exsilium | verse four is audio

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verse four is audio

[a little night music, Exsilium?

this feed comes within the midst of some, with Simmaeri idly grazing her fingers across the face of the tablet. she's taken to song while she waits for some sound – more fresh voices from the machine. but it's rather late (say, 2am? shush i can forward date if i want), so there's few stirring.

those who do have the network open can hear, though. some foreign song with foreign words, somehow conveying something about silver ladies and faraway cages...sleeping kings and a girl on fire (who isn't alicia keys). slow and soft, rather sad.

it tapers now and then to a humming refrain, the last of which ebbing to quiet with the end of the song.]

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_{( He chuckles, at that, in a good natured way. )}

Y'think I sound funny?

I think you sound beautiful. [it's sincere, kind of breathy.] I hear English here like faces are different...I will never be unhappy to hear.

Speak more.

Guess we all do put our own spin on it, don't we. _{( That's said musingly, as though he's considering it that way for the first time. )}

But not everyone can appreciate that, so that must make you somethin' special, too.

[a beat. spin? she considers the turn of phrase (no pun intended), trying to put the words into proper meaning. she's learned much, but not all of it. not yet.]

I am different. [if that's what he means by special.]

Sometimes bein' different is what ties you ta other people. _{( Which is a strange and contrary sentiment, but makes sense to him in the context of his mutant community. )}

Least, all a us here are a little weird, ta start with.