evening air (open)

[nerina aurora zappa]

Nerina had no need to be sitting on a small stool in one of the infinite number of side streets of Rome with a cello between her legs and a cap in front of her. She had enough money than she could spend even and yet she was playing, had been for the last hour, on a street with people having dinners outside with the heat lamps around, others just walking around. She liked doing this every now and then, just for the atmosphere if nothing else. She had an account in the bank where this money and some extra went, later used for a bursary to finance someone's life through music lessons, or university. She wasn't a charitable person really, but she liked music and why not help someone get to it, make it accessible in a place that would normally be out of the person's reach. they never knew who the money was from and she intended on keeping it that way. It was her little secret if you will. Tonight, she had some fifty euros in the cap; people weren't feeling especially generous. Now fifty euros wasn't too bad, but given the number of people that had passed this street it was nothing. She's picked the one outside a well known pizza place on purpose, knowing the side streets of Rome as a palm of her own hand. Spending summer's here was enough for Ner to memorise the quickest routes, the best place for coffee and other similar little things of interest.

She liked how Rome looked early in the evening when the sun was coming down and it got a little colder. She always liked strange random things and this was one of them. She smiled at the people watching her briefly before closing her eyes and doing what she did most of the time - listen to what she was playing and either imagine things or remember them, depending on which happened first. Now she was simply thinking about what she was gonna do later tonight. It was a Thursday, but she had no classes to go to tomorrow, so tonight was one of those ideal nights for going out. She'd just have to figure out who to go out with since she hasn't made any plans with anyone. She didn't like making plans, because people only tended to go back on any plans they've made, finding silly excuses not to do what was planned. And so she stopped planning years ago and always just grabbed someone with her or arranged some place to meet up with other people that were going out and it worked alright most of the time. Besides she had no issues going out alone anyway, always someone interesting and new to meet. She finished her song abruptly, heard a silent few claps from people and stood up, starting to pack her things.

[remy labeau]

Remy LaBeau
you got me all wrong
got me all wrong
i'm the kind of guy you aint ever seen before
if you want to hit the floor, are you ready for more

Remy enjoyed to go out on week nights. Only because when it wasn't a week night, and a weekend, there was too many people. Too much noise for him. Remy's sensitive bat ears hated the awful noise of people. In fact, most of the time, it was the people making all the noises. And it was worst that there was a bunch of college students that were nearby, since there was a college not far from here. Rome was a pretty big city, but Remy was use to big cities and towns. Growing up in New Orleans in the United States did that to one person. Perhaps that was one of the many reasons he hated loud noises. In fact, he would rather sit on the roof of the apartments in which he lived, looking at the stars with the silence as his company then go to any rock concert. He hated that music, the loud banging that blew through the speakers of a place. Which was kind of ironic at the fact that he worked at a bar with that. The only reason he had the job that he did, was the simple fact that when he first moved here, with little education, not finished high school with little to no money, it was the only job he could find that payed the most. The cleaning boy of any bar was an awful job, considering all the fat slugs that spent twenty-four hours there. But, like any job, he grew in ranking, learning little by little how to make things and how people liked them. For about five years he had been doing this, and now he was a bartender at the bar. With that, it gave him a different perspective on how people could be. A lot of people said that the average person was a selfish being, just as nature had it, but after listening to some stories, as they were always capable of telling the bartender what happened, Remy people the reason was that the people surrounding them were just the same.

But if he hated people and college students so much, why did he live in this part of Rome? Why, it was simple. When you have students, both poor and rich, that are trying to afford the college payments of everything put down on them, most of them wanted to find a place that was cheap enough to live around. Sure, as Remy had heard, there were dorms and such, but who would want to be in a dorm? What kind of freedom would you have there? With your own place, you could do pretty much anything you wanted, so a lot of rich people had both a dorm and an apartment around there. But on prices, Remy found the perfect appartment for him and any girl that he decides to bring home. Though his job payed well, it didn't pay that well. But a job was a job, none the less. Which was one of the three main reasons he didn't go to the college nearby. Sure, he thought about it, but three main factors kept him from going anywhere. The first was his job. He had to stay up late and tend to people, with no time for anything like studying, getting a good nights sleep, or anything during that sort. Two was because college was super expensive, especially in Rome. Money that Remy didn't have in his possesion, that he was working to get. Which ties with the first reason. Now, the third reason has kept him from even trying to find any solutions to the first two, which was the fact that he hated school. All he could remember was backstabbing drama, slaps in the face, and long lectures about something that he didn't remember the next day. Slaps in the face, obviously, from girls.

Now, Remy didn't like to think of himself as a manwhore or a perv. Manwhore and pervs were selfish pigs who treated girls like trash, would rape someone if they ever got the chance, and went to strip clubs for the sake of them getting entertiained. Hopefully, Remy wasn't that bad. Yes, he did the same general thing that the others did, but he treated them with great respect. After sex, he would't ignore them or pretend they didn't exsist, he just wouldn't date them. As for strip clubs, like Remy would pay that much money for something that happened all the time for free at the bar when a girl was drinking too much. Even then, there was nothing entertaining about it. So when a girl snapped at him for being a manwhore, it really did hurt his feelings. There were reasons for what he did, though if they were good enough or not, he wasn't quite sure.

Something interupted his rambling thoughts, and it made him stop dead in his tracks. There was a person that bout ran into him (why they were that close to him to begin with, he wasn't sure) and cursed as they went by. But all Remy could hear was the fant beautiful sound that was caught by his bat ears. Closing his eyes, he tried to identify what it was, and more importantly, where it was coming from. It sounded like a string instrument, very deep and low, but not quite the lowest. So, opening his eyes, he followed his feet to find the enchanting sound filling his ears. The closer he got, the louder and more direct it became. Ahead, his blue eyes spotted a small group of people, who seemed to find the source and listening intently. But as he was about to reach the destination, he heard a striking finish, with the few people clapping. Dang, he missed it. Then again, he didn't know how long she had been playing. She could have started earlier then this. Besides, it must be harder playing the chilled air around them, that almost being evening.

As he turned the corner to find the girl, who was putting away her stuff, he saw that not only did she make wondering music from her cello, but she was pretty. Remy, like most guys, liked pretty girls. She had dark wavy hair with dark skin and a perfect figure. It was hard to tell her eyes in this light, but they seemed darker. Remy's eyes were a strange navy in which looked dark until he looked directly at you, in which were navy blue. So he couldn't really say they were as brown as they looked in the glint of the street lights. Though she was finished with her piece, Remy could not let this talents pretty girl slip so easily through his fingers. Sure, maybe it wasn't at sex, as sometimes, he just wanted to say something to a person, but he wouldn't refuse if she offered, either. His long blond hair was pushed away from his face as he went up to her, or more to the side of her, not wanting to get in her way. His eyes flickered once toward the cap, and suddenly felt guilty. Remy didn't have any money with him, as he put it into his account so he wound't spend it on unnessasary things. Who knows how much she needed it. Maybe she was poor,trying to make some sort of living off of playing the cello, which made him feel worst. Perhaps he could help her somehow...

Noticing he was distracting himself smothering by his own guilt, he spoke in his angel sticky voice he used for speaking, making it roll off of his tounge smoothly and naturaly, soft and light, "That, cheire, was a bonne performance. Very bonne" Sometimes, it was hard to understand him, since he was Cajun. Cajun were people that had a mix of Southern American and French. So basically, a southern accient with random French words and pernounicated syllables in there. So thats what he did there, 'bonne' meaning 'good' and meaning it as an adjective. Cheire he used a bunch, his favorite word, meaning 'darling'. Needless to say, there wasn't a lot of Cajuns running around in Rome. Which was fine, since he didn't mind being original, as long as it wasn't used in a negativie effect, which happened a lot when you were out of the crowd.

[nerina aurora zappa]

Ner's friend once remarked that sitting down and playing cello for a longer period of time was more painful to her thigh muscles than having sex for an equal amount of time. The brunette wouldn't have thought of it, if her thigh haven't been hurting a little now as she stood up. But it was little silly thoughts like that that seemed to stick in her mind and then come out at the most random of times. Like now, as she was standing up and balancing the cello in her right hand, feeling her muscles slightly shrunk from the unchanging position and the slightly cooler air outside. Ner knew she'd walk it off soon enough and so wasn't bothered by the slight tingling in her legs; besides she was used to this after years of playing, there had been no way around it, but getting accustomed to somewhat unnatural position during playing. Yet she wouldn't trade it, no matter how much she liked avoiding pain in any way possible. She couldn't quite imagine not playing, which made her slightly paranoid about her fingers and getting them hurt in any way; an artist's nightmare in this case, as without functioning fingers there was no playing cello and that she wouldn't stand for as long as she could help it. Nerina just chuckled to herself and shook her head lightly, her hair moving with the slight wind, falling into her face a little,only to be swept back by her free hand and brought over one shoulder so that it would have only one direction to fall in.

Balancing the instrument, Ner let it lean against a nearby wall for a moment as she went to swiftly open the case into which she'd be putting it soon enough. She kept on glancing at the cello every few seconds, wanting to be sure it wasn't tumbling down onto the pavement. It wasn't her only cello, nor was it her favourite one, but she was strangely protective of all of her instruments and she'd hate having one ruined because it took a fall when that could've been easily prevented. But nothing of the sort happened and soon she was standing up and getting hold of the cello again and manipulated it carefully into its case. Even after all these years, it took a considerably force on her part to do that. She was no weakling, but she was not exactly physically all that strong. The most exercise she got was from her constant running around and carrying the cello. She avoided gym like a plague because she didn't see any sense in spending time there. She tried it and there had been no happy hormones released, only pain, sweat and boredom. So she gave that up and rather spend an extra hour a day walking around Rome and discovering little places she's missed before or go on a trip that involved hiking. Enclosed spaces weren't for her after all, she much preferred being outside, which was why she couldn't understand how her aunt could work out over an hour every day with her personal trainer, but then again she guessed they were up to more than just your traditional work out.

At that thought, her mind stopped, really not wanting to go down that train of thoughts as it'd be disturbing and potentially scarring. As she was busying her fingers with the clips, Ner thought about her plans for tonight some more, trying to figure something out, since she didn't feel like just going home and doing nothing. Frankly she wasn't even sure if she'd go to her dorm or to her apartment. She only knew that not having her car with her here meant a long way walking back either way. Maybe she'll take a bus, even if she wasn't the biggest fan of public transportation. At least not the one in Naples, since there were always a few drunks and chavs around and she didn't fancy being stabbed as had happened a few times. In Rome it wasn't as bad; she hasn't run into many weird types that'd be getting in her way. But it was a nice evening and it'd be a pity to not walk a little. She might drop by a nearby restaurant for her dinner. It was no posh place, a happy middle, but they had the best lasagne around and she loved lasagne. She'd always take her aunt there when she was in Rome and despite the woman's high standards, she always enjoyed the food in there, even knew the chef and the owner by now, something that didn't surprise Ner in the slightest. She was often offered complimentary deserts or little things and she never understood why since they both knew she could afford to pay for it, but it was a nice gesture on the part of the owner and she accepted with a smile and always spent a moment talking to the man if he was around and tipped the staff generously. There was nothing like a bad waiter in a bad mood that easily transferred on to you, but people in this place were always friendly and smiling.

Just as she was standing up, Ner heard someone talking close to her and in a moment's time she realised he was not only talking nearby, but actually talking to her. She stood up and turned towards the man's voice, smiling at him. "Thanks," she said, glad someone had enjoyed it. She caught the few French words mixed with his speech, but not sounding quite French. She didn't longer on that for too long however, since she wasn't bothered by it; being fluent in French did have its perks every now and then, though it made her wonder where he was from. It wasn't France she was sure and he was a little too pale to be from the North African ex-french colonies sort of a country. Which left her with Canada or the States, but she'd be only guessing at this point. So instead of trying to hit it right, she just went ahead and asked. "If you prefer French I'm fluent," she offered before bending down briefly in her waist and picking up the cap with the money inside. This playing on the street served two purposes - one, she liked it, two, the money was always given to the student that got the money form her to cover studying costs as an extra money on top of everything so that they'd have a little something to spend on having some fun et cetera. But frankly even without giving out that bursary, Ner would be coming to play and then give the money to some charity or something like that.

She folded the cap in half and stuffed it into the side pocket of her bag as she was putting it over her shoulder. She wasn't too afraid to speak to strangers, and generally didn't give off a vibe of a rich sort of person. In the general mindset, those people tended to be inaccessible, cold and full of themselves and so on and so on. To a certain extend, Nerina could be all of those things, but generally she fancied various people to be interesting and was not one to pass up on meeting someone because he didn't get an invite to some posh party or couldn't afford an expensive dinner. "You don't seem like someone that enjoys classical music," she said teasingly as she went to pick up the heavy cello case. Of course appearances were deceiving, but he certainly looked more like someone enjoying a more modern sort of music and was rebellious and things like that. But it was more of a conversation starter than accusation and she hoped he wouldn't take it the wrong way. She made the thing stand with some effort and made sure it stayed upwards. "If you wanna talk hope you can do that as we walk, because I'm starving," she said, fully intent on grabbing something to eat in one of the nearby restaurants. There was one that she sometimes left her cello at, knowing the owner's daughter from University; and they had good food too, which was always a great plus in Ner's book.

[remy labeau]

Remy LaBeau
you got me all wrong
got me all wrong
i'm the kind of guy you aint ever seen before
if you want to hit the floor, are you ready for more

His eyes followed her movements, seeing that she seemed extra careful with her cello as she set it away safely in it's case. It handled so well in the delicatcy of her fingers. It only lead him to assume that it was because the cello was a big apart of her life, and if something happened to it, it could potentionally mean disaster. In the back of his mind, he was wondering if she was even poorer then he was. Having to play for money was usually what people that couldn't afford anything had to do. Music, remy found, was the only area in which you could make a lot of money without going to any college that someone could do. It would help if they went to college, but they didn't have to, to be successful. Look at some of today's singers that occasionally visited Rome. Hopefully one of these days she'll be playing and someone that could help her start a career could. Unfortunatly, Remy wasn't close to one of those people. Even though he enjoyed classical music so much, he had never tried or shown a talent in playing. Mostly because to get an instrument, you needed that factor that Remy struggled with most of his life, which was money.

Her voice was almost as beautiful as her music that she played. It had a strong edge with a soft inner shell, bouncing right into his ears. Nothing was worst then Remy would find someone he was defintally interesting in talking to, and then they came with him with the loud high pitched girls had. He found a lot of blonds had that voice, but there was the occasional burnetts that had it. Or they would speak through their nose, but they wouldn't do it properly, so it sounded like an old record scratching against the panel to Remy. It was just too horrible. Sometimes, people spoke that way, but could defitnally do it the correct way. The girls voice in front of him was soft yet strong, soft, yet loud, in a complex mixture known as her sound. Remy's voice was always soft and clean, making it smooth and deep all the way through. Perhaps that was a different story when he was in different situations, but the always was the part that he had shown in public. With the verbal what she said, it seemed to take comments well. Remy had met those people who would take it too much to heart or look down and blush incredibly. Not that Remy didn't like blushing. Blushing was a way of showing Remy he was being successful in the general goal he had with talking to girls.

Fluent in Frech, eh? That was a good thing, as nothing was more annoying then trying to explain what it meant in English. The problem with that was mostly because he had known nothing else. To Cajuns, their random splutter of Frech words was apart of the English language, but they would later be informed it was French. Thats how Remy found out. New Orleans, everyone spoke that way. Like, for example, it was not too long ago he figured out that 'cheire' meant 'darling' in English. His tounge felt strange saying 'darling' though. It was like a foreign word to him, though it was the word from the country he grew up in. However, there was many words that Remy was annoyumous to that spoke in French. He wasn't fluent at all. He was only fluent with the words he learned as apart of his language. So with a soft laugh, as his laughs were quiet and seducing sounding, "I wish I was flent, cheire, but i'm not" In the end, he added a crooked smile and a lift of his shoulders, otherwise known as a shrug. "We Cajuns only know so much." He said, explaining without saying directly he was Cajun. She may have known, but it was hard to say, since Rome wasn't really full of them too much.

She contiuned to speak, in a teasing type tone. His navy eyes sparkled with amsument as she did some little things that caught his eye. She mentioned just the very word of classical music, for one thing. Oh, Remy loved music, and that was the only type he loved. He liked some lyrics of some other random bands, but for the most part, he would only listen to what was classifyed as 'classical music'. There was so many different types and types of them as well. There was fast quick orchestra like, and then there was the soft playing of a single flute or piccilo. There had to be over hundreds of different music classifed as that, as there was so many artists that would prefer to play their instrument by themselves instead of create a band for people to buy CDs and go on different tours. Not that people didn't tour if they played classical music, for he knew all too well that it wasn't quite the case. "Oh, it's my favorite." He exsasperated, forming it into a sigh slowly at the end. As if he was just summing up out loud what he was thinking. "The music that people listen to now...gives me a great headache. Not bon at all." He said with a sad shake of his head, thinking just how 'not good' it really was.

He obviously didn't mind walking, that saying he didn't have a car. So he pretty much had to get use to walking, and had been for as long as he could remember. Espeically in Rome, it was more of a luxury to be in your own car. Say, in the United States, he remembered the streets were filled and even the poorest of people could get a car. Because of that, however, there was a lack of other transportation for the unfortunate souls that didn't have a car. At least here, there was serveral forms of transportation besides a car. In fact, there was probably a couple of places you could get someone with a car to drive you. That, of course, cost money, but it was better then probably walking. But Remy didn't know anything about those luxtury type of things. All he knew was the basics that most people had. Though, it was still pretty incredibly that Remy picked himself very lower lower class all the way, to say, lower middle class, passing three stages of 'middle lower class and upper lower class' if both of those were possible to acheive. He worked to pay his bills. That was good enough for him.

He nodded in agreement to the walking while they were talking. "Oui, I tend to walk more then usual." He mentioned, waiting for her to lead, since he wasn't sure where she was planning on going. She may be starved and stopped at a restruant, but Remy probably wasn't going to eat anything where ever she went. Like mentioned before, he didn't have any money with him. None. That and he wasn't going to waste money on something he could easily make at home or go to Annas. Anna was always cooking something rather the more, and he could eat for free there. Though, him and Anna did have a weird relationship together... more like best friends with sometimes of the benifits...