Another musical evening...

[thebard]

Time: 11:00 p.m.
Date: Aug 15
Place: BPRD Rooftop
Status: Typhon... anyone feeling musical


Rowan sighed heavily as he headed back towards his room from the cafeteria; apple, sandwich, and a half liter jug of chocolate milk in hand. How long had it been since he had seen Typhon? Three days... four? Why did the man's absence seem to weigh so heavily on him? Why were Typhon's face, rumbling bass voice, and whirling, myriad tattoos all that Rowan thought about lately? With these questions running through his mind, he continued down the hallway, nodding to a familiar face here, a cheerful greeting there, but never stopping to chit-chat. There were too many things going on inside of his brain right now to be able to pause for small talk.

Finally making it back to his rooms, he wove through his clutter of musical instruments, stacks of collected cd's, and sound equipment to sit down in front of his keyboards to look at the piece he had been working on since the evening he and Typhon had first met. It was clearly unfinished, the music needed more time to mature and stew within the Bard... but it also seemed to be missing something. Rowan's shoulders rose and feel in a heavy, heavy sigh as he looked at his pencil markings on the lined paper. He wanted so badly to finish it and present it to the best friend he had ever known (even despite only knowing each other for a handful of days), but he couldn't until it was perfect. Typhon deserved that.

Groaning in defeat, Rowan turned away from his music and began to munch on his dinner, wondering silently how Theeson was doing after their little stint in the cafeteria. Maybe he should go and seek her out... she was funny, and had the ability to make Rowan forget about the things that plagued his mind (but then again, maybe it was the goop?). But, as he ate in silence, he wondered how bad his company would be in his defeatist state of mind. Instead, he finished his sandwich and chugged down his milk before looking up at his prized musical instruments.

Taking a bite of his apple, he stood and crossed to his wall of instruments, running the fingers of his free hand over his viola. Rowan knew the basics of many, many instruments, but if it had strings, he could play it. His wall was lined with stringed instruments of several varieties... a guitar (acoustic and electric), a chello, violin, sitar, mandolin, lute, lyre, and his prized viola. Hs fingers still on his viola, his eyes ran over its woody hues, and suddenly he felt the urge to play. Finishing off the last bite of his apple and tossing the core in the trash, he gently took the viola off the wall. Maybe a rooftop sonata was just the thing for his inspiration dry spell. Something about being in the open air always helped him when he was feeling down.

Finding the instrument's case, Rowan put the viola within its velvety confines with the care a mother would show a child, clasping it closed with a gentle sigh. Then, tucking it under his arm, he made his way back out to the hallways, trying his best to avoid people this time. He noted that since he had met Typhon, people really didn't scare him as much as they used too. His shyness had eased up a little and he found himself smiling at people more, although he still didn't say much. But tonight was different, he had the urge to play, and didn't want to get stuck inside talking with some random person about the weather or some such nonsense.

Making his way upward through seldom used hallways, elevator, and stairs (the same way he had brought Typhon several days before), he was out in the open air upon the Bureau's roof. The late summer air was slightly crisp with the promise of the upcoming fall, but it was still comfortably warm. Warm enough for Rowan to doff his hoodie and stand in a muscle-t in the silvery light of an almost full, waning gibbous moon.

Rowan stared up at the moon for several long moments, breathing the night air deeply and evenly before setting the viola case down on the rooftop before him to open it. Taking out the instrument, he plucked the strings to test for pitch before tuning it with swift, expert fingers. Then... he set his chin upon the chin rest and put the bow to the strings.

What came forth was a melodious, yet sorrowful tune he had composed several years before. His fingers danced along the strings on the viola's neck as he sawed slowly yet passionately across the strings, his whole body swaying with every stroke as if he were moved by the flow of the music. Several night birds took flight from their roosts on the rooftop, whirling in long circles up to the light of the moon, as if in reflection to the music that they heard. But, Rowan didn't notice... all of his focus was on the music now, the world seemed to fade away...

[warriororiana]

Typhon wiped damp strands of hair off of his forehead. They clung in strands to his sweaty skin. He sighed. It was, of course, just his luck to have the climate control in his room go on the fritz. On a warm August day. All the other rooms were fine. The common rooms were fine. The offices were fine. But his room, out of the many rooms… was a sweltering sauna. Tabby had laughed at his hopeless shrug and set to work putting the controls to rights. But in the meantime, he was cooking in his own skin.

He just wanted a little time and solitude for some meditation and some yoga. Or perhaps some tai chi. He was a calm person by nature, and very patient… but hours of hellish heat tried even his patience. He’d finally given up, figuring his continued presence was making the tech short out even more. He’d changed into a loose pair of pants that he usually did his martial arts and yoga in, threw on a shirt, grabbed a towel, bottle of water, and his mat, and fled, barefoot in search of a secluded spot.

His first thought was to check the roof. If Rowan, shy as he was, favored that spot it was likely not frequented. And that would suit his purposes admirably. Threading his way through the hallways as quickly as he could, he climbed the stairs and opened the door to the roof… to hear the sounds of a stringed instrument. Typhon blinked, hand still on the handle of the door, his shirt hanging open since he’d neglected to button it close, his mat, water and towel tucked under his other arm.

“Excuse me,” Typhon rumbled, hoping he hadn’t interrupted anything important. It was Rowan, eyes closed, coaxing a lovely piece of music from the strings of a beautiful viola.

[thebard]

Rowan was playing his heart out... the song becoming faster and more complicated as it went on. His forehead beaded with sweat as did his bare shoulders and arms. Even the horsehair bow was beginning to send out stray hairs as he played, the piece coaxing him to play more and more passionately. He didn't hear the footsteps coming up the stairs, or the door opening, or even the familiar, rumbling bass voice as Typhon appeared in the roof access entryway. All that mattered was the music...

On Rowan played, leaning into every downward stroke of his bow, rocking back and forth as the music pulsed through him, resounding into the night. Maybe it was his subconscious registering Typhon's voice and presence, or maybe it was because the man had been running through Rowan's mind for several days, but the music made the man's scarred and tattooed, yet somehow handsomely masculine face rise in Rowan's psyche. This made him play even more passionately, horsehair fraying like mad now from his bow.

As Rowan continued to play, the moonlight began to make the sweat upon his skin take on an almost ethereal silver sheen. It was almost as if Rowan was a ghost, half in shadow and half in light, the music flowing form him like a majestic river of sound. But, as all songs begin, they must end. And after the music reached its climax, it began to grow more somber and soft, slowing down like a heartbeat does as death draws near. And, like the sad ending of an opera, it ended... the song gently echoing out into the air as the last notes died away.

Opening his eyes finally, Rowan sighed and shivered before noticing a large shape in the doorway leading out to the roof. Blinking, he yelped and turned before noticing who it was. Blinking yet again he took in the image of Typhon, standing barefoot n the rooftop, his unbuttoned shirt flapping gently in the night breeze, showing off not only the whirling of tattoos and jagged cross-crossing of scars, but the defined muscular frame that had been hidden from Rowan until now.

Rowan felt his breath catch in his throat, both elated and embarrassed at the same time. He couldn't deny his attraction for Typhon now, for he felt a very distinct chemical reaction happening inside of him. "... Typhon...!" he exclaimed in a whisper.

[warriororiana]

Typhon froze, caught up in the music, his hand still on the door handle but completely unaware of it. It was beautiful, ethereal, aching and passionate. Typhon watched in fascination as Rowan played, until he was unable to resist closing his eyes any more, and did so, letting the sound call images to play behind his closed eyelids. He stood there, lips parted in a soundless ‘ah’. The Bard truly earned that nickname.

The song wound to a close at last, and Typhon sucked in a shaky breath. A moment later, Rowan yelped and stared, whispering, “Typhon…!”

Typhon’s eyes flew open and he ducked his head in embarrassment. He hadn’t meant to scare Rowan. He hadn’t meant to interrupt… it was just… it was cooler out here… “I’m… sorry,” he managed, biting his lower lip, “I… didn’t mean to interrupt. I could leave…”

[thebard]

"Leave...?" Rowan asked, still taken aback that Typhon was here with him, right now. After several days without seeing him, having him vanish again was the farthest thing from what he wanted. In fact, his mind began to play little videos in his mind of what Rowan really, REALLY wanted, and it was a little disconcerting... though somewhat enjoyable all at the same time. Shaking his head, Rowan forced himself to talk. "No!" He almost shouted as he flushed with embarrassment before clearing his throat. "I mean... no, please, don't leave..."

Rowan knew he was blushing, he could feel the tips of his ears radiate with heat. But, he didn't let that keep him form rambling on. "I... I mean that... I..." he continued, feeling like he should just stick his foot in his mouth. "... its been a couple of days, and... well, I missed your company."

That's when Rowan noticed what Typhon had with him. It looked like the big man wasn't in the present mind set for company. Meditation, as far as Rowan knew, didn't allow for conversation and such. Not that Typhon was much of a talker anyway. Regardless, it appeared that Rowan was probably best off leaving the big man be, as much as he didn't want to. Blinking, he began to put his instrument away, setting it carefully in its case. "But..." he said gently as he latched the case closed. "I'll leave you alone... you probably need to concentrate and stuff..."

[warriororiana]

Typhon’s eyebrows climbed into his hairline at Rowan’s rather startling reaction to his offer. Then he nodded in understanding. Ah. Rowan didn’t have many friends, and Typhon had been busy. He must have felt lonely.

The big man followed Rowan’s gaze to the things he was carrying in his hands. Concentrate? He supposed he had to a little… but music wouldn’t interfere…

“My room climate control went berserk,” Typhon explained. “I was trying to escape the heat. We could both use the rooftop. I won’t make noise to disrupt your playing… your playing won’t disrupt my practice… If you wouldn’t mind…”

He frowned curiously, “What were you playing?”

[thebard]

Rowan's smile increased as Typhon asked him to stay... but it made him nervous at the same time. Ty seemed incredibly wise... would he catch on that Rowan was now nervous around him? Hoping that Ty wouldn't notice, Rowan offered p the brightest smile he could muster and opened his viola case once more. "If you're sure I won't be bothering you, I'll stay..." he said, pulling the instrument out once more and standing up. "And you most assuredly won't be a bother to me..."

'Accept for the fact that I'm having issues with being secretly attracted to you!' Rowan thought to himself as he moved to sit on an some exposed piping to fix his bow, trying his best not to notice Typhon's rippling muscles. "... and the piece I was playing was something that I wrote a long time ago," he answered Typhon's question as he fixed his bow, his viola set carefully on his lap as he did. "With a few embellishments, of course. I love to improvise, sometimes. Keeps me on my toes."

After fixing the bow to is satisfaction, he set the instrument under his chin again and drew forth some quick notes, testing the bow's strength. "This is my favorite instrument," he said gently as he tuned a peg or two, plucking at the strings to check the pitch. He really didn't need to tune it anymore, but he had to do something to keep from staring like a drooling animal at Typhon's quite exquisite masculine form. "After that it's the piano... but I love stringed instruments. Something old and magical about them."

[warriororiana]

Typhon raised an eyebrow as he watched Rowan reach back into the case for his viola. The Bard was taking pains not to look over at Typhon. Being so careful that it was becoming noticeable. He made a noise indicating he was impressed when he heard that Rowan had composed the earlier piece. It was a beautiful piece. A little melancholy, but all the more beautiful for that.

Now he was tuning his viola. He’d been playing it a moment ago. Typhon didn’t know much about playing instruments, but he was fairly certain that stringed instruments didn’t lose their tuning after only one song… So it was subterfuge. Something to do to avoid doing something else. Was Rowan that uneasy around him? Maybe he ought to reconsider staying… But, he hadn’t shown any unease the first time they’d met. None of the usual fear or disquiet that others showed. Was it… something else? It could merely that the young man had had so few friends he wasn’t sure how to behave around others. Leaving wouldn’t help. It would be kindest to pretend not to notice all the awkwardness and let Rowan find his own way of dealing with his nervousness.

Typhon nodded to himself, decided. He would pretend he didn’t see, and eventually Rowan would settle down and stop being so nervous around him. Typhon certainly was patient enough to wait out the jitters. He moved a few feet to the side and bent to lay his mat out flat. The towel was hung over a convenient bit of pipe and the water set on the ground below the towel. Then Typhon tugged the shirt off, sighing softly in relief as the breeze hit his overheated skin. He rolled his shoulders to loosen them and began a series of stretches. He was a little stiff from dealing with the tech problems.

With his muscles properly warmed up, Typhon took a position on the mat and began a series of yoga poses, starting with some simple, straight-forward ones, and moving into the more convoluted positions. The ones that usually left people staring in a mixture of awe and imagined pain.

It took a few minutes for Rowan to begin playing again. But eventually the music began again, a little shaky at first but quickly smoothing out into a liquid grace. It was a lovely counterpoint to his movements, and he found himself holding poses longer, using the music to time himself.

[thebard]

Rowan breathed an inward sigh of relief when Typhon appeared not to take notice of the awkwardness that Rowan had begun to feel around him. Thanking the night silently for that little bit of luck, Rowan set his viola under his chin again and was about to play when Typhon took his shirt off...

That made Rowan freeze, unable to even get the first note out...

Rowan's eyes wandered excitedly over Typhon's entire form as the man began to stretch. The muscles of Ty's back bunched and relaxed, as did the muscles of his arms, chest, and legs. Rowan even dared to lean backward to catch a better peek at Ty's backside. 'No, no, no!' Rowan chided himself, squeezing his eyes shut. 'No... don't do this to yourself, don't do this to HIM! Last thing you wanna do is scare away the first friend you made since being here!'

Eyes still squeezed shut with his bow upon the strings of his viola, Rowan began to play. His hands was trembling along with the rest of his body, but soon, the music began to take over. Within a few moments, he was pulling a lovely Irish tune he loved from memory, having heard it several times from his massive collection of cd's. Hopefully, this would be enough to keep him from gawking.

[warriororiana]

Typhon continued his yoga for more than a half hour, before finally standing and moving to the towel and water. He drank deeply of the water, breathing a sigh of relief. He was finally feeling a little more balanced and calm.

He looked over the rooftop to the view of the area. His gaze traveled until it lit on Rowan again, sawing away at the viola. Typhon leaned against the pipe for a moment, marveling at the sound. To think, someone had strung cat-gut on a stick, and rubbed it against strings to produce music. And then other people had put those notes together to create masterpieces that tugged at the very soul. And because of his magic, Rowan’s music was even more poignant, more lively, more… well… just MORE.

Typhon shook himself from his reverie. At this rate, his muscles would cool again. He took his place on the mat again, and this time slid into the supple, slow, studied moves of Tai Chi. He concentrated on every pose, careful to be as exacting as he could be. His muscles shifted under his skin and he used that to judge whether or not he’d gotten the motion right. He watched his hands sweep through the air, musing as he always did, that this was the closest he got to being graceful. The breeze caressed his skin, growing cooler without the sun to warm it. He ignored it, intent on the poses.

The music changed once more, complimenting his movement with deft skill. The corner of Typhon’s mouth quirked up in his almost-smile in appreciation. The poses came with more ease tonight than they ever had, and Typhon was sure it was due to the music. He almost felt… nimble. It was extraordinarily sweet… and bitterly cruel as well… to bring him so close to his dream. Part of Typhon mourned the fleetingness, but the rest of him simply enjoyed the moment.

[thebard]

Rowan played another song from his childhood. Playing these pieces brought back memories of his father, whom he missed so very much. The notes brought him happiness at times, and other times they made him want to weep. The song that he played now made him happy, trying to divert his attention away from gawking at Typhon. The man appeared almost uncomfortable in his own skin, and the last thing Rowan wanted was to make his friend uncomfortable by staring at him. And Ro could only imagine how Ty would react if he knew his real feelings! That would be simply disastrous!!

Instead, Roan found solace in his music, temporarily blocking all these new found emotions with his viola. His body seemed to move as if of its own accord, swaying with each stroke of the bow as the notes resonated into the air. And, when the song ended and he as brought back to reality, he opened his eyes back up to see that Ty was still with him... moving as gracefully as a man his size could in what Ro guess could only be Tai Chi.

Pausing, Rowan pulled the instrument from under his chin and watched he man silently. He couldn't help himself! Typhon's body, despite the tattoos and scars was such a piece of art unto itself, it dazzled he bard into another fit of gawking. Slowly Typhon moved form pose to pose, the muscles of his arms and chest slipped and bunched beneath the man's skin in an almost hypnotic way. Rowan simply was frozen, his eyes filled with unbridled admiration bordering on desire. Maybe even lust. He had never experienced feelings like this, even when he hit puberty... and the fact that they were surfacing now, with his inability to comprehend them, was making him a pile of pudding.

Finally, Ro noted that Typhon had stopped moving... was staring at him with a lofted, almost confused brow that almost arched up to his hairline. "I..." Rowan began, his cheeks flushing a brilliant shade of crimson. But, try as he might, all ability to speak was lost in his embarrassment. What could he possibly say?? He was all but drooling looking at Typhon's body!! "I'm sorry..."

[warriororiana]

Lost as he was in the movements and concentration needed to make those poses fluid, it took Typhon several minutes before he realized there wasn’t any music playing. He blinked and straightened from the last pose, looking over at Rowan curiously.

The young man was gaping at him openly, his cheeks flushed, his mouth slack. Typhon was used to stares, but once again, Typhon was caught by the complete lack of horrified astonishment in Rowan’s stare. In fact, this stare had a distinct note of admiration to it. Or… something more? Typhon dismissed that last notion as pure, ridiculous fancy.

Typhon lifted one eyebrow, communicating a silent inquiry. It took Rowan a moment… and then he seemed to come out of a trance, suddenly blushing a bright red and stammered an apology. Typhon shook his head, dismissing the attempts at apology. There was no need. If Typhon bridled at every stare, he’d spend most of his life angry. He strode the few steps to the pipe and scooped up his water, taking a long pull at the bottle. Then looked back at Rowan, who was shuffling his feet in embarrassment. Typhon crossed the roof to Rowan and stopped in front of him. “Is something wrong?” He reached out and clasped Rowan’s shoulder loosely. “Are you all right?”

[thebard]

Rowan was ready to scoop up his stuff and flee... flee from the embarrassment, flee from the rejection. He was all to surprised when Typhon clasped his shoulder gently and asked, in a very concerned voice, if Rowan was all right. "I... I, um..." Rowan babbled, looking at Typhon's hand to follow his arm up to the man's face. There was such kindness there, Rowan felt weak in the knees... but no. No! He had to buck up... realize that this was a friendship and nothing more. He wouldn't lose Typhon to a boyish crush. He just couldn't! "Yes... I'm all right..." Rowan managed at last, thanking whatever was watching over hm that Typhon apparently hadn't noted the emotion behind Rowan's gawking.

"You're... you're just so graceful!" Rowan lied... only in part. To him, Typhon WAS graceful... but he had left out why he was had acted the way he did. It wasn't because of he movements, it was how desirable Typhon was while he did them. "I have never seen anyone do that before. It was Tai Chi, right?"

Pushing his hormones to the recesses of his subconscious as best as he as able, Rowan smiled up at his big friend, his honey brown eyes reflecting the moonlight high above them. "You're... the coolest, most interesting person I have ever met," Rowan said in all honesty. "You're strong, you're graceful, you're nice..." He looked down at Typhon's feet, flicking his eyes up ti Ty's face and back down at his next statement... "Your girlfriend is a very, very lucky lady."

[warriororiana]

Typhon’s eyebrows were going to take up permanent residence in his hair if Rowan kept up his stream of compliments much longer. Was the poor boy INSANE?! Cool?! Okay, maybe if you were into ink, which a few people had been and had been entranced by Typhon’s tattoos. Interesting… that was believable. Plenty of people found his scars and tattoos interesting. And Rowan hadn’t met many people, so in comparison to the small pool he had to draw from, yes, those compliments could apply loosely. Strong… okay, he could see that. But… GRACEFUL?!

Clearly he’d never seen someone truly graceful perform Tai Chi. Emotion roughed Typhon’s already gravelly voice, “Yes, that was Tai Chi.” He looked away from Rowan, his jaw tightening briefly. “I do not have a girlfriend.” He knew the young man didn’t mean to be cruel. His comment was utterly innocent. However it struck a sore point. Typhon took pains to keep himself busy and focused, but even so, there were times the loneliness was difficult to endure. Typhon had never had a romantic relationship. Rowan had inadvertently struck a deep wound with his ingenuous compliments.

Typhon released the young man and headed for his water again, taking the opportunity to breathe deeply to restore his poise. Center and ground, he reminded himself. Let the pain go. Let regret go. As practiced as he was, it didn’t take long to regain his composure. He set the water on the ground and looked over at Rowan. “Would you like to learn?” He waved the Bard to come over to the mat. “Take your shoes off.”

He kicked Rowan’s shoes off to the side as soon as the young man took them off, and then pointed to the center of the mat. When Rowan stood where indicated, Typhon began moving his limbs to get them into the starting position. When Rowan was posed to his satisfaction, Typhon nodded, “Remember this stance. Now breathe deeply. Imagine you are a tree with roots dug deep into the ground. Your weight is distributed evenly over your roots. You stand tall and solid. Your crown reaches toward the sky. Your spine is your core.” Rowan’s eyes slipped closed as he pictured it as Typhon asked. Visibly his body lengthened and almost relaxed into the stance. Typhon nodded in satisfaction.

“Open your eyes. Move as I do. First pose…”

Typhon stood next to Rowan, moving into the first pose slowly so the Bard could see how it was done. And then he moved behind the young man, reaching around him to help him find the proper movement. “Concentrate,” Typhon rumbled, inches from Rowan’s ear. “Feel the movement. Feel your connection with the ground. Move like the tree limbs dancing in the wind… fluid, sure, graceful. Go slowly for now until you are sure of the pose.” He released Rowan’s arms. “Again. Do it again. From the beginning.”

Typhon watched him critically, then reached forward to correct the movement. “Like this… feel it.” They repeated the first pose until Typhon was sure Rowan had it down. At least enough for a first time. Practice would get it smoother. He showed the Bard the next pose and once again moved behind him to help position him correctly.

“There… do you feel it?” Typhon asked, bent close to Rowan’s ear again. Curiously, the Bard shivered as though cold. Mmm… it was getting late… “Are you cold?”

[thebard]

Cold....?! How in the WORLD could he be COLD?!?! Typhon had, just moments ago, been was standing behind him, his breath brushing his ear, his arms around him... Good GOD!! How in Heaven's blessed name could Rowan be COLD?! He was heated so much, he may as well have been a melted pile of flesh right there on the mat!!!

His cheeks flushing in an almost radiating shade of purple-red, Rowan shook his head at Ty's question. But could he speak?? He could barely manage enough control over his body to remain standing let alone speak!!!

Shivers were running up and down Rowan's spine as he felt Typhon's face near his ear. How he just wanted to turn around and kiss those slips! OH! Those LIPS! That almost-smile!!! Rowan felt like he was going to go insane with need!!! And... Typhon was single to boot! That meant he was free game, right? If only Rowan could muster the courage to just tell Typhon how he felt... tell him what was happening inside of him right now. The closeness, the half-smiles, the way Typhon looked in his open shirt...!!! But... no.

"I-I'm okay..." Rowan managed at last.

No... he wouldn't say anything. Typhon's friendship meant too much to him.