The first thing Dietre did upon waking was check the network. Seeing himself get covered in garbage was mortifying, of course, but it seemed that was the worst of what awaited him. It was a shock to discover that they had all just barely escaped punishment. A very pleasant surprise to be sure. Relieved, he carried on with his usual morning routine. Shower, pills, and dressing for the day. He anticipated nothing sinister. In fact, he was almost hopeful it would be a good day, better than yesterday. But he was wrong.
The piano was always his first stop. Bastien was supposed to meet him for breakfast and Dietre was looking forward to having some pleasant company, but thought he could fit in a few pieces before the Frenchman arrived. Imagine his horror when his fingers pressed down to play the opening chord of Claire de Lune only for a jumbled cacophony of sounds to rise from his touch.
A gasp and he jerked his hands away as if burnt. He held them against his chest for a long moment as his heart raced with dread. Then, with a single finger, he pressed a key. A dog barked. He tested another; the sound of a toilet flushing…
Dietre suddenly stood, the abrupt movement so violent he knocked the piano bench over.
“No…”
One after another, he tried all of the eighty eight keys, his despair growing with each ridiculous sound they produced. Once he confirmed that the whole piano was altered he burst into bitter tears, weeping as if at a loved one’s funeral. Why? Why had he been punished when everyone else had been rewarded!? It wasn’t fair! Anger, panic, fear. He felt them all, but the enormity of his grief eclipsed them.
Like a lost child, he lifted his arm and covered his eyes with the crook of his elbow and sobbed, inconsolable.
Poe also took the opportunity of a quiet morning to go about her normal routines. There was no full moon to worry about immediately. There was no agenda to follow of booze and destruction. She'd even gotten a chance to snuggle the night before, even though she couldn't be sure where she and Daisy stood right now. Poe didn't even take the time to look at the network as she bustled downstairs. There was one food item she'd now been craving since last night and thankfully for everyone in the immediate vicinity it did not require any type of cooking whatsoever. There would be no fires today. At least originating from Poe.
Spying a jar of marshmallow creme next to the peanut butter and the Nutella, Poe breathed a sigh of relief. She'd been in college when she realized that the fluffernutter was not exactly well-known outside of New England when her roommate had given her some serious side-eye when she began slapping both between two slices of Wonderbread for her late-night study snacks. Since it was the morning, Poe considered adding bananas to her sandwiches, but no. She was going to spoil herself. And since nobody seemed to mind, she made half a dozen sandwiches to snack on throughout the day. Like the classic peanut butter and jelly, they made excellent emergency (or not so emergency) rations. There was even some plastic bags she could store them in so she wouldn't end up with crumbs at the bottom of her purse.
The next order of business was to stop in at the Library to see if there was any Jane Austen books she could borrow. She missed having something to read at night and returning to an old favorite sounded like a good idea. As she crossed the foyer, Poe couldn't help but notice Dietre sobbing next to an overturned piano bench. She paused, unsure if she should say anything.
Since the first day she had met him in her canine form, Poe had kept her distance. She hadn't realized that he didn't know she was a weredog and then felt awkward and uncomfortable about the entire matter. But she'd enjoyed the music, even the snatches she'd heard during as she moved about the tower. And he looked so upset. Surely she could get over whatever discomfort she might have to be a decent human being.
"Are you alright?" She drew closer, checking to make sure he wasn't bleeding or hurt in some way. "Are you hurt?"
He did not know how long he stood there crying into his sleeve. Maybe only minutes, possibly hours, time no longer made sense. The cold hand of terror was slowly closing around his heart. What was he going to do now? He had only been able to handle this tower because he had the piano to lose himself in. It was a lifeboat in an angry sea. How was he going to survive without it? Even trying to contemplate it caused him to tremble.
A sympathetic voice nearby drew his attention away from the defiled instrument. Dietre lowered his arm, face streaming, and attempted an explanation, voice strangled by tears. “T-The piano…” He pointed to it as if the woman should somehow be able to see the problem.
Of course she couldn’t. Luckily, Dietre's words managed to come back to him after a minute or two of him standing there trembling, pleading eyes fixed on the woman’s face. “They’ve done s-something to it…”
Poe drew closer, teeth worrying her bottom lip as she peered in the direction of his pointing finger. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with the piano from what she could see. No scratches or dents. In fact, the only thing wrong was that the piano bench was turned over. Righting it, she made a gesture for Dietre to sit as she looked at the piano again in the hopes that she might spot what had the younger man so distressed.
"I really appreciated your playing the other day." She said as she tried to remember back to the handful of piano lessons her godfather had given her before she lost interest. Though honestly, could Poe really even call them lessons. They were ten minute sessions at most as she admired the piano in his front room. The room they only went into during Christmas. She reached out to one of the white keys and pressed it.
A cow mooed.
Poe jumped slightly, not expecting it. A nearby key made a farting sound. And so on. Well then. She turned her head slightly to watch Dietre continue to sob. It was beginning to make sense. "I'm sure it won't be permanent. Like when the temperature was all wonky. It went back to normal the next day." Was that a slight note of desperation in her voice? Poe would never admit to it!
Taking a seat next to Dietre, she made sure that they were not touching in anyway. He had not invited her into his space and she didn't want to overstep. "Would you like something to eat?" Poe pulled a second sandwich out from her purse, offering it to him. "We can figure out what to do in the meantime."
Dietre sat, hands white knuckle gripping the edge of the piano bench on either side of himself. He did not know what she referred to, his thoughts were too all over the place. Fighting the mounting terror he felt took most of his concentration. Again and again he asked himself how he was meant to endure this place without the piano? He didn’t think he could do it. Meds wouldn’t be enough. And so he was afraid.
The mooing brought on another sob. It was like he was being mocked. He almost thought it’d be better for the piano to be gone entirely instead of reduced to this.
The woman’s attempt at optimism gave Dietre a faint flicker of hope. He wiped at a cheek, though fresh tears continued to fall. “Do you… really think so?” Could the piano be back to normal tomorrow? He could survive twenty-four hours. It’d be hard, but... Maybe.
In his current state Dietre was highly susceptible to suggestion. He didn’t have it in him to make his own decisions. The woman offered food, so he nodded, eyes glazed, and held a hand out to take the sandwich she seemed to have materialized from thin air.
"I do think so." Poe nodded and pressed the sandwich further into Dietre's hand, pulling a napkin from the purse and passing it along too. Nobody liked crumbs down their front. "Pretty much everything they've done has lasted a day or less." And there was power in remembering that. Just one day. She could survive just one more day. They all could.
Waiting to take another bite of her sandwich until her companion had made a move to eat, Poe hummed to herself quietly. She was always excited to share some of her favorite things with others. But she didn't want to come off as too excited. Dietre seemed to be in a bit of a state of shock. Poe had to be gentle with him.
"Have you spent time anywhere else in the Tower?" She asked after a few quiet minutes of chewing. "I know you have shared a lot of beautiful music with us recently. There's a music room, but I don't think it has another piano, unfortunately. "
Sandwich in one hand, napkin in the other, Dietre listened without eating. He wanted to believe what he was being told. Hope was a double edged sword, however. It could sustain him through today, but if she ended up being wrong, it’d destroy him tomorrow. Maybe even kill him. There was only so much a person could take, and Dietre was obviously not the most stable. It wouldn’t take much to break him.
Dietre felt she was waiting for something. The sandwich. He blinked down at it, only just remembering he was even holding it. He did not investigate its contents before mechanically taking a bite. It's sweetness surprised him, his brow furrowing slightly. It was more like candy than a sandwich. Very odd.
Sniffling now instead of outright crying, he gave the woman a listless shrug. “I have been to the library, the kitchen… And the theatre, but I did not watch the movie…” He had only gone there on the night of the full moon because Yasiel told him to (not that he’d admit that out loud.)
“...I don’t care to see the music room if there is no piano.”
Americans liked sweet and the fluffernutter was just one more illustration of that. Maybe Poe should have thought about what others' taste buds might be used to before she started handing out sandwiches, but since he did not seem to object to it, she tried not to feel too bad about the assumption. Polishing off her own sandwich, she wiped her fingers and waited for Dietre to eat his. In the meantime, she tried to ponder what they could do.
Her eyes drifted to the library. That had been her original destination, but such proximity to the piano may have unintentional side effects. What if someone started hitting the keys where Dietre could hear? He might just start sobbing again, which might make him feel self-conscious.
"Well," Poe said, "as it turns out I missed the last movie night so I'm pretty sure I'm overdue for watching something, if you would like to join me." While she could probably physically drag him with her, that wasn't her style. It was far easier for her to smile and cajole people to do what she wanted.
"When I'm not feeling my best, I like to curl up and put on a favorite film. I have some extra blankets in my room and we can grab snacks from the kitchen. It's the perfect recipe for an easy, relaxed day." She got the sense that Dietre was not much of a talker and she'd have to carry most of the conversation, but it was something she was willing to do. She didn't like seeing him so upset.
While the sandwich was strange, it was not offensive to his palate. Dietre continued to eat between his sniffling, albeit with care once he discovered how the sugary goo stuck to his skin wherever it came into contact with it. There was a lot of potential for mess, and Dietre did not like messes. Especially not on his hands. As a pianist, he had to be very careful of his fingers.
“Um…” Movies were not a form of entertainment he had much interest in. He hadn’t seen very many. His father thought of time spent in front of a television as time wasted. However, right then Dietre would have agreed to just about anything. “...Alright,” he murmured, then took the final bite of his fluffernutter.
“When I’m not feeling my best, I play the piano…” With that, he gazed mournfully at his desecrated love, fighting back a fresh onslaught of tears. Poe was wise to decide to get him away from it, otherwise everything was just going to lead his thinking back over to the fact he couldn’t play it. A perpetual circle of sadness. Out of sight wouldn’t necessarily mean out of mind for him, but it’d sure help.
She couldn't be sure if that was what Dietre actually wanted to do or if he was just agreeing with her because it was easy. She couldn’t be sure if it really mattered in the first place. Once he was done with the sandwich, she held her hand out for the used napkin and stuffed it in a pocket to be dealt with later. Since the kitchen was right there, Poe turned towards it, beckoning for him to follow.
"You can't watch movies without snacks. So we'll grab some of your favorites, okay?" And as long as they didn't require actual cooking they would be fine.
There was also the matter of what film to watch. Fantasia might appeal to him, but it also might start another fit of crying. Sleeping Beauty was also rejected for the same reason. The Little Mermaid? No, Ariel lost her voice and that may be hitting too close to home about losing music. "Have you ever seen Beauty and the Beast? The animated feature, not the live action one." She began poking through the cabinets for snacks that she thought might appeal to Dietre. She'd noticed how particular he had been when eating the fluffernutter. So that left Doritos or flavored chips completely out. "The music is lovely."
Snacking was not one of Dietre’s usual activities. Remembering to eat anything at all to begin with was hard enough, eating random little things between meals? It just didn’t happen. He would have considered his obligations toward his stomach complete with that one fluffernutter, but it seemed he was not going to be allowed to get away with that today.
“...I don’t have favorites. You can pick what you like,” he advised as he got up to follow. Dietre’s lack of appetite always made him a nightmare for anyone wanting his opinion on food. It would be easier to just put things in front of him and tell him to eat.
“No…” He stood listlessly to the side as Poe searched through the cabinets. It wasn’t until she mentioned music that he seemed to show any signs of interest. “There is music?” He tilted his head, “What sort of music?”
"Music a little different from what you play." Though Poe tried to think if she had ever heard a strictly instrumental version of Be Our Guest and couldn't remember. Hopefully Dietre wouldn't get too turned off by the full-scale Broadway belting. "There are songs that you can sing along with and great instrumentals. Well, I think they're great, but my musical sense is pretty much stuck at appreciation-level. I have no head for playing any instrument. Piano or otherwise."
Since he seemed happy enough to follow her around, Poe took a chance and patted his forearm. She kept her touch brief and gentle, in a place she thought many wouldn't take for anything but friendly. "If you don't like something. Just tell me. My feelings won't be hurt. And we can try something else."
What that something else was, Poe wasn't sure, but give her enough time and she'd figure something out. In the meantime, she gathered up the variety of snacks (determined to find something Dietre would like), and headed to the elevator. "We'll stop off at the theater and let you get comfy. I'll run up to my room and grab the blankets. Okay?"
Poe didn't wait for a reply as she pressed the button for the second floor. As long as Dietre allowed her to usher him away from the piano and keep him occupied for the next several hours, that's all that mattered. And if he saw her cry during the Beast's transformation, well that was only fair.