Not So Into The Size Of This Thing (Open)

[Monolilith]

Second time this week someone's been dropped unceremoniously into a large body of water. Maybe even the second time today. Not that he'd know, he's too busy contemplating his worthless life at the bottom of the lake.

Ultimately, one bewildered (and thus quite grumpy) Nero Cyedan emerges from the depths and sits on a forested shore, staring out over the massive waters. His lips twist, pucker and purse as he thinks, fingers making little swirls in the sand. After some time of this, he hangs his head with a soft sigh. Wonderful. He has no clue where he is, and Regina needs him, and he is most definitely alone. What is there to DO but improvise a song, continue his useless deep thought about what the hell just happened?

The case melts out of his shadow, and he doesn't even have to look to unlatch it and extract the precious, dry (to his sopping wet) instrument. He tucks it to his neck, tests each string, then begins a relatively serene tune. There's no reason to go into detail on how amazing it is, he's a Nokken, it's downright awe inspiring.

And it has latent magical properties. That draw people. 

It's been centuries, and still, he always forgets that part.

[ryocker]

A very sweet, innocent seeming girl in a green dress was waddling her way toward a food hut in the distance, huffing and puffing as her bright pink (and somehow floating in places) hair swayed with her run. "Mackenzie... said... she was... hoo..." She stopped her sentance short, gasping and bending forward before dusting off part of her dress. "Aw phooey... I'm too... tired," she gasped. The young girl didn't have time to think about that, though- an odd melody began to flow from the shore of the lake by her, causing the gal to lightly gasp.

"Pretty music..."

[Monolilith]

The music doesn't stop. As it goes, it becomes lighter, airier, almost like a folk dance melody. If one were to see the nix playing the music, they might notice even a soft smile on his face as he sways and bows subtly with the bow's movements.

No matter what, music is calming. It always soothes him, and it always distracts him. The violin he wields with grace today has kept him occupied all his life, from the loneliest of times to the most hectic. There are too many memories to name with every note, every pull - and he doesn't even need to remember them. It flows in and out. In fact, while playing is the only time he CAN let anything come and go. For that, if nothing else, it is precious.

So what if he can't pay attention to literally anything else?

[ryocker]

The girl trotted toward him, soon plopping on the sand and simply watching. Her eyes had a very aroused sparkle to them- like she was happily in her element. "You play good," she offered.

[Monolilith]

And of course he flinches so hard he almost drops his bow.

Jittery, he lowers the instrument and shakes his head out, then rests both implements in his lap to flex his fingers a bit. "By God. Uh... thanks?" He hadn't zoned that hard during a solo in years. Was he losing his touch? His eyes don't land on the listener just yet, instead skittering around the scenery.

[ryocker]

"My name's Penelope," she offered. "Who might you be?" Despite clearly being a young teen, the girl very clearly seemed quite childish.

[Monolilith]

His hands rest on his violin and bow, and he manages to look at her. A bushy brow goes up. "Uh. Nero. Nice to... meet you, I guess. Peeenelope."

[ryocker]

She smiled. "My friend Mackenzie told me that lots of people from lots of worlds congregate on this island! So... what kind of world do you live in?" He small tufts of cloud like extra hair bounced and swayed with the rest of her locks.

[Monolilith]

Theres a prolonged pause. "I... guess if it helps you quantify it? I have a smartphone and magic? Uh, lots of species, cities... political strife... yeah."

His voice is teetering between confusion, mistrust, and gruff ness at this point. His hands hold the instrument rather protectively.

[ryocker]

Penelope watched him, smiling. "Can you play other songs, Mr. Nero?" she asked. "Your first was really pretty!"

[Monolilith]

"... i can play a ton of songs."

He sounds almost offended, in that childish way. Of course he can play more songs, who does she think she IS, someone who doesn't play songs? He settles on the term 'miffed' and lets his eyes flick down to the precious cargo. Then... back to the girl.

He can never stay angry at kids.

"You wanna hear one? A real happy one?"

[ryocker]

Most people probably would have realized they had just said something very offensive to him... Not this teenager. "Oh, please! Pretty, pretty please!" she cheered, happily swaying and clapping in excitement.

[Monolilith]

He flicks his head to the side a bit, breathing out, to focus himself. Then he raises the violin and bow, and prays he can still do the thing where he sings and plays at once. A few cheerful rolls begin the song.

"Once in a while, in a long long while, a child will be born~
With an air so sweet with crooked feet, and they'll call her Diana Moore~

East-Terra border version? Okay. Okay.

"Well she grew to an age where her lovely face was treasured and adored~
But she packed her things, tied them up with strings, for a place called Ifreedor~"

His voice has the same gravelly quality as his voice, deep but rather soft. He goes for a simple harmony to the quick, bouncy melody, downtoning it as much as he can. He doesn't need too big a nostalgia rush. This is one of the songs that got Her Majesty's Dorks through - and if he can get away with riding the feeling WITHOUT the memories, he'll be golden.

[ryocker]

Penelope happily put her hands to her cheeks, huddling up and happily listening to the wondrous song he'd been playing for her. Her head gently swayed, her small, floating tufts of hair doing a bad job of following her legitimate movements. Whenever her eyes would open, she had the dreamiest expression.

[Monolilith]

Well. He just HAS to keep going, then.

"Hey, hey! Laugh and sing! Someone give her a diamond ring!

Poor, poor, Diana Moore! Lost in the land of Ipfredor!

Ho, ho, watch them go! Throwing wine and brandy-o!

And a raduda, raduda, raduda ra! Back to your home, Diana Moore~"

Like so. As he continues, he gets more settled into the rhythm, and into singing it alone. Generally, the verse would be passed around, lending a tale with different details every time. Everyone says Ipfredor different (is it Ipvreedor? Evridor? Ivri'dhar?) depending on where they're from, and depending on who's the most dramatic about how it's said someone else would giggle, and then they'd just all be giggling, and...

His playing falters, eyes going down. The words jumble a bit.