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Jul 22, 2018 20:09:14 GMT
Post by Deleted on Jul 22, 2018 20:09:14 GMT
[attr="class","ohlove"] [attr="class","lacking"] [attr="class","eyes"] ✎ tag: @skycat
※ wearing: N/A Now >.>
✉ notes: Ohboi. both were silent. the air in my lungs, my hands on the keys. What dreams he did have were abstract at best. A lot of sounds, a lot of colors, nothing pointed or focused in particular. Light hit the back of his eyelids and he kept his hand over his face to cover it for a moment until his fingers split to allow an eye to look out and adjust tiredly to... green? His head lifted and looked down at himself and the thin blankets that covered over his shoulders and chest. The previous night's happenings came back in odd, blurry waves like someone else's half-forgotten memories had been shoved into his head.
A man his size couldn't have backed up and away on the ground faster than he did, scurrying after he realized he was on grass, then again when he noticed the blankets seemed to be the only thing- "Oh God," he gasped, face turning as red as a ripe tomato, and his hands moved quickly to ensure two of the paper-thin blankets were strictly covering everything they could.
He sat up further with a bit of a rush, minorly panicked that he was sleeping in the grass in public and goodness gracious without pants on! Alistair held the blanket down tightly around his own lap with a vice grip and he ensured every inappropriate inch of him was hidden before turning his head to see his ripped suit (though the jacket thankfully remained in-tact when he took it off) on one side and a young girl on his other- "Ah!!" he exclaimed suddenly, frantically pulling every piece of the blankets that he could to cover over his entirety like a quilt, over his shoulders, his chest, his lap, his legs. Everything. "Oh my God, oh my God," no clothes to use, public nudity, and a sleeping young lady right beside him. This was a lot of firsts in one day.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 23, 2018 0:53:13 GMT
The sudden commotion caused Senri to stir with sleepy, incoherent murmurs. The nature of that commotion, however, brought her swiftly to a sitting position, blinking with bleary eyes even as she looked about with a sharp expression for its source. It didn't take long, and her face relaxed as she found it: Alistair was still only a few feet away, working himself up into a quite understandable panic. It seemed that he had returned safely to human form overnight while they both slept. "The question, of course, is 'Now what?'" But it wasn't a question, not really. First things first: She needed to get Alistair calm again. Little things like food and clothes could wait until then. Of course, both of those things would help, but one couldn't have everything. So she summoned an unruffled smile and said, "Good morning, Alistair. Welcome back. I'm sure you've got a ton of questions, but I need you to try and stay calm for me, né? I'll answer your questions, and then we'll see about getting you sorted." She held eye contact with Alistair as she spoke with the ease of long practice, offering neither judgment nor any amusement at his expense, however gentle. She was once again the medical professional and exuded the quiet self-assurance that came with it even as she worked to extend assurance to him.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 5, 2018 3:39:40 GMT
[attr="class","ohlove"] [attr="class","lacking"] [attr="class","eyes"] ✎ tag: @skycat
※ wearing: N/A now >.>
✉ notes: Step 2 both were silent. the air in my lungs, my hands on the keys. "Oh God, oh man," he ran a hand through his hair, looking side to side to see if any one was out and about. The sun was only just starting to rise and blind him through the trees. It was also freezing. Maybe it was too early and cold for people to be out just yet this far in the massive park. Hopefully... Alistair's adam's apple dipped heavily at a large, nervous swallow, still looking about occasionally at the mess around them. Everything was vaguely coming back to him. He'd gotten sick. She was some kind of nurse, something, and tried helping. Goodness, now she was awake! Immediately he stumbled half-starts to sentences that never finished; mainly "How did-?", "What is-?", and "I'm so sorry-".
"Good morning, Alistair. Welcome back. I'm sure you've got a ton of questions, but I need you to try and stay calm for me, né? I'll answer your questions, and then we'll see about getting you sorted." A humorless laugh left him in a single huff, hands spreading over his head into his short hair again until eventually he felt the need to clench the blankets again. "Calm, calm, calm," he mumbled with almost aggressively hushed breaths. "N-no, I-I-I-I-I need clothes!..." His voice was in-between urgency and whispering in case anyone was within earshot. Another image pulled into the back of his mind, the sight of his own chest oddly caving in, the sound of the horrific snapping. His face went pale, body stilling, and he couldn't help but just stare at the medic in uncertain fight-or-flight fear.
Something had happened with his 'condition'... something big. He was like them. Now someone else knew it.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 29, 2018 7:32:16 GMT
"Calm first, then clothes," Senri replied, her tone kind but brisk. Her expression firmed into one that brooked no nonsense as she continued, "You survived a total change to the structure of your body and came out with only your suit as a casualty. As a medical professional, I call that a very good day." This 'tough doctor' demeanor lasted for only a moment more before evaporating entirely. In its place, she brought to bear a pleading gaze of compassionate concern that was her very best attempt at a guilt trip (for his own good). "I'm sorry I couldn't provide anything besides the blankets, but it's okay now, Alistair. I promise. Come on, now. I need you to take deep breaths for me. Slow, deep breaths. Close your eyes and think of music: Bach's Cello Suite Number 1 - the Prelude."
Waiting until Alistair complied, Senri summoned the memory of the piece in question to the forefront of her brain. When she was sure she had it set firmly in place, she set about the intricate work of duplicating the memory as physical vibrations. Vision and touch are both coopted as she seeks to match the waveforms exactly. Her world fills with warmth and color, and she tweaks the thermostat and palette beneath the audible intensity until she is satisfied. Only then does she allow the volume to rise to the edge of hearing. She watches intently for a reaction to her sound sculpture, not speaking aloud but silently coaxing in her head.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 1, 2019 10:25:43 GMT
[attr="class","ohlove"] [attr="class","lacking"] [attr="class","eyes"] ✎ tag: @skycat
※ wearing: The basics
✉ notes: Step 3 both were silent. the air in my lungs, my hands on the keys. The time and effort it took mentally and physically to get out of public was more than he could stand to bear. Had someone not been constantly reminding him to calm down in order to keep from making things worse and doing the talking for him as the cab driver assumed he was just some hungover bum when the paramedic flagged it down. Worst ride of his life. Worse than when students had convinced him during a tour in Kansas City to join them on 'a really fun coaster' lovingly dubbed the 'Mamba'.
He just kept the music in his head, kept repeating every perfectly composed measure, phrase, and lift of the Prelude from Bach's Cello Suit No.1. Sometimes after pausing in a moment of panic he swore he could hear it turn on again in the air. Once, he even cast her a quick look almost to ask if she could hear it too. At no point would he be ready to explore that rabbit hole of possibilities... not yet. Alistair supposed he was incredibly lucky that the paramedic knew classical music; it was the only thing keeping him from absolutely losing it. Never in his life had he been more embarrassed than this entire episode, he was sure of it.
Senri left the cab for a few minutes that felt like an eternity. They'd stopped at a CVS for some kind of clothing that he could wear even if they only had pajamas or some local sports wear in stock. He caught the odd glances of the cab driver to the grown man in his backseat with nothing on but a blanket around his waist and a dirty suit jacket over a bare chest. Not a great winter get-up. Good heavens, was she ever going to come back-? Oh, thank God. One trip around the back of the store later - utilizing a public restroom - and he was at least dressed in relatively normal clothing: a plain, grey long sleeved shirt and off-brand, black cotton sweatpants. They were a little short. He didn't care.
Folding his suit coat under his arm, they finally arrived at the hotel building Alistair was staying at. It was early enough in the morning... his students would most certainly still be in bed. The first workshop wasn't until 1pm and left them a long period of much-needed rest after their last performance. Bach ran through his head continuously one play-through after another until finally the click of his room's door latched behind him. The phasing had caught up with him. His face paled and his legs turned to jelly, leaning against the door and slowly slumping down, down, until he sat on the carpet.
"I'm so-," he shook his head, "I'm so tired." It felt like he'd run a marathon (or two) with absolutely nothing in his stomach. At his first attempt to stand up, his legs wobbled like weak sticks and hands stayed glued to the wall to keep himself balanced. When he took a step towards the bathroom - the intent to shower off all of the germs he'd encountered - he stumbled slightly into the doorway awfully close to knocking her over. "Oh. Sorry, sorry," he mumbled an apology to the door frame first, then to her, situating himself to stand upright better against the frame.
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