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 Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 9:53 am
Since loosing his hands, Billy's squeezebox had lay forgotten and neglected in his pack hanging from it's perch on the part of the lake that had become Billy's home. When it was this late, though, the moon looking enormous over the trees and the stars twinkling far brighter than they ever had when he had lived in the city, he felt inspired to at least try again. It was an annoying instrument, he knew that, which was why he liked it. When he was young he had even been a part of a kind-of-sort-of-band that hopped from pub to pub untill their interest had let out and they had all gone their seperate ways. Billy might not have been the most literate of people, but he knew piano keys, accordian keys and squeezebox buttons well enough to play by ear. Not that he had ears anymore.
And so, as the night bled on, and he was fairly confident no one would be within earshot of the lake at this time, the octopus attempted to play. He began slowly, managing to press down the buttons with various tentacle tips, but it was clumsy work that ended up sounding not unlike a cat being slowly flattened by a steam roller, punctuated by his loud, growled cursing. He'd get it. It just would take practice. Right. Practice. ********>
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 10:02 am
It was hard to work up the courage to go trudging through the jungle with the knowledge there could be a singed wolf lurking in the bushes, but that was what alcohol was for. Sid set out with a bottle of rum he'd forgotten he had in the mini fridge, and by the time he reached the jungle he was confident that he wouldn't be attacked by so much as a mosquito... Was there somebody with a mosquito serum? God he hoped not. Still, the idea made him laugh.
It was, once he was too drunk to worry, a lovely night for a stroll... but that noise was ruining it. Alcohol and curiosity got the better of him and he wandered over. His clumsy approach was, for once, masked by the sound of the tortured instrument. He stopped a few feet away from the octopus.
"What the hell're you doin'?"
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 10:11 am
At the sound of a voice indicating he hadn't been alone, the octopus actually jumped, splashing a bit as he tried to hide his squeezebox in a coil of tentacles, "NOTHIN'! Wha' th'hell're y'doin' ou' here?" It was amazing he hadn't spotted the glow-in-the-dark Sid, but he had been rather absorbed in his attempt at regaining some of his limited musical ability.
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 10:17 am
"It's dark and I needed some air," Sid said, forcing himself to carefully pronounce each word as any self-respecting drunk would do. He gave up by the next sentence. "Whatcha got there?"
Leaning a little closer proved to be a mistake, as he was forced to stagger back a few feet to keep from tumbling into the lake. He probably should have kept better track of what he'd had before he found the bottle of rum... like the beers he tried to use to coax out more than two sentences at a time. Two sentences was progress. Sort of.
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 10:23 am
"Y'reek o' drink, brother," Billy chuckled, relaxing slightly as he lifted the useless instrument, "S'me squeezebox, man... I used t'be good, I swear it."
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 10:29 am
"Reek? Me?" Sid glanced down. He'd forgotten that, given his method of drinking, he got almost as much on himself as he did down his throat. He made a halfassed attempt at wiping off his jeans before he looked up at Billy. "I still can't really type either, y'know." He splayed his fingers. "I'm thinkin', like, maybe if I curled 'em a little more it'd help... But no, still ********' hard. So it's two fingers. Which sucks. Don't have anything done yet either, before you ask."
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 10:31 am
Billy grunted with a four-armed shrug as he fidgeted with his instrument again, wriggling his tentacle tips to try to push down the appropriate buttons to form a slightly more passable B minor. "Aint li' we're in any sor' o' hurry, now, righ'?"
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 10:34 am
"Even so." Sid sat down to avoid any further risk of falling over. He could only pretend like he was listening to Billy's attempts for so long. "Have you had that thing all along?"
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 10:40 am
"Aye... s'li'... th'only thing' I go' left, really. They took me Da's knife when I go' here. Managed t'sneak it untill I finally go' caught. Bastards." He glanced sideways to the fish-man befor finally giving a frustrated grunt and practically threw the poor instrument to the grass behind him. "Y'go' anymore drink?"
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 10:58 am
Sid held the bottle out to Billy. There was still a good amount left. "You've got your health," Sid offered. "And your youth. Both more'n I have."
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 11:01 am
His youth. He grunted at that, sloshing the rum around. So much for sober. The other day he had given up on that as well. Afterall, what was the point? What was he trying to prove by "becoming clean"? That Aubrey would magically come to him or take him away from this place? ******** it. He tipped the bottle back with a heavy swig, and after he weazed off the burning sensation down his throat, octopussian insides rumbling, he grumbled, "D'y'know wha' date it is?"
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 11:06 am
"Uh... Not exactly."
Which was true. Sid rarely kept track of time anymore. Still, he ventured a guess. "Wednesday? Tuesday?"
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 11:10 am
"Last I checked... was th'end o' November, aye? D'y't'ink it's th'twenty ninth?" He murmured distractedly.
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 11:10 am
Sid nodded slowly. "Probably. More than likely. Yeah, sure."
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 11:16 am
At that, he gave a laugh, "Well, there goes me youth, then."
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