[A wince and an eyeroll -- he knew it.] Well hopefully they don't have their bed up against that wall. [He might find out in a few days.]
No idea what we're doing -- you specifically asked me about the piano. I'm trying to get it back. It needs space, it's a baby grand.
[Taking the orb in his hands, he closes his eyes, thinking as hard as he can about that piano.] It's made it through enough destruction around it already, what's dimensional travel, after all? If someone can jump from space... [He lets out a half of a laugh, shaking his head before sighing and throwing the orb to the ground.
It makes a loud noise and he jumps, wincing at the flash of light, cursing himself mentally for doing this at this hour, but after the noise America made, what's done is done. The light is blinding at first and he covers his eyes with his forearm, but when he lowers it there are tears welling up in his eyes.
He runs over to the piano, touching it, giving a few keys a frantic but quiet stroke to test that yes it's here, yes it works and sounds just as it always did. The bench made it there too and he sits on it immediately, resting his cheek on the fall board.] Darling. [He could not care any less that America is seeing him get this emotional over an inanimate object, it's his piano, damn it.]
You were asking about it... had you wanted to hear anything? I could play something very soft. I don't want to bother anyone any more than we already have, but she's back and I want to play her.
no subject
No idea what we're doing -- you specifically asked me about the piano. I'm trying to get it back. It needs space, it's a baby grand.
[Taking the orb in his hands, he closes his eyes, thinking as hard as he can about that piano.] It's made it through enough destruction around it already, what's dimensional travel, after all? If someone can jump from space... [He lets out a half of a laugh, shaking his head before sighing and throwing the orb to the ground.
It makes a loud noise and he jumps, wincing at the flash of light, cursing himself mentally for doing this at this hour, but after the noise America made, what's done is done. The light is blinding at first and he covers his eyes with his forearm, but when he lowers it there are tears welling up in his eyes.
He runs over to the piano, touching it, giving a few keys a frantic but quiet stroke to test that yes it's here, yes it works and sounds just as it always did. The bench made it there too and he sits on it immediately, resting his cheek on the fall board.] Darling. [He could not care any less that America is seeing him get this emotional over an inanimate object, it's his piano, damn it.]
You were asking about it... had you wanted to hear anything? I could play something very soft. I don't want to bother anyone any more than we already have, but she's back and I want to play her.