#redbcrn

cue tomoe giggling from afar

❛❛ perhaps it is the weather that has such an effect on everyone ~ ❜❜

      01.02. HAPPY BIRTHDAY STELLA STAR (o゜▽゜)o☆

@redbcrn

Happy birthday to Stella, whom owns a special place in my heart now & forever ♡

drabble: playing the piano / singing for the first time vs playing for the crew for the first time? comparing how it feels performing for a deck full of pirates rather than an empty room

           DANCING  HUES  OF  RED  AND  YELLOW  SPARKS,  merged  in  a  blend  of  flaming  orange  engulfing  keys  of  black  and  white  while  a  petite  figure  of  a  heart  broken  musician  could  only  watch  as  her  beloved  piano  burnt  to  ashes  along  with  the  ship  she  called  H O M E;  a  trivial  loss  perhaps  when  compared  to  the  tragedy  of  other  losses  suffered  that  day.  

           However,  the  scene  remained  engraved  in  memory,  playing  on  repeat  and  indigo  hues  lost  in  a  trance  would  be  captivated  by  the  dance  of  embers  until  it  took  over  her  entirely,  prompting  an  attempt  to  recreate  the  scene  amidst  her  mourning  daze  —  a  match  struck,  the  piano  catching  flames,  not  her  original  one,  no  that  one  had  long  been  lost,  but  the  spare  the  family  had  brought  out  in  a  vain  endeavor  to  lift  her  spirits.

           She  had  almost  burnt  herself  along  with  it  had  she  not  been  pulled  out  of  the  fire  —  not  a  single  word  uttered,  not  even  as  frantic  family  members  questioned  her  actions;  it  is  only  once  she  watches  the  fire  completely  extinguish,  leaving  naught  but  smoke  behind,  when  her  voice  is  finally  heard  in  the  form  of  a  sob,  before  hurried  steps  retreat  to  her  chamber  again.  

                                                       ──── ♫ ────

           It  is  not  until  days  later,  or  had  it  been  weeks  when  she  would  finally  voice  coherent  words  other  than  the  names  of  her  lost  loved  ones  —  long  waves  of  strawberry  blonde  now  chopped  in  a  disheveled  mess  framing  round  cheeks  which  had  lost  their  rosy  color;  she  would  turn  to  her  elder  sister  for  support,  voice  weak  and  cracking  from  all  the  crying  and  having  not  spoken  in  so  long.  

           ❝Momo..  can  you…  H E L P  me?❞  she  would  request,  a  query  both  girls  understood  held  a  weight  much  heavier  and  deeper  than  a  mere  haircut.  

           Since  then,  she  would  slowly  begin  to  speak  again,  quietly  and  in  short  sentences,  but  she  would  finally  acknowledge  her  surroundings  and  the  people  still  around  her  than  merely  the  ghosts  haunting  her.  

                                                       ──── ♫ ────

           However,  it  would  take  much  longer  for  her  to  actually  sing  again.  Long  months  would  pass,  sometimes  she  would  take  a  seat  before  her  piano  to  attempt  to  play,  drawing  concerned  gazes  of  family  members  as  they  recall  her  trial  with  flames  before  —  a  memory  which  had  been  but  a  vague  blur  to  the  hummingbird  herself  —  but  never,  would  she  truly  muster  the  strength  to  play.  

           She  would  sit  quietly  for  hours,  gazing  upon  the  black  and  white  keys  taunting  her,  begging  to  be  played  —  digits  would  hover  above  them  then  retreat  to  her  lap  again  as  her  mind  flashes  back  to  the  first  time  she  played  before  the  same  family  now  eyeing  her  in  anticipation.  

                                                      ──── ♫ ────

           Hands  trembling  as  they  tugged  at  her  own  mini  skirt,  glossed  lips  bitten  into  shyly  while  indigo  hues  refused  to  meet  the  crowd  who  had  just  become  her  new  family  —  she  needed  to  make  them  proud,  to  show  she  belonged  among  them  but  never  before  had  she  played  to  such  a  large  crowd.  Shyness  and  anxiety  had  been  about  to  win  this  battle  until  indigo  met  silver  irises  —  among  the  hundreds  of  pirates,  there  H E  stood,  an  encouraging  smile  upon  freckled  features  and  subconsciously,  she  would  smile  back,  softly  awestruck.

           A  single  glance  and  yet  it  would  grant  her  the  courage  to  play,  fear  shifting  into  passion  as  she  lost  herself  in  the  music,  performing  like  never  before  —  the  tune  comes  to  an  end,  and  she’s  snapped  to  reality  with  the  heavy  applaud  and  cheering  of  her  family,  pumping  adrenaline  through  her  veins  to  finally  share  her  music  with  someone  other  than  her  bedroom  walls  —  previous  nerves  now  shifting  to  thrill  and  ecstasy,  never  could  her  bedroom  walls  ever  grant  her.  

                                                       ──── ♫ ────

           But  when  indigo  hues  now  watch  the  crowd,  her  source  of  strength  is  nowhere  to  be  found  and  when  she  presses  her  lips  together,  he’s  not  around  to  replace  it  with  a  smile  —  she  leans  her  head  back  glancing  up  at  the  sky,  digits  touch  the  nape  of  her  neck  where  his  name  had  now  been  etched,  marking  her  forever.  

           ❝This  one’s  for  you..  Ace…❞  she  speaks  quietly  before  lids  come  to  a  close,  lashes  fluttering  above  rosy  cheeks  as  she  finally  plays  —  the  sound  of  a  dusty  piano  fills  the  air,  followed  by  the  gentle  mellifluous  voice  of  a  broken  bird;  the  first  song  she  ever  plays  would  be  dedicated  to  none  other  than  her  late  commander  and  when  she  finishes  this  time,  there’s  no  applaud,  merely  silence  and  tears  for  a  few  moments.

           She  waits,  wondering  if  she  had  done  more  harm  than  good  by  playing  again  —  if  now  that  she  had  been  broken,  her  music  could  only  broken  too  —  until  a  moment  later,  when  loud  cheers  replace  silence;  they  would  smile  through  tears  in  their  eyes,  they  would  laugh  and  cry  and  she  would  elicit  a  sound  that  is  a  mixture  of  a  sob  and  a  giggle.  

           Through  her  song,  a  wall  would  shatter  and  the  pain  which  had  long  been  unspoken  by  so  many  of  them  would  finally  be  out,  a  bird  set  free  from  its  cage,  just  like  herself.

Make me choose between 2 characters and I’ll draw the winner.

" perhaps he'll give in if you joined in with us as well, oyaji. " marco-nya, that is.

      ❝ What’s this about, then? ❞ A king did not bow his head for any. But, in cases such as these, exceptions could be made for fun and family. Whitebeard has watched his children in their shenanigans from afar without interference for the entirety of the day. Young kittens assimilating more and more into their rambunctious habits. To say he is entertained by the notion is an understatement .

     A large finger pressed between ears along pearled fur, dog lazed along the captain’s massive leg as the mischief continues. Leaned from his place, tail once thumping solid against the trunk of thigh now swiping along the air as he leans towards the lotus with round, intent eyes. Whitebeard eyes the animal curiously, dismissive of the wet spot now present in cloth from protruding canine tongue . 

      ❝ Mm, what is it, Stephan? Do you think I should encourage this? ❞ The Strongest Man in the World, looking down upon humble creatures for advice in family matters. Most would consider this child’s play, but he is more than accepting of every crew member’s opinion on this matter ─ including his beloved companion. The dog stares for what seems to be an eternity, the wag of tongue halted as if true consideration is being taken. Then, as if to mimic the crew that began to fall into this spiel one by one, a single paw raises to damp cheek with mustache eagerly curled up towards the sun. Like a lucky cat, he sits proudly as if the very visage would stir the hearts of many for countless miles .

      ❝ Rrrrya~ ❞