Indie & Selective
Ｎｉｅｎｎａ
In the Music, she took little part. But listened intently until the end.
All her love is mingled with ᴩɪᴛy.
For she is the mighty who cries for all the unjust and terrible things that happen in the world, but she is also the one that teaches endurance and wisdom through adversity.
❝In retrospect, yes. Though, I haven’t been awake for it, for anymore than forty years.❞
[ Finished. It was a true gift bestowed upon the woman ; to hear a symphony that resembled such a thing. Astonishing. ]
❝Do you have your own song then?❞
❝My own song?❞
[ Why does it seem s odd a question? Cara believes it makes sense to ask – and yet so few indulge her to this point. She remains silent, contemplative before finding her answer. ]
❝If I have one, it is beyond me. At least I can’t hear it. Every living thing has one I am alive so I should think that I do.❞
[ Her best guess was initially extraterrestrial technology, especially a brain perception. Though she was speaking of something different altogether clearly. ]
❝Does my song stay the same? Or does it change with any interactions?❞
❝Well… it changes, of course.❞
[ Even from race to race, it seemed. For her music sounded as though it was played with different instruments than any she’d heard before —- but for someone to be genuinely curious about the music she heard brought a small smile to her face ]
❝ I mostly hear the parts that have finished. Like it repeats. Your song is very long. I suppose that means you are quite old? ❞
[ Emerald eyes which matched soft scales, moved upwards to her’s, blinking simply. Different ; yet something n e w. ]
❝Are you a mutant of some kind? Or just not of this world?❞
[ Her sanity not being questioned is a happy change of pace. The word choice —- not so much. ] ❝ I’m human. I just hear the music. Well… maybe there is a mutation. Your guess is as good as mine. ❞
❝Just because I am green does not mean I am an alien.❞
❝ I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I was more interested in the way you sound than the way you look — I don’t mean your voice, I just… Oh, nevermind me. I do like the way you sound. ❞
[ and she had — no idea how to reply. and so she fell silent. clearing her throat — ]
”——-Right….. is that bad?”
« I don’t… think so? There’s more instruments and the tune rises and falls but – it’s more the instruments sound different. Like a kind I haven’t heard before. »
[she offers an apologetic smile. Aware she makes little sense but unsure of how to be clear. ]
[ Ariadne looked tired. It had been a long day, and it showed on her face.
She was sitting in the cafe, by herself, half asleep, half people watching. If she went home, she’d just sleep, and it was too early for that just yet. So croissants and humanity it would be, for the meantime. ]
[ She doesn’t ask, merely seats herself at the table. Her gaze hazy with distractions. Tune and melodies the other cannot hear but she is used to such things. It is difficult to focus on the particular tune before her.
It is calm – almost lazy. The notes played slowly and far apart. There is little urgency in her song at the moment. Cara herself simply sought a moment or two of interaction. This stranger, she assumed, knew nothing of her bad luck streak. Her words are clumsy, but her smile is lopsided and genuine. ]
« If you’re that tired perhaps you really should go to sleep. Not here, of course.. »
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