#i did try it out on an online keyboard cuz i cbf getting my old one out and idk if its just me but that D sharp sounds rancid as hell

[raitrolling]

No more worlds like this, no more days like that

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

Katrin woke from her ‘nap’ on the couch, one that she thinks was just meant to be a twenty minute thing that turned into sleeping through the entire day. She never intended to make the couch her typical sleeping location when she had a perfectly fine recuperacoon in her respiteblock, but she always just… Ended up staying here. It was her nightly routine by now; leave her hive for either a night working at Barsho’s boutique or wandering around the city with a vague aim to do some pickpocketing, try to sneak her way into a bar, get caught, then go home to finish off whatever drinks that still happened to be lying around. It was genuinely not a way to live, she knew that very well. But, she just felt… Stuck. Certainly getting through each night fine and meeting the minimum requirements for socialising before people started openly worrying about her, but not making any sort of progress. A monotonous loop of drunkenness and misery.

She wasn’t rostered on to work tonight, and she didn’t feel the motivation to leave the hive. The drive to write had been gone for a long time, the tales of Rirsan Katish had become too unbelievably over-the-top in her desperate attempts for escapism that the life of her self-insert character was no longer appealing. There wasn’t much left for her to do, aside from locate the remote and an unopened alcoholic beverage...

However, as she moved to sit up, Katrin caught a glimpse of something she had forgotten that she still owned: An old keyboard propped up against the wall. 

It was a gift from her kismesis, although Katrin couldn’t recall exactly which 12th Perigees it was. Of course Klavir would buy her something related to his own hobbies, it was his way of sharing a part of himself with his quadrant. Katrin had given him some books she’d stolen in return, her way of telling him to get better hobbies than playing piano and being depressed. He retorted that it was better than her hobby of drinking and being depressed, to which she couldn’t argue with. He was right, as much as she hated to admit it. 

She recalled a conversation she had with her neighbour one night. Soroll had invited her over to listen to the latest song he had been practicing on his drum set - which was a homemade mishmash of discarded rubbish bins and some actual drums he had scavenged from the local garbage dump. It sounded horrible, as expected, but whenever he hit the bass drum and crash cymbal (which accounted for half of the proper equipment he owned), she could recognise the alt-rock song he was trying to play. She had asked him why he likes to play, despite not being able to play properly and gain any sort of recognition or money from it. He shrugged. 

“I dunno. Its jus fun.”

He was probably right about that too. Soroll and Klavir spoke of playing music as just something you do whenever you feel troubled. Klavir was never away from the piano for too long, it was equally his career and his down time, and he’d mentioned the therapeutic undercurrent behind each note and key change. The same could be said about Soroll; Katrin didn’t know much about his “job” in the gang as he didn’t like to talk about it, but late into the night after he’d gotten home from whatever he did, she could sometimes hear him practicing his drumming.

Perhaps there is something about hitting things in a non-destructive way that can be beneficial. It’d be healthier than opening another bottle of cheap wine, and safer than breaking into someone’s hive, at the very least. Katrin lazily rolled off the couch, getting to her feet and then wandering over to the keyboard.

Eichio had gifted her a couple books for learning the keyboard after he noticed it when he came over one time: A few simple sheet music collections for beginners that allows one to play classic tunes with just one octave, and one slightly more advanced one to play some famous pop songs. If she put her mind to it, she could probably play the latter ones with ease. Klavir had given her countless lessons, but over time had given up trying to teach her when she either became too discouraged from not being able to keep up with him, or their lessons would devolve into some sort of black-fuelled flirting session. Needless to say, whenever Katrin attempted to recall the times she did play decently, her mind would wander to the way she would slip under Klavir’s arms while he was performing to sit on his lap in an attempt to distract him from his music, only to get flustered herself when he would grab her wrists and guide her to play for him. He was much too good at turning the tables on her.

… Right, the books. Katrin picked up the keyboard and one of the simple sheet music collections, using the weight of the instrument to push numerous empty cans and clutter off the coffee table for it to rest on top. She never bothered to buy a proper stand for it, nor a chair to sit on. Pulling the couch cushions off onto the floor and stacking them on top of one another will have to suffice. It’s not like there’s any foot pedals to worry about. Without any room under the coffee table for her legs, Katrin opted to kneel on the cushions as she flicks through the pages of the piano book. 

She settles on one short song: My Favourite Things. The sheet music only covers two pages and three verses of the song, and the keys don’t go beyond the centre of the keyboard. The book is propped up on the music stand attached to the keyboard. Katrin rests her hands on the keys, right thumb on middle C as she remembers Klavir teaching her, and plays.

E - B - B | G - E - E | B - E - E | F - E

Rain - drops on | rose - es and | whis - kers on | kit - tens

E - B - B | G - E - E | B - E - E | F - E

Bright cop - per | ket - tles and | warm woo - len | mit - tens

E - B - A | E - F - D | D - A - G | C

Brown pa - per | pack - a - ges | tied up with | strings

B - C - D | E - F - G | A - B - A | D#

These are a | few of my | fav - our - ite | things

She plays slow the first time, trying to get a feel for the keys again. There’s no metronome to keep time, but she’s heard the original song enough for her to recall how it should sound. This melody is simple, there’s only one sharp for her to keep track of and only one note is played at a time. There’s a small sense of accomplishment when she completes the first verse without any mistakes, such a thing doesn’t happen often to her. If she hadn’t sat through those lessons with Klavir and was trying solely on her own, she probably would have given up immediately when things didn’t go perfectly. But she at least knows something, and not some fantastic idea straight from her imagination that she could immediately discover that she’s a prodigy who will make millions performing for others. She should probably give her kismesis credit, if it wasn’t for him she wouldn’t be here right now. She begins the second verse.

E - B - B | G - E - E | B - E - E | F - E

Cream co - loured | pon - ies and | crisp ap - ple | stru - dels

E - B - B | G - E - E | B - E - E | F - E

Door - bells and | sleigh - bells and | schitz - el with | noo - dles

E - B - A | E - F - D | D - A - G | C

Wild geese that | fly with the | moon on their | wings

B - C - D | E - F - G | A - B - A | D#

These are a | few of my | fav - our - ite | things

The pace picks up, and rather than singing the lyrics listed in the book, Katrin finds it easier to repeat the name of the note as she plays it. Nothing any of her friends could teach her - Soroll and Eichio don’t know how to read sheet music, and Klavir is such a natural he struggled to dumb anything down to her level. It was her own way of playing, and a way that felt right to her. 

E - B - B | G - E - E | B - E - E | F - E

Girls in white | dress - es with | sat - in white | sa - shes

E - B - B | G - E - E | B - E - E | F - E

Snow - flakes that | stay on my | nose and eye - | las - shes

E - B - A | E - F - D | D - A - G | C

Sil - ver white | win - ters that | melt in - to | spring

B - C - D | E - F - G | A - B - A | D#

These are a | few of my | fav - our - ite | things

If the book of sheet music continued to the next verse, Katrin would have kept playing. It felt good to play, to make the instrument make sounds that were pleasing to the ear, even if they were much simpler to the music other people would make. It even felt a little fun, for reasons she nor her neighbour could elaborate when she first posed that question to him all that time ago. She thinks she understands it now, and plays the song over from the beginning. Her pace continues to quicken, until finally reaching the tempo of which the song is meant to be played. When she vocalises the notes, it stops being a mnemonic tool and turns into an accompanying harmony. E - B - B | G - E - E | B - E - E | F - E. E - B - B | G - E - E | B - E - E | F - E. E - B - A | E - F - D | D - A - G | C. B - C - D | E - F - G | A - B - A | D. 

Again and again she plays, until if anyone could hear the song from outside of her hive they would undoubtedly be sick of it. She could flip the page and try a different song, but something about this one just feels right. There’s a calming rhythm to the repetition of the notes, and a sense of progress as she scales the keys in the final line of each verse. Progression. Another thing that doesn’t happen often to her, but here it feels doable. Maybe tomorrow she’ll try another song in the book, and maybe she’ll keep going until she feels ready to try the more difficult piano book later on. For now, she’s content - perhaps another emotion that feels foreign to her - to play whatever she feels like because to feel something at all is an improvement to her current lifestyle. And unlike everything else, she has no reason to play, there’s no monetary gain from playing alone in her lounge room, no reason to impress anyone, no skills that can be carried on into any career or useful activity. It’s just fun.