An evening for music...

[thebard]

Time: 7:30 p.m.
Date: Aug 10
Place: Hallway outside of Locker/Shower Room
Status: CLOSED

Rowan closed his eyes as the warm water of the shower poured down over his face. If there was anything else that he enjoyed more than music, was to work out and the shower that followed. Muscles that were painfully tight with use began to relax as the steamy hot water flowed down over his body, reliving tension, and soothing aches. Pouring some shampoo into his hand, the Bard (as some here at the BPRD have come to call him) ran his fingers through his honey brown hair, working up a thick, white lather. As he cleaned himself, he thought of the evening to come, and the music hat was awaiting him. It was the only thing he ever did... that is besides sleeping, eating, working out, and bathing... Music took up almost all of the music guru's life. And he liked it like that. Making friends meant that he would eventually lose them, like he lost his mother... and more recently, his father. He didn't want that kind of hurt anymore. It was better off to compose songs about love and friendship rather than actually living it.

Sighing gently s he rinsed the remaining shampoo form his hair, Rowan began to scrub at his skin, till he was pink from head to toe. Then, turing off the flow of water, grabbed a fluffy white towel and began to dry himself off. Hearing voices outside his stall, Rowan flushed a little bit as he dried himself. The last thing he wanted to do was be caught without his clothes, which hung over the locker room bench just a few feet away. His ace turning bright red, he wrapped the towel around his waist poked his head out from behind the white, vinyl curtain. Breathing a breath of relief when he found that whoever else were in the locker rooms were out of sight, Rowan hopped out of the shower and dressed so fast that even the most quick of those who lived in the sanctuary of the BPRD would give him a thumbs up.

Lacing his black and white converse sneakers up with a nod of satisfaction, Rowan tossed his towel in the nearest hamper, took his hygiene kit in hand, and ducked out of the locker room as quietly as a mouse. The last thing he wanted to do was get caught into an uncomfortable social situation where he actually had to talk to someone.

Heading out into the hallway, Rowan pulled up the hood of his hooded sweater of black, watching the floor as he walked, tucking his small hygiene kit into the front pouch of his hoodie. He hoped that he would go unnoticed as he made his way back through the display case lined hallway to his room. He was so close to finishing his most recent of songs, and tonight he hopes he would be able to hear his finished piece finally after a month of writing it.

[warriororiana]

Freed from responsibilities for the moment and encouraged to explore his new home, Typhon found himself prowling up and down the halls of the BPRD doing his best not to get lost. It was rather staggering to realize the sheer size of this place. And the very odd things that happened in these halls. Some of the doors he’d opened and peeked around revealed sights that had him staring in shock and amazement.

For instance, that room of men chasing tiny little flying creatures… that, though small were not small enough to be bugs. Unless some Jurassic bug had survived to current day… and sported tiny human-like figures and giggling, high-pitched voices…

Typhon had no idea where he was now. He’d followed hallways at random, still musing over the things he’d seen. He shook his head. And he still hadn’t met the infamous Hellboy that he’d heard about. Or the one that everyone referred to as “Blue”… or “Fisherman”.

Typhon paused at a junction of hallways, peering down each direction and trying to decide which one to take. Thus, he was not paying attention when the hooded figure plowed into him. The person… male, Typhon decided after a quick glance into the shadows of the hood, bounced off of him and started to head toward the floor. Typhon reached out and caught him, steadying him with one, massive hand.

The young man looked up in surprise… and his eyes kept traveling up, growing wider with each passing inch. The jaw dropped ground-ward and Typhon yanked back his hand awkwardly, not wishing to frighten this person. It was all to common a reaction. Briefly Typhon wondered if this young man would scream, faint, babble, or flee…

[thebard]

Walking quickly and quietly down the hallway, Rowan counted the steps as he usually did, glad that they were pretty much empty. Steps thirty-seven brought him to the last corner before the corridor to his large rooms, but something prevented him from reaching his goal. With a guttural "Ooomph!" Rowan ran into something very large and very solid... 'When did they put a wall up??' He asked himself as he skittered back, about to fall to the floor.

Something stopped him though. Something large and strong... but warm and gentle all at the same time. Blinking, Rowan pushed back his hood to look directly into... someone's lower chest? Blinking again, his honey-brown eyes continued their way upwards, noting how broad this person's shoulders were, how thick their neck was. And the face...! It was chiseled and masculine, though totally covered with myriad red and black tattoos and jagged scars. Not only that, one of this person's eyes were covered with a eye patch... but the other...

Showing no fear and no disgust, Rowan stared up into Typhon's dark colored eye with a wide, innocent, yet curious gaze. The big man's tattoos and his eye color was absolutely fascinating to Rowan, and he found himself feeling somewhat at ease, even if the man was a total stranger to him.

Regaining his footing, Rowan blinked once more when Typhon pulled his big hand away. Rowan just looked up at the big man's face again... and for the first time since his father died, he actually initiated a conversation. "You're... big..."

'DOH! That's not what you wanted to say!!' Rowan chided himself. For someone who could compose beautiful lyrics and harmonious symphonies, he was completely unable to interact with people appropriately.

[warriororiana]

“You’re… big…”

Ah, it was to be amazement then. Well, that was a far better reaction than terror. Typhon nodded briefly, and then added in a gravely bass rumble, “I am. Are you all right?” The young man hadn’t bounced off of him that hard, but you could never tell. He did seem awfully dazed. Typhon frowned and looked around, but of course this hallway was bare of any furniture. “Do you need to sit down?” Maybe one of the rooms would have someplace to sit.

“I am agent Coluber,” Typhon said, returning his attention to the young man. Perhaps he could sit on the floor if he was dizzy. “I’m new.”

[thebard]

Rowan nodded once at Typhon's question, feeling more bewildered at the size of Typhon than by anything else. '...Coluber...' Rowan thought to himself, pondering the way the name sounded. But, then he realized that he should probably introduce himself as well, seeing the new agent was nice enough to do so himself. "I..." Rowan began, looking up at Typhon once more, amazed at the deep rumble of a voice the man had. "I'm Rowan.... DeVey. Not an agent... and I'm... not so new."

Feeling once again inept at social interactions, Rowan's cheeks began to flush red. He looked around Typhon and down the hallway towards his room, pondering whether or not he should just dart around the big man and into its safe solitude. But, then again, Typhon had kept him from falling, so the least he could do was offer his thanks to the big man. "T-thank you... for catching me," he said softly, looking down to Typhon's boots, unsure of what else to say, seeing he had more than used up his usual talking points for the year.

[warriororiana]

Typhon looked over his shoulder instinctively as Rowan glanced around him. It wasn’t exactly a subtle look from Rowan either… but then again, Typhon’s bulk was such that trying to look around him couldn’t be anything but obvious. The hallway was empty though.

Typhon looked back at Rowan who was staring at his feet. Ah. He was uncomfortable. Typhon stepped to one side of the hallway. “Excuse me for keeping you,” he said, trying to be polite. “It was nice to meet you.”

Typhon turned away from Rowan to give the poor young man a chance to escape. He was used to people being uncomfortable around him. Still… he had hoped that he could find people that weren’t afraid of him. The reputation this place had… the things he’d already seen… he’d begun to hope that he wouldn’t stand out so much any more. Tabby’s reaction to him, for instance, had further raised that hope. Maybe Rowan would relax later around him. Once he knew Typhon wasn’t a threat. Some of the folks at the FBI had grown more casual around him.

But that was for the future. Right now, he needed to figure out where he was. And how this place was laid out. He looked down another hallway, once again debating which one to try.

[thebard]

Rowan blinked up at Typhon as he apologized for keeping him, and began to move towards the door into his rooms. After a few steps, something made him stop. Typhon was nice enough to keep him from falling and possibly hurting himself. It was more than anyone else in the Bureau had done for him... not that he had given them a chance though. Sighing he turned around. "W-wait... Mr. Coluber..?" He said, feeling a little awkward, but he wasn't impolite. Being as socially inept as he was, he wouldn't be rude and let Typhon go without a proper thank you.

When the big man turned around, Rowan flushed a little as he pushed the hod off of his head and nodded towards the large meta doors leading into the rooms he and his father used to share before his untimely death. "... um... would you like to come in for a while?" He asked, his voice soft, betraying just how shy he really was. "I can make some coffee... or tea... I have soda... or maybe some water?"

Rowan felt his cheeks grown warmer and warmer. Why was he blushing so much?

[warriororiana]

Typhon was surprised when Rowan hailed him again. He turned back to the young blonde, lifting a bushy eyebrow in inquiry. He finally got a good look at the young man when he pushed the hood back and nodded toward a set of doors, “… um… would you like to come in for a while? I can make some coffee… or tea… I have soda… or maybe some water?”

Typhon studied Rowan for a moment, noting the bright flush of red in his cheeks. Rowan was clearly uncomfortable around him, and Typhon really had no need to refreshment… Ty frowned in confusion. If the young man didn’t want to be around him, why was he inviting him within his rooms?

Or… Typhon blinked suddenly with comprehension. Rowan was shy. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable around Ty, or rather it wasn’t that he was uncomfortable ONLY with Typhon. He was probably pretty nervous around anyone. And he was making a particular effort to invite Typhon. Which was, in a way, quite a compliment.

Ty realized he’d been silent for quite some time. Much longer than most people took to answer. He nodded solemnly as Rowan darted an uneasy glance at him. “That would be nice.”

[thebard]

Rowan, thinking that the awkward silence would be ended with Typhon's refusal, was surprised when the big man accepted the invitation. He even said that it would be nice! Rowan blinked up at the big man as he strode toward him, his cheeks still flushed red... but he managed a small smile. Yet something else that he hadn't done since his father's death. Turning when Typhon was a few steps away, Rowan lead the way down the hallways towards his rooms.

Glancing over his shoulder to see if Typhon was close, Rowan heaved open the heavy doors and stepped aside to let his guest enter first. Rowan's rooms were large, obviously meant for at least two or three people. It was cluttered as cluttered could be, though not terribly messy like most musical genius' homes would be. Stacks of CD's were set here and there, along with piles of sheet music for various types of instruments. His bed was unmade, the nightstand covered in various fantasy and sci-fi novels, and on the wall above his bed was a large poster as Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman.

Rowan followed his guest in and flipped on he lights, revealing that in one dark corner (the only uncluttered place inside the three roomed suite), was two laptop computers hooked up what looked like a triplet set of keyboards. On the wall next to hat were several instruments ranging from a viola to an acoustic guitar. Each instrument was stringed, and each were in pristine condition. A lone microphone decorated in Mardi Gras beads separated the nook form eh rest of the site, it's length adjusted mid-way as if it were to pick up the sounds of someone playing a guitar. It too seemed to be hooked by a long wire to the computers as well.

Rowan brushed gently past Typhon to head towards the tiny kitchenette, moving several folders of sheet music from the small table, and moving an over stiffed teddy ber that sat on one of the two chairs. "... sit...." he said gently, motioning to the chair, his cheeks still flushed. "...please?"

Seeing Typhon begin to move to the chair, Rowan went about finding some kind of refreshment for his guest. He DID have tea... didn't he? Frowning, he began to look through the small cabinets next to the refrigerator.

[warriororiana]

Rowan kept glancing back at him as though somehow Typhon would disappear, even though he’d agreed to come. Ty stepped through the doors and paused a little ways beyond them to look around. The room was packed with stuff. As far as Typhon could see… it was all related in some way to music. Sheet music, music CD’s, instruments, recording equipment… there were a few personal items, but for the most part, Rowan’s room was wall-to-wall music worship.

Typhon stepped curiously over to the nearest stack of CD’s and read the titles that he could see. It was a rather varied selection. Heavily weighted toward classical music, but with an eclectic assortment of other kinds mixed in.

“… sit… please?”

Typhon looked over at Rowan. The young man was terribly tentative, even here in what was clearly his sanctuary. So, Ty had guessed correctly. He was shy. Typhon moved toward the chair carefully, trying his best to keep his elbows tucked close to his body and concentration on the placement of his feet. The place was cluttered, which meant more opportunities for Ty to create a disaster in his wake. More than anything else, that’s why his own room was so austere… fewer belongings meant fewer things to knock over, tread on, bump into, or otherwise destroy. Ty breathed a sigh of relief when he managed to settle into the chair without incident.

Rowan, in the meantime, was puttering about the kitchenette, looking for something to serve Ty. So, the agent took this chance to look around some more. Aside from the books piled haphazardly on the bedside table, and the poster of an scantily dressed woman, there was very little that told Ty anything about Rowan’s personality. Though… it didn’t take a genius to guess that Rowan had a near obsession with music. It was an impressive number of instruments arrayed along the wall. And a casual music-dabbler wouldn’t have the kinds of recording equipment Ty saw. He made a mental note to stay FAR away from that corner.

Typhon looked back at Rowan who was still fidgeting. He frowned. There had to be some way to set the young man at ease… something to say? Or ask about? Ah! Music. With such clear indications around the room, surely this was a passion of Rowan’s. And surely he would like to talk about it? “You play?” Typhon asked, unconsciously dropping back to his near-monosyllabic way of speaking.

[thebard]

Rowan was too busy puttering around in the fridge to notice how carefully Typhon had to make his way to the table. Instead, he kept his head in the fridge, frowning when he didn't find what he was looking for. He then went to the cupboards, looking through them hastily. He sighed a breath of relied when he found a box of Olong green tea set back behind some breakfast cereal. "I hope you like tea..." Rowan said with his cutely shy little smile, looking at the only guest he had in his rooms... ever. Not waiting for an answer, he went about filling up a teapot an setting it on he tiny stove.

>>“You play?” Typhon asked.<<

Rowan blinked and turned around to look at Typhon for a moment before looking over at his beloved instruments. "Um... yeah..." he answered meekly, turning the temperature up under the teapot, his cheeks flushing an ever deepening shade of pink. "I play all those instruments."

Standing back up, he went to sit in the seat across from Typhon, looking down at his sneakers. "I love music," he said softly, folding his hands in his lap, glancing up at his guest. "People here call me Bard... because I like music so much..."

Rowan bit his lip, wondering if he should tell Typhon about the magic his music makes, about how it makes people feel. But, he decided against it. Typhon, being an agent, would find out about it sooner or later anyway. He breathed a breath of relief when the teapot started to whistle, pulling him back to th kitchenette to prepare two cups of tea. "... sugar?" He asked over his shoulder.

[warriororiana]

Typhon shook his head, and then added since Rowan wasn’t looking at him, “No sugar, thank you.” So the young man was called ‘Bard’. Seemed appropriate, given what Typhon knew of the stories of bards. Basically wandering minstrels who were combination entertainers and news-men, spreading news and gossip around the country. Legend had it, though, that it was not wise to insult or threaten a bard, since they had a rather unfortunate habit of writing wildly popular, incredibly insulting or embarrassing music, and you could quickly become the laughing-stock of the nation as everyone sang the catchy ditty. Typhon wondered if Rowan was like that… or did his shyness preclude that? After all, it took a certain amount of boldness to out-and-out mock someone through song.

It was a curiously low-key answer though. Typhon had thought Rowan would say more on the subject, given it’s obvious importance to him. Perhaps he had been ready to, but had been interrupted by the whistling of the tea kettle. Bard seemed curiously self-conscious about his passion. “Music is said to be one of the only two truly universal languages.” Typhon finally said, “Math and music.”

Typhon realized a little belatedly, that though he had seen plenty of CD’s of other artists, he hadn’t seen one of Rowan’s own compositions. Yet, he had that extensive recording equipment. Surely he had used it? “Do you have CD’s of your own music?”

[thebard]

>>“Do you have CD’s of your own music?”<<

Rowan blushed again as he poured the boiling water over the teabags, filling two cups to the brim. "... yes, I have several," he answered softly, pulling some shortbread cookies from a box and setting them out on a small platter before arranging the whole service on a tray. "I have been writing a new one for the last several weeks... I hope to finish it tonight."

Taking the tray, Rowan turned and crossed to his table, setting it down before Typhon. He then picked up the cup and placed it before his big guest with the smallest of smiles, his innocent and inquisitive brown eyes glancing up at Typhon. Part of him wanted to share his music with Typhon, he seemed the ind of man who would appreciate it. But another part of him was fearful of showing a complete stranger the most intimate side of himself.

Music was such a gift, though.... a gift that had been given to him, that he knew that he should share with others. closing his eyes, he stirred a spoonful of sugar into his tea. He wished that he wasn't so bad with people.... wished he had friends. Only problem is, it seemed he lost everyone who ever meant anything to him, and he didn't want to live through that again. Sighing, he pulled out the teabag setting it on the plate beneath the cup before taking a long sip.

[warriororiana]

Typhon took the cup with careful fingers. It was, naturally enough, a delicate little thing of porcelain. He took a cautious sip and then relaxed a little. Once again Rowan had given him only the barest of answers. It was odd to be caught in the position of trying to coax a conversation. He did wonder about it though. What was this strange reluctance to share anything about his music? It was odd to write music, play it, record it… and not share it. He had only met one music aficionado before, but that man had practically fallen over himself trying to show his work.

“Am I interrupting your work?” he asked, as the thought occurred to him. Maybe that was the reason for the reluctance to talk? Typhon didn’t want to impose… or interrupt the creative process. He had no idea what was involved, but he had the impression that artists were touchy about being interrupted.

[thebard]

Rowan blinked at Typhon, setting down his cup. How incredibly impolite he must have been, making the big man think he was imposing. "I... well..." Rowan began, his cheeks flushing once again. "Well, I was on my way to finish my work when I bumped into you..."

Pausing, noting how rude he was being once again, Rowan let out soft sigh, setting his cup down. "I'm sorry... I am not used to... people," he said softly, his face showing his embarrassment. "I haven't talked to many people since my father died, and wasn't all hat social even before that. You're my first guest in two years... heck, you're my first guest ever."

Rowan fell silent once more to sip at his tea awkwardly. "And... no one has ever heard me play," he confessed before bringing up his shy eyes to meet Typhon. "Maybe... you would like to hear something?"