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@2nakeeye2-blog
I logged off for about two weeks and this is still here…? I didn’t sign up for this… Besides, it’s imperative that I keep myself mysterious. I enjoy being the alluring unknown factor.
Hah, well, I'm not too sure about the "alluring" bit. "Stubbon", perhaps, or maybe just "strange". Yes, those are much better words for you.
And it's not as if I'm asking for your entire life story. As I said before, a simple sentence or two will suffice.
Practice
"Hmm…" Clover frowned.
She continued to merely make low, incoherent sounds until finally the words came to express her thoughts. "It…it doesn’t sound soothing anymore…" Her throat was to dry to continue, and she had to force a hard swallow. "It’s more…to use your word, dynamic, and that’s what’s nice about it but…" She stared intently at the floor, becoming very aware of the deep arch in her brow and inexplicable sensation of teardrops forming behind her eyelids.
As her vision blurred, she blinked hard and sorted out her thoughts enough to voice them. “It doesn’t…it doesn’t sound like you. It doesn’t sound like home, and that’s what you are to me. It sounds like an emotion that I’ve never seen you have, or even imagined you having.”
She felt a few of the tears slip over the brink of her eyelid and down her cheek, quickly brushing them away with her sleeve. She couldn’t imagine what could’ve made him feel this way. What on earth had prompted this? Her mind reeled and she began to lose grip on her composure. I…I can’t stand the thought of him feeling like this!
"...Clover?"
His fingers still, and every muscle in his body follows as he hears the sobs strain her voice. Whatever reaction he'd been expecting, it hadn't been... this. Frozen in shock, he feels guilt building in his chest and rising to his throat, taking his voice away and threatening to choke him, at the thought that he'd made his sister cry.
How foolish of me. That's the thought burning most fervently in his mind as he helplessly listens to Clover break down. How foolish to think that allowing her even a glance at his inner turmoil, his immense anger and remorse and fear, would yield positive results. He is the older sibling, the guardian - the pain and trauma they've endured together two times too many is his responsibility, his burden to carry.
She doesn't deserve to carry one bit of it.
Swallowing, he attempts to regain his voice. "Clover... Please, don't cry. It's alright." Realizing he is able to move again, he stands and moves toward her, reaching out and pulling her into a hug.
"There, now. Please don't worry about me, I'm quite alright." Briefly he considers telling her everything - every ounce of meaning he poured into the song - but he can't quite find the words, so he provides her instead with a half-truth that he hopes will suffice: "I only wished to write something a bit more... emotional. I..." He lets out a soft chuckle, more of an attempt to cheer her up than an expression of genuine amusement. "I suppose I might've gone a little overboard, if you're in such a state."
(( sorry i've been kinda neglecting this blog lately...however! my last final exam was yesterday, which means i'm off school until the end of january! so i should definitely be more active for the next few weeks : D ))
Tumblr has all the right ideas.
Practice
"Well to me it sounds perfect as it is!" Clover insisted. "Maybe it’s just because I get attached to sensory things that bring back good memories, and it reminds me of all the times you’ve played it for me when it really mattered…but even if that’s the reason it’s not like it’s bad music! I’m not making excuses for enjoying some terrible racket. Believe me, I would let you know immediately if my ears were bleeding."
"Aaanyway," she said, drawing out the vowel in her signature tone of impatience.
"Impress me."
His smile only grows at her words. "Thank you, Clover. That's very kind of you to say." In truth, he already pretty much knows how she feels about his music, but hearing her say it aloud is quite comforting.
"Alright, alright, I'll start, then." Without further ado, he plays a few bars of his newest song. Compared to the steady serenity of his usual tunes, this one's quite a bit more dynamic, changing from slow and somber to somewhat more rapid and intense (as much as one can get with a harp, anyway) at a pace Light hopes is quick, but reasonable.
There's a reason for this, of course. Never the best at getting his feelings across in words, Light hopes to express the tumultuous emotions he's been feeling after being trapped in not one, but two games of life-and-death with his sister. The sorrow and guilt he experienced the many times he felt helpless to protect Clover - what matters most to him in the world - are easy to convey in slow, long notes. But other emotions - anger, anxiety, fear - are not so simple to express through the harp, and he wonders whether this is a good idea at all.
"As you can probably tell," he says once he's stopped playing, "it's not quite finished. But what did you think of what I have so far? I'm a bit worried about the pacing and dynamics, personally."
(( i keep forgetting that i followed like 5 blogs about snakes when i started this blog.. why
[oh, don’t worry about punching gentarou— the only ones i can say who are likely to not punch them are kagechika, teruaki (though just b/c theyre a weenie), akio, shuu (nah dae’d go for a scalpel or st), maybe akane. maybe. the two mostly just bicker. nothing physical yet, but maybe in the future]
[as for your idea, well my blog is usually set post-first nonary game by two years. i can’t say i’ve done a huge thread with older ace (my one with akane is the closest i have but idk how long that’ll be— it wasn’t planned or anything), but im up for trying. that means, however, that they’re in a california prison. i’m not sure if light would be in cali, let alone wanting to see ace about a nightmare he had. likely, they’d just dismiss him if he tried claiming an alternate timeline. say he’s just running too far with bad dreams]
[err, im not trying to shoot down your idea so harshly. i’m just running through the logic of everything about it. a basic confrontation would be very very flat, especially for post-999. ace becomes more or less a shell that can talk, and even more of a dick. they’d end up leaving or something]
[if we could find a situation that might force them together in a (relatively) civil manner, we might make some progress there… or we can do something completely au. i am the au overlord, so im totally down for that]
[also, when youre talking about my ace, please use they/them/their pronouns]
(( oh gosh, their pronouns completely slipped my mind, sorry abt that. i'll go back n change em
don't worry though, i see what you're saying logically. you're right when you say it probably wouldn't be very productive for them to just have a confrontation like that.
i.. probably should've checked up on your ace's usual timeline before responding, oops, but. if you wanted to do something pre-999 i'm up for playing a younger light. there are hints that the fields' parents are pretty well-off so perhaps there's some sort of. Important Dinner Party For Important People (i. don't really know how rich ppl work tbh) at the fields' residence and ace is invited as the ceo of cradle pharmaceutical? i'm not sure whether they would recognize/remember light, but light would certainly recognize them, which could make for some interesting conversations.
if that doesn't work (i'm not sure whether ace remembers/pays attention to the names of the kids they kidnapped but if so. they probably wouldn't want to attend a dinner party hosted by the fields), then i'm up for an au as well although i'm not too well-versed when it comes to au's so i don't have many ideas, ))
[that is okay because neither do i rn, honestly,]
[that is why we brainstorm and plan. are there any concepts/ideas or time points that you’re interested in RPing?]
(( reblogging instead of replying because this got long, aha,
i'm not sure because tbh light wouldn't do much more than like. punch hongou in the face and probably call the police if he ever met them again? like hello police, yes i understand that i knocked this dude out but they kidnapped many children and tried to kill me, why are they running free,
which means that an au or different time point would Probably be best but i don't have any ideas for those,
one thing that might be relevant is. i have a headcanon that light has infrequent but vivid nightmares about things that happened in other timelines (read: safe end), and perhaps he would want to confront hongou like bro would you have tried to kill my sister too?? what the fuck??? but idk how that confrontation would even start tbh, ))
acehxngou replied to your post: acehxngou replied to your post: (( goo...
oh no, did something happen? and im all right!! kinda bored, haha
(( don't worry nothing Happened it was just... one of those mornings where i wake up not wanting to do anything except maybe sleep more...w hich of course results in me lying in bed until like 1pm. i felt better after i finally got up and ate something though. and im glad to hear youre doing all right!
Practice
"Hm?" she looked up at him with a furrowed brow. "What were you thinking about? You always seem really focused when you’re playing…maybe not after all." She studied his face, searching it for something he wasn’t telling her.
"But sure, of course I’ll listen. Why wouldn’t I? Silly." You always ask me to do things when you should know you don’t need to, she mused silently. She sat on the floor in front of the stool, legs crossed, arms folded in her lap, and looked attentively towards the musician in the imaginary spotlight.
Still smiling, Light shakes his head, chiding himself inwardly. He should know by now that when it comes to his inner feelings, nothing gets past Clover, no matter how hard he tries to hide them.
"Wonderful," he says brightly in response to Clover's answer. "I really do appreciate your help, Clover. And as for why I became lost in thought, well..."
"...I was just thinking about the song I was playing," he explains. "I'm not sure if you remember, but the first time I heard it was at that music festival we attended a while ago." He lets out a deep, somewhat melancholic sigh before continuing: "It left quite the impression on me, but... Since I never learned the name of the song, I had to learn it from memory, and I can never be entirely sure if I'm playing it exactly right. I quite like the song as I play it, so I don't typically let this bother me, but... Sometimes it gets me down, I suppose."
His smile returns to his face as soon as he notices its absence. "But enough about that. I said I was going to play something new for you, yes?" A mock sternness comes into his tone as he continues: "Now, I want your honest opinion, Clover - no sugarcoating. If there's anything you think I could improve, please let me know." He knows she'll be honest with him anyway, but by now it's practically a ritual to give her that tirade before he plays something new for her.
"Just let me know when you're ready."
acehxngou replied to your post: (( good afternoon. or whatever time it...
hello!!! how are you?
(( i'm Good, i was feeling kinda gross this morning but i'm better now, i think. and yourself?
(( good afternoon. or whatever time it happens to be in yalls timezones
Heh, bye sucker!
Can’t believe you fell for a cheap trick like that.
"Bye"? If you weren't aware, this is the Internet. It's not a physical place that you can just... leave. We're both still right here.
Is it really such a chore to introduce yourself? I'm only looking for a sentence or two, no more than what I gave you. Or is there something you're trying to hide?
Practice
Clover glanced up at the white clock mounted on the red brick wall, the one she spent some days practically fixed upon just waiting for some time to go by. But today had flown by somehow, it was time to leave already, in fact she had been there 3 minutes overtime. She ran to the back room, throwing off her apron and cap, slung her bag onto her shoulder, and quickly clocked out. She flew down the street as fast as her legs could carry her; she didn’t want to miss it.
Shortly arriving at the nearby music store, she gave a quick wave to the worker behind the counter who surely knew her well enough by now to be aware of where she was going, and shot to the door of the stairwell. Breathless, she leaned her back against it, sliding down slightly, disregarding the strap of her bag as it slid down her shoulder. Trying to breathe quietly — for she knew he could hear her if she gave into the heaving breaths her body needed to — she closed her eyes and listened.
Drowning out all else, she could just barely hear it. That ethereal series of notes her brother produced, a tune she knew well, for it was one of his favorites. Those delicate notes had calmed her down many times before, there were instances when Clover was quite grateful that her brother played such a soothing instrument. After a small while it stopped, and she took that as her cue. She stood up, fought the way that the door always stuck a little, and quickly descended the stairwell.
She ran over to Light and embraced him tightly. “It sounded great as always!” she said with a smile.
"Why did you stop, though…?" she asked quietly.
Quick footsteps echo from the floor above him in a familiar rhythm, stopping, Light judges, near the doorway at the top of the stairwell. Clover doesn't know it, but Light could recognize the sound of her footsteps anywhere, even at such a distance. Still, he humors her; knowing his sister takes great comfort in his music, he continues to play, focusing even more than usual on making sure every note comes out perfectly.
The particular melody he's playing now is a long-time favorite of his - of both of theirs. To this day, he doesn't know the name of it - he learned to play it strictly from memory - but hearing it played at a music festival was what had first sparked his interest in the harp. From time to time, the fact that he can never be sure if he's playing it exactly right weighs on him. But Clover seems to like the tune exactly as he plays it, and that's good enough for him.
Lost in thought, Light doesn't even notice that he's stopped playing until he hears Clover's footsteps descending the stairwell, heading straight for him. His pleasant smile only grows when she embraces him, and he wraps his arms around her in return. Typically, he's not one for hugs, but he can make an exception for his sister.
"Thank you, Clover," he says. Her praise could be taken as superficial, from one family member to another, but Light knows that she means it genuinely, and that warms his heart.
He chuckles lightly in response to her question. "To be honest, I hadn't even noticed I'd stopped. I suppose I was just lost in thought." He prays she won't question him any further than that. Disclosing his personal thoughts aloud has never been something he's particularly good at.
After a while he releases her, wishing to continue playing. But before he does, something occurs to him, and he scratches his chin in thought. "Say, Clover," he begins, "would you mind listening to something I've been working on? I can't tell if it's all flowing together well enough, and I could use a second pair of ears to judge, if you're not terribly busy."
I’d contend that I’m far above the “feeble-minded human” you speak of. Case in point: I’ve humored you for this long, and I’m sure any normal person would have stopped by now.
And, well, I have no idea who you are, but I know exactly who I am. Since I suggested the idea, we’re going by my perspective. You get to introduce yourself first.
Well. Aren't you a clever one.
If you insist, I'll introduce myself first. My name is Light, and I'm a musician and novelist from the United States. I have a sister named Clover - perhaps you know her?
Your turn.
Practice (for 4leavesofluck)
There's a quiet room in the basement of his favorite music store. It's cold, confined, smelling of dust and concrete - but it's far more comforting for him than plush carpets or soft grass, than an expansive room or a wide-open field, could ever be. This way, he knows he'll be able to hear the distinct sound of approaching footsteps on the hard flooring soon enough to prepare for...
Best not to let my thoughts go in that direction, he muses to himself. Now is a time for focusing on music, rather than on the not-so-distant past. Exhaling, he shifts his position on his stool - which, luckily, is much more comfortable than the concrete floor would be - and begins to play. Delicate fingers carefully dance across the strings of his harp, producing a tranquil, dreamlike melody. The sound is, quite literally, music to his ears, and a pleasant smile rests on his face as he plays.
He's grateful that the store owners let him use this room, because just in a few weeks it's become his favorite place to practice. The acoustics are surprisingly excellent, each note echoing softly off the walls - just enough so that he can hear it clearly without disturbing anyone else in the store. It's also private, secluded; very few people come down here on a regular basis, so his chances of being interrupted are slim.
Of course, there are some who know of Light's ideal practice room. But those are the people he doesn't mind interruptions from quite as much.
Time is relative, my dear Watson. I don’t think it makes any sense for us to talk in terms of “first”, “second”, “last”…
We should just go by the one that needs more explanation. That, of course, is you.
Perhaps it is, but we feeble-minded humans must use concepts such as "time" to simplify the world in order to understand it. ...If you claim to somehow be inhuman, however, I suppose I could make an exception.
Oh? And why is that? You seem quite a bit more mysterious to me. Though I suppose that's a matter of perspective.
