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tampered2008-05-03 01:38 pm
pastdedication.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2008-05-03 01:38 pm
Let's start a band, let's be rock stars.
When; Last week
Rating; G
Characters; Lin, Klavier Gavin
Summary; Lin visits to discuss guitar lessons. He brings hom bow. [completed]
Log; LIN
Lin still isn't used to the city at night, so he takes his time walking before approaching building 22. When he does, it's with a small white paper bag in hand, clutched tightly. Some traditional thoughts still lurk in his mind and he simply can't visit someone's house empty handed. He's shocked at how few seem to know his staple food. Fortunately there's still a bakery that serves his craving.
He knocks on the door to Klavier's apartment three times, even, steady beats.
KLAVIER
Klavier doesn't yet have the luxury of soundproofing here, and so his guitar is quite audible, even at a reasonable level. The tune doesn't stop abruptly when Lin knocks - rather, he takes a moment to conclude it with a bit of careful improvisation before setting the instrument aside. There's a quick once over in the mirror (his appearance still matters, fame or not), and then the prosecutor finally pulls open the door, greeting his company with the usual charming smile.
"Hello." His accent is fairly apparent in person - it's obviously not all just for show.
LIN
The time it takes Klavier to reach the door doesn't miss Lin's observation. The German man is clearly very exacting about his appearances, given to certain flourishes. Then, given the handsome man standing in front of him, perhaps his attention to detail was not so ridiculous. "Good evening," Lin says. His accent is far less placeable -- Chinatown on Tharsis being a far less recognizable timbre.
Though Lin is tall and leanly muscular, he's not the imposing sort. Even though his entire wardrobe consists of suits and a trenchcoat. There's something quiet and almost shy or reluctant about him, more puppy than attack dog. He's definitely not sure what to say to Klavier despite their in-depth musical conversation. "I brought hom bow," is what he settles on.
KLAVIER
For a moment, Klavier's eyes (for once not hidden by his ridiculous sunglasses) reflect some manner of surprise. The man standing before him looks, in a very strange way, much like Herr Wright - slimmer, maybe, but the resemblance is definitely evident.
"And I still don't know what it is," his composure's regained in that quick beat, and he steps aside, gesturing inward. "Come inside."
LIN
Lin knows he's being stared at, though he doesn't read danger from Klavier and is certain if it came to that he would win in a fight. He pushes the thought out of his mind. "It's a type of Chinese bun," he explains. "Filled with a savory filling. They can be steamed, baked or fried. I brought you baked." He steps inside, quickly taking the features of Klavier's apartment: exits, problem points, if there was anyone else there. Of course he has no reason to suspect treachery from a complete stranger, but Lin will never be convinced that this new location is benign, and thus his habits will likely always keep his gaze sweeping a room when he enters it. It's not obvious, he just seems quiet, observant. "I brought some with beef curry filling, and pork barbecue." His favorites. Pork, he found, is the more accessible of the two. He'll be plenty happy if he gets the ones filled with green curried goodness all to himself.
KLAVIER
It's obvious to anyone with base perception that Klavier's apartment here mimics his own home. It's draped in deep purples, gaudy in a way that's only just acceptable - more dark than light in the entirety of the space. Even the carpeting is a deep - almost black - sort of indigo - something even Klavier thinks is a little excessive. Fortunately, it's been growing on him since his arrival. So has the modern furniture, which isn't customized entirely to his liking, but it's quirky enough for him to appreciate.
"That would explain. Surprisingly, I never tried much Chinese food... not legitimate Chinese food, anyway. I lived in LA, after all." He shuts the door in Lin's wake, not bothering to lock it.
LIN
"LA... Well, I've never been to China." Lin doesn't sit down. Perhaps it doesn't occur to him to. "No one lives on the surface of Earth anymore, so I suppose legitimate Chinese food, from China, hasn't existed for about 50 years." He gravitates towards the window. The lights of the city, this foreign atmosphere, still fascinate him. Something about it is so very different than any other place he's visited. There is a sort of breathing life, an eerie feeling of being trapped though not domed like the skies of the cities on Mars. "Even if I went there, it would not be China..." The green island in his favorite song was probably deep beneath rubble now.
KLAVIER
"It's a little hard to imagine." He knows it's an understatement, but the way he says it suggests a sort of humbleness - he can't begin to consider what it would be like, despite his fascination with the grandiose. "Everything where... - or when, I guess I should say - is still firmly in tact on Earth."
Klavier watches him move, an idle curiosity about him more than anything - he hasn't discussed many others' origins in depth since his arrival here. He crosses over to the sofa himself and drops onto it, sinking into the plushy cushion. "It's hard to fathom most of this place, ja?"
LIN
"Someday, it won't be. Or maybe it will be. If we think of alternative timelines and such." Lin goes to sit across from Klavier then, digging out napkins from the bag to carefully hand Klavier a bun. "It is difficult to fathom. So many different kinds of people. So many of them friendly. It is surprising. And these curses..."
KLAVIER
"It's difficult to tell who's friendly and who's not. Many of the citizens seem to mean well enough," he nods his agreement, though his eyes steel a little at the mention of the curses. Despite the tiny fault, he doesn't miss a beat, carefully reaching across to take the bun from him. It smells good - most things are better than the instant food he's been stuck with, as it stands.
"The curses are ridiculous."
LIN
"Tell me about it. I ended up spouting off Shakespearian nonsense the other day. Embarrassing." Lin picks up one of the curry buns and takes a bite. Heavenly as always. Then again, it's a simple equation that's difficult for anyone to fuck up. They're comfort food for him more than anything else, a royal treat to a ragamuffin. After they've been eating awhile, he raises the question, "What were you playing before I came here?"
KLAVIER
"They get worse than that.." but Klavier wasn't interested in divulging his mild experiences with the curses, and so he didn't - just contented to eat. He was surprisingly hungry, now that he was presented with real food - food that was surprisingly good, despite its rather plain appearance.
"That? I was just playing around. It's nothing special; an old Gavinners song." He paused. "The Gavinners being my band."
LIN
"I've gotten that impression." They're speaking without speaking. Klavier's had worse experiences, Lin has at least seen the result of worse. And none of them can die or escape. Lovely. "The Gavinners? Named after you? You really must have been a star." Lin's tone is more admiration than anything else, though perhaps, just perhaps, a little dry sarcasm creeps into the edges. He's not without a sense of humor, just completely lacking a sense of fun. "I liked it. I've only played electric a few times."
KLAVIER
"What can I say," his own words aren't without a sense of pride, though they're playful as well - dutifully matching that sarcasm, however slight. "I like to steal the spotlight."
Klavier leans back now, comfortable within his own space, one arm stretching over that of the sofa as he all but sprawls in place. "A few times is better than never. Which do you prefer to play?" It takes some effort not to slip into professionalism regarding music, but he's managed well enough thus far.
LIN
“Acoustic, I think. I’m not a very loud person.” Indeed, Lin is quiet, almost the type to fade into the background despite his size. “Though I would like to experience electric more, I think, before I really made a decision. They both have their merits.” When he speaks of playing, a very shy, almost childish expression overtakes him. It’s fragile and he clearly isn’t aware of it at all.
KLAVIER
It draws an amused grin from Klavier, though he manages to refrain from commenting on the change in expression. "I don't really have a preference. It depends on the music, no?" He gestures to his own electric, propped on its stand. "One way or another, I haven't gotten too great an amp yet - it's not too loud however you look at it."
LIN
“Somehow, I get the impression you’re a fan of loud things.” Lin’s finishing off his bun by now. He never, ever smiles, but his face has a gentle, mocking sort of humor. He’s appreciative of Klavier, of the coloration of this room. He likes people who are comfortable with themselves. “Do you have an acoustic too? You said you had another for lessons…”
KLAVIER
"Most of the time." He doesn't have any problem admitting that - it comes with being a rock star. "Ja, I have an acoustic," he rises, starting toward the his bedroom to retrieve said instrument. "It came with the apartment - not the greatest, but it works." The statement ends abruptly as he takes a bite of his bun, leaving it held in his teeth so that he has both hands free.
He's still like that when he returns, stopping to prop the guitar on the floor near Lin. "..she doesn't have a name, but here she is." He nods as he takes the remainder of the bun back into his hand.
LIN
“The one I taught myself on was much worse, from a pawn shop.” Lin wipes his fingers carefully with the napkin, and picks up the guitar. He fiddles with it a bit first, tuning it, before strumming. His fingers are a little clumsy, but he wants to do this without a pick, build up the calluses again. The first song that comes to mind is one of the first he ever taught himself: You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
Lin’s expression is rather distant.
KLAVIER
Klavier expects him to be rusty, but he can't help being curious. He steps backward to settle on the couch again, gaze shifting from Lin's face to his fingers as he plays. Even now he's getting an idea of his technique - he's not picky about that sort of thing - all that matters is how a person uses it.
He recognizes the tune, and soon he's humming along, a little smirk on his face.
LIN
Lin’s humming, almost singing the words under his breath without knowing it. Amazing how this thing he’s rejected in himself comes out so easily. When he finishes, he flexes his fingers, examining them. He’s got a high pain tolerance so it doesn’t bother him much, really.
Around then he realizes Klavier is watching him intently. “Um… like I said, it’s been years.” Lin’s face is red.
KLAVIER
He laughs, but it's warm.
"It's like riding a bike - you never forget. You aren't half bad," not that it isn't a simple enough piece, but if he can use the buildings blocks there's nothing to say he can't work wonders with some refinement.
"Does it feel good to play again?"
LIN
Lin doesn’t trust himself to talk, so he just nods. He’s actually a little bit overwhelmed at the emotion. His throat is tight. He entertains brief thoughts of running away, making some excuse and never speaking to Klavier again.
Even before, he mostly played in private. Rare was the person who watched him play, because Lin isn’t sure he likes this, being vulnerable. It’s not so much when he plays, he had forgotten Klavier was even the room when he was playing - but this afterwards, not knowing what to say or how to explain himself.
KLAVIER
"Do you know any other songs?" It's a stupid question and he knows it, but asks without missing a beat, able to detect that the other man's flustered. If he knew him he'd be poking fun, but as he doesn't it's politeness - he rising from his seat to retrieve his own, electric guitar. That way he won't be watching him outright.
LIN
Lin nods, not even really looking at Klavier. He’s glad to see Klavier isn’t staring, though, and continues with slightly more confidence to strum out the familiar tune of “Yesterday” by the Beatles. Though Lin’s fingers aren’t quite up to speed, they remember easily, and as the nervousness seeps away he plays in a relaxed, natural manner. He can’t really play such a tune without singing it, so he does, quietly, to himself. It’s almost as if he’s afraid to disturb Klavier. He’s not a loud person, after all.
KLAVIER
He lifts the instrument, settling the strap over his own shoulders, and goes about making a few adjustments. He doesn't really need to, and the other should know that as well as he does - he was just playing it a few moments ago, after all. Nonetheless, Lin doesn't seem like much of a performer - not yet - so Klavier is willing to give him that hint of privacy.
There's a pick in his hand now - he fished it out of a pocket at some point - and it's funny, because it actually sports the Gavinner's logo. He must have had it on him when he was first pulled into the City; it's something sentimental to hold onto, and he hasn't forsaken it yet. A brief volume adjustment, and then he's plucking along - quietly - with Lin. This time he leaves the singing to the other man.
"I've met a few instrumentalists here, other than myself."
LIN
Lin looks up, suddenly remembering himself. He nods slowly. “On the network, I’ve spoken to someone who plays jazz nights at the Lux, and a little girl who plays the piano.”
He hasn’t met much of anyone in person. Aside from those he knew already. Klavier, Lin realizes, is the first.
KLAVIER
"It's funny," he begins, segueing off into his own idle melody as he speaks. He stays standing - he's used to playing that way, and it comes easier to him. "There are so many musicians here, and yet no bands to speak of."
LIN
“Bands need leaders,” Lin murmurs, actually looking directly at him now. He’s pretty sure he knows where this is going, is just egging Klavier on. He’s very good at playing a supporting role, after all. Surely this is one reason Klavier seems so interested in him. Likely the only reason, unless he’s desperately bored or in need of payment for the guitar lessons.
KLAVIER
"But the lineup is more important," there's a decisive note, and he stops playing, looking up to his guest. He's still testing the waters - but seems pleased with how well it's going as of now. Lin needs a little work, sure - but so will anyone else, to meet his standards.
LIN
Lin nods his agreement. “You’re right. But the fact that no one’s pulled a band together speaks of a lack of leadership. I’m sure there are many accomplished musicians here, but no one’s uniting them.” He tilts his head. “Is that your intention?”
No use beating around the bush.
KLAVIER
"Good, you put things together fast," it was affirmation, more or less. Klavier began to strum again, this time continuing while he spoke. "But a lot of people that are 'accomplished', as you say, aren't interested in rock music. I can play a lot of things, ja, and I enjoy them.. but I am a rocker first and foremost."
There was a flourish of notes before he finished. "Naturally, I need to employ someone that can appreciate that."
LIN
"I can play a little rock. My own tastes are rather eclectic, and I tended to teach myself songs that I like, not from any particular genre." Funny, the usage of the word employ. Could it get that far, with them playing gigs and even getting paid to do so? In a place with no economy, could they create a demand for themselves? "If we start a band, we are not naming it after you," Lin finally says. That's his way of agreement.
KLAVIER
"That's all the better. It helps, to have broad tastes in music, ja? It just wouldn't do me any good to try working with someone that was opposed to rock music.." he paused.
"Ach, I've been there and done that. The pun wouldn't really work here, anyway." Grin.
LIN
"There are people opposed to rock music?" A gently raised brow. "I'm afraid I don't know any German... but... thinking of a name before we have more members is preemptive, anyway."
KLAVIER
"It's just not some peoples' thing, ja? Though there are some people who are really vehemently against it. It's a little funny," he stops playing, idly tapping the ball of his foot against the carpet.
"So it is." And now Klavier finally takes a seat, guitar perched carefully on his knee. "I know that there are other guitarists here," he's more open about discussing business, now that he knows the man isn't completely opposed to the idea. "Depending, we could probably get someone to make the transition to bass. As far as drums are concerned, though.. I haven't met anyone yet."
LIN
"I suppose. I have been lectured on the structure of symphonic orchestras by total strangers." Lin shifts the instrument on his lap and strums idly. "Drummers... I don't know any. I know some noisy people, but that's about it."
KLAVIER
"I know enough to teach someone a little. But I think.. that when it comes down to it, I will make a post looking, for those and any other talented musicians we may be able to use. Though it will take a while for anything to come of it, I think... I want to write new music, play fresh songs. It's hard enough to coordinate that with a new group, but it's going to be even harder to manage when there's not an industry for us to climb through."
He's thinking aloud, in a sense - but he figures it will be good for the other to see a bit of the way he works. He makes no bones about things like this, treats it just as seriously as he would any other career path.
LIN
Lin knows nothing of the industry, so he keeps his mouth shut. No use in contributing absolutely nothing. "It will be completely unique, if we can pull it off. This place and the wreckage it's caused... have inspired me in many ways." Not all of them good. In fact, very few of them good. He's in pain. Maybe music will help, or at least give him an outlet.
KLAVIER
He nods, playing softly again - he can't really help it with the instrument already in hand. "Obviously I'm not asking for any solid commitment yet.. but if it does work out, it's something you'll be willing to stick with, ja?"
LIN
Lin watches him for a long moment. He's never seen hair like that. Klavier's a good guitarist, more polished than his lackadaisical attitude suggests. The charisma settles easily around him, like his stylish garments, he wears it comfortably. Lin's never been in the presence of a rock star, though sometimes, listening to records, he was sure he understood it. Now he sees he's in the presence of such a person. Thinking he might have some part of something like that leaves him rather speechless. "I'm more than willing," he says after a moment, looking away when he realizes he's been staring.
KLAVIER
It earns him a slightly lopsided grin, but like everything else that seems so relaxed, it too has been carefully refined into something of his persona - charming and all at once still maintaining that sense of who he is, what he's doing. He's the one the people come to see, after all.
"Good." He leans his head back, eyes slitted just so as he continues to play - volume rising as too does that of his voice, if only slight. "You don't really need lessons, you know. If that's how you play after a few years without touching a guitar.. I think with some practice you'll be as good as if you had."
LIN
"I thought about playing a lot," Lin admits. "So that might have helped." His relationship with the guitar was an ongoing dialogue, something of a seduction, a weak temptation he promised himself never to indulge in. Here, with things blurred, his own death casting a sharp perspective, it doesn't matter as much. Maybe having something distract him, even another kind of co-worker, would make the transition easier. "I can practice," he says after a moment. "Once I have a guitar, I can." Having been kicked to the curb by Vicious, though, he hasn't got a job with which to buy one. Lin figures that was a detail he'd figure out later.
KLAVIER
Klavier nods, considering that predicament. "They sell them in the Square, but they get a little expensive - I was lucky enough to get this one as a gift," he patted the neck of the instrument now propped on his knee. "I use it a lot more than anything else... and I can stand to live without my acoustic for a little while. You should take it and use it in the meantime."
Normally, he wouldn't have offered the instrument to him - but he hadn't established any real bond with the thing yet. It was true that he was far more partial to the blue guitar than the one his apartment had tailored for him. Besides, he was eager to hear Lin when he was a bit more practiced - curious as to what he could do, and what he would have to do to get him up to par.
LIN
"Thank you." Lin stares at Klavier for a long moment before dropping his gaze. "That means a lot to me. Truly." He doesn't want to show how hard the gift hits -- even if he's just borrowing the instrument. One other person gave him the gift of music. One other. "I'll practice hard," he promises softly. Not like he has much else to do, just now.
KLAVIER
This pleases him immensely, and it shows in the smile he flashes him then. It's a little more sincere. "Take your time. We can't do much until we fill out the rest of the line up anyway, ja?" But that doesn't stop the excitement from creeping up on him. It feels a little strange, to be discussing anything but the Gavinners - especially when, such a short time ago, he thought he'd be giving up professional music for a lifetime. This ... even if it only lands them playing at some bar, it's enough to bring him out of the sudden turnaround his life's so recently taken. "I'll work on finding others. I'm sure there will be interest, even if only a little."
LIN
Lin can't help be effected by the warmth of Klavier's smile -- he's the type of person who sponges off the emotions of others, and contributing to another's happiness lifts him up. "We'll make it happen." He nods his agreement. Such an odd word, 'we,' and he didn't think he'd use it again so soon. Feels right, though. Feels better.
Rating; G
Characters; Lin, Klavier Gavin
Summary; Lin visits to discuss guitar lessons. He brings hom bow. [completed]
Log; LIN
Lin still isn't used to the city at night, so he takes his time walking before approaching building 22. When he does, it's with a small white paper bag in hand, clutched tightly. Some traditional thoughts still lurk in his mind and he simply can't visit someone's house empty handed. He's shocked at how few seem to know his staple food. Fortunately there's still a bakery that serves his craving.
He knocks on the door to Klavier's apartment three times, even, steady beats.
KLAVIER
Klavier doesn't yet have the luxury of soundproofing here, and so his guitar is quite audible, even at a reasonable level. The tune doesn't stop abruptly when Lin knocks - rather, he takes a moment to conclude it with a bit of careful improvisation before setting the instrument aside. There's a quick once over in the mirror (his appearance still matters, fame or not), and then the prosecutor finally pulls open the door, greeting his company with the usual charming smile.
"Hello." His accent is fairly apparent in person - it's obviously not all just for show.
LIN
The time it takes Klavier to reach the door doesn't miss Lin's observation. The German man is clearly very exacting about his appearances, given to certain flourishes. Then, given the handsome man standing in front of him, perhaps his attention to detail was not so ridiculous. "Good evening," Lin says. His accent is far less placeable -- Chinatown on Tharsis being a far less recognizable timbre.
Though Lin is tall and leanly muscular, he's not the imposing sort. Even though his entire wardrobe consists of suits and a trenchcoat. There's something quiet and almost shy or reluctant about him, more puppy than attack dog. He's definitely not sure what to say to Klavier despite their in-depth musical conversation. "I brought hom bow," is what he settles on.
KLAVIER
For a moment, Klavier's eyes (for once not hidden by his ridiculous sunglasses) reflect some manner of surprise. The man standing before him looks, in a very strange way, much like Herr Wright - slimmer, maybe, but the resemblance is definitely evident.
"And I still don't know what it is," his composure's regained in that quick beat, and he steps aside, gesturing inward. "Come inside."
LIN
Lin knows he's being stared at, though he doesn't read danger from Klavier and is certain if it came to that he would win in a fight. He pushes the thought out of his mind. "It's a type of Chinese bun," he explains. "Filled with a savory filling. They can be steamed, baked or fried. I brought you baked." He steps inside, quickly taking the features of Klavier's apartment: exits, problem points, if there was anyone else there. Of course he has no reason to suspect treachery from a complete stranger, but Lin will never be convinced that this new location is benign, and thus his habits will likely always keep his gaze sweeping a room when he enters it. It's not obvious, he just seems quiet, observant. "I brought some with beef curry filling, and pork barbecue." His favorites. Pork, he found, is the more accessible of the two. He'll be plenty happy if he gets the ones filled with green curried goodness all to himself.
KLAVIER
It's obvious to anyone with base perception that Klavier's apartment here mimics his own home. It's draped in deep purples, gaudy in a way that's only just acceptable - more dark than light in the entirety of the space. Even the carpeting is a deep - almost black - sort of indigo - something even Klavier thinks is a little excessive. Fortunately, it's been growing on him since his arrival. So has the modern furniture, which isn't customized entirely to his liking, but it's quirky enough for him to appreciate.
"That would explain. Surprisingly, I never tried much Chinese food... not legitimate Chinese food, anyway. I lived in LA, after all." He shuts the door in Lin's wake, not bothering to lock it.
LIN
"LA... Well, I've never been to China." Lin doesn't sit down. Perhaps it doesn't occur to him to. "No one lives on the surface of Earth anymore, so I suppose legitimate Chinese food, from China, hasn't existed for about 50 years." He gravitates towards the window. The lights of the city, this foreign atmosphere, still fascinate him. Something about it is so very different than any other place he's visited. There is a sort of breathing life, an eerie feeling of being trapped though not domed like the skies of the cities on Mars. "Even if I went there, it would not be China..." The green island in his favorite song was probably deep beneath rubble now.
KLAVIER
"It's a little hard to imagine." He knows it's an understatement, but the way he says it suggests a sort of humbleness - he can't begin to consider what it would be like, despite his fascination with the grandiose. "Everything where... - or when, I guess I should say - is still firmly in tact on Earth."
Klavier watches him move, an idle curiosity about him more than anything - he hasn't discussed many others' origins in depth since his arrival here. He crosses over to the sofa himself and drops onto it, sinking into the plushy cushion. "It's hard to fathom most of this place, ja?"
LIN
"Someday, it won't be. Or maybe it will be. If we think of alternative timelines and such." Lin goes to sit across from Klavier then, digging out napkins from the bag to carefully hand Klavier a bun. "It is difficult to fathom. So many different kinds of people. So many of them friendly. It is surprising. And these curses..."
KLAVIER
"It's difficult to tell who's friendly and who's not. Many of the citizens seem to mean well enough," he nods his agreement, though his eyes steel a little at the mention of the curses. Despite the tiny fault, he doesn't miss a beat, carefully reaching across to take the bun from him. It smells good - most things are better than the instant food he's been stuck with, as it stands.
"The curses are ridiculous."
LIN
"Tell me about it. I ended up spouting off Shakespearian nonsense the other day. Embarrassing." Lin picks up one of the curry buns and takes a bite. Heavenly as always. Then again, it's a simple equation that's difficult for anyone to fuck up. They're comfort food for him more than anything else, a royal treat to a ragamuffin. After they've been eating awhile, he raises the question, "What were you playing before I came here?"
KLAVIER
"They get worse than that.." but Klavier wasn't interested in divulging his mild experiences with the curses, and so he didn't - just contented to eat. He was surprisingly hungry, now that he was presented with real food - food that was surprisingly good, despite its rather plain appearance.
"That? I was just playing around. It's nothing special; an old Gavinners song." He paused. "The Gavinners being my band."
LIN
"I've gotten that impression." They're speaking without speaking. Klavier's had worse experiences, Lin has at least seen the result of worse. And none of them can die or escape. Lovely. "The Gavinners? Named after you? You really must have been a star." Lin's tone is more admiration than anything else, though perhaps, just perhaps, a little dry sarcasm creeps into the edges. He's not without a sense of humor, just completely lacking a sense of fun. "I liked it. I've only played electric a few times."
KLAVIER
"What can I say," his own words aren't without a sense of pride, though they're playful as well - dutifully matching that sarcasm, however slight. "I like to steal the spotlight."
Klavier leans back now, comfortable within his own space, one arm stretching over that of the sofa as he all but sprawls in place. "A few times is better than never. Which do you prefer to play?" It takes some effort not to slip into professionalism regarding music, but he's managed well enough thus far.
LIN
“Acoustic, I think. I’m not a very loud person.” Indeed, Lin is quiet, almost the type to fade into the background despite his size. “Though I would like to experience electric more, I think, before I really made a decision. They both have their merits.” When he speaks of playing, a very shy, almost childish expression overtakes him. It’s fragile and he clearly isn’t aware of it at all.
KLAVIER
It draws an amused grin from Klavier, though he manages to refrain from commenting on the change in expression. "I don't really have a preference. It depends on the music, no?" He gestures to his own electric, propped on its stand. "One way or another, I haven't gotten too great an amp yet - it's not too loud however you look at it."
LIN
“Somehow, I get the impression you’re a fan of loud things.” Lin’s finishing off his bun by now. He never, ever smiles, but his face has a gentle, mocking sort of humor. He’s appreciative of Klavier, of the coloration of this room. He likes people who are comfortable with themselves. “Do you have an acoustic too? You said you had another for lessons…”
KLAVIER
"Most of the time." He doesn't have any problem admitting that - it comes with being a rock star. "Ja, I have an acoustic," he rises, starting toward the his bedroom to retrieve said instrument. "It came with the apartment - not the greatest, but it works." The statement ends abruptly as he takes a bite of his bun, leaving it held in his teeth so that he has both hands free.
He's still like that when he returns, stopping to prop the guitar on the floor near Lin. "..she doesn't have a name, but here she is." He nods as he takes the remainder of the bun back into his hand.
LIN
“The one I taught myself on was much worse, from a pawn shop.” Lin wipes his fingers carefully with the napkin, and picks up the guitar. He fiddles with it a bit first, tuning it, before strumming. His fingers are a little clumsy, but he wants to do this without a pick, build up the calluses again. The first song that comes to mind is one of the first he ever taught himself: You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
Lin’s expression is rather distant.
KLAVIER
Klavier expects him to be rusty, but he can't help being curious. He steps backward to settle on the couch again, gaze shifting from Lin's face to his fingers as he plays. Even now he's getting an idea of his technique - he's not picky about that sort of thing - all that matters is how a person uses it.
He recognizes the tune, and soon he's humming along, a little smirk on his face.
LIN
Lin’s humming, almost singing the words under his breath without knowing it. Amazing how this thing he’s rejected in himself comes out so easily. When he finishes, he flexes his fingers, examining them. He’s got a high pain tolerance so it doesn’t bother him much, really.
Around then he realizes Klavier is watching him intently. “Um… like I said, it’s been years.” Lin’s face is red.
KLAVIER
He laughs, but it's warm.
"It's like riding a bike - you never forget. You aren't half bad," not that it isn't a simple enough piece, but if he can use the buildings blocks there's nothing to say he can't work wonders with some refinement.
"Does it feel good to play again?"
LIN
Lin doesn’t trust himself to talk, so he just nods. He’s actually a little bit overwhelmed at the emotion. His throat is tight. He entertains brief thoughts of running away, making some excuse and never speaking to Klavier again.
Even before, he mostly played in private. Rare was the person who watched him play, because Lin isn’t sure he likes this, being vulnerable. It’s not so much when he plays, he had forgotten Klavier was even the room when he was playing - but this afterwards, not knowing what to say or how to explain himself.
KLAVIER
"Do you know any other songs?" It's a stupid question and he knows it, but asks without missing a beat, able to detect that the other man's flustered. If he knew him he'd be poking fun, but as he doesn't it's politeness - he rising from his seat to retrieve his own, electric guitar. That way he won't be watching him outright.
LIN
Lin nods, not even really looking at Klavier. He’s glad to see Klavier isn’t staring, though, and continues with slightly more confidence to strum out the familiar tune of “Yesterday” by the Beatles. Though Lin’s fingers aren’t quite up to speed, they remember easily, and as the nervousness seeps away he plays in a relaxed, natural manner. He can’t really play such a tune without singing it, so he does, quietly, to himself. It’s almost as if he’s afraid to disturb Klavier. He’s not a loud person, after all.
KLAVIER
He lifts the instrument, settling the strap over his own shoulders, and goes about making a few adjustments. He doesn't really need to, and the other should know that as well as he does - he was just playing it a few moments ago, after all. Nonetheless, Lin doesn't seem like much of a performer - not yet - so Klavier is willing to give him that hint of privacy.
There's a pick in his hand now - he fished it out of a pocket at some point - and it's funny, because it actually sports the Gavinner's logo. He must have had it on him when he was first pulled into the City; it's something sentimental to hold onto, and he hasn't forsaken it yet. A brief volume adjustment, and then he's plucking along - quietly - with Lin. This time he leaves the singing to the other man.
"I've met a few instrumentalists here, other than myself."
LIN
Lin looks up, suddenly remembering himself. He nods slowly. “On the network, I’ve spoken to someone who plays jazz nights at the Lux, and a little girl who plays the piano.”
He hasn’t met much of anyone in person. Aside from those he knew already. Klavier, Lin realizes, is the first.
KLAVIER
"It's funny," he begins, segueing off into his own idle melody as he speaks. He stays standing - he's used to playing that way, and it comes easier to him. "There are so many musicians here, and yet no bands to speak of."
LIN
“Bands need leaders,” Lin murmurs, actually looking directly at him now. He’s pretty sure he knows where this is going, is just egging Klavier on. He’s very good at playing a supporting role, after all. Surely this is one reason Klavier seems so interested in him. Likely the only reason, unless he’s desperately bored or in need of payment for the guitar lessons.
KLAVIER
"But the lineup is more important," there's a decisive note, and he stops playing, looking up to his guest. He's still testing the waters - but seems pleased with how well it's going as of now. Lin needs a little work, sure - but so will anyone else, to meet his standards.
LIN
Lin nods his agreement. “You’re right. But the fact that no one’s pulled a band together speaks of a lack of leadership. I’m sure there are many accomplished musicians here, but no one’s uniting them.” He tilts his head. “Is that your intention?”
No use beating around the bush.
KLAVIER
"Good, you put things together fast," it was affirmation, more or less. Klavier began to strum again, this time continuing while he spoke. "But a lot of people that are 'accomplished', as you say, aren't interested in rock music. I can play a lot of things, ja, and I enjoy them.. but I am a rocker first and foremost."
There was a flourish of notes before he finished. "Naturally, I need to employ someone that can appreciate that."
LIN
"I can play a little rock. My own tastes are rather eclectic, and I tended to teach myself songs that I like, not from any particular genre." Funny, the usage of the word employ. Could it get that far, with them playing gigs and even getting paid to do so? In a place with no economy, could they create a demand for themselves? "If we start a band, we are not naming it after you," Lin finally says. That's his way of agreement.
KLAVIER
"That's all the better. It helps, to have broad tastes in music, ja? It just wouldn't do me any good to try working with someone that was opposed to rock music.." he paused.
"Ach, I've been there and done that. The pun wouldn't really work here, anyway." Grin.
LIN
"There are people opposed to rock music?" A gently raised brow. "I'm afraid I don't know any German... but... thinking of a name before we have more members is preemptive, anyway."
KLAVIER
"It's just not some peoples' thing, ja? Though there are some people who are really vehemently against it. It's a little funny," he stops playing, idly tapping the ball of his foot against the carpet.
"So it is." And now Klavier finally takes a seat, guitar perched carefully on his knee. "I know that there are other guitarists here," he's more open about discussing business, now that he knows the man isn't completely opposed to the idea. "Depending, we could probably get someone to make the transition to bass. As far as drums are concerned, though.. I haven't met anyone yet."
LIN
"I suppose. I have been lectured on the structure of symphonic orchestras by total strangers." Lin shifts the instrument on his lap and strums idly. "Drummers... I don't know any. I know some noisy people, but that's about it."
KLAVIER
"I know enough to teach someone a little. But I think.. that when it comes down to it, I will make a post looking, for those and any other talented musicians we may be able to use. Though it will take a while for anything to come of it, I think... I want to write new music, play fresh songs. It's hard enough to coordinate that with a new group, but it's going to be even harder to manage when there's not an industry for us to climb through."
He's thinking aloud, in a sense - but he figures it will be good for the other to see a bit of the way he works. He makes no bones about things like this, treats it just as seriously as he would any other career path.
LIN
Lin knows nothing of the industry, so he keeps his mouth shut. No use in contributing absolutely nothing. "It will be completely unique, if we can pull it off. This place and the wreckage it's caused... have inspired me in many ways." Not all of them good. In fact, very few of them good. He's in pain. Maybe music will help, or at least give him an outlet.
KLAVIER
He nods, playing softly again - he can't really help it with the instrument already in hand. "Obviously I'm not asking for any solid commitment yet.. but if it does work out, it's something you'll be willing to stick with, ja?"
LIN
Lin watches him for a long moment. He's never seen hair like that. Klavier's a good guitarist, more polished than his lackadaisical attitude suggests. The charisma settles easily around him, like his stylish garments, he wears it comfortably. Lin's never been in the presence of a rock star, though sometimes, listening to records, he was sure he understood it. Now he sees he's in the presence of such a person. Thinking he might have some part of something like that leaves him rather speechless. "I'm more than willing," he says after a moment, looking away when he realizes he's been staring.
KLAVIER
It earns him a slightly lopsided grin, but like everything else that seems so relaxed, it too has been carefully refined into something of his persona - charming and all at once still maintaining that sense of who he is, what he's doing. He's the one the people come to see, after all.
"Good." He leans his head back, eyes slitted just so as he continues to play - volume rising as too does that of his voice, if only slight. "You don't really need lessons, you know. If that's how you play after a few years without touching a guitar.. I think with some practice you'll be as good as if you had."
LIN
"I thought about playing a lot," Lin admits. "So that might have helped." His relationship with the guitar was an ongoing dialogue, something of a seduction, a weak temptation he promised himself never to indulge in. Here, with things blurred, his own death casting a sharp perspective, it doesn't matter as much. Maybe having something distract him, even another kind of co-worker, would make the transition easier. "I can practice," he says after a moment. "Once I have a guitar, I can." Having been kicked to the curb by Vicious, though, he hasn't got a job with which to buy one. Lin figures that was a detail he'd figure out later.
KLAVIER
Klavier nods, considering that predicament. "They sell them in the Square, but they get a little expensive - I was lucky enough to get this one as a gift," he patted the neck of the instrument now propped on his knee. "I use it a lot more than anything else... and I can stand to live without my acoustic for a little while. You should take it and use it in the meantime."
Normally, he wouldn't have offered the instrument to him - but he hadn't established any real bond with the thing yet. It was true that he was far more partial to the blue guitar than the one his apartment had tailored for him. Besides, he was eager to hear Lin when he was a bit more practiced - curious as to what he could do, and what he would have to do to get him up to par.
LIN
"Thank you." Lin stares at Klavier for a long moment before dropping his gaze. "That means a lot to me. Truly." He doesn't want to show how hard the gift hits -- even if he's just borrowing the instrument. One other person gave him the gift of music. One other. "I'll practice hard," he promises softly. Not like he has much else to do, just now.
KLAVIER
This pleases him immensely, and it shows in the smile he flashes him then. It's a little more sincere. "Take your time. We can't do much until we fill out the rest of the line up anyway, ja?" But that doesn't stop the excitement from creeping up on him. It feels a little strange, to be discussing anything but the Gavinners - especially when, such a short time ago, he thought he'd be giving up professional music for a lifetime. This ... even if it only lands them playing at some bar, it's enough to bring him out of the sudden turnaround his life's so recently taken. "I'll work on finding others. I'm sure there will be interest, even if only a little."
LIN
Lin can't help be effected by the warmth of Klavier's smile -- he's the type of person who sponges off the emotions of others, and contributing to another's happiness lifts him up. "We'll make it happen." He nods his agreement. Such an odd word, 'we,' and he didn't think he'd use it again so soon. Feels right, though. Feels better.