by The Duelist » Wed Feb 18, 2004 8:34 pm
Max quickly made his way to the musicians' area before Dia changed her mind. All great military successes in history were based on not giving the other guy time to think about what was happening. He didn't intend to do anything TOO radical...just to spice up the entertainment side of things a bit.
He decided, start small.
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He does not notice the smoke, the booze, or the other distractions. They do not matter. He doesn't notice the red cloaked, and he doesn't see the angry looking, crimson cloaked figure who enters the inn a moment. When the music starts, its easy not to see things. Like just how messed up your life is. Max is a Man On A Mission, here to rescue someone who got put in the wrong place at the wrong time. he has time, but its a race. Every second counts, and thus far its been one constant hellstorm after another.
And this one is Pro Bono. The family had asked, and he couldn't have possibly said no. Not to mom...
But this isn't now. That doesn't matter. Music doesn't care about how you feel, that's why god allowed for more than one song. Music is all for the here and now, evoking the emotion you want. And that's why he, just like every one else whether they admit it or not, can never truly describe it in the past tense, nor can it be felt as something that happened long ago. It is always the present...
And so, once again, Max unleashed all of his feelings out of his system, his worries, his fears, the entire mass that feared to overwhelm him whenever he wasn't acting like a happy-go-lucky bastard.
And he let it go. The electric guitar kicked in over the mandolin, and the beat in his soul went over in the background.
You may some day know what it is that Max did then and there. You may have heard stories of people who have performed on stage, singing a song that cannot translate into english. You can't understand what they're saying, yet somehow it makes perfect sense. You can feel the sorrow and pain. You don't understand a bloody word of it, but you can still somehow feel the meaning. And out comes the masterwork. But this wasn't sorrow, this wasn't pain. This was happiness, what Max was hoping to find. And it was good.
But with all good things, it starts small, a single note as the first block on the pyramid...and then it gets covered over by more...and the master musician knows exactly where the show will go.
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Rick Dwyer watched from the entrance.
"Stupid *&^!#?ing Showoff."