|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun Jun 29, 2014 10:28 pm
Faust acknowledged her question and offered an affirmative answer with a nod of his head, in known company of a feline grunt. He knew no reason to promote secrecy over networking, not with soldiers of a war. Safeguarding identity had its place among the populace, but not with other senshi - certainly not when he verified their status himself.
"I could sink of a few songs, but none of zem are in English..." And Alois cringed at the thought of some butchered, Americanized german in tandem to a quality melody. "It will do. Most of ze piano songs I know are instrumental, or adaptations to piano. It's... Difficult to find a song composed entirely of piano and voice. It is easy enough to, say, transcribe all of Die Welt Steht Still into piano, and while I find it great fun to play, it offers very little... Showcase of vocal prowess. You're looking for piano as a background noise razzer zan a focal point. Even if you look at Violetta from ze same album, it offers more personality and tonal range, but emulating ze guitar rifts on piano sounds like absolute s**t. It becomes terribly obvious zat one is substituting piano for guitar."
He paused momentarily. "Mm! Nie Mehr from Veljanov may offer enough vocal showcasing to fit your needs, but a he is an opera singer... It's difficult to match ze strengs' of his singing. Additionally ze music would transcribe strangely..." Suddenly a chuckle overcame him, a grin spread crooked across his features while he shook his head. "Now you'f got me stuck on a tangent. Soon enough I'll be sifting srough audio files and pulling samples." The thought of Orah's soft voice replicating Nie Mehr octaves higher teased enough of a laugh out of him.
"If nossing else... zey are less cheery songs. But zose are often suited to more powerful singers. Ze only song I know of written wis' strictly piano and vocals, entirely in English, may be too depressing for you." And I'd fall asleep halfway through it.
While he played, her voice came in as expected. It sounded shy, soft, though unwavering - much like her. She chose to surround herself with familiarity rather than seek out change... And that same philosophy reflected throughout her life. The flower girl, the live at home girl, the daddy's girl, the lost girl. Familiarity stood too great a comfort for her to depart from its embrace. It's a shame your inability to change irritates me too greatly to enjoy a song. Even the lyrics show stubbornness - this favoritism toward the unbending rock over the supple branch. Listen to me - I'm starting to sound like Quenton.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jul 02, 2014 8:08 am
Orah couldn't help the smile that drifted over her face as he talked about something he obviously knew a lot about... Something, even, that he cared about. It was a welcome difference from some other conversations they had had.
"I've done German before, but you'd probably laugh at my garbled accent." She said as she stood behind his chair, catching herself when she unconsciously went to lean against him. "I also wouldn't mind if you did run off and got lost in song selection... I'm not attached to this one. I had a really hard time choosing and this one is only lukewarm to me. That, and it would probably be fun to watch."
What sort of a song would he chose for her? Something about death, no doubt... Hopelessness. It would fit her personality about as well as dressing in his fashions... but she half wondered what she'd look like in all black. Would he find it attractive? She knew he found something appealing about her, but what if she were really more to his tastes? Her mind skittered away from the thought.
"I can project when I need to, but opera might be a bit beyond my level..." She said as her mind drifted, as did her eyes, to watch his head move as he stroked the keys. He was so intent... And an idea seized her, refusing to let go. Orah's smile took on its own impish quality, safely out of his view. How might he react to such teasing? It was worth it to see.
The young woman hummed softly along with the song as she lifted one tan hand and extended a forefinger, reaching towards the man at they keyboard. Her touch, as always, was delicate, but now she gentled it further, a wisp of contact as she ran the edge of her nail up under his hairline and so very slowly down the ridge of vertebrae along the back of his neck. She traced the bumps of them with a touch so light she had to still her breathing, and her voice, to accomplish it.
Matthew hated this game... He was ticklish and the sensation always set him to goosebumps. Was Alois, so adverse to touching, secretly ticklish as well?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2014 5:53 pm
Alois registered the touch immediately, almost intimate in its qualities, as it drifted from the base of his neck. His playing slowed in recognition, notes always precise yet dropped to a lengthier time signature. it raised prominent goosebumps along his arms, his shoulders, and his posture shifted in a manner to wordlessly guide her finger southward over the mountains and valleys of vertebrae. "Are you here to practice, or are you here to ********? You're sending mixed signals." Already his eyes were half-lidded. Sighing, he closed them entirely.
Finally he forsook playing to half-turn toward her, one leg propped up just next to him on the chair to afford his knee as a chin rest. Lacing his fingers together around his ankle, he looked toward her quizzically. "So you're interested in changing your tune, zen? Perhaps... Ze best song I can sink of zat is effectively only done wis' piano as a backdrop, and one fitted to your voice, is Du Lügst so Schön. Ze actual piano accompaniment is heinously simple, one I can execute in my sleep if I had to. Ze vocals proof' more challenging as it's written in a language you'f never spoken extensively or understand. But... If you're willing to try it, I can teach you.
"We can even make a game out of it. I can play ze song for you from my media player, and you can wager wis' me how much of it you can sing effectively before you leaf' here tonight. From zere, we can establish a win or lose scenario - whezzer losing means leaving here absent your panties or somesing a little more costly is up to you. Keep in mind, zough - ze pleasures for winning must match ze penalty for loss. One must not exceed ze ozzer to keep zis little game... Balanced." And that's assuming I play fairly.
Finally he stood, adjusting his pants slightly as he paced to the MP3 player. Scrolling through the list took little time as he owned few songs by the particular artist. In a blink, the song filtered through speakers with clear tonal range.
"What do you sink, Orah?" Ready to play a game?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2014 7:27 pm
The shift of his neck under her fingers only encouraged her to forget what she was doing as teasing turned to stroking, the pads of her fingertips meeting skin for a moment... and then he called her out and she flushed as she jerked her hand back, fingers curling into her palm as she shifted from foot to foot. She had been expecting a different reaction from him, but she couldn't be entirely disappointed as a shiver of excitement slid down her spine.
"Maybe both..." She murmured under her breath, wrapping her arms under her bust as he turned to set his chin on his knee. Settling herself with a hip pushed out and her weight on one leg, the young woman studied him with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, the hand on her arm tapping a finger against her bicep.
"I've learned songs in other languages before... I wouldn't back down from the challenge of another one." A game? Her interest was piqued, but at the same time, alarm bells rang in her head, making her wary of agreeing to anything too quickly... especially when he suggested the loss of her underclothes as a penalty. He knew how embarrassing she would find that... what could she ask for from him that would be as bad?
"How are we deciding what 'effectively' is? Obviously, I'm not going to match a native speaker with a couple hours of practice and without some baseline, I have no doubt you'd cheat and claim I did worse than I actually did." Orah said as she watched him rise to put the music on. The piano rolled through the air, a woman's voice joining it, and the young woman's head tilted as she took in the lyrics she couldn't understand.
For the most part, it didn't seem all that hard to replicate, but there were bits, little flares here and there, where the German departed from the sounds English used to make up its words. Those would be the hard parts, the places she would have to actually think in order to put the proper inflection in. But... with practice, she could probably do a decent job on it. So the game could be played, but that left the question of what penalty she would pay if she failed, and what reward she wanted if she succeeded.
"Alright." She said as she dropped her hands to the gentle swells of her hips. "I'll play your game. How far do you think I could get?" Orah paced across the room and turned to settle herself on the corner of the bed, one lean leg crossed over the other in a smooth motion while she leaned back on her hands.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 05, 2014 10:27 pm
"Oh, so Orah has some confidence after all." He shot her a crooked smirk to convey his approval. "A doormat wis' tees'. It is a step up, if only a small one. Keep going and I might let you ride me." If you even know what that means. You're still so shy - you have a long way to go before you discover that humans are best treated as tissues.
Drawing a yawn, he pinched the bridge of his nose absently. Afterward he dropped his hands to the keyboard while he traced the risen sharps and flats. "Alright. In order to pass for ze day, you must properly match all pronunciations in ze song wis'out screwing up. I should be able to discern a difference between your schon and your schön. Accent is negligible - zough I find it razzer appealing to judge you on such, especially given my own butchering of your natif' language." Hypocrisy held its own draws.
"Du Lügst so Schön," he repeated. "You lie so beautifully. I suspect you will pronounce ze majority of it correctly, saf'e for ze ö or ch sounds. Zey may be too harsh for your demure voice." He chuckled gently.
"Regardless," he started, returning to his seat in front of the keyboard. Both feet sat flat on the ground as before, and he donned rigid posture to accommodate proper playing. "You still haven't named your stakes, Orah. Do you need help, or are you simply buying time to avoid voicing some embarrassing little request?" He smirked, though he never turned toward her. Practiced hands found the proper chords for the beginning of the song, and he paced himself to the tempo set by the live version.
"We also need to set a time limit. I will say... Sree hours. Zat should be plenty of time before Quenton comes home." Not that it matters; I am certain he's smelled baser activities on me before.
Then again, she hasn't cited her stakes yet.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2014 6:26 pm
Her chin lifted as he seemed to approve of her surety in her own abilities, but he threw her right off balance again when he suggested riding him. Her cheeks flamed at the mental image that gave her and she squirmed, debating if she wanted to grab a pillow off the bed and chuck it at him. Not because it wasn't appealing, but because he had a frustrating way of talking about sex like it was as normal as asking if she wanted sugar in her coffee.
But at least that gave her an idea as to what she wanted from him.
"Maybe some other time we can work on my accent, but I'll settle for proper pronunciation." You lie so beautifully? She was somehow not surprised at his choice of song, but it made her wonder what the translation of the rest of it was. That could wait though, she didn't need to know what the words meant to sing them. Any other song, she probably could have managed passably well in three hours. The fact that all these words were in another language was going to extend the length of time she needed to master them, but she did have an edge, having done a German song before. Pronunciation would perhaps be less of an issue than keeping the lyrics straight...
Leaning on one arm, she played with a fly away strand of hair, giving Alois a long look. What would she be willing to pay as a penalty? The choice couldn't be left to him, as much as she would like to... he was the one that suggested leaving without her panties after all. But... maybe she could manage something else, similar in form to what she was asking for, which should please him with its balance.
"Alright." Orah said as she sat up finally, tucking her hair behind her ear as she uncrossed her legs, sitting with knees together. "If I manage half of the song in three hours, you are no longer allowed to call me a doormat, a push over, or otherwise imply I have no will of my own. If I can't, then..." Her cheeks heated, to her consternation, and she wet her lips nervously. "I will tell you what else I want from you, in enough detail to satisfy you. At that point, its up to you if you give it to me or not, or if more bargaining is required. And, I promise, the prizes are balanced."
Embarrassed at her own boldness, the young woman jerked to her feet and rubbed her palms on her shorts, pacing across the room as she struggled to listen to the music that was playing. She so much wanted that stupid word to never leave his lips again, but it was a dangerous gamble, to stake her own words against it... she would just have to concentrate and perform, or pay the cost.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 08, 2014 12:13 am
"So what you're saying is, I should call you a doormat a ples'ora of times to wash it out of my system in case you win. Fine, zen - if you insist. Doormat doormat doormat doormat doormat doormat doormat. And in case I'f forgotten one... Doormat. Ach, yes, ze pressure is lifted from my shoulders now. What a terrible burden to carry, all zose unvoiced jabs..." Toward the end of his dry humor, he smiled wryly.
"Orah," he started, touching a few keys to add melody to his pause, "are you aware zat my teasing is a teaching tool? Perhaps it is not ze best measure to use wis' you, but I was hoping zat by calling out zat innocuous and passif' nature in you, you might recognize and try to change it. You leaf' too much to ze whims of ozzers and srow dirt on yourself in ze process. In time you will be as all ozzer corpses, idle beneas' ze Ears' - rotten and bloated wis' your own festering responses, actions, soughts. It's not a pretty fate for such a pretty girl." He touched another tone. "And before you rebuke me, or srow my rare moment of honesty back in my face, consider zat you are a guest under zis roof and I am fully wis'in my right to dump you a**-first srough ze window." He nodded sagely.
"And wis' zat out of ze way... I suppose we should find zose lyrics. Are you more adept wis' reading sheet music, or singing by ear? If ze latter, I won't need to transcribe ze notes from ze song - a process zat, while practiced, demands some time." And you'll either sit here in boredom or tease me out of my mind - neither of which are promising to concentration.
"Alright, Orah, I will accept your offer." He stood from the chair, pushing it out slightly with the backs of his legs before he left the keyboard entirely. Pacing over to the desk, he opened the lid of his laptop to begin the quick search for proper lyrics. Perhaps the most painful portion of this exercise is listening to her ceaselessly butcher my native language in a stumbling learning process. How should I go about this? Have her repeat after me, line by line, and leave it up to her to provide proper melody as per the song? It may be better to go through the trouble of transcribing the music instead... I can't expect her to remember the melody on her own. If nothing else, a combination of both may give her a memory map of proper tone and timing while she reads from the sheet music.
Maybe I'm overthinking this.
After typing in the search query, he left his laptop to load while he searched the shelf for his staff notebook. As he flipped through the pages, a surfeit of different songs and their penciled transcriptions fluttered by before he landed on a blank page. Afterward, he returned to the lobby, both to click the appropriate link and to steal a pencil from the desk itself.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Whimsical Blue rolled 1 100-sided dice:
91
Total: 91 (1-100)
|
Posted: Tue Jul 08, 2014 7:39 pm
Orah grimaced as he went off on a doormat spree, rolling her eyes as her hands came to rest on her hips and she glared at the back of his head. Now she really wanted to throw something at him... and the pillows were out of reach. His explanation for why he did it left her off balance, as much anything he ever said did, and she was torn between annoyance and... being oddly touched.
"Alois, I probably weigh as much as you do... I find it hard to imagine you picking me up to throw me out the window." She tossed back at him, trying hard not to smile. She was still annoyed, she didn't want his humor to reach her. "I'm not sure why you find it worthwhile to attempt to 'teach' me, what you get from it... which is why its easier to think you do it just to find amusement at my expense."
The young woman watched as he rose to go to his computer, moving herself to the keyboard to fun a finger idly down the cream keys without pressing them.
"I need at least a written copy of the lyrics, if not the whole sheet music. I can learn the tune by ear, but its easier to learn the words if I can associate them to their written form. Sheet music is the easiest of all, if you can find a copy of it." The easier the better, as far as she was concerned. She was determined to win this game.Aeeth Rolling to see how she does going forward! Percent of song learned...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 22, 2014 8:27 pm
"You're forgetting zat one wis' enough conviction can readily srow your weight from ze window. I am certain zat I could do it, should I be driven enough to take zat action." He spoke while he perused the myriad search results, chewing his tongue absently while deducing the usefulness of the items presented. Most lacked the entire song or demanded payment to view more than the first page. He frowned in a distracted manner, hunched over the chair as he was, one foot lounging behind his heel while the chair dug just beneath his arms, into his bony ribs.
"I sink I found it..." He finally muttered aloud after a few solid minutes of combing through results. Finally he straightened up and turned the laptop screen toward her. "It is written in treble clf, and has all lyrics printed beneas' it wis' its separations. Zat should suffice for ze written portion of it. And you'f already heard ze song once before, so you should haf' everysing you need. No excuses if you fail." A half-lidded, impish glance fell on her before he returned to his seat at the keyboard.
With little effort, his hands found the keys in proper position. "And when you decide you can sing wis'out causing me pain, you can jump in at any time." Afterward he started off the melody with practiced ease, strokes finding a delicate differentiation in emphasis provided by pianist's style. The grand piano setting offered nothing of the booming ambience provided by the real thing, but it offered a passable imitation for the purposes of a practice run.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 15, 2014 4:24 pm
Making a face behind his back, she came to take charge of the laptop when he left it for the keyboard. It wasn't ideal to read from a screen, but she could manage somehow. Taking the electronic to the bed, she settled cross-legged on it and set the laptop across her knees. With the point of a finger, she scrolled through the music to get an overall glance and feel, some of the notations pointing out nuances she hadn't gotten from just listening to it.
There was a moment of relief when she got to the lyrics and they were not far off from things she had already practiced. Her lips moved silently as she felt her way through the words, letting him play for a bit as she fit the syllables to the melody. Mach das Pflaster nicht ab... Führe mich hinter das licht... The piano seemed to lift her up and she fell into the concentration she always found in the midst of performance, concerns pushed to the side in favor of what she was doing. She let him making through a good deal of the song before she chimed in, sitting up straight to open up her chest for better resonance.
"Wir holen unser spiel
Du beherrscht es so gut
Lass das dunkel im Dunkeln
Versprich dass du es tust..."
There was little of the emotion in the words right off, the young woman too focused on getting the sounds right while staying true to the melody than on putting depth into it. Sing without causing him pain... always a dig, with him. The lyrics were heavily accented, of course, but she forged on, her mind mentally running through the nuances she'd learned from doing Herstlied.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 17, 2014 8:14 pm
While the piano offered little challenge, Alois occasionally steered her progress via voicing the set of lyrics himself during the complexities of German pronunciation. At times, he added his own voice solely for appreciation of the chorus, or the melody on which the words lilted. Mostly Orah projected at the proper times, keeping careful track of the lyrics while the pair progressed through the song. And when she petered out with the last dregs of words, he managed the remaining portion of the song before allowing the final notes of the piano to fade into the walls. A silence came afterward, a tentative recognition of the calm cast about.
"So you didn't ******** up ze whole sing," he admitted at last, half-turning in his seat. "Your German is still terrible, but my ears didn't bleed. Should I consider myself lucky, or haf' you been brushing up on it to try and impress me?" A thin smile graced his lips, the mirth evident in his eyes. His grip tightened on the arm of the chair, spreading spider legs of taut fabric to the edges.
"Fine - I suppose zat means I haf' to honor my end of ze deal. I won't imply zat you haf' no will of your own. Besides, zat doesn't ban me from sinking it." The smile faded as his gaze trailed off toward the window, where the overcast clouds diffused light into a coldness uncharacteristic of summer. I wonder if she'll ever complete the song - if any recitals will come to pass before this place is reduced to a lair for youma. Will she know success before then? Will Quenton know another sculpture before creatures beyond his nightmares assail the streets? Time is drawing short.
Finally his attention snapped back to her, no prior sign of his lapse remaining. "Is zat all you needed me for today, Orah?" As he stood, the misanthrope braced his fingers against old material, popping the majority in a quick fan. Afterward he stretched arms high over head, elbows pointed toward the ceiling as black horns shadowing his hair.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 17, 2014 9:04 pm
For a long time, Orah lost herself in the music, in the sheer enjoyment of performing. The sound of his voice twining with her was a surprise and a delight, meshing well despite what she might have expected. She fell deeper into the sensation and it flowed nicely, almost naturally, even though the words were unusual.
Wir holen unser spiel
Du beherrscht es so gut
Lass das dunkel im Dunkeln
Versprich dass du es tust...
When they finally made it to the end, she came up out of the fog with blinking vagueness, almost surprised it was over. It had felt good, to work like this, better than it had any other time she had attempted solo work. She wasn't entirely sure why, but everything felt different here... the world had closed down to this intimate space with just the two of them and this fragile connection they'd made together. It left her feeling strange, but good... different than other times with him.
There was a sense of triumph when Orah realized just how far she had made it through the song, bolstered by his admission that her german had been passable, even if he claimed it terrible. From him, not just any other german speaker, it felt like high praise, enough so that she was able to over look the little barbs hidden in the words. She smiled, unperturbed by his teasing for once and closed his laptop. When she looked up, he was gazing out the window and she wondered for a moment what thoughts moved through that deep, clever mind, but he turned back without sharing and the wondering was put out of her mind as she realized that, yes, there was something she needed... even as she felt her face warm and sudden shyness raise its head.
Sliding off the bed in a graceful motion, she stepped closer to him as he stretched and reached to curl her fingers into the front of his shirt, near the bottom hem. It wasn't until she'd closed to a more intimate distance that she raised her eyes to find his, white teeth plucking at her lower lip.
"No... that's not all." She murmured softly, gently tugging his shirt like she did so often before she got bold and released it to slide her hands around his svelte waist. Her fingers ran delicately over his back, testing new waters with this making-the-first-move. It was exciting, but nerve-wracking as well... there was vulnerability in giving him the opportunity to refuse. "I suspect you knew that already though. You've been hinting at it all night."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Aug 21, 2014 2:01 pm
The ghost of her efforts recalled a time seemingly long ago when he and Quenton reconnected in the amazingly small apartment on university grounds. how Alois himself denied all retraction of efforts made by the sculptor. How strange it is to stand on the other side... To be wanted. I wonder if she is trying to appease me for humoring her this long. It sounds just like her, how self-effacing she often is... And terribly useful for me.
She channeled confidence - or leeched it, he knew not which - while venturing further into the realms of acting out impulse without permission. The touch against his back roused goosebumps, coaxing out conscious recognition of patches of soreness in their wake, but he offered no complaint - rather, the opposite. A lingering sense of distaste for touch still urged him to withdraw, but tolerance training left him capable of weathering it. He smirked, a hint of triumph in his voice. "I sought you'd come around to it eventually."
The chair seemed as fine a place to start as any.
In reclaiming his seat, he found it relatively easy to maneuver the lithe florist with the guidance of hands against hips, pulling her to his lap with back against chest. The arc of fingers against the hairline above her ear drew enough attention to steal away a kiss to herald the night's activities.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
