10-26-2013, 05:31 AM
Erich brings a guitar to the Gathering. He barely knows how to play, but even so, he loops the strap over his shoulder and behind his neck, he finds the strings with his fingers. And at some point, he begins to strum.
Softly. A simple chord progression, a minor to C, G to F. Over and over again, repeating it until conversation begins to lull. Until curious eyes turn his way. Until enough of a hush settles around him that they can hear him when he opens his mouth, begins to sing in an unpracticed, untutored voice:
Flames to dust. Lovers to friends.
Why do all good things come to an end?
He's not very good. He's not always on key. His voice cracks sometimes. He licks his lips mid-sentence when his fingers falter, when he needs to find the chord again. Still; he tries his best, and his best is enough that some of the Garou, the younger ones or the ones more in touch with modern pop culture, begin to recognize the song. Begin to understand what Erich is doing. Trying to do.
This is Raspberry Sky they have gathered to honor, after all. This is Raspberry Sky, who not so long ago in the first blush of summer opened a Moot
just like this.
Traveling, I only stop at exits,
wondering if I'll stay young and restless,
living this way, I stress less.
I want to pull away when the dream dies.
The pain sets in and I don't cry,
I only feel gravity, and I wonder why.
By the time the song draws to its long, strange coda, Erich's voice is tired from unfamiliar exercise; his fingers are sore from pressing on the strings. But he's no longer the only one singing. Those who know the song: they've joined. Those who don't know it, but understand the simple movement of its chords: they've added their voices. Erich doesn't have Raspberry Sky's easy charisma, her infectious charm, but little by little he gathers them the way she did once, gathers them all in her memory.
And the sun was wondering if it should
stay away for a day,
'til the feeling went away.
And the sky was falling
and the clouds were dropping
and the rain forgot how to bring salvation.
The last lines of the song speak of death. Erich doesn't get there. He stops, rather abruptly, the chords dropping out, his voice falling silent. He scrubs his knuckles across his eyes, once, fiercely. Then he unloops the guitar off his shoulders and steps back.
Softly. A simple chord progression, a minor to C, G to F. Over and over again, repeating it until conversation begins to lull. Until curious eyes turn his way. Until enough of a hush settles around him that they can hear him when he opens his mouth, begins to sing in an unpracticed, untutored voice:
Flames to dust. Lovers to friends.
Why do all good things come to an end?
He's not very good. He's not always on key. His voice cracks sometimes. He licks his lips mid-sentence when his fingers falter, when he needs to find the chord again. Still; he tries his best, and his best is enough that some of the Garou, the younger ones or the ones more in touch with modern pop culture, begin to recognize the song. Begin to understand what Erich is doing. Trying to do.
This is Raspberry Sky they have gathered to honor, after all. This is Raspberry Sky, who not so long ago in the first blush of summer opened a Moot
just like this.
Traveling, I only stop at exits,
wondering if I'll stay young and restless,
living this way, I stress less.
I want to pull away when the dream dies.
The pain sets in and I don't cry,
I only feel gravity, and I wonder why.
By the time the song draws to its long, strange coda, Erich's voice is tired from unfamiliar exercise; his fingers are sore from pressing on the strings. But he's no longer the only one singing. Those who know the song: they've joined. Those who don't know it, but understand the simple movement of its chords: they've added their voices. Erich doesn't have Raspberry Sky's easy charisma, her infectious charm, but little by little he gathers them the way she did once, gathers them all in her memory.
And the sun was wondering if it should
stay away for a day,
'til the feeling went away.
And the sky was falling
and the clouds were dropping
and the rain forgot how to bring salvation.
The last lines of the song speak of death. Erich doesn't get there. He stops, rather abruptly, the chords dropping out, his voice falling silent. He scrubs his knuckles across his eyes, once, fiercely. Then he unloops the guitar off his shoulders and steps back.
BECAUSE OF LIGHT AND DUTY AND REASONS.