2nd Observation [accidental audio // open commentlog]
[Fred has been exploring despite the repeated warnings about danger, under the theory that the ship is huge and the likelihood of being in the same place as trouble is low. His entire existence contradicts this theory, but Fred is nothing if not People's Exhibit A of unbridled curiosity, and there was no chance he'd stay put for longer than about two hours.
He's discovered the piano in the aptly if uncreatively named Grand Piano on Deck 08. Fred was a music major for a while during those 13 years of college, and there's something about the emptiness of the ship that draws him to the piano. Such things are ordinarily reserved for the staff, but Fred has never been overmuch concerned with the rules beyond not getting caught, and the staff isn't actually around right now, anyway.
Sitting at the bench, Fred reacquaints himself with the keyboard, remembering the hand positions and the various movements, and running through scales and five-finger exercises. The muscle memory is there, and within a few minutes he's playing a perfectly acceptable rendition of "Für Elise."
A little embarrassed that someone might have wandered by and heard him playing the most cliché piano piece in history, Fred clears his throat self-consciously and shifts a bit on the bench--which triggers his comm and broadcasts what follows to anyone who cares to listen:]
[audio // English]
[Fred noodles at the keyboard for a few seconds, when a chord he strikes reminds him of something, and he launches into a piano arrangement of the Clash's "The Card Cheat," performing the vocals in a pleasant enough tenor, albeit one roughened by years of heavy smoking. (He's still got a better voice than Joe Strummer.)]
There's a solitary man crying, "Hold me."
It's only because he's a-lonely
If the keeper of time runs slowly
He won't be alive for long!
If he only had time to tell of all of the things he planned
With a card up his sleeve, what would he achieve?
It means nothing!
To the opium den and the barroom gin
In the Belmont chair playing violins
The gambler's face cracks into a grin
As he lays down the king of spades.
But the dealer just stares
There's something wrong here, he thinks
The gambler is seized and forced to his knees
And shot dead.
He only wanted more time
Away from the darkest door
But his luck it gave in
As the dawn light crept in
And he lay on the floor.
From the Hundred Years War to the Crimea
With a lance and a musket and a Roman spear
To all of the men who have stood with no fear
In the service of the King
Before you met your fate be sure you
Did not forsake your lover
May not be around anymore.
The Clash version on YouTube
[There's silence from Fred for a while, then the sound of cloth rubbing as he pulls the comm out of his pocket, where it had been jabbing him uncomfortably.]
...Aww, hell.
[Click.]
((OOC: If you're not in the plot, come hang out with Fred, or tease him over the comms. Or hell, even if you are. We won't hold it against you.))
He's discovered the piano in the aptly if uncreatively named Grand Piano on Deck 08. Fred was a music major for a while during those 13 years of college, and there's something about the emptiness of the ship that draws him to the piano. Such things are ordinarily reserved for the staff, but Fred has never been overmuch concerned with the rules beyond not getting caught, and the staff isn't actually around right now, anyway.
Sitting at the bench, Fred reacquaints himself with the keyboard, remembering the hand positions and the various movements, and running through scales and five-finger exercises. The muscle memory is there, and within a few minutes he's playing a perfectly acceptable rendition of "Für Elise."
A little embarrassed that someone might have wandered by and heard him playing the most cliché piano piece in history, Fred clears his throat self-consciously and shifts a bit on the bench--which triggers his comm and broadcasts what follows to anyone who cares to listen:]
[audio // English]
[Fred noodles at the keyboard for a few seconds, when a chord he strikes reminds him of something, and he launches into a piano arrangement of the Clash's "The Card Cheat," performing the vocals in a pleasant enough tenor, albeit one roughened by years of heavy smoking. (He's still got a better voice than Joe Strummer.)]
There's a solitary man crying, "Hold me."
It's only because he's a-lonely
If the keeper of time runs slowly
He won't be alive for long!
If he only had time to tell of all of the things he planned
With a card up his sleeve, what would he achieve?
It means nothing!
To the opium den and the barroom gin
In the Belmont chair playing violins
The gambler's face cracks into a grin
As he lays down the king of spades.
But the dealer just stares
There's something wrong here, he thinks
The gambler is seized and forced to his knees
And shot dead.
He only wanted more time
Away from the darkest door
But his luck it gave in
As the dawn light crept in
And he lay on the floor.
From the Hundred Years War to the Crimea
With a lance and a musket and a Roman spear
To all of the men who have stood with no fear
In the service of the King
Before you met your fate be sure you
Did not forsake your lover
May not be around anymore.
The Clash version on YouTube
[There's silence from Fred for a while, then the sound of cloth rubbing as he pulls the comm out of his pocket, where it had been jabbing him uncomfortably.]
...Aww, hell.
[Click.]
((OOC: If you're not in the plot, come hang out with Fred, or tease him over the comms. Or hell, even if you are. We won't hold it against you.))