hadriel_logs | like a vagabond through the distance [OPEN]

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like a vagabond through the distance [OPEN]

Who: Rey and You!
What: Awful harmonica playing + dealing with the aftermath of a certain visitor flavor.
When: All over the month of November.
Warnings: Rey can't play instruments for shit and I'm sorry ~~not really sorry~~ okok.
Also the second prompt will likely have some triggering themes of trauma and torture and whatever. I'll update if necessary.

I. Harmonica Song (Far As the Road Goes, I'll Go the Road)

Music is a gift. People find comfort in it during dire times. Much like the instrument itself, the breathy notes of the harmonica has a nostalgic quality to Rey's ears.

Unfortunately for everyone else within a twenty-foot vicinity of her, she is both tone-deaf and can't play for shit.

Somehow, her brother always made it look easier. Her tune doesn't sound nearly like the scenes of old movies she's seen before, with the weary prisoner playing melancholy tunes reminding him of home or the bad-ass cowboy on an epic pursuit for revenge. It sounds more akin to a wailing cat being strangled to death.

And you've got front-row seats to the worst performance you've probably ever seen before in your life. Like it or hate it (let's not kid ourselves here -- you'll hate it), the player doesn't care. She doesn't even believe that this harmonica fell out of the Door and into Firo's possession for a reason. If anything, she doesn't believe in fate, or destiny, or whatever and never has. Because it's seriously doubtful that providence would throw such a terrible instrument at Rey's feet to deliver you ~~a beautiful presentation of unrealized talent~~ torture.

Truth is, she's just bored. That's all there is to it. Patrols are boring. Sitting in bars by her lonesome is boring. Everything is boring.

If music is one of the many spices of life, then Rey's delivery is its antithesis of a flavor most foul.

But that's just like, my opinion.

II. First Spiral Neighborhood (But Now We Move a Different Way)

Despite the relief efforts of easing some stress and paranoia, Rey's occasional excursions offer no respite. When she heads home, her bearing is heavy, and she hasn't slept in some time. Not when she sees the same face every time she closes her eyes, before a flash of red and visions of blood and pain hurls her awake.

Better to be restless than being shaken up in the middle of the night in sweat and panic. Most of the time, she can't even hide that she's more dazed than usual lately. IV's presence may be gone. The lingering memories of her atrocities and the scar near Rey's own heart, however, remains.

She stops before she enters her house, slowly taking a step back. A hand comes up over her chest, the mark from the rebar mercifully hidden beneath the cloth of her shirt.

Without even realizing it, she's gone pale again. What more, she's been standing still for a while, just staring at the door to her own home. This place where she should feel safe.

Yet, at any point, she can be taken back. And the worrying reminder will never leave, no matter how comfortable she gets.

IV is gone. But like the plant, her untreated poison festers.

III. Choose Your Own Adventure (Freedom is the Way I Live)

[ooc: Have some other non-event stuff you want to do with Rey? Hit me up via any one of your preferred contact methods!]

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Far as harmonica-players go, he's, uh...he's heard better. He's played better, and he doesn't even have lips. Still, don't mean he can't appreciate it when someone tries. Sans settles down to sit on top of the roof of the building just above her to listen to the kazoo-like wheezing of someone desperately trying to play an instrument they really, honestly, truly just suck at. He can appreciate the determination to try regardless, though. For what it's worth.

When the performance is over, he claps, 'cause that's what you're meant to do after performances.

"Nice embouchure," he says, which is absurd seeing as it weren't really any kinda good embouchure at all, and he knows that because he has fantastic embouchure for a skeleton. Despite, uh, not having lips or a tongue. But eh, details.

Rey isn't the only one who's bored. Sato's been thinking on ways to solve this problem, though, and one of them involves watching the comings and goings from the City Guard HQ as part of the plan. So when Rey happens along, he's pleasantly sitting on the step of an empty building, idly playing a bit of Ms. Pac-man on his phone to pass the time.

Of course, he can hear the horrible sound a mile away, he just didn't realize it was her until she came into sight.

He waves pleasantly, not bothering to get up. "I didn't realize it was you, Rey! I thought Fear was bringing some kind of musical terror to us this week!," he calls out cheerfully as soon as she stops.

Somewhere along her bored wanderings and marching song, the last thing Rey expects is an ovation. She just stops, lowering the harmonica from her mouth to look up at the skeleton on the rooftop overhead. Then she arches a brow at his contradictory praise.

"Your hearing must be as bad as your tan," she says wryly.

That's no way to say thank you, Rey. Come on.

When Rey comes into view of Sato, she isn't even holding the harmonica in her hands. Rather, she's left the instrument in her mouth, playing off the same, horrid notes that would shock a howler monkey into cardiac arrest.

Her pace slows to a halt at the greeting many people would take offense by. Rey, however, simply picks the harmonica out before sending him a wry look, holding the instrument in hand.

"Just thought it might be worth taking initiative this time," she retorts, hardly offended by the criticism.

"You should make sure to ask him for a favour if you're going to do his job for him," Sato says, mildly amused and really only half joking. He doesn't think much of a the guy, and figures he'd probably accept it.

He still doesn't bother to get up, leaning back against the wall. Although he's missing his usual machete, he's still armed: this time with a morning star of all things hanging off his belt alongside the usual pistol, and the rifle he traded for nowhere to be seen.

Please, he's got a whole mess of experience with sunning himself in an underground cave without any sun or skin to be tanned whatsoever. It's all about the sight gag.

"Eh. I've heard worse." That ain't even a lie, honestly. He's heard plenty worse. Lots of monsters Underground, they got plenty of enthusiasm but not necessarily a sense of skill to match it. That's all he's sayin'.

"That's unfortunate. It must have been pretty bad."

Self-flagellation. At least it's clear that she isn't taking herself too seriously here.

"Sounds like that'd go just about as well as his idea of scary stories."

Which isn't to say it'd go over at all, period.

As they're talking, she does take notice of Sato's current arsenal. Rey isn't packing much heat herself, given that that applies to her own abilities and patrols tend to be pretty non-eventful, anyway. Hence the harmonica to pass the time. Though now she does wonder what Sato is doing in this area by himself, with seemingly no apparent reason.

"For a god of Fear, it doesn't seem like anyone thinks he's very suited for it," he says agreeably. He certainly doesn't, and Sato is well aware that his own opinion doesn't always match everyone else's, the network responses he's seen seemed pretty clear on that front.

"Different people have different ideas of what fear is. The problem he has is that most of us aren't normal people and have dealt with worse shit than walking corpses."

But she's not just saying. She's just saying. And it isn't like Rey is going to say what her own idea of fear is, either.

Sans grins as he stands, and in the blink of an eye is at ground-level a few feet away so he can amble on over, hands jammed amiably in pockets.

"It's hard to play harmonica without lips." He taps at his teeth with a phalanx. "Or a tongue. Or, uh, any of those conventional requirements for harmonica-playing."

"That could be. The harmonica is definitely worse," he agrees, tilting his head very slightly to glance down the street again. Still nobody else except for Rey. "I'm sure you'll get better in time, Rey. But you may want to think about practicing indoors for a while first."

He might not be the most musically-inclined person in the world, but he enjoys a good tune now and then, and Rey's offense on the ears is something he can do without -- and he's reasonably sure he's not alone on that one point.

Diego tries very hard to just ignore the grating sounds floating in his apartment from outside. The problem is that with sensitive hearing, there's really only so much ignoring that he can attempt before he can't take it any longer. Diego tosses aside the pillow he was pressing to his ear in an attempt to drown out the sound, gets up, and leaves his apartment to march outside. Unfortunately, that means he needs to get closer and thus the sound gets louder, but he needs his peace and quiet.

He stops in front of her, arms folded in front of his chest, and glares.

"Get lost."

Wowie! That's the worst sound Asriel has ever heard!

He actually came hurrying over because it sort of sounded like maybe someone had stepped on a Woshua and it was hollering in agony. When he stumbles onto the scene, however, it's not a monster wailing and shrieking. It's just... a human? With a harmonica?

(A humanica?)

Oh. Well, at least nobody's dying! Asriel bites his lip and tries not to look too much like he was rushing to the site of a disaster or anything. Just... passing through, not mistaking any creative endeavours for torture! Ha ha! As you do!

"Gosh," he offers, looking for something nice to say, "you sure are trying hard!"

[ She's told that the wildlife around these parts is dangerous. Monster like. Of course, when you live in the Commonwealth, it's something you get used to. Diamond City is one of the safest, largest Settlements there is but she's Seen Some Shit on her travels, in her work.

And by what she's hearing, she's ran into some trouble. In her first week, exploring the city. It'd have to happen, this was Piper - after all.

No, wait. Not a monster. She relaxes a little. But only a little because that is awful. She doesn't even care that the musician is right in front of her. ]

... if I ever wondered what a deathclaw trying to play an instrument sounded like I have a pretty good idea of it now.

It is a bit unexpected when Sans just blinks from one place to the next. That must be the 'unconventional' means of escape he had in mind, back when dead people roamed the streets.

A convenient trick to have up your sleeve.

"Wasn't sure how that logic applies where you're from. Back home, someone like you shouldn't even be able to exist."

Not that it's a bad thing, or that she means to insult him. But magic and talking skeletons just doesn't happen, though Rey has seen some shit in her days.

See, Sato? People here have such unconventional fears if harmonicas trump zombies.

(But no, really, grating instruments are the worst.)

"Not fixing to get better. Just wanted to change things up a bit. Break the routine." Because boredom is the devil. Fuck that.

Eh. He just happens to know a shortcut or two. It's no biggie, really. One supraorbital ridge coasts idly upwards at the commentary, and he keeps grinning as he stuffs his hands back into his jacket pockets.

"Wow," Sans drawls, amused, "tell me what you really think."

Look, no hands! Or fucks! Rey isn't even holding the harmonica, but just left the instrument in her mouth. So when her pace comes to a quick halt in front of the stranger, she huffs, and a grating tune follows.

Her arms cross, almost mimicking his posture as she doesn't move.

It's like she's waiting or something. Hard to tell, with her blank expression.

"Not really," Rey admits.

For the time being, she's decided to take a break from walking, sitting on one of the crates by one of the various unrestored structures in the city. Mostly she has been playing random tunes every now and then to pass the time, since it isn't as if she's out of breath from her patrol/wandering.

Eh. Le shrug.

[For the most part, Rey has been disregarding the passing commentaries of critics everywhere. She isn't looking for anyone's approval or anything, and it's actually a little entertaining to see the occasional dramatic response.

[It isn't what Piper says that gets her to stop, however. Not exactly. She would have loved to continue her all out assault on the musically inclined, but something she says catches Rey's interest fast.]

Wait, you actually know what those things are called? Big horned bastards that're more inclined to make minced meat out of you?

[Nope, she isn't going to even address the criticism towards her musical talent. Uh, "talent", more like it.]

"I'll remember that for later," Sato says, as cheerful as ever. "We should do something again soon. Maybe another trip to that foggy part of town, and this time I'll bring the rifle. I'd like to see what else it can come up with for round two."

Rey shrugs.

"Just saying."

To her it's logical, anyway. She just scoffs and pockets the harmonica for the time being, not particularly keen on playing anymore now that an 'audience' has acknowledged her terrible performance.

The fact that he considers stepping into a hellscape a 'trip' should be horrifying, but... Rey isn't surprised at all anymore. She just gives Sato that usual, expressionless look.

"Well. Left the guns at home, and doubt that a terrible rendition of Death Rattle would send even those freaks there to turn tail and run."

Who knows. Her harmonica skills are pretty bad enough.

"Where'd you score that piece, anyway?" Even if her playing is kind of, uh, terrible, it pays to know that the gods are capable of generating such things. Or at least imitating the real thing to the point where there's no real difference.

"I been askin' Delight about makin' me a trombone."

'Course, he sells the pun with a hearty wink, but that don't mean he's joking. The opposite, in fact. He's genuinely trying to get a trombone through sheer strength of bad puns.

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like a vagabond through the distance [OPEN]

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