Nostalgia

[w0rmy]

((Reserved for Reaver! I\'m sorry this took so long... FORGIVE ME))


It was early afternoon, third day of the week. The sun was high in the sky, yet the weather was mild and sweet. There were only a few clouds in the sky so the people of Oberon had nothing to worry about. Everyone was bustling about, talking about their mornings and what they would like to do later on. Unfortunately, there was also gossiping but the little bard paid no attention. It was none of his business to hear and after all, it was all quite trivial. He didn’t care who slept with who… it was not his or anyone’s business… except the ‘offenders’ of course. Naturally, the bard did not speak these opinions aloud. They were his alone. And anyway, it wasn’t as if anyone was going to agree with him. So many people loved gossiping, it was almost as if they had nothing better to do. A little sigh left the young man, not out of spite but rather… boredom. He was bored with the people’s attitudes. They were always the same. Oh, how he wished he was back in Macedonia. Now that was a country with diversity, it possessed a sweet charm unlike Oberon. The bard sighed again, lifting a hand to scratch his chin. The last time he visited Macedonia was a few years ago but to him, it felt like a million light years. Hopefully, by this time next year, he will be back in the beloved country. That is, if uncle approved. The man had to yet to inform his uncle of his decision.

Through the bustling paths, Peperuda walked with an oud hoisted upon his back. To soothe his irritation and disappointment, he would play a song. A song he learnt from Macedonia. It had no words but it still told a story, one of which Peperuda was quite fond of. Even though he was not a religious man, he was still fascinated with the Muslim religion. That isn’t to say that Peperuda is dying to convert! He is fine with what he believes and finds it rather irritating when people attempt to convert. It’s a waste of time because they could be doing some better, like healing and helping the sick. The bard sighed yet again. Peperuda found that sighing was becoming a nasty habit and so he vowed so stop. He didn’t like people who were pessimistic all the time. Peperuda sat down and placed the oud in his lap, strumming a few chords. The beloved oud was in good condition but it looked a bit battered … but then again, it all depends on what it sounds like right?  

Peperuda decided he would play a song about \'traveling alone.\' It was one of his favourites. It was a beautiful piece but the man wondered, would they like it? The people of Oberon? It was quite an exotic piece… and well, Oberon is anything but exotic. Resisting the urge the sigh, Peperuda began to play…

[Reaver]

Valdis strolled slowly through the crowded way, letting the tide of people surround her. She wasn\'t used to being in crowds, and enjoyed seeing the diversity and character of the city. She could hear music over the din of the crowd, and did her best to find the source of it. An odd choice of song for such a social place, it struck her as different, unique. Something new to sink her claws into.

Restraining a grin of delight, something that would have set the people around her on edge (their paranoia never failed to amuse her) she tittered and set about pulling her hair into a ponytail. If there was a musician to be found, then she wouldn\'t want them thinking she was just some abject critter looking for some attention. She had to look gathered, interested in the music, not the idea of socializing. Although, she was more curious about the person than the music. The music was fascinating, making her think about things she thought long locked away. The musician had to be so much more interesting to be able to create such a melody.

It was just a new fascination for her. So many new sorts of people. She couldn\'t remember the last time she had been in a community so large without burning the walls down and slaying every grown man in sight. Mercenary work had an unsettling way of dealing with meeting new people.

Lips pulled into a contemplative frown, she had the good fortune to round a corner and see the musician sitting just across the pathway. How fortunate. She nudged a man nearby and nodded her head towards the apparent bard, raising her eyebrows and hoping to raise the man\'s own curiousity. Once she figured enough people thought the music interesting and worth paying attention to, she strolled over. "You seem to be to makin\' quite a scene. I haven\'t been t\'hearing such a talented musician in quite some time." Lips pursing together, she tapped a finger on her chin and then smiled innocently. "Mind if I sit and listen?"

[w0rmy]

Even if though not many stopped, Peperuda appreciated the few that stopped to look and listen. His long fingers plucked the strings expertly, trying to emphasis the meaning of the song. It was hard. Mainly because Peperuda had never travelled alone in his life, it had always been with his uncle. However, the composer had spent much of life alone so the man was able to construct such an emotional piece. Even though Peperuda viewed the man as an idol, he couldn’t help but envy him. There was no way that he could create something as beautiful as that. All the same, he doubted that the people would notice, they hardly noticed anything… oh dear, Peperuda could have kicked himself for thinking like that. He shouldn’t feel such raw contempt! Sighing the tiniest of sighs, Peperuda continued to play, not wanting his fingers to sleep out of distraction. He was up to the second part of the song now. This was his favourite part and he wasn’t afraid to express it. Oh, how he loved this song!!

He hardly noticed the arrival of the blonde, his concentration lay elsewhere and for a good reason too. Peperuda couldn’t choke now, not in front of all these people, even if a majority of them weren’t listening. All the same, Peperuda felt entitled to do a good-no! An excellent job. He only looked upon hearing a voice, offering a smile to the stranger. Someone who liked his playing! Oh, the young man felt touched! Even though people had called him talented, they had never properly understood Middle Eastern music… but that was to be expected. Oberon wasn’t a Middle Eastern country but rather, a European country… if that wasn’t obvious. Even though it did have it pros, Peperuda found it lacked in musical talent. Oh well, nothing was perfect. The bard nodded but made no attempt to speak. It would break his concentration. He was half way through the second part of the song now.

Once Peperuda had finished the song, he set the instrument to the side. For a moment, he would rest. “Did you like song?” He said with a heavy Bulgarian accent. His English was also slightly broken. He had only learnt English a little while ago and it still had yet to be perfected. Not that he wanted it to be perfected anyway; he didn’t plan staying in Oberon forever. “It is nice to see someone who is interested. There are not a lot. I mean, people think it too different, yes? Do you understand?”

[Reaver]

Valdis blushed, flustered. He wasn\'t supposed to appreciate her interest that much. "I was t\'loving it. Reminds me of some of the music my friend has been t\'listening to in his time." Scratching her chin, she frowned. "He says, it was t\'being music from his birth home."

She couldn\'t remember where, though. Not that it really mattered. Norway was their home now. Not this Oberon place, either. Culture was simply too different. She could see what the musician meant about the music. She liked it because it reminded her of Magnus and the stories he used to tell her. It was different though, strange music to her ears.

"I know what y\'be to meaning. I like it though. Perhaps you\'d be t\'playin\' more for me?" She smiled sweetly. It wasn\'t everyday she got to meet interesting people, and she was curious about the music\'s origin now. Magnus had told her where he was born, but the name just wasn\'t coming to mind. Was it the same? It had been awhile since Magnus hired anyone to play something from his home... her memory could be misleading her.

[w0rmy]

He noticed the blush but thought nothing of it. Peperuda noticed that girls in these parts blushed more than they did in the east, it was a bit annoying. Even though he had just this woman, he liked her. Her accent was heavy but Peperuda couldn’t place it. He wondered vaguely where she hailed from but as it was not the time, he uttered no such thought. Peperuda folded his fingers and rested them upon his knee, grinning at the blonde woman before him. Some might view this as cheeky but whoever knew Peperuda… it was nothing of the sort. It was just Peperuda. And after all, the man is a bard and we all know they tend to be an odd sort.

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.” He picked up the oud again, “I’ll play another.” What song should be played? Peperuda pressed his lips into a frown, wondering what to play. Perhaps, it would just be best if he improvised. Peperuda stretched his fingers and began to strum. It was very different from the last. It possessed more of an Eastern-European flavour… though; Peperuda doubted that the girl would be able to pint point the difference. Oh well.

Peperuda was disappointed with his improvisation skills. It was too fast, not soft and melodic like the song previously. He was nothing like the bard in Macedonia who could easily improvise on the spot. Even though Peperuda was smart for his age, he was still genially young and stupid. He had to yet to realise that the older you get, the better you get. Though simple, Peperuda didn’t understand. Even though it went against his heart’s desire, Peperuda continued to play. He would only stop when it deemed fit…

[Reaver]

Valdis sat down next to the bard, relaxing to the music. He didn\'t seem like much of a conversationalist, at leasy at the moment, so she merely enjoyed the music. The bards Magnus had always managed to find to play music were always arrogant, a self-centered lot. Now that they were in Oberon, the people, bards especially seemed more friendly. Perhaps it was simply because disease and war weren\'t as rampant here. Back home, the bards and other storytellers used to be the friendliest of them.

She still wasn\'t sure where this fellow was from, but as he continued to play she took out one of her carvings and her multi-use knife. It was a fitting choice to work on. A seated man playing a long-stringed instrument she had only seen once before. She had seen the man with a strange lady that had just arrived in Oberon. Although it wasn\'t the same instrument the bard was using, she decided she would give the carving to him as soon as it was done, which wasn\'t far off.