Threads of Interest•General Rules••Plot• •Face Claims• •Unanswered RP Threads• •Character List & Fact Sheet• |
Recent News |
Affiliates!
|
|
18 Members ~ 65 Characters
12 Vampires, 8 Fae, 8 Wolves, 5 Lions, 3 Leopards, 3 Foxes, 2 Jaguars, 1 Hyenas, 2 Cobras, 2 Tigers, 4 Rats, 1 Swan, 5 Cougars, 5 Humans, 0 Human Servants, 4 Other |
| The Weary Musician; Grey/Open | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Feb 17 2009, 03:15 PM (137 Views) | |
| Marguerite | Feb 17 2009, 03:15 PM Post #1 |
|
The sound of glass shifting in a glass stirred her from her own deep thoughts. Pulling her back from the edge of her mind that was constantly filled with darkness lately. She had been sitting for the past half hour at the bar, with one side of her face pressed against it. Soft greys, stared without seeing the drink that had been set beside her, undisturbed. Now, the ice was almost completely melted, and a large puddle of condensation had pooled around the bottom. Her index finger jabbed at the water, drawing her finger away quickly to make a trail of water across the bar. Eyes widened suddenly, watching the trail of water slowly dry. Once again her finger jabbed at the water, only this time when her fingertip was dragged along the bar's surface, it had a purpose. She was writing, or drawing, or just making a mess. She had been making the Legless Frog, her home away from home, playing there at least once a week when she could. Tonight, however had been the first time that she invited someone else to perform with her. Someone to sing the words she could only write down on paper. It had been well recieved, and she should have been happy, and yet all she could muster was the occasional sigh. It should have been her to sing them, but she hadn't found her voice yet, not in all these years and now she wondered if she ever would. She continued to run her wet finger along the bar, making swirls and hearts as it went. On the stool beside her, sat her violin case, covered in fading stickers and magic marker. Had anyone even payed attention to the violin singing tonight? Lifting her head from the bar, the thick makeup that made her look like a doll, had smudged leaving only the smallest of prints on the surface itself. Reaching into the front of her bodice, she pulled from her cleavage a frilly hankie to wipe the bar off, before mopping up the water that had gathered under glass. She felt bad for having someone go through the trouble of making her drink that she hadn't even tried. With a frown, clearly written upon painted lips she realized it was too late to drink it now. Knuckles knocked against the bar to get the bartender's attention again, maybe the next one she would drink. Her mind seemed riddled with doubt tonight, an usual feeling just after performing. It prompted her to sigh once more, shoving the violin's case with her hand. Her own frustrations were poured into that push, it was no surprise really when the case fell off the stool and hit the floor. As if I fire had been lit under bloomer clad backside, she leapt out of her seat to check the violin. When it she was satisfied it was fine, her lace gloved hand moved to her chest, in a sign of relief. Maybe it was time for that drink now. Setting the instrument back to the nearby stool, she pulled herself back on the one she had occupied previously. Once upon a time, she had owned many, and now she had barely a handful left that hadn't been sold to keep her afloat financially all these years. Once again her knuckles hit the bar, hoping to catch bartender's attention. |
 ~*~ I demand you put my heart back in my hand~*~ | |
 |
 
|
| Deleted User | Feb 18 2009, 08:16 AM Post #2 |
|
Deleted User
|
Grey was just giving the bar one last glance before heading upstairs to finish the orders for the next month when he noticed Marguerite sitting on a stool with her head resting on the bar lost in thought. Seemingly coming back to herself she'd started doodling on the bar with the condensation from her untouched glass. The woman had been coming in here fairly often playing at least once a week, the regulars seemed to enjoy it and why not she had talent as far as his untrained ears could tell. He'd heard her performance it had been as close to perfect as he could see it being especially with the new vocalist performing live with her for the first time here yet she looked like someone had shot her dog right in front of her. Watching her knock on the bar trying to grab the bar tenders attention who wasn't seeming to listen to the woman he knew didn't or couldn't speak. Shaking his head he pushed the first of the doors to his realm closed and turned back heading over to the woman noting the drink she had in front of her as she leaped off the stool to recover the violin case she'd pushed off the stool. Paperwork could wait it wasn't like it would make the order arrive any sooner and he hated doing it anyway. Quickly mixing up a new one for her he put it in front of her. He used what little sign language he knew to say hello and thank her for her performance before speaking aloud in French. “You okay there? You played well tonight but you don't seem too happy about it. Isn't part of being a music star the blow out parties and being swarmed by paparazzi after the gig?” His head tilted regarding her grabbing a pen and pad from under the bar and placing them in front of her in case she did want to reply. He was learning sign language, he could see it could be a very useful skill to have especially with the way times were heading, but he was still a long way away from being fluent in it. If she didn't feel like talking that was fair enough but to be honest there were very few situations he'd ever seen that were helped by bearing the full load of problems life or others had thrown at you to yourself. He may have originally got into the bar keeping gig just to launder money and gather information but he'd always kept an eye out for those people who looked like they needed a hand or someone to talk to and that hadn't changed just because he tended to see more of them at work now. |
|
|
|
| Marguerite | Feb 18 2009, 10:41 AM Post #3 |
|
While she waited, her hands had drifted back toward the zebra printed instrument, lifting it from the worn padding inside. Taking up the bow in her other hand, she quickly sent it over the strings, letting the violin sing for a moment. Just enough to feel better that it still played. When her drink had been switched out, the violin was returned to the case, which she shut with perhaps the first smile since the set had finished. Blowing a strand of cotton candy hair from her eyes, fingers quickly followed after forcing it back behind an ear. Her lithe frame twisted back around to face the bar, inky hues first fixed on Grey, and then on the other bartender for a moment. An index finger quickly shot in the direction of the fresh glass, before sweeping over to point at no particular place on Grey himself. She even included that subtle tilt of her head in question. Even before he would confirm her suspicions if he had in fact been the one to refill it, she was already moving her hands in front of her. A simple gesture, to say 'thank you.' She had always made it a point to talk with Grey when she came in, and he was not busy. Mostly, casual greetings, or goodbyes, or quick 'buisness' talk that was needed. Never taking up more of his time than was needed, or hers. Even though she had been calling this place her home for awhile now, she was no closer to really knowing anything more about him than the first night she played here. He seemed a quick study, an intelligent man. Once a long time ago, she would never have been seen in a bar, much less speaking with someone like Grey, labeling him without even knowing him as beneath her. That was a very long time ago, and now she often felt so far beneath those around her. He was using more sign language than the last time she had come, and he hadn't made any mistakes. It irritated her for a moment, yet her painted lips parted in a silent gasp, before her small hands clapped. So what, he was a fast learner..no big deal. “You okay there? You played well tonight but you don't seem too happy about it. Isn't part of being a music star the blow out parties and being swarmed by paparazzi after the gig?” It could have almost been considered disturbing to watch as her body went through the motions of laughter, without the sound. Only the gentle sound of air being sucked into her body and blown back out was audible. It was like a subtle weeze, that you wouldn't normally hear. Out of habit, her hands had already begun 'speaking' for her, only to pause after a moment to offer an apology. He had been a step ahead of her, which she appreciated and quickly pulled the pad closer to her side of the bar. With a quick sweep of her hand, she had the pen in her hands, twisting it in front of her eyes a moment. She liked this pen, already deciding to take it home with her tonight, she began to write. If that's the case, I think I'll pass on being a star. She pushed the pad over to his side of the bar only long enough for a quick glance at what she might have written before she quickly pulled it back. Her left hand dragged across the freshly scribbled ink smearing the words a little. You are better at signing now.  At first she had begun to write, what was bothering her, and had scribbled over it making it harder to read. Easily frustrated, she found herself unsure how to write her current feelings properly without it all 'sound' selfish. After drawing the smiley face, she paused staring down at the pad of paper before glancing back to Grey. She held up a finger, to let him know to 'hold on' and she began to write again. It feels Finally, she pushed the pad of paper back to his side of the bar, dropping the pen for a moment. Fingers coiled around her glass, bringing it to her lips. Taking a few small sips, her eyes moved around the bar, catching the occasional glance her way. It never bothered her, she was the one after all, that made herself up the way she was on purpose. Setting the glass back down to the bar, she tapped at it with her finger, and smiled. She seemed pleased with it. |
|
~*~ I demand you put my heart back in my hand~*~ | |
|
|
|
| Deleted User | Mar 4 2009, 10:17 AM Post #4 |
|
Deleted User
|
Grey listened as the woman tested the zebra print violin for any sign of damage from its fall. It sounded okay to him, not that he'd really notice anything short of it being massively out of tune enough for it to sound like someone strangling a cat. Nodding at the simple question she gestured to him he smiled. “You didn't seem to be having too much luck with Charlie over there and chatting to you definitely beats the paperwork I have waiting for me upstairs.” It took a second to realise the soft weazing noise was Marguerite laughing causing his smile to widen slightly. He watched her hands begin to sign out a reply managing to pick out the odd word before she paused to apologise. He shook his head, it wasn't her fault, it was probably ass instinctive to her as speaking out loud was to most others. He chuckled reading what she had written before she recovered it writing more. “Yeah can understand that feeling. Maybe I'm just an old man already but don't think much of that whole lifestyle. Were it anyone else it would be stalking or harassment but as they are the press and the person is famous it's accepted. Beside it seems our kind is gonna have enough people staring over our shoulders weighing our actions without throwing being famous into the mix.” Her hand started writing something before hesitating and scribbling a bit out. She drew a smiley face before pondering and gesturing for him to wait one. Fair enough he could wit and it wasn't often easy to talk about what troubled you ... at least not without alcohol loosening the tongue. At least speaking you spoke and it was out there before you could really start second guessing the wording. Finally he started writing again, pushed the pad over to him before dropping the pen and taking a sip of her drink She seemed happy with it tapping it with her finger. It did kind of make sense to him what she had put, although he was curious as to what word he was originally going to use. Most song writer wrote music about what they knew and felt. For that to come out in someone else's voice was bound to odd especially if you never had the chance to do it your self. He knew he had improved, being able to get by on most simpler things, but it still wasn't really enough to have full conversations using it really. Still you had to have something to aim for and these kind of things did take time. “Thanks. I've been practising with a couple of our deaf regulars and at the very least they've stopped wincing constantly as I try take their orders. Languages are kind of one my hobbies when this place lets me have time for them anyway.” Pausing for a moment he considered what he was about to say and how to phrase it before speaking out loud. “As for tonight feeling odd no reason why it shouldn't really. Your songs, I assume, are your own words on your own ideas, feelings and dreams. Those in someone else's voice coming out of someone else's mouth? Why wouldn't it sound feel weird to you? I take it tonight was one of the first times you had done it this way? Everyone seemed to like it I didn't have to start busting heads or anything. I suppose the question you have to ask is do you like how it sounds and feels or not. You're the only person it's got to please. It's your music. If people like it great. If not well so long as you enjoy it or like it surely it doesn't matter.” {{OOC: Sorry it's been so long things have been kinda weird over here and my writings been suffering due to it. |
|
|
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · The Legless Frog · Next Topic » |
12:31 AM Nov 29
