Max Caulfield, by the fireplace

[little_pieces_of_time]

It has been a whirlwind of a time, for Max. No dire pun intended. So when she finds the door open to the opportunity for a quiet moment, she takes it.

So there is a small photography student taking a break on the couch. She has her guitar with her, its edges chipped but decorated with a small grouping of butterfly stickers, and is finding her way through the notes of the song she has stuck in her head. She may be quietly humming the vocal line in counterpoint to the guitar.

Comments

[gondolin_noble]

Elves are musical magpies. They'll happily pick up any little bit, if it's shiny enough.

So really, it shouldn't be a surprise that very shortly there is a lanky elf sprawled in one of the armchairs, listening in as he works his way through a sheaf of goose feathers, making fletching. Ignore all the braids and beading in his hair, he was forced to go to court today, and decided to be as obnoxious about it as possible.

[little_pieces_of_time]

Those are a lot of braids, and a lot of beads. And... she's being listened to.

To Max's credit, she doesn't immediately stop playing out of awkwardness.

It's a near thing, though.

She continues on, humming her way quietly through the words. It's an odd song, the shifting guitar chords and hummed tune in syncopated rhythm from one another, and the ending notes offer little resolution.

[gondolin_noble]

It's not a terribly... satisfying sort of song. But, bonus, it's not about balrogs.

He's not sure what it is about, but he'll take a respite from balrogs.

[little_pieces_of_time]

It's not a satisfying song, she would agree, but it reflects her inner dissatisfaction. Her friend is hurting, and she isn't sure she can help in a way that makes any difference.

Max isn't great at initiating conversations, but she is trying to get better at it. She gives a faint smile at the - very obviously - elf, and asks, "Can I ask what you're making?"

What does one do with feathers, beyond stuff pillows? Make quills for writing?

[undead_radish_seller]

Wen Ning is nearby, just listening to the music turning coherent.

[little_pieces_of_time]

Max is mulling over the events of the day, humming the melody to herself as she plays. Occasionally, very faint, there are words.

"...crosses... all over,
heavy on your shoulders.
The sirens inside you,
waiting to step forward..."

"We'll cast some light and you'll be alright..."

[undead_radish_seller]

"Why crosses?" Wen Ning asks, quietly. It seems an odd pattern to mark oneself as -- heavy?

[little_pieces_of_time]

Max startles with the realization she is being listened to, the music faltering. She blushes, ducking her head.

"Ah.. it's... a reference. 'One's cross to bear' is a... a metaphor for a person's personal burden. It, ah, comes from an ancient times method of execution - being nailed to a giant wooden cross and left to die," Max replies. "They made people sentenced to die that way carry their own crosses to the place of execution."

Some people carry heavier burdens than others.

[undead_radish_seller]

"Oh," Wen Ning says. "I guess every culture will invent official ways to make people die horribly."

[little_pieces_of_time]

Max looks at him, head slightly lowered, and presses her lips together.

"Pretty much."

"I'm more familiar with... the metaphor. The song is about helping someone bear their burdens, and letting them know they're not alone."

[undead_radish_seller]

Wen Ning nods. "It helps, when you're being taken to your death."

[little_pieces_of_time]

Max looks at him, glancing at the dark veins that show from beneath his collar. It's not the first time Max has wondered about the circumstances of Wen Ning's 'death,' but she isn't sure how to ask.

"That's... what I'm trying to prevent."

("She was my angel. Rachel saved my life.")

"I wasn't there, when a friend of mine needed someone there to help her through some very rough times. The person who saved her has gone missing, so we're trying to find her."

[undead_radish_seller]

"Do you think somebody killed her?" Wen Ning asks. "Do you need a fierce corpse to fuck shit up?"

At least that's how the Bar translates his probably very rude idiom in early medieval Chinese.


[[OOC: Educated guesswork on Tumblr sets The Untamed at vaguely the same time when the last Ostrogoths left Italy.]]

[little_pieces_of_time]

The blunt offer startles a giggle from her. "That's- that's very kind of you to offer, Wen Ning."

"I... I actually hope we find out Rachel just left for somewhere else, which is what some of the other students at Blackwell think. As much as it would hurt Chloe to find out Rachel left her behind without saying anything - apparently they had been planning to leave together, anyway - it... it would hurt worse if she were dead."

Someone who leaves but is still alive can come back someday.

"We've pieced together a bit of the timeline before she disappeared, so far. Haven't run into anyone who has more information yet, though."

[undead_radish_seller]

"Who could you ask?" Wen Ning asks. "I could hold that person upside-down for you and shake them a little. But just a little; I don't like to really hurt them. With real pain or so."

[little_pieces_of_time]

"Tempting," she admits, ducking her head and grinning. "There is one person I'd like to ask in particular, but I doubt he'd tell me anything. He already has problems with me."

"We'll figure it out. It seems like Rachel was... known by a lot of people - everyone at Blackwell was aware of her, or heard rumors about her - but it doesn't seem like she was close to anyone we've talked to. Except Chloe herself, of course."

That's not a touch of jealousy in her tone, honest.

[undead_radish_seller]

"And what does this Chloe know?" Wen Ning asks.

[little_pieces_of_time]

"Well," Max thinks of the tone in Chloe's voice when she spoke of Rachel.

"Chloe knows Rachel also felt trapped in Arcadia Bay and was looking for a way out. They had... planned on saving money enough to get themselves out of Arcadia and down to LA - Los Angeles, a r-really big city way south of Oregon. Rachel wanted to be a model."

Again she can hear how different and outgoing and beautiful Rachel must have been to Chloe.

"They were close enough to be making plans together, and that's way more than anyone else I've talked to."

[undead_radish_seller]

"What is a model?" Wen Ning asks.

[little_pieces_of_time]

"Well, some models are... for..."

Hang on, Max... back up.

"High-end fashion designers hire models to wear and display their latest designs in fashion shows, so folks can see how they look being worn. They model the clothes. Models are... usually beautiful, so Rachel would fit right in there. Models often are used in advertising, as well. To make whatever product is being sold look good."

"Everything I've heard about Rachel tells me just how different we are. Rachel enjoyed being in front of the camera, having her photo taken. I... much prefer to be the one behind the camera."

Hiding, really. Unless it's for a selfie, in which case she is both model and photographer.

[undead_radish_seller]

"Oh," Wen Ning said. "That makes sense. If you take lots of pictures, you need people who have their picture taken in just the right way, like ladies in beautiful robes on a painted scroll."

Pause.

"Is there anything dishonourable about it?"

[little_pieces_of_time]

"Huh? No, I wouldn't think so," Max shakes her head.

Well...

"I mean, like any professional field there are different ways of going about it. Some models display high fashion for designers' fashion shows, or pose for advertisements to make products look attractive. Some do artistic modeling for photography, or painting, or sculpture."

"Some may model nude, or scantily dressed," she adds, thinking of some of the fashion show photos she has seen. "I wouldn't even call that dishonorable, really. There are... some people who disparage the very idea of models - calling them mobile clothes racks, moving mannequins - but I always notice they don't spread that disdain to the professions that use them."

Just the model.

[undead_radish_seller]

"I guess they are all young and beautiful ladies?" Wen Ning says. "If that is what your friend Rachel is going to be?"

[space_puffin]

There's a pitter patter of webbed feet as Puffy waddles over to her. He stares at her for a long moment before crooning in tune with her.

[little_pieces_of_time]

The smol creature is terribly cute, and Max's faint smile brightens as it begins crooning along with her song. Playing music in front of animals is somehow less daunting an idea than playing in front of other people. Less risk of judgement, she supposes. And who could resist such adorable accompaniment?

[space_puffin]

Oh, Puffy can be quite judgemental, but for right now he seems to appreciate the singing and playing. His eyes lid and he puffs up some, settling into a proper sit, as he continues to sing.

The unusual thing about the porg, it must be noted, is a collar with a small box on it. It doesn't seem to be bothering the bird, obviously, but it's there.

[little_pieces_of_time]

She smiles, humming along as she plays the calming, somewhat melancholy song. Occasionally there might be words, quietly sung under the sound the guitar and the singing bird.

"Don't you know that
I'll be around to guide you?
Through your weakest moments
To leave them behind you."

"Returning nightmares, only shadows,
We'll cast some light and you'll be alright...."

[space_puffin]

At the chorus, Puffy joins in, with a squeaky chirruping voice... as in actually singing the words.