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The Boards, Saturday

"So, just out with it already, Granddad."

Jack Starsmore raised an eyebrow and lowered his cup of tea, regarding Jonothon curiously.

"Out with what, my boy?"

"You've been giving me that look since Thursday bloody night. You want to ask it. Just get it over with already."

"I haven't a clue what you're-"

"Granddad."

There was a long silence as the two men regarded one another across the width of Jono's desk.

"You... weren't born a grey face, Jonothon."

"You know I wasn't."

"But that's one trait that's always been apparent at birth, throughout the Clan's history."

"I know."

"Then how...?"

"I think we need to have a long talk, Granddad, about Akkaba and how it isn't as defunct as you always told me it was."

Someday, Jono would have a family reunion that didn't have something to do with En Sabah Nur.

And if you believed that, he had a bridge to sell you, too.

[Open and OCD-free, as always! Probable slowplay around midday when I head out in hopes of maybe scoring some curtains.]

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This weekend wasn't really touching Natalie. She had no particularly important people she'd lost through death, and she was yet to run into anyone else's guests, either.

But the presence of the dead was still making her twitchy. It just seemed like a time to be talking to Sam. And she wasn't going to. (Right?) Instead, she was going to work on a song. Which meant she showed up at the Boards, to pluck notes out of the piano, working towards something that would become a full song, but wasn't yet. There wasn't even any singing involved.

Hello, Jonothon. Hello, Jonothon's grandfather.

Jono had long finished talking to his great-granddad about exactly what had happened to him over the last few years and was now in the process of explaining that yes, he could get by in life with the money he was making running a theatre on a small island, especially since it was supplemented with a teacher's pay, and yes, he was sure he was okay living in America, yes he was aware that he was starting to sound more American than was healthy, no, Americans didn't think he sounded anything but British yet, so it was still okay, and really, Granddad, he was going to be fine. No, he wasn't going to show you the tattoo...

... When Natlie's music filtered into the office and he trailed off, smiling faintly. And by the time Natalie was finished playing the piece, Jono and an old man that looked like a young man were standing nearby, Jono smiling proudly, and Jack giving the sort of subdued applause that one would expect from a man who had been born in Victorian Britain. Apparently, Natalie's song was well-received.

"It's not finished yet," Natalie said, turning from the piano. "But thank you anyway. Hi, Jono." She nodded at Jack. "Jono's guest."

Polite but restrained, that was her thing.

"It's coming along well," Jono informed her with a smile. "Natalie, meet my great-granddad, Jack Starsmore. Granddad, Natalie, one of my students and a regular here at the theatre."

A beat.

"He looks young for his age."

"Apparently, magic rocks are good for the complexion," Jack noted, giving his head a nod of greeting. "It's a pleasure to meet such a talented young musician."

"Thank you, Mr. Starsmore," Natalie said. (That was a new one, 'Mr. Starsmore'. She didn't think she'd ever called Jono that.) "My years of piano lessons appreciate that something has stuck."

Well, in fairness, Jono would have felt weird if anyone called him that. He had started his first lecture at the school by telling his students to call him Jono, after all.

"Lessons, practise, and a fair amount of raw talent," Jono mused. "It's rare to see someone who feels music quite the way Natalie here does."

It took one to know one, perhaps, but out of the two of them, she was the one who stood a far better chance of actually going somewhere with that skill of hers.

All the way to billboards with nothing but her name and picture on them.

But that was the future, and this was now. And in the now, Natalie wasn't great at getting compliments. She hid half a smile. "Well, everyone needs to feel something."

Jack was a firm believer in the stiff-upper-lip mantra, himself. He knew a hidden smile when he saw one, and, without quite smiling himself, he returned it.

"All the better if being able to feel it means that you can express it, as well."

"That does seem to happen sometimes." It amazed her about as much as it did other people. She didn't feel like she was built to let much emotion out, but with music, it was easier. A little. "Although I prefer to play just for myself. Which is why I tend to show up here a fair bit."

"It's one of the reasons I'm so fond of the theatre myself," Jono admitted. "All of this room, fantastic acoustics, and, unless I care to let people in, no audience."

Not that he didn't enjoy an audience from time to time, granted. But for the most part, his music was for him.

"That's one of my other reasons," Natalie replied with a nod towards him. If Jono hadn't shared her views, she would've been less inclined to come and go to use the piano as she pleased. "You don't think music is necessarily a performance to and for others."

"It can be used to speak to others, of course... Music is the language of the soul, and all that." Jonothon gave his shoulders a shrug. "But when I play, I play for myself. Sometimes, it's the only way I can hear myself think."

Thinking in musical notes, in rhythm and rhyme. It was freeing in a way that nothing else ever seemed to be.

"Mm." Natalie thought similarly. Sometimes she needed things to focus on. While her archery practice was offering some help there, music was still the only thing that really made the other parts of her brain shut the hell up for a while.

But she wasn't about to say that, especially not with strangers present. "Have you been snjoying your stay, Mr. Starsmore?"

"I've been taking to this temporary second chance well enough. The island is rather charming, if... American." He was still rather gobsmacked that a Starsmore had made a home on this side of the Atlantic. He was going to remain that way for all eternity, apparently. "I've been told that this island begins to grow on people after a while. I can almost see how that could be the case."

"It has its better sides. And it never gets boring."

Not that that was always a good thing. Worked wonders for needing distractions, though.

"It is pretty American, but the people make it work."

Well, as luck might have it, Jono needed a lot of distractions.

"We do," he agreed with a nod. "We hold one another together, if nothing else, and in turn the island gives us the odd chance to make our peace with those long lost, or a chance to meet children we might never get to have. It balances."

Granted, both of those examples were not necessarily good ones. Either option tended to break more hearts than anything, at the end.

"Excuse me, Mr. Starsmore?" Jono would recognize the young lady waiting to speak with him, even though it had been awhile since they'd spoken. "I, uhh, know this is highly irregular, but I was wondering...can I still audition? I have a monologue ready and everything."

Jono knew that voice, if only vaguely, but he turned to greet Zhari with a smile.

"It just so happens that we still have room in the show for one more actor," he replied, nodding faintly. "I haven't finished fleshing out the cast list yet... If you have your heart set on performing, I would certainly be willing to have you audition."

He glanced at Jack, who had settled back and was once again sipping his tea.

"Just a moment, Granddad? This shouldn't take long."

Jack just waved a dismissive hand. They didn't exactly have eternity left between them, but he could be remarkably patient, all the same.

"I--I'm sorry I missed the audition proper," Zhahar said, glancing over at the man Mr. Starsmore was calling 'Granddad' curiously. He didn't seem much older than Mr. Starsmore himself. "But they were on Wednesdays and Sholeh was working--" and then giddy over a certain daaaaate "--and I, uhh, couldn't get away. But if I make it in, I'll be there for every rehearsal. We've already discussed it."

"I understand," Jono said, nodding and giving Zhahar a little smile. "If you've worked out scheduling between you and everyone is fine with the arrangement, then there's nothing for me to worry about. You said you had a monologue prepared, Zhahar?"

He figured it would be safe enough to let his great-granddad hear her real name. After all, the man was dead. Who was he going to tell?

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The Boards, Saturday

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