strangetrip | OTA: Fly me to the moon

Caden stood on the edge of the wide room - the Main Dance Floor, the plaque on the door said, with its polished hardwood floor, hot pink chairs, incredible chandeliers and enchanting rafters, but he only had eyes for what stood on the stage. Gleaming, perfect, beautiful, grand.

A piano.

Before heading out, Caden had put on make-up as one would an armour, heavy kohl around his eyes, glitter on his temples, and dressed in some of the clothes he'd found in the boutique. The navy waistcoat and slacks did not feel at all like him; they would not make anyone look twice at him. The cut and the fit were decent, but the color was dull. But there was not much at the boutique that fit him even remotely like he wanted it to, so he made do with the suit, keeping his shirt unbuttoned down the V of the waistcoat, and it sleeves rolled up to his elbows. With his hair pulled back in a ponytail and a strand 'accidentally' escaping it to frame one side of his face, it was a good enough fac simile of the way he would have dressed for a night of work at the Blues Palace.

But Caden might as well have been wearing one of his brighter, more Aurellian crochet tops and a skirt, for all that he cared about his appearance the moment his eyes landed on the piano. The martini he had just acquired at the bar next door all but forgotten in his hand, he walked towards the stage, drawn by a swell of emotions that all mingled with hope, with love, with faith.

He set the glass on the lip of the piano, took a seat on the stool, and reverently ran his hands over the keys. It was a few moments before he dared to play out a small tune, making sure that the instrument was tuned. His hands grew in confidence as he went on, and it wasn't long before he was running through the notes of one of the first songs he had ever played - and sung - in front of an audience. How long had it been since he had played it? The keys came back, little by little, muscle memory eventually winning the game of trial and error, the rings he wore glittering in the light as his fingers slid over black and white.

Eventually, Caden felt happy enough with his play that he started to sing along, in a low croon, "Fly me to the moon, Let me play among the stars, Let me see what Canwyn's like Among the sun and stars... In other words, hold my hand... In other words, darling, kiss me..."

Threaded | Flat

There was a schedule, thanks to Caroline, of regular nights for playing in the bar, but it was more a guideline than a requirement, if you asked Coby. He didn't think it was anybody's night, although it could be hard to keep track sometimes, the way the days all blurred together with nothing else to do. Still, no reason not to take his guitar with him when he went down to the bar for a drink. Maybe he'd play a few songs. Or more than a few, depending on who was around.

The music filtered through from the dance floor to the bar as Coby was waiting on his drink, and at first he thought it was a recording. He knew he didn't recognize the voice as anybody here at the inn. But no, the simple piano and voice was live and in person, he decided. Just unknown.

In trying to place it, he hadn't paid much attention to what Kitty was doing behind the bar. He'd asked her to surprise him with whatever she'd been experimenting with or enjoying making lately. She handed him a glass garnished with mint and a slice of cucumber, and he thanked her with a nod and a smile, taking a sip as he went to see if it was a recent arrival or someone who'd been hiding musical talents for awhile now.

He paused just inside the doorway, setting his gig bag against the wall, and just listened, not wanting to interrupt the song for something as unimportant as introductions. He'd caught a glimpse or two of the guy who'd probably come in the latest arrival day, since he wasn't the type you could miss, gorgeous guy with amazing hair, who wore the dressier clothes without looking like he was wearing a Suit, or worse like the suit was wearing him. Coby, in faded jeans so broken in they were velvet soft, ripped knee and all, and a v-neck tee just as soft worn, his beach-waved blond hair pulled back in a sloppy man-bun was a stark contrast.

Not that that mattered to him. The guy could sing.

For one heart-stopping second, Curnen swore that was a Tufa at the piano.

She knew almost immediately after she had that thought that he was not. If another Tufa had appeared at the inn, she would have sensed it when it happened. They were aware of each other in a way that was difficult to explain to someone who was not one of them. They would have been drawn to each other and made music until their fingers fell off, being stuck together in this place.

This man... well, he looked nothing like Rob, but like Rob he had the coloring. Had he come to Needsville, he could have fooled someone without much of the true in them. But he wasn't.

But the love for the music that she heard in his playing... she settled in a nearby chair to listen, crooning along in wordless harmony.

Caden & Coby

Caden & Curnen