(2018-09-02) It's the Arts
It's the Arts
Summary: Taká is blessing, Besa is observing, Ashton is playing.
Date: 2018-09-02
Related: None
Scene Runner: NA

Taká does take up a lot of room just to practice calligraphy, but the way he practices it sometimes requires a lot of room.
Hanging before him are four large strips of paper, each about a meter by nearly half a meter, arranged in a sort of pinwheel, two vertically and two horizontally. He hasn't written anything on them in any language. Instead, Taká's just standing there studying them, three un-inked feathers clutched in his right hand, one between each pair of adjacent fingers.
Taká himself is clad only in his simplest gray kilt; his black top is neatly folded over the back of a chair some distance away, with his sandals on the seat. He doesn't look like he's concentrating especially hard… more just waiting for the right moment, whatever that might be.

Besa has been having a strange hiding and seeking kind of day. So when he steps into the door with Cocoa and sees Taká he stops. There's a soft smile as he watches his friend prepare to make art. Instead of disturbing him, he leans against the doorframe and watches.

Slowly, deliberately, Taká dips the feathers into an ink pot, and begins writing in a rich butterscotch yellow, starting at the outer end of the rightmost sheet and filling in characters towards the center. Whatever he was writing fits the sheet perfectly; Besa has of course seen Taká's native writing before.
Almost without pausing, the feathers go into another inkpot and the little birdman flits into the air, writing down the length of the upper vertical sheet as he slowly descends. Since he hadn't removed the yellow, it starts off greenish and is a rich sky blue by the time he reaches the center.
Another inkpot, and now writing left to right on the other horizontal sheet, again finishing at the center, the color ending a sharp red with dark undertones. The last, predictably, is from the bottom up, and the color is a midnight indigo by the end of the writing.
And then, to close the circle, he very lightly traces over the first yellow character with the still-indigo feathers, and steps back with a satisfied exhalation.

Besa's smile grows, clearly happy for his friend. He waits till he's away from the ink and paper. His voice is soft. "That is beautiful, Taká. What does it mean?" Cocoa's sitting next to Besa, her tails wagging gently.

Slow to respond, Taká blinks his eyes a couple times as if coming to himself out of a dream. "nnh… ash'tái?" It's a question, but not much of one.
And then his eyes focus, and he breaks into a smile when he sees who it is. "Oh! Kié, Besa tavár'h. This is… how do I explain this? It's a prayer offering for a new home. I suppose the new school and new dorm counts, so I figured I should prepare one." He glances down at himself. "I'm sure the Gods will forgive the shortcuts I had to take, given the circumstances."

Besa smiles again. "We need to start teaching each other our languages, yes?" He's leaning against the doorframe, but pushes off. Cocoa follows him into the Arts Room. "That is lovely. Will you hang it in your dorm, or the common's room?" He moves to go sit at a table. "I am sure your gods will understand." The ancient teen looks tired, but that's becoming a norm for him.

After finishing up from dinner, Ashton was feeling a little on the stressed side. Were he home, he would be sitting behind his baby grand. Alas, he is not at home, nor does he have a baby grand to play on, but the school does have an upright, which is what brought him to the art room. When he enters and sees that there are already some students here, he pauses. Offering his friend and his roommate a friendly smile: "Hey, guys… um… would it bother you if I made use of the piano?"

"Oh, no," Taká says with an odd pride. "I will take it up on the roof and burn it. It's an offering to the Gods, so I have to deliver it to them, so to speak. Uh, the school won't mind me burning something on the roof? Controlled burn, not just lighting it and wandering away from it."
Before he even turns to look, he raises and waves inky feathers in greeting. "Kié, Ashton. No, I won't mind," he says, then starts rinsing his calligraphy feathers out.

Besa looks over, smiling at Ashton. "Hello my friend. Of course. Please." He's not actually heard the other play a piano before. Turning back to Taká: "Oh! That sounds wonderful." An offering to the gods! "I do not think so. We can clean it up afterwards."

Ashton walks over to where the other two boys are before making his way to the piano. He offers both of them a small, but very friendly smile. "I would think as long as there was no threat to the building, that they wouldn't mind… just burn, whatever it is you need to burn in something to contain the fire… and have an extinguisher readily available in case it happens to be needed."

Taká nods once at the advice. "It will be a small fire, and I think there's a fire pit or grill or something up there anyway. I should ask first, Ashton, it will not offend your beliefs if I do a home blessing over our room? I know my Gods are not the same as the ones worshipped on Earth."

Besa settles in the chair, sighing softly as his runs fingers through his hair. "I will help you if needed, Taká." Dark eyes study the prayer before he turns back to Ashton. "What will you play? Something nice, yes?" He takes a moment to study the not-Ares. "I feel as if we have not spoken much lately. I have not seen Loukanos either."

Ashton smiles and shakes his head. "I appreciate you asking, Taká. I really do. It would not offend me at all. The room is half yours after all. Besides, I don't really practice a religion, so it would not offend me, even if weren't. Please feel free." He glances at the piano, then over to Besa. "I'm not sure what exactly you mean by nice… I'm feeling a little morose, so I was thinking something a little brooding and dark, maybe Rachmaninoff…." He nods, "Yeah I know… it seems like a lot of our little group has drifted further apart… I haven't really seen as much of Loukanos as I would like… and I probably see him more than you."

Taká bows, spreading his wings slightly. "Thank you," he says, collecting his sandals and lacing them up. "I think I've learned the ways of this world well enough by now, but it's still a matter of just a couple years here versus the whole rest of my life there." He drapes his top around his shoulders and wanders over towards the piano. "So please don't hesitate to tell me if something I'm doing is too weird for you. There's still a lot of things I take for granted that I know I shouldn't."

"Sometimes morose is nice. If it soothes the mood." Besa's been feeling morose at times lately. "Let us make time then, Ashton. I would that very much. I have been meditating much lately." As Taká gets dressed, he turns away to look over at his kick wheel. So many memories to make there. There's already a few mugs on the drying rack. "This year is going to be very different."

Ashton smirks slightly, trying to imagine something being too weird after the last year. "I will, Taká, if something is too weird, but I don't really see that happening. Though I'm sorry if my difficulties sleeping bother you too much… I have been trying to make sure to take my sleeping pills before bed every night…." He looks over to Besa, before he puts his hand on the ancient teen's shoulder. "Definitely… I have missed some of our late night talks up in the attic."

Besa tenses, he didn't know that Ashton took sleeping pills. That's what started Sky's issues. He swallows, hand raises to rub his chest. When he's touched he snaps out of it and looks up at Ash. "There is no attic here, we will have to find a new place to meet, yes?" A soft smile of offered up.

"It hasn't bothered me. I hadn't even noticed, really," Taká says, studying the piano keyboard with not much comprehension. "I'm a pretty sound sleeper, especially now that we have more reasonably sized rooms that look out on air rather than water."

Ashton grins and nods. "Well, I'd say the commons between the Metis and Prometheus rooms, but doesn't really have the whole secluded vibe." He looks to Taká. "Good… if ever there is a problem… Loukanos can generally get me out of my nightmares…." He moves and sits down behind the keyboard and starts playing Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto Number 2, opus 18. There is no sheet music in front of him, it's like he just instinctively knows the music.

Besa flashes the birdman a smile, he knows he and Rain were both vey happy about the location of the school. A nose wrinkle and he nods. "Yes. It is not very …out of the way. We shall have to keep looking." He has an idea, but the others might not like it so much.

Taká watches Ashton's fingers move over the keyboard, and to be truthful, he looks utterly baffled. Occasionally he blinks, mildly startled, like the music went in a direction he didn't expect.
After a moment, he raises and looks at his own hand — three fingers and a thumb — and shakes his head with a small smile. "I can't tell if that's supposed to be sad or defiant," he says quietly, not wanting to interrupt more than the absolute minimum necessary.

Ashton grins as he plays. "A little bit of both… Rachmaninoff battled depression for most of his life…." He allows himself to slip into the music for a moment, before he opens his blue-green eyes. "I have a feeling that I will be slipping up onto the roof or something quite a bit, not wanting to keep Taká up on those nights that I can't sleep at all."

Besa stills as the music starts, his own expression shifting to match the tone of the music, something between sad and defiant. Taká's right. Cocoa's ears perk, but she leans into Besa's leg, maybe sensing something. The ancient teen's hand stays on his chest, although he's not pressing it to his heart for now. Powerful music like that brings emotions. Emotions and choices to light. Sometimes it's not what the listener wants, but it is what happens. A few blinks of his eyes, as he tries to come out of whatever past memory. "I… yes… the… the roof." He takes a deep breath, raising his hand to rub his face.

"Anything I can do to help you too, Ashton, just ask," Taká offers. "Nightmares are something my people try to handle quickly… of course, we're telepathic with each other, which means like as not someone suffering from them will share them with their family. Don't worry about waking me up if you need to."
He glances at Besa, who seems to be quite affected by the music. "Are you all right, Besa-tavár'h?"

Ashton looks up at Taká and nods. "Thank you… but not really too keen on sharing what's going on in my head… and trust me, you'd probably be happier that way too." When Taká asks about Besa's state of being, he stops playing. Concern for the ancient teen, Ashton cants his head slightly, waiting on his answer to Taká.

Face rubbed, Besa clears his throat, glancing down at Cocoa. Who is being the best dog ever. "I am, Taká, thank you. Sometimes… past memories… come back." Whatever it was, he seems shaken and starts to stand up. He forces a smile. "I… I think some air would be good." Cocoa stands to follow him. "You should finish, Ashton. It is very good. Let Taká hear the whole piece. Come, Cocoa." And he'll head for the door, most likely heading outside right away.

Taká waves to Besa as he leaves, and turns his attention back to Ashton and the piano. Sad and defiant… then reflective… then… hopeful? He keeps looking like he's on the edge of interrupting again, but ultimately doesn't. "So many emotions, with so limited a scale," he finally says, very quietly. "Could you let me know the next time you're going to play? I think I would like to hear more. It might even help me finally understand this world a little better."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License