Fast fingers [Mikoto][open]

It was late. Like sun setting on the horizon late and filling everywhere it touched with a sorta orange light. Most of the student body had left for the dorms by now and surely the bulk of the faculty wouldn't be around. So...

She had slipped into the music room. Acting like a thief in the night about to make off the with heist of a lifetime. really though she had every right to be here. She was a music major after all. She spent a large portion of her time here in these rooms. So why was she acting like a thief? And why had she tied the bandanna she normally kept rolled up and tied in her hair around her face like some wild west train robber? To answer both of these questions? She was bored. Bored enough to begin pretending for her own amusement.

Once in the room though she became all business. Her strides became purposeful and calculated to an extent. They carried her in the dying springs suns light to a guitar stand. Her left hand clasp around the wooden neck of the instrument as her right looped the wide banded strap over her head to help support the instrument. Casting her aquamarine eyes about again to make sure no one was around she smirks a bit. 

A few more steps, these slightly more excited than the previous ones, carried her to a nearby amp. Several quick movements of her right hand only brought a cable to her guitars port and an amp to life. Picking off several quick chords she checks the instrument for tune. It wasn't a necessary thing considering that only several hours prior she'd been in this room practicing with her class mates. Still, it was a habit that was not one she wished to break lest she not do it sometime and her guitar be completely out of tune. 

The guitar wasn't a regular looking thing. No, that was likely the last description anyone would ever use for it. If one knew their guitars they'd know that the one in her hand was known by one name and one name only. And that name was "Explorer". Sadly, this wasn't a real Explorer made by the Gibson company. Real ones of those were expensive and well beyond a school students means of acquisition. Part time jobs and other means of acquiring the funds to afford one aside there was no way she could ask her family to buy her one. So she'd saved every penny of birthday money she'd received for the past three years amongst other cash gifts. Someday she'd have the means to afford a real one. For now though this no name "Explorer" would suffice.

Hers was s standard lacquer black model with basic frets. The only things that weren't stock were the electronics. She'd replaced the pickups and bought better strings. And while some would argue the money she spent on her strings and the upgrade of her pickup could have in theory put her far closer to her goal of owning an actual one. Her counter had been that while that was true having a guitar that sounded and played like garbage would only hamper her ability to learn. So here she was.

Picking off the first strings to a song she stares out into the setting sun. Reaching behind her she turn the volume up just a bi on the amp. The opening was a slow pick at a few strings that always sounded better when accompanied by at least a bass and a drum. But that wouldn't last too long. Soon she was strumming more notes from her loyal companion. The tune had a over reaching tone of malevolence to it. A foreboding feeling of evil and danger. That too didn't last long as her hands continued to drive out the tune.

The suddenly as if launched by a rocket the song took off and her hands keeping pace with ease. Soon she was mouthing the words, "Abandon all hope who enter here... For this is where all things are left behind." The pace maintained a constant four beat measure with the occasional burst into a two beat. Slipping into a fast paced guitar solo her left hand shot up and down the fret board before settling in and returning the four and two beat alternating measure. 

The song slowed down for a moment and she absently began banging her head along with the beat. After another furious guitar solo the song slowed again and her head banging stop. Her hair disheveled and her bandana missing or rather on a desk instead of being on her head she played through the slow section using this time to stare out the window through the follicles of hair that hung in her face now. Blowing them from her face as her fingers picked out the slower section. There was a certain satisfaction to playing this song. It was hard to explain even to herself. Perhaps it was the motif of the song. Then...

Yet again the song picked up. Like a jack hammer or a machine gun bursting out from her guitar. A violently fast fury of notes into a still fast but less complicated string of notes. The foreboding nature remained and a new more sinister feeling had begun to come from the notes. The song slowed again to a less frantic pace. It was hard to describe the feeling at this moment of the song. The same noted repeatedly played over and over and over into a two note alternating repetition. 

Eventually it flowed into a rise and fall from a low note into a higher note then a drop back to the lower note. This continued to give the feeling of climbing or descending stairs. The song moved into a slow melodramatic strike of a single note that was held for a long duration before the song began a quick bounce on a single chord. Like a chant almost. She'd taken a wider footed lowered stance as she glared out the window sweat dampening her hair as her face was twisted into an almost angry snarl. If anyone could see her face it would be quite frightening. Not that anyone would likely be looking in the windows at this time of day.

This song liked to speed up and slow down a lot. Not that she complained as it was interesting to play. And to demonstrate this point the song snapped into a deeper slightly faster note and pace. A three beat measure to finish out the song as she continued to slowly bang her head as she played the outro. She could only wish her band mates would practice this song too. They had a show coming up at a local club and this would be a good song to play to end it. An of fifteen minute long onslaught on the ears of those who came to see them preform. 

(The song she played is Iced Earth's "Dante's Inferno". Give it a listen to really get a feel for the situation. She'll play another next post.)

Pressing the power button with a skinny finger, Kyle waited with bated breath for the laptop to turn on.  There was a clicking noise, and then the inner workings of her pride and joy started whirring, eliciting a huge grin from the first year.  Blue eyes watched as the start up screen came into view, only to be replaced by the ever-familiar login screen.  Entering her password with practised ease, she couldn't help but grin even more as the machine processed her request.  Over the past week or two, Kyle had been upgrading the hardware on her "baby," and had taken some risks in doing so.  It wasn't usually in her nature to do such a reckless thing, especially with one of her most prized possessions, but the thing had been getting a little outdated.  She had to keep up with the times, and if that meant she might fry a circuit (or something worse) in doing so, then so be it.  She was certain that she could've fixed most of the potential problems anyway, save for a few that could have done some irreparable damage.

But, her baby was safe, and showing her the desktop screen exactly as it had been before the upgrades.  Moving the mouse over to the program she used to do performance diagnostics, Kyle watched as a little window popped up on her screen.  It began to give her a rundown of what the program was testing... and how long everything would take.

She scowled at the number.  One day, she would create a program that could finish it's job in a timely fashion... Well, she would hire someone to do it anyway, because that kind of software programming wasn't something she was familiar with (or good at).  Sighing, Kyle gently moved the computer onto her desk, clearing away some papers and little pieces of various things as she did so.  Once that was done, she cast a glance around the room, looking for something to tinker with...

But there was nothing.

Another scowl crossed the young girl's face when she realized that she had been too focused on her laptop to look for future projects.  There wasn't even anything to take apart in the room, either.  Well, not something she hadn't already dismantled and put back together anyway.  She sighed again, and spun her desk chair back to the computer.  The hour count had gone up, eliciting a frustrated growl from the fourteen year old.  Now what was she supposed to do?  She tilted her head back, sinking lower in her seat, to the point where her rear was barely on it.  Years of practice had made it possible for her to do this without the chair wheeling right out from under her, and now she tended to do it out of boredom (much to the alarm of anyone in the vicinity.  It was a good thing she was alone).

Deciding that sitting around and moping about wasn't going to solve anything, Kyle slowly and carefully pushed herself up into a standing position.  She grabbed her full tool-kit--the one in the big, metal box--as opposed to one of her many pocket-sized ones, and then reached out to open the door.  Light flooded into the room, blinding the first year who had been sitting in the darkness for hours.  She hissed and brought her free hand up to shield her eyes, inwardly cursing the sudden brightness.  Huffing, and still squinting, she reached back to close the door behind her before she began her journey down the hall, eyes slowly adjusting to the light.  Kyle wasn't quite sure as to where she was going yet, and let her feet carry her instead of trying to determine some destination.  Things would work out.

The first year ended up in the music section of the main building.  Being a sculpting major, she wasn't familiar with this wing of the school, having never bothered to venture down this way before.  She walked past rooms filled with all sorts of things music-related, but nothing really caught her eye.  They were all brass instruments, or pianos, or metronomes.  Simple things.  Things that couldn't be taken apart as much as Kyle would've liked (well, minus the piano, but she wasn't going to go messing with something so expensive).

As she neared the end of one of the halls, she caught wind of... something.  Frowning slightly, she lugged her metal box of tools towards where the sound was coming from.  As she got closer, she realized what she was hearing was a guitar.  Some unfamiliar song was being played, but it sounded pretty intense, and intimidating to some extent.  The door to the classroom where the music was coming from had been left open just a crack, as if it were inviting the curious to poke their noses in.  Well, Kyle did just that, peeking through the hole to see a rather tall looking (well, okay, almost everyone was tall by her standards) girl jamming out on her instrument.  She was getting really into it, head-banging and mouthing the words and the whole bit.  It was... interesting to watch.  Having been more a fan of more alternative, and indie-folk music, this wasn't really something she was used to seeing in live performances.  Then again, most of her favourite artists were pianists, and it was probably hard to swing one's head that vigorously while playing the piano.

Slowly, the song came to a close, and the girl's head-banging changed pace with it.  Didn't it hurt, to jerk your head back and forth like that?  It looked kind of uncomfortable at the very least.  Curious to see what would happen now, Kyle pressed her face closer to the crack, bracing her hands against the door for support.  Since it was open, though, the wood swung forward instead of providing stability, and the first year crashed to the floor, letting out a yelp of surprise.  She brought her toolbox down with her, the heavy metal thing making quite the racket against the tiled floor.

So much for just watching.

Scrambling to her feet and rubbing her chin, Kyle didn't dare to look the other student in the eye.  "A-Aa'm sorry, d-didne mean to disturb ye..."  She mumbled, her thick, Scottish accent just as strong as ever.  She stood stock still, head bowed, waiting for the bigger girl to yell at her at the very least.

The clattering bang of metal on tile jolted her from her focus. Twisting about sharply she sees a smaller much younger girl. Hearing her apology Mikoto bursts out laughing. Wiping her eye she she catches her breath and pushes her hair out of her face. "No no, don't apologize. We're both students here. I was just getting in some free practice..." she said taking up her bandanna and putting it back on her head.

Smoothing out her hair she chuckles again before turning to completely face the new girl. "Well, you're welcome to come in and listen while I practice if you like," she said picking off a few chords quickly not really looking over at the girl. "My names Ono by the way. Third year... what about you?"

She'd already begun picking at the chords for another song by the same band. It was a rather interesting task of making the guitar sound like a lute or other stringed instrument of the renaissance period and earlier. And while this section of the song wasn't too long she repeated it as it was likely the softest part of the song. If the younger girl, who judging by her size if that was an accurate measure of edge was not much older than a second year, wanted to talk. 

Though suddenly she stopped turned off her amp and walked towards the younger girl stopping just a bit away. Grabbing a couple of chairs he puts one closer to the young girl and straddles another with the back facing her chest. Trying to adjust her guitar into a comfortable position. Failing at this she slips her strap over her head and leans the instrument against another chair. Smiling at the young girl she tries to be as welcoming as she can.

The girl was laughing.  Kyle wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, since she had encountered people who laughed before beating someone up.  Admittedly, they were less common, but it took all types to make a world.  The first year remained rigid, avoiding eye contact at all costs, and it wasn't until the other girl started talking that she began to relax.  She was in the clear.  Well, for now anyway.  Letting out the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, Kyle decided it was safe enough to straighten her posture.  She rolled her shoulders back and brought her head up, watching as the guitarist retied her yellow headband.  Must've come off during all that head-banging, she reckoned.

Agh, no, not an invitation... She grumbled in her head when the other girl said she didn't mind the company.  But after party-crashing, Kyle couldn't bring herself to leave, no matter how much she wanted to.  She didn't want to be any ruder than she already had been (not that losing interest in a conversation and drowning it out was any better, but still).  Anyway, the deal was sealed when the other kid introduced herself as Ono.  The name made the shorter girl's brow furrow a little.  What kind of a name was that?  Oh wait, wait, it was probably a last name.  The lessons about Japanese etiquette were starting to come back to the first year a little.  Right, right, reverse the order of the names, she thought.  Didn't make "Ono" any less strange sounding, though... But she supposed her own name sounded just as weird to Ono.

"Aa'm Kyle, Kyle Buchanan.  First year... Aa'm into sculptin'. Mechanical sculptin', if ye want to be specific."  She replied, blue eyes trained on the older girl's fingers as they moved up and down the guitar strings once more.  But they stopped just as soon as they had started, and Kyle wasn't quite sure what was going on when Ono turned off the amp without warning.  The minute she dragged the chairs over, though, she started to get an idea.  They were going to hold a conversation.  Oh boy, this would be... erm, what was the word for it again?  Kyle couldn't remember.  Ah well.

Taking a seat on the chair that had been offered to her, she sat down in the typical position.  While Ono fiddled with finding a comfortable position, Kyle reached back to grab her tool box, dragging the heavy thing over to rest beside her.  With the lack of light, she couldn't tell whether the yellow paint had been scratched or not.  It didn't help that the thing already had all sorts of marks and dings in it.  It definitely got around.  Focusing her attention back to the black haired girl across from her, noting that she had finally gotten settled.

"So... that was a braw... er, I mean good, ye were playin'."  Kyle began.  She managed to catch her use of slang, and corrected it after a moment's thought, knowing that Ono probably wouldn't know what she was saying otherwise.  She fidgeted with her hands in her lap, desperately wishing she had something, anything, to take apart right now.  Why were conversations so hard to start up?  "What's th' name of it?"

"The song?" she asked questioned having to think about it for a second, "Its 'Dante's Inferno' by Iced Earth." She looked at the younger girl and smiled. Resting her chin on her hands she tilts her head to one side. "So, you're a mechanical sculpter and a first year huh? Do you like it here?"

She was genuinely interested in what this mousey first year had to say. She'd introduced herself as Kyle Buchanan. An interesting name. Then again she couldn't expect a westerner to have an asian name could she? No not really. Though with the rising popularity of anime and games in the western world it wasn't too much to assume that she might eventually run across someone named Kasumi or something that wasn't asian. 

Still Kyle seemed to be a bit nervous. Social anxiety? Was that a thing? She didn't know. She was a guitarist and an athlete. Her knowledge on mental and social disorders was limited to random internet articles and the occasional mention of it on television. 

"Your accent is very lovely where are you from originally?" she asked suddenly seeming to blurt it out. Blushing a bit she apologizes, "I'm sorry, that was very rude. Don't answer if you don't want to."

Dante's Inferno... Kyle debated on remembering that or not. The genre of the song Ono had been playing before hadn't really suited her tastes, and the first year doubted she'd ever go back and listen to it. Still, she nodded just to be polite, but there was no smile tugging at the corners of her lips.  Her deadpan expression was soon replaced by a slight frown, however, as she thought about the question the other girl had asked.

"I... I guess I like it here."  She began.  "It's a lot nicer than the school I would have ended up goin' to, an' I can mess with what I want without gettin' into too much trouble... It's a bit far from home, though, and there are a lot of people here."  A lot of people she wasn't used to.  It didn't help that Kyle had only arrived shortly before the start of the term, and having been very much (probably overly) attached to her family, being away from them was difficult.  She felt just the slightest bit lost, even, although there was no way she was ever going to admit that.

Kyle wasn't really expecting the question about her nationality, or the compliment about her accent.  Did it really sound that nice?  Everyone at home spoke like that, although there were some differences from one region of the country to the other.  Personally, she thought her voice wasn't all too great sounding, but apparently the third year across from her didn't mind it.

"No, no, it's not rude at all, I don't mind.  I'm from Grangemouth, Scotland."  She said.  "It's kinda well know for it's... ermm..."  Oh, what was that word again?!  Kyle swore it was on the tip of her tongue.  Huffing in frustration, she rubbed two of her fingers against her temple, trying to recall what the town was known for.  In the past, it had been something to do with boats, but now... What was it now?

"Uhm... It's like... those... things..."  She started again, outlining squares in the air with her index fingers.  Oh boy, was this ever embarrassing.  She had managed to hold out for so long, but no, she had to mess up somewhere.  "They're like... really big buildings, an' they've got these cylinders on top that blow out smoke an' stuff.  I think... I think it has somethin' to do with... oil?"  Yes, that sounded right.  Something to do with oil.  If only she could remember what.  Huffing again, she furrowed her brow, covering her hand with her mouth as she wracked her brain for the missing word.  The word in question was refinery, but it wasn't something that came up in day-to-day conversation, so it wasn't something that came to mind easily.

Mikoto watched as the younger girl pantomimed the words as she struggled to remember the word. This caused Mikoto to smile a bit as she too was drawn into the 'Whats the word?' game. Pursing her lips he leans back while gripping the back of the chair as she thinks about what she knew of the UK and Scottland. Admittedly she knew very little. Though considering what she knew of industry, also very little, she began running through the words she could remember.

Beginning to tap her fingers in a random rhythm she thinks along with the bit. Factory? Maybe. Ship Yard? No, those were large and rarely from the pictures she'd seen had large funnels. Refinery? That could be it. She'd lose nothing by venturing that guess she supposed.

"Refinery?" she asked as she sat forward. Smiling as she looked at the younger girl. "Factory maybe? Does your town have a shipyard maybe?" She asked continuing to smile at the younger girl. The girl across from her was very pretty even at her young age. Given time she'd likely become far more pretty. Though that depended on the girls own personality and if she cared to maintain her appearance.

It was partly the reason why Mikoto did Judo. It kept her fit. Not that it mattered. She didn't really like anyone but she enjoyed being thin and in shape.  

Well, the older girl wasn't making fun of her yet, so that was nice.  What was even better was that Ono seemed to be trying to help find the missing word, something that Kyle appreciated very much.  People typically sat out on the sidelines when she was playing the guessing game, which was a bit frustrating since she could hardly ever recall what she was trying to say.  Having an extra brain certainly helped, and even if the third year didn't know much about Scotland, it was still better than nothing.

Kyle's eyes lit up at Ono's first suggestion.  "Yeah, we have a refinery!"  She confirmed quickly, quite pleased that they had solved the puzzle.  "Grangemouth used to have a pretty big port too, but it's not in use as much as it was."  She added, mention of a shipyard reminding her of the old docks on the one side of town.  She hadn't ever gone down there much, but they were pretty hard to miss from certain places in the city.  Everyone had seen them at least once.

Now that the search had died down, Kyle wasn't really sure what to talk about.  She didn't have much practice at starting conversations, and ended up fidgeting with her fingers instead of speaking.  Her mind started to wander elsewhere, back to her computer.  Was it done updating yet?  No, probably not... The timer had doled out a pretty big number, and while those were typically unreliable, the amount of time usually went up, not down.  Still, it wouldn't hurt to check.  Or maybe there was something in this room that she could mess with.  Not anything big or expensive, of course, like a piano or guitar, but something small.  Something the students could live without on the off chance she screwed it up.

Casting a quick glance around, Kyle realized that nothing fit that criteria.  Everything looked pretty darn important, except for the chairs, and those didn't really count.  Well that sucked.  Furrowing her brow in a slight pout, she tried to determine which room might have something to tinker with.  She came up with nothing.  At this point, her attention was far from focused on Ono.

Mikoto could tell the younger girl was bored. Likely wanted to leave and all that. She had forced this small conversation so it would be rude to make her stay any longer than she was willing to. So she'd cut the younger some slack. Standing she takes up her guitar and slips the strap over her shoulder and around her neck.

"Hey, you're probably good at fixing things right?" she didn't wait for a response before continuing, "If I ever find a beaten up old guitar can I ask you to fix it for me?" Picking at her guitar strings absently she heads back towards the amp to flick it on and pluck off a few strings.

Turning back to the younger girl she smiles, "You're welcome to stay and listen if you like and I'm sorry for keeping you for so long." Her apology was genuine even if the smile made it seem like it wasn't. Such a strange lot this school harbored. Students from around the globe came for one thing or another. No boys just girls. That had stood out a lot when she had been a first year. Not that it mattered much.

Movement out of the corner of her eye distracted Kyle from her thoughts, bringing her back to earth so to speak.  She glanced over, watching as Ono picked up her guitar once more.  She didn't know if that was an indication to leave or an invitation to stay and hear another song.  She wasn't sure which sounded more inviting.  Probably the former.  She stopped thinking about it when Ono started talking again.  Fixing a guitar?  That sounded like a challenge.

"I... I probably could, if ye gave me pictures of what it was s'posed tae look like."  Kyle nodded slowly, thinking.  Diagrams and manuals wouldn't do much good.  The words tended to jump around, and she doubted she'd understand them fully even if someone were to read them aloud.  No, it would have to be images.  Lots of them, with all the inner and outer workings.  It would be a challenge, and she looked forward to it.  Ono, on the other hand, might not appreciate someone without any experience whatsoever messing around with a precious guitar.  Some heads up was in order, Kyle decided.  "I've never so much as touched an instrument afair, so it'd be touch an' go, but I'd jump on it in a heartbeat nonetheless."

Then she was posed with the same question from before.  Stay or go, stay or go... She wasn't quite sure what to do.  Kyle was pretty certain that wandering around the room looking for something to muck around with wasn't generally something people appreciated their audience doing, but she didn't know if she could sit through an entire song... Then again, she had gotten through the first one just fine.  Maybe she'd sit and listen.  Just one more song.  It couldn't hurt, right?  Unless Ono was trying to get rid of her, but the third year didn't seem like that kind of person.

"If you don't mind me stayin', I'll stay."

Mikoto smiled hearing the younger girl express interest in fixing up a battered old guitar. Should she ever find one regardless of what it was she'd bring it to Kyle and have her give it a look. Now the task came in finding a beaten up old guitar. She did walk to and from school due to the location of her home. Perhaps if she kept her eyes peeled she'd spot one on trash day. 

Smiling at the younger girl as she turned on the amp she replies, "Please do stay. I love when I have an audience!" She did. It was weird with her. Something about the eyes of others looking upon her and placing a value to her talents and skills felt awesome. So even just one person sitting there listening to her play made her feel good.

Plucking out the opening of the song she closes her eyes. It was a slow repeat of approximately four or five notes. This continued for about thirty or so seconds. Then it shifted into a darker more malevolent tone. Every so often it had two beat rests and built into a quickly played advance. If one closed their eyes perhaps they could imagine the march of men to war. All beneath their feet being churned and agitated by their thousands of feet.

((OOC: She'lll continue this song in my next post))

So she wasn't being a nuisance to the other girl.  Thank goodness for that.  Maybe life at Fukui wouldn't be so bad after all, Kyle reckoned.  Seemed like she had gotten off on the right foot for once, which was always a good start.  So she shifted in her chair a little to get comfortable, fidgeting with her fingers as she listened to the opening of the song.  The movement of Ono's fingers caught her attention right off the bat, and she watched them intently.  There was something about the nimble, yet smooth way they flowed across the frets, pressing down string after string.  It was pretty amazing, Kyle mused, that the third year could do that without looking.  She, for one, always had to see what she was fiddling with, otherwise something terrible would always happen.  This applied to everything, really; even when typing on a computer, she always found herself looking down at the keys unless she was really into what she was doing.

Despite the fact that the song wasn't really what Kyle would listen to on a day-to-day basis, she still found herself nodding her head to the rhythm.  It was ominous-sounding, but also kinda catchy, in a dark kind of way.  It sounded almost like the music that played during the start of a battle in a video game, when you were marching up to the final boss.  Not that she really played video games, but she knew enough of them to know the music.  All in all, it was pretty darn cool, although her eyes were still fixed on Mikoto's fingers.

This song was distinctly different than the one previously played. And while her band mates didn't enjoy playing metal she did. It helped her train.

The song picked up from its marching beat to a two beat measure with a level and even tone. Had she a vocalist to accompany her this would be where they'd be singing or growling out the words rather. Had she a drummer they'd be playing the beat and she could focus on the fancy guitar finger work that this song featured in some places. A short staccato of three notes made the feeling of doom or a building of anticipation. That was only a short shift from the usual pacing. That itself only lasted a very short time before moving forward into a four note bounce.

She'd slipped back into her lowered head down bobbing. Her eyes were closed as she played her song. The song was an old one in the metal genre. Not as old as Lead Zeppelin or Black Sabbath but for its sub genre it was one of the founders. Bathory as the band was known was named after one of the first known serial killers Elizabeth Bathory.

The song had a means of building anticipation. But that was how Bathory songs went. They made you anxious to know the end of the epic tales. This one sang of battle and conquest. Her fingers played out the rising notes like it was the highest part of the battle being waged in the song. These did not last long.

((Shall finish the song next post))