Bai Shen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hanginginthere) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
interstellar55552015-12-14 08:39 am
hanginginthere) wrote in interstellar55552015-12-14 08:39 am
Entry tags:
and i've been searching for something so undefined
Who: Bai Shen and YOU~
What: Shen tries to deal with his trauma by doing what hethinks he remembers doing pre-Virgo.
When: December 15-20th, evenings. Ish.
Where: Vista City's boardwalk.
Warnings: References to I Will Twist The Knife & its events [violence, death, etc]. Trauma.
He's exhausted.
Mentally and physically, Bai Shen feels at the end of his rope; past the point of exhaustion, really, this is an overwhelming numbness that leaves only so much room to feel sorry for himself. Much less others. He moves almost like a machine, following directions without spirit or substance, and making only the most paltry attempts to practice.
Which in itself is off; he's always so focused on the improvement. Then again, considering recent events, paired with how everybody must no doubt think of him...
One night, though, he creeps out of the penthouse. Taking a slightly different style than normal, he keeps his head down and the large case on his back like a shield to block him from sight and notice. It's heavy, but he's used to bearing its weight; didn't he plenty of times, before being recruited for VIP?
All of this is familiar to him. Walking the streets, getting a few odd glances as people try to figure out if he's a boy or a girl (or something else entirely), hopping on the bus to get a ride to the boardwalk. If anyone does have a suspicion of who he is, they keep it to hushed whispers; maybe it's his somber attitude that creates the much-needed space, or maybe it's his face, very much disinterested in anything that's going on around him. (Maybe they hate him.) Maybe it's the way he clings to the synth's case as though it's the only thing he has in the world, which is...not far from true.
Eventually, he arrives. The boardwalk is a busy place, but it's a little lighter tonight; that's fine with him. It gives him the opportunity to find some space to set up his synth without being disturbed, the case being left open before it more out of habit than any real interest in busking. That's not what this is about; this is about just finding a place where he can stop being Bai Shen and just be...
Something more. Or less, as the case is. He takes a deep breath, adjusts some of the knobs on the synth- and begins to play. At first, aimless improv; the sort of somber, wandering blues that lead to more than a few passerbys slowing and stopping and, occasionally, tossing their spare change in to the case. Eventually, though, he begins a quiet, hesitant sort of vocal accompaniment, almost as though he's singing to himself more than to the crowd.
"Couldn't find a means to tell you
Couldn't find the words to say
Couldn't bring myself to find you
Just let it fade in to yesterday
Wasn't sure what I'd been missing
'Til I woke up'n looked around
Now I find myself here wishing
I was waking up homebound..."
((OOC; if you'd like to do something else - maybe back at Virgo - hit me up! c: ))
What: Shen tries to deal with his trauma by doing what he
When: December 15-20th, evenings. Ish.
Where: Vista City's boardwalk.
Warnings: References to I Will Twist The Knife & its events [violence, death, etc]. Trauma.
He's exhausted.
Mentally and physically, Bai Shen feels at the end of his rope; past the point of exhaustion, really, this is an overwhelming numbness that leaves only so much room to feel sorry for himself. Much less others. He moves almost like a machine, following directions without spirit or substance, and making only the most paltry attempts to practice.
Which in itself is off; he's always so focused on the improvement. Then again, considering recent events, paired with how everybody must no doubt think of him...
One night, though, he creeps out of the penthouse. Taking a slightly different style than normal, he keeps his head down and the large case on his back like a shield to block him from sight and notice. It's heavy, but he's used to bearing its weight; didn't he plenty of times, before being recruited for VIP?
All of this is familiar to him. Walking the streets, getting a few odd glances as people try to figure out if he's a boy or a girl (or something else entirely), hopping on the bus to get a ride to the boardwalk. If anyone does have a suspicion of who he is, they keep it to hushed whispers; maybe it's his somber attitude that creates the much-needed space, or maybe it's his face, very much disinterested in anything that's going on around him. (Maybe they hate him.) Maybe it's the way he clings to the synth's case as though it's the only thing he has in the world, which is...not far from true.
Eventually, he arrives. The boardwalk is a busy place, but it's a little lighter tonight; that's fine with him. It gives him the opportunity to find some space to set up his synth without being disturbed, the case being left open before it more out of habit than any real interest in busking. That's not what this is about; this is about just finding a place where he can stop being Bai Shen and just be...
Something more. Or less, as the case is. He takes a deep breath, adjusts some of the knobs on the synth- and begins to play. At first, aimless improv; the sort of somber, wandering blues that lead to more than a few passerbys slowing and stopping and, occasionally, tossing their spare change in to the case. Eventually, though, he begins a quiet, hesitant sort of vocal accompaniment, almost as though he's singing to himself more than to the crowd.
"Couldn't find a means to tell you
Couldn't find the words to say
Couldn't bring myself to find you
Just let it fade in to yesterday
Wasn't sure what I'd been missing
'Til I woke up'n looked around
Now I find myself here wishing
I was waking up homebound..."
((OOC; if you'd like to do something else - maybe back at Virgo - hit me up! c: ))
no subject
Sorry I sat on you.
no subject
pulls upadjusts his collar.]'Sokay. You did good.