✸ hear my regards to soul and romance
Today, Stigmata's bar is graced with soft piano playing; the piano hasn't been moved into the bar, remaining in an adjoining room, as the player doesn't see the point of that. (There is a jukebox for anyone that would prefer different music; the player wouldn't want to assume what others prefer to hear.) The music is classical to anyone that can hear; Romantic, to the trained; and Brahms, to the particularly well-trained. Light, harmonious, and delicate. It sounds better on strings, really, but on the piano is just as beautiful and what is available, anyway.
To Quatre's surprise, he has not yet played something darker. It has been a year since he has been to this particular nexus and establishment; it was a reluctant return, though - work, after all and the loss of a close friend from another nexus. He isn't really gone, but he is further away now, which is sad enough for someone as emotional as Quatre. So here he is, relaxing in a different nexus with little ties. He isn't exactly expecting to meet new friends, but wouldn't it be nice?
To Quatre's surprise, he has not yet played something darker. It has been a year since he has been to this particular nexus and establishment; it was a reluctant return, though - work, after all and the loss of a close friend from another nexus. He isn't really gone, but he is further away now, which is sad enough for someone as emotional as Quatre. So here he is, relaxing in a different nexus with little ties. He isn't exactly expecting to meet new friends, but wouldn't it be nice?