When I'm a-walking, I strut my stuff
WHO: Rail Kainer, super duper open!
LOCATION: Outside on the lawn somewhere
WEEK: 67
TIME: Shortly after the Quidditch match on Saturday
WHAT: Rocking out on the grass like a bum
RATING: :Db?
The steel strings of the guitar bit into the flats of Rail's fingertips as he moved them along the frets of his guitar, hard enough to leave noticeable indents in the callouses that had developed over years of playing string instruments. His other hand moved more idlely, picking at the strings with languid movements, producing slow, easy chords as he kept going.
Rail was never really a people person, and it was moments like this, where he could just ignore everything going on around him -- whether it be zombies, shitty quidditch games, roommates leaving, or blue-haired people being incredibly dense-- and chill, focusing on his guitar and only his guitar.
The sun felt nice on his face, and Rail decided that he was going to make today a good day, even if he couldn't help but feel more and more like this wasn't where he was supposed to be, or being unable to ignore the desire to pack everything up and just head back to Salem Academy.