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Post by August Hewelt on Jun 24, 2009 6:18:49 GMT
August had stared down at his chest that morning when he woke up. His fingers running lightly across the scars that had been made by Lucy in the staff room. He chuckled a little, thinking about the way his body had felt when they were being made, and the rush that came from knowing that at any moment a counselor or other staff member could come in. His body was well toned, not complete muscle, as he did seem a little thin as well in that area, but most people seemed to stare not at it, but at the scars that covered it. Each scar or set of scars he'd created a story for, not the true story of how he got them, but a story nonetheless.
He threw on a black shirt and put on his navy blue blazer he had had to wear at Breckenridge, the school's emblem sewn onto the right side of it. Why he had decided to put this on today, he really wasn't sure, maybe he wanted to cover up the scratch marks Lucy had given to his arm, so that the workers couldn't see them. Give it a few days for them to fade and he'd probably be back in short sleeves.
Leaving his cell he started to wander. He really had no idea where it was he was wanting to go to. Food? No. Outside? No. His feet shuffled across the floor, and that's when he started to pass it. The music room. Opening the door he noticed that no one else was inside. Closing the door behind him, he made his way over to the drums. Sitting down he picked up the sticks that had been left on the snare by whoever had been there before him.
He started tapping out a beat, before he just let loose. It might seem a little weird for anyone passing by to see someone that looked like August on the drums. He just didn't look like what your typical drummer did. Then again what did a typical drummer look like?
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Post by Ashleigh Summers on Jun 28, 2009 20:54:58 GMT
 well, i've got one foot on the platformthe other foot on the traini'm going back to new orleans[/size] to wear that ball and chain[/size][/center] Ashleigh sat up from her bed in her cell, awaken by a nightmare of her mother. It had been a while since she had a nightmare - usually her sleep was dreamless - but this time she'd been tossing and turning all through the night, before being awoken by the sun falling through her barred-window. She looked at the clock on the wall; it was around ten fifty-five. She got out of the bed and undressed from her sleeping gown, and put on a simple t-shirt and jeans. She sat on her bed for a while, flipping through the pages of her Harry Potter book, but after a few minutes she started to feel restless and longed for a walk, or at least to get out of the cell. She got up and headed for the art room, only to find it locked for some reason. Perhaps the nurses had forgotten to open it up, since most of the rooms where locked during the night. She thought nothing more of it, and headed for the music room, wanting to try out the new piano they had gotten about a week earlier.
Upon entering the room, she noticed no one at first; but after a quick glance, she noticed a tall boy with dark hair in one of the corners, holding two drum sticks and tapping on the drums with a neat rhythm. Ashleigh had always been bothered by loud, sudden noises, so drums where never her favorite. She preferred the piano above anything else, but the guitar came second, although she had no special talents at that. But she was considered a good piano player, since she has been taking lessons since she was around seven years old, and never missed a lesson until she turned fourteen. To her, it was the most beautiful sound in the world.
She passed the boy, or man, she did not know how old he was, having only seen him around a few times but never actually spoken to him. He looked older than a teenager, but not past twenty. And to be honest, he quite scared her. Not that it took a lot to frighten Ashleigh, but as she caught his eyes, she felt herself shudder involuntarily. But it was nothing, she thought to herself, she was just overreacting to something she didn't know herself.
She positioned herself in front of the piano, sitting down on the stool, and brushed her fingers over the notes, reaching the light end and tapped her finger on the highest note. The sound mixed in with the drumming, but she managed to ignore that. The piano was quite far away the drum kit, so she didn't think she'd bother the boy that much.
She started playing her favorite piece, Ode To Joy, and soon fell into a world of her own, suddenly oblivious to anyone else around here. [/color] open NOTES;[/color] none LYRICS;[/color] house of the rising sun - the animals CREDITS;[/color] this template was done by yours truly. don't steal it (:[/blockquote] [/right] |
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Post by August Hewelt on Jun 29, 2009 0:37:57 GMT
The beats continued out as the sticks hit against each member of the drum kit. The beats had gone from faint ones to loud melodic sounds one might here on a cd or at a concert during a drum solo, or right before the guitars come crashing in with some sick vocals. As he played he didn't seem to notice the new person come into the music room. Man he missed playing drums. Wait, maybe it wasn't the drum lessons he missed, but having to pay for them. That was always fun, maybe as fun as playing, or perhaps a little bit more, he had never decided which it was. Just never expect him to admit that he paid for anything with that. He'd deny it to his death bed, which hopefully would become sooner than later, despite being here. Everyday he was looking around for things he could use to give himself an interesting, peculiar...creative death.
He'd been going for a while on the drums that he needed to give his hands a break, not to mention the sticks. August didn't want to break them, as they had seemed to be the only ones there when he frst arrived. They couldn't possibly only have one pair of sticks? There was bound to be some others around there somewhere. The beats stopping he put the sticks on the top of the kick drum, and bit his lip. That was when his ears caught the sound of a piano playing. He knew that song. Ode to Joy, wasn't it?
Standing up he walked over to where the piano was to see the girl playing, she didn't even seem to notice him there. Smiling he walked a few steps and picked up one of the acoustic guitars, and sat down in a chair that was a little ways behind her. Sitting down he started to strum out the classic song on the guitar, something he had learned to do with several songs that most people had only heard played on the piano before. As he played behind her he wondered if this sound would snap her out of her sort of trance. If he kept playing it while she stopped would she turn around?
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Post by Ashleigh Summers on Jul 12, 2009 0:56:19 GMT
Ashleigh was in a world of her own playing softly the notes of Ode To Joy on the brand new piano. It wasn't until after about a minute when she heard another familiar sound. But she paid no attention to it, just kept on playing.
The sweet notes filled the air once more, and it played wonderfully with the guitar, and she soon lost herself again. Her mind wandered to gentle places, where she used to stay for hours when alone.
But the daydream soon became something darker, something evil, as the music was at its peak, and she felt herself fall down into nightmares yet again, a thing she was prone to do at the most inconvenient times. A image of her mother was enough to start her sobbing quietly, but her playing never stopped. It became more fierce, as fierce as the piece of the beautiful melody she was playing could get. After a while, she calmed down, and her music finally came to a halt. She looked back up at the guy sitting next to her, still playing the guitar so well. She envied him a bit, for she had never really been good at guitar playing, despite her desire for it.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't -- I didn't mean to disturb you," she apologized awkwardly, her hair hiding her face like curtains as she bowed her head in embarrassment, although she had no reason to, he didn't seem to have minded at all, since he had stopped his own drumming to go play the guitar along with her piano, play a beautiful classical piece of music.
"I ... you're really good," she added quietly, looking down at the guitar, avoiding his eyes. This guy didn't really bother her as much as he had as she passed him when going for the piano, but he still made her quite uncomfortable. Well, almost everyone made her uncomfortable, but that was an issue she would have to work on with herself. Living your life afraid of everyone, and everything, certainly wouldn't help her in any way, that was for sure.
// .notes. i don't really like this post, but yeah, hope its okay (: and sorry it took me so long to post. |
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Post by August Hewelt on Jul 14, 2009 9:15:59 GMT
The girl hadn't seemed to notice as he started to play with her. There was only a small section of August that thought she would have. He knew that if she was like him and tended to get into what he was playing, nothing could distract him. As he continued to play along with her he took note of just how much she was getting into it. He could hear her fingers fiercely pounding against the keys as his moved to form new chords, and his opposite hand brought the pick down against the strings. Their music seemed to come to a close at the same time, though while hers stopped completely, August continued, shifting his into an arrangement no one had heard before.
"It's alright. You didn't really disturb me"
he told her as she started apologizing. She honestly didn't need to be apologizing and he was almost ready to ask her what she was apologizing for, but decided against it. Maybe it had to do with his drumming before? He couldn't be sure, nor did he care enough to make sure.
"Thanks"
he flashed her a smile after she complimented his skills on the guitar. August wasn't quite sure she saw the smile though, as she seemed to be trying to avoid looking at him.
"I don't bite you know"
he said with a soft chuckle as his fingers continued forming new chords on the neck of the guitar. Biting his lip he swallowed quietly
Is the piano the only thing you play?"
he asked trying to think of something to ask her. Hopefully if she talked about something she liked, she would look at him, and it seemed she liked the piano. She had gotten so into it while she was playing, and usually only people who liked something got into it like that.
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Post by Ashleigh Summers on Jul 29, 2009 14:26:30 GMT
Ashleigh shifted uncomfortably in the seat as she traced her fingers over the piano notes, waiting for the boy to speak, or leave. But even though she was a bit frightened, and insecure, as she was with most strangers, it felt nice to find someone to talk to. But then again, they hadn't talked for ages, so things might soon spin out of control. She felt the urge to crawl under the next bed, and avoid confrontations of any sorts.
"Oh good, I just needed to distract myself from ... from ... stuff. This is about the only place that ever makes me feel okay. The i-instruments and the ... music," Ashleigh said, stuttering slightly. Although it wasn't very much like her to stutter, but it did occassionally happen.
"No, I play a bit of violin but I'm not, er, not very good. My mum said I'm rubbish, actually," she stopped short as she mentioned her mother. "At everything, she usually adds," Ash added herself. The fact her mother told her she was rubbish and worthless was usually something that happened daily. In fact, if Isabelle ever spoke to her, it was usually something along those lines.
notes: sorry it's so really short!
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