Kinny // 19

Songbird trapped in a cage called The Safehouse

I know you see me. Like some wide eyed dreamer. That just rolled in off a dusty mid west bus. Yeah, on the outside I look fragile. But on the inside is something you can’t crush.

I just want to go home…

Aug 19th at 7PM / reblog / 14 notes

The Sound of Silence. // Kinny

The two stayed put as the music began to fade when Kinny ended the song with a small exhale of breath, her figure sagging against his as this strange tenseness that was lingering in the air rolled away like mist. Though the male was no singer, he knew of the song well enough, as well as the message it sent. She had revealed more of herself, he knew, with the passion she had put into playing it for him. It was then that she scooted away, back to her spot, and his eyelids fluttered open and shut a few times, glancing at the sudden distance between them.

His jaw clenched slightly at the sound of her clearing her throat as if meaning to say something, and he peered over, mouth just slightly agape in faint wonder, but she couldn’t find it in herself to say something. Kain forced his mouth to shut as to not appear like a dead, staring fish or the like before his eyes came back to the keys. There were words he wanted to say, but he couldn’t find it in himself to voice them properly. He wanted to comfort her in some way without putting himself through the physical action that would tear at his walls.

Gulping slightly, his fingers sprawled out against the ebony and ivory keys as he closed his eyes and let himself go again. As a result, he began to play Not Alone by McFly, which was what appeared first on his mind. Perhaps he just wanted to tell Kinny that she wasn’t the only one with crosses to bear and hurt on her mind. He certainly did feel that they were similar in some senses, though he dared not to express in what exact ways except through music. It hurt too much to tell the real tales behind his pain and suffering…

Even worse, it brought the ghosts back. And he doesn’t want to have to deal with them, even though he knew very well he must be able to in order to move on someday. There will come a day when Kain will have to learn to forgive himself and not let his past harm him from living life like he used to before all that happened to him. When it will happen, he doesn’t know. But, for now, he’ll stick to biding his time dealing with others and just getting by until he can solve himself.

Kinny forced a smile as she tried to figure out what song Kain was playing. She racked her brain for the matching lyrics, knowing she’d heard the song a few times before. Without warning, she finally pulled out her phone, useless at Gray manner except for a few apps that didn’t require internet. One of those was a song recovery program, and she recorded a snippit of the song before nodding her head in recollection as the lyrics splayed across the screen. She felt the air around them becoming vulnerable again, knowing that Kain was exposing part of his hidden self, deep beneath the layers of walls and protection. It was frankly becoming exhausting, spending so much time with him,  yet knowing so little about him. She thought back to what Liz had told her. "Ask questions." Kinny had tried this once, and Kain had shut that cold door in her face as fast as she’d tried to open the latch. She wasn’t sure if she could bear the humiliation of rejection again, and so soon.

Still, as he ended the song, watching his fingers cease their movement, Kinny felt she didn’t have the energy to play another song. She was tired of playing songs. She wanted to hear Kain’s voice again, though she wasn’t sure if now would be the appropriate time. She bit her lip for a moment, engrossed in these thoughts. Suddenly, without warning, she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “My mother hated me. She always said my music was a waste of time. She said I could never perform in front of anyone because I have maddening panic attacks where I sometimes can’t even breathe. Dante said that I don’t know how to shut up. My mom couldn’t even look at me, right before I left Alma. I just…sometimes I don’t even know where I fit in. Even in Gray, I feel like an outcast. Does that make sense?” she inquired, pulling her eyebrows together in a frown, realizing she’d gone and opened her mouth again, exhaling the first thing that came to her mind. Kinny wasn’t used to filtering her thoughts or speech. It was tiring that she needed to do so in Gray. It was a habit she feared she’d never grasp full understanding of.

The Sound of Silence. // Kinny

He simply nodded, though it was a very subtle motion, in response to her equally faint compliment. Kain felt that she was registering how a little on edge he was about the mental and emotional venting session/slip-up of a heart-to-heart via music, as she decided not to pursue or, at the very least, ask what had occurred. It seemed,  she lost herself in her thoughts for some spare moments, in which he gratefully took to further calm down and level out his thoughts again. In his mind, even though the walls were rebuilt, he was going back over them and making sure there were no cracks; he might spill the truth if he wasn’t careful, causing panic. Or worse.

He was pulled back out of his conscience when she leaned on him and, though it was very sudden, he didn’t shrink away from her figure, letting her reach over and splay her own thin fingers over the keys. He darted his gaze to the piano as he noticed there was a heated blush crossing Kinny’s cheeks, wondering what had caused that reaction. Surely, it must be embarrassment of having to shift over in order to reach the notes of the song she was about to play… Right? He couldn’t find any other reason in which she would. Well, d’accord, there was another reason that just may explain the odd behavior. But it couldn’t be true. And, even if it were, he wasn’t going to let it develop. He can’t.

As she began to play, he took a quiet and slow inhale, his nostrils filling up with the  room’s different smells, from the overwhelming scent of dust and decay to this delicate, feminine scent - perhaps perfume or shampoo… Or something of the like, coming from Kinny to his own light dab of cologne. She began to hum, and it quickened the time it took to recognize the song, though he stayed silent, reveling in the intertwining melody and harmony, as well as a hint of rhythm at rare points. Consumed by the moment caused by the music, Kain began to empathize this other side he remembered viewing the night she played her guitar for him, still feeling this unknown sting of pain, this wave of angst and suffering, that only her music revealed.

One couldn’t help but wonder who caused it. Not that he’ll ever voice it.

 Kinny’s mind soared above the two, seated on the piano’s bench. She retreated to another place, far away from the drab Manor. The sting of recollection made her realize something she’d never voice aloud; somehow, she was happy to be in The Safehouse. Dante had been right. What did she have to go back to in Alma? A verbally abusive mother and a half-insane father? There certainly wasn’t much of a future for her there. Hopefully, she would be rid of this place soon, and she could start her life over again. Still, that thought scared her. Kinny was never able to be alone entirely. Sure, she had her days where she’d lock herself in her room…but the rescue from that was knowing there was always someone waiting on the other side of the door. She couldn’t imagine not having that comfort; couldn’t fathom how not having that security blanket would affect her. Brief thoughts traveled to the boy beside her. Could she convince him to come with her, when the time came? She shook the thought violently from her head, though not showing any outward appearance as she battled inside herself. Of course he wouldn’t go with her, and why was she thinking of such things when she barely knew him? A vague recollection seeped into her mind. Kinny was in love with love. She drew hearts on her hand when she was bored in class. She fantasized about snagging her own worldly boy once Dante and she arrived to the city. A piece of Kinny felt that if she only had someone to love, someone to take care of…it would make everything else go away. Not to say that Kain was only stand-in for this; she cared about Kain for who he was. However, it explained her fascination and draw to him, at least.

She finished the song with a sigh, lowering her shoulders so the tension melted into the ground. She turned her eyes toward Kain, forcing a smile. She sat quietly, not knowing exactly what to say at the moment. She felt the silence should hang in the air for a moment, so she kept her lips shut, realizing her proximity to Kain had remained despite the conclusion of her song. She battled within her mind, back and forth to determine whether she should scoot back over to her place on the bench. Reluctantly, with Dante’s voice ringing in her ears, she moved back to the other side of the bench. Dante’s voice continued, reminding her that he expected Kain and June would grow tired of her soon. Her brow furrowed as she contemplated that. Maybe they would. Maybe they all would. She cleared her throat to say something, then cowered for fear that she would disturb Kain.

Tempted to go for a wander.

You were the one that fucking got us put here in the first place!

Are we really going there again, Dante? Really?

Aug 17th at 9PM / via: d-derhett / op: d-derhett / reblog / 41 notes
Aug 17th at 9PM / via: jessieever / op: jessieever / reblog / 148 notes

Don’t you just hate it when you go to make a sandwich

So ask them questions, don’t analyse.

Well why don’t you put a request in the suggestions box?

I have, I have. But not everyone is the most eager to answer my questions…

It’d be nice if we had one. But I don’t think this place is homey enough for one of those.

Aug 15th at 8PM / via: liz-lacciardi / op: liz-lacciardi / reblog / 95 notes

The Sound of Silence. // Kinny

Kain shrugged a little at the compliment as if it were nothing. “To put things simply, many members in our family have naturally impeccable mental capacities, and we take pride in ourselves by cultivating it… Anyway, if I don’t know it already, it can easily be figured out.” Oh, if only she knew the reality of it, though. No matter how well he words it, it could never be truly shown its greatness unless he’s in his working environment and mindset; psychology. There, his own wit is matched up with his many learned studies and sweetly complimented by ability to note-take and deduce.

As he played, his figure naturally bowed towards the keys, crooking at a certain point on his spine as those same adept appendages ghosting over, letting all of his pent-up emotions pass through the calloused tips with practiced ease. This had been his therapy for the last couple of years, though only those who witnessed him would ever know. Which now Kinny did.

She began to sing along, knowing the words, and he didn’t hinder or pause, letting her voice carry softly. The tone held much understanding, even sharing, of Kain’s struggles, and he half-smiled as he kept playing, glad enough that she was finding it in herself to sympathize and get a peek into what he’s hiding away, even if it weren’t him truly telling his tale.

The song slowed to as much of a sweet ending he could muster to contrast with the overall bitter feel, and he let out a slow exhale, just giving himself a few spare moments to gather up the pieces of his heart again, crafting them back and placing it carefully in the inner sanctum before erecting the walls again. That calm, distant facade overtook him again, and he finally opened his eyes and looked to Kinny, one of his top front teeth grazing over his bottom lip. His jaw clenched, and he found himself unable to form words, so his eyes darted away again a little off to the side, looking more at the section of the piano on her side moreso than herself.

Kinny noticed the half-smile forming on Kain’s mouth, and she returned it. She was happy to provide some relief in the midst of so much pain. She could tell that his emotions built with the rising of the melody, as he pressed the keys harder against their cradle. Watching Kain was like a gentle, sometimes brutal, unveiling of something deep inside; something he continued shuffling away for fear of unleashing whatever he feared was hiding within himself. She’d thought more recently about what June had said; he had to be a victim of something horrible, yet his words voiced that he regarded himself as the villain. She’d spent countless hours (if she were honest) trying to figure Kain out. It was borderline obsessive, as Kinny had never met so many people who took a decoder key to figure them out. Most people were two dimensional, but Kain had what felt like hundreds of layers to pick through. It was slowly consuming her, and her patience was becoming non-existent. In the same token, she felt Kain was like a house of cards; if she pushed too much, they’d all come tumbling down.

Kinny watched as Kain finished the song, noticing it was literally like a switch had been turned on inside of his mind. She could see a physical representation of what was transpiring; he’d retreated within himself again. Kinny thought it was too bad they couldn’t talk while playing music. She thought that only then would she actually pull anything from Kain. She decided to give him a break for a brief period, seeing that he was visibly pained, before his expression was painted over into a poker face again.

"I love that song," she said quietly, before racking her brain for the few covers she had learned. Her brother was also musical, and his taste was… darker than hers. She remembered one he’d taught her; a song that reminded her of the times with her mother. She’d never spoken out against her mother, mostly because it wouldn’t do any good. One day, she’d been used as a verbal punching bag. Her mother urged her to work toward something more practical. She told her how stupid she’d been for thinking she’d have a career in music. She cited Kinny’s anxiety as the reason. "How do you expect to perform in front of hundreds of people when the simplest things have you freaking out like a two year old?" her mother spat. She’d stepped into her brother’s room, which held a keyboard. She’d tried to compose a song, but her tears were flooding the keyboard and her mind was a mess. "Here, sis…let me teach you a song," he said quietly, without even trying to approach the subject of their mother. It didn’t do any good. No matter how much they complained about her, their father wouldn’t leave her. He was too terrified of living life without her. So, with several hours of practice, she learned the next song; a perfect fit for the hidden angst Kinny held.

She didn’t bother warning Kain of her proximity. She figured if he felt uncomfortable, he’d move. She reached over in front of him, leaning against his side to grant her further access to the keys she needed. They weren’t too far from where she was sitting, but far enough to bridge the gap between them. She fought a grin as a hot blush rose to her cheeks. This time, she hummed along quietly, allowing the melody to consume them both. Images flashed in her mind of her mother’s disapproving face. Her forehead crinkled with the recollection, feeling her eyes begin to glass over. In a way, she and Kain weren’t so different. Kinny retreated within herself through music, and created a perfect world of innocence as she did so. Her world lacked corruption, the thought replaced with dollhouse dreams. Everyone was inherently good, and no one had ill intentions. The irony of this was her mother was the very thing she fought against. In the harshest days, Kinny had painted on a smile, refusing to let her mother know how much she hurt her. Kinny had her own walls placed firmly in front of her. The difference was her walls invited those who couldn’t reach past her surface instead of pushing everyone away.

Don’t you just hate it when you go to make a sandwich

Not if you don’t care enough to over analyse it. Then it’s not confusing at all.

So stop trying to figure them out and you’ll become settled. Simple solution.

Nothing to do, very few ways to pass the time. Yes, I can see how it could feel like longer.

I can’t help it! We’re all going to be here for a long time. I might as well try to figure out who I’m living with. Otherwise, it feels awkward and uncomfortable. I’d rather live with people I know than perfect strangers.

No kidding. You’d think they’d at least organize activities for us instead of having us fend for ourselves.

Aug 15th at 2PM / via: liz-lacciardi / op: liz-lacciardi / reblog / 95 notes