a_gentle_boy | Fourteenth PSI

[It is time to sum up what Lucas has been doing all summer. This is the culmination of hours of hard work and dedication. This is the pinnacle of success for the boy who has been deprived of a normal childhood. It is also the first time the player has tried a post of this sort.

Four scenarios will be presented. One is welcome to respond to as many of them as one wishes. Numbering the initial comment may be helpful.]

First Scenario:
[It is a peaceful day in Mayfield. But what is that horrific racket? As the alarm rings insistently, smoke pours out an open window accompanied shortly after by its source, a flaming brick of some sort that unfortunately lands in a rosebush and immediately sets it on fire. Closer inspection would reveal that this was once formerly a cakepan. Closer inspection is, however, impossible due to the fact that a coughing, choking Lucas covered in soot has just run out the front door and is now blasting the burning bush with the hose. He does not look pleased.]

Second Scenario:
[It is a peaceful day in Mayfield. But what is that horrific racket? Again? In the park, birds, humans, and anything with ears quietly begin to edge away from the child ostensibly playing a recorder on a bench. In actuality, he is managing to hit a note that has never been recorded before in the history of mankind. This is a great achievement and is followed shortly after by the world record of 'most incorrect notes played simultaneously on one instrument'.

After about twenty minutes of this, Lucas sighs and places the instrument on the bench beside him. He does not look pleased.]

Third Scenario:
[It is a peaceful day in Mayfield. It is difficult to make a horrific racket while drawing, so the town is spared, for now. He is again in the park, but this time, stares intensely at anyone who happens by. Those who come up from behind may notice that his artwork is . . . Well, actually, it's not terrible. He doesn't seem too pleased with himself, though, and there is soon a large pile of crumpled paper around him.]

Fourth Scenario:
[It is not a very peaceful day in Mayfield. There is a boy in the middle of his yard yelling, screaming, and performing the most bizarre form of martial arts ever invented. It seems, somehow, to involve a lot of kicking and a lot of . . . yo-yo tricks. Walk the Dog leaves a trail of burning grass, Around the World breaks off a tree branch with concussive force, and the Forward Pass is . . . actually headed straight at your face. Whoops.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[A weird little man and his pet dodo stop to watch you with the recorder. He folds his arms and considers you seriously. Once Lucas stops and gives up, he waves a discerning finger.]

Now now! You'll never get anywhere giving up that quickly! Goodness, who taught you?

. . . Nobody.

[His tone is glum. His answer also explains a good deal.]

I don't know. Maybe I'm not meant to play an instrument.

[Cynric picks up your recorder and inspects it. Personal space, what is that.]

Well there's your problem! You can't just pick up an instrument and expect to master it overnight. It takes practice! Discipline! Training! Took me years to learn how to sing, you know. It's challenging, but very rewarding.

I can already sing. I've just never tried to play something before, but it's been a month and all the birds still fly away.

Except for that, I guess.

[He seems to notice the dodo for the first time. His facial expression is difficult to define, but appears to be a mix of surprise and resignation.]

You can sing? Excellent! Well then, perhaps the recorder isn't for you then. Have you tried any other instruments?

[As for the dodo, it takes a lot to scare him off. He seems just as interested in you. Hooray new people!]

. . . Someone said the recorder was the easiest thing to learn how to play. I figured I probably shouldn't try anything else if I couldn't manage it.

[Lucas tentatively reaches out a hand to see about petting it.]

Well, I've never tried it, so I can't vouch for it. But perhaps you just need to try another kind of instrument! Perhaps a string instrument. Or the piano!

Oh, Hephestus here loves people! No need to be afraid.

[Heph coos at you. He sounds like a 3-foot tall pigeon.]</i?

If you think so. The violin has strings, right? But I've seen Luke play and it looks really hard. The piano might be easier . . .

[His hand makes contact with the dodo's back and Lucas begins to stroke.]

Hello, Hephestus.

I do think so!

Luke, Luke... oh, was he the one playing violin on the phone the other day? He was quite good! Maybe he can teach you. I only know how to sing, so if you already know that, all I can tell you is to keep practicing!

[That was actually awhile ago. Cynric's sense of time is severely skewed.

Heph squawks at you. It's loud, but he looks happy.]

[Lucas flinches a little from the sound, but he is smiling as he does so. Despite the fact that this has been one of the most spontaneous and, well . . . odd conversations Lucas has ever had, he somehow does feel better.

Maybe it was the dodo.]

. . . OK. Alright, I won't give up yet. Thanks for talking to me, mister.

[That's how conversations with Cynric generally tend to go. Now if he could only remember that he's spoken with Lucas before. His memory isn't what it once was.]

No need for thanks! Just remember, to get good at anything takes practice. You'll get there!

[Er. That's alright, since Lucas and his player had conveniently forgotten as well. Blame it on the stress of living in Mayfield.]

I should see if I can get anyone who knows anything about this stuff to teach me, too.

I'm Lucas, by the way. It's nice to meet you.

[No worries. They never formally introduced themselves anyway! Your voice'd be familiar to Cynric though, so he'd give you a curious look before introducing himself.]

I'm sure there are other musician in town. Like the man who plays that terrible trumpet music!

Likewise! I'm Cyrnic. And this here is Hephestus.

Trumpet . . . ? Sorry, I don't think I know who that is.

. . . Would you like to hear a song? I think I've got one down, at least.

A trumpet? Really? Brass instrument. Very loud.

Oh, that would be great, yes!

OK.

[Lucas picks the recorder back up and waits a few moments with his eyebrows furrowed. After a little bit, he begins to blow. It is 'Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star'. At least, it ought to be. It resembles a funeral dirge instead for some odd reason.]

[Cynric listens, arms crossed, nodding while you play. Once you finish:]

Well, that was better. There was a song in there somewhere. But it sounded positively morose! Confidence, my boy! Have some and it will be reflected in your music. Don't let the instrument intimidate you!

W-What, really? I thought I had it down pretty well . . . Anyway, I guess I should just go and see if I can try something else.

Not bad for a beginner I suppose. Just stick with it!

Fourteenth PSI

second!

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