Post by HACHIROU LANKA on Dec 22, 2010 15:18:19 GMT -5
| [atrb=style, background:url(http://i405.photobucket.com/albums/pp134/annyong5E/bg.gif); border: #dcdcdc 1px solid; -moz-border-radius-topleft: 3em; padding-left: 10px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; -moz-border-radius-bottomright: 3em;][atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=width, 420, true][atrb=cellpadding,10px, true] Come on Home. i've been waiting too long for you to bring it on. There's Sorrow in my Baritone. ★ SOMETIMES HACHIROU LANKA DIDN'T UNDERSTAND HIMSELF. At times, he felt immensely uncomfortable around crowds and other times, the liked to be in them... At least, to an extent. He liked watching people in those times he tolerated crowds. When he pulled his head out of his ass, he found that people where actually kind of interesting. He'd never admit it out loud and the only real emotion he'd show on his face is a scowl, but it's true. It was like that at the moment. Lanka's eyes trailed over people as they walked by, taking in their unique styles and their... smiles. It's one of the things that the boy noticed right away: everyone, or damn near everyone, was smiling. It was like it was a disease, infecting everyone that walked by: a smiley disease, the most potent and lethal of all. The musician smirked at his own thoughts as he slumped on his bench. It was slightly cold under his thick jacket and pants from the snow that had just recently fallen, but it wasn't unbearable. A guitar rested against his belly, almost horizontal with how much he was slumping. His nails idly plucked at the nylon strings, not really picking out a song, but still having a little repetitive beat. While the musician was looking at people, some people glanced back at him. His smirk didn't stay for long when he realized this. He adverted his eyes from the people, grumbling softly under his breath. He didn't like being noticed. Why would he bring a guitar out to the park, you ask? Well, mostly because his hands needed something to do. He would rather take his flute, but that wouldn't be quite as engaging to his urge to move his fingers than a guitar. It just so happened that a lot of people were attracted to the fact that he had a guitar in his hands. He'd already had a few people hover awkwardly near him to see if he was playing anything. They were disappointed. He wasn't here to play. Yet, it always seemed to happen. Lanka's finger automatically started playing out a little tune. It was supposed to be piano, but he made use of what he had. It was a fast tune, playful and light. Just the fact that his fingers moved as fast made more people glance over. Then, he started humming with the song. It was almost unconscious, at least until he did start singing. What could he say? He was bored out of his mind just sitting here and there was nothing else to do and he was definitely too lazy to get up and start walking for the U. "Atop the old piano, she sang soprano. in the dark, apart from lightning, there was not a light in the sky, my lullaby. it's laced with our smiles and my eyes were color blind. and in between her wine sips, she scaled down the ivory. and landing on my wingtips, she made sure the loose ends were tied. sunlight can slide through the blinds at any time. come on home, there's sorrow in my baritone. is that the way you want me to sing? come on home, I'm tired of all these standard solo songs on the bill without the same ring." People had started to pause in their walking, glancing at him as he sang. He wasn't singing particularly loud, but it was certainly a different sound than what was going on around him. Not everyone stopped, most people just walked by without even noticing. It didn't matter to Lanka, to be quite honest. Boredom was a bitch. the lovely xochii from on the edge ! made this. |
