Jean Descole (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scientificflair) wrote2013-02-28 08:57 am
scientificflair) wrote2013-02-28 08:57 am
Entry tags:
- !ic,
- *action,
- *text,
- *video,
- all aboard the hot mess express,
- all the subtlety of a brick to the face,
- clearly the only sane man in johto,
- do you want a sweetie or something,
- flawless social skills,
- holy crap he's actually outside,
- jfc tr has a musical science division,
- raging impotently into the abyss,
- really damn awful noises,
- slightly less damn awful noises,
- someone's throwing a tantrum
008. [Video/possible action for Goldenrod City, also one other thing]
[PRIVATE TEXT TO EMMY ALTAVA]
I have something I would like to ask you, and some further things to discuss. Some more pleasant than others. Do you have time?
[VIDEO]
[Well, if you're familiar with the stores around Goldenrod (or even if you're not, and just happened to wander in there one day by chance) then the chances are good that you're aware of a music shop nestled amongst the larger stores and malls. More specifically and to the point, you may be aware of the piano set up within the shop itself - both for the sake of lessons to those willing to pay, and to advertise others like it for purchase. Descole is in here for neither, though had he the space he wouldn't be terribly opposed to the latter; for the last couple of days, he's come in when business is slow and settled himself behind the keys, sometimes playing, sometimes just running his hands over them lightly. Today, however, he is clearly settling for none of that. The camera clicks on after seeming to have been set up directly alongside the keys, showing nothing but his hands and a bit of the long ruffled sleeves covering the backs of them; he begins playing after a bit, and...uh. It's a bit difficult to say what in the world set him off but he's having at fairly hard and holding absolutely nothing back, his hands fast and firm on the keys. It's not anything classical, or even anything terribly classy; it's somewhat more akin to...well. While it isn't anywhere near exact, it's closer to this than anything.
Yeah. Um. There's probably something to be said for the fact that Descole is baring his soul to the world and it sounds sorta like Skrillex, but we won't go there.
His hands linger on the keys for a moment after the sound dies; the camera angle doesn't adjust any, leaving his face well out of the shot, but after a moment Descole speaks, his tone clipped and more abrupt than usual.
He's clearly a bit stressed; he's doing a terrible job of concealing it.]
I'm looking for ways to further improve myself. Anything at all. Physically, intellectually, I don't particularly care. Tell me what you excel at; I want to hear what your talents are.
I don't care that time doesn't pass back home, not while we're here; there is still such a thing as having been here too long. If I can't return to my life's work...
[He pauses for a moment; without warning, he slams his hands down heavily on the keys, the sudden clash ringing out sharply. One can...pretty much hear the rather alarmed sound of the shopkeeper in the background, telling him to watch it.]
I've had enough. Give me something to pursue.
[And with that, end feed.]
I have something I would like to ask you, and some further things to discuss. Some more pleasant than others. Do you have time?
[VIDEO]
[Well, if you're familiar with the stores around Goldenrod (or even if you're not, and just happened to wander in there one day by chance) then the chances are good that you're aware of a music shop nestled amongst the larger stores and malls. More specifically and to the point, you may be aware of the piano set up within the shop itself - both for the sake of lessons to those willing to pay, and to advertise others like it for purchase. Descole is in here for neither, though had he the space he wouldn't be terribly opposed to the latter; for the last couple of days, he's come in when business is slow and settled himself behind the keys, sometimes playing, sometimes just running his hands over them lightly. Today, however, he is clearly settling for none of that. The camera clicks on after seeming to have been set up directly alongside the keys, showing nothing but his hands and a bit of the long ruffled sleeves covering the backs of them; he begins playing after a bit, and...uh. It's a bit difficult to say what in the world set him off but he's having at fairly hard and holding absolutely nothing back, his hands fast and firm on the keys. It's not anything classical, or even anything terribly classy; it's somewhat more akin to...well. While it isn't anywhere near exact, it's closer to this than anything.
Yeah. Um. There's probably something to be said for the fact that Descole is baring his soul to the world and it sounds sorta like Skrillex, but we won't go there.
His hands linger on the keys for a moment after the sound dies; the camera angle doesn't adjust any, leaving his face well out of the shot, but after a moment Descole speaks, his tone clipped and more abrupt than usual.
He's clearly a bit stressed; he's doing a terrible job of concealing it.]
I'm looking for ways to further improve myself. Anything at all. Physically, intellectually, I don't particularly care. Tell me what you excel at; I want to hear what your talents are.
I don't care that time doesn't pass back home, not while we're here; there is still such a thing as having been here too long. If I can't return to my life's work...
[He pauses for a moment; without warning, he slams his hands down heavily on the keys, the sudden clash ringing out sharply. One can...pretty much hear the rather alarmed sound of the shopkeeper in the background, telling him to watch it.]
I've had enough. Give me something to pursue.
[And with that, end feed.]
[private video]
[private video]
[private video/action]
[He appears about half an hour later, as promised, holding the door for Olivia before stepping into the shop himself. The Xatu hums happily at the classy atmosphere and trots off to examine some guitars. Here's hoping the shopkeeper is fond of birds.
Ondorus himself heads straight to where he remembers the piano being, on the hope that Descole is still right where he'd been.]
[action forever, then!]
He doesn't stop at Ondorus' approach, though he does tense slightly, the sound of his hands against the keys tightening a bit to reflect that before he makes himself relax.]
Punctual as well? You really are good to know here.
It's a pleasure to finally meet you.
[...hopefully you're okay with all of Descole's...everything, given that the mask and the cape and the ridiculous hat are not going anywhere anytime soon.]
[action]
...besides, it's a cape.]
The feeling is mutual. [Ondorus produces a hand from beneath his own cape for shaking.] I'd say that I hope you're well today, but you seemed more than a little out of sorts already.
[Light humor by understatement...?]
[action]
...also capes. He can't say he doesn't approve of the cape.
At any rate, the understatement seems to serve its purpose; it gets something of a smirk out of him, at any rate.]
Something like that. It's been a while coming, I suppose.
[action]
I know how that feels. [Ondorus takes a seat on a stool beside the piano.] Have you gotten any promising responses?
[action]
[I mean, he's gotten a few, yes, but nothing quite saying what he's looking for; he's still waiting on Emmy's response, and the others...have been suitable distractions, but...]
It's been somewhat therapeutic to simply have all that out there, however.
[action]
...I'd wager it's a stage that a lot of people reach here sooner or later, even if they're not entirely aware of it.
[action]
[action]
[BUT ANYWAYS]
"Something to pursue" is a little vague. What motivates you?
[action]