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Post by warriororiana on Sept 21, 2008 18:37:54 GMT -7
Mystery solved at last. When Rowan confessed his near-hermit-hood, Typhon suddenly understood a great deal more of his reactions. And Typhon understood intimately how hard it was for someone socially-awkward to make conversations. Even on topics that they held a great deal of passion for. Two years of being mostly alone was probably going to leave its mark.
He was surprised to hear that no one had heard Rowan play. How had they known of his passion then? Of course, Typhon knew upon seeing the room… but if Rowan had had no guests… He shook his head. That was a puzzle too convoluted to figure out right now. It would wind up capturing his thoughts and make him silent for hours and that was rude. He’d think about it later, perhaps during meditation. In the meantime, “I would like very much to hear something that is yours.”
As he suspected might be the case, Rowan lit up with nervousness and excitement. Typhon nodded to himself and sipped at his tea, content that he had guessed correctly. He hoped that the passion translated into skill though… or he was about to have his ears tortured.
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Post by thebard on Sept 21, 2008 19:20:27 GMT -7
Rowan's eyes lit up when Typhon assented, though he still felt nervous. When was the last time anyone heard him play? It was before his father died... in fact it was his father who ha last hear him. Taking in a long breath, Rowan stood and walked to his little music corner, pulling out a small stool to sit down in front of one of his keyboards. "I have to warn you..." he said quietly, glancing up at Typhon as the big man watched him. "My voice... it...makes people feel things. So, if I make you feel weird, I'm apologizing in advance." Clearing his throat, Rowan powered up the big keyboard, pressing a button here and there until he had the sound configuration that he wanted. Grand piano... something simple and classic. Typhon seemed the kind of man who would appreciate that. Then, plying the first few notes, Rowan filled his rooms with sound, letting the prelude set a somber mood. Then, he lifted his voice in song... his tone as golden as his hair, as pure as sunshine... He sang of his father... "... Seems like it was yesterday when I saw your face
You told me how proud you were but I walked away
If only I knew what I know today..." Rowan's eyes fluttered closed as he sang, his fingers expertly dancing over the keys. Typhon's silent presence slowly began to vanish from his mind as the emotion he felt began to fill his soul, making the music he played and the words he sang take on a life of their own... "... I would hold you in my arms
I would take the pain away
Thank you for all you've done
Forgive all your mistakes
There's nothing I wouldn't do
To hear your voice again
Sometimes I want to call you but I know you won't be there
I'm sorry for blaming you for everything I just couldn't do
And I've hurt myself by hurting you
Some days I feel broke inside but I won't admit
Sometimes I just want to hide 'cause it's you I miss
You know it's so hard to say goodbye when it comes to this..." Rowan was in his own world now, completely displacing his mindset to the music that consumed him. His magic began to burn inside of him, letting his emotion our from him in waves, washing over Typhon as he continued, his voice softer now but gaining in volume and passion as the song went on... "... Would you tell me I was wrong?
Would you help me understand?
Are you looking down upon me?
Are you proud of who I am?
There's nothing I wouldn't do
To have just one more chance
To look into your eyes and see you looking back
I'm sorry for blaming you for everything I just couldn't do
And I've hurt myself
If I had just one more day, I would tell you how much that
I've missed you since you've been away
Oh, it's dangerous
It's so out of line to try to turn back time..." Tears rolling down his cheeks, Rowan finally opened his eyes, his gaze still distant. Yes as displaced as his mind was, Rowan's fingers still danced gracefully across the keys as his voice became more of a gentle weep of sorrow. "... I'm sorry for blaming you for everything I just couldn't do
And I've hurt myself..." Rowan closed his eyes once more, his fingers deftly playing on the last refrain of the song... "... By hurting you..." The last chord died away on the air, leaving an empty silence in its wake. |
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Post by warriororiana on Sept 21, 2008 19:47:19 GMT -7
One mystery replaced by another. Typhon raised an eyebrow in inquiry when Rowan spoke of his voice making people feel things. Feel things? Just what did he mean by that? He had a feeling that he’d very quickly find out though, so he half-turned in the chair to be able to keep an eye on Rowan and still sip his tea…
The song began and Typhon listened, pleasantly surprised. Rowan did have a wonderful voice and was quite skillful at the keyboard. There was nothing that was going to grate on the large man. And then… then gradually, Typhon’s mood shifted. His pleasant expression melted into something sad, turned inward, and mournful. Grief clutched at his chest painfully, and he struggled to contain it. He wasn’t the sort to be struck so strongly by a song. Especially since he had not lost anyone in the manner the lyrics seemed to speak of. But somehow, he was captured by the song and drowned unexpectedly in a sea of heartache and loneliness.
Typhon bit his lip, ducking his head down, fighting the tears that threatened. Unnoticed, his hand clenched tight and the fragile porcelain cup crunched in his hand. The tea spilled onto the floor unheeded. A tear escaped Typhon’s control and trickled down his face to his chin. Thankfully the song ended before he lost further control, but it was several minutes before he could calm himself.
He was startled. Looking up at Rowan, he realized that the emotion that had caught him so thoroughly had its source in the young man behind the keyboard. Now he understood what Rowan had meant earlier. He blinked several times and then reached up to wipe away the tear… only then noticing that he had crushed the teacup. Typhon’s eyes went wide and he stared in surprise at his hand. And then blushed with chagrin. “I… I’m sorry…” He placed the pieces of the cup on the table carefully, embarrassed to have destroyed the delicate thing. “It… was… I…” He couldn’t honestly say it was a GOOD song. It was in fact quite a depressing song. But skillfully played and beautifully written. And with that kind of power behind it… it went from melancholy to unearthly in a heartbeat. Typhon couldn’t think of a thing to say.
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Post by thebard on Sept 21, 2008 20:11:28 GMT -7
It took a moment for Rowan to come out of the trance the magic of his music put him. He shivered and shook his head, reaching up to wipe the tears form his face. As he did, the deep rumbling of Typhon's voice made him snap back to reality.
>> “I… I’m sorry…” Typhon placed the pieces of the cup on the table carefully, embarrassed to have destroyed the delicate thing. “It… was… I…”<<
Rowan stood up from the stool he was sitting on, knocking it over as he hurried over to his guest. Totally ignoring the broken teacup to take Typhon's big hand in both of his, Rowan opened Typhon's fingers to notice that the big man was bleeding. Tiny bits of broken china were embedded in Typhon's palm and the pads of his fingers. "Oh no, oh my..." Rowan said sadly. "I... I didn't mean to--I did this..."
Biting his lip, Rowan rushed to the kitchenette, pulling out a first aid kit from the cupboard over the sink. Pulling a pair of tweezers from inside of it, he carefully began to pluck the tiny bits of china from Typhon's skin. "I am so, so, so sorry..." he said sadly, placing the broken bits onto he table, trying his best not to look up into Typhon's gaze, feeling embarrassed and awkward. "When I get into my music... when I sing, it... I make people feel what I feel."
When all the shards were removed, Rowan produced a tube of topical antibiotic ointment and began to apply them to Typhon's wounds. "I never meant for it to hurt you," he said softly as he began to wrap Typhon's hand up in cotton bandages, still avoiding the big man's gaze, afraid to find anger there.
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Post by warriororiana on Sept 21, 2008 20:23:26 GMT -7
As Rowan treated his hand, he babbled his apologies… and didn’t let Typhon get a word in edgewise. Of course, that was hardly difficult to do since Typhon was still speechless, and not exactly a big talker to begin with. But at last he roused himself to reassure the Bard, “It was a beautiful song, but sad. I didn’t know what to expect. It’s my fault I broke the cup.” If he hadn’t fought the emotions, he wouldn’t have clenched his fist, after all.
The young man didn’t seem to be listening, so Typhon finally halted his wrapping by placing his other hand on top of Rowan’s hands. Startled, the Bard looked up at him, his eyes wide. Typhon’s eyes held neither anger, nor recriminations… they held nothing but calm, though his cheeks were faintly stained with a blush of embarrassment. He hated being clumsy. “Rowan, you did not hurt me. It was a powerful song, that’s all. Though, perhaps next time you could choose a less… sad… one.” Then again, did he really want to be caught roaring with laughter, or blushing at a baudy drinking song?
He lifted his hand to let Rowan continue wrapping the bandages. “When you record the song… does the recording cause emotions too?”
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Post by thebard on Sept 21, 2008 20:34:30 GMT -7
Rowan looked up at Typhon when the big man covered his busy hands with his. Rowan stared into Typhon dark gaze as the big man spoke, telling him that he needn't apologize, that his song was beautiful and powerful, yet sad. As many compliments as he had gotten from his teachers and his father, none seemed to matter as much as this one.
Then Rowan notice the faint blush on Typhon's cheeks, and smiled a shy little smile. His checks flushed a faint pink as well as he continued to wrap Typhon's big hand in the bandages. "Thank you..." he said softly. "For your compliment... it means a lot. But I'm still sorry you got hurt."
Rowan then thought of Typhon's question as he taped the end of the bandage in place. "I don't think a recording can make the magic happen like my singing it live can," he said as he looked the bandages over to make sure they weren't too tight. "I don't know why, but I think you have to hear it fresh in order for it to work. I'm not sure how he whole thing works. But, my father used to call it 'Bardic Magic'."
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Post by warriororiana on Sept 21, 2008 22:12:27 GMT -7
Typhon nodded. Bardic magic… that made sense. He didn’t know anything about bardic magic… but from the legends and stories of bards and the power they held over lords and ladies though they themselves held no rank… well, it definitely made those stories far more believable.
He shook his head again. This place held surprise after surprise. He was beginning to think he wasn’t going to stick out here nearly as much as he had anywhere else. Even his size, from what he’d been hearing, wasn’t that out of place.
“Is that why you don’t share your music?” Typhon asked.
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Post by thebard on Sept 21, 2008 22:19:50 GMT -7
Rowan, satisfied that Typhon was bandaged up to the best of his ability, began to clean up the broken cup. Wiping the broken chips off the table and into a towel, he threw the whole lot into the trash before going to wipe up he floor. When h was finished, he returned to his chair across from Typhon.
>>“Is that why you don’t share your music?” Typhon asked.<<
Rowan looked up at Typhon once again, seeing the question in his gaze as much as he heard it. Sighing deeply, Rowan folded his hands in his lap and nodded. "Yeah..." he said, looking own at his hands as he pressed his thumbs together. "I don't want to hurt anyone... or make them feel something they don't want to feel."
Looking up at Typhon again, eyes filling with unshed tears, Rowan bit his lip. "Its part of why I try and stay away from people," he said softly, but urgently. "Can you imagine what I could do to a room full of people just by singing for them?"
Sniffling, he wiped his nose and looked down again. "I can't even begin to imagine it," his voice was barely above a whisper. "It's better to just avoid people all together."
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Post by warriororiana on Sept 22, 2008 12:46:48 GMT -7
“Can you imagine what I could do to a room full of people just by singing for them? I can’t even begin to imagine it. It’s better to just avoid people all together.”
Typhon could indeed imagine it. His mother and father would have paid a fortune to have that ability, in fact. However, magic, like anything else, was just another tool. In one person’s hands it was a weapon… in another’s, it was a tool to help. There were two sides.
“Yes, I can imagine it… I can imagine a room full of people laughing & falling in love with their significant others all over again. Or feeling the stress of a horrific day melt away under the soothing balm of classical music. Or a rampaging mob threatening someone’s life suddenly calm and even rethink their actions, learning tolerance and goodwill again. Music has always had the power to affect us. You just make it affect us more… directly.”
He thought for a few more minutes in silence and then added, “If you are afraid of your power, then you need to learn to control it so it doesn’t escape you to hurt someone. And so you can share your passion for music without fear. Music is meant to be shared, not hoarded.”
And that was more than he’d said at one time in more years than he cared to count. His throat felt a little raw from the use.
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Post by thebard on Sept 22, 2008 17:03:19 GMT -7
As Typhon began to speak of Rowan's magic without any fear, but with a hint of appreciation, the Bard's eyes began to light up. This big man, with just his words was slowly beginning to change the sullen and reclusive young man just by telling him the truth that he so desperately needed to hear.
Rowan felt his heart beat a little faster, felt the heat rise up in his face, felt the tell-tale pulling in his cheeks that reminded him that he, indeed, remembered how to smile. Typhon was not only right, but he was wise, and made Rowan feel that maybe he could control himself... be a boon rather than a burden. That he should share his gift rather that squander it.
With eyes filled with admiration and appreciation, Rowan gazed at Typhon, seeing him in a whole new light. This hulk of a man, face covered with tattoos and scars, whose eye was shielded under an eye-patch, was more beautiful than any other person Rowan has ever known. His gentle voice, kind words, and comforting presence seeming to fill a hole in Rowan's heart. ".... you're right," Rowan whispered. "Thank you."
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Post by warriororiana on Sept 22, 2008 21:06:26 GMT -7
Typhon was startled to see the admiration in Rowan’s face. He hadn’t seen that look in someone’s face since his mother had first discovered his special abilities and decided he was a prophet or channel for God. It was a little disconcerting… mostly because he didn’t feel he had done anything to deserve it. Only pointed out the other side to a difficult situation…
Typhon blinked and then cleared his throat, awkward once again. “You’re… welcome.” He couldn’t very well say it was nothing. Not when it clearly meant so much to the Bard. But what else could he say now?
He thought of the song that Rowan had sung. “Your song… you’ve lost someone recently?” He wondered if it was a mistake to bring up the song again, or the inspiration for it, but he honestly could think of nothing else to say. He was not good at conversation. He never knew the appropriate things to say.
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Post by thebard on Sept 22, 2008 21:21:26 GMT -7
Rowan noticed how Typhon seemed startled by his words, wondering if perhaps he had said something wrong. He cleared his throat awkwardly and began to clean up he tea service from the table, bringing it to the sink. "I guess you really wouldn't say it was recent," he said as he turned on the water, squirting a little liquid soap under the tap to let it foam up. With his back still turned to Typhin, he let out a deep sigh. "It was two years ago... my father. He died while on a mission for the BPRD..."
As he washed the platter clean, he thought back to when his father was still alive, how his music had effected him much the same way it had effected Typhon. "I miss him terribly... I guess you coul say he was my only friend," he sighed again and began to was his cup and saucer. "Not that I go out of my way to make friends around here. all I do is work out and write music."
Setting the service on the wire dish rack to dry, he turned around to lean against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down to his shoes. "People think that I prefer being left alone," he said softly, finding himself unable to life his gaze to meet Typhon's. "Until today I thought it was true." Finally he looked up at the big man seated at his table and blushed a little before looking back down at his feet. "I was wrong."
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Post by warriororiana on Sept 22, 2008 22:04:58 GMT -7
Typhon cursed his own memory for betraying him. Rowan had told him earlier about his father, but in the awkward scramble for something to say, he had forgotten. Though… now he was getting more details. Died on a mission? So he was an agent for the BPRD? Typhon had been warned it was a dangerous job, but being an FBI agent was hardly a safe job either.
Two years was an awfully long time to be a hermit. And Typhon wondered about the people here. If Rowan was a long term resident, as his talk implied, why did no one check on him after his father died? Why didn’t anyone try to draw him out and see if he was lonely? It seemed awfully… cold. Was it because they didn’t think he was useful? Or simply forgetfulness? Or did they honestly think he just wanted to be left alone? It was never good to assume that. Some people withdrew after a loss in a very unhealthy way. He might be two years late… but perhaps it wasn’t too late. Not if Rowan was responding so positively.
Now that was a completely odd thought. Typhon had never been very social himself. He didn’t have the knack for conversation. He let others do that. He actually did prefer to be alone, since that meant he didn’t have to talk that much. Still, Rowan needed to get out of this room. It was a cozy little sanctuary, yes, but when you locked the world out, you had a tendency of locking yourself in, and a sanctuary was very easily turned into a prison. Both mentally and physically.
“So… you know this place well?” Typhon said, changing the subject with his typical rough lack of skill. “Perhaps you could show me around?” He didn’t exactly need a tour guide. Tabby had shown him the places he needed most, and he preferred to prowl the rest of the place on his own and discover for himself. But this was a special case. And making Rowan tour guide meant he wouldn’t have to talk much. An ideal way to accomplish his goals.
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Post by thebard on Sept 23, 2008 11:19:32 GMT -7
Rowan sighed as the air fell silent between him and Typhon. Was the big man looking for a polite way to excuse himself from Rowan's company? Did he make Typhon that uncomfortable? When Typhon spoke again, in his usual rumbling bass, Rowan looked upform his shoes. >>“So… you know this place well?” Typhon said, changing the subject with his typical rough lack of skill. “Perhaps you could show me around?”<< Rowan blinked... Typhon wanted HIM to be a tour guide? Swallowing the nervous lump in his throat, Rowan determined that he had been living within these halls his entire life and he knew where just about everything was, even if he didn't go to them that often. Sighing resolutely, Rowan itched his eyebrow and thought about the people that may actually try to engage him in conversation. The idea made him even more nervous. But, Typhon would be with him. For some strange reason, that made it seem bearable. The big man had this aura about him that made Rowan feel safe and at ease. Maybe an excursion out of his room would turn out to be a good thing. "All right," Rowan said at last, offering Ty his shy little smile again. "Let's go." Walking to the door, Rowan took a deep breath and opened it, turning to wait for his guest patiently. What would Rowan show him first? Nodding to himself as Typhon exited Rowan closed the door behind them as he began to lead him down he hallway. A few faces they passed looked at rowan in shock, the very fact that he was out of his rooms this late in the evening was quite unusual. He only appeared for his workout, shower, and occasional meal (which he had always brought back to his room to eat). Thankfully no one stopped him to talk to him... maybe it was the shock that prevented them, or maybe it was Typhon's intimidating girth. Wither way, Rowan was thankful. Rowan led Typhon on through hallways around corners, up an elevator,and then a flight of stairs before they emerged on the top of the facility, looking out over the rolling, forested hills outside of Trenton, the city lights glittering off in the distance. "This..." Rowan whispered when Typhon ducked out the roof access doorway and onto the roof. "Is my favorite place in he entire place... Well, besides my room that is." Rowan turned to look back at Typhon, his hood down, the moonlight casting silver-gray shadows across his young, boyish face, illuminating the honey gold of his hair. "I come up here to get inspired, sometimes..." he said, turning once more to look up at the moon, raising his voice in a soft song. His voice seemed to be an echo of the moon's silvery light, and just as beautiful. "Who can tell me if we have heaven,
Who can say the way it should be;
Moonlight holly, the Sappho comet,
Angels tears below a tree.
You talk of the break of morning
As you view the new aurora,
Cloud in crimson, the key of heaven,
One love carved in acajou.
One told me of china roses,
One a thousand nights and one night,
Earths last picture, the end of evening:
Hue of indigo and blue.
A new moon leads me to
Woods of dreams and I follow.
A new world waits for me;
My dream, my way.
I know that if I have heaven
There is nothing to desire.
Rain and river, a world of wonder
May be paradise to me." Rowan didn't even know why he had broken out into song. It was a song he had written so long ago, when he was only fourteen. Maybe it was the moonlight, or maybe it was Typhon's presence that brought it out in him. He didn't know... but his face flushed pink in embarrassment. "I'm sorry..." he said softly. "... sometimes I do that. Well... not in the presence of others usually, but... God ok, I'm shutting up now." |
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Post by warriororiana on Sept 23, 2008 20:57:53 GMT -7
He had thought for a few minutes that Rowan would refuse, but he must have had second thoughts, for a moment later he was smiling shyly and agreeing. Typhon found himself being led through the building, heading upwards. He ducked through a last doorway to find himself in the open air. It was the roof of the building. Stretched out beneath them was the rest of the complex, the forest of the surrounding area, and in the distance, the city lights. The moon was a bright presence above them.
“This,” Rowan said, “Is my favorite place in the entire place. Well, besides my room, that is. I come up here to get inspired sometimes…”
Typhon stared up at the moon in silence. There was something about the bright orb that made people pensive, thoughtful, or romantic for some reason. Perhaps it was the night that surrounded it. Whatever the cause, he wasn’t startled when Rowan broke out into a soft song. The emotions this time were rather… whimsical. Bemused. Perhaps the slightest bit wistful. Now that Typhon knew the source, it wasn’t as disconcerting. And these emotions weren’t strong, nor in any way uncomfortable, so he simply let the song wash over him, joining Rowan in the contemplation of the moon.
“I’m sorry…” Rowan said as the song ended, “Sometimes I do that. Well, not in the presence of others, usually, but… God, okay. I’m shutting up now.”
The corner of Typhon’s mouth quirked up in the smallest of smiles. He wasn't a man given to smiling much. Not that he didn't find things fun, he was just serious. Still, he had his moments. Like now. “Don’t apologize. I don’t mind. Talk if you like. Sing if you like.” It wasn’t as though Typhon was going to fill the silence. And babblers never bothered him. He wasn’t trying to compete for airspace, as it were. He let them chatter to their heart’s content. “Pretty song,” he added, in case Rowan thought he hadn’t liked it. Now that Rowan was taking over the bulk of the conversation, Typhon was reverting back to his reticent ways.
Typhon strolled to the edge of the room and leaned against the retaining wall, looking out over the vista. He inhaled deeply, automatically centering himself as though preparing for meditation. Calm. Ground. Center. The actions were reflexive now. It helped him deal with everything that came his way.
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