Duster's Relatively Relaxing Week

[mindofathief]

characters: Duster and You
location: The Invincible, the Armory, and the School
date/time: January 10th-18th
content: Duster practicing the language of the spirits, sparring with Link, and taking advantage of the yarn bomb
warnings: second prompt is closed

A. The Invincible, January 10th - 11th

[With Daylight's notes on communicating with the spirits (and the blizzard giving him a great reason to stay indoors), Duster has the obligation to practice with his new light blue ocarina. It's different from the double cello bass - no strings to glide calloused fingers over, no heavy board to feel vibrations through. Just a thin ceramic that needs holes precisely covered with his rough hands. The first attempts at playing music created plenty of screeching. Good thing no one is nearby to hear...or are they?

At least by the second day, he has a decent feel on the language, not that he can play without his notes. There's so many hole combinations.

And boredom leads to experimentation. Namely, he wants to see if he can recreate DCMC songs on the Ocarina, just to make sure he remembers his parts. Unfortunately, after getting two notes in, he pauses, starts from the top, makes the same mistake, starts from the top...

Say anything about Duster, but he's dedicated to practice.]

B. Armory, January 13th [CLOSED TO LINK]

[He's stretched his legs, now it's time to keep to his plans. He's going to send a text message instead of an audio message. It will take a few minutes, but he's learned.]

this is duster meet me at the armory in an hour

[That's doable. No spelling errors. He retreats to the basement, tests out the targets, and warms up in the middle of the wide space before the sparring session.]

C. School, January 18th

That's...nice of the spirits to do this. [Why is the yarn in the trees? Is this another cultural thing like the onions and bread? If it's a peace offering, Duster won't ignore it. On his way to the school for lunch, he takes a few of the pieces with patterns he's interested in - polka dots and zigzags and the like. He could use something warmer for the winter, anyway. Tazmily never got this cold.

About half an hour later, his arms are full of fabric and his stomach is empty. It's lunch time, and he smells something delicious inside the school.

And since you're here, he might as well ask:] Want to see what they have there to eat?

Comments

[mindofathief]

Cooking what?

[There something behind the counter, but it's well-hidden.]

...Do you think it can understand that we're hungry?

[He walks up to the glass and raps it quickly, getting its attention. A quick noise of annoyance from the spirit. He points at the covered pots barely illuminated by his lantern, and the spirit hobbles towards them, ladle in hand.]

[meridio]

[Somnus neglects to answer, because he can't see the pot's contents nor anything else from here; the smell of food is, however, undeniable. When the spirit approaches, he moves over to Duster's side with his lantern held in the spirit's direction. Either way, they're about to find out.]

[mindofathief]

[There's some sort of white mush - oatmeal? - that the spirit scoops out and plops it into two bowls. It smells vaguely of cinnamon.]

...I hope they have other things...

[As if on cue, the spirit, pulls out two small plates and starts putting on roasted potatoes and some kind of green leafy pile.]

[meridio]

[Somnus isn't exactly hungry—to say nothing of what the spirit is doling out. It's kind of fascinating.]

Does it mean to feed us?

[mindofathief]

I guess?

[The spirit finished the plates with a small slice of bread on each, then slides them onto the counter for the taking before turning around to cook more mysterious pots. Duster takes his own.]

Either way, I'm hungry and I can't be choosy.

[meridio]

[Whatever the case, the food's there and ready. Once Duster has taken his, Somnus follows after another glance at the remaining plate.]

There was a feast earlier, was there not?

[He neither read nor heard very good things about it.]

[mindofathief]

Yeah, but the spirits hated anyone that didn't eat. We should be safe.

[A tired smile.]

Besides, they got to look at the past. It wouldn't hurt to go, too, wouldn't it?

[meridio]

[Any host would bristle at the rejection. This much, he can understand.]

Did you eat then?

[mindofathief]

I wasn't there.

[He sets his tray on a nearby table. From the sounds of it, he should be thankful.]

The lesson I get from that is "don't turn down an invitation from the spirits."

[meridio]

[How lucky. Somnus sets his tray down across Duster.]

But there are boundaries. I've heard tales of our differences. What the spirits think harmless could be the opposite for us.

[mindofathief]

At this point, I don't think I can afford to turn down anything. I can fight. If I permanently die, I might see my friends gain. If I don't, then I'm helping the village.

[He scoops up a small lump of oatmeal.]

You don't learn anything if you don't explore, even if it's dangerous.

[meridio]

[Sitting down, his gaze drops to the bowl in front of him. A moment passes in silence.]

Where will you go next?

[mindofathief]

[A shrug, and he eats his oatmeal. He doesn't look like he's in pain, just slightly satisfied after eating some decent food.]

I'm thinking of looking downtown. People know I was in a band, so why not find a place to perform? Just a building that'd make a decent nightclub, where everyone can relax after a long day and listen to the blues...

[He rests his cheek on his hand, recalling fond memories of the three years he was a star.[

[meridio]

[Band of what? A night club? Listen to a color? Somnus stares down at his portion of the oatmeal with a slight crease in his brow.]

You are a performer. A musician?

[mindofathief]

Oh. [He pulls his hand back.] Yeah, I am.

[Just one of the most famous musicians on the islands, it's nothing.]

I asked Rastus for a bass, so maybe we can have something to do when we're tired.

[meridio]

[It occurs to him then that he won't be able to keep up with the conversation if he doesn't ask questions now. He has no choice but to bite.]

What is a bass?

[mindofathief]

It's an instrument. Like a violin.

[He spreads his arms wide.] About this wide [holds a palm up] and about this tall.

[meridio]

[What is a violin.]

Will that save this world?

[He knows the merits of rest and leisure, but he's sincerely curious to know if there's another reason. The spirits communicate with sound, after all. Would a bass work, too?]

[mindofathief]

I-

[No, not directly.]

We need something worth living for. After everything's that happened, people want a place to relax, to meet with friends, and to feel like everything will be fine. That's what music is. It speaks to the soul in a way words can't.

[meridio]

[Is that what people want?]

I've not listened to music in a while. [He absentmindedly stirs the oatmeal.] Is this truly living?

[mindofathief]

Well, we're still acting like we're living, so why not treat it like it until we actually die?

[meridio]

[He stops stirring.]

Dead or alive—it makes no difference to me.

[Then he eats a spoonful of a clumpy oatmeal, chewing slowly. Hm.]