Re: log: dietre a. & daniel w.
Daniel waited again before acknowledging the piece complete, and then put both of his hands around his wine glass in a most ungentlemanlike manner so he could sit back and ponder. He didn't look at Dietre's face, or the dog (whom he might otherwise have shown his teeth, just because). The dark eyes stared off into space for several seconds while Dietre's words fell like unnecessary stones in the background of a storm. There was another pause, of course, and then Daniel looked back again at Dietre's face. "You should write more," he said, decisively. "Though the first was superior to the second in complexity. This one was too much like your Poe. Repetitive." He said it rather tonelessly. "Though beautiful, for its simplicity. The first had some feeling to it, I thought. Intensity." Daniel glowed with some of that himself, as he lifted one hand and made sharp cutting movements in the air with his straight fingertips. "A kind of madness. It was very good."
He pointed his other hand at the keyboard, apparently seeming to forget that it held a mostly empty wineglass. The drops that still circulated the bottom threatened to catapult upward as he punctuated his sentence. "This electric thing echoes too much. You would sound far superior on a real instrument. One of those massive, glossy things they make nowadays. We should find you one of those, and you should sit at it to better accentuate your voice."
Having pronounced his opinion with all the authority of a lecturer, some of the energy seemed to go out of Daniel, and he went back to his languid pose against the edge of the couch. If there was a surface to discard his wine glass, he did, so he could fold his hands over his stomach and lower his eyelids again in soporific attention. "It costs much less for one to critique than it does to create," he said, licking his lips for no apparent reason, "and it is well done. Play something else now, that you may enjoy yourself, and I will go when you are tired."