Crater Park II: There is a hole in your mind

The contrabass? That would be a sight to see from such a rather shrimpy troll. Nevertheless, he has more pressing matters on his mind.

Would you happen to have a violin on you?

While that does sound like a fine way to spend my time, I was actually wondering if you might be inclined to play a duet.

He flashes Amadey a warm, charming smile. Now things were starting to feel more like the old days.

Resuming a proper playing position, Brugen returns the gesture.

Whichever one you like should work fine. You'd know best, after all.

This was most definitely not the night he'd thought it would be, though to be honest, so far it's turning out much better than he'd expected. He eyes Amadey's violin; certainly a handsome instrument, but how did it sound, he wonders.

Slightly surprised by the nature of the duet, he follows Amadey's cues and playing the best he can, sometimes conceding and playing backup, sometimes taking the lead with the main melody. He'd never played many duets over the sweeps, but then, he'd never played a song by Amadey Luppak before tonight, either.

His face falls stern and distant as he concentrates solely on the music the two create. Whenever he takes the lead, he is somewhat perturbed to find the song inevitably finds its way to a softer dynamic and a wash of cold melancholy, the tempo faster or slower as it suits the song. Amadey's, by contrast, usually takes a warmer, sprightly atmosphere. He can't seem to figure out why they wind up so contrasting. It doesn't make the music bad and indeed transitions nicely, but it begins to frustrate him, not that he'd be unprofessional enough to let it bleed into his playing.

Amadey begins to look somewhat put-off, so Brugen bites his lip, takes a deep breath, and focuses on keeping his playing purely in sync with the other's. Now is not the time to be cathartic, he thinks to himself. This duet is purely for Amadey's sake.

Not daring to speak and interrupt the music or either of the trolls' concentration, Brugen quirks a small smile at Amadey as if to say "everything's fine, go on."

Brugen begins playing with a renewed vigor, playing just as cheerfully as Amadey, a broad smile spreading across his face. Swaying to the beat, he almost looks like he's dancing. Feeling like the song may be nearing its end, he wants to give it a good finale.

Brugen lowers his instrument and rests his bow over his shoulder, looking somewhat embarrassed.

Do forgive my earlier... slips, I suppose. I did after all come out here to play a certain kind of music, and I suppose I was still thinking about it too much.

He looks away and smiles wryly, a mild bitter tone in his voice.

I wouldn't call myself especially talented. I've just had a lot of time to practice.

Brugen jolts his attention back to Amadey, his eyes narrowing to two thin slits of ice. He laughs with not a trace of humor in his voice, a chilly smile replacing the small, bitter one of moments ago.

Oh my, you are such a riot sometimes, my good man. I might hazard a guess that we have different goals in mind with our endeavors, perhaps.

Brugen kneels down and begins packing his instrument back into its case. After a moment of thought, he decides to be truthful.

To evoke certain emotions in my audience. But it helps to know them before attempting it, as you saw yourself. This is why I mainly play slower songs in a lower key.

He straightens up, his instrument case jumping back into his sylladex with all haste, to be replaced by another, slightly different one.

You see, I simply adore making others sad. It is to that end that I will play whatever works in my favor. But I digress. Here.

He holds the case out to Amadey expectantly.

Something tells me you wouldn't like anything I would play if it were not of your own making.

His expression and tone once more impassive, his eyes flick down to the instrument case.

The intent? To support an artist in his works, I suppose. I have the utmost respect for your efforts, and so I would like to give you something that may aid you.