♪ The Second Measure ♪

[elegantvirtuoso]

[There seems to be a melody coming from one of the tea rooms on the first floor, carrying out to the hallway and as far as the sound is willing to travel. It seems Austria is simply unable to contain his mixed feelings on various subjects anymore, and rather than put them into words, he has taken to the nearest available piano

Comments

[magyarfujoshi]

[Hungary sits beside him on the piano bench, simply enjoying the music for the moment. it is only through centuries with him and the unique expression in his playing that she can tell what he means. she will not question him, not yet, and instead seeks to listen to every inflection in his notes to learn his feelings]

Why don't I have any icons of him actually playing. What.

[elegantvirtuoso]

[Hungary is always welcome there, in that seat beside Austria on the bench. The piece begins very softly, and alternates between moments of calm and notes of dizzying speed, played with certainty of his uncertainty. There are harsher, darker sections as well, and the entire piece seems to contain very mixed feelings. There is a clear worry throughout, however it is mixed with moments of hope as well. It seems to switch between thoughts of success and thoughts of failure, though overall it seems to be a positive piece depicting mere moments of doubt. There is so much to do and only a very short time left in which to do it, with the second week of August drawing ever closer. For what it's worth, the piece ends on a relatively high note.]

because austria is always playing. for instance, in your icon, he is playing a tiny pocket piano

[magyarfujoshi]

[she takes it all in, watching his long pianist's fingers move with practiced precision. when it ends, she turns to study his face. her voice is soft; knowing]

I know, dear.

LOL so talented of him!

[elegantvirtuoso]

[Of course Hungary would understand his meaning. She was by his side more often than anyone else, and she had heard him play his feelings many, many times before. Aside from that, certainly his concerns were not uncommon.]

Things have become even more complex recently, haven't they?

[zerocolors]

[Suzaku (he finally decided to just wear his normal attire, and not the tulip Zero mask) was having a walk inside the mansion when he heard the music.

Following it, he finds the room, and liking listening to the piano, he leans against the wall right next to the door, not entering seeing that he didn't want to interrupt Austria.]

[elegantvirtuoso]

[Suzaku goes unnoticed by Austria, though with some of the other more annoying disruptions of the day, Austria is grateful to be playing in peace for once. As the sonata comes to a halt once again, Austria breathes deeply, relieved to have finally gotten his feelings out, completely uninterrupted.]

[zerocolors]

[After Austria had finished playing, Suzaku hesitated on if he should say anything or just leave unnoticed, but seeing that he got to listen to a beautifully played piano for free, he didn't want to leave without thanking the other.

He clapped as he entered the door.]

I hope you didn't mind me listening in, but it was such a nice piece.

[elegantvirtuoso]

[Austria turned at the applause. So there had been someone there after all. Austria did not seem to mind this discovery though, as Suzaku had been rather polite about it.]

Thank you very much. I did not notice anyone listening, so I did not mind in the slightest. I'm pleased you enjoyed it.

[dusty_divinity]

[Aziraphale had been on his way to the library, his usual haunt, with a fresh cuppa, his usual drink, when the strains of a familiar melody lured him away from his intended destination with phantom fingers of song. Reaching the doorway with little trouble, the angel enjoyed, in his quiet way, the breath and story of music, and Beethoven had always been a favorite. Though Aziraphale had learned by unpleasant empirical evidence that the old boy was a bit of a git when it came to eating out. No matter. Geniuses with crazy hair were usually allowed a bit of latitude with nitpicky things like manners.

Sipping his tea, the man leaned against a receptive wall, and simply listened. Though the blonde occasionally fulfilled the stereotype set forth by his hair color, one simply didn't exist for a few thousand years without learning a thing or two about emotion. Perhaps, once this musician's feelings were sufficiently drained into the flow of notes, he would wish to speak in more precise, though less euphonious, ways.]

[elegantvirtuoso]

[Once again, the sonata came to a halt as the Austria finished the piece. He turned then, to the man who had entered the room while he was playing. Unlike some other guests, Austria seemed a bit less upset with this visitor, as he was able to listen within the room without being distracting.

Austria nodded at the man.] Hello. ...Have you been listening long?

[dusty_divinity]

[With a gentle, dreamy smile at the finished piece, Aziraphale straightened and inclined his head at the mucision in a universal gesture of greeting. The boundlessly breathless enthusiasm with which he usually greeted new persons was tempered somewhat by the music's melancholy and by the memories it engendered. A life, long lived and firmly entrenched in its habits, had been effectively transplanted, and though Aziraphale was content and pleased with this new life, and these new people, he did miss what had once been. Politely British, Aziraphale's tone held quite a bit of admiration for the man's skill.]

"Hello there. Sixth or seventh bars, I think. You play very well."

[After taking a contemplative sip, Aziraphale smiled a bit brighter, though his gaze remained soft.]

"I don't think we've met; I'd have remembered you. My name is Aziraphale."

[elegantvirtuoso]

Thank you very much. It is appreciated.

[Austria offers a very small smile in return, though he is a rather reserved person when not playing an instrument. He wasn't "shy" exactly, but he was a rather serious person who kept his emotions off of his sleeve.]

My name is Austria. It is good to meet you, Aziraphale. I don't believe we've met either, as I think I would have remembered you as well.

[cake_n_bunnies]

[Hunny was on the way back to his room after a cake binge when he heard expressive, delicate music emanating from a room nearby. He followed the notes, hoping to maybe find Tamaki there. When he reached the room and saw that the man who was playing was certainly not Tamaki, he still stood there and listened. It was beautiful, and it reminded him of his days in the Host Club.]

[elegantvirtuoso]

[Austria pauses in the middle of the sonata and turns to see who has entered the room, only to find what appeared to be a young boy there.]

...Yes? Can I help you?

[cake_n_bunnies]

I didn't mean to interrupt, I just wanted to listen. It reminds me of someone I knew back home.

[elegantvirtuoso]

Ah. [That was the second time Austria had heard such a thing.] Well, you're welcome to continue listening then, if you wish to.

[Austria then turned his attention back to the piano and continued the piece from the exact moment he left off.]

[militaristics]

[ Somewhere, perhaps in the back of his mind, Austria can hear Prussia's distinct voice screaming

"BEETHOVEN'S GERMAN."

What the hell is this response. ]

[elegantvirtuoso]

[Austria, being the refined, composed aristocrat he is, does not properly respond. He is going to be the more mature one here. The much, much more mature one.

But he does angrily rationalize in the back of his mind that if one lives in a country long enough they may well be considered a citizen, and as such Beethoven is certainly considered Austrian.]