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 Posted: Mon Nov 23, 2015 6:03 pm
How many days had it been now? Porsha couldn't have said. They all seemed to blend together for her. Days into nights, and nights into days, she slept more now than she had ever allowed herself to do in the past. A combination of the painkillers and a healing body's need for rest. Porsha hated it. She hated being cooped up and immobile, but most of all, she hate dhow utterly vulnerable she felt in the wake of the clash with Thraen and the resulting injuries. It wasn't just the wound, and it wasn't just the pain that inevitably accompanied it. It was the dreams that followed it. Fragmented, awful things that seemed to leave her, if anything, more tired. Sometimes, in wavering moments between sleep and waking, she thought she could recall them, u the harder she tried to hold onto them, the quicker they seemed to slip through her fingers until all that remained was a drained feeling of exhaustion and the ache of an abused body. Sometimes she woke alone, or with Lenora curled up tight against her chest. Other times she woke to the warmth of another body. No one was there when she opened her eyes this time. It was dark in her room, but not the darkness of her early morning she was used to. This was different, warmer some how, and a glance towards the clock on the bedside table confirmed her suspicions of it being early evening. Groaning, the young woman pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes, rubbing away the fatigue before trying to push herself up to sit at the edge of the bed. Trying to stand resulted in a loss of balance that set her back down hard on the bed, the jolt making her curse loudly as she grabbed for the bedside table, sending an empty water glass off the edge to bounce on the carpeting. Apparently she hadn't been sleeping that long, not if the Vicodin was still hitting her this hard. She didn't take painkillers often, the strong stuff hit her hard. "God ******** damnit!" I hate this.
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Posted: Thu Nov 26, 2015 8:22 am
Violin practice became Slate's phenomenal way of passing time. The cleaning was finished hours ago, and without any other active duties, Slate found himself terribly bored with sitting around or watching TV. Truly he wanted to train, as the urge grew automatic and deeply ingrained in his understanding of daily accomplishments, but Xenotime was decommissioned and in need of on-site care. Additionally, the apartment proved a terrible place for any kind of sparring practices.
So Slate took up a seat on the couch, rested his violin case across his lap, and cracked it open to investigate the flamed violin inside. It looked absent dust still, with the cleaning cloth draped across the strings, and he took it out to test its tuning. Having been months since he last touched it, he expected sour notes of glorious proportion (and indeed, his G string sounded much more like a C string, and his E string sounded lower than the A string) but half the strings sounded only slightly out of tune. A few dedicated minutes of turning the pegs (for his violin lacked fine tuners) left the instrument in pretty good shape. He shouldered it, pinned it beneath his chin, and tightened the bow when he heard the dull thwack of a glass striking carpet and a scathing curse.
Slate stood abruptly and carried the violin and bow by frog and neck pressed together. Hastily he trotted toward the bedroom, turned the corner, and peeked through the door to discover what went amiss. A thick red braid tumbled over his shoulder and hung in the air like a pendulum waiting for time to pass.
Porsha looked, well... As she always looked lately. The exhaustion laid in thick moons under her eyes, and her gaze looked glassy from the prescription painkillers. She seemed wan and pale from the days indoors and lack of exercise. He imagined, too, that some of her wilted disposition stemmed from the residual pain. Having never been injured that severely before, Ochre Slate couldn't relate to the constant throb of her chest, but he knew very well the agonies of being limited indoors due to a sickly constitution.
Slate thought about smiling, decided that might get him pegged with the glass on the floor, and opted for a question instead. "Uh, Can I get you anything...? What's going on?" The instrument knocked softly at his side.
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Posted: Thu Dec 03, 2015 6:48 pm
She was taking shallow breaths as Slate appeared in the doorway, and one small hand was pressed to the side of her ribs just below the curve of her breast. Back straight, eyes closed, she waited for the waves of dizziness and pain to ebb before glancing his way. "I knocked over the glass." The bare bones of honesty. She was supposed to be taking it easy, letting him, or his brother, or dami take care of her. As much as she enjoyed the attention, this was definitely not the way the girl wanted to get it. This was restlessness and vulnerability, boredom and inactivity. This was torture. This was Porsha's personal hell. A slow inward draw of air, held for a five count, then released in a sigh as she dropped her brow to rest in her hands. Fingertips resting at her hair line before sweeping back to force bright hair back from her face as she lifted her head again. Now she noticed the violin in his hand, and it took her a moment to remember when it was she'd heard him playing last. It had been a while. Either he was practicing primarily hen she was out of the apartment, or he simply hadn't been practicing very much as of late. Neither possibility was all that pleasing. "Were you going to play?" She nodded towards the instrument. "I didn't mean to interrupt you." There was a beat, a moments hesitation where she chewed thoughtfully at the inside of her cheek, then she was holding a wavering hand out to him. "Come here, keep me company for a while." She had Lenore, the cat had hardly left her side while she'd been home, but for as comforting as her presence was, she was a reminder of something incredibly painful. Considering the nature of the injury...well, her chest didn't need the extra ache. She needed to stay put. She needed to actually let herself heal before rushing out and exchanging blows with a knight. "This is making me crazy," she admitted, a humorless laugh trickling out a second later. "I ******** hate being stuck here." Even if her voice still crackled a bit. Even if she still couldn't pull a deep breath without it making her entire chest hurt. Holding still had never been something she was good at.
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Posted: Tue Dec 08, 2015 1:41 am
"Oh." Was that it? Porsha knocked over a glass? Slate blinked a few times. "Okay." Crossing the threshold to pick it up was easy enough, and he replaced it on the nightstand. The floor felt damp where the water had spilled, so he started back toward the doorway to grab a rag.
Though he didn't expect it, Porsha had more to say - so he paused when he reached the doorway. "Hmm? Yeah, I mean, I was thinking about it but I wasn't sure since maybe you were still taking a nap so I shouldn't wake you up, or you might ask for something and I wouldn't hear you so I was gonna grab my mute..." Slate trailed off. His brother generally kept his communications short and sweet; he wondered if he should do the same. Not everyone enjoyed a novel for every simple question asked. "I could... Play for you." If he quite remembered how; spending those months in the Negaverse did him little good.
"I know what it's like," Slate replied as he backtracked to the bed. He did so by walking backward, until he stepped in the wet spot again. The water would dry out on its own, he reminded himself. "To be stuck in one spot, I mean. It's hard, especially when you have no one to talk... to." Frowning, he blinked a couple times. Thinking nothing further of it, Slate took a seat. His violin remained clutched between his knees. "Shale said he didn't think you'd have to wait a long time to heal. He said to tell you that he asked some doctors and all of them wanted to inspect you, but that they basically said it would take a couple weeks. And that organs heal fast, or something. I don't know; I'm not good with medical stuff."
Raising the instrument to chin, Slate bowed a long note out of his A string. It sounded significantly more tuned than before. When tried against another string, he found that only slight adjustments were needed. He fussed with the pegs accordingly until the deep brown knobs were thrust into place. "Are there any songs you like?"
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Posted: Fri Dec 18, 2015 6:20 pm
It was the simplest explanation, the one she was most willing to give in the moment, because she didn't want to say how helpless she felt, how stuck, how utterly restless. Her body ached, not just from the injuries she'd abused over and over, but from lack of use. She wanted to run. She wanted to bruise her knuckles against a bag, she wanted to feel the weight of a rough iron bar in her fingers, she wanted to feel that familiar burn that meant she was alive. She didn't want to be here, stuck in a bed, dependent on anyone. She blinked at him as he expressed having a similar knowledge, and all at once she remembered Shale mentioning that his brother had been sickly. Cool features softened, lips parting to allow a soft sigh to pass trough, then she smiled up at him gratefully as he backtracked and took a seat on the edge of the bed. It was almost automatic, the soft brush of her hand at the back of his shoulder as Porsha leaned tot he side and let gravity drop her back against the mattress behind him. It was easy curling to spoon around his hips, easy to lay an arm across his thighs as she turned enough to look up at him, listening as he recited what Shale had told him. "I'd be healed already if I wasn't so impatient. My own fault." Her voice crackled a little, and she had to clear it for it to sound half way normal again. Lenore crawled across the bed to lay beside Po's shoulder, and she tipped her head until she could feel the soft brush of fur against her brow, cooing at the cat as Slate fussed with the strings. "You can play anything you want," she answered, lifting her eyes to him again. "I just like the sound. It's all lovely to my ears."
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Posted: Mon Dec 21, 2015 2:35 am
Slate almost jumped when he felt her conform around his hips and thighs, inwardly wondering whether he should even breathe or move right now. He wanted to rejoice, and perhaps mentally he did, as for the first time in his woefully short life did someone touch him so thoroughly. He couldn't stymie the s**t-eating grin from plastering across his face, but he tried to mitigate its intensity by preventing a view of his teeth.
"I guess there's not a lot you can do with a busted lung." Slate finished his tuning and played a quick scale while he spoke. "I remember sleeping a lot. Sometimes I read books, and sometimes I was well enough to go outside and sit on the porch, but it's not like there's a lot you can do. Heh, when I was little, I remember Shale making this really rickety-looking swing sort of thing and pulling me up into the trees with it. I always liked being up high." Pausing, Slate ran his pinky nail against the bow hair that came out of the base of the frog. A fine mist of rosin coughed out.
"Anyway, I'm sure we can do something sorta similar. Teleporting opens a lot of options. We can take you outside and stuff."
Slate spent but a minute picking out a tune, one that involved considerable play on simultaneous strings, that spoke of whimsy and great personality. He played in perfect time, though he interspersed stylistic elements and great tracts of vibrato to spice up the tune. Occasionally the song demanded significant footwork with his left hand, and Slate executed it with practiced ease. As always, he kept time with his foot, and occasionally tried to toss his hair out of his face. It didn't often stay.
When Slate reached the crescendo, the notes sped to sixteenths and his wrist remained loose with the movement. Occasionally he swapped to staccato notes as the song directed down a lulling path. When he finished, the bow came off the strings and he looked to Porsha. "Do you like things like that?"
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Posted: Wed Dec 23, 2015 1:16 pm
For better or for worst, Porsha missed that smile, the way he stilled when she touched him. Frustrated and tired, she wasn't quite as perceptive as would normally have been. But she wasn't listening, even as her eyes closed and she nuzzled her face against the black and white shoulder of the cat that lay purring beside her. Drawing in the familiar, comforting scent. Ignoring the way it pulled at her heart strings. It would be nice to get out of the apartment, even if to just sit in the cooling autumn air. Maybe a trip up to the roof to sit on the edge of their building so she could look out across the city, and just for a moment, pretend she wasn't half broken and bedridden until the stubborn wounds had finally healed. "I'd like that, getting out of here for a while." She wanted to go running, but that was simply out of the question. Too much strain on a damaged lung. He played, and she listened in silence. For a long time Po didn't move from how she'd settled with her face nuzzled in against Lenore's side, but after a few moment her head would turn, pale eyes rolling up to watch the play of his fingers across the neck and the sawing motion of the bow as it carved long, lovely notes from the strings. In turn, the hand that rested on his thighs moved as well, the tips of painted fingers absently attempting to mimic the motions, despite knowing nothing of how to play the instrument in his hands. When he looked down for approval Porsha smiled up at him, nodding. "Mmhmm. You really do have a gift, you know." If things had been different, she could have seen him taking the stage at the Destiny City concert hall. Hell, even with the hand dealt, it still wasn't an impossibility. There were plenty among their ranks that pursued other avenues along side the Negaverse. Herself included. You could have a career, and you could be a good soldier. They weren't mutually exclusive.
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Posted: Fri Dec 25, 2015 12:47 pm
"That's what my mom always said. She told me, if I wanted to, I could get out of the village and get a job as a musician. But, I dunno. Maybe I'll still do it. Maybe I won't. It's been a long time since I played and it feels like I almost forgot how. And... It's weird. It's almost like I don't like it as much anymore." Setting the bow down, he plucked idly at the instrument to provide a sassy, defiant tune. "And I don't think the Negaverse cares if I play or not. I mean, you can't exactly use a violin as a weapon, you know." Unless there was a senshi within the Negaverse that manipulated sound waves.
"Oh, uh, did you want me to take you out right now? It's... Not too bad out," he commented, leaning over to take stock of the weather through the window. "And it's not like it's hard to get to the roof anymore." Even if she preferred to be carried, increased strength and speed eased that burden. But, most of all, teleportation provided one of his favorite methods of travel currently. With it, he essentially unlocked every point of the city he could ever want to visit - so long as he'd seen it before. Because of this, any request Porsha had could easily be fulfilled.
If she made any.
"Or, do you wanna learn how to play violin? Cuz your fingering is pretty awful." Slate copped a smile. It felt good at the time, when she tried to approximate his movements.
Slate sighed as he loosened the bow sitting next to him and set the violin aside on the nightstand. It rocked slightly on its bowed back. "I tried to teach Shale once. Did he tell you that? I thought my ears were gonna bleed." He chuckled. "He didn't stick to it long. I guess it's not surprising, huh? He had trouble figuring out how to read the notes. He said it's not like reading English, and it's not. I mean, we use the same symbol for all the different notes, expect when they're shorter, right? He just couldn't get with that. And, I mean, he sucked like you wouldn't believe at being gentle. You can't really just play forte all the time and expect it to sound great." His gaze traveled to the violin for a time, pausing, before he finally looked to her.
"So, you wanna?"
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Posted: Sat Dec 26, 2015 4:27 pm
Well that's a bit curious. Full lips twitched in a curious purse as Porsha looked up at the young man, watching his fingers move as the picked out a short tune along the strings. Last she'd be aware, Slate loved playing the instrument. If that had changed, it made the fighter wonder what might have happened as cause. Of course, he had had a rough year, to say the last, filled with all manner of trials and tribulations. Her hand settling on his hip was meant to be a comforting gesture, but it was a subtle one, almost absent. "That would depend on what branch you work for." It was said softly. "If you were in Infiltration, being well placed within the art scene of Destiny City would prove very useful." She'd have liked to keep agents under her care within her own branch, but she understood that not everyone carried that sort of thirst for violence. It wasn't something she would push though, not if he truly didn't enjoy playing as much as he used to. Really, Po just wanted to support him, as she supported any soldier she claimed as her own(whether they thought the same, or not.). She hadn't been there for him enough after he'd been awakened, and it always made her wonder. If she'd been more present, would he have strayed as he had? There was no way to know for sure, but she was going to make it a point to be more present now at least. The offer to head outside was met with a thoughtful glance towards the window. It was tempting, just to get a breath of fresh air, but she knew it would come with longing as well. There'd b no satisfaction in it, not now, so she shook her head in answer. "Maybe later." It was the second offer that seemed to interest her the most. She rose up on her elbow as she Slate smiled at her, lips pressing into a thin line that tugged up at the corners after a second or two. "I know a few people that might say otherwise." The comment came with a small pinch to his hip. There had been no complaints from the ladies she'd spent time with, nor the men that held in interest in that sort of thing. Of course, that hadn't been what he meant, and she knew it. And it was always fun hearing about Shale and Slate's pasts. Their lives before she'd found them. She chuckled as he recounted the elder bother's awful attempts at learning the violin, head shaking softly before she'd rest her cheek against Slate's arm. "That really doesn't surprise me." She wondered, too, if it didn't have anything to do with the other man's complete lack of musical appreciation. Or maybe it was just her music he didn't appreciate. No. She had excellent taste. "If you're in the mood to teach, I'd like to learn."
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Posted: Wed Dec 30, 2015 6:55 am
Most of what she said before her wry comment went unacknowledged, for the presence of the remark captivated him immensely, and any logical thought that he was working on instantly vanished. Porsha turned his own words into innuendo. That meant she was talking dirty to him. Even if she teased about it.
She still said something inappropriate to him. This meant something. He wasn't sure what yet, but it was something.
And he would find out.
Eventually.
The shock value for the comment remained evident on his face, and Slate made no attempts to conceal it. Several moments passed before he recovered some of his wits. "Uh, yeah, I can try. I mean, no guarantees that I'm an awesome teacher or anything cuz I don't... Really know how to teach someone the way I learned, but yeah. So um," he held the violin out to her by the neck. "Take this where I'm holding it, then hold it across your chest like a guitar. You can reach the strings with your right hand - it really is just like a mini guitar in this position." Or maybe a ukulele was a better comparison. Whatever, it was already said, and she either got it or she didn't.
"You can brush the strings with your thumb and they'll uh, make noise for a pretty long time. If your fingers aren't touching any of the strings. So you can probably play the strings for a minute and get a feel for how they sound - when you're not touching them with your fingers at the top, they're called open strings." He started to wonder if she was better off learning the parts of the violin initially, or if he should've shown her some music. Maybe he was overthinking this.
"You can stop me and ask me things whenever, too - I haven't really taught anyone other than my brother."
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Posted: Sat Jan 02, 2016 4:37 pm
That sly, vaguely lecherous smile lingered on for a moment or two as she savored Slate's surprise. The sort of smile that grew into an all out grin as he was handing her the violin and the lesson began in earnest. It was such a great reaction to such a simple comment. It made her want to poke more, to see how he'd respond to something completely overt. A completely selfish desire, and one she wouldn't normally have held back on, but not only was she injured, but this was Shale's brother. Admittedly, she wasn't sure if the latter meant anything or not. Shale was simultaneously uncomplicated and hard to read. A part of her, had hoped that something would have happened between them at this point, but their relationship seemed to have settled somewhere comfortably platonic, and Porsha was respecting his wish for her not to push things. So if Shale wasn't interested, was Slate really off limits? Had he ever been? Doing as he instructed would take a bit of adjustment. She had to slip a little away from him just so she'd have room for her elbows as she lay the instrument across her chest as he directed. "So," she spoke up after he was finished, nail picking at the strings one at a time. "not pressing them down along the neck means they're open." It seemed simple enough. She picked out a simple tune, something elementary, a small smile playing along her lips. It was the sort of distraction she'd needed. Something that took thought as well as motion. Something that wasn't taxing on the body, but still managed to be a challenge.
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Posted: Sun Jan 10, 2016 2:25 am
"Yeah. You got it." Slate settled back on his elbows as he listened to the notes plucking out of the strings. They sounded warm, rich, and full-bodied from the boisterous summer rosin. She lucked her strings softly at first, and played with differing strengths of the strings, which left her meandering from fortissimo to pianissimo and most everything in between. "Pretty easy, right? I mean, you just pluck the strings and that's it. The next part is a lot harder, though. I don't actually have tape on the fingerboard where your fingers are supposed to go, like most people do when they start playing."
Slate sat up and scooted closer so he could access the black swath beneath the strings. Carefully he pressed an index finger to the A string, and held it steadfast. "So now if you pluck this string, it's gonna sound a little different. This note is B, and if I went up..." Slate pressed his middle finger to the same string. "This one is a little more different, because it's not just C, it's C sharp. And this one..." He added his ring finger quite close to his middle. "Is D. And then if i put my pinky finger down here, we're at E. It sounds just like the open E string. Well, mostly. It's a lot softer when you're plucking, but it's pretty much the same.
"You get the same finger positions on all the strings, and you'll get sharps in some of the same locations, like F sharp on the D string. And all that's kinda complicated with the key you're playing in and none of that really matters when you're just learning how to play. But you can sorta figure your way through the different notes by how they sound. At least, you can if you're not my brother. The note will sound kinda sour if it doesn't fit in that key." There's that word again. Mentally Slate cussed.
"When I first started learning, it was just easy stuff like where your fingers go and what notes they are. It was only after I got pretty familiar with where my fingers go that I actually started learning really simple songs. Mary had a Little Lamb was one of them.
"Uh," he paused, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. I'm trying not to be boring." He thought it easy to do between speaking of one of his passions and doing so with someone who could hardly speak. But Porsha was kind in her patience with him; she had not yet spoken a reprimand.
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Posted: Tue Jan 12, 2016 4:24 pm
She was into it now, plucking out mindless little tunes as she got the feel the the notes, the weight of the strings. Nothing all that impressive, but she certainly wasn't afraid to make a mistake, and that meant she was more than willing to try different combinations of things until something sounded fair to her. This would carry on for a little while, until Shale was sliding closer so he could press a finger against one of the strings on the neck, and when she plucked it then the note was, as expected, different. Her attention sharpened as she watched the placement of his fingers and the resulting sounds that followed the quick picking of the strings in succession. Lips pursed and brows furrowed in soft concentration. How much of it would stick after a first lesson was debatable, but she was certainly putting in the effort. Mimicking the way he moved his hands, trying to reproduce the notes. When he leaned back head tipped up, gaze lifting in a silent question before a soft smile followed, and a shake of her head. "No, you aren't boring." A little adorable, though. She let the violin rest on her lap as she pushed herself up on one elbow, reaching up to touch the bottom of his chin with warm fingers. It would be easy to draw away if he wanted to, to resist the gentle pull that would bring him down to her. But if he didn't, if he let Porsha draw him in, he'd be rewarded with the press of full lips against his own in a firm kiss.
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Posted: Sat Jan 16, 2016 8:08 pm
At least Porsha could catch on without making his ears bleed. She played the notes that he pointed out, and while a handful of them sounded off-key, that was more due to newness and lack of tools to succeed than any tone deafness. It excited him, the prospect that he could introduce another to music, and urged him to teach her further. However, he wanted to wait and see if she solicited further instruction before he forced her to move on.
When she confirmed he wasn't boring, Slate grinned. He had little experience to base it off of, but Shale had confirmed once before that he thought learning violin was inane, and that Slate's teaching methods weren't engaging. It was said about as bluntly, which left Slate averse to teaching others for some time. Porsha was the first after that, and she confirmed otherwise. That was good. That was progress. He liked progress.
And he liked kissing, so when Porsha touched his chin and urged him forward, he capitulated with an eagerness that he tried to smother. Slate didn't want to look desperate, but he didn't want to appear disinterested either; striking a balance between the two was difficult, and he erred to the side of excitement.
When he reciprocated the kiss, he was reminded of all the second guessing and logistical errors that came with being an inexperienced kisser. He wondered where to put his hands, and whether framing her thighs with them was too enclosing or if he should've put them on her waist somehow and how was he supposed to balance if he did, and how exactly did she want to be kissed because she didn't give him an instruction manual about the whole thing and what if the method he chose was too much or too little or what if he was simply just bad at it on all accounts? A profusion of questions surged through his mind during the entirety of it, and even several times he considered the placement of his violin and whether he might accidentally bump it off her lap and onto the floor, but overall he resigned himself to simply try and see what came of it.
He always wanted to kiss Porsha, anyway.
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Posted: Sun Jan 17, 2016 3:08 pm
There was a certain nervous eagerness to him that she hadn't been expecting, but it made her smile as her hand slid up to cup his cheek, head tipping and lips parting. Directing, but subtly, briefly. There was a certain charm in a novice(and she couldn't have said why, but it surprised her) that Porsha had never quite been able to resist. A draw, something, but she'd always had a bit of a soft spot for things that were shiny and new. Maybe it was about power, even here. Porsha liked the taste of power. It was with a certain amount of distracted care that Porsha drew the violin from her lap and lay it on the blankets a little away from them. The instrument was a precious thing, and she would have felt horrible if anything were to happen to it. Additionally, selfishly, it would have ruined the moment, and it'd been a long time since Porsha had been well enough, consistently enough, to indulge in anything more then platonic cuddling or a chaste kiss. Fingertips curling at the back of his jaw, she drew him closer, bringing him down to the bed with a soft murmur against is lips. "Careful." She was still sore, still ached, but she'd never been good at sitting still. "Careful," she breathed again as her back hit the mattress, and she brought her free hand up to mirror the first, cradling his face in her hands as she drank him down through that kiss. There was no plan in mind. Porsha wasn't sure what she expected to happen, but she seemed eager to ind out. To go as far as Slate was willing, or as far as her body allowed.
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