all_inclusive | I took my love, took it down.

The twilight was painted in soft strokes across a tumble of low-slung clouds, pinks and purples distilled from the glitter of the infinite sky to spill over neatly-clipped lawns and gently burbling fountains. Perched upon one of the retaining walls in the English garden, Larry was bent over a guitar propped up by one braced knee, evening shadows chasing across his face as he strummed out a familiar melody with calloused fingers.

A year he'd been in this place; a year of quiet living and silently-borne restitution, a year that felt simultaneously endless and a blink, a year that had fostered introspection and little else. Good things still left him skittish, afraid of what followed, and despite it all the very nature of that feeling seemed another failure.

Frannie had been gone a month, and he still wasn't certain why he hadn't seen it coming.

The back edge of the guitar rested against his chest, each note humming through the thin cotton of his t-shirt and under his skin. He needed a haircut, dark curls sliding across his downturned eyes as began to softly sing.

Even children get older, and I'm getting older, too.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Chiana had been listening in silence for a while, trying to decide what to think of the music. He had a decent voice, she supposed, this Earth man. She didn't even entertain the fact that he might be Sebacean; they'd never sing something like this.

When the song came to an end, she took a few steps forward, until she came into view, a creature of the twilight in her shades of grey. "Is that what Earth music is like?" she asked curiously. It was very... soft, and mellow. She really wasn't sure what to make of it.

Larry had seen her before. She was a difficult one to miss, a buoyant ghost of whites and greys amidst the hotel's sea of decidedly human figures. It was a little surprising, he thought, that somebody like her was so rare in a place like this. Just now, she reminded him of the clouds, the soft, pastel colors of the sky lovely on her pale skin and hair.

He plucked out a few more chords and then laid his hand to rest across the guitar strings as he smiled gently up at her.

"Some of it," he answered.

Chiana leaned against the wall a few feet from him, and nodded at the instrument in his hands. "What's that called?"

She didn't really know anything about music, no matter where it came from, beyond whether she could dance to it or not. She had seen instruments like this one, on one world or another, but she didn't think she'd ever seen this one, exactly.

"This is a guitar," Larry answered, and strummed once across the strings. "There are different kinds that sound different, but this one is acoustic. No electricity."

Still watching her, he strummed out the brisk intro to 'My Sweet Lord' and then stopped again, head tilted so that his too-long hair swept across his forehead.

"What planet are you from?"

"Nebari Prime," Chiana answered, and came a couple of feet closer. "You wouldn't like it there," she added, tilting her head to the side with a humorless chuckle, her upper body mostly following the gesture, "they don't really do music." 'They', not 'we'. She'd never felt like a proper citizen of the Establishment.

"Probably not, then," Larry agreed, still smiling but obviously bemused. "You seem like you like it well enough, though," he pointed out with a lift of his eyebrows. "Enough to ask questions, anyway."

Music had always felt so intrinsic to him, not just natural, but part of nature itself. Humans had been making music since the first caveman could bang two sticks together, and denying that part of him would be like denying his own divinity.

"I didn't like it there," Chiana explained with a sharp grin, as if there was anything funny about it, and leaped onto the wall he was sitting on, still a little way from him. "Play something else?" she requested as she settled down into an easy crouch, watching him with curious black eyes.

There was a world of nuance and mystery in that smile, but Larry didn't ask for explanation. Some secrets were better kept, and God knew he had plenty of his own. It was pretty regardless, even with the sharpness, and he hitched his own mouth briefly up in reply.

Looking down to his guitar, he took a moment to roll over musical options in his mind and then burst into the bright opening strum of 'Tin Man.' Hair falling across his eyes, he began to sing in an easy, clear voice and then glanced up to his audience as he continued.

Chiana had settled down on the wall, one leg dangling off of it and the other folded against her chest so she could wrap her arms very loosely around it and rest her chin on her knee. She was watching the human closely as she listened; the melody was so foreign to her, the simplicity and warmth of the instrument and his voice. She didn't understand half of the lyrics, though, or what they were referring to, so a small frown appeared between her brows as she tried to figure out what the song was about, really.

For someone who hailed from some far-flung planet, Larry supposed just about any song he could choose would be at least a little confusing. The songs he favored tended to skew toward cliche: Pop culture references and catchy melodies masquerading as depth of meaning. Still, he guessed everything was relative.

Finishing, he settled his hand against the strings to quiet them. "Where I come from, there's a story about a girl who is carried away by a tornado to a magical world," he explained. "There's a tin man who helps her along the way, and all he wants in the world is a heart. They go on a long journey, and have to kill a witch– Anyway, at the end, the wizard in charge gives the tin man an honorary heart. But the point of the story is he didn't really need a real heart, because he had heart all along. You know, like figuratively." He tilted his head in consideration and huffed out a soft laugh. "It's actually kind of a crazy story now I think of it, but I loved it as a kid."

"It sounds crazy," Chiana agreed, lifting her head up from her knee and giving him a quick, sharp smile. "Good thing I like crazy. Why'd they have to kill the witch?"

I took my love, took it down.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject