Fox seemed utterly lost as Crick explained how the show 'Jeopardy' worked. Of course since he'd never seen television either that made it even harder for him to grasp the concept. Fox started to get a somewhat glazed look to his eyes as his confusion mounted, but they regained their usual clarity when he realized what Crick was doing.
"How are you making that music and talking at the same time?" He blurted out suddenly, seemingly losing all interest in talk about the television show or what lyrics it's song might or might not have. Fox walked quickly around Crick a couple times, seeing if his new friends was playing some sort of trick on him. Yet he didn't discover anything to explain the music and him talking simultaneously. Fox stopped his pacing when he was in front of Crick, his tails all wagging.
"Wow! You can make music without an instrument! That's so awesome!" Fox had an excited grin plastered across his face now, even bigger than when he'd first become friends with Crick.
Post by Crick Watson on Sept 10, 2011 1:01:06 GMT -5
Crick couldn't help but laugh a little as Fox began inspecting him for any tricks he might have up his sleeve. He nodded at Fox's statement.
"Indeed...I have been able to ever since my mutation. In fact I can replicate any noise I have heard, or even could think of, perfectly. If you're ever interested, there are several plays and operas I could do from memory...every part in each of them, be it male, female, or simple sound effect. Here...let me demonstrate:"
From here, he would demonstrate by singing a small section of a song from Phantom of the Opera, singing first in a male's voice, then in a female's, with music playing at the same time as the singing coming from his mouth.
"Sing once again with me, our strange duet, My power over you grows stronger yet, And though you turn from me to glance behind, The Phantom of the Opera is there, Inside your mind...."
"Those who have seen your face draw back in fear, I am the mask you wear, it's me they hear, My spirit and my voice, in one combined, The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind...."
At this point the music and everything would suddenly cut off as Crick looked to Fox to see what his reaction was to this perfect imitation of what was considered classical opera...well at least to Crick. He could care less what the rest of the world considered it.
Fox had plopped down on the floor when Crick started singing and the music started playing. While the little kitsune had no idea who or what the 'Phantom of the Opera' was, he didn't seem to really care. The music and singing simply amazed him, and he sat there and stared with wide eyes.
By the time Crick was finished, Fox's jaw was hanging open with awe and his eyes were wide as saucers. Then a moment later he hopped up and started clapping. "I don't really understand what you were singing about, but that was amazing!" Fox said with genuine happiness in his voice. It really was incredible to Fox that Crick was able to make all those sounds all by himself. Now he just wished he actually knew more about the opera and these songs.
"You have to tell me more about this stuff! It sounded so wonderful!" From the sound of Fox's voice it was like he was on the verge of pleading.
Post by Crick Watson on Sept 13, 2011 9:57:16 GMT -5
Crick was quite pleased that Fox seemed to rather enjoy the short snippet of the opera. It was a little surprising though that Fox wasn't aware of what opera was...where he came from, EVERYONE knew what opera was, including those who couldn't afford to go see it. Well...at least the area of England he was originally from, anyhow. When Crick spoke again, it was in his regular, Britishly accented voice.
"Well, I can't really take full credit for the music and lyrics and all...after all, I am only imitating what I heard. Basically though, an opera is a lot like a play, except with music and singing involved quite a bit more...though there are also musical plays, operas are a bit more...refined, you could say? It requires a lot more practice with singing to be in an opera than it does with a regular musical play...however, all of them are theatrical performances in which people act, or basically assume the role of character that they are not, to basically tell a story to an audience. You would likely enjoy them if you ever had the chance to see one....I could sort of maybe do it, save for these metal bands that the prison wardens placed on me."
Crick would turn around and show Fox that he had a pair of bands attatched at the base of two of his limbs, the highest up pair that had rather sharp edges on the tips of them.
"Normally, I could control insects, and use them as actors to perform a play...but alas, these bands block my connection with my six and eight legged friends."
Fox seemed a little confused at the explanation of opera and plays. They sounded very entertaining though. Fox was a little startled to find out that Crick also had the annoying metal bands clamped on him. Though after hearing that Crick could control insects if he didn't have the bands, he understood why they were there. A swarm of insects would likely be able to get anywhere inside the asylum, one way or another, and the paranoid humans wouldn't want that.
"I'm not much of a fan of these metal things either." Fox commented, turning around himself to show the three metal bands he had on the base of each of his tails. He wagged his tails a little, causing them to clang against each other before he turned back around. "They say I'm too dangerous without these... but that's only cause I'm not really sure how to control what I do. If I could practice it a bit I'm sure I'd get the hang of things and then I wouldn't accidentally hurt anyone." Fox sounded a little sad as he remembered the guards and scientists he'd killed over the years whenever his fear caused his powers to lash out to protect himself. Even though it was all in self-defense it still saddened him.
Post by Crick Watson on Sept 17, 2011 23:11:14 GMT -5
Crick felt for Fox...he wasn't quite sure what was causing the fuzzy fellow to be a little gloomy, be it the bands themselves or something else, but Crick figured a change of subject might be a good idea right about now. He cleared his throat slightly before continuing.
"Say, Fox...you mentioned you had made a few other friends. Might I inquire as to hear a little about them? Perhaps I might even be able to meet them at some point...would you care to join me on the way back to my...quarters, I suppose you could call it? I am rather new here, so it is quite bare..."
Crick then waited for Fox's reaction, beginning to walk if he agreed...though he was careful to make sure his normally long strides didn't make Fox fall far behind him. It simply wouldn't do to have his new friend get left behind in his dust, now would it?
Fox's ears perked up as Crick talked, instantly changing Fox's train of thought. "Oh yeah, my friends are really nice. There's Kit, and she's got kitty ears and a tail. Then there's Liadon who lives in the room right across the hall from my room. He looks pretty normal for a human I guess, but he's really nice anyway." Fox paused for a moment, wondering how Crick would react to his third friend.
"I also know a really nice lady named Marisa... but she's not a prisoner. She's not mean like the other people that work here though! She's really really nice!" Fox blurted that last part out quickly, wanting to make sure Crick knew that Marisa was not a bad person even if she worked for bad people. "She saved me from some bad people the other day, and then treated me to a special lunch. She even rubbed my belly and tucked me too."
Fox trotted alongside Crick as they talked, and the way he talked about Marisa was the same way someone might talk about a mother. Even if Fox wasn't really aware of that fact himself, he already looked up to Marisa as a sort of mother figure who would make everything better.
Post by Crick Watson on Sept 21, 2011 17:37:38 GMT -5
Crick listened with interest as Fox spoke of all his friends and those he cared about, nodding occasionally as he listened. He had to chuckle with how hastily Fox mentioned that this Marisa was nice, which he took as unusual for employees in these....establishments.
"Oh, no need to worry, good sir. I tend to not judge until I've met the person and gotten to know them. Even those that seem off-putting tend to have a more interesting core than what they let on, you know? The way you speak of this Marisa, though...it seems to me that you view her as kind of like you might your mum. A secondary mum, even if not your true one...but a mum, nontheless. It's always good to have that kind of figure in your life, correct? I would be honored if I were to be graced by the presence of such a lovely sounding lady...especially considering that all I've gotten are strange looks when I attempt at being nothing more than friendly."
Crick seemed to sound a little annoyed at this last statement...indeed, it did irk him that no one seemed to be friendly...well save for Fox. All he was trying to do was be nice, and all he got for his efforts was a strange look of alienation...
Fox's face got hot when Crick mentioned that Fox seemed to act like Marisa was his mommy. That increase in body temperature was his version of blushing. He'd never really thought about Maris quite in those terms before, but now that Crick had pointed it out Fox knew it was kinda true. Marisa wasn't his real mommy, he knew that much, but she did treat him like his mother used to.
Fox grinned when he realized Marisa did as protective over him as his real mother would be in a similar situation, and that made him feel pretty happy to be honest. Fox snapped out of his thoughts when Crick mentioned how people seemed to avoid him even when he was only trying to be friendly. Fox certainly understood that.
"Well, it took me a couple decades to make any friends in this asylum... mostly because I think most people think I look weird or are afraid of my fox-fires. I think people might be a little scared of your looks, or maybe their jealous of your hat. I don't think I've seen anyone here with a hat quite so nice." Fox stated as he continued to walk with Crick. He idly wondered what Crick's room was like, and where it was located inside the asylum.
Post by Crick Watson on Oct 3, 2011 15:00:38 GMT -5
Crick stopped to think for a moment as he let what Fox was saying sink in. Intriguing theories, indeed. He waited until after they turned a corner to reply.
"Well, I must say...I hadn't really thought about the hat theory. Though, I'm also not sure that anyone other than me would really be fond of wearing it in here. It is possible though, I suppose....though I do find that the appearance theory has more merit to it. I am not the most pleasant creature to gaze upon at this point in time, after all...I must say however, I am glad to have stumbled upon a friend early on in my...stay. I am sorry it took you twenty years or so to find some friends...but at least you have them now, right?"
Turning another corner, Crick would walk down to the end of a hallway that ended abruptly at a stone wall, and turned to the door on the left of this dead end. While he was unsure as to where Fox's room was, he seriously doubted it was anywhere near this little wing of the Asylum.
"Well....here we are. As mentioned before...my room is quite bare, but you're more than welcome to stay a while if you wish."
Crick then opened the door to his cell, which had nothing in it save for a simple bed for sleeping on. He wondered if Fox would follow him in, or decide to go his own way from here...either way, he was glad to have met the furry little fellow.
Fox continued to trot alongside Crick, listening to his new friend's comments. "Yeah, I'm happy to have some friends here and twenty years isn't too long." Fox replied quite cheerfully. It didn't too long for them to reach Crick's room. Fox had to admit that he hadn't been in this area of the asylum and hadn't even known that this was another area that had prisoners' rooms.
When they entered Crick's room, Fox was a little startled at how bare it was. There was nothing at all but a bed in there! Fox tilted his head to one side as he eyed the spartan furnishings. "Whoa, you weren't kidding when ya said it was bare!" Fox said before going inside. He didn't really mind that there wasn't much to see, as he enjoyed Crick's company.
Fox flopped down on the floor without care, making himself comfortable as best he could. "It's not so bad really, I mean you have a bed at least. I'm sure you could acquire some more stuff too."
Post by Crick Watson on Oct 10, 2011 13:35:47 GMT -5
Crick paused a moment....it had just occurred to him what Fox was speaking of. Twenty years? Yet he didn't seem -that- old at all, plus the fact he said that twenty years wasn't that long. Intriguing....now he had to ask...only after he replied of course.
"Indeed, good fellow. I have no possessions save for the clothes on my back. I cannot say I am sure as to how I would attain any further possessions, but for the time being I must make do with what I have. I must say however...you have piqued my curiosity. You say twenty years isn't that long a time...may I inquire as to why you say such? Are you perhaps far older than you appear, or is there something else? If I am prying, I do sincerely apologize...I merely am curious to know, you see."
Crick would then sit on the floor next to Fox...he refused to sit on the edge of the bed while a guest sat on the floor. That would simply be appalling behavior for him to exhibit when entertaining a guest.
Fox was about to tell Crick how he might go about improving his room's living conditions, but then the nice buggy looking fellow said something that sort of caught Fox off guard. He forgot that Crick was still just a human, despite how he looked and humans had a different sense of a long time than the little kitsune did. "Oh, I just said that cause twenty years isn't really all that long to me. I am over two hundred years old now." Fox stated in a matter of fact manner as he curled his three tails around and onto his own lap.
"See?" He asked, pointing at his tails before starting to groom them a bit. Yet once again he'd forgotten that most people didn't know that he grew a new tail every one hundred years and that they could have easily estimated his age by the number of tails he had. Despite his relative age, he was still just a child among his own kind.