Piano Solo

[timidlyblooming]

[If you're in Turnbloom Market, you might hear music drifting in from the music store, where Lillie has politely requested to play the piano. It's not the first time she's been here to look and play, but fortunately, she's always careful and considerate and there's no rule against it, so she's permitted to play.

Expertly, she begins to play a soft and scintillating, yet solemn tune.]

Comments

[aaand Lillie’s done!]

[timidlyblooming]

“That’s true… without my mother and father here, what I can buy is limited… reading to children is not like running a research facility or a wildlife reserve,” Lillie laughed lightly, starting to relax.

“Oh, no, I only play, I’ve never composed any music… but it means a lot to me, this piece. It’s called Mother and Daughter. It’s always… made me feel less lonely. I’ve had my fill for today, I think.”

[this is too easy for Bashou buuut it's so angsty...bringing down the mood in the music shop...]

[bashou]

"Oh, that's what your parents did...?" Bashou asked absentmindedly, his hand reaching out to trail silently over the piano's highest keys, as though it had a will of its own. "Sounds interesting..."

It did genuinely sound intriguing - if only because Rocket might have been interested in a place like that. But Rocket was no longer at the forefront of Bashou's mind, and the thought flitted away quickly.

"I've never composed either. Wouldn't know where to start. I doubt I can even remember anything."

Even though he'd told himself he wouldn't, Bashou sat down at the piano. He reached into his pocket and took out some hand sanitising gel, which he tried to be discreet about applying; it was nothing personal, just a habit of his. His hands seemed to roam the keys, as if waiting for his muscle memory to kick in, then a sad prelude began to flow.

[couldn't we have just done Chopsticks...]

[timidlyblooming]

A hush fell over the shop as the crowd, already gathered, listened to Bashou play.

A few more came to listen and Lillie did not speak again, watching him play, silently and intently, as if studying his technique (he certainly hasn't forgotten, or it's all muscle memory now!), but she's soon more focused on the music itself and, without noticing, tears filled her eyes until they clung to her lashes.