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Post by Delilah A. Black on Feb 7, 2013 14:38:38 GMT -8
At it again.
Life had been keeping Delilah busy. Very busy. What with the Dragons, the Crows, the Gods...with everything. It had been increasingly draining on her. Even time spent training and being with her son had begin to leave her feeling overworked, as though she had too much going on. She was growing edgy. She needed to recharge, just something for herself, even if it was only for a day.
Before dawn sometime in early February (by her estimation, anyway) Delilah would hop on her modded little dirt-bike with her weapons in tow and take off from the Crow's territory, headed up the coast. Oliver was still sound asleep in his bed. It was Cain and Heather who would be watching the young man today...they made a good team. It was also amusing that they thought Delilah wasn't catching the secretive glances and familiar touches between the two. She wasn't too worried. In times like these, people could use a little more love.
Her destination was her old home, up in Downey. The one she and Oliver had lived in before the bombs fell that doubled as a garage. For some time now, she had felt an inexorable pull towards the area. It was as good a place as any. All that was left was to see what was left. If anything.
It wouldn't take her long to get there, even with the detours. One of the things Delilah took great pride in was exploring every known route towards and away from where she lived. It left options open for her. The way there was fairly barren; she passed a small group of men on her way up there, who followed her with their eyes long after she passed.
Soon, she came up to her old address, and though she knew it by heart, it looked so different from when she had moved there. She turned off her bike as she pulled up to the house, sitting there for a moment as she stared at it, feeling hollow.
The House was only a little ruined. The roof had been torn off in some storm or other. As she recalled, it had been on fire that night, when she fled with Oliver to the Crows Nest. With a sigh, Delilah dismounted her bike and hauled it up the small yard towards the steps, where she hid it beside the stairwell before making her way up, walking inside.
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Post by David B. on Feb 15, 2013 21:22:17 GMT -8
David frowned.
And where was she going?
He was high in the sky, lounging, feeling the currents of the wind. The dawn was carressing his side, kissing it with warmth. His senses were pushed through the currents of the air, and though his powers were not a world effect, the could be stretched by lacing thin strips of it into the breeze and letting it carry it along. He was about half a mile above the Crows nest, now, feeling Delilahs movements as she dusted the trail north. He stayed on his back, but drifted along with her, snagging the back end of her bike so it pulled him, though she would feel no weight.
Once it stopped, he sat up, puttin his chin in his hand as he looked down, eyes watching the girl hide the bike before heading inside a broken down house. He frowned. Why would the First Crow come all this way for a house, he slowly descended after she went inside. Stealthily, his feet would plant on the roof as he crouched, listening, waiting to see what happened inside.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Feb 15, 2013 21:49:37 GMT -8
Unaware she was being watched and convinced she was at least relatively safe, Delilah made her way inside her ruined home.
She looked at the carnage with a sorrowful expression. Her living room in tatters. Her kitchen no doubt raided and ransacked. Same with any valuables she might have had in her and Oliver's bedroom. She wouldn't bother to check these rooms...they would only leave her with despair for the past that was long since lost. It wouldn't do to dwell on it and it wasn't why she was here.
Turning a corner down the dusty, cold hallway near her kitchen, she looked to the pantry just to the left of the refrigerator, with a large padlock on the steel door. An odd inclusion into the otherwise modest home. Reaching into her pocket, Delilah fumbled through her keyring until she found the required key and sliding it in the lock. It clicked open and she put it on the counter with a dull clunk. Quietly, wraithlike, she slipped through the door and into the ink blackness, descending the staircase.
Her eyes could see in the dark, thanks to the earring dangling from her ear, as she made her way with familiarity down those steps and to her basement. Which wasn't really a basement at all...more of a music room.
The walls were hardwood, made for acoustic resonance. Several bass guitars and six strings lined the walls. Three violins and their bows lay in leather cases near a beautiful piano. Near the door was a saxophone, one that Delilah had owned since girl-hood.
She relaxed at the sights of her instruments, the heady smell of wood and the crisp, untouched air. Her solace room. The place she and Oliver had fled to when the bombs fell. Thank God she had the wherewithal to put the lock in place before she left.
Walking quietly, she moved to a small table on the left, drawing a book of matches from one of the drawers. Lighting one, she went to all the candelabras set up purposefully along the walls, lighting each until the room glowed with warm, flickering light. She sat, after a moment at her piano, running a hand over it's keys without depressing any. She shivered.
And she began to play. And, this time, sing a little. Her voice always was better suited for blues.[/u][/url][/size][/center] As she played, her body went from rigid and proper and gradually devolved as the music enveloped her from all corners of the room. It resonated into her bones and, eventually, she began to sway, the closest she would ever really come to dancing. She could hear the other instruments thrum along with her, in her mind, as she played.
Finally, when she stopped, a light sheen of sweat would bead her brow. Delilah would let out a soft, wet laugh, swiping the back of her arm at her eyes. God, but that felt good. Music was a release like no other.
And she missed it. Oh, how she missed it.
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Post by David B. on Feb 17, 2013 17:45:55 GMT -8
David was standing now, in the darkness.
He had followed her down the stairs, hovering so his feet were inches off the ground. He watched her play, but said nothing, eyes softening as the music filled the dead space. His hands were in his pockets as he stepped out of the shadows.
"I didn't know you could play..."
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Feb 17, 2013 18:26:47 GMT -8
Before she fully registered to whom the voice behind her belonged, Delilah started, the keys hitting a sour note as she pushed her hands against them to whip around, to snarl at the intruder who had listened to her music.
She blinked at the sight of David and her expression immediately softened into one of surprise. Letting out a short breath of relief, she managed a smile. "Christ, David, you scared the shit out of me," The colour was high in her cheeks and the mechanic laughed hesitantly, as if unsure. Shy, even.
The music made her vulnerable. It stripped away all her layers and let her get to weeding out the sickness that death and killing brought to her. She put her hands in her lap, fidgeting with her fingers a little. "Almost no one knows that I do. Two people, including yourself, that's it."
Her eyes moved to his, her eyebrows furrowing a little even as she smiled, a little...pleased to see him. "You followed me all the way here?"
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Post by David B. on Feb 19, 2013 6:44:03 GMT -8
He leaned back against the wall, smiling.
"Not that far- not when you got the wind to carry you."
He glanced around at all the other instruments, then back at her, then at the house above them. He brought his eyes back to her and his eyebrows furrowed.
"What is this place?"
OOC: Sorry it's short!
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Feb 19, 2013 8:46:03 GMT -8
Delilah looked around at the room herself, smiling weakly, almost....apologetically. As if she had no business being weak and coming here. "The music room of my old house. Oliver and I huddled where you're standing right now when the bombs fell."
Restless fingers of one hand tapped out a quick piano riff before she forced the hand from the instrument and into her lap. "This is my first time back here since that day. I...need music to balance me out. It's calming to know I can create something with these hands that's beautiful, rather tHan destroying it all."
Which was truly how she felt. That if she didn't take a moment to step back and let herself do something organized and thoughtful, that she would lose her sense of humanity. Her eyes finally flicked up towards his. Oh, why did it have to be him? Not when he clouded her mind so...she was already clouded as she was, and now he was here, listening to her play...
She forced herself to stop, smiling hesitantly. "Do you play?"
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Post by David B. on Feb 19, 2013 15:30:42 GMT -8
He smiled, and nodded his understanding.
"I get it. Thats what flying does for me. Up in the sky or in a storm, there is nothing else. Just raw power or a calm breeze. Nothing else- no noise. No... responsibilty."
He pushed off the wall and put his hands on his head as he walked toward the instruments, looking them over. They seemed in well enough shape, despite the bombs and the war. He turned back toward her, glancing around a moment before he continued.
"Are you here...often?"
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Feb 19, 2013 16:07:34 GMT -8
Watching him look around the room, feeling her breath quicken and her heart clench in her chest, cursing at herself for the feeling. She was too exposed, too raw from her emotional outpouring on the piano.
She shook her head at his question, running a restless hand through her long, black hair.
"No. First time here since the bombs fell. I haven't played in...months. A year almost," a soft sigh escaped her as she closed her eyes and she smiled wryly, visualizing her home in it's former glory.
"It used to be so beautiful,"
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Post by David B. on Apr 1, 2013 19:10:00 GMT -8
David smiled.
"I understand. I used to own a house in L.A that was just beautiful and now its nothing but a spit of ash. Even after world war three this place is still gorgeous, though."
He would lean against a wall and take a deep breath. It had been a long time since he had been inside a house, let alone listened to music being played with such intensity. Usually he reserved those for the theater. He would play with the ring on his right index finger, biting his lip a moment as he watched her.
"So- why come back today?"
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Apr 1, 2013 19:41:25 GMT -8
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Post by David B. on Apr 2, 2013 14:50:00 GMT -8
David listened quietly for a bit before pressing the issue.
"Dreams? What kind of dreams? Uh- if you don't mind me asking."
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