Nov. 18th, 2011

whenshewasnice: (Dancing with myself.)
Natalie barely wanted to admit it to herself, but she'd maybe been saving this moment until now. Last weekend didn't count, and she hadn't wanted to do anything over the week when she'd been dealing with the after effects of said weekend. Even though on some level she'd known it could help. After all, there was something comforting about the knowledge that music of her own playing would be available from now on within the confines of her own room.

She took a seat in front of the keyboard, finally. Maybe she'd missed this. More than a bit.

She poked at some of the settings, trying them out until she found the mode that sounded most like the kind of piano she was used to, and then, after a few false starts, she started playing a song. It could probably be heard out in the hallway though the volume was moderate.

You needed to be in the room to notice she was singing along. She wanted to keep that a little more quiet.

[ooc: Post open, door cracked, I'm trying to earworm myself with something other than this.]

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Envy Adams

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