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 Posted: Thu Jan 22, 2009 6:55 pm
For some reason, Vashan's body had been tense. He realized that just as he relaxed once seeing Lai's eagerness to play for him, as if he had made a proper move in chess and saved his kind from checkmate- at least, for one more turn. He studied the way the Russian handled the bow and was stunned by the ease in which he moved with it. Subconsciously, he moved his own fingers to imitate the action, imagining the same instrument mirrored in his own hands.
As he heard the name of the piece, his eyes lit up in recognition. It was rather famous, if he could remember correctly, and he was delighted to see that it was still recognized, from whatever time Lai came from. He had the distant urge to make a comment, but suppressed it.
As it turned out, he was completely at a loss for words once the man started playing. Like caressing the very base of life and the Earth itself, he drew out the notes where they needed to sing and cut them short when they needed to be silenced. The sound of the instrument was at once dazzling and haunting, and he felt his legs tingle with the adrenaline the piece had once given him when he first heard it many years ago.
Vashan had always had a weakness for music. But when it was played with such talent, such perfection he could only gape and try to contain himself in the feeling of being swallowed up by the gentlest folds of something- Love? Life? Or, ironically enough, time?
As the piece drew to a close, he balled his hands into fists, feeling his head grow light with amazement. He shook his head as the man made the modest comment, looking a little pink in the face as if he was utterly oblivious to the magic he had just created.
"That was..." he started, trailing off. His voice sounded rough and ugly after what he had just heard. He swallowed and continued, "That was absolutely stunning! How... how long have you been playing?"
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Posted: Thu Jan 22, 2009 7:13 pm
Lai was pleasantly surprised at the compliment the Jamaican man gave him about the piece he had just played. His cheeks grew a couple shades darker and he smiled in an embarrassed, yet flattered, way. At the question he paused, trying to remember when exactly he had first started. Given his age, twenty-two, he counted back before replying. As he did he rested the bow on his lap.
"I started when I was six. I am twenty-two now, so I have been playing for the better portion of sixteen years." His smile turned sheepish. "But had it not been for my aunt, I would probably be playing piano instead right about now."
He was sure the man before him did not want to hear about how his aunt had gotten him to play cello instead, so he did not bother retelling the story. Lai did not want to bore his guest as he sat before him. Instead, Lai decided to change the topic over to something more lighthearted. Maybe Vashan himself played something. If he did that would be one more musician amongst the LOTUS members, Lai recalled himself, the priest Asmadai, and the Irishman Shane so far as them. Oh, and of course Einar with his seraph voice when he sang, though the Norwegian had said he did not sing very often.
Pity...His voice is very beautiful. Stage worthy in my opinion.
"So tell me comrade, do you play any instruments, sing, or have some such talent?" Lai was interested, it wasn't everyday he encountered someone new. Vashan was from a far-off place as well, maybe even a different time, so he might have some proficiency in an instrument Lai had never heard of before.
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Posted: Tue Jan 27, 2009 2:00 pm
Sixteen years.
It made sense to him that such a long period of hard work could yield such a brilliant sound, yet it still blew his mind. Sixteen years of constant playing, drilling, familiarizing. This man had loved the notes, the sound so much so as to bring the large elegant instrument with him from his place and time, away from battlefields or mild times of peace, away from friends and lovers and its own maker.
Vashan's only aunt hadn't visited him much as he was growing up for whatever reason, so he couldn't relate much to what the Russian was saying. Though he felt a small prickle of interest in behind his lungs, he also felt the slithering claw of jealousy wrapped around his heart- jealousy that this man could create such a living, breathing sound.
Lai seemed to be thinking something over, as his face had softed a little, and the room grew a little quieter for a small moment. Vashan took that moment to glance outside in between the colorful drapes, catching blinding hints of a snowscape from their high perch in the mountains. He was glad for the question that averted his eyes, and so answered quickly,
"No, I don't," he clipped briskly, trying to leave it at that. Still, Lai looked genuinely interested so he added a bit more to be polite, "I didn't have the time when I was a child."
And that was partially true, he hadn't, but that was also because his mother had been busy with her important job. By the time she was older and considerably wiser -wise enough to notice their family falling apart- a small wall had already built itself between them and he wouldn't have asked her even if she retired. When he moved out, it was short, concise, and she said not a word, knowing he wouldn't have the money to learn the kind of music he wanted to play.
Of course, if she had known him a little bit better, she would have known that it just wasn't his nature to go grab something that might cause himself to fall, speak to someone, try something.
But she hadn't. And nothing would ever change that.
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2009 9:22 pm
The curtness of Vashan's reply made Lai think he touched on something he shouldn't delve into, so he was about to swing the conversation into a different direction when his guest added more to his reply. Lai nodded, knowing the exact feeling about not having time in his youth. Though he did not know Vashan's background or reason, and that theirs could be vastly different, he still felt a relatable connection to the man.
"I understand what you mean comrade, I had a similar way of life when I was a child." He smiled, though it was a touch grim on his part. "What I mean is, my parents were of high society. My father was a politician and as such he strove to have a perfect image. Even if that image came with things he did not want." The Russian man was referring to himself on that last sentence, his father making it known he did not have a heart or tolerance for children, especially one that was born of him and his wife. He cleared his throat and continued.
"So in order to achieve that image, everyone in the household was pushed to be the best of what was required of them or what they were. Servants made to be top notch at their tasks, chefs very professional in their ways of cooking and preparation...You see the trend. As the only child of my father and mother I was pretty much locked inside the house all day with tutors of various subjects and tasks..." He trailed off as he blinked, gazing at Vashan with a look of apology on his face once he saw the man before his blue-gray eyes. "Pardon my rambling, I should not have gone off on an explanation without prompting from my guest. Erm..." His face colored red in the cheeks, embarrassed that he had started to talk so much. Now he was definitely stuck with no way to dig himself out and find a better route to a different subject. Usually he tried not to talk about his family in Moscow, the memories too bitter (at least the ones he could remember anyway) and sullen when he brought them up. Already he was feeling a pinching around his ribs as he brought up his father. How he despised that man, even if he had never been in anything but extremely brief contact with him at times very few and far between.
Lai cleared his throat again before standing and putting his cello back properly into its stand. His bow nearly toppled from his legs, but he caught it before it could fall to the floor. He looked past Vashan at the bureau, his reflection staring right back at him before the thought clicks. He does have food (pastries, bread, that sort of food) on the bureau from his aunt, and he wouldn't be a gracious host unless he asked if his guest wanted something to eat.
"Are you hungry comrade? I have some Russian pastries and bread if you are feeling peckish."
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