![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
After he'd taken leave of the room-- he can do that, how different-- he takes to wandering. Never too far from the shadows, where the pitch of his coat blends in more than with the golden of the hallways. But he is somewhere new, and coherent, and feels more substantial than he has in a long time, so after the shock had settled of course the curiosity took hold. Doors take a little bit of work, now that he's found he can interact with physical matter, but after one or two hopefully unwitnessed, embarrassing attempts he manages well enough to peek into the rooms he comes across.
That's about as much as he does, really. He's mostly just cataloging what there is to see here, but there isn't anything in specific he's looking for as he wanders. So he's content to simply do that much, at least until he comes across the music room.
Funny how such a shadowy figure can practically light up at the sight of something. Before he realizes it he's rushing in and flitting quickly over to one of the pianos. There's so much in the room they can't possibly all be that well-maintained or tuned, but none of it could be worse than whatever water damage and blunt force trauma happened upon the instruments that used to fall into the Underground, surely? The door's left open behind him, out of oversight, but he doesn't pay it any mind as he settles down on the bench.
He warms up slowly. Scales and runs to test himself first, see if his motor memory still serves. Then, when that's judged satisfactory, soft, lilting, maybe even somewhat eerie simple melodies, all atmosphere and percussive rhythm.
Eventually, he sits back. Hums a little. Eyes the other pianos in the room. Gestures, curtly, tightly, with his hands.
And more hands form out of nothing to array themselves out around him. They hover there, briefly, before floating over to the other pianos in the room, a pair each.
Then he lets his focus spread, just a bit, glancing over at the other pianos, before seguing into something a... bit more involved.
That's about as much as he does, really. He's mostly just cataloging what there is to see here, but there isn't anything in specific he's looking for as he wanders. So he's content to simply do that much, at least until he comes across the music room.
Funny how such a shadowy figure can practically light up at the sight of something. Before he realizes it he's rushing in and flitting quickly over to one of the pianos. There's so much in the room they can't possibly all be that well-maintained or tuned, but none of it could be worse than whatever water damage and blunt force trauma happened upon the instruments that used to fall into the Underground, surely? The door's left open behind him, out of oversight, but he doesn't pay it any mind as he settles down on the bench.
He warms up slowly. Scales and runs to test himself first, see if his motor memory still serves. Then, when that's judged satisfactory, soft, lilting, maybe even somewhat eerie simple melodies, all atmosphere and percussive rhythm.
Eventually, he sits back. Hums a little. Eyes the other pianos in the room. Gestures, curtly, tightly, with his hands.
And more hands form out of nothing to array themselves out around him. They hover there, briefly, before floating over to the other pianos in the room, a pair each.
Then he lets his focus spread, just a bit, glancing over at the other pianos, before seguing into something a... bit more involved.
np!
Date: 2016-12-14 08:55 am (UTC)They pop the berries into their mouth. "Just the pot--tomatoes. These're just a snack, not ingredients for anything. Not right now." Maybe they could try to figure out raspberry pie some other time.