There are strong, familiar chords coming from the piano in the church--something both bombastic and moody, a musical tantrum in a minor key; perhaps it's Tchaikovsky or Moussorgsky, but more likely it only has the sound of a long-dead Russian composer ( Read more... )

The evening's unseasonably warm, the low, grim clouds folding over the Mansion like a thick quilt. John stands on the porch with his elbows on the rail; the wind cuts through his thin outer shirt on occasion, but for the most part he's comfortable, content ( Read more... )

At first glance, the room is like any other--a door that opens off to the second-floor hall, another door set into the right wall, a window with the curtains drawn almost completely together. In his perennial search for cigarettes, the room appears to bear little consideration ( Read more... )

Due to the playing-timeline not quite matching the in-game timeline, the typist has simply collapsed things such that this morning occurs after the timeline goes fractal. The best thing about timelines going fractal is, they allow typist to cut out awkward temporal gaps. :D

John has got muffins and bread, for no greater price than Alyosha's labor ( Read more... )

It startles him, when he realizes that Buzz is gone. There's the basic, expected level of startlement; he'd always been certain (somehow, subconsciously) that Buzz would be a permanent fixture of his life, and so the absence is like discovering that a part of himself is missing ... but there's also a deeper, troubling level, and he's trying to ( Read more... )

Shhhh, anti-OTP weekend isn't over until we say it is.When Alyosha gets back to the room that he shares, he'll find John still in bed, sheets wrapped around him like a cocoon. He's awake--but he can't be bothered to move from his nest more than necessary, only raising his eyes a little and grinning at the entrance. "Hello, duck. Almost late for ( Read more... )

John's managed to cadge a script from one of Cyrano's actors, and he's currently got it propped up on a music stand near the piano. Atop the piano itself, he has his own book of blank staff paper, onto which he occasionally transcribes a particularly good bit of improvisation. He's been in need of a new project lately, and there are very few ( Read more... )

*John's life has been very quietly spectacular for the last few weeks. he's had a sense of purpose, between cooking and writing music and the odd sojourn to Australia for entertainment and meds; on top of that, he has a serious boyfriend (and so what if he's a fictional 19th-century Russian? John doesn't judge ( Read more... )

John wants to be left alone. He's left a bundle of medicines (liberated from an Australian pharmacy) at Buzz's and James's door, he's done a shift cooking breakfast, and he's taken a long shower. Now, he's finishing his last pack of cigarettes, chain-smoking them on the porch with one hand cupping his elbow, the other hand held poised by his ( Read more... )

This is John, on his shift cooking dinner. He has got a recipe book propped open on the counter, as well as some tender greens and herbs laid out, and there are strips of rabbit meat on the cutting board. There is also the basket of crackplot apples that Rosencrantz brought in, but John will be damned if he makes anyone here a cobbler ( Read more... )