Snow can wait
I forgot my mittens
Wipe my nose
Get my new boots on
I get a little warm in my heart
When I think of winter
I put my hand in my father's glove...
Tifa was sitting down at the baby grand piano, her fingers dancing upon the keys as the melodic music of the instrument and her voice filled the small hall. A hundred empty seats were her only
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Comments 45
He also didn't expect her to be crying, which is why he's scaled back on the sleazy flirting for once. "Are you alright? It's not right for a beautiful lady to cry."
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Gently, she turned so that she was sitting sideways, her fingers lightly dancing upon the keys as she looked at him.
"I'm fine," she said softly and blushed a little at his compliment.
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He leaned against the steps leading up to the stage, resting his elbow on the stage proper. "What's your name?"
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"Tifa. You?"
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He approached her then. "Hello." He probably looked like a miniature-turk, what with the suit he wore. If not for the visible indent lines along his jaw, and the ball joints at his fingers and wrists (among other places) he looked like a human teenager. However, his flesh was cold - around 60 degrees Fahrenheit, actually.
"I do not think I have ever heard anything like that. Where did you learn to play?"
{CR is fine, though he won't say no to any, erm, curiosities about his body. He's more than used to them, and in the canon that his "kind" is from, they're used for less-than-noble things no matter their visible age.}}
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Thinking about it now, Tifa realised that her mother had begun teaching her discipline even before her training Zangan.
"I wrote it for my father," she said after a while. Tifa had taken notice of his appearance, squinting to make sure she actually saw right. Were those ball-joints on his fingers and arms?
"...who are you?"
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He then smiled. "Your parents taught you well, then." He could see the love that she had for them, even though he had no actual parents, himself.
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A living doll...? "Nice to meet you, Ryota. I'm Tifa," she said with a smile.
She smiled softly at his comment; they had taught her well, and she found herself wishing that they were still alive so they could finish what they started. "Thank you."
Did living dolls have parents too? Or at least owners -- perhaps an owner could be considered a parent. She felt uncomfortable asking such a question.
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