xp_logs | The Muse Strikes.

x-cannonball.livejournal.com posting in

Either very late Saturday night, or very early Sunday morning, whichever way you want to look at it:

Sam walks into the room, and sees Alison sitting on floor with music sheets and writing paper strewn all around her. And her composing guitar, Amanda, on the bed.

"Woah, and I thought MY room was a mess..."

Cutting him off absently, Alison points towards the bed. "Sit," she mutters, looking through a few papers and scanning them hurriedly as though her life depended on it.

He pushes aside a bunch of papers. "Right, um. Here? I think there's a bed under all this."

He gets a sharp look from Alison, until she realizes it's not paper she needs. "Careful with Amanda." She chews on her pen and then writes a few more lines, sitting cross-legged on the floor and leaning down on her elbows to write.

"Ooh, wow. I don't think I've ever seen her up close before. Real beautiful," he perches reverently next to the guitar, looking at it with admiration.

Alison pauses from her rather feverish writing and grins up at him quickly. "Better get acquainted with her, then - she's why you didn't' need to bring Rufus." She starts to chuckle at the look on his face, then blinks and raises a hand to forestall any comments - the writing resumes, with Alison humming a few lines underneath her breath.

Sam blinks, speechless. He can't possibly bring himself to touch Amanda, knowing exactly what she must mean to Alison.

"I... Um..."

This is the last time
That I'm ever gonna come here tonight
This is the last -

"Augh. No," she mutters to herself after singing out the first lyrics of the song, erasing a few words and closing her eyes to concentrate. After a few moments she opens her eyes and resumes writing, nodding to herself slowly. "It's back," she smiles softly, then grins up at Sam with a delighted look on her face - and raises both eyebrows when she sees he hasn't picked up the guitar yet. "Don't make me get up Sam. Amanda won't break. I can't play. If I don't get this down by tomorrow, music and all, it's gone. Please," she looks him at pleadingly, shivering from mingled delight at the Muse being back, and worry at missing Her this time.

"Okay...I get it. Inspiration struck, and you must Answer." Sam blinks again, getting tingly from Alison's contagious elation, but also feeling stupid and slow. Him? Play Her? What? Something just doesn't click. But he's certain that Alison meant what she said, so he reaches out with an almost-trembling hand and picks up the guitar gently, getting situated on the edge of the bed. He flexes and wiggles his fingers, almost as if he's stalling, and begins to pick out some simple but elegant riffs and warm-up patterns. He notices that the guitar is perfectly in tune, and he can almost feel the love Alison must have poured into the instrument.

She barely notices as he picks up her guitar, racing to keep up with inspiration - hard work can always turn out a good song as she well knows, but her best ones are always the ones who hit her like this. She manages to catch a few more lyrics, biting her lip and smiling from pure joy - feeling for the first time in a while as though everything will be alright, no matter what happens. She sets the music for the words on the sheet, humming out a few notes and changing the last one twice, before singing it out loud.

I can see the pain in you
I can see the love in you
but fighting all the demons will take time
it will take time

Sam is taken a little by surprise at the sound of Alison's voice, the melody intoxicating and beautiful, and the lyrics hitting close to home. He takes a deep breath, feeling out the notes in his ears and his mind, and after a few false starts he plays the verse back to her, singing it as he plays with a few little harmonic embellishments, maybe because they come naturally, or maybe because he can't help but show off just a little.

Alison stops momentarily from her writing to look up intently at him, whether in surprise or approval he can't be sure. Literally all that matters to her right now is Getting The Song Right.

"Second trill goes - too sharp," she pauses, eyes absent as she internally re-listens to what he just played. "Use the third instead. One octave lower." As he plays it again she adjusts her own singing to suit the shift - and once they're done, lets out a deep rich chuckle. "Oh yes... that's good. We'll go thought it all before working the opening and the solo sequence," she looks up at him, waiting for him to agree. "Refrain now." She hums out clearly once to set the note, and then starts to sings it out, pausing once to adjust something on the paper laid out before.

the angels they burn inside for us
are we ever, are we ever gonna learn to fly
the devils they burn inside of us
are we ever gonna come back down, come around
I'm always gonna worry about the things that could make us
cold

"Wow..." Sam nods in agreement as he listens to what she says, playing it out and tuning it up as he goes. "That sounds amazing, Al..." His fingers are still tingling as he holds the strange guitar in his hands, and he marvels at how Alison can get so swept up in her composition. When he writes things, it's just little diddles on Rufus or Jeb (the banjo), and never anything that comands him like this song must be doing to Al. The words give him chills, and the music flows with them, illustrating them in ways he couldn't dream of doing if he tried forever.

She continues writing, both words and notes, and the hours pass by without either noticing as they play bits and parts of the song over and over again. Dawn and eventually full morning is there by the time she edits a last word, and then sits back to keep herself from changing it any further, though with some difficulty. Her hair is tied back in messy bundle with streaks of blonde hair falling out, and her clothing more rumpled than anything Sam's ever seen her in - but despite the obvious tiredness, she is radiant. She hums out the last few lines to herself, arms wrapped around her middle, sighing in satisfaction.

if I was to give in - give it up
- and then take a breath - make it deep
cause it might be the last one you get
be the last one that could make us cold
you know that they could make us cold
I'm always gonna worry about the things that could make us
cold

Her smile fades slightly as she finishes singing the last few words, and for a moment she looks down at the papers strewn about with a wistful look. It fades quickly however, and she smiles up at Sam contentedly - finally allowing herself to slip out of the grip of inspiration.

Sam smiles warmly, though tiredly, watching Alison revel in her--their--accomplishment. He likes how carelessly pretty she looks, confident in herself, and her smile reassures him. The music is therapeutic for her, and he's positive that she'll only get better from here. "Looks like you made some beautiful art, Al..." he slides down off the bed, folding up next to her on the floor with Amanda in his lap.

Shivers run down her spine and she shakes her head slightly, momentarily torn between the unadulterated high of the composing and a surge of awareness at his nearness. She reaches out reflectively and lays a bandaged hand on his arm, giving him a wordless look of gratitude for the help. With another quiet laugh, she picks up the pen again, and writes a few lines on the first page of the stack of music sheets.

Angels or Devils
Lyrics, Alison Blaire
Music, Samuel Guthrie & Alison Blaire

"It's yours just as much as mine, Sammy."

Sam puts his head down on her shoulder, yawning widely. "Hardly, I just helped a little, tha's all." He rubs a calloused finger over her bandages, looking a little worried. "You're feeling better now, yeah? I've been kinda worried...you looked down in the dumps ever since Thursday. And how'd you get your hands so beat up? They weren't that bad before...just a little scraped."

Alison stiffens for a moment, and then shakes her head in resigned amusement. "I'm just so bad at this being depressed stuff," she says wryly, freeing up one hand to wrap it around his shoulders. Yep. Friends do that. She leans her cheek on the top of his head and flexes one hand before her slowly, wincing and coming to a stop halfway through. "Went to the gym and had a go at the punching bag Friday night. As you can see, it won."

She takes a deep breath, and lets it out. "It won't happen again though... I just - felt-" she doesn't point at the lyrics before them, just waving her hand instead and chuckling. "It's ok now. Guess the Muse really has left the premises, I can't find words anymore."

Sam smiles, his eyes fluttering closed. "That's okay. You don't need words all the time."

Alison doesn't move or reply as his breathing deepens slowly, leaning her cheek on the top of his head and waiting until he falls asleep. Once she is certain he won't wake, she cautiously shifts her guitar out of his now loosened grip, and places Amanda back in the guitar case nearby, closing the lid shut with a faint click - but not bothering to lock it.

No words. None I can say, anyway.

She looks out watches dust motes dance in the rays of sunshine peeking through the curtains as he sleeps, and tries not to think too much.

~*~

Note the song is, obviously, borrowed (am so not a songwriter). ;p Go listen to Dishwalla's "Angels or Devils". Heck, go listen to Dishwalla. ;)

"Angels Or Devils"

this is the last time
that I'm ever gonna come here tonight
this is the last time - I will fall
into a place that fails us all - inside

I can see the pain in you
I can see the love in you
but fighting all the demons will take time
it will take time

the angels they burn inside for us
are we ever
are we ever gonna learn to fly
the devils they burn inside of us
are we ever gonna come back down
come around
I'm always gonna worry about the things that could make us cold

this is the last time
that I'm ever gonna give in tonight
are there angels or devils crawling here?
I just want to know what blurs and what is clear - to see

still I can see the pain in you
and I can see the love in you
and fighting all the demons will take time
it will take time

the angels they burn inside for us
are we ever
are we ever gonna learn to fly
the devils they burn inside of us
are we ever gonna come back down - come around
I'm always gonna worry about the things that could break us

if I was to give in - give it up
- and then
take a breath - make it deep
cause it might be the last one you get
be the last one
that could make us cold
you know that they could make us cold
I'm always gonna worry about the things that could make us
cold