(Untitled)

[makeafairfight]

People say the time will fly by. They say you'll settle in, get used to the place, come to like it. It's not so bad, that comes up a lot. Eventually, it gets to be like home.

The weeks between Cameron's arrival and his birthday crawlHe's a young man accustomed to long, full days, crammed with classes, practices, schoolwork, the occasional party.

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[lt_blade]

Sonya was taking a break from studying the baby books, instead reading a novel on the couch in the rec room. She had been listening to some classic jazz on her ipod, but when she saw someone sit down at the piano, she kept an ear open out of curiousity.

The song he played was pretty, even she could pick up on that regardless of the rough spot. Sonya may've been into classical rock and heavy metal, but she had an appreciation for softer sorts of music-it was one of the reasons she enjoyed jaz.

It took her a moment to realize that she may've been enjoying the music too much, as her vision turned glassy and she realized she was crying.

Damn hormones, she thought as she quickly rubbed them from her eyes.

It was then that the jukebox decided to turn on, and she found herself sharing the player's sentiment: not for the message itself, but it was a far cry from what he was playing.

[makeafairfight]

Just because he complained didn't mean the jukebox would stop any time soon, Cameron knew, and chances were good that, once it finished with this song, it would move on to something yet more annoying. He didn't like to cede to inanimate objects, but really, there was just no point in trying to fight it.

He was prepared to leave the room, on his feet and everything, when he spotted the woman on the couch. "Are you alright, ma'am?"

ooc: slowtime

[lt_blade]

His voice was coming in her direction, and as there were no other women sitting on the couch with her: Sonya couldn't help but inwardly scold herself. This wasn't the first time pregnancy hormones got the best of her, but she was usually better at leaving the room before anyone noticed.

"I'm fine." She looked up at him, trying to sound somewhat good natured. "/just developed the ability to cry for no good reason-tends to catch me off guard."

It was sort of true-at the very least it was least embarressing.

[makeafairfight]

"I'm sorry," Cameron said, as earnest as it was automatic. He wasn't sure if the proper thing to do was to give her space to deal with it on her own or not. He was a stranger, after all, but sometimes it was easier to turn to a stranger than one's friends. "Is there... anything I can do?"

[notverywise]

It's really the piano that Jenny notices first. Faint as the sound is when it carries to the hallway, things have quieted down enough that she picks up on it just before she reaches the rec room anyway, the piece beautiful, lilting, familiar even if she knows she wouldn't be able to put a name to it. What makes her stop, though, lingering in the doorway without wanting to draw attention to herself, is who she realizes is doing the playing. She knew Cameron played, remembers his having mentioned it, but seeing him do so - it's something else entirely, something she can't look away from and certainly doesn't want to interrupt

[makeafairfight]

Cameron looks up at her and smiles, a little worn but still wholly genuine. "You don't know 'It's My Party,'" he says. "How can you not know 'It's My Party'? Not that I particularly like it, but..." It's a classic, really, is what he means, though he's not entirely sure why. Nostalgia, probably. These things mostly are. But she's young and, sophisticated though she may be, that means she may well have missed out on this song altogether. For him, it's familiar because it's the kind of thing he's heard his mother listening to at times, mostly when he was younger or on long summer nights. Maybe Jenny never had that. "I think it's doing it on purpose."

[notverywise]

"I've never heard it before," Jenny replies, still grinning as she shakes her head. That's nothing unusual. She hasn't heard nearly all the songs that have come from the jukebox when she's around, with the odd exception that seems to be specifically directed at her (songs she associates with times or places or people). The way she sees it, they're all just from after her time; it just doesn't occur to her to say so, especially not with what he says after, a comment far more worth paying attention to. "Why would it be playing it? Is it for you?"

[makeafairfight]

Cameron's mouth twists and he slides down the bench, nodding to the space next to him - for her, if she wants it. He should just get up and leave the room, but it seems too much like letting himself be defeated by an absurd piece of machinery, which would be frustrating enough on its own without doing so in front of someone he knows. "Might be," he admits. He knows it does things like this, but it's still a bizarre idea, and not one he likes to think about. "It's... kind of my birthday."

[un_gloved]

The last thing on the planet- the almost entirely blue, only sporting a single tiny landmass planet- Rogue wanted was a remind of her impending birthday. She stopped short in the doorway to the rec room as the song came on and made a face. Stupid damn thing. She was considering giving it a nice, hearty kick when she spotted the handsome young blond man who looked about as amused as she did. Angling an eyebrow at him, she sauntered past the jukebox to retrieve a pool cue from the wall.

"That playin' for you, sugar?"

[makeafairfight]

Cameron smiled in spite of himself, if only because he couldn't remember ever having been called 'sugar' before. "I think it might be," he said, closing the piano carefully as he looked at the newcomer. She had hair more like something out of a Saturday morning cartoon than anything he'd seen in real life, but it suited her somehow. "Still can't really get used to the idea of it singling us out like that."

[un_gloved]

"So you're new," she said, absently turning the cue in her hand, one neat circular arc, before she lightly whacked the side of the jukebox with it.

"Quit," she told it. She continued over to the pool table.

"After a while it sorta eases up. Reckon you build up a tolerance to it 'n it loses interest." Rogue paused in the middle of racking up and lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Happy Birthday?" she guessed.

[makeafairfight]

"In one," he replied, smiling wryly. "I shouldn't let it get to me." If what she said was true, that was the fastest way to shut the damn thing up anyway - if not now, then in the future he didn't want to consider spending here. "But uh, yeah, I've been here about a month and a half now. I guess you've been here considerably longer than that." Everyone seemed to do so well here, and for once, he really wasn't sure how.

[provincialbelle]

Belle ignored the jukebox playing such a discordant tune, preferring to listen to the beautiful sounds of the piano. She'd never learned, but she had always remained jealous of those who had. It seemed like such a luxury that no one in her little village could afford and made her regard those who could play with a degree of awe. "Your music was far nicer," she insisted with a smile of commiseration. "It's being such a menace."

[makeafairfight]

"I get the impression it often is," Cameron said, smiling back in turn. "I'll survive. And thank you. Do you play?" He would, he knew, never be truly good at it, if only because he didn't practice anymore the way he used to when he was younger. His attention had turned to rowing crew and, once his focus shifted, it was absolute. With that no longer an option, it felt good to get back to an old hobby.

[provincialbelle]

"No, oh no," Belle hurriedly replied, shaking her head and trying not to look too much out of her element. "I'd never even seen a piano until the castle, then here. It's something that I've always heard about, but never had the opportunity to play. I sing, though."

[makeafairfight]

"The castle," Cameron echoed, brow raising slightly. He shook his head and smiled. "Sounds like you had plenty of excitement even before this. I'm Cameron, by the way. Cameron Winklevoss." She seemed artlessly sweet, a trait his life could have used more of back home.

[inmiracles]

Drawn toward the music from where she previously stood in the hall, Anabelle balances in the doorway before the rec room, helpless but to sway in time with each coming note. In her short time about, she has found that the island life is one of simple pleasures, and she can't think of anything more effortless than spontaneously losing herself in a beautiful rhythm. Peripherally, she is aware of the fact that she is not alone, that there could be any number of eyes on her, but gone are the days when emitting grace and charisma were her foremost concerns. If she wants to dance around making a fool of herself, she is going to dance around and make a fool of herself

[makeafairfight]

There's an easy beauty to the girl that makes Cameron smile in spite of himself - something about her unassuming confidence. It feels familiar, and that makes it welcome. He didn't mean to tell anyone today, but she asks and he has no reason to lie. "It is," he says, nodding once. "As that thing seems intent on reminding me." He has to wonder what she'll do with the information.