Sixteenth PSI

[a_gentle_boy]

[For most of the summer, torturous sounds have been coming from the music room of the school during the late afternoons.  After deciding the recorder was a bust, Lucas had moved on to the violin, the trumpet, and the flute, passing through each one and deciding in short order that he had better stop for the good of humanity.  It was only about about three weeks ago that he had decided to try his hand at the piano sitting dusty and forgotten in the corner.

He had seen something like it before, with the DCMC.  Duster had taught him a little about instruments while they'd been traveling -- He'd even been allowed to pluck a little at Duster's bass.  And, of course, there'd been that whole business with feeling the beat of the enemy's life force.  This didn't mean that he knew anything about playing instruments.  The futility of the summer had proved that.  Yet . . . when he'd begun to plonk away at the keys . . . something just clicked.  Sure, the torturous sounds continued.  But after a little while . . . they at least began to resolve themselves into something vaguely resembling a song.

It was a song he wouldn't forget soon.  The song that had played in that room . . . The song that meant . . .   And with his last meeting with Vince still fresh in his mind, Lucas somehow thought he knew what the song was trying to say.]

Do you hear me call to you?  Can you even hear my heart's cry?
Still I call out to the wind . . . Even as it flows on by, for
I believe our dreams can still come true.  I'll always keep my faith and trust in you

Even if I'm a fool, I'll always feel the same about you.  I believe in friends and laughter and the wonders love can do; I believe in second chances and that's why I still believe in you.

 . . . . . . i . . . believe in second chances . . . . . . .

[Later that night, he returns to the park and sings his song quietly with a good sense of pitch.  He is wearing his school clothes from last year.  They are too small for him.
Time moves on.]

((Feel free to comment while Lucas is practicing on the piano as well. He will sound pretty awful unless he's playing this song.))

Comments

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

[Though Vince is partly the reason he felt compelled to sing this song, there are a few other reasons to his strange bout of melancholy. Lucas doesn't notice for a little while, but breaks off when he does.]

. . . Hi, Mi -- Hi, Vince.

[He's quiet, but he doesn't sound very upset.]

[numanstan.livejournal.com]

... I'm sorry.

[and then he looks on expectantly

because it's totally all better now right]

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

You could have told me nicely if it bothered you that much.

[numanstan.livejournal.com]

It doesn't. I was just... ill that day. Really ill. And it made me say stuff I'd never say to anybody 'cause I don't think it... But, if you'd like to secretly resent me like everybody else is, that'd be alright.

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

[Lucas smiles a little.]

I know. I think we're pretty good friends if the worst you could say was that it annoys you when I say 'Mister'.

Something's been a little wrong with people recently, hasn't it? I don't think it's something I can heal . . . But a lot of people have been acting funny. It's alright, Mr. Vince.

[numanstan.livejournal.com]

[best little friend ever ;u;]

So, it's not just me, then?... Do y'think it's the town doin' it? They usually make everybody go mad, though, 'stead of just a few people.

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

I didn't notice it, but Crowe made an apology, too, and Mr. Hughes, and I think a few other people are acting funny.

[Lucas's face darkens a little.]

I hate to say it, but it's probably an ability that someone got back recently.

[numanstan.livejournal.com]

... The ability to turn people into total arseholes?

That's awful.

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

. . . Maybe. That sounds kinda silly, though. I think it might be the ability of corruption.