers across the strings continue for a good while more, before he sets his guitar down.

It's only on his return trip from the bar that Yrael greets Cloud, as though he had only just seen him.

"Good evening, Cloud," he says, cheerfully.

[dontloselight.livejournal.com]

Cloud looks up, expression neutral.

"Yrael," he says by way of a return-greeting.

[mogget_cat]

"How fares the night?"

Knight?

Night.

[dontloselight.livejournal.com]

He nods.

"Fine," he replies.

Lying? Posssibly.

[mogget_cat]

Yrael flops down on the couch again.

"That's nice to hear."

That possibly makes two of them.

"Anything interesting going on? How's Hollow Bastion?" Still blue? Still rocky? Still with that library that Yrael covets?

[dontloselight.livejournal.com]

"Hollow Bastion is fine," he replies, promptly. "The structures are almost complete."

It's just the life of the world that appears to be missing.

[mogget_cat]

"And the people?"

From Yrael's experience, there tend to be a lot of births around wars. That whole sex-and-death, peak-experiences things humans do. Hollow Bastion should be repopulating, shouldn't it? Slowly?