MissPerception
Gentle Earthquake
(Just realized the theme was space battles, woops...)
Marina walks into her husband Cole's hospital room for the thousandth time in the past three years, gazing down at his supine form, appearing to be in peaceful sleep as he has since the day he refused to fully wake up. Lost to his own world, trapped inside his genius mind, Marina has only been able to do what she can for him, but her patience is wearing thin and her love is being tested. Her closest friend just begged her to move on less than a month ago, and though she loves Cole with a desperation she's never known with anyone else, Marina longs for her freedom. In her hands, she clutches two pairs of bucket headphones and an electronic drum pad.
Cole always loved music more than he could love any person.
Settling the headphones onto her husband's head, Marina drags a chair with her, the feeling of it so familiar it cuts her like a knife. With the curtains drawn and the light out, the room is dim, and Marina gets as comfortable as she can in her chair as she slips on her own headphones. Pressing a pad, a metronome starts to play, and she smiles sadly at Cole. Closing her eyes, she lets the gentle ticking of the metronome pull her into a trance, slipping deep into Cole's mind as she's done since they met, sharing his wondrous dreams.
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He's on stage, his fingers flying fervently over his various drum pads and synths, the crowd going wild whilst he looks like his heart will stop from the excitement. He doesn't see her down here, he never does, why should he when all the admiration he needs is right in front of him? All he could ever see were the crowds that never came to listen to his wonderful music…Marina simply wasn't enough for him…the past three years reinforced the concept.
Just one last chance, then I'll let him go…
The wild music wraps around her, whipping the crowd back and forth like a twister, but Marina presses on towards the stage, her eyes glued to her husband. Cole drips with sweat, his body moving in time with his upbeat and wild jam, eyes bright with wonder and exhilaration. Even as his wife steps onto the stage, he can only look out on his adoring crowd, so lost in this dream he can't see the one standing beside him. He finishes out his number with a thunderous outro, the deep wubbing of his futuristic bass driving the crowd insane. Silence fills the air, and a look of mourning comes over his face, his fingers already wanting to resume their insane flying over buttons and switches.
Marina is too fast.
It's her slender fingers that find the synth first, and finally, finally, her beloved looks at her. She looks back at him, her gaze fiery with determination as she begins to play her simple tune, one that speaks of love and how it comes and goes. As the simple synth riff is accompanied by percussion that doesn't overtake the gentle electronic piano, Cole moves his hands back to his pads, looking almost offended that someone else is on his stage. His own song, one of angst and frustration, comes into fruition, no words and only maddening sounds. He looks almost frightened as Marina presses her lips to a microphone, singing in a voice that belongs to a fairytale princess, husky with her emotions.
"True, it's a dance, we know the moves.
The bow, the dip, the woo.
Though the words are true…
The state is old news."
Cole doesn't want to listen, he plays his song louder, trying to drown out the voice of reason beside him. He loves it here, he belongs here, he doesn't want that to change, his song building higher and higher to try and consume the one being played at his side.
"Wrap me in your arms,
I can't feel it, but…
Rock me in your arms,
I can't feel it, but…
Get up, get down,
Get up, get down,
Feel the turn of rotation and stop,
See the next one waiting.
Get up, get down,
Get up, get down,
Get up…
Sentiment's the same, but the pair of feet change."
Marina is looking at Cole, but her mind is on the warm smile and gentle caresses of the one who's been by her side whilst her husband slowly fades away on a hospital bed. Tears slowly spill from her eyes as her heart aches for a love she's clung to for years, and the one just beginning to bloom, though some of those tears are for the twisted and beautiful electronic violins Cole is filling the air with. The crowd is torn between the two, some cheering for Marina's chill and bittersweet melodies, others bouncing and calling out Cole's name as his song progressively intensifies. Pounding drums and aggressive woodwinds swoop into his music, tearing away some of those who crowd Marina's half of the stage, a woman who's not even half the genius of the man up here.
She's not losing him again.
Reaching out and pressing two pads on her board, more sounds filtering out to add ambiance to her simplistic synth and percussion, she strides over to him and commands his attention. Since the first time she's entered the cage of his dreams, Cole seems to really see her, and she can almost sob with relief as he appears to drink in her words.
"I know my words will drop on the skin.
Just like a name I remember hearing.
Wild winters, warm coffee.
Mama's gone, do you love me?
Blazing summer, cold coffee.
Baby's gone, do you love me?"
She continues singing into the bridge and chorus, slightly different from the last as newer sounds reach in to overlap the older ones, the crowd shifting ever so slightly as Marina picks up a shaker and uses it to her advantage. Her stage presence is certainly lacking, but her genuine words and simple use of what's presented seems to be accomplishing what it is she wants. She wants her husband to wake the fuck up.
Cole looks terrified and slightly broken, turning back to his setup and doubling his efforts to win the crowd over. He doesn't want to leave here, he likes it here, but this enchantress that's come to challenge him won't be victorious, she can't be. Something strange is building within him, though, and he feels weak as his song slowly begins to morph into something more intense than any of his other pieces. It keeps building and trying to overpower her enthralling and simple piece, but the loud and overlapping strings and deep bass seem to pale in comparison to her soft, warm edges.
Wetness on his cheeks, is he crying? Has she touched him? As if planned, both their songs become quiet at the same time, her voice ringing out to fill the air and his chest with warmth and brightness.
"My baby does the hanky-panky,
My baby does.
My baby does the hanky-panky,
My baby does."
The crowd is leaning in, holding its breath, as Cole reaches out to hold Marina for the first time in three years, his shoulders trembling with sobs as he cries out for her.
"I love you!"
Marina's heart feels like it breaks, then reassembles, and she can't help but call back out to him.
"I love you!"
Without his touch, his song crescendos into its final act, all along a song not meant to be against her, but for her. Everything should have been for her; he can't forget the sight of her in his crowd or the way she smiled under the lamppost when they shared their first kiss. Marina, he thinks, how can you forgive me? In the gentle outro of his song, he takes her microphone, holding it up for the both of him as his soft voice accompanies her own.
"My baby does the hanky-panky,
(Wrap me in your arms)
My baby does.
(I can't feel it but)
My baby does the hanky-panky,
(Rock me in your arms)
My baby does.
(I can't feel it but)"
The microphone and crowd are forgotten as he takes her into his arms and dances with her, and she sings only for him.
"Get up, get down.
Get up, get down.
Feel the turn of rotation and stop,
See the next one waiting."
The tone is more upbeat and lighter now, a sense of victory filling the singer with hope and love for the man moving with her, twisting and lifting her as she sings. The crowd moves with them, pairing up and twirling with smiles on their faces. The war is over, peace is here, and it sounds so beautiful now that Marina is beside Cole once again. Marina can't help but wave at the adoring crowd, and her husband's eyes drift to them as if magnetized. Pain echoes deep in the woman's chest as she finishes her song.
"Get up, get down.
Get up, get down.
Get up…
Sentiment's the same, but the pair of feet change."
As her song reaches its end, Cole dips his wife and laughs into the crowd, and she holds him tightly as she whispers into his ear.
"Please, Cole, please wake up for me…don't make me dance with anyone else…let me be enough."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marina shoots awake in her chair, the metronome still clicking away in her ears, and she looks over to her husband, as unconscious as he was when she walked into the room. Tears are running full speed down her face, and she angrily rips the headphones from her and Cole's heads, resisting the urge to toss his expensive drum pad out the fucking window. She lost, Goddammit, she thought she had him, but he let her go just like he always did! Mourning Cole more than she'd ever allowed herself to before, Marina drapes herself over him, pressing her damp face into his chest and really letting loose.
Wrapping her arms around him, she asks of him every question she's had in the past three years, even letting loose the resentment she carries low in the pit of her stomach. So hysterical is she, she doesn't notice the gentle brush of a warm palm slipping through her dark hair, or the arm snaking around her waist. For just a moment, a horribly sweet moment, she imagines the comfort comes from the man beneath her. A familiar and gentle voice, however, shatters this final illusion.
"I've got you, darling. I'm here for you." Annie's warm and slightly accented tones help Marina to instantly relax, going limp in the other woman's arms. Annie gently pulls the distraught woman into her lap, holding her there tightly and placing soft kisses against her dark hair and temple. Marina gazes on Cole's slumbering form, choking on her sobs and tears, longing for him. Finally, as she so wished Cole had, she lets go and turns to the one who's loved as hard as she.
Loss is so bittersweet.
Marina walks into her husband Cole's hospital room for the thousandth time in the past three years, gazing down at his supine form, appearing to be in peaceful sleep as he has since the day he refused to fully wake up. Lost to his own world, trapped inside his genius mind, Marina has only been able to do what she can for him, but her patience is wearing thin and her love is being tested. Her closest friend just begged her to move on less than a month ago, and though she loves Cole with a desperation she's never known with anyone else, Marina longs for her freedom. In her hands, she clutches two pairs of bucket headphones and an electronic drum pad.
Cole always loved music more than he could love any person.
Settling the headphones onto her husband's head, Marina drags a chair with her, the feeling of it so familiar it cuts her like a knife. With the curtains drawn and the light out, the room is dim, and Marina gets as comfortable as she can in her chair as she slips on her own headphones. Pressing a pad, a metronome starts to play, and she smiles sadly at Cole. Closing her eyes, she lets the gentle ticking of the metronome pull her into a trance, slipping deep into Cole's mind as she's done since they met, sharing his wondrous dreams.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
He's on stage, his fingers flying fervently over his various drum pads and synths, the crowd going wild whilst he looks like his heart will stop from the excitement. He doesn't see her down here, he never does, why should he when all the admiration he needs is right in front of him? All he could ever see were the crowds that never came to listen to his wonderful music…Marina simply wasn't enough for him…the past three years reinforced the concept.
Just one last chance, then I'll let him go…
The wild music wraps around her, whipping the crowd back and forth like a twister, but Marina presses on towards the stage, her eyes glued to her husband. Cole drips with sweat, his body moving in time with his upbeat and wild jam, eyes bright with wonder and exhilaration. Even as his wife steps onto the stage, he can only look out on his adoring crowd, so lost in this dream he can't see the one standing beside him. He finishes out his number with a thunderous outro, the deep wubbing of his futuristic bass driving the crowd insane. Silence fills the air, and a look of mourning comes over his face, his fingers already wanting to resume their insane flying over buttons and switches.
Marina is too fast.
It's her slender fingers that find the synth first, and finally, finally, her beloved looks at her. She looks back at him, her gaze fiery with determination as she begins to play her simple tune, one that speaks of love and how it comes and goes. As the simple synth riff is accompanied by percussion that doesn't overtake the gentle electronic piano, Cole moves his hands back to his pads, looking almost offended that someone else is on his stage. His own song, one of angst and frustration, comes into fruition, no words and only maddening sounds. He looks almost frightened as Marina presses her lips to a microphone, singing in a voice that belongs to a fairytale princess, husky with her emotions.
"True, it's a dance, we know the moves.
The bow, the dip, the woo.
Though the words are true…
The state is old news."
Cole doesn't want to listen, he plays his song louder, trying to drown out the voice of reason beside him. He loves it here, he belongs here, he doesn't want that to change, his song building higher and higher to try and consume the one being played at his side.
"Wrap me in your arms,
I can't feel it, but…
Rock me in your arms,
I can't feel it, but…
Get up, get down,
Get up, get down,
Feel the turn of rotation and stop,
See the next one waiting.
Get up, get down,
Get up, get down,
Get up…
Sentiment's the same, but the pair of feet change."
Marina is looking at Cole, but her mind is on the warm smile and gentle caresses of the one who's been by her side whilst her husband slowly fades away on a hospital bed. Tears slowly spill from her eyes as her heart aches for a love she's clung to for years, and the one just beginning to bloom, though some of those tears are for the twisted and beautiful electronic violins Cole is filling the air with. The crowd is torn between the two, some cheering for Marina's chill and bittersweet melodies, others bouncing and calling out Cole's name as his song progressively intensifies. Pounding drums and aggressive woodwinds swoop into his music, tearing away some of those who crowd Marina's half of the stage, a woman who's not even half the genius of the man up here.
She's not losing him again.
Reaching out and pressing two pads on her board, more sounds filtering out to add ambiance to her simplistic synth and percussion, she strides over to him and commands his attention. Since the first time she's entered the cage of his dreams, Cole seems to really see her, and she can almost sob with relief as he appears to drink in her words.
"I know my words will drop on the skin.
Just like a name I remember hearing.
Wild winters, warm coffee.
Mama's gone, do you love me?
Blazing summer, cold coffee.
Baby's gone, do you love me?"
She continues singing into the bridge and chorus, slightly different from the last as newer sounds reach in to overlap the older ones, the crowd shifting ever so slightly as Marina picks up a shaker and uses it to her advantage. Her stage presence is certainly lacking, but her genuine words and simple use of what's presented seems to be accomplishing what it is she wants. She wants her husband to wake the fuck up.
Cole looks terrified and slightly broken, turning back to his setup and doubling his efforts to win the crowd over. He doesn't want to leave here, he likes it here, but this enchantress that's come to challenge him won't be victorious, she can't be. Something strange is building within him, though, and he feels weak as his song slowly begins to morph into something more intense than any of his other pieces. It keeps building and trying to overpower her enthralling and simple piece, but the loud and overlapping strings and deep bass seem to pale in comparison to her soft, warm edges.
Wetness on his cheeks, is he crying? Has she touched him? As if planned, both their songs become quiet at the same time, her voice ringing out to fill the air and his chest with warmth and brightness.
"My baby does the hanky-panky,
My baby does.
My baby does the hanky-panky,
My baby does."
The crowd is leaning in, holding its breath, as Cole reaches out to hold Marina for the first time in three years, his shoulders trembling with sobs as he cries out for her.
"I love you!"
Marina's heart feels like it breaks, then reassembles, and she can't help but call back out to him.
"I love you!"
Without his touch, his song crescendos into its final act, all along a song not meant to be against her, but for her. Everything should have been for her; he can't forget the sight of her in his crowd or the way she smiled under the lamppost when they shared their first kiss. Marina, he thinks, how can you forgive me? In the gentle outro of his song, he takes her microphone, holding it up for the both of him as his soft voice accompanies her own.
"My baby does the hanky-panky,
(Wrap me in your arms)
My baby does.
(I can't feel it but)
My baby does the hanky-panky,
(Rock me in your arms)
My baby does.
(I can't feel it but)"
The microphone and crowd are forgotten as he takes her into his arms and dances with her, and she sings only for him.
"Get up, get down.
Get up, get down.
Feel the turn of rotation and stop,
See the next one waiting."
The tone is more upbeat and lighter now, a sense of victory filling the singer with hope and love for the man moving with her, twisting and lifting her as she sings. The crowd moves with them, pairing up and twirling with smiles on their faces. The war is over, peace is here, and it sounds so beautiful now that Marina is beside Cole once again. Marina can't help but wave at the adoring crowd, and her husband's eyes drift to them as if magnetized. Pain echoes deep in the woman's chest as she finishes her song.
"Get up, get down.
Get up, get down.
Get up…
Sentiment's the same, but the pair of feet change."
As her song reaches its end, Cole dips his wife and laughs into the crowd, and she holds him tightly as she whispers into his ear.
"Please, Cole, please wake up for me…don't make me dance with anyone else…let me be enough."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marina shoots awake in her chair, the metronome still clicking away in her ears, and she looks over to her husband, as unconscious as he was when she walked into the room. Tears are running full speed down her face, and she angrily rips the headphones from her and Cole's heads, resisting the urge to toss his expensive drum pad out the fucking window. She lost, Goddammit, she thought she had him, but he let her go just like he always did! Mourning Cole more than she'd ever allowed herself to before, Marina drapes herself over him, pressing her damp face into his chest and really letting loose.
Wrapping her arms around him, she asks of him every question she's had in the past three years, even letting loose the resentment she carries low in the pit of her stomach. So hysterical is she, she doesn't notice the gentle brush of a warm palm slipping through her dark hair, or the arm snaking around her waist. For just a moment, a horribly sweet moment, she imagines the comfort comes from the man beneath her. A familiar and gentle voice, however, shatters this final illusion.
"I've got you, darling. I'm here for you." Annie's warm and slightly accented tones help Marina to instantly relax, going limp in the other woman's arms. Annie gently pulls the distraught woman into her lap, holding her there tightly and placing soft kisses against her dark hair and temple. Marina gazes on Cole's slumbering form, choking on her sobs and tears, longing for him. Finally, as she so wished Cole had, she lets go and turns to the one who's loved as hard as she.
Loss is so bittersweet.