Music has charms to soothe a savage beast.

[asher_talos]

As he debated with himself internally, Asher gently tapped out imaginary cord after imaginary cord onto his knees with his fingers. He’s antsy, but tentative and not really sure why the hell he’s making such a big deal out of this to begin with; it’s stupid and he knows it. He’d spent the last ten minutes staring at the piano from afar, warily, as

Comments

[frakkup]

"What is that?" Kara asked, having been drawn from the hallway by the music, following it until she came to stand over his shoulder. "Is that from Earth?"

[asher_talos]

"The piano...?" Asher asked, brow slightly arched before he looks up and realizes who exactly is posing the question. Right, her, not-of-this-world and all. "The song... Uh, yeah, it is. Beethoven, definitely an Earthling." A little loopy, kind of bipolar, but he was an artist, after all. Weren't they all like that?

[frakkup]

"Beethoven," Kara repeated. She hadn't heard that name before. "There was a kid here once, he knew, uh...Ch - Frak. Tchaikovsky?" She hit his shoulder. "Do that."

[asher_talos]

"That as far as you're gonna narrow it down for me? Hmm..." Wiggling his fingers above the keys, he purses his lips together thoughtfully before settling on Nocturne in C sharp minor, transitioning into the slightly more melancholy piece easy enough. Maybe he should have gone for something from The Nutcracker...

"Was a kid?" Asher asks, remembering a conversation he'd had with that Mamet guy about people just out and vanishing from the island. It was probably the most unsettling detail about this place; the island could evict you if it chose to, without even so much as the benefit of a tribal council or Jeff Probst snuffing out a tiki torch in your honor. It was beyond fucked. "Were you close?"

[outta_texas]

The piano music wakes Tyra, where she's curled on the sofa and, for a minute, she just lies listening to him, her head pillowed on her arm, her hair spilling over the arm of the couch. From behind, she can't make out what he looks like, so she just lies with her eyes closed and listens to him.

It's not her taste, but he's pretty good.

[asher_talos]

So he's not the most considerate resident of the Compound. Asher hadn't actually noticed anyone trying to catch their forty winks in the rec room before he began playing, but even if he had, there's really no telling if he would have acted any differently. He's still working of this cohabitation with 'equals' thing, rather than viewing everyone who isn't him as a subordinates, and the transition was definitely slow going, but baby steps were better than refusing to budge like a stubborn mule. Realizing that much had to be worth a few bonus points.

Egalitarianism was hard.

[outta_texas]

Well, shit. Tyra guesses that she's up then. She sits up, hair tousled on one side of her face, rubbing one eye with one fist.

"Good mornin' to you too," she murmurs, stifling a yawn. "Am I gonna have to tip you?"

[asher_talos]

Asher risks a glance over his shoulder but manages to keep the tune going, if not a bit slower in tempo than it should be. "Nah, complimentary wake-up call. You know, sort of like a hotel. I'm afraid I don't cook, though, so you'll have to fend for yourself when it comes to breakfast."

When he thinks on it, if anyone tried waking him up 'complementarity', he'd probably give them a complimentary black eye...

"I'm--" Sorry? No. Well, yes, he was, sort of, but apologies are a few baby steps away still. "--Asher."

[sly_magus]

Raistlin had meant to get back to what others referred to as the "Rec Room" long before this, but it simply hadn't happened. He was a little bit relieved when he saw the books, even though he knew they were magical, because they reminded him of one of the comforts of home that he missed. He was given a book about Roman history and sat down in a nearby chair with it.

The music as actually nice, though he wasn't anything that he recognized but then he had gotten to where he expected most everything to be unfamiliar. It was disconcerting still, but he was actually showing less of a reaction to it all as time went on.

[asher_talos]

"It must like you," Asher says, glancing over at him once he's seated. "The bookshelf, I mean." He'd been convinced the thing had it out for him, or maybe he just didn't know how to work it. He's never managed to walk away from it with anything worth hanging onto and has contemplated setting the thing on fire on more than one occasion.

"All it ever gives me is Bram Stoker or Anne Rice." Back home, inanimate objects usually didn't mock him.

[sly_magus]

"Like me?" He put his book aside and glanced at the bookshelf taking it in very carefully. "It gives you only certain books?" He wouldn't get his hopes up, but it certainly seemed as if the thing might be enchanted. If that were the case then there was, or at least at one time had been, magic here on Tabula Rasa. He didn't recognize the names, but then he figured if the bookshelf was enchanted then it would be able to give books as long at the person that received them had heard of them.

[asher_talos]

"Uh-huh. Thing's a regular comedian sometimes; got a mind of its own...metaphorically speaking." And still, it was only half as cruel as the clothing box. Anne Rice was almost forgivable when compared to anything with an Ocean Pacific logo or horizontal stripes. Even worse was Ocean Pacific with horizontal stripes.

Asher shudders.

[belongsomeplace]

Jim thinks he recognizes the song, but he doesn't know the name of it and he's not sure he ever did. He thinks maybe it was something his grandmother used to play, back when she used to play the piano sometimes, before his grandfather died.

He doesn't say anything to the guy playing it - he thinks he knows him, but he's not sure - but he sits down right nearby and listens.

[canaan_divided]

Mamet likes knowing the other guys who look like him have talent, it makes him wonder if he has the ability in him, too, somewhere. He's never been musically inclined, beyond just listening, but Billy played the guitar and Asher can play the piano. Maybe there's another him out there who'll drop in and provide the drum section.

He doesn't interrupt, just leans against the wall like he's part of it, and listens.

[asher_talos]

"Hey there, Mamet," he says, glancing over the look-a-like. Luckily, talking and playing this particular piece didn’t pose too much of a problem for him. After playing it a few thousand times over, not much thought was required.

The fact that there were others on the island with his face was still something to get used to, but being the narcissistic creature that he was, the adjustment wasn’t really one of the more terrible ones. And even with all of that invasion-of-the-body-snatcher stuff aside, though, Mamet did reminded him an awful lot of himself when he was younger, a lot younger, and before everything. The fact that he looked like him too just sort of drove the point home. "How’s it goin’?"

[canaan_divided]

Mamet shrugs lightly, but smiles. "I'm okay."

He walks closer to the piano, hands in his jacket pockets. Somehow he feels shy around Asher now, but still genuinely curious. "You're good at that."

[asher_talos]

"Everyone needs a hobby," he says, smiling lightly. This just happened to be the one talent that transferred well to island life. Knowing exactly how much blood you can let from a person before they stopped scream, before the stopped struggling and went unconscious might have been a talent back home, but it was somewhat useless here. Especially when he was so poorly equipped.

"You should have heard the guy who wrote it. Live... But I guess Beethoven is a few centuries too early for you."