interstellar5555 | "Senza tentazioni, senza onore."

[Quite funny, considering that the missing hand was still theoretical in Koumei's memory-- like the unproven certainty that they shared about their relative state of being among the living dead.

Squalo's rasping voice and solemn words were enough to cut straight to the bone. Chills running down his spine, Koumei wordlessly flashed a grin in return for the offhand compliment before slamming his fingers down on the chords to mimic the harmony of the bass he knew was necessary for the song.]

I'm only as good as the man on top, [he murmured just out of mic range, his own voice barely audible above the haunting sounds of the cello.]

[ Clearly that's his own fault for allegedly not banging Squalo for a month. He wouldn't have made a point of hiding it. Not from Mei. ]

[ He offers him a grin back. That's acceptable, because he's perfect, so being "as good" as him means he's being perfect, too. And that's true. The synth makes the deep notes all the more eerie, resounding with that surreal mood he wants to convey. A world of sensations, emotions... loss. ]

[ The next verse radiates loneliness, despair, loss of something or someone incredibly important. Welcome to the world of empathic influence. He's not aware it's happening, though. ]

But something goes wrong
The cold, going numb
Cut off from the future, cut off like a limb

Desperation wears my skin
I’ll wait, and spit at reaper’s grin

[He just needed some time. A shift in mindset, repeated blows to his band and his personal life, and the fact that Squalo's joke of planning a war was, in reality, something more than just a joke had all combined into a weight so heavy that Koumei had confined himself to his room for a while to deal. But he was feeling himself again...moreso than before. And he was always ready to be with one of the few people he trusted with any certainty in this city.

A sorrowful shadow settled over Koumei's heart with Squalo's words-- a shadow that was all too familiar for reasons that he couldn't begin to define-- but the deep reverberation of the man's voice was as calming as it was piercing.

Fingers danced upon the keys, foot pressed down on the pedal to draw out the chords to a solemn whisper.

This, truly, was someone he didn't mind standing beside at all. ]

[ Likewise, to be honest, except for that planning a war part. Squalo hadn't been planning anything. Whether the brainwashing was that strong, or simply happened to play to his vanity just enough for him not to want it to stop. Here, he could be #1 as far as he was concerned, and the idea of settling for anything less still felt alien... most of the time. There were moments, fleeting glimpses where he began to doubt it, but they were still too few and too far in between for now. ]

[ That lowering is beautiful, and he does his best to make his voice sound almost gentle in the next couple of lines, then gradually growing back into its rough, loud self. ]

Still feel it sometimes
No cure, no medicine
Blood rolls down the blade
The rain of requiem --

And it haunts me like a phantom limb
Dares to rip your face off on a whim
As if life is just a second skin
You haunt me like a phantom limb

[ The final verse will send off the feeling of something that's always in the back of your head, nagging, the feeling that something's wrong, something's missing -- and yet you can't put your finger on it, can't connect the name and the face, know something should be there, feel it, and yet... nothingness. ]

['Rain of requiem.'

It was haunting, like the sense of loss amidst the unknown that haunted his every footstep and every turn since a certain man had left the city. Closing his eyes, Koumei rode on the feeling-- tapping out the closing notes of the melody before settling on a final chord that that he drew out into the silence...

And, glancing back at Squalo through his heavy mane of disheveled waves, with eyes that were far too tired to just be a simple musician, he flashed a tired and hopeful smile.]

Stunning as always~

[ There's a certain... finality to it, isn't there? ]

[ And he's lost in it. It takes him a moment to snap out of it, realize someone's talking to him, and look back with a fond grin, seemingly not unsettled by the fact that there suddenly seems to be... a lot of weight on Koumei's shoulders, something much more complex and difficult than their current life. ]

You know it. [ He reaches out, tipping the man's chin up with his finger, and eyes him almost thoughtfully. ] Perhaps we should play the song we first performed together. Or are you too shy to sing tonight?

[....Temptation, a haunting and sensual muse, lingered in the air between them-- and there was no denying it this time. The haunting reverberations of Squalo's warcry made a shadow of something stir deep in his heart.]

I think I want to try something new, [he murmured, locking their gaze as his fingers started to pick out an oddly smooth and rich melody that was seemingly at odds with the musical theme of the evening.

Just trust him.]

Can you follow my lead?

[ It might be different from most of his songs, but that's fine. It'll only make it stand out more. And this is Mei. Squalo will happily let him have a song; it's his evening and he decides who will get it. ]

[ He smirks and steps to the side to retrieve his regular cello, as he imagines it'll sound better here than the electric one. ]

Anytime.

[ The melody starts out unusually soft from under his fingers, curling around that piano-like sound of the keyboard. ]

[And, taking the mic with one hand while the other continued the gentle melody, he lowered his head and started to croon:]

Seal my heart and break my pride
I've nowhere to run and now nowhere to hide
Align my heart, my body, my mind
To face what I've done, and do my time.

[His voice was low and husky, more akin to a smokey-toned folk singer than the indie-rock band that Cosmic Indulgence claimed to be. An air of melancholy and regret rang in those words, but the bittersweet notes were overlaid with a subtle ring of determination overlaid upon them.

Branching off of the refrain, he continued.]

A young man stands at the front of the parade
His brothers and sisters, their retainers a palisade
All came together for the first time in years
Over news that had brought the country to tears.

[ He may not be a vocalist, but his voice is lovely. The style fits him, though for a moment Squalo has to wonder if this is some kind of tribute to... that disbanded folk group or something. Maybe that was the one where his possibly-brother was at? The words make even more sense in that case. ]

[ He listens, and he plays, now putting a little more energy behind his strokes. A hint of strife, of a strong emotion, yet still gentle, calm, even. ]

[Squalo's instinct was correct-- although, now Koumei had more recollection of details, including clarification on that relationship.]

We were kicked from our homes before we were sixteen,
A blood soaked land where our ancestor's had been
With blades in our hands and fire in our hearts
We couldn't make peace; our father, from his life departs.
So we gathered ourselves, our minds, our hands--
For we knew the truth of where our new king stands.

[His brother. His king. A cold acceptance and certainty of this truth alone firmed his spine, set his hands a dance alongside the gentle calm of Squalo's playing. Encouraged now, he broke into the refrain once more.]

Seal my heart and break my pride,
I've nowhere to stand and now nowhere to hide
Align my heart, my body, my mind
To face what I've done, and do my time.

Edited 2016-02-25 23:49 (UTC)

[ ~~That's rough buddy.~~ That sounds tough, even if it's just a song. ...probably just a song. It almost reminds him of something. Strife, having nothing, trying to make a name and a legacy -- ]

[ And a lord who's worth all of it ten times over. ]

[ Squalo will help him with the chorus, though his voice's unusually quiet, almost monotone - a gravely foundation for Koumei's, careful not to drown it out and making it stand out more instead. ]

Seal my heart and break my pride,
I've nowhere to stand and now nowhere to hide
Align my heart, my body, my mind
To face what I've done, and do my time.

[It was rough-- and he was piecing together memories that shouldn't be his, but simultaneously felt more right than anything this glitzy, rockstar wonderland could offer.

Picking up the tempo, the melody grew more harsh and agitated as if it were a storm blowing in from over the sea.]

Except that's now how the story played
One of the sons, his brothers betrayed
Vengeance and rage left his heart full of hate--
And it was over this that he cursed his very fate
Now there is no country and there is no king
And it's this message alone for which I will sing:

There will come a time when we meet again
And at that time you'll learn of true pain
For desperation and loneliness are a part of the deal;
It's the only way we know that our lives are real.

[ He picks up the increase in energy with the melody he plays, like waves in the ocean gradually growing higher, filling in the cracks that were held together with silence before. ]

[ That's... fucking deep, he thinks. Wow, Mei just might have some talent for words as well. As to be expected of an alleged leader, he supposes. Still, he doesn't have to like the message even if he appreciates the music. Loneliness and desperation; no. He's had enough. Never again. Not again... ]

[Three men who could have changed the very course of the world were dead long before their time. Countless others had spilled their blood over the ages, as each generation fought for an ideal that they couldn't attain. The flow of fate wasn't in their favor-- except for this one time.

And it was all ruined, because someone couldn't look beyond his own person.

A young man with burn scars upon his face and entire body. A woman who was as lovely as she was terrifying. An Empire brought to pieces because of vengence and greed that ultimately led to civil war.

He didn't want this pain, but it was as much a part of his blood as the agonized souls of the soliers who had given their lives upon those God forsaken plains.

Fingers whipped across the keys in an agitated crescendo, slamming into the deeper chords and picking out the oddly simplistic melody.

--Then, as suddenly as it started, the chorus broke. The world seemed to hold it's breath for a heart beat before, note by note, the melody gently stepped back into play.]

Yes, my brother, yes it is me
I know what must be done, 'cause I know what I've seen.
I stepped out and stood before the crowd,
I said: "This child is lost, and he will never be found."

[ Haha, speaking of young men with burn scars... ]

[ That moment of silence is a saving grace, really, as it gives Squalo enough time to grab a new bow. He suspected this kind of thing might happen more now, but he still feels a second of frustration when it breaks during that final rise of music and volume. That goddamn fake hand. ]

[ He picks the new bow and stealthily slips its end through the spiky bracelet he's wearing, pretty much securing the tip over a narrow slip of his forearm not covered by the prosthetic. He might not be able to feel how he's holding it, but he can feel the end pressing into his arm, more so the harder he pushes the bow against the strings. This is how he's been managing to play again. ]

[ And just in time, he starts off gently and quietly again, barely a musical whisper, letting Koumei's voice carry the story. ]

[But the story had ended....for now. Koumei didn't care to sing about war, about his own death. It was better to end like this, with the audience hanging onto his words and their imaginations going wild as they sought to write their own conclusions to the tail.

Meanwhile his fingers trailed on, eyes closed as he thought of a man with broad shoulders and a goatee, a man with a passion and charisma that surpassed his very bounds as a person.

His brother. His king.

How he missed that man.

Slowly ending the melody with a diminuendo into silence, Koumei drew the song to a close and listened in silence while the audience applauded. His mind was adrift with his own affairs...but that didn't mean he was oblivious to everything happening around him.

He and Squalo would need to talk later-- clearly things were coming to a head for the both of them, and they needed to get their details straight.]

[ Squalo will egg on the audience and yell some compliments for Mei and his song into the microphone for the hell of it, or maybe as a way to unwind a little. He doesn't like feelings, especially these... things that he's starting to suspect more and more are some kind of memories. Another life, perhaps. Not like it needs to make sense with everything that's been happening. ]

[ He'll do a couple more songs and announce a break before the second part of the night. He'll probably make beeline to the bar. Or, quite possibly, the restroom. His mind's a mess and alcohol alone might not be enough to deal with it. ]

[His own mind was a mess of emotions that he didn't fully understand, but ignoring them for the sake of the show had become habit at this point. No one needed to know of his problems, especially when he was on stage...but it was becoming increasingly hard to ignore those dreams that could be more than just hints at a previous lifetime any longer.

Koumei drops into the bathroom as well, intent on splashing some cold water into his face and trying not to see the ghosts that lingered behind his reflection in the mirror.]

[ Well. He just might come across the unsavory sight of Squalo finishing a line off the edge of the sink. He might brush his nose clean with the back of his hand and straighten up pretty damn fast, but it's probably obvious anyway. ]

You ever fucking heard of knocking?!

[The annoyed shout barely earns little more than a blink of surprise. Though he was fairly straight edge, he wasn't one to judge others for their vices. Not now-- not this far in the game.

Instead, he'll just give Squalo a quiet, unassuming look.]

We've seen each other naked; I think that means we're far past the point of knocking.

Also, the door wasn't locked-- and there is no sign that says it's private.

[ He scowls back at him, tucking whatever money bill he was using into his pocket. Mei's right, of course. This isn't his private fucking quarters or anything. And it's not that he's secretive, either. Trash can think whatever they want of him -- ]

[ He might be a little worried that this particular person might think of him less now, though. The corner of his mouth still twitches in annoyance. ]

Right. Whatever. Go ahead, I'm done anyway.

[ He steps away from the sink, seemingly headed for the door. ]

Wait, Squalo--

[Koumei reached out to snatch hold of the other man's hand, and moved closer until their faces were only a breath apart.]

Why the rush?

[ He looks a little taken aback, but doesn't move away or try to pull free, just sort of stares at Koumei with a bit of confusion. ]

[ Then he groans. ]

Don't tell me you came here for a heart-to-heart instead of a piss. Come on.

Actually, I came in to clean up for a minute, but since we're here...

[He reached down for Squalo's other hand-- the one with the prosthetic.]

This is new. Nicely crafted, too-- I almost didn't notice, if not for you shredding your bows so much.

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timeskip?

Timeskip!

cw: substance abuse i guess

oh rofl~

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