I get by with a little help from my friends[Open]

[Emery Stark]

Music is Life. It was a routine that started back in high school. Emery; her twin brother Emerson; her best friend Halo; and his best friend Mikhail gathered in a shaded space at Pike Place and would play as long as they could: Emery on her ancient violin, Emerson on his beloved cello, Halo on her lyre or flute, and Mikhail on his classical guitar. The classics would be played when the mood struck them, as well as modern fair, though they favored Emilie Autumn, Rasputina, and the Mediaeval Baebes.

This day started off as no different. Arm in arm, Emery and Halo made their way from the campus at Antioch, having just finished their Western Civilization class, their conversation low and surprisingly in Persian, Halo’s native tongue and a language she’d been teaching Emery since they were children. To any that passed by and knew Persian, the discussion was about their entomology class, scheduled for the next day. The topic had them both on edge. Spiders. Halo was deathly afraid of them. Emery saw them as just another of God’s creatures to be cherished and respected. It was a debate that they had many times over, with no one winning, just some good natured ribbing and teasing…more of Emery teasing Halo than anything else.

The meeting place was reached and to neither of their surprise, Emerson and Mikhail were already there, slow jamming to something bluesy they were more than likely collaborating on to record. The two girls would quickly set up to join them, though only Halo would opt into the sound while Emery rosined up her bow to get ready for the next song. And without much pause, the boys and Halo would launch into Scarborough Fair. After the opening, instead of joining in with her violin, she would join them with her voice:

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Remember me to one who lives there,
He once was a true love of mine.

Tell him to make me a cambric shirt,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Without a seam or needle work,
Then he'll be a true love of mine.

Tell him to wash it in yonder dry well
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Where water ne'er sprang, nor drop of rain fell
Then he'll be a true love of mine.

Tell him to dry it on yonder grey thorn
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Which ne'er bore blossom since Adam was born
Then he'll be a true love of mine.

Her voice was pure and unwavering in its silken, almost hypnotic tones. As she sang, a crowd had begun to gather, some swaying in time with the tune. Some of the older folks would join in on the refrain, adding their voices to her own. Halo’s flute was the other main focus, the ivory instrument as old, as the violin cradled in Emery’s lap. When the last note died on lips, eyes did open, the sound of applause bringing blush to the apples of her cheeks. Blond head dropped demurely, though she’d look up to each person who dropped money into the open guitar case set out.

And as the crowd began to thin, they lapsed into another song…and were even joined by another musician. All were welcomed by the group. Music was life.

[Rowan Willis]

A white mist wisped past the street performers, the consumers who wasn't aware that smoke was in the presence this beautiful clad afternoon. It focused on that girl, the one he met before was all in her orchestra of some kind. She and her entourage certainly was in tuned to the lyrics on their instruments. There he was appearing in a beautiful form, so immaculate Rowan was that one glance will sway you, hypnotize you like a serpent. If he goes like this in his white pants, bare abdomen showing a specious pearl that gave off a shimmering tint as the sun beamed down from the heavens upon it.

The pearl in the middle of his forehead matched the one in his bellybutton as if in contact with each other. Soft, egyptian shoes was all white like the color of his gemstones. His eyes was a pearly-white, his true eye color while human eyes was brown as a disguise to fool the sights of those who lurked. He smiled to himself, thinking he ought to surprise the woman whose music taste could attract him as the melody kept bringing him forward more and more.

He then stopped, forgetting to revert back to a more mortal figure which his Egyptian clothing disappeared then a brown linen shirts, brown pants, and some brown tennis shoes became his choice for a wardrobe. There, now that is better. How was he able to track her? Simple. Once he set eyes on the person, met them one time, a beacon within was set up like a tracking device of some sort. Closer, closer, stop there. He didn't move any closer to the girl and her friends or brother who was sure they must be related cause they look alike except one was a woman and the other was a man. Sticking both hands in his pocket, he observed from a light distance away. If she asked how he knew she was there, he'll think of a story to make up.

[alexander]

And so it would seem that a crowd had gathered and then began to thin out. Among the thinning crowd he still remained with his case in hand. The item present inside of the case was a violin of his own. He was apart of the growing crowd prior and honestly when he had heard the blues rhythm that was what caught his attention. Back in the day he'd been an avid fan of the blues and he could definitely identify with the message the music sent.

When the next song had come and the music started he paid close attention from the crowd as to what instruments were being played. The violin caught his attention. And almost out of instinct he ran full speed back to his own living quarters and fetched his own to bring back to the grounds. Though obviously he was making an effort to go unseen so that no one would witness a black blur whizzing by them. Upon his return they had started into another song. So his next course of action would be to remove his own instrument from its case and take hold of it.

He'd hold the instrument firmly under his chin as his left hand would be holding the slender neckline of the instrument before he'd join in on the song. Listening and joining in with a note or two before he'd get the jist of it and then begin to play the song with them. Nimble gestures aiding him with keeping up as he processed what was being played. Hopefully he'd not draw that much attention to himself, but that was highly doubted. An instrument coming from within the crowd? More than likely the crowd would spread to single out the lone player within it. But it was truly all for the love of music.