When Cherry heard the lute, she knew somehow that it was Jemaine. There was no real reason to jump to that conclusion. Bret and Demyx both had lutes, not to mention a number of the locals. There was just some instinct in her bones, telling her it was Jemaine. Cherry used to rely on her instincts heavily. Lately, and by lately that meant since coming to Rowan, her instincts had failed her, but she liked to believe in some kind of upswing.
She followed the sound, hopping a little bit with the music. As she neared, she realized she had no idea what to say to Jemaine. She didn't really know him that well, aside from what Bret had told her about him, and that was pretty murky. Well, she supposed, there was no better way to learn about a person than just spending them with them. And if Bret considered him worthwhile, she owed it to Bret to think so as well. They were friends, after all.
The chord progression stopped abruptly as Jemaine flicked his palm down over the strings, raising his head.
Okay, so it wasn't totally unlikely.
"Hey Cherry," he called back with a wave. He stood, balancing the lute under his arm and regaining his footing before making his way over, still waving awkwardly and rather unnecessarily. "Didn't think I'd see you. How are you?"
"Vertical," Cherry said with a smile. She turned, rising up onto her toes and doing a full 360, her red skirt flaring out around her. "On my feet and everything." She meant it to sound funny. Still, she realized, Jemaine probably hadn't really dealt with her when she wasn't stuck in bed.
"I'm good. Better. Good as new really." Okay, enough with the babble already. "How are you?"
Maybe he should become a lesbian. And get a head injury.
"Well I'm glad you're vertical," he replied, smiling further as she twirled. "Though I'm sure you're just as nice horizontal." Oh God, think before you speak, Jemaine. "Uh. I just mean -- oh. That came out wrong. I didn't, it was a compliment, really. Gnnnm." There was something truly sad about his inability to properly communicate. That and you couldn't hit on lesbians. There were rules.
Cherry laughed brightly. Not so much because she thought what he said was funny, but rather, so he wouldn't feel quite so awkward. She knew what it was like to live with her foot in her mouth. It was really uncomfortable. And so she laughed. She probably sounded like an idiot, but then again, so did Jemaine. If you can't beat them, join them.
"Thank you," she said warmly, after she felt she had put the appropriate amount of time and effort into laughing. "And I like to think that I'm nice, regardless of my corpus and its orientation." She tried to be her best, anyway.
She gestured to the lute. "Working on a new song?" That seemed like a good direction to steer the conversation. Music was something--something besides Bret--they had in common. And if they were going to be friends, they'd need to find as much common ground as possible.
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She followed the sound, hopping a little bit with the music. As she neared, she realized she had no idea what to say to Jemaine. She didn't really know him that well, aside from what Bret had told her about him, and that was pretty murky. Well, she supposed, there was no better way to learn about a person than just spending them with them. And if Bret considered him worthwhile, she owed it to Bret to think so as well. They were friends, after all.
Weren't they?
"Hello?" she called out.
Reply
Okay, so it wasn't totally unlikely.
"Hey Cherry," he called back with a wave. He stood, balancing the lute under his arm and regaining his footing before making his way over, still waving awkwardly and rather unnecessarily. "Didn't think I'd see you. How are you?"
Reply
"I'm good. Better. Good as new really." Okay, enough with the babble already. "How are you?"
Reply
Maybe he should become a lesbian. And get a head injury.
"Well I'm glad you're vertical," he replied, smiling further as she twirled. "Though I'm sure you're just as nice horizontal." Oh God, think before you speak, Jemaine. "Uh. I just mean -- oh. That came out wrong. I didn't, it was a compliment, really. Gnnnm." There was something truly sad about his inability to properly communicate. That and you couldn't hit on lesbians. There were rules.
Dave had outlined them once.
Reply
"Thank you," she said warmly, after she felt she had put the appropriate amount of time and effort into laughing. "And I like to think that I'm nice, regardless of my corpus and its orientation." She tried to be her best, anyway.
She gestured to the lute. "Working on a new song?" That seemed like a good direction to steer the conversation. Music was something--something besides Bret--they had in common. And if they were going to be friends, they'd need to find as much common ground as possible.
Reply
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