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Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2013 22:52:27 GMT -8
WE'LL BE FREE TO LIVE OUR LIVES , and one day we'll look back with no regrets The banks of the Thames, João decided, could be likened to the streets of Lisbon during a busy lunch hour. It wasn't even midday and the area was chock full of people, which was making finding the guy he was supposed to be looking for quite a task. It should have been perfectly easy to find an oddball shouting at people and challenging him to a duel, but in such a crowded place? The fame of the scene meant that it had been easy enough for him to find, but after passing that hurdle it was now just proving to be a hindrance.
He leant against the railing overlooking the river, the London Eye a great looming figure in his peripheral vision, and read the note he'd taken from the Guildhall over again. He had everything he needed on him: his guitar, in its case, and a pair of gloves (not optional, the note had specified) tucked in the pocket of his jacket... He was perfectly ready to do what needed to be done, if he could just find the guy!
After pocketing the paper again, he used the railing as a guide to head further down towards the wheel. In doing this, he seemed to have gained a stroke of luck, as over the usual hustle and bustle noise of the people around, he could hear a distinctly male voice shouting erratically...
And, lo and behold, the railing lead him to a vast gap in the crowd. Before he could pass any mental judgement a shrill young voice passed by, “Mummy, Mummy, why does that man keep shouting?”
“Never you mind, dear.” Was the brusque reply, before both voices were lost amongst the flow of people.
Well, João was quite sure he'd managed to find who he was looking for, after all. tagged , Misso/NPC words , 303 notes , lyrics from 1000 oceans by tokio hotel credits , post template by vitriol of on the edge. |
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Post by Misso Pan on Jun 16, 2013 9:09:13 GMT -8
Mod Post - Edwyn Von Halen The erratic, seemingly crazy man was known in these parts by many times. Lord of the Dance, Banjomaster, He-With-The-Iron-Beard. To those that knew him personally, however, he was known simply as Edwyn Von Halen, terror of the boardwalk and pirate of hopes and dreams. He claimed to once have been part of a literal barbershop quartet (to hear him tell it, they sang whilst they cut hair,) and his specialty was the shaving of beards. His quartet seemingly vanished one day as they went their separate ways, and Von Halen was left alone to bask in the fading light of his glory days, sailing the seven seas giving men and women everywhere the hair day they desired and deserved. "Mummy, mummy," cried a child from the dispersing crowd around the man. "Why does he keep shouting like that?" An inquiry! "Why, I am looking for the ultimate challenger!" Edwyn stated, waving around a case that could have held either a rifle or string instrument. "I need a man or woman who can best me in combat!" The mention of combat drove more people to fear, and those who called the police were met with shrugs by officers who could find nothing wrong with his antics. His guns were antiques and unloaded (though this was because Edwyn never loaded them until before a battle was confirmed,) and there was never any indication that they'd been fired for some time. Not only that, but Edwyn had been a resident of the boardwalk for months prior to that point. He was a harmless man who was simply looking for someone to play music with. He was just a very frightening roleplayer. "I require a challenger to return me back to the glory of battle!" Edwyn declared again. "May those of significant musical prowess enlighten me with you skill! It would be my honor to satisfy you!"
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Post by Deleted on Jun 21, 2013 1:05:28 GMT -8
WE'LL BE FREE TO LIVE OUR LIVES , and one day we'll look back with no regrets João... Really didn't know what to think of this man.
“I require a challenger to return me back to the glory of battle! May those of significant musical prowess enlighten me with your skill! It would be my honour to satisfy you!”
Well, he certainly fit the description from the Guildhall's bill. Near the London Eye? Check. Yelling at passers-by, demanding a duel? Check. Said passers-by seemingly wary of him? Check. Although the yelling was rather off-putting, he supposed, João didn't think the man was all that much to be afraid of, if indeed he was completely unarmed and just wanted to duel with his instrument. He was just an overly zealous street performer or something, right?
João stepped forwards into the small area cleared of people around the man. He cleared his throat, pondering for a moment on how exactly to initiate the conversation... The bill had said that he needed a glove to, well, slap him across the face with... Ah, but, was that really necessary? He frowned at the thought... It probably wouldn't have hurt, but all the same, João didn't like to be violent in any way, if there was the possibility he could avoid it.
“Ah... Pardon me, sir?” He began. He coughed again; his voice hadn't been loud enough. “Pardon me, sir?” He repeated again, raising the volume. “I believe you are looking for someone to duel with, yes?” He gripped his fingers around the handle of his guitar case, lifting it up so as to show it to the man. “If it is alright with you, I would like to try.” A small smile crossed his lips. He added, in case the man was at all sceptical, “I have been playing since I was a boy. I am not a novice, I assure you.” tagged , Misso/NPC words , 301 notes , lyrics from 1000 oceans by tokio hotel credits , post template by vitriol of on the edge. |
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Post by Misso Pan on Jul 17, 2013 16:16:43 GMT -8
Mod Post - Edwyn Von Halen “Ah… pardon me, sir?” Edwyn was much too busy yelling at an old woman as she passed by. She raised her purse as if to hit the man, when Edwyn heard a second request for attention. Edwyn whirled around to meet the inquirer’s face. There was a certain air to this man as he stood before the eccentric performer of unknown ethnic origin. Very obviously foreign, given the unfamiliar accent, but despite the manner in which his hair was kept, and the intimidating scar that ran down his face, this was obviously a gentleman of high caliber and honor! At that moment, the fair old lady’s purse came in contact with the top of Edwyn’s head, knocking his antique feathered hat to the ground. Instantly Edwyn was down, berating the old woman as she walked away while brushing the dirt and grime from the hat. With this task complete he returned the hat to its home on his head, and returned João’s interest with a smirk. “I believe you are looking for someone to duel with, yes?” João continued, lifting his case up within Edwyn’s peripheral, inciting a squeal of delight to escape the older man. “If it is alright with you, I would like to try.” “I’m sure your instrument is lovely, but alas I am only looking for challenges.” Edwyn, though quite pleased someone was willing to take him up on his often, feared João’s manners were unfit to challenge one such as he. One does not simply ask to play! That would be like trying to simply walk into Mordor. Indeed, Edwyn was skeptical. “I have been playing since I was a boy. I am not a novice, I assure you.” “Yes, yes. I am sure. But I am only looking to be challenged. This is not a casual day out where I play for money! No, no, I’m looking for talent! Adventure! Risks!” Edwyn’s volume steadily got louder until it seemed as if he was screaming to the Heavens and indeed, the way he raised his arms up to the skies suggested he was doing just that.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 23, 2013 0:15:15 GMT -8
WE'LL BE FREE TO LIVE OUR LIVES , and one day we'll look back with no regrets This, normally, might well have been a good time for João to have slipped back into the crowd without saying anything more. He watched the man brush off the dirt from his hat and return it to his head, after having witnessed the old woman bat it off with a swing of her purse (something João had to try very hard to keep a straight face at). Then, he listened to the reply he was given.
Talent, adventure, risks... All screamed very loudly, and João couldn't help but feel like he was now being stared at equally as much as the strange man was. Oh, of course, he was used to attention, somewhat; he wouldn't have even considered taking the bill from the Guildhall in the first place if he hadn't been, but the stares from passers-by were so judgemental and... Oh God, what if they thought he was crazy for even talking to the man? What if someone from the media was around and recognised him and--
João took a deep breath in through his nose. This was no time to get paranoid... Right. Talent. Adventure. Risks. He'd done it all before. Regardless of his now political status, those which the man was looking for were things that should have been perfectly natural to him... And, he had those gloves for a reason, after all. 'Glove not optional. You have to slap him with it', the bill read... Ah, but was that really alright? He dug into his pocket for one of the gloves. Hm... A light tap would suffice, surely? It wasn't like it was a blunt object and would hurt the man at all.
“I see... In which case...” He began. His arm stretched, he flicked the wrist of the hand holding the glove and slapped the man's face with it. “I challenge you to a duel.” tagged , Misso/NPC words , 314 notes , lyrics from 1000 oceans by tokio hotel credits , post template by vitriol of on the edge. |
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Post by Misso Pan on Aug 1, 2013 19:39:31 GMT -8
Mod Post - Edwyn Von Halen “I challenge you to a duel.”Before Edwyn could respond with words, the glove came in contact with the weathered skin of his cheek. There was an eerie silence from the people around them, but only for a moment. Not willing to stand around and see what kind of damage the dormant volcano could inflict upon the area, many were eager to leave as soon as the glove flew through the air. Whatever Edwyn was doing was instantly dropped. There was no anger, no irritation. There was simply awe and amazement plastered upon his face. Had what just happened been real? Could it have been? He stared at João for a couple of moments before a wide smile spread across his bearded face. "Well, well..." he began, "You do know proper dueling etiquette." The simple act of using a glove was a wonderful first impression. The fact João thought to do it made Edwyn like the man instantly. Edwin took the moment to bow politely and then took his banjo up into his hands. "I accept your challenge, young man." Edwyn turned on his toes and headed over to a circle drawn with chalk. He didn't actually draw it. He had commandeered it from a child who had done the deed earlier... and not before they left. He quite literally conquered the circle and drove the little girl away. This spawned one of the first reports of him to the local authorities - who unfortunately did nothing at the time. "The challenge is music, which you seem to have already figured out." Edwyn turned dramatically to face João and adjusted his hat with his free hand. "How good are you at playing by ear, good sir?" Edwyn liked to imagine he was quite talented in that particular field.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 12, 2013 14:14:51 GMT -8
WE'LL BE FREE TO LIVE OUR LIVES , and one day we'll look back with no regrets For a second, the fear set in. João was concerned that even a tap with the glove as light as that had hurt... But the man didn't react that way. Instead he seemed... Shocked? But not particularly in an offended way... Oh hell, was João relieved that he wasn't angry. In fact, the man was now smiling, and accepting his challenge.
Pocketing the glove again, João released the breath he'd been holding in the meantime. He watched Edwyn head towards a chalk-drawn circle, before he himself leant down towards the ground, placing his guitar case down and unlocking it, before lifting the lid. His guitar was nothing special to anyone familiar with a Portuguese guitar's shape – were someone to assume that it resembled a typical acoustic guitar, they'd have been wrong; even the shape of its case was enough to show that. Rather, it was like a large, more rounded mandolin, made of a yellowy spruce wood. Years of use had left the original shine it had from its varnish dulled, but João took great care in assuring it was always in a good condition. He'd just gotten new strings recently; he'd spent hours replacing and tuning all twelve of them until they were just perfect.
“I can play by ear easily.” He replied, to the man's question, as he closed the case and rose to his feet again. Actually, it had been a long time since he'd played by ear – most of what he played was by heart, but originally learnt from sheet music. Still, he felt quite confident that he could manage; either way, he wasn't exactly going to admit to being rusty in that department. He smiled, but it was a little on the strained side. “As I said, I have been playing since I was very young.” tagged , Misso/NPC words , 303 notes , lyrics from 1000 oceans by tokio hotel credits , post template by vitriol of on the edge. |
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Post by Misso Pan on Oct 2, 2013 14:40:29 GMT -8
Mod Post - Edwyn Von Halen Perhaps the revealing of the man’s items to be musical instruments intrigued those who once feared him. Regardless of who was involved. Regardless, there was a small crowd forming, overhearing their words (particularly Edwyns, which are at least thrice as loud as João’s,) and though the numbers were not impressive, this handful of people gathering would surely provide the players with encouragement and perhaps tips from the unwary. Edwyn stood opposite of João, holding securely in his hands his precious instrument, with figures delicately pressed to the strings. All of them were tuned perfectly with Edwyn’s keen ears and in his mind, there was none alive who could best him, except for maybe this young man who stood before him. “Are you ready?” Edwyn inquired. “Let’s begin!” And he began to play. This was no published tune, but there was a chance Edwyn had written it himself, given how flawlessly he played what seemed initially to be entirely improvised. Only by listening and watching his hands as they adjusted pitch and note could João hope to beat him now…
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Post by Deleted on Oct 4, 2013 19:05:24 GMT -8
WE'LL BE FREE TO LIVE OUR LIVES , and one day we'll look back with no regrets This was fascinating... João had to try hard not to stand there with his mouth gaping open. The tune that Edwyn was playing must have been one the man had composed himself; João couldn't recognise it at all, so it was either that or a song he'd never heard before – the former more than likely. Either way, he had to listen particularly carefully, otherwise he'd mess this up before he'd have even started.
With his own instrument in position, João inhaled a deep breath through his nose, letting the sequence of notes sink in – not just by ear, but visually, as well. He had to memorise them; one note just a little too sharp or a little too flat and no doubt this strange man he was 'duelling' would notice...
And then – then it was his turn. He could feel all the eyes around on him as Edwyn's banjo fell silent. It was like, in those few split seconds, time had slowed considerably. Only now was João – put on the spot – realising that such a crowd was about... He felt a small bead of sweat on his forehead, all of a sudden; instinctively, he would have wiped this off at any other time, but right now, he was too in the zone to do so... This was no time for shyness... He only hoped that people, if they were aware of what was happening, would know that a Portuguese guitar sounded quite different from a banjo.
The sounds of the guitar itself were not what mattered, though – as long as he kept the notes perfect.
He began to pluck at the strings, quickly, his fingers flowing and dancing across the instrument and mimicking what the man opposite him had just played – as best as he could remember, notes and tempo and timbre and all. The plucking turned to strumming, and then back to plucking again, one chord after another. tagged , Misso/NPC words , 326 notes , lyrics from 1000 oceans by tokio hotel credits , post template by vitriol of on the edge. |
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Post by Misso Pan on Nov 9, 2013 11:52:14 GMT -8
Mod Post - Edwyn Von Halen Edwyn viewed and admired the way João's fingers flew so expertly across the strings, the way they plucked and strummed and changed key and chord on the turn of a dime. He didn't mind the blaring inaccuracies. They were few, far between, and for a man who was simply playing by ear a song he'd never heard before, they could be overlooked completely. Edwyn was very much impressed with the skills and efforts of the Portuguese man, and subconsciously twisted at the hairs of his mustache in piqued interest. When João was finished playing his round, Edwyn gently held the banjo in his arms - cradling it, almost as if it were a child - and clapped his hands joyously. The crowd followed his lead and clapped for him also, but the errors in João's playing supposedly were supposed to mean loss or failure. "I must say, you've done a great deal better than anyone else I have faced in combat! You were not lying, sir, you are well-practiced in this art." Edwyn moved forward to inspect João's instrument as it lay against his body. "This is a beautiful instrument. You take good care of it, it sounds wonderful!" Edwyn grinned at João and then held his banjo back up. "Ready for round two?" After a moment of waiting for a response, Edwyn pressed his fingers into the strings of his banjo and once again began to play an unfamiliar tune. "I call this one A Ride at Dawn," Edwyn stated as he played, "I composed it for my wife years ago." He showed no trace of corresponding emotion to suggest her current status.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 20, 2013 5:29:23 GMT -8
WE'LL BE FREE TO LIVE OUR LIVES , and one day we'll look back with no regrets When he'd finished the piece, João winced ever so slightly. Only then did he dare wonder if he'd done it properly or not – but judging from the fact that Edwyn was clapping, he figured that was so. He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Ah... Thank you.” He responded, in a tone that was just a little louder than a mutter. He was both flattered and quite abashed, because now he was back out of the zone he got into whenever he played, the fact that there were people around with eyes – and, more specifically, ears – made his timidness act up again... Though, it wasn't really down to the fact that he was self-conscious about himself, in this case. It was more the fact that he was playing along with this 'duel', which must have seemed incredibly odd to the average passer-by. But, at the end of the day, he'd signed himself up to this... And he wasn't planning on backing out any time soon, either.
When Edwyn asked if he was ready, he responded with a light nod. And then, he opened his ears once again. Were he not trying to focus on the chords that Edwyn was playing once again, he might have asked about the song, or, rather, about his wife that it had been composed for. But, of course, this wasn't the time for idle chit-chat of that variety. João shared in his sentiments, at least – he'd created more pieces of music for the women he'd met through the different stages of his life than he could count, though there were less than ten he could think of that really stood out in his memory, for whatever reason.
Once Edwyn had finished this next song, it was his turn again. He plucked at the strings, once again repeating the song with the most accuracy he could possibly recall. tagged , Misso/NPC words , 315 notes , lyrics from 1000 oceans by tokio hotel credits , post template by vitriol of on the edge. |
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Post by Misso Pan on Dec 14, 2013 15:16:24 GMT -8
Edwyn Von Halen Hearing someone else playing this little tune seemed to have a bit of an effect on the older gentleman, who shed the smallest of tears as he listened to the roughly played chords. He expected as much, this song would not play exceptionally well in the hands of a man who had never heard it, but his wonder was still there, marveling at this still-beautiful rendition. It sounded a little odd from the instrument he was unaccustomed to playing.
He clapped as João finished the ritardando and decrescendo in the song's final chords and if one looked close enough they could see the small tears seeping into the greying brown of the man's beard. "Beautiful. Simply beautiful. You did well."
Edwyn held his guitar back in place and almost began to play, but he stopped, paused, and looked back up at João. "Let's get a song from you, instead."
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Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2014 23:42:20 GMT -8
WE'LL BE FREE TO LIVE OUR LIVES , and one day we'll look back with no regrets João's grip on his guitar became a little more lax. He was... Somewhat surprised at the proposal – and to a lesser extent, surprised at the fact that he'd managed to move the man to tears, apparently. “You... Want me to play a song...?” His eyebrows raised a little. Wasn't the point of the duel that he play Edwyn's songs? “Ah... Not that it is any trouble!” He added, rather quickly, lest the older man suddenly come to the conclusion that João didn't actually write any of his own music at all... Having said that, there were many songs he'd written, and he had to take a moment to pluck one out of his mind.
He decided on one that had been completed, and hadn't been just scrawled down on the back of a napkin for lack of a better medium at the time. It was a very particular song that João happened to think about rather often, in spite of the fact it had been almost a decade since he had written it. But it didn't just stand out because it had been finished; Edwyn had shown him the song he had written for his wife, and João felt honoured by this, but also, somewhat indebted... The piece he had in his own mind was for a particular past love, and sharing it would only be fair. “There is one in particular I would like to play. If it is of any interest to you, I composed it whilst travelling in South-Eastern Asia.” He started to pluck at the strings once again, reminding himself of the origins of the tune – images of the white, sandy beaches, azure seas and endless sunshine forming in his mind and giving him a sense of nostalgia – of longing – to return to that time and place. tagged , Misso/NPC words , 301 notes , lyrics from 1000 oceans by tokio hotel credits , post template by vitriol of on the edge. |
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