“When you play, never mind who listens to you.”

张艺兴 ⊰ ∮ ∯ ∰ ⊱ ___________¶¶________ _________¶¶¶¶¶_______ ________¶¶¶¶¶¶¶____ _______¶¶¶__¶¶¶____ _______¶¶___¶¶¶__ ______¶¶¶_¶¶¶¶____ _______¶¶¶¶¶¶____ ______¶¶¶¶¶¶____ ____¶¶¶¶¶¶______ ___¶¶¶¶¶¶¶________ __¶¶¶¶__¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶_____ _¶¶¶¶__¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶___ ¶¶¶¶__¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶__ ¶¶¶¶_¶¶¶¶¶¶¶___¶¶¶¶__ ¶¶¶__¶¶¶__¶¶____¶¶¶___ ¶¶¶¶__¶¶__¶¶¶___¶¶¶___ _¶¶¶¶_____¶¶¶__¶¶¶¶____ _¶¶¶¶¶¶¶___¶¶¶¶¶¶¶_____ ___¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶______ _______¶¶¶¶¶¶¶_______ ____¶¶¶¶¶¶__¶¶¶_______ ____¶¶¶¶¶¶¶_¶¶¶____ ____¶¶¶¶¶¶_¶¶¶____ _____¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶______ _______¶¶¶¶¶______

[sentixho]

(/Shuffles his feet in a tight circle, spinning with fists pressed tight to his ears as a group of boys tries to coax him to touch his tongue to a telephone pole. Upon receiving no such request, one of the bigger kids forms a snowball and lobs it in Seungho’s direction. It hits him squarely in the stomach and as he doubles over with a frightened cry, the harassers whoop and cheer before gathering their own packed spheres to continue the assault.)

[pianomaker]

Yixing walked the streets with a hand in his pocket as he looked over an order form that he was planning place that night for the shipment of new wood for the piano's he'd be making throughout the Christmas holiday and place them on sale. However.a frown rose to his lips as he noticed a few males seemingly mocking another that was falling into their rumble of bullying. His frown deepened as he noticed that the male who seemed  so hesitant to place his tongue on the pole wasn't moving to fight back either.

Just as one had launched another ice ball at him, Yixing had already moved in front of the defenseless male, a sigh pulling from his lips as the ice slowly melted against once of his favorite black shirts. He offered a few curses and a glare at the boys who had instinctively walked off, before turning to stare down at the male. "You shouldn't place your tongue on that pole. You may not see it again."

[pianomaker]

[fluffmugger]

Random fact of the day

“Blood is thicker than water”, when used in the context of family over friends, is in fact a wildly incorrect bastardisation.

The true, full quote is “The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,” and refers to relationships forged by choice holding deeper meaning than those of mere biology.

[gunsgunsgunsboobs]

[pianomaker]

Destination Uncertainty

The moon had grown large this night, sporting a faint orange tinge in hue. His eyes set on the glowing figure with a knowing smile, almost as if he were familiar with its presence. In a way, he really was.He had known the moon as his closest and best friends. It's light had shone bright with the knowledge of the many secrets he held. In his life, he had always lacked people he considered more than acquaintances due to the simple face that social wasn't a very fulfilled aspect in his life. He had often traded people for pianos and though he lacked the social skills, it was a decision that he had never regretted. 

Even now as he walked the midnight street, hand in pocket, he did wish or company of some sort. He had a craving for deep conversations, intelligent or not, but he found that those sort of talks between strangers was rare here. With his lack of plausible contacts, he found himself going out on walks to keep his mind and thoughts healthily  circulating. As he walked the streets, he smiled lightly at the young couples taht clung to each other helplessly and some even exchanged early gifts. It was odd actually. He'd never wrapped a Christmas gift before. His Christmases were almost always empty of friends. His family  and himself had always made the number three work, but they weren't always financially stable enough to afford presents. So Christmas, though a world known holiday, he found to be bland and just about as eventful as any other day. 

A few steps more and he finally arrived t his destination, a small smile pulling at his lips the moment he arrived at the twenty-four hour bookstore. After hours, he found this place as a sanctuary , often visit at the third hour of the morning when few littered the rooms. Nonetheless, there were always people inside, but it was the people that came past midnight that he desire to speak to. For some reason, he'd felt a sort of connection to those, but never had he acted upon his desire of speech. Instead, he did the same thing he always did. He ordered a white chocolate latte and seated himself near the window with a book on philosophy. His eyes looked up from the page to stare at the empty chair across from him. Perhaps one day it would be filled with someone's whose presence he treasured more than life. 

[pianomaker]

Would anyone like to plot, para, or interact?

[pianomaker]

[vidaentrepesadillas]

[pianomaker]

Beyond Midnight's Grace

[sugarluhan-archived]

  Hours felt like only minutes as the day flew by. Soon enough, Luhan was looking at the bright shades of the sunset while making his way to the swanky hotel where he’s meant to meet a client. It’s the same thing, a different day, there’s never much variation between them at all. It’s only afterwards when the deed is done, his fee has been paid, and a seemingly satisfied customer gone, that he notices that night had fallen. He’s very tempted to just lay there and sleep, but the room would probably be soon given away. So despite his aching muscles, Luhan lifts himself up and gets ready to leave. 

To say that this was an enjoyable experience… would be a lie. A literal pain in the rear despite feeling hurt all over. His career might even be the most sore of all, after all this time this was the most he could do. It won’t last forever and he knows this. He feels dehumanized at times, and really this was the most he does aside from school. A hobby besides sleeping, eating and watching movies certainly couldn’t hurt. Overall still disappointed in how he’s turned out despite what would be considered a successful night’s work, he pulls his coat on and starts down the hallway. It always feels like the staff and other hotel guests are staring him down, as if they know what he is, what he does, and what he was coming from. Hardly ever the case, but the smooth sound of music flowing from the hotel pianist’s fingers is the most comforting as he enters the lobby. It distracts him from his thoughts, drawing him in. Luhan wanders over to a seat nearby the piano, wanting to observe inconspicuously for a moment, he tells himself, before leaving. The pianist makes it look effortless, like even Luhan could do it which is saying something. It’s longer than just a moment that he watches and listens to the piano playing though, but he’s not watching the time. When he’s not just laying his head back against the chair, resting his eyes, he turns his attention over to the pianist without even thinking about the fact staring is rude, or he’s been sitting there for however long. Frankly, he doesn’t care either.

[pianomaker]

  A loud ringing assured his predictions, and as the sound came to an end, so did his playing. With a few pushes of a finger, the keys slowed to a haunting and addicting. For Yixing, he found it quite the suitable way to end the night. He was thankful for the lot that had stayed long enough to listen to his melodic banter. As they stood, he saw a few with smiles on their faces, and that's what made Yixing realize what he loved about the piano. No matter how bad of a day someone could have, the piano could cure all of that. Just a moment of listening and it could possibly brighten your day, and if it couldn't brighten it, it could definitely sympathize with it. Somehow, rather than sympathize, he'd grown to synthesize with it. the ke ys were like an extension of his fingers. Each tone an expression of his mood. He could make of it what he disired, and tell a story if he wished. Maybe in a way, he was a piano.

He stood from his seat, ofering a bright smile to the public just after he'd took a moment to check his watch and count how many hours he had left before being forced to bed by the silent hum of the night. He didn't mcuh like sleep. There was so much he could be doing, so much she could be learning. His favorite time of day was at three in the morning as it gave him enough time to collect his thoughts. In a way, it was his "me time". Sh aking his head a bit, she allowed his torso to bend at the waist in a curt bow before moving the mic to his height. "Hello, I am Zhang Yixing,a nd I do take requests to play at weddings, birthdays, or any other events. If you need me, please stop by Zhang's melody, and I will get you a time and date set up." He bowed once more before placing the lid over the piano keys and quickly making his way off the stage.

[pianomaker]

 I will be completely and utterly free tomorrow. 

[pianomaker]

Replies will be done tomorrow. MAMAs are tonight, and I need to catch up on two episodes of heirs, and this episode of Reign.

[sugarluhan-archived]

In the meantime, if someone would be so kind, please take a look through my pages and maybe put in a request here and there? My rent’s due soon!

♦ ♦ ♦

[pianomaker]

Series 1, Pt. 1: A deal of curious events

[cleanerxsoo-deactivated20150101]

  Ding. Ding. Ding.

A bell rang when she pushed the door of the restaurant open. The delicious scent of the food they prepared at the Italian restaurant escaped to the street while she exited the place. A scent that seemed to enchant a couple who was passing by, for they quickly made their way inside of it. Innocent or perhaps foolish people, those who went to delight their palate with the delicacies that were served. Yet they didn’t know that the restaurant where they so contently ate, was just a cover for a dirty and tainted business ran by a mafioso. A business which dispatched many men to the next life. A business which had soaked her hands in blood, because she was a part of it too.

If she put their mind to it, she could probably do any other type of job out there. It was too late though, Soojung was already too deep in it to escape, or at least that was what she constantly told herself when she thought about leaving. A thought that was completely unacceptable, the reason was because she wanted to continue her dead lover’s legacy. This was something he never asked of her and he would probably be sad knowing that she choose the road to perdition, but it was something that made her feel close to him; even if he wasn’t here anymore. 

'Enough sulking, I've finally visited the boss. Now I have the whole day to myself,' she told herself. Without looking back, she started walking aimlessly. Today was a good chance to explore that neighborhood, since she had never done so. The times that she had been to the restaurant, she only went and did what needed to get done then she left as rapidly as she could. Soojung didn't want to be associated with her boss or the restaurant, if something happened, they would take the fire.

After walking for a while, there hadn’t been anything interesting to see. She was about to give up, but that was when she noticed the shop. Surely, it cached her eye very fast, hesitantly she stepped closer and saw the ‘open’ sign. Slowly she opened the door and peeked her head inside, just like a child would. After deciding that it was worth her time, she pulled the whole door open and walked in. Dark hues scanned the shop, and carefully looked with a small smile on her rosy lips.

[pianomaker]

  Lids that had fallen closed immediately opened up at the gentle bell installed to let him know when customers entered and left.  His playing came to an slow halt, allowing himself to finish the ending parts of the song as he'd wanted. Needless to say, the piano was in perfect condition and tuning, another piece of work well done if he could say so himself. He hoped that he hadn't seemed as if he were ignoring the customer's presence, but he took his time to replace the bench, and  close the lid.

He stood from his spot and turned to greet the customer with a warm smile. With his hands locked behind his back, he stepped toward her, examining and remembering her every feature from her carnation pink lips to the slightly taller-than-average height she sported. Her brown eyes held a sort of distant warmth in them he failed to place, but somehow, they reminded him somewhat of himself. 

He had no desire to scare her away with his creepy and stalkerish bouts of staring, so he tore his eyes away from her with a short glance at the shop's sign. "Hello and welcome to Zhang's Melody, is there something I can help you with? We provide handmade pianos as well and   performances and music for events." He offered the store's main services, hoping that she'd be his first customer. While ea few had asked for his playing at certain cafes or hotels, he had yet to actually sell a piano. Several had come down to see, but they had expected to find keyboards rather than the traditional instrument.

This "electronic" era had almost saddened Yixing. He was a person that  treasured pianos and many old or antique items. How one could step away from the real grand piano for a knock-off electronic replacement? Sure, he'd admit that the synthesizer and keyboard had a mill ion uses. They could play almost any instrument with the touch of a key, but when did the keyboard version of an electric guitar sound like the real thing? Beats him. Either way, he'd keep his comments to himself, and unconditionally hope that this person had come here for a piano rather than something else.

[pianomaker]

Beyond Midnight's Grace

Aches, pains, and numbness.  The sun which had risen unusually bright that morning as Yixing recalled had long faded into the darkened indigo people called the night sky. He would have liked to have seen every moment of the sunset. The way the soft blue would slowly and surely lighten to a calming white. The white would only last moments--barely noticeable, really--before the yellow reigned over the new palette, emerging into a gorgeous splendor of reds and pinks much like an ugly duckling became a swan. The sky was no ugly duckling, however.

Unfortunately, the male had spent his time at this hotel simply playing continuously for the hotel guest's that seemed to pay his skills little to no attention. His muscles were aching from the constant position he'd been forced to maintain while doing so. His fingers would very soon cramp up. He coudl tell by the way the relaxed and subtle bend he'd given them when first settled had crept up little by little into a position he wouldn't even deem worthy of the piano. 

Fortunately, he could not feel these hardships. His mind had long since forgotten about the uncomfortable pain he'd been dealing with and soon replaced it with focusing on making sure he would get the notes down just right. When it got really bad, he played on a limb, only hoping that he wouldn't strike a key too hard or too soft, too fast or too slow. The clock settled before his eyes quickly told the time, despite being antique and analog. It was only minutes until midnight would hit the night, and his service to the place would be over. At the moment, the only desirable thing on his mind was the warm bed that awaited him in his small apartment and away from this crazy place. For an expensive place, it sure does get a lot of visitors... Soon, he thought. Just minutes.

[pianomaker]

Series 1, Pt. 1: A deal of curious events

It was a shame that a majority of people hated their work, but Yixing could only attribute that to their reasons for going into that work. Some did it for money, some for fame, other even out of peer pressure--the point being, few went into careers they enjoyed. It was a pure shame. The satisfaction of looking at a beautifully finished job and thinking I did that, and I love it. Many would never experience it. Some only in their later years of life.

Yixing was the opposite. He adored his work. When in China he could remember being asked on dates a few times or so in high school, only to reject the hopeful souls with a simple sentence. "I can't. I'm working tonight." When he thought about it, he'd never really been on an intimate outing with any friends of acquaintances. He spent most of his days on the piano, and it was then he started his career. He felt the need to know how it worked, how it functioned. What made the instrument so beautiful? He continuously assemble and reassemble the percussion instrumental to get his own feel of how each little part came together. He often wrote his own notes, correcting them through erasing, rewriting, reviewing, scrapping...all until the day he was called to action.

A close family friend had spent their money buying a cheap poorly made piano for their daughter only to find that the good was damaged. Highly. Yixing spent a month on that piano in attempt to fix it. It was a hard worked month, but in the end...he could guarantee it was in better condition and of better quality than when it was first made.

Needless to say, pianos and himself were a match made in heaven, which would explain the overwhelming excitement he'd been forced to stifle through his tone as he was told that the night's gig would remain cancelled. That meant more time to his shop, and less time in front of rich people who couldn't care less about what they were hearing while gossiping about the latest stocks. Making his way to the front door, he changed the "closed" sign to "open", and made his way to a nearby piano he needed to test.

[pianomaker]

I'm sorry for not having the starters out yesterday. It was busier than expected, but they'll be out  by the end of the night. Promise.

[dimplay]

2 / - throwback edits