[IC] Play a duet with the character above you 🎵

"Eh? Eh? Eh?"

It seems like the elderly Persian had decided to come out of his deep sleep to approach Brown. This time, the woman was paying no attention to him! He was not going to let her off easily.

As each note sounded from the piano that Brown was playing, Gnocchi sped up the speed of his shuffling until he jumped on the seat next to her. He watched her hands intently, hoping that the pair of palms would shift over to the cat's cheeks. When this subtle attempt at gaining attention failed, he raised his front paws and set them on the keys.

Bang, bang. The jarring noise that suddenly screeched from the piano did not faze the older cat. He then clambered on top of the piano, attempting to walk directly in front of Brown's hands. Bang, bang, bang. The cat had finally gained her attention, rewarding himself by rubbing his squashed face underneath the woman's chin.

"Eh!" the cat squeaked, blinking slowly as his scrunched up nose sniffed at her hands.

With (slight) tipsy passes, Roswell stepped through his apartment. He held Gnocchi in his arms, (like Zinnia had teached him not so long ago).
His old and dusted gramophone played a distorted tune. Some parts of the music faltered and creaked but it didn't bother good old Roswell. He had drank enough whisky to not care anymore. With his breath, reeking from cheap alcohol the old thief sang along with his LP.
"Aan de Drakenburgse Grachten-" a twist on his feet. He lifted the Persian cat higher in his arms, "-heb ik heel m'n hart voor altijd verpand" Roswell 'sang' along with the song and fantasy!Wim Sonneveld (_{don't look it up its horrible!!}).
To his delight the cat yelped back. Was it a yipping out of joy? A attempt to sing along? Or was it the cry of a cat that desperately wanted to be released.
Roswell interpreted it as the fun, and a sing along. A duet! So he didn't stop, in the contrary...

The leidsman almost tripped over his romance novels that were scattered in his place. The cat still secured in his hands. "Drakenburg vult mijn gedachten," another twist on his feet. "als de mooiste stad in ons land." 
Poor Gnocchi. The old man's attempt at singing just didn't stop. The aggravating 3/4 measured waltz praising the most crime infested city in Krettwick kept on going and going.  "La-la-la-," Roswell's voice slurred with alcohol. The cat chirped back.

"Yer knows," he told the cat still in his arms. "Yer pretty good singer, did yer know that?" It wasn't really hard to be a better singer then Roswell though. 

--
Me pointing at En: I love him.

Roswell frowned from the 'sound' En made. He relexed the harmonica and grinned. Void! At least Roswell wasn't alone in sounding horrible. Roswell scrambled from the small chest he'd had siting on while playing his trusty but also kind of horrible harmonica, and hopped over to the king of Sirens. 

Roswell wrapped his arm around his..friend's shoulder and blow a single unclear tune (those poor poor guards) on his harmonica while backing up En's 'song' with well his own.
"La la la!" He sang, horrible of key. Producing a sound only crows could admire. Before playing the same note ágain on the harmonica. It became the duet of the two most horrible singers imaginable.

If only Xander could see them now.

"Listen, Ros, I know I told you I'm the king of sirens, but I also told you I was exiled for being terrible at music, right?" En pressed, worry clear on his face. He looked around. It was just outside of the castle, so the only ones around were guards and staff. Didn't mean they wouldn't get offended after hearing him sing.
He looked back at the thief when he heard harmonica music. Roswell didn't seem to understand the weight of his title or his problem. En bit his lip then sighed, "Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you." With a deep, shaky breath, he sang.

"Do re mi fa so la ti dooo!"

Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled in unity, but even it was more in tune than the king.
En hunched over, clearly embarrassed while trying to hide his bright red face. He glanced around, spotting some stunned guards, before quickly looking away. "See? I told you I wasn't very good," he whispered to Roswell. After a moment, the thief seemed to sing himself! And he... wasn't good either! En slowly straightened up. Was Roswell singing to cheer him up? A small smile crept up on his face, and he "sang" along with him.

Heads up, En sucks at everything music so good luck!

En supposed he should have expected people to want to play music with him, considering his title and his race, but-- Nelum commented on how nervous he looked, to which he nodded sheepishly. "I'm not exactly the best singer," he laughed nervously before being handed a drum. O-Okay! A drum! It'd... It'd be easier, right? There was no melody or harmony, only rhythm! He could do this!
BONK!
He couldn't do this.
He wasn't sure how he did it, but he somehow made a noise that was and wasn't a typical drum's noise. He tried again. It was... It was like he was inventing new sounds! Oh! He got so distracted he'd forgotten the beats! Umm... Okay, one, two-- W-Wait, he was a little la-- Oh God, he didn't start that measure right! Was there a beat three??
Despite his audible panic, Nelum seemed to be covering it nicely with his voice. And he did have a special voice. It was truly one of a siren's, spectacular and enriching, a monument to his life and his blood. En was sure his siren group would adore Nelum's voice, just as he himself did.

"Hm? Have we met before? You seem very familiar..." He laughs that little laugh he does. Though his mind is already made up, he pretends to contemplate his options, looking the other up and down for just a moment. That flicker of recognition doesn't quite die, though he doesn't comment on it. "I'll sing, if that's alright." Polite phrasing was a formality- the man in front of him seemed very obviously out of his element. "You look pretty nervous, something wrong?" He spoke lightly, letting the jab hang in the air for just a moment before shooing it away. "Kidding, of course! Hmm.. you could sing too. Or...  is this is a drum? How about this?"

Without waiting for an answer, he hands the instrument to En, and looks just slightly expectant. What he gets in return isn't quite a beat, nor is it even, but it's a few points short of acceptable. He can work with it, at least. Sort of. Nelum opens his mouth, and his song is beautiful, and something other than the drum sounds wrong about it; it's otherworldly in an unsettling way, so sweet as to be sickening- but he looks genuinely happy for those few moments.  

_{extremely late little followup bc im trying to commit to writing those- switching to past tense because i'm not sure why i wrote the previous in present tense? past me explain,,} 

"Oh, I have a reputation, do I?" He laughed that same laugh, more a form of punctuation than an actual expression. It said plenty of things that wouldn't ever be obvious- you really have no clue, do you, it said, at least to Nelum. He really did enjoy singing, and was keenly aware of his own skill, but there wouldn't ever be a part of him that wouldn't question the legitimacy of such compliments. 

He watched the dance as he sang, curious as to what kind of dance one did to- anything he sung, really. More often than not, human (he assumed) companions and audiences became dinner instead, so this was a rare sight indeed.  More than that, though, M. Pourife was surprisingly adept, though the siren's knowledge of dance was very, very limited. The scientist looked like he might fall in, actually - an easy meal for someone lurking below, or perhaps something (Nelum corrected the thought).

It came as a bit of relief when the other man didn't fall in, though. "Oh, you were pretty good!" He would have said that regardless, though he did mean it, and just as genuine was his next statement. "That was fun." 

ignore me, gonna just drop a revival bump here 

*sandwiches Pourife between two magic singers sandwich Pourife between-*

While Nathaniel and Salvador's occultic powers were destructive, straight forward, Xander's powers were more. Subtitle. Influential. Strange.
Xander's bare fingers plucked the strings of his lute. Warm and acoustic. Familiar. Like coming home after a long day at work. A childhood memory. A lit fireplace in a tavern. Warm honeyed milk. Comfort.
But also...Eerie in someway and crystal clear. Too honeyed. The edges too soften. That was one way to describe it, cloying. 'Louder'.
A sirens song.
The world could fall apart around you, or more likely in Drakenburg: thieves could rob you blind, and you wouldn't hear a thing. As these brimmed tones where mesmerizing. Captivating.
The only thing your mind could focus on. Like an extra layer, on top of reality.
Dangerously beautiful.

Xander played the strings. Bewitched in his song. The Void buzzing in his fingers, stirring in his heart. He would almost forget that his friend was listening. Almost. He smiled at him. Xander's voice was as warm melting butter over the already warm tones, as he finally spoke: "Would you care to sing with me, my good friend?" He chuckled at M.Pourife. His fingers still plucking the chords. "Just for fun," he added. "I don't mind if you're a bit rusty, it's all just in good favor," Xander added.
Just like the music, there was something in this request that made it hard to ignore.
Soft but oh so clear.
Xander's powers weren't 'mind-controlling' perse, but..Close.
He smiled. Xander's spellbound fingers not failing once, as he started to sing himself. Soft and the gentle warm smile clearly hearable in his slightly altered tunes. The words of an old Krettwickian lullaby. A cradle song, so hauntingly beautiful that it Blou's, who has huddled close to her owner, feathers raise up. She expectantly stared at M. Pourife. Hoping the other human would join in too.

After a while, Xander abruptly stopped his fingers. As roughly woken up from a dream, the soft fabricated song fall apart. A cold feeling crept over Xander and made his hands sweaty. The Half grimaced. "Oh Void, my friend-" he said. Shoving the lute away. "Im sorry, I let myself go," Xander stared at his hands, clenching them into fists, "I..i didn't mean too, use my powers like that.."

--

I crie about these two

Honk honk, claiming fizz

"Okay, so, like this?" Zinnia inquired, pointing the neck of the lute upwards and plucking a finger against one of the strings. After pausing to listen to the elder party, she adjusted the instrument on her lap

"This is, heh, this is kind of hard to get used to," Zinnia chuckled, continuing to brush her finger against the instrument's strings.

"Uhm, how about another scale?" She asked, tilting her head upwards and batting her eyelashes. After pausing to listen to him him for the first time, she attempted to replicate the notes that he made, furrowing her eyebrows upon messing up a few notes. After making another attempt, Zinnia let out an exhale as soon as she messed up again. Beginning to feel more embarrassed, Zinnia felt her shoulders tense up and forced a grin whilst she shifted in her spot.

"Here, no, let me—let me try again. Can you... repeat the thing?"

Violin kid? Ah. Xavier sits down at the piano while Aimeé checks her tuning.

"I'm afraid my own classical repertoire is a little limited, I'm more of a jazz man myself," he gives a little chuckle, though whatever jest is in there falls flat for Aimeé. Ah. Really not much of a talker, then. Xavier runs his fingers up the keys, playing a sprawling ascending lick more to see how in (or, out of) tune this old piano was than anything else. "But that's just fine." The last note hangs tentatively, and his muscle memory compels him to launch into some old jazz standard. He resists the urge.

"Why don't you go ahead and play one of your favorites? I can play around you." Or, if that failed, there was always the fallback plan of a simple twelve-bar. There was no way to come out of that any worse for wear. "It'll be fun," he tries to reassure. Her silence does not fill him with hope. So shy. Poor thing. Xavier doesn't blame her. He can't relate, but he doesn't blame her.

Eventually, Aimeé starts. A little tentative at first, but the music works its spell soon, calming her. Xavier listens carefully--it's not a song he recognises, something a little mournful. Pretty. Did she write this? Whatever, he can follow along--at first just playing some basic chords but quickly finding his place in the piece. Always hanging back, letting Aimeé take the floor, so to speak. She plays decently for a fourteen-year-old, he supposes. He's certainly shared stages with worse musicians than her--he has to remind himself not to keep overthinking the music so much. Just let the girl's violin sing its song.

He's. Not very hip with kids, it turns out. But damned if he's not a passable session pianist.

--

Xavier's down to try and play anything, and could probably fake it convincingly on any unbowed string instrument, but he specialises in bass guitar, keyboard, and singing--it's up to you!

Summer allowed her lips to curl into a frown at the cross woman who towered in front of her. Summer thought that she was giving those fossils some extra TLC—though, in reality, she was licking the glass that was separating the two—yet, the confusion set in upon hearing the woman speak. With her eyebrows doing a mix of cocking and furrowing, Summer hesitantly followed the elder party, the pads of her fingers pressing together as she allowed her eyelashes to flutter.

As the two trudged down the hall, Summer tilted her head upon hearing the elder party hum. She allowed her ears to twitch rapidly, continuing to listen to her before tilting her head back in front of herself. Then, in an more delayed fashion, Summer began to him along. She didn't care if she was extremely inaccurate or if she interrupted the older woman. Summer liked the song Brown was humming, and she wanted to mimic it as best as she could.

Let the guitar music begin.

Virgil was enjoying the peaceful sound of the forest, gently strumming his acoustic guitar as his long black wispy tail flowed softly in the breeze. Throughout the forest the instruments peaceful tune seemed to catch the interest of all the wildlife nearby. Several clusters of birds sat in the tree branches above the man, a couple of sparrows landed nearby him, with one landing on his shoulder. He smiled and continued to play, being half lost in his own musical world. His ears twitched as he heard someone approach, he tilted his head slightly and stopped playing.

"Hey kiddo, what are you doing out here?" He asked softly, when Summer pointed at his guitar he gave a nod of understanding. "Ah....you liked the music?" After seeing Summer nod he smiled. "Well, I best keep playing then huh?" He said before continuing to play, as Summer softly hummed along as best as she could with the music. 

------------------------

Birdnerds FTW :D

Follow up:

A cat and a werewolf. What a fantastic duo the two made. The birds that normally flocked around Virgil knew what up. The ones that could fly has moved to a safe distance, in the trees nearby, the one the boy was nursing and thus unable to fly were huddled close against him. Their big pinhead-eyes focus on Jack. Uncomfortable the older man rubbed his arm and scratched the bite marks left on his lower arm.
"I mean, the forest is beautiful right now hu? The rising sun, the autumn leaves," Jack said to break the silence that lingered in between them like a thick blanket. He shuffled as to make himself more comfortable on Virgil's porch.
"Oh maybe we're in time for the starlings," he said. As he pressed his hands on his knees. Every winter starlings migrated from further north to settle here, in the lower areas of the pine tree forest. 

And they were on time. As soon as the first light of day broke through the grey dark clouds, Jack could hear them. The chattering and wings of hundreds of small birds. If he focused enough, he could hear their small hearts. Beating exhaustedly. They skimmed to the air, like fish trough water. There were hundreds of them, and never did their wings even touch each another. It was like a balet. Perfect in harmony. The new starlings mixed flawlessly with Virgil's nursed birds on the tree branches. The two bird lovers pointed at them and discussed the journey the birds had made. You know...Like Birdnerds. When, quite unexpectedly, Virgil grabbed his guitar. He wanted to play them a song. Jack agreed. This small beast had traveled for days on end, no food. Only the urge of moving south had driven them and now, they finally arrived at their new home. Here. 

"You're okay with me joining?" He asked Virgil. He patted the small hand harp that hangs on his side. Jack was a starting harp player and never attend to be one at that. The violin would be his main choice, but Jack was too scared to get confronted with the sharper tones of that instrument. It reminded him too much of home.
So, handharp... It was Mary's, from a long time ago. But she wouldn't mind him playing it. Right?

--

Jack plucked one of the strings with his finger and shrugged. "You know me by now Rochester," he said. "Of course I want information about those hunters. I won't be surprised if they tracked down your snail's trail. Hey now, don't throw Spot under the bus!
Jack frowned his gaze dipping away from Spot to his instrument. "I'm not the best either," he confessed. Giving the wood of the hand harp a soft pet. "But I can try." His nose wrinkled as soon as Rochester suggested his 'work'.
"Of course I've got a passion," he snapped at her. "At least I can do something, good with this," he caught himself on time and bit down on his lower lip. Then made some vague hand gestures before snorting. "Forget it. I"m trying to do good, that's all you need to know."
Jack sniffed. "I'm not just going to give her up. I'm the only one in this entire village that's looking for her. Everyone else declared her dead and forgotten." Jack plucked the string of the hand harp. Letting the instrument make a humming noise.

"Don't push that little slug too far, I don't want him to get a stroke or something," Jack half teased, half meant it. Spot looked like he could implode any second and to be honest? Jack found that rather relatable. "But yes.. Maybe a balled makes him slightly less tense around me."