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.)


Comments
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...
...Focus, Edwyna. He's talking. This is Important.]
I understand, my lord. But... I don't mind it. Even if you're different, I still- [...Come on, you can say it. You can say it!] ...I still love you.
I can only hope you aren't disappointed. [It's not exactly high romance, but it's something. It's a start.]
It's alright. I trust you.
Come here...
He buries his hands in her hair, doing some significant damage to her pretty hairstyle, and leans his forehead against hers.]
I like it better down.
I'll keep it down from now on for you, then.
What do you want of me?
Wh-whatever you want, my lord! It's not... I mean... what I want isn't important...
It matters to me.
I... think you already know what I want...
And you shall have it.
Edited 2010-08-23 01:51 pm (UTC)
Gladly, my lord.