Music in the Park (Open)

[Bartimas (DELETED 5582)]

When the violin music finally stops, the male pauses for the first few moments of silence, then likely the enthusiastic applause that would follow. His features crease into something akin to a deep seated, warm smile, a flush of pleasure at the recognition… The attention entering him. With his cheeks just a hint reddened, he rises to his feet to step forwards to the microphone seated not far in front of him. There would come a brief pause… A moment in time which to him seemed to stretch out towards infinity… This, this was something to make one feel alive. Feel valued like he had never felt before. An outpouring of other people’s emotions… Almost felt in a tangible wave as the applause rushes over him. He waits a few moments for the sound to die down before he smiles very slowly to himself, clearing his throat.

His rich tenor voice is what comes forth next, saying gently “What is better? To know love? Or is it the unrequited emotion itself its own reward? Should we chase after that which we do not have… Pining for one who will not return? I would say not… One should let their love grow for the people whom we interact with… I would like to sing you all a song. Would you care to listen? I confess, I do not know the band’s name, or the singers…” He taps his sunglasses, gesturing to his cane as he says “It is difficult for me to keep track, with all the music I hear in scraps as I go through my day… It is a song about what you should find for the people you meet….”

If you're down and confused…
And you don't remember who you're talking to…
Concentration slips away…
Because your baby is so far away…
Well there's a rose in a fisted glove…
And the eagle flies with the dove…
And if you can't be with the one you love, honey…
Love the one you're with…
You gotta love the one you're with…
-Crosby+Stills+Nash

His clear voice rings out, aided by the cunningly positioned microphones surrounding his standing position. Each tenor note, while not as practiced as the violin he had been carrying, is clear, held carefully in pitch, in tune... His force of personality, his raw need to convey some sort of emotion in the music clear to anyone who would listen’s ears. There was something… Pleasant, to say the least about putting one’s self on display, and hearing such an outcry of enjoyment for his voice. While not a selection of music, or even the song he sings now, that would normally be shown in a place like this, he shows no hint of self-consciousness now; No… He once again is finding himself one with the music, letting the raw power of his voice echo through the room, as passionate as he can manage.

[Mordechai]

As the music drew to an end, the killer absorbed the silence that followed, then slowly began to clap. The sound of his massive hands soon drew the rest of Lancaster's into enthusiastic, appreciative applause. He slowly stopped, then waited to see what would happen next. Mordechai listened to his hostess' answers, nodding politely. He paused to consider her question. Slowly he answered as he watched the musician. "I have been well. I have started two small businesses, and have studied much on the topic of computers. I have also found one that helps to keep me grounded. She has been a boon." His place...some would say he had found it, but himself, he was not sure. He let that one slide as he considered her final questions, "Yes, he is very good. He...touches something inside with his music. A place to stay? That I do not know."

The killer's head swiveled as he took in the patrons, it seemed that most of the bar had fallen under Bartimas' spell. The games were forgotten as they listened. He had to share this. He had to share this with the one that truly was the better half of their relationship. Reaching out he gently touched the mind of his love, of his kennedy. "If you are free, please come meet with me at Lancaster's, there is one I would have you hear, and maybe meet." He could have just summoned her, but he would have had to leave the main bar, and that he could not do. He could not chance missing another song.

The silence ended not with the soothing sound of bow on string, but rather with Bartimas quietly asking the crowd a few questions. Obsidian eyes narrowed as the words sank in. Mordechai had appraised him...he was mystic, with no branched powers. Yet. Yet it seemed somehow he had read the quandary in the killer's mind. Was he that transparent, or was something else at play here. Unconsciously he stroked his side. The long nimble fingers running over the concealed hilt at his waist. Eyes now riveted on the musician, he watched as Bartimas once more opened his mouth. No probing questions this time, and the killer slowly relaxed as a rich, full voice gave life to an old anthem of the '70's. It became apparent that the questions had not been aimed, merely an introduction to the song that now filled the room. Silently he stood engrossed in the words, wondering if some sign was hidden within, some sign that would answer those haunting questions. Finally the voice overcame him and his mind settled into just absorbing the purity of the offering. He hoped his kennedy would show before the magic that was Bartimas, left.

[Pi dArtois]

Pi wasn’t surprised that Bartimas chose to stay on stage. It was the way of those who made music their lives, an undeniable pull to live their music, to share it with those around them. In a way she acknowledged it was probably this very fact that had induced her to stop and listen as she had. This man, in his way, was very much like Elliot and how he fell into his music when he was on stage. There was a certain sort of joy to be had in stopping, and listening.

Too often lives were filled with things people had to do, responsibilities, jobs and a multitude of things that demanded precious time and energy. Taking a moment just to enjoy what was happening around you somehow turned into another thing that had to be scheduled into life, wedged between those responsibilities until they weren’t relaxing at all. Elliot had taught her the value of.. quiet. Not silence, not being alone but more than that; a sense of being quiet in the mind, and centered. That is what she saw when she watched Bartimas play, a man who had found his quiet, on the stage, playing his music and sharing it. Just like Elliot did.

Her attention was diverted by Mordechai’s answer to her question and when he didn’t pose further questions of his own she made herself comfortable.

If Bartimas was anything like Elliot they could be here a while. She wondered if she could help behind the bar, but felt it would be rude to leave Mordechai to his own devices, especially since it had taken so long for them to run into one another. Years.

It was curious though, if years between ‘talks’ was something she should accustom herself to. When you lived an eternity, was a year or two really that long? Could you look at that length of time in the same way you would if you were still human? She expected not, it was more like a month, or a week relatively speaking, and while it should have felt odd to consider how time was stretched membrane thing by being so long lived, she was also grateful for it too. More time to talk to old friends she hadn’t talked to in a while. Long enough to close the time gap and reconnect.

“Elliot is the businessman of us.. I’m not sure how many he has now. A few.” She answered. “He’s sold a couple too I think.. opened Bunk.” She responded, pointing to the door beside the stage with the sign above it, the entrance to the Hostel above the pub. “We have taken to helping those who need a place to stay.” She continued, carrying on from her original question to the man. “For those who can pay and I .. have the Training Room available for those.. who can’t.”

It was the first time she’d talked about the Training Room and how they’d conceived of it over three years ago. “I think we all know of someone who has been brought over to our world and then left to fend for themselves… it’s… a chance we have .. to help those that need it. So if Bartimas needs a place.. I could offer it to him if he needs.”


Which she would do when he was done, whenever that was. They had hours yet before sunrise and the late night license the pub held was paid dearly for in order to cater to the more nocturnal of their kind.

“What do you think?”

[Kennedy]

A long yet quiet day of simple killing had taken place in the caves. Kennedy was keeping herself busy when she would run out of parts for traps. Never would she bother Mordechai with a shopping list of what she needed but would wait until asked. Kennedy knew that she was over loading his lock boxes with traps anyway since they were there for defensive needs and not really having anywhere to place them, so slowing down on making them would probably be for the better. Her hair was nearly dry from the shower she had taken to get all of the splattered blood off from the shamans and workers, she decided to get dressed for when he would come home and not be in the usual ripped up jeans and a tank top from working at the crafting table. Wiggling into her skinny jeans as if they were a second skin before slipping on her knee high boots. It was snowing outside and though she couldn't feel the cold, she had to play the part. Grabbing a sweater, she slipped it on as his voice slipped over her mind.

Moving to the door, she smirked as she would just surprise him by showing up without giving him the confirmation that she would actually be there. Pulling on her leather jacket before slinging her messenger bag over her shoulders, Lancaster's wasn't too far from their home and she could easily walk the few blocks to get there. Kennedy thought to bring Sean along but he was off doing God knows what at some bar. It might have been drag queen night but she honestly couldn't remember, she just remembered him wanting his weekly allowance in ones. Somewhere he was going to make it rain and she would leave him to get his kicks. Besides with him out of the house, it gave her and Mordie sometime to themselves which was rare as it was.

The cool breeze upon her cheek was comforting even though to some, it would send a chill down their spine. The freshly fallen snow glistened under the street lamps to look like little piles of fluffy clouds of glitter. It was all majestic while it reminded her that Christmas was right around the corner. They had been a couple for two years and she wanted to get him something special...she just didn't know what. A bike was an option but she would never want to replace Judge or make Mordechai think she didn't like it. It was going to be tough but she would think of something...she had to because even though they didn't have the traditional family or even kids...she wanted to show him that he was special to her.

As she thought on the holiday and presents to pass out, she was unaware that her destination just only a few buildings away until she arrived. Looking back behind her as she chuckled to none but herself, she shook her head as she made a mental note of having another bimbo moment but to have her head in the clouds so to speak really made time fly. Kennedy opened the door to the bar and was instantly ambushed with music so enchanting that it was as if it was music of Angels. Slowly moving into the bar so that she wouldn't disturb anyone, she watched the guy upon the stage. He was good. He was very good and it took her a moment to want to pull away long enough to find Mordechai within the crowd. Not that it was too difficult, even sitting he towered over most. He was sitting with a woman that she had never met, but she didn't have any concern as she trusted him and if he was up to anything funny then he wouldn't have asked her to stop by. Carefully she moved through the crowd and without a word, she sat next to him until the performer was finished.

[Bartimas (DELETED 5582)]

The young man could indeed be at this for a while. With each pulse of his powerful voice singing out, something about him seems all the more entrancing. His voice seemed to literally draw one in, a gentle finger under the chin, guiding one first to look at him, then to devote more and more attention to him. His voice throbs, each note that leaves his lips making the entire scene all the more drawing. If one could imagine a scurry of rats approaching the sound of pipes, one could imagine the effects easily. For the humans in the room, such an effect would be very clear upon them. He is entrancing… The beauty, the honest straining for perfection, he would draw them in, attention, or physically, to stand below the stage, the call of his voice too much for them to withstand.

For the various… others present, they likely would be able to feel the call, the tug of his voice, imitating the insistent call of the Pied Piper’s music. All the while, he doesn’t seem to realize the power of his own voice, his head tilted back, letting emotion, soul fall forwards, drifting out of his lips into the mike in steady soaring notes. Even his own mind is drawn to the music, drifting along on the pleasant haze of the notes themselves, the search for perfection, for the soaring heights the music itself could take him… It was as intoxicating a draw as the finest wine, the sweetest blood.. Or even the sweet call of his music upon other’s ears.

As the next song ends, the young man stands there, breathing, his face low to the microphone. Each soaring note, each moment of his piper’s call having filled the entire room with his own naked longing for perfection, for beauty, and he seems… Aware now, that something has happened, his frame slightly tensed as he stands there at the microphone silently for a long few moments, his fingers brushing for a moment, hesitantly towards the back surface of the device.

His mind is a whirl… What had just happened there? Even he had become lost in the music.. Something not unfamiliar to him, but… far more intense than it had been previously in his playing. His throat feels… Dry, a sort of fatigue in his throat. For a moment, he seems… struck, upon the stage there; for a split second, panicking. What had just happened? Did they like the song? What was that… beautiful entrancing note he had captured in his song? He clears his throat, one way or another turning back to put away his pair of instruments, the confusion on his features easy enough to read.

[Mordechai]

Although his ears were locked onto Bartimas, his eyes were constantly, naturally roving his surroundings. The bar had been redone exquisitely, and while not much really excited the killer, he found that he like the...coziness? of the settee around the fireplace. It offered privacy, yet still allowed a view of the happenings in the bar. The opening door caught his attention and the corners of his lips quirked, as a leather and denim clad brunette entered from the snow outside. She seemed to spot him easily enough, and his mouth finally formed a grin as his kennedy made her way to him. As she slid into the chair next to him, Mordechai instinctively moved to stand at her back, an imposing presence that both protected, and claimed. One hand lazily intertwined itself through her long curls as he listened to the male's voice eerily haunting his soul...Leaning down he brushed his lips to the top of her head, he was with the one he loved. Pi's quiet comments reached him in the lulls of the music and he nodded acknowledgement and agreement as he waited for the song to end.

The words stopped but the enchantment seemed to hold, and for a moment there was the empty silence of a tomb resonating through the room. Mordechai noticed the look of confusion on the musicians face, and wrapping his other arm around his kennedy, he reached out through the either to the male. "All is well, they are just under the enchanting spell of your voice, It was loved by all." Drifted gently into Bartimas' mind. As the normal hubbub and chatter of the pub slowly picked up the killer slipped his hand from the brunette's hair and nodded towards the brown haired killer beside him. Gently squeezing the shoulder beneath his hand, he once again graced the top of her head with a soft kiss, " Pi? this is my kennedy. She means very much to me. This is Pi, kennedy. She is among the first I met once I entered the city, after." Smiling down at the lithe dancer wrapped possessively with in his presence. He gave a small squeeze before continuing. We had often discussed training at that time, and the best ways to do it. However over the past two years we seemed to drift apart, and have not talked in a great while. We were both drawn to the extraordinary music of the the bard Bartimas." Shaking his head slowly he slipped inside kennedy's mind, "His music brings peace to me... he is amazing"

Finally he redirected his attention once more to the female killer. "It is admirable what you are attempting. I have never been in an organized attempted, but I too have helped a fair amount of fledglings to make the adjustment. Those that have had trouble adjusting, well I have also played doctor, and administered a small dosage of lead to help calm them, and protect us." Glancing once more at Bartimas, he easily lifted kennedy to her feet and settled her under his arm, before suggesting "He will head back to the fireplace, as that is where we last were, Pi. If you would be so kind as to have a round of three N/A's and one of whatever my kennedy wishes, brought over, we should head back to greet him." Mordechai palmed forty to Mz d'arTois, " Tip the girl this, start a tab for us, on this card." Pulling out his wallet he handed her a simple black card in the name of midnight armaments. Mordechai winked to Pi as he headed towards the fireplace with kennedy, "Businesses can be so lucrative."

[Pi dArtois]

Pi smiled as Mordechai introduced the woman, her smile neutral, one she’d worn many times as owner of this place, the expression polite, welcoming and just this side of curious. “Nice to meet you Kennedy.” She hadn’t known much about Mordechai when they’d first started talking and she couldn’t even remember how they’d been introduced in the beginning, probably someone who knew someone, who knew her and him had dropped an introduction; that was usually how it worked. And here they were, years later. Connection made, reconnected and sitting in a bar together watching and listening to a man playing a violin, in a business she owned. It was progress, or a form of it, both of them growing into their own, in their own way.

She had to admit though, even years later she still didn’t know too much about the man, not his history or his likes and wants. She wouldn’t have been able to tell anyone where he lived, or how long he’d been there. Mordechai had said something about businesses being lucrative but she wasn’t sure the nature of his own place of work, so shallow was their acquaintance. Nodding her agreement as he and Kennedy moved away Pi stayed behind to take care of the drinks, taking the card and ensuring the tab was created for them.

And then she waited for the drinks, quite happy to play server since she was free and she could, so she did. The bar staff loaded the tray and she lifted it taking it with her when she finally followed Mordechai to the table and chairs near the fire. Lowering the tray she took her own glass of blood, making herself comfortable in a seat facing away from the stage. Considering Mordechai’s words and the pause on stage she thought maybe Bartimas would be joining them soon, and she made a place for him, a chair, free and easy to get to.

While she waited for Bartimas to arrive she replied to what Mordechai had said prior. “It was what I used to do, before, more involved then than I am now.. but it’s good to help those newly turned, and it feels good to. So you own a business?” She asked, “What do you do?”

[Kennedy]

Kennedy continued to listen to the enchanting music that sung from the man on stage. It was rare that anything truly captivated her to the point that she would forget her surroundings. Mordechai helped keep her grounded for the most part as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. Resting her body against him as she started to hear the conversations between Mordechai and the woman, she turned and looked over at Pi with a smile to not seem rude and ignore her. Giving a soft, respectful nod in her direction, she smiled as they were introduced.

"It's very nice to meet you, Pi. I don't meet Mordie's friends often. It's a pleasure." Kennedy didn't want to talk to much and interrupt what they had already been covering. She didn't know much about running a business given she worked for Mortll. Letting her eyes drift back to the performer, she snuggled into Mordechai as she listened to him. He made her relax and it was good that Mordie had told him that the music brought him peace. Maybe there was a CD that she could purchase to play at home especially on nights that Mordechai came home all cranky for various reasons. To have such beautiful music in the house would make coming home from a long evening, absolutely enjoyable. Closing her eyes as she just let her mind drift off to the music and let ultimate relaxation set in.

Sorry for the crap post...I was trying to get it out quick since I was holding it up.

[Bartimas (DELETED 5582)]

It would take a few moments of sorting everything out, to ready the young man to move. His frame stretches slightly out, carefull loading the two cases he was carrying upon his frame. Almost like a backpack the guitar case is slid up and onto his back, before he slings the violin’s much smaller and more slender case at his hip. With him gone from the stage of course, things would soon enough return to normal and the young man allows a faint smile to drift into view. Mordechai’s voice in his head does make him start, his head turning from side to side, trying to track for the sound that wasn’t there before he sighs, carefully grasping for the handle of his cane, drawing it up in front of him, before he begins to slowly descend the stage, leaving it now.

His steps do indeed, as predicted, carry him towards the spot their initial conversation took place in; That nice set of chairs and table near a fireplace. His steps slowly have him walking, carefully approaching the chair he had had from before, although the sound of new voices settled in and around the group makes him pause. His steps slow as he approaches the table, his smile warm but almost a hint shy, nervous perhaps as he says quietly “Well… That went well…” before his smile warms noticeably, spreading into something akin to a boyish grin before he recovers a more somber tone. The sunglasses covering his eyes are adjusted by one finger, pushed back up the bridge of his nose as he makes his way to a chair, cane tapping before his steps, settling both cases down next to the chair before settling himself in it quietly.

Sorry for the delay on my end. I stopped checking the thread during the long absence. My bad

[Klara]

Klara finally had to admit that her marriage had failed. It was something painful to her and not something, she was proud of but when her husband could not answer her questions with anything but “I don’t know”, you got the message loud and clear. He was free now, free to talk to whom he wanted, free to **** whom he wanted and she no longer has a say but then so was she but there was no one she wanted but her husband. She wondered when she’d get past that and begin to heal.

Hating the silence and emptiness of her apartment, she slipped on her coat to go for a walk. “Why the hell is everyone part of a couple tonight?” she mumbled grumpily to herself. It was annoying to see those around her laugh, having fun, looking at one another with those love sick eyes. She wondered if that was how she and Simon had used to look at one another.

As she neared the park, her ears picked up the strains of music, a male voice that was almost perfect. She began to run, wanting to see who it was. It had been a while since she had heard a voice like that. Klara didn’t know why it was so important to find him but being a musician herself, she just felt she had let him know how beautiful his voice was.

As she neared the stage she saw it was now empty, tears almost stinging her eyes just wanting something to go her way she spotted some people at a table, recognizing Pi she made her way over to them noticing a man with a violin slung over his shoulder. Maybe they would know who he was.

“Hello Pi, hello” she said to the others. “I’m really sorry to interrupt but could y’all tell me who was just singing on the stage, I really need to find him.”