03 | Voice | Backdated to the evening of the 10th

[healplz]

Bariyan is dead.

[ Someone is having difficulties sounding his usual calm and measured today! This comes out sounding pretty forced. ]

I tried to — I'm sorry. I could do nothing for him, and... and perhaps the Initiative, as they've done for others, will return him. I couldn't— 

[ a pause. ]

I'm sorry.

Comments

[healplz]

[ It's vaguely embarrassing to be caught being evasive so consistently, so this time he meets her eyes, and gives a small shake of his head. ]

Then... thank you for listening. But this won't last. All wounds heal.

[allsongs]

[her eyes narrow a little.]

This sad is wounds?

[healplz]

[ Another shake of his head, and he lifts a hand to press to his chest. ]

Only wounds of the heart.

[allsongs]

[she considers that a moment, then withdraws her hand, settling it on her lap with the other. the picture is still hazy in detail, but clearer on the whole.

gently:] Thank you. I understand this.

[healplz]

[ Well that's good, because that was just a little poetic for him to want to say more than once. ...Though he does have to admit, that it all feels like a slight bit less heavy now.

He nods in acknowledgment, glancing away again quietly. There's little else to say of it all, really. ]

[allsongs]

[a soft sound escapes – somber and low.]

Do you want...me to go? [she has to ask carefully; plurals and placement and all that still new.]

[healplz]

—No. [ Well, that's sure out fast. He blinks, a little surprised by the kneejerk answer, and turns attention back onto her again. His tone softens when he refines his answer. ] ...No, not if you don't want to go.

[allsongs]

[she smiles a little. what she wants is rather irrelevant for him – should be. but being offered?]

I will stay.

[healplz]

[ He returns the smile, small and hesitant. ]

Thank you.

[allsongs]

[her own warms, pleased by the reception. take and take.

and give a little, in good time. settling into the scene, understanding a little better, she can respond. a song of grief and comfort. child. man. dead. from what she's gleaned, it seems most appropriate. criminals and innocent men alike can resonate with it.

long and low, but warm, like an understanding, sturdy embrace. there's not much by way of acoustics in the room, but she can make do.]

[healplz]

[ He leans back in his chair to listen, head tipping back against the wall behind him and eyes closing. It's... soothing. It seems more encompassing than the music of his world, even the music the bards lace with magic.

He's silent and unmoving as he listens, perfectly content to sit just as he is all day, if that's how long she sings. ]