[Ellie waits it out- if he wants to talk, he'll talk, and if he won't then he won't. Of course, more things happen in the meantime. They're always happening.]
Because it sounds like you could do with a break from all the bullshit for a while, and I know a place.
[A break would definitely be welcome, even if he's torn on whether he has the mental and emotional energy to be playing like things are fine long enough to talk to someone in person.
But he's going to need to today anyway, so he might as well start off by doing something that might be a nice distraction.]
[Some part of this is a shot in the dark -- music, for Ellie, is a way to blow off steam, a way to sort thoughts. Much like art. She has no idea what it represents for him, but it's a universal reset.
And if he wants to talk, well. They'll cross that bridge when they come to it. But for now doing something else, anything else-]
[There's a little pause, but she comes back to it. Every time they talk, seems like she's more grateful for the small things, like him noticing but not pushing her with questions.]
Me too. You can get along just fine with three, but I missed playing.
Anyway, come by when you want, ask for me at the door and I'll take care of your cover charge
I can't imagine trying to play piano with missing fingers, let alone guitar.
Okay, thank you. I'll be there an hour or so.
[This seems like a good way to try to get in a better frame of mind before he talks to Jack about sharing the information they'd found out, and then doubtlessly has to deal with more commentary on the network.
And as promised, about an hour later he arrives, asking for Ellie at the door as requested.]
[It's something they'll talk about someday, she thinks -- but not now, not today, not when things are already so... this.
The Mermaid is shut up tight, it being around the middle of the day, but when Lance knocks a woman who looks to be around her mid-forties comes to the door, looks him over, then opens it to let him inside.
The dive's clearly not open to the greater public right now, but the woman -- who has a shimmery tattoo of what look like turquoise scales along her shoulder, neck and upper arm -- heads back behind the counter to resume working on a large inventory of bottles. She nods at him, gestures towards what looks like a small, raised stage back in the corner.]
Head on over, kid.
[There's an assortment of instruments out, including the piano. Ellie's sitting on a chair, picking at an acoustic guitar.
Her arms are bare this time, showing her impressive collection of scars and the sleeve on her right arm of a moth and two ferns -- which seems to be covering some type of burn scar.]
Lance.
[Ellie waves him over -- they have some limited amount of privacy back here, but not too much.]
[The place is interesting for sure, and so is the woman who answers the door; the tattoo alone is striking and it's honestly pretty cool. He offers her a faint but genuine smile and a nod, thanking her for her help before moving over to the stage as directed and finding Ellie there.]
I did, thanks.
[He's dressed casually but his shoes are nicer, making an odd contrast, but he hasn't gone home and had left the apartment in more formal wear, so while picking up a change of clothes at a store was easy enough he wasn't going to bother buying new shoes. Otherwise, he looks tired but focused, noting Ellie's tattoos--everyone's got cool tattoos here apparently--and what they seem to be covering, but not making any mention of it.
Instead he wanders a little further toward the piano, resting his fingers on the keys but not pressing them just yet.]
This is where you work, right?
[Not like it's a difficult guess considering the context so far, but still.]
[Ellie's eyes can't pick out brand new clothes yet; everything looks new to her. But she's gaining an eye for Lance himself, and this isn't his usual matchup. She can't quite put her finger on it. She's more preoccupied with how tired he looks, like he's been burying himself in his work.
... and more than that, probably. Though she doesn't know about what went down with Kyna, she knows that he's sensitive to what people think of him. Knows that he presses ahead anyway. It's part of why she likes him. Not because he doesn't give a fuck, but because he does. Lance gives a fuck about everything.
Ellie turns to him, bracing the body of the guitar over her thigh and giving it an idle strum.]
Yep. Security. That's Ruth- she's the boss around here.
[She leans in a little, lowering her voice.]
She might try to hire you for a gig if you're good. You can say no.
[Ellie leans back, picking out a few notes on the guitar, finishing up with tuning it.]
[Being sensitive really sucks sometimes, especially when he knows he should be--and sometimes is--better at brushing this sort of thing off. But it's also got its good points, like how strongly he can feel that she genuinely cares and is trying to help, and at least for the moment it makes everything suck a significant amount less.
He offers a small smile at the warning, sitting down at the piano, though he doesn't play just yet. Instead, he sends Ellie a message that he doesn't want to ask outloud, just in case.]
Do you know how okay she is with Displaced?
[Because if Ruth is chill, then he might play with his power a little at the same time as the piano. He used to combine magic and music in Hadriel, which was a lot of fun, and he's wanted an opportunity to try doing the same thing with his power here.]
[Ellie returns the smile, picking at the strings as Lance sends her the message. It's been a little unsettling the first few times, but she's getting better at responding without being obvious about it. After a moment of thought, she answers.]
I don't know. She doesn't know about me. But she was the one who hooked me up with a doctor to get my fingers fixed. She's never asked.
[Ruth's not stupid, if Lance outs himself as a displaced, she's sure that Ruth will put two and two together about her. But after a moment of consideration, she decides she's fine with that. There's much worse people to take the plunge with.]
[The decision is easy; even if Ellie doesn't seem too concerned by the implications of Lance's question, it isn't worth it to take even a small chance for something so frivolous as playing with his power.
So instead he listens to the few notes Ellie plays, letting his hand drift over the keys of the piano to find the correct set and repeat the string of notes back.]
Now I'm real curious about what you were gonna do.
[Ellie shoots him a smile as he repeats the notes back to her. She'd just been picking at the strings, something thrown out, but she goes back over them, bouncing it back to him in a different chord, picking up the power of it, playing it a few times before she starts threading together a simple melody. Once, then twice, the back to those first notes, opening it up for him.]
[Splitting his attention three ways is tricky even for Lance, but he does his best anyway; he listens to Ellie's playing and responds appropriately, sending her another mental message at the same time.]
My power is to generate sound, so I can play some simple notes with it. Much less cool than what I could do in the last place I was, which was make the keys glow when I hit them.
[It was so showoffy but so fun. And okay, three different mental tasks is a bit too much, and it doesn't help that the hand he broke a few years ago is a little stiff; he misses a note or two and cringes visibly, refocusing on what he's doing and quickly getting back on track.]
Texting and playing music aren't meant to go together, apparently.
[Talking is fine, though; he talks while playing music all the time.]
[Ellie snickers at the way Lance cringes, and after a momentary pause, plays the wrong notes right back at them, sliding her fingers as if there's some sort of flair they were purposely going for, playing it off.
Hey, embrace your flaws. She gets back to it, trying to work it in. Maybe less than successfully.]
Not for now anyway.
[They play back and forth before Ellie starts to added a strain of melody, weaving them together, going back to the bridge to give Lance room. She's still not as great with her prosthetic fingers as she's used to, but it's definitely passable, and getting better.
The point is to get them warmed up and into this, just bouncing the tune back and forth.]
[Embrace your flaws is totally a sentiment he would tell other people, but it's one of many things he would advise someone to do but then absolutely couldn't do himself. Perfectionism is one of those traits he's never been able to shake, even if his embarrassment redirects to amusement as Ellie incorporates the mistakes into the music. She's good at this, more so than expected, and it's an interesting thing to learn about her; she seems to have a lot of confidence to go with the skill too.
He lets her lead for the most part, but adds in a little bit of layering to the melody where appropriate; this is a nice thing to focus on, and a great distraction from everything else going on.]
How have you been adjusting, by the way?
[He asks vaguely just to be careful, though he doubts they could be overheard too easily at this point with both instruments going.]
[It's happened enough now for Ellie to see the pattern; and it's probably so obvious to Ellie because it was exactly what Dina did for everyone around her, utterly unfailing. Check on others, keep the focus off of herself, take care of other people. Feel settled when they're settled.
Even if Ellie wouldn't be able to explain all the psychological factors and layers of self-worth and re-orienting and comfort that go into that, she recognizes it all the same, and knows that it'll ultimately help Lance if she rolls with it for now instead of calling it out.
So she gives him an assessing glance, that little knowing smile that Dina always fucking hated, and nods back.]
Pretty awesome. Got a job, a place of my own, people checking in.
[She lowers her voice, almost playful.]
Nobody's tried to kill me in weeks.
[It'd be paradise if the safety didn't make her so fucking nervous. It feels like when she first came to Jackson, overwhelmed by suddenly having enough to eat, a warm place to sleep, a roof over her head. No constant danger. No fighting for every breath of survival.]
[That look doesn't go unnoticed, but it only gets a purposefully affected, slightly suspicious narrowing of his eyes before he lets it go, refocusing on her answer. It's good to hear that everything has worked out so far, especially since she hasn't been here that long; it takes much longer for some people to find a place to live, or to get a job, or just to simply move beyond the shock of finding themselves in a new world and having to start over.
But then again, he gets the sense that Ellie might be used to that sort of thing.
Her last comment earns a short exhale of breath that isn't quite a laugh, because the statement isn't really something to laugh at and yet had an inherent humor to it, especially with her delivery.]
[Monster attacks aside, day to day life is... Calm, at least in regard to external danger. In many ways it's like Lance's world, and yet he'd spent so much time in Hadriel that this still feels like an incredible change to marvel at rather than just a return to normalcy.]
Have you gotten used to all the food choices? I mean, I know people complain about the lack of meat and the fake dairy and all that, but there's still so much variety.
[Ellie's smile turns to the edge of a more playful grin, a burst of something small but genuine, a glimpse of who she is underneath all the hard edges Lance has seen her lead with. Ellie keeps playing, going off script to improvise something simple, not paying much attention for the sake of a repeat.]
Don't think I ever will. Still haven't gotten used to all the fruit yet. Used to be finding a patch of blueberries was...
[Ellie shakes her head, breathes out. There's nothing she knows that Lance would recognize that really compares.]
Huge. If I tried to make half the street food here back at home it'd be the fanciest thing I'd eaten all year.
[He can't truly understand what it's like, though he has a little experience; options in Hadriel had been incredibly limited, and his early life hadn't been great in that respect either. But he can still get a sense from her tone and the way she responds, and he has to ask--]
Do you have a favorite? Or are there still too many different choices to be able to narrow it down yet?
[God, it is hard to narrow it down, but she does try.]
Probably the pancakes. Used to make them at home when we could get the stuff for them, but they make them a million different ways out here, and the giant fluffy ones are like eating a cloud.
[It's also not too cloyingly sweet for her taste.]
[He distinctly remembers the first time he had them here, after being in Hadriel; Ian had made them one day while staying over at Lance and Kyna's place after the monster attack. Lance hadn't even thought about them as an option until then, still adjusting to the new setting.
That leads into the answer to her question, though--]
I'm always partial to muffins. And blueberries, to hearken back to you mentioning them, but then combining those two things produces blueberry muffins, which are more than the sum of their parts.
[He's joking a little in the sense of how dramatically he's wording it, but not about his love for blueberry muffins.]
[Joking or not, blueberries are serious business, and so are blueberry muffins. Ellie's small smile grows into something softer, more genuine as Lance speaks, and she plays with the strings thoughtfully.]
Y'know.
That muffin you gave me when I first got here wasn't half bad, either.
[She hadn't said it at the time, and that still haunts her. Just a little. Even if she'll never admit to it.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lifetothefullest) wrote2019-08-25 08:38 pm
no subject
Because it sounds like you could do with a break from all the bullshit for a while, and I know a place.
You play anything or just like to listen?
no subject
But he's going to need to today anyway, so he might as well start off by doing something that might be a nice distraction.]
Both, though I'm only really good at piano.
no subject
And if he wants to talk, well. They'll cross that bridge when they come to it. But for now doing something else, anything else-]
You ever jam with other people?
no subject
Not since college, but I have, yeah.
no subject
If you just wanna listen you can, but if you want to play something, they've got this old saloon piano. We can stick around after hours.
Fixed up my fingers, so I can even get on the guitar for you.
no subject
I'm glad to hear that, about your fingers.
no subject
Me too. You can get along just fine with three, but I missed playing.
Anyway, come by when you want, ask for me at the door and I'll take care of your cover charge
no subject
Okay, thank you. I'll be there an hour or so.
[This seems like a good way to try to get in a better frame of mind before he talks to Jack about sharing the information they'd found out, and then doubtlessly has to deal with more commentary on the network.
And as promised, about an hour later he arrives, asking for Ellie at the door as requested.]
no subject
[It's something they'll talk about someday, she thinks -- but not now, not today, not when things are already so... this.
The Mermaid is shut up tight, it being around the middle of the day, but when Lance knocks a woman who looks to be around her mid-forties comes to the door, looks him over, then opens it to let him inside.
The dive's clearly not open to the greater public right now, but the woman -- who has a shimmery tattoo of what look like turquoise scales along her shoulder, neck and upper arm -- heads back behind the counter to resume working on a large inventory of bottles. She nods at him, gestures towards what looks like a small, raised stage back in the corner.]
Head on over, kid.
[There's an assortment of instruments out, including the piano. Ellie's sitting on a chair, picking at an acoustic guitar.
Her arms are bare this time, showing her impressive collection of scars and the sleeve on her right arm of a moth and two ferns -- which seems to be covering some type of burn scar.]
Lance.
[Ellie waves him over -- they have some limited amount of privacy back here, but not too much.]
Find the place okay?
no subject
I did, thanks.
[He's dressed casually but his shoes are nicer, making an odd contrast, but he hasn't gone home and had left the apartment in more formal wear, so while picking up a change of clothes at a store was easy enough he wasn't going to bother buying new shoes. Otherwise, he looks tired but focused, noting Ellie's tattoos--everyone's got cool tattoos here apparently--and what they seem to be covering, but not making any mention of it.
Instead he wanders a little further toward the piano, resting his fingers on the keys but not pressing them just yet.]
This is where you work, right?
[Not like it's a difficult guess considering the context so far, but still.]
no subject
... and more than that, probably. Though she doesn't know about what went down with Kyna, she knows that he's sensitive to what people think of him. Knows that he presses ahead anyway. It's part of why she likes him. Not because he doesn't give a fuck, but because he does. Lance gives a fuck about everything.
Ellie turns to him, bracing the body of the guitar over her thigh and giving it an idle strum.]
Yep. Security. That's Ruth- she's the boss around here.
[She leans in a little, lowering her voice.]
She might try to hire you for a gig if you're good. You can say no.
[Ellie leans back, picking out a few notes on the guitar, finishing up with tuning it.]
no subject
He offers a small smile at the warning, sitting down at the piano, though he doesn't play just yet. Instead, he sends Ellie a message that he doesn't want to ask outloud, just in case.]
Do you know how okay she is with Displaced?
[Because if Ruth is chill, then he might play with his power a little at the same time as the piano. He used to combine magic and music in Hadriel, which was a lot of fun, and he's wanted an opportunity to try doing the same thing with his power here.]
no subject
I don't know. She doesn't know about me. But she was the one who hooked me up with a doctor to get my fingers fixed. She's never asked.
[Ruth's not stupid, if Lance outs himself as a displaced, she's sure that Ruth will put two and two together about her. But after a moment of consideration, she decides she's fine with that. There's much worse people to take the plunge with.]
no subject
[The decision is easy; even if Ellie doesn't seem too concerned by the implications of Lance's question, it isn't worth it to take even a small chance for something so frivolous as playing with his power.
So instead he listens to the few notes Ellie plays, letting his hand drift over the keys of the piano to find the correct set and repeat the string of notes back.]
no subject
[Ellie shoots him a smile as he repeats the notes back to her. She'd just been picking at the strings, something thrown out, but she goes back over them, bouncing it back to him in a different chord, picking up the power of it, playing it a few times before she starts threading together a simple melody. Once, then twice, the back to those first notes, opening it up for him.]
no subject
My power is to generate sound, so I can play some simple notes with it. Much less cool than what I could do in the last place I was, which was make the keys glow when I hit them.
[It was so showoffy but so fun. And okay, three different mental tasks is a bit too much, and it doesn't help that the hand he broke a few years ago is a little stiff; he misses a note or two and cringes visibly, refocusing on what he's doing and quickly getting back on track.]
Texting and playing music aren't meant to go together, apparently.
[Talking is fine, though; he talks while playing music all the time.]
no subject
[Ellie snickers at the way Lance cringes, and after a momentary pause, plays the wrong notes right back at them, sliding her fingers as if there's some sort of flair they were purposely going for, playing it off.
Hey, embrace your flaws. She gets back to it, trying to work it in. Maybe less than successfully.]
Not for now anyway.
[They play back and forth before Ellie starts to added a strain of melody, weaving them together, going back to the bridge to give Lance room. She's still not as great with her prosthetic fingers as she's used to, but it's definitely passable, and getting better.
The point is to get them warmed up and into this, just bouncing the tune back and forth.]
no subject
He lets her lead for the most part, but adds in a little bit of layering to the melody where appropriate; this is a nice thing to focus on, and a great distraction from everything else going on.]
How have you been adjusting, by the way?
[He asks vaguely just to be careful, though he doubts they could be overheard too easily at this point with both instruments going.]
no subject
Even if Ellie wouldn't be able to explain all the psychological factors and layers of self-worth and re-orienting and comfort that go into that, she recognizes it all the same, and knows that it'll ultimately help Lance if she rolls with it for now instead of calling it out.
So she gives him an assessing glance, that little knowing smile that Dina always fucking hated, and nods back.]
Pretty awesome. Got a job, a place of my own, people checking in.
[She lowers her voice, almost playful.]
Nobody's tried to kill me in weeks.
[It'd be paradise if the safety didn't make her so fucking nervous. It feels like when she first came to Jackson, overwhelmed by suddenly having enough to eat, a warm place to sleep, a roof over her head. No constant danger. No fighting for every breath of survival.]
no subject
But then again, he gets the sense that Ellie might be used to that sort of thing.
Her last comment earns a short exhale of breath that isn't quite a laugh, because the statement isn't really something to laugh at and yet had an inherent humor to it, especially with her delivery.]
Yeah, it's surprisingly... Quiet, here. Despite everything.
[Monster attacks aside, day to day life is... Calm, at least in regard to external danger. In many ways it's like Lance's world, and yet he'd spent so much time in Hadriel that this still feels like an incredible change to marvel at rather than just a return to normalcy.]
Have you gotten used to all the food choices? I mean, I know people complain about the lack of meat and the fake dairy and all that, but there's still so much variety.
no subject
Don't think I ever will. Still haven't gotten used to all the fruit yet. Used to be finding a patch of blueberries was...
[Ellie shakes her head, breathes out. There's nothing she knows that Lance would recognize that really compares.]
Huge. If I tried to make half the street food here back at home it'd be the fanciest thing I'd eaten all year.
no subject
Do you have a favorite? Or are there still too many different choices to be able to narrow it down yet?
no subject
[God, it is hard to narrow it down, but she does try.]
Probably the pancakes. Used to make them at home when we could get the stuff for them, but they make them a million different ways out here, and the giant fluffy ones are like eating a cloud.
[It's also not too cloyingly sweet for her taste.]
What about you? Find any winners?
no subject
[He distinctly remembers the first time he had them here, after being in Hadriel; Ian had made them one day while staying over at Lance and Kyna's place after the monster attack. Lance hadn't even thought about them as an option until then, still adjusting to the new setting.
That leads into the answer to her question, though--]
I'm always partial to muffins. And blueberries, to hearken back to you mentioning them, but then combining those two things produces blueberry muffins, which are more than the sum of their parts.
[He's joking a little in the sense of how dramatically he's wording it, but not about his love for blueberry muffins.]
no subject
Y'know.
That muffin you gave me when I first got here wasn't half bad, either.
[She hadn't said it at the time, and that still haunts her. Just a little. Even if she'll never admit to it.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)