asoutcastshear | 9 × Text

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[Well after being ~~terrorized~~ befriended by Raoul, little Sack Boy decided to explore more of the ship. It feels like an entire lifetime has passed since he had been able to move freely. He didn't want to waste it. But when he came across the piano, he couldn't get over the delightful sound it made.

He loves music and the fact that he's finally gotten an opportunity to play a real live piano is quite a privilege indeed.]

Does anyone know how to play the piano? Can you teach me?

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I am familiar with musical theory.

[Juuust another chance to show off.]

Really? I would like to learn. Please.

Do you have a piano to learn on?

I'm with one right now.

[He stops typing just long enough to check where he is.]

The library.

I shant take too long.

[In reality, no, Holmes takes his sweet goddamn time to get to that library - and when he enters, he continues to go at a leisurely place until he comes to a stop in front of the grand piano, violin and bow in hand.]

[Sherlock spots the boy hiding behind it, tilting his head to the side and waiting a moment or two, his free hand stuffed in one of his pants pockets.]

It's a safe assumption that you won't learn very much over there.

[Oh lord. The thought of being around another person isn't too thrilling to the little tot. So he ducks behind the piano. Really, after his experience with Raoul, Erik's not too keen on meeting new people right now.

But when he hears Sherlock's voice, he peeks over the top of the piano, still clutching his little monkey. Then he speaks, to him. His voice is tiny and his words are French.]

I'm sorry.

[And the curiosity that would become the Phantom presents itself, peeking above the piano, a meek and modestly clothed child - bruised, filthy, and obviously abused. He stares, in silence, as the boy apologizes.]

[Holmes stares another moment, eyes narrowing slightly at the burlap sack over the boy's head.]

... C'est bien.

[He gestures with his hand holding the violin for Erik to come out of hiding.]

[Erik doesn't move for a few moments, debating on whether or not he could trust this man. But seeing the violin is enough to coax the boy to come a little closer.

He inches up to Sherlock slowly.]

I am Erik.

Edited 2010-03-09 06:03 (UTC)

Holmes.

[He can't quite peel his eyes from the burlap sack, but he taps the seat with the bow for the kid to sit, resting the violin against his waist. Since the boy is obviously French, Holmes slips into French.]

How much do you know already?

[Erik places the monkey on the piano and sits down. He taps the keys gently.]

Nothing.

[But he'll be a good student! He'll learn fast, honest!]

[Sherlock appraises the ratty monkey quickly before his gaze returns to the boy, one eyebrow raised judgementally.]

... Can you see properly?

[A part of him hopes not. He's honestly curious; Holmes has a hunch that Erik here is going to look really interesting...]

[He knew that was coming and twists his mouth behind the sack. Raoul had done a sneak attack and snatched his hood, which was what made him run away from him in the first place. He didn't want a repeat of that. He looked up at Holmes, eyes solemn.]

I can see well enough. But if you want me to take it off...I will.

[He just hoped Holmes wouldn't laugh and point. He didn't have a lot of expectations, after all, adults were just as cruel to him as the children.]

If you wish to learn the chromatic scale.

[It was something of a payment for Holmes' time here, revelling moreso in the discovery and understanding of the bizarre than the attaining of the monetary. Sherlock twisted the bow around in his hand, resting the other end on the edge of the piano's seat, a makeshift tail swishing in feline anticipation and attention.]

...If you please, young Erik.

[Erik had hoped Holmes would say it wasn't necessary. That he didn't need to see what was hidden behind the sack. But that simply wasn't meant to be. And his little heart sank in his dirty little chest.

He didn't move for several moments.]

As you wish.

[His hands gently grasped the sack where it rested on his shoulders and he drew it off, revealing the marred imperfect flesh. And for some reason, he waited to hear the sounds of coins clanking against the floor.]

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