Enthuzimuzzic (Groovy Tunes), Sunday

[furnaceface]

As was his usual Sunday ritual these days, Jonothon made his way into the music shop bright and early. He spent some time dusting, straightened the sheet music, paused to slowly and very deliberately tune the string instruments, a small black kitten playing underfoot the entire while.

Every so often, he would pause, lower his head, and put a hand to his chest. Something in there just wasn't ticking right, these days. Not a surprise, all things considered. His great granddad, god rest his soul, had warned him of the family luck long before he'd ever experienced his own taste of the family's power, but there hadn't been anything to be done about his own. Now all he could do was take things a day at a time, take care of himself as best he could, and, god willing, keep his more unique abilities to himself.

Easy enough to do when the family gift had robbed him of his words, as well.

The shop straightened out, Jonothon settled in with a violin. He'd once had a voice that would've made angels weep. These days, he settled for letting the strings sing for him, the occasional mew of the kitten making him pause and smile.

[OOC: Come in and peruse our fine selection of fine instruments and whimsical music boxes! Or visit Jonothon, if you wish. He's maybe a touch on the able-to-read-minds side, but feel free to specify if your character has mental walls up or some other such defense if you don't want him twigging on to thoughts in the narrative.]

Comments

[hernando_fuentes]

Hernando was making his way around the island, poking his head into all of the shops to see what the weekend's changes had wrought for them. More than just his head poked inside once he heard the music. He came in to listen. Waiting until a natural break in the music, he complimented, "That was very fine!"

[furnaceface]

Jonothon glanced up with a smile at the praise, never quite able to keep himself from feeling particularly humble about his talents. He gave a deep bow of his head in thanks, and then settled the violin under his jaw again and tilted his head faintly, raising his eyebrows in question.

Did you by any chance have any requests, fine sir?

[hernando_fuentes]

Hernando watched the gestures and nodded his head in turn. He couldn't quite read the motions but they seemed to be an inquiry. "Keep playing?" he implored.

[furnaceface]

That earned a bit of a soundless laugh and a deep bow and smile before Jonothon straightened up and once again started to play.

... If that song happened to be something that was composed in 1995 and had nothing at all to do with actual Victorian era music, look, Steampunk was about aesthetic, not accuracy, here.

[hernando_fuentes]

Hernando positively beamed and nodded along. When the song was finished, he applauded.

[furnaceface]

Jonothon bloody near lived for that reaction, smiling and giving yet another nod of thanks for the appreciation. He lowered the instrument once again, considering the customer thoughtfully, and then just held both up and toward him, tilting his head in question as if asking if perhaps he would like to try?

The little black kitten had trotted back out at the sound of a new person, and was proceeding to wind her way around Hernando's ankles, bound and determined to be as big a distraction as possible.

[hernando_fuentes]

Hernando shook his head regretfully, "No, my friend. I do not play. Some piano, a little, though not for many years."

The kitten was a successful distraction. He crouched down and held fingers out for it to investigate, "Hello to you too, tiny one."

[furnaceface]

The little kitten had a little collar, and a little nametag on a bronze heart that read, 'Joni.' And she was very much interested in sniffing at the offered fingers before leaning in to bonk her head against them, looking for affection.

Jono smiled and watched for a moment, and then made his way back to the counter for a moment, to carefully set the violin back in its case.

When he returned, he was holding a small bag with dried bits of meat, which he offered to Hernando. If he wanted to make fast friends forever with the little girl, treats were most certainly the best way to go about it.

[hernando_fuentes]

Hernando reached into the bag with quiet thanks and took a few small pieces of dried meat.

"Hello, Joni. Would you like a treat?" He offered her one of the bits. Looking back up at Jono, he asked, "How many weeks old is she?"

[furnaceface]

Jono actually considered that question for a moment, because answering it without looking like an absolute bloody madman was going to be a challenge, unless Hernando happened to be familiar with British sign language circa 18-something-something.

He sort of flailed around for a moment, and then just gave in and made his way back to the counter for a small blackboard and piece of chalk that he tended to keep on hand for communicating with customers.

On it, he wrote, Eight. Years.

Joni was a tiny bit older than she looked. And if this wild place had decided that she ought to live forever... well, he'd be quite alright with that.

[hernando_fuentes]

Hernando read the sign, read it again, read it a third time, and then blinked from the tiny baby kitten to Jono's face. "Well. That is certainly a miracle, no?" He smiled at the kitten, "So many people who buy a kitten wishing it to stay small forever and while eight years is not forever, it is for a kitten. How nice."

[furnaceface]

Jono nodded his agreement, and then, in print underneat his first explanation, he added, A gift, from a friend.

From... not quite Death herself. One of her assistants. Death was somebody else, somebody that he had loved dearly.

Life was complicated, that way.

[hernando_fuentes]

"That is some gift, my friend," Hernando whistled, feeding the kitten another tidbit of meat and gently stroking her little kitten head.

[what_the_shock]

Some time during the day, Dr. O'Hara dropped by, saw the place was open, and strode in. He stood off to one side, arms crossed, listening to the music.

[furnaceface]

And Jonothon continued to play, quite intent on his music, for another good five minutes or so before he became aware of... well...

He lowered his violin slowly and turned to look at the Doctor, and then nodded a faintly guarded welcome.

The kitten slunk away to hide under a piano.

[what_the_shock]

"Jonothon." Miguel nodded to him. "Lovely playing."

[furnaceface]

Jonothon gave another small nod before turning... not quite turning his back on the doctor, but making his way to the counter in order to gingerly lay the violin back into its case. And then he reached for his slate and his chalk.

Can I help you today, Doctor?

[what_the_shock]

"The question is, can I help you?" he asked. "Have you given any more thought to my offer?"

[furnaceface]

Jonothon watched Dr. O'Hara for a few long, painful moments.

And then he bowed his head.

Yes.

The things that were going on inside of his chest were unsettling at the best of times, but over the past few weeks, they'd only gotten more terrifying.

[what_the_shock]

Dr. O'Hara did his best to keep his excitement from his face. It wasn't seemly or conducive to getting Jono's agreement.

"And?"

[furnaceface]

Jonothon pictured himself laid out across a medical table again, another curiosity for an excited doctor to pick apart, to marvel at what it could possibly be that was even keeping him alive. Maybe to actually find out, god save them all...

Slowly, deliberately, he circled the Yes on the slate.

[what_the_shock]

Now Dr. O'Hara smiled. Not only might he learn what kept Jono together, he'd learn what he could do with that and what he already knew.

"You're making the right decision," he assured him.

[furnaceface]

Jonothon just stared at him hard for a long moment, and then sighed and bowed his head.

In his experience, people who said things like that were proof positive that he was very much making the wrong one.

He glanced up again briefly, and then wrote, simply, When?

[what_the_shock]

"I'll need to run some tests as soon as possible," Dr. O'Hara said. "Then we can get to the surgery as soon as tomorrow, unless something comes up."

He was pretty determined it wouldn't. He knew he might not get another chance.

[furnaceface]

You were correct, Doctor. You absolutely would not.

Tests?

Jonothon looked at him speculatively for a moment.

Will those take long?