Beachfront Grilling(Open)

[rougestar21]

Ahh... now this is how it should be done...

Jonas smiled to himself as he pulled out a matchbook and flicked it, the warm flame quickly shooting up and consuming the red match head before dropping it into the pile of tinder. Even though Jonas had learned the basics of camping from his experience in the South, finding all the right tinder on the West Coast is definately different; without pine branches and dry needles, finding small materials to burn was a new challenge for Jonas. Of course, this wasn't going to bother him today, because his Uncle Vince had just sent Jonas his monthly check today, and Jonas was in the mood for somthing a little different.

After his release from the hospital, Bear, Jonas's Native American roommate, had advised him to bulk up a little, preferably with meat. That being said, Jonas opened up the cooler he had carried down to the beach to reveal two eight ounce steaks and a pack of hot dogs; of course, the hot dogs probably weren't actually meat, but Jonas didn't care. As the fire started to consume the tinder, Jonas threw a couple of branches onto it, still staring at the flames intently, losing himself in thought about recent events.

This isn't NYC, and these guys aren't just street punks; joining Revelation may have been unavoidable. Jonas tried to rationalize in his head. Yet somehow, his old doubt kicked in, the doubt he had inherited from his father and Lydia.
Even so, allying yourself with marauders is not the best course of action.
Either way, it's not like I had a choice; either compromise my principles or die.

Jonas looked up, noticing that he had some coals going in his fire. With that, Jonas pulled out his steel grate and mounted it above the flames, just enough to cook and not to sear his meal. He threw a few more branches under the grill, tore open an 8 ounce steak, and threw it onto the grill.

Jonas waited, wondering how long it would take.

[Vincent Moreaux]

It had been a long day for Vincent, the only light part of it being his private lessons and orchestra practice. Music had a way of calming even the most morose or raging soul, which is why he always found time to either listen or create it. It was with his bow and cello that he lost himself to the haunting melodies he played, forgetting the tragedy that was his life. Infrequent days were depressive, it was true, but it was not his way to wallow in self-agony, so he continues to live life as it were a beginner's scale practice - one step at a time.

One step at a time. Exactly the way he made it to the sea wall by the beach, as always carrying along his cello slung over his back in a hard case. His loose hair was picked up by the wind and carried across his face as he walked the length of the wall from the bus stop, his tailcoat following suit as much as it could being held down by the cello's weight. He looked around at the horizon line, the cityscape appealing to him as lights began to flick on all over SanFran. It was oddly intriguing how such an unappealing sight could be so beautiful in its own ugliness, but such as how things were in the world.

He soon came to a cement stairwell leading down onto the beach, which he walked halfway down and sat upon, swinging the case from his back to set gently down before him. With deft hands, he unzipped either length of the case from the center and popped it open, unfastening the neck and retrieving the bow from the inside slot simultaneously. The cello is stood up and rested, laying on its side next to him across the stairs, as he procures a block of rosin from the compartment inside. A few swift bowings across the dark pine sap are given before returning it to its place, the case is closed, and moved off to to the side.

He lifts his cello and pulls out the stick, letting it slide all the way out before locking it in place and standing it before him, placed gently between his knees. He looks out and notes how late it is becoming as the horizon darkens over the blue expanse of the ocean, giving maybe an hour or so before night sets in. He sighs and takes in more of the surroundings, now making note of small fire a little ways down the beach from him with a single person tending it. He smirks a little to himself thinking, 'Ah, the small pleasures in life,' before tuning up his A string and going down the line (AGDC) using harmonics to fine tune them into a sweet perfection.

With a breath, he closes his eyes and begins to play "Evenstar" from the Lord of the Rings soundtrack. The haunting melody drifts out across the beach in waves of longing and sorrow, his music flooding the hearts of those who would hear.

[rougestar21]

Suddenly, Jonas looked out towards the waves and heard music. Somthing about the music reminded him of somthing he had lost, somthing he could never hope to take back after he had lost himself in insanity...

Lydia.

Staring out at the waves, Jonas began to feel the pain rise inside of him, and a new question plagued his brain; would he have kept Lydia and given up his fighting prowess if he had recieved another chance? Would he forsake his violence and the scars of his betrayal just to hold her close again?
Jonas looked up into the sky. The sun was setting, and the light was gracefully slipping into darkness, only illuminated by his fire and his cooking steak. He rose his hands to the sky and looked at them. Every scar on his knuckles, every cut on his arms, and every wound in his heart, and he knew them all personally. The only thing that plagued Jonas still remained...

Is this the price I paid to become strong? Was it worth my heart to become powerful?

With that, Jonas looked around and saw the source of the music, a boy was playing a cello on the beach.
"Hey, come over here man, it's warmer here!" Jonas called, hoping the musician would hear him.

OOC: I listened to the song while I wrote this; I had based my character off of real life experiences, and it touched me man... that was truely amazing.

[Vincent Moreaux]

((Vincent is strongly based off of real-life as well. Just switch out the three drunks and Gia with a car wreck and my first gf, the places, and some time paradoxies/differences, you've got my life right there. I find that to play a character fully and honestly, you need to put yourself into it at least a little bit.))

He meticulously fingered the strings to the neck of his beauty and bowed with a gentle strength that could only be emitted from a string player. The sun was now down behind the cityscape and caused a shadow to be cast from it over the waterfront, the only light now being the fading residual sunlight and the soft, warm light from the fire on the beach. As he played, images of a gorgeous young woman with long black hair and piercing green eyes entered his mind and she sat upon his lap as he reached around her to play her the very same romantic songs he played every now and then. He would often hold her like this; both loving his music and the way he held her, she would muse "What could be better than both at the same time?" And despite how much he complained about the awkwardness of playing with her seated on his lap, he loved it as well.

Those were the days he longed to go back to the most. Had he not stayed at the concert hall late and walked her home that night or had she waited for him to finish going over the next week's registrar, would they still be together and happy now? It has been two years but the pain was still like brand new, and every time he consciously thought about where he was and why he was there made it all the more present to him.

He finished slowly and removed his bow just-so in order to allow the final stroke reverberate into the night, letting it fade like the shards of existence he left in sorrow's wake. He breathed the cool air in deeply before grasping the neck of his instrument and leaning back, resting the cello against his chest as he stretched awkwardly against the steps. "Hey, come over here man, it's warmer here!" the lone firebuilder called over towards him just as he was laying back. Vincent sat up and looked around a little for the person that the young man was yelling at, but having no one else there he deduced it was he himself that was being invited.

He stood up, holding his bow and cello in his left hand as he crouched slightly to pick up his case in his free right hand, carrying the three objects down the remainder of the stairs and across the sandy ground to come into the light of the fire. He nonchalantly dropped the case, it popping open on its own, placed the cello and bow back inside, and shut it, taking a seat on top of it.

"Thank you... I'm sorry if my playing disturbed you. My name is Vincent Moreaux, by the way," he said cordially and somewhat awkwardly, offering out his right hand. Vincent had of course not been a very outgoing person at Hircine, let alone at all ever, and was obviously uncomfortable around new people. He played it off well enough, though.

[rougestar21]

OOC: I believe that; everything about my fighting style and my determination is completely based on my life, along with the two girls in my bio. Other than that, I'm b.s'ing the other parts. ;D

Jonas looked up at the new arrival sitting around his fire. Seems like a big guy, tall, and a lot more clean cut than Jonas was used to. In Jonas's experience in NYC, anyone who dressed that nice was in the Russian or Italian Mafia, and Jonas tried to stay away from large groups of them, and to run when he saw steel glinting in their tenchcoats. Of course, even though Jonas was the nephew of a Mafia hit-man, he looked more like a pot-head then anything. Of course, this never bothered him; Humility before your brother man was Jonas's dogma, and that radiated in his style of dress.

"Good job playin that cello over there." Jonas said warmly as his new companion sat down next to the fire, "It really helped clear out my head a little." As soon as he said that, Jonas glanced over at his steak and flipped it, listening to the hiss of the wet meat hitting the hot grill, and smelling the sweet smell of a warm hearty meal.

"You want a steak or a hot dog? I got more than I could eat anyway."

[Vincent Moreaux]

Upon nearing the small campfire, a smell of grilling meat could be noticed wafting through the cool night air. The scent sending a brief disgust down Vincent's back, his French heritage coming through in his finickiness of fine cuisine. The young man wore the basic teenage attire of the day and it came as no surprise to Vincent that there should be another much like this anywhere in the world. The kid surprised him, though, by being somewhat versed in music due to his recognition of the cello; it was far too often that it was called a string bass by those less informed.

The guy seemed friendly enough, complimenting Vincent on his playing and then offering him some of his food as well. As soon as the words were spoken, Vincent waved awkwardly and in a thick French accent said, "I'm sorry but I cannot... I," he paused a second to think of a good excuse, "...just ate before coming here." Vincent hated lying but his propriety overrode that fact and he was more or less forced by ingrained habit to do so to "provide an honourable outlook." He smiled politely and added, "It looks good though, you must do this often?"

He adjusted his position on his case, shifting his weight to a more comfortable place. A nostril raised in inconsequential and completely unconscious disgust as another wafting of the searing red meat hit him. "So... It really is a beautiful night," he said, looking out over the now black water with a navy coloured horizon, attempting a futile continuation of conversation.

[rougestar21]

"Suit yourself." Jonas shrugged as he put the steak back into the cooler. Anybody else would have known that the new arrival didn't really want a steak, but not Jonas; subtility went right over his head. Of course, Jonas was not exactly used to the "high life"; he had never been to a nice restaraunt, eaten caviar, or played polo, and he was just fine with that. Besides, a nice steak is a real Tennessee tradition; Jonas was just sorry he couldn't get it chicken-fried.

As Jonas cut off a bite of his steak, he looked out at the waves and listened to his new, apparently upper-crust, acquaintance.
"I guess so; it reminds me of a few things best left forgotten..." With that, Jonas turned toward his new friend and then looked at his hands, "like, for example, when I traded my heart for my fists and feet." Maybe it was hearing that song that his acquaintance had played, but some part of Jonas wanted to tell him about what had happened in NYC with Lydia; of course, Jonas quickly stopped himself before he spoke, letting his inherited paranoia take over.

"So, what brings you out here, Amico*?"

*Friend; Italian

[Vincent Moreaux]

Vincent watched as the young man that had yet to introduce himself ((hint hint)) cut a slice of meat off the steak on the grill. He said something brief yet terribly compelling, almost to himself, before asking Vincent about what he was doing at the beach.

"Alors," a breath, "I'm taken here on the wings of an angel. I've nothing but the wind to carry me, and it blows me where it wishes..." he says distantly. "Really, I do not know what brings me here. I suppose it is the music." He smirks slightly as he pats the case under him. "The music is all that really keeps me going, mon ami. I play to feel. I play to remember. I play to live. There is nothing in this world that so understands me as music does. The waves of the string splitting the air around it like I move through a crowd, the sound that vibrates the body like the pulse from my heart."

"Here... I will show you what I mean," he says sliding forward and turning to face his box, opening it. The light from the fire reflected on the high-gloss wood of his well-kept instrument, as he lifted it out of the case and slide the bow from the inner pocket. After removing the appropriate items, he closed the case and sat down once again. "I once played this song with the love of my life. She used to sing it while I played, but she is gone now. I think that you may find what you are looking for in it, if only briefly." He began to play solo Faraway Vol.2, continuing in a more relaxed tone.

"You see, it is not the way I move nor the way I play nor the way the music sounds singularly, but it is the way we receive it that truly matters..." A few more bars are played before he makes his next point, "You see, mon ami, music expresses that which we cannot put into words. This is why I play... This is how I live," he finishes before he closes his eyes and loses himself to the rest of the song.

The finale comes and goes and he opens his eyes once more, smiling gently at his newfound acquaintance through the soft light of the fire. "Did that make any sense whatsoever? You've not lost your heart to your fists; you've lost one passion for another. Everything is still the same but the priorities are different. Understand?" Vincent raises a brow as he hangs his left arm over the body of his cello and his bow arm across his right knee.

[rougestar21]

OOC: Sorry, but my character is uber-paranoid; he won't tell his name unless someone asks him for it.

Jonas smiled a little, "True... Maybe I just don't want to open my heart again... It just wouldn't be prudent to open it up here." With that, Jonas threw another piece of wood under the grill and tried to gather himself; he wasn't about to spill his guts to a stranger, no matter what beautiful music he was playing.

"That is an interesting philosophy for a school like Hircine; I just hope you're not afraid of betrayal at the hands of the violent gangs." Jonas said as he laid his hands behind his head and laid back in the sand, looking at the stars.

[Vincent Moreaux]

This guy seemed like he was hiding something or was too afraid to let anyone in to know him. There were too many barriers up between this kid and the world and that concerned Vincent for some reason. It wasn't like he really cared all that much, he was more intrigued by the idea than anything. The kid said a few things about keeping his heart to himself and being careful of betrayal. Betrayal did not concern Vincent. If he didn't have anyone to betray him, he wouldn't be betrayed would he? The kid laid back in the sand and turned his attention to the stars.

"Well... If you open your heart than you'll bleed out and die. I'm not asking for anything really, but it would be nice to at least know your name, mon ami," Vincent said calmly. He plays a few improvised notes on his cello before he slides the stick back in and stands, turning around. He places the instrument back into the case and closes it, zipping and snapping it shut. He yawns slightly, covering his mouth, as he takes a seat again where he was before.

He sighs lightly and decides to make a leap of faith to try to find out more about the reasoning behind the closed doors of his comrade. "The song I just played..." a kind of half-amused recollecting snort centers a pause, "I used to play for my girl, for Gia. There are words to it as well, but that was her part. Every time I play that song, I feel really empty because she's no longer with me..." He slides off the case to lean back against it and allowing his head to drop back, he too now looking at the stars. He didn't want to say too much, but he tried to let out just enough to gain some insight into who this person was.

[rougestar21]

Jonas turned toward his new acquaintance, a sepulchrual look on his face. "You want to know my name? Kid, let me tell you a little somthing; In NYC, I know a group of people who only need your name and a single excuse to have you shot, stabbed, and thrown off a skyscraper to make it look like an accident." Jonas was, of course, referring to his uncle's work with Don Castellano, but there was no need to associate his uncle with any of this.

"But I do need people; some of them may have their uses in the future. That does not mean that they need to know anything outside of business." Jonas turned back toward the sky, to avoid his aqaintance's gaze,

" I don't let my personal life mix with my business, you understand?"

[Kabuto Takada]

Bear sat in the darkness,just outside the glow of the fire.
He watched and listend to the conversation and had heard enough.
He stood and manuvered his body to sit next to the fire.
He didn`t say a word,just reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife and stabbed at the meat on the fire.

"Amigo,i see you are bulking up.But i think sausages are not the best way,mostly cause their made out of third world children."Said Bear.He chuckled and threw some kindling on the fire.

He strecthed his hand out to Vincent.
"Pleased to meet you,my freind.You play beautifuly."Said Bear.

[rougestar21]

"Yeah, and you damn well better stay away from my steak." Jonas smiled as he pushed Bear's knife hand away and motioned toward the icebox, "If you want one, there's still one left that I don't believe my aquaintance is interested in."

"Anyway..." Jonas muttered as he turned back toward the sky, still talking to the musician, yet not making eye contact. "I've had my own girl problems, but I think I would rather have yours. I take it she still loved you before she died, for love in death is an eternal blessing, but fear in life is an eternal curse, which is my case..." Jonas quickly stopped himself, "but I digress; being so brusque in San Fran, especially at Hircine, will get you killed, y'know?