Luke Triton (
hisapprentice) wrote2014-06-11 10:51 pm
[Puzzle 017]
[Things in the village continue to move at molasses speeds, ever since the draft ended. Without school to keep him occupied, and with (shock and dismay) a wholly diminished interest in all things puzzle, what with all the sadness and walking on eggshells going on all over the place, he's been...practicing his violin, actually. No one in the house came after him pounding on the door, so it must not be that bad.
It was better, sometimes, than thinking about all the strangers who appeared (from the draft, he learned later) bloody and beaten up, or his friends, coming back with darkness in their eyes.
His plans for this day are tame, and come in two flavors:
In the morning he's at the stables, tending to the horses with the kind of affectionate banter and bounce in his step that he doesn't have many close friends to share with anymore. It's not so bad. Animals are, um, people too. But anyone else there might catch him whistling or seeming to talk to himself.
After lunch (Luke always has a long generous lunch - today he eats at Seventh Heaven) he heads into the school to the music room, balances the open journal on a spare music stand, and pulls his violin and bow out of their case to prepare and tune them.]
So, er. [It doesn't usually bother him to talk to the village but...this is a little different.] You know...I think maybe it's better if I don't say anything first.
[And, after one last, soft check of his pitch, Luke shuts his eyes and starts to play a song whose sheet music he found in the library months ago. It isn't very long, but he goes through it thrice: the first time quietly, too afraid to mess up to really play, and then twice after that. It's a little slow and a little sad but he doesn't feel sad when it's over.]
That's that, then. [Projected confidence or not, he's blushing pretty red on his end of the journal.] I sort of thought, um, that maybe somebody could use a little music.
[[ooc: shh shh pretend it's a violin in the track not a cello...]]
It was better, sometimes, than thinking about all the strangers who appeared (from the draft, he learned later) bloody and beaten up, or his friends, coming back with darkness in their eyes.
His plans for this day are tame, and come in two flavors:
In the morning he's at the stables, tending to the horses with the kind of affectionate banter and bounce in his step that he doesn't have many close friends to share with anymore. It's not so bad. Animals are, um, people too. But anyone else there might catch him whistling or seeming to talk to himself.
After lunch (Luke always has a long generous lunch - today he eats at Seventh Heaven) he heads into the school to the music room, balances the open journal on a spare music stand, and pulls his violin and bow out of their case to prepare and tune them.]
So, er. [It doesn't usually bother him to talk to the village but...this is a little different.] You know...I think maybe it's better if I don't say anything first.
[And, after one last, soft check of his pitch, Luke shuts his eyes and starts to play a song whose sheet music he found in the library months ago. It isn't very long, but he goes through it thrice: the first time quietly, too afraid to mess up to really play, and then twice after that. It's a little slow and a little sad but he doesn't feel sad when it's over.]
That's that, then. [Projected confidence or not, he's blushing pretty red on his end of the journal.] I sort of thought, um, that maybe somebody could use a little music.
[[ooc: shh shh pretend it's a violin in the track not a cello...]]

[Voice]
Thanks!
[Voice]
Who're you calling a ruffian, punk?]That wasn't supposed to be a compliment!
[He sighs, but even then he can't keep from smiling just a little.]
[Voice]
[He's been smiling since he knew he could win the argument, and he's glad Firo decided to join him.]
[Voice]
[It's not anywhere close to the threat it could be--Firo's heart just isn't in it. And he's more faintly concerned and amused than angry.]
[Voice]
[Voice]
You've got an answer for everything, don'tcha?
[Voice]
Well, every puzzle has a solution!
[Voice]
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H-hey! What're you tryin' to say?
[Firo doesn't fight in the street! He does a lot of fighting in back alleys, too!]
[Voice]
[Voice]
Oh. Yeah, uh, I guess that makes sense.
...Just don't try and force me to do any puzzles, okay?
[His brain isn't ready for that method of problem-solving.]
[Voice]
[Luke doesn't get how he could not want to, but Firo's unusual.]
[Voice]
[No, Firo, you're probably the only person in this conversation who'd actually try to force someone to do things your way.]
When is your life ever gonna depend on doin' a puzzle?
[Voice]
[To himself, Luke begins to count. He doesn't make it out of Misthallery without moving onto the fingers of his other hand; he remembers dangling precariously over the pristine tiled floor of a hotel while Layton solved out how to get him down, and counts another finger; by the time he reaches the Bostonius both hands are extended before him.]
More times than you're ever going to believe. I can think of ten right now, and those are all even before we met Flora!
[Voice]
[He shakes his head and eyes Luke suspiciously.]
How's that even happen? Somebody holds a gun to your head and tells you to do a puzzle?
[Voice]
The first four all belong to a giant mechanical creature who was rampaging around my hometown, and we had to solve the puzzles to shut it down for good.
[Voice]
Couldn't you have just shot at it?
[Yeah, have fun with the ricochet.]
[Voice]
[See, Firo, this is what he meant about not everything being a street brawl.]
[Voice]
[What do you mean not everyone has quick access to those?]
[Voice]
[Voice]
[He doesn't sound at all concerned by that.]
Doin' puzzles at a time like that would just waste time!
[Voice]
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[Since he thinks that's a pretty obvious fact of life
(but, Firo, have you ever actually tried thinking?)he tries to move right on. Maybe this piece of advice will be more palatable to Luke.]...If you're worried about guns, you coulda just used a knife.
[Voice]
Besides, no gentleman would confront someone with a knife like that.
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