Are there any musicians here? It has been too long since I was able to enjoy a performance. I would like to hear a song from your world. If you will indulge me, I will share one from mine.
[If any of those musicians (or anyone else) happens to be around house #47, they might hear some quiet flute music from that house's porch. Sigmund is mostly just playing for himself, but if anyone stopped by to listen, he'd play louder for them. He's in an unusually good mood, barely even a hint of his usual morbidity or ill humor. What could possibly be causing that?]
(OOC: Sigmund's AU needs no linked explanation. He did not disappear in a blaze of idiotic glory. That's really all you need to know.)
[If any of those musicians (or anyone else) happens to be around house #47, they might hear some quiet flute music from that house's porch. Sigmund is mostly just playing for himself, but if anyone stopped by to listen, he'd play louder for them. He's in an unusually good mood, barely even a hint of his usual morbidity or ill humor. What could possibly be causing that?]
(OOC: Sigmund's AU needs no linked explanation. He did not disappear in a blaze of idiotic glory. That's really all you need to know.)
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chasethestars
chasethestars
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If it bothers you, I'll change immediately.
So with a smile she lifts her head, gazing at the sky.] What were you playing, my lord?
[Remember Capell? His son? He thinks it would do her well to be reminded that the man she's leaning against is old, with a son her age. The attention is flattering - it always has been - but...]
He's an excellent musician.
Yes. I am... very proud of him.
He's done great things with the Force.
...Still... I'm glad it's you who's here, now.
...We should go inside.
...Of course, my lord. Anything you want.
He grabs his flute, heads for the door, and stops dead right inside it. They stay in the main room, Katie might still see, but adjourning to one of their rooms would be... and he's still not entirely sure he wants to encourage that line of thought. So he blocks the doorway instead.]
My lord?
[And that's where he's going, his room, with the two armchairs tucked away in the corner. He has a feeling he's going to be giving his priorities some serious thought soon. At least until then, he can count on the relative safety of separate chairs.]
Have you thought about what you're doing? [He has to ask, at least.]
People can change.
My lord... you no longer want me...?
Sigmund knows he's not good at this, but it isn't as though he's actively trying to hurt her. He reaches over to tuck her hair behind her ear. He's doing his best, alright?]
That isn't what I meant.
So what did you mean?
As long as you realize that...