eighteen. [audio]

[donotstab]

[There is only the sound of someone (or several someones) banging on piano keys. And Masada quietly crying because ohgod his soul pianooooo. It takes him a moment to compose himself, but he's obviously struggling not to kill everything that dare touches his piano.]

...I do not like these people. They should crash somewhere else next time.

Maybe

Comments

[wants_ur_ears]

...Masada, maybe you should get them away from your piano.

[donotstab]

I want to.

B-but... they might get mad.

[wants_ur_ears]

Then punch them.

[donotstab]

...I can't.

[wants_ur_ears]

Why not? It would work.

[donotstab]

I can't do that.

[wants_ur_ears]

Well, you could also leave the room...

[donotstab]

[And leave them with his piano?]

...No.

[wants_ur_ears]

No?

[donotstab]

I can't leave them alone. They might... hurt it.

[wants_ur_ears]

...Masada, I think they'll effectively hurt it with or without you.

[donotstab]

B-but... my piano!

[wants_ur_ears]

They are destroying it either way. Or can you not hear that disaster?

[donotstab]

...Yes.

[wants_ur_ears]

That sort of renders your point moot, don't you think?

[donotstab]

But... but...

Maybe someone just needs to dream them back into space. That's what Madotsuki always did...