SENSES of DIRECTION don't get LOST [ almond ]

[CHARLIE VON SCHWANSTEIN]

The… library? Why was she here, of all places? She hated schoolwork, homework, and just work, period. Yes, she was lazy. Was she unwilling to admit it? Not at all. Was she proud of it? Not necessarily. Char grimaced, standing in the doorway hesitantly, gripping her bag and not looking forward to sitting down at one of the many tables, cracking open one of those boring textbooks, and actually doing something productive. Strange as it may be, it seemed like a complete waste of time. Or was that an oxymoron? Well, she was learning already.

Blech.

Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she moved to a table at the back and dropped her bag into a chair with a thump. The librarian threw her an unhappy glance, but she was far enough away that the woman would have to yell. In a library, that obviously wasn’t allowed. In a way, that made her grin, and she let her lips curl up as she slid into the chair beside her bag and put her heels on the edge of that chair. She tugged her sketchbook from the bag, including her pencil set and flipped open the former. Char drew for a minute before deciding she wasn’t comfortable.

She looked up. The librarian was busy look at something or other on the desk before her, and no one else was paying attention to her. Butlers were lugging around books for their Ladies. Ladies were studying. But speaking of butlers, wasn’t she supposed to be meeting hers today? She shrugged, tossing that thought out the door and ignoring it. If her Butler wanted to meet her, he had to come and find her. Meanwhile…

Charlie tossed her legs onto the tables and leaned back in the chair, tipping it onto its back two legs as she continued drawing. This was much more comfortable, mostly because the angle of the sketchpad was better for the purpose of her drawing. Not that anyone’s eyes would ever witness the lines that almost drew themselves on the spotless white pages. Her art was private. Always would be. Not even her husband – if she ever got married that was, but considering her mother, she would have an arranged marriage sooner or later – not even eh would be allowed to see these images.

[KENJIRO KUMETA]

Inspiration to Create, Written to Share!

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So much information and ideas to share in a single library. Texts containing obscure historical events, a biography of an important individual, or even fictional stories written by creative artists! Such an area filled with knowledge and mystery exhilarated the young butler. Kenjiro had always been a fan of book in a perfect symmetrical order… Wait, symmetry? Unfortunately, the stories were of no interest to the blue haired butler, the only form of importance from a book came from its perfectly alight text, sharp ends, and even number of pages used. A rather peculiar obsession, but he encouraged order and perfection.

This obsession wasn’t doing any harm! However, it did bring some inconvenience to a few Dewey Decimal supporters. How so? Well, Kenjiro decided to reorganize the books according to length and width without the librarian’s jurisdiction; he completely disregarded the fact that the books were now out of order. Tilting his head to his side, he put his hands out and examined the books one last time before moving on to the next row. To a person who is obsessed with perfection a keen eye for detail is awarded. Commencing his reorganization to the following row of books, a librarian spotted him and immediately scolded him for his misconduct. What did he do wrong? He was just trying to help.

His underappreciated good deed was neglected by the librarian. He frowned when he was forced to sit down next to a few ladies studying. Kenjiro had to meet his lady in a few minutes; it had been somewhat difficult to be hired, especially with such horrendous credentials and barely reaching the minimal recommendations. Eyeing the young ladies from the corner of his eye, he noticed one pulling gum out of her mouth. Cleanliness was another obsession to the butler suffering from obsessive compulsive disorder. Kenjiro moved stood up and grabbed the lady by the wrist before she even stuck the wad of gum under the table.

Ready to scold the young lady for almost vandalizing the table, a fist collided with his face before the words escaped his mouth. Letting out a loud yelp, proceeding with a rather audible shush from the librarians, Kenjiro covered his face and whimpered from the pain. Apparently the lady’s butler had assumed that he was going to violate or hurt her. “W-Wait! You’ve got it all wrong! I was simply trying to stop her from committing a felony!” The panicking butler tried to reason with the overprotective butler before a fight was triggered. Unfortunately, the butler refused to listen to his pleads and dashed toward him.

This wasn’t good at all! What if this misunderstanding led to his dismissal from the institution or prison for his compulsive actions? Anxiety filled the poor butler’s body, his heart raced, sweat trickled down his face, and he felt as if a golf ball was stuck in his throat. He evaded most of the other butler’s attacks while stopping every few seconds to reorganize a row of books on a shelf. After a few minutes of running, he had finally lost the angry butler. Kenjiro wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeves as he slid under a table and covered his head.

Coincidentally, the table Kenjiro selected as his hiding spot was the same table his lady, Charlotte, was currently occupying. Taking a peek out of the table, there was no sign of the butler and he heaved a sigh of relief. A little more and he probably would have had an anxiety attack. The oblivious butler did not even notice his lady’s presence or the bloody nose from the punch to the face. The bloody nose could probably be yet another misunderstanding, since it is usually produced from simply looking at something erotic. In this case, the scenario could be interpreted as the following: Kenjiro snuck under the table to stare at his unexpecting lady’s panties and a bloody nose from such a sight! Definitely not a good way to start the day.

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& tag: Charlotte~!
♥ word count: 669
♦ muse: OK.
♣ music: None.
• comments: Yay! :B

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[CHARLIE VON SCHWANSTEIN]

Self-esteem had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all. It had nothing to do with why she didn’t put perverted thoughts as the cause of the kid’s nosebleed, rather taking it for the most obvious answer: he’d been punched in the face. He hadn’t looked under the table and peaked at her panties. Yeah, who was she kidding? Self-esteem had everything to do with it. Even though her skirt was probably short enough for him to see the panties, and her legs were kicked up just right to give anyone lurking under the table a nice view of her behind, she didn’t think anyone would hide under the table for that purpose alone. And no one was stupid enough to show up beside the table, with a panties-induced nosebleed gotten from the very person occupying the table.

And we were back to Charlie’s lack of self-confidence, despite how she acted. The Lady of Schwanstein to-be blinked at the kid, raising a curious eyebrow at him. Because of the drawing she had been working on, she hadn’t noticed the scuffle at the front of the library, or the fact that he had crawled under the table. If she had noticed, she probably would have thrown a kick or punch in the other guy’s direction. There really was no point in getting that angry over some kid grabbing your lady’s wrist, after all. There was no proof of horrible intent. In fact, chewing gum on the undersides of tables was disgusting, she had to admit that. In a way, the kid had done – or attempted to do – a good deed. And the lady was certainly blushing now. Charlie had to grin at that. Very amusing.

At least the reorganization of books wouldn’t bother her. She didn’t read much herself, preferring the sweeping and curved lines of the art she now held in her hands. She preferred actually looking at the pictures than having to imagine them, hence her usually zoning out when she drew. Her hand was the artist rather than her mind. Any true thoughts about the picture were only formed once it was almost finished, for final touches and critique. Of course, a perfectionist would never understand art. Perfectionists, she had noticed, would strictly believe that no art was perfect, for art was not perfect unless it was imperfect, a fact that no perfectionist seemed able to grasp.

Another thing that could just ahead and join that down the drain was information. Information tended to be useless, trivia. Especially the stuff they taught you in schools. Have of this “stuff” was “stuff” she was never going to use in the real world anyway. She was born into an actual ladyship. She didn’t need Calculus or US History. They were in Italy for heaven’s sakes – why was she even taking US history? She snapped her sketchbook shut out of frustration, dropped it into her bag and crossed her arms unhappily. Why couldn’t life just make everyone happy and be easier for a little while? Oh, that’s right, because one person’s happiness was ruined for another person to be happy.

She grimaced unhappily, rocking in the chair as she pouted. Her distraction had been completely torn from the kid, but as she glanced at him again, she lifted one, strangely pink eyebrow and watched him with warm, reddish brown eyes. “You look like you made a mistake,” she commented, beginning to smile despite herself. And of course, she still had no idea who he was. IN fact, she didn’t think he knew her either. He looked like one of those goodie two shoes, one of which she obviously was not. After all, she broke all the rules she could without being expelled or jailed.

[KENJIRO KUMETA]

Inspiration to Create, Written to Share!

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In a matter of seconds Kenjiro’s eyes watered and lips quivered simultaneously. Not only was he in pain, he was frightened of the ravaging butler who was so intent on murdering him for simply grabbing his lady’s wrist. Now he was trembling uncontrollably; it was definitely a pathetic and humiliating sight, Kenjiro was just glad that his lady was not present to see him at this current state… or so he thought. Taking a moment to relax, he glanced down at the floor and couldn’t help but feel nauseous at how filthy it must have been. Mysophobia was another defect the butler came with and it definitely did not help ease his anxiety. The blue haired butler scampered from under the table and put his arms out ready to cry out in fear of the microscopic germs infesting on his clothing.

A trivial matter to the average person, but for a person who believes perfection and cleanliness is the way to live it is a nightmare! Kenjiro searched in through his coat for a hand sanitizer and luckily had always brought one along for such an occasion. Pouring a bit of sanitizing fluid on the palm of his hand, a sigh of relief escaped his lips as he put the bottle in his pocket and glanced at his pants. It was too late for his pants; he would just have to throw them in the washer when he got home. A strong urge to wash his hands prodded his thoughts, but the public restrooms were just as infested with bacteria. It was that violent butler’s fault! This predicament couldn’t be helped right now, his cell phone’s alarm went off and it was about time to meet his lady. Pulling a pair of gloves from his coat’s pocket, he immediately turned off his cell phone and looked around.

”You look like you made a mistake.”

Kenjiro turned around and frowned when a young girl with pink hair spoke to him. Tilting his head to the side, he really had no idea how to respond to her and wondered if she witnessed the little performance. Unfortunately, Kenjiro had no idea how his lady looked like, all he really remembered was her first name “Charlotte” and that they were to meet at the library. Blinking a few times, he watched the young lady stare at his face… was there something on his face? Although the butler felt pain from the punch, he had overlooked the bloody nose. For a person so obsessed with cleanliness and fears germs, the last place he would want his hands - gloves or not - to touch was his face. Glancing to his side, he closed his eyes and smiled at the young lady, “I definitely made a mistake… I should really learn how to control my hands!” Then again, an involuntary action is practically unlikely to prevent. The pink haired girl was not upset with his intrusion which he was definitely thankful for, but he did disrupt her studies so she was probably waiting for an apology.

“I-I’m very sorry for taking up your time! I’m sure you must be very busy!” He apologized as he bowed four times. Kenjiro’s ears twitched when he heard footsteps a few feet away, he was reluctant to turn around and find out who was approaching him. Closing his eyes, he bowed for a fifth time, this time it was to avoid a fist from behind. Tears streamed down his cheeks when he heard the butler grumble under his breath, there was no doubt about it now… looks like he was going to be late to his appointment. How did the librarians not scold this guy for running in the library?! Before running off once again, he bowed to the pink haired girl once more to make the number of bows even. “S-Sorry to cut our conversation short! But I must go!” He said to her in a calm tone, trying to make it seem that he was friends with the other butler and they were simply playing… or rough housing, whichever worked.

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& tag: Charlotte~!
♥ word count: 683
♦ muse: OK.
♣ music: None.
• comments: ...

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[CHARLIE VON SCHWANSTEIN]

Controlling her hands was not something Charlie was very good at. She was a petty thief after, with a yearning for things that didn’t belong to her, things that were sparkly or shiny. Of course, she always gave them back eventually, sometimes even with a little note of apology for taking it in the first place, but control was not something she really had. If she wanted it, she got it one way or another – in a way, it was a lot like love: you just couldn’t stop thinking about it until you got what you wanted. Charlie’s objects of fascination at this point were his gloves, so white and smooth and clean. They almost seemed to sparkle and shine in the well-lit library as they sat snug on his fingers.

It took a lot of concentration to resist saying “Pretty!” and snatch them from his fingers.

But she was a Lady, both for this school and in actually standing. The title was the reason her mother had sent her here, demanding she learn some manners as well as fair treatment of butlers. Although that was unlikely to happen – the manners at least; treating butlers fairly didn’t seem like a problem yet – Charlie had fought every single moment of her mother’s planning. She had even considered running away and leaving her brother’s behind, but she couldn’t do that. One of them might just follow her and bring her back, either because they missed her or because it was for “her own good.” That was so stupid. Why could she just decide herself what finishing school she wanted to go to?

Either way, she was now stuck here. At least it was Italy. And Milan on top of that. Like realtors always said: location, location, location. The place was simply beautiful. She frequently left the school, actually, to take a walk in town and have some fun. After all, she couldn’t exactly do only homework the whole time she was here. Charlie would so much rather be ditching anyway. After all, since when did you have a class called “Mannerisms 101” or whatever it was? Disgusting. Simply disgusting. But hey, the food was good, she was getting by, and she was meeting her butler today. Hopefully, he wasn’t as up-tight as the butler that had punched this blue-haired kid in the face. It had to be a butler, right? A Lady wouldn’t do that – at least, any Lady but Charlie wouldn’t do that – especially if she could get her Butler to do it for her.

Charlie just liked to finish her fights herself.

Why was he apologizing? The pink-haired girl blinked, sliding out of her chair and dropping her sketchpad, closed, onto the table as she went over to him. Oh – did she look like she was actually doing work? She chuckled, shaking her head and waving a finger in his face, grinning, “Busy? I probably should be,” she admitted, shrugging. “But I’m not. I’m actually waiting for my butler to get his butt down here. If you ask me, it’s a rather strange place to meet.” Again, she shrugged, side-stepping easily as he bowed, barely ducking a fist that came his way. In amusement, she stared at the offending butler, raising an eyebrow. She caught his fist the next time he swung it, smiling sweetly at him as she addressed the blue-haired kid with her words, “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I mean, this one wouldn’t dare hurt me, would you?” The last was addressed to the offender, and she even added a pout and pleading look as she tried to gently uncurl his fist.

She glanced at the kid behind her, asking curiously, “What’s your name anyway?”

[KENJIRO KUMETA]

Inspiration to Create, Written to Share!

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Surprised at how nimble and agile the young lady was, he actually considered her first evasion as luck. He stopped running when he noticed that the offending butler wasn’t chasing after him anymore. Turning around, his eyes opened wide when he watched the pink haired girl catch the other butler’s fist without even flinching. She looked so fearless and strong; Kenjiro clasped his gloved hands together and admired her courage. Tears of exaggeration streamed down his cheeks as he imagined this young super heroine rescuing him by beating up the big bully for him. But wait! He was a butler; it was his duty to protect his lady. Even if the pink haired girl wasn’t his assigned partner, a lady should still not fight!

Immediately sprinting back in between the lady and the bully of a butler, he gently pried her hand off the other butler’s fist. She had a surprisingly powerful grip and left a mark on the other butler’s knuckles. A small grin formed across his lips as he stood in front of the pink haired girl, putting his right hand out. “I can’t be sure if you will be harmed or not. But I will not wait and see what happens.” Kenjiro was actually trembling in fear at what the delinquent butler would do next, but even if he received another punch on the face it was better than getting someone innocent involved. The other butler sneered and raised his hand up, Kenjiro yelped and put his hands out to block the next attack.

There was laughter a few seconds later, he slowly lowered his hands and noticed that the butler was walking away laughing. Kenjiro tilted his head to his side and wondered what was so humorous about making someone cower in fear. Then he turned around and looked at the young lady. There was no doubt about it, the other butler was laughing at the fact that a lady was protecting a cowardly butler. Bangs covering his eyes followed by a rather audible whimper, Kenjiro lowered his head and felt so humiliated. What if his lady saw this pathetic performance?

The pink haired girl asked him for his name earlier, so might as well introduce him and then be in her debt for saving him. “My name is… Kenjiro… Kumeta… And I am Lady Cha…” His introduction had a few pauses and tiny sobs, it made him sound like he had a speech impediment. But after a few attempts at saying his name, he finally managed to state his name and who worked for without any pauses. “My name is Kenjiro Kumeta and I am Lady Charlotte von Schwanstein’s butler.” Staring at the time, he realized he was 10 minutes late to their appointment. Kenjiro frowned and scratched his cheek, thinking how upset his lady was for his tardiness.

Pulling out a bottle of hand sanitize from his coat’s pocket he reached for the lady’s hands and poured a little on her hands. “Sorry… I’m really running late, I have to meet Miss Charlotte before I get into anymore trouble. P-Please sanitize your hands, you did touch that other butler’s filthy fist!” He bowed to her politely and put the bottle back in his pocket as he was ready to run off. Kenjiro stopped for a second and looked at the young girl with a big smile on his face, “I’m very thankful that I came across a nice young girl like you! I really hope my lady is just as brave and nice as you!”

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& tag: Charlotte~!
♥ word count: 591
♦ muse: Meh.
♣ music: My Sharona by The Knack.
• comments: ...

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[CHARLIE VON SCHWANSTEIN]

Innocent was not what Charlie or anyone in her family would describe her as. Outlaw, perhaps, mischievous if it were her brothers, maybe even childish, from her later father. But never once would they call her innocent, unless sexual situations were being spoken about, a sense in which her brothers were surprised enough that she was completely inexperienced. Not only was the pink-haired tomboy a virgin, she also lacked her first kiss. That didn’t stand to say whether she understood innuendoes: no one could tell from her blank expressions. But violence-wise, she was probably more than experienced.

That experience was what enabled her to step in so quickly. But when the butler returned to peel her fingers from the other’s, she blinked simply and released on her own. What was he doing? Did he want to be punched again? Apparently not – the butler was leaving, laughing his head off. What was so funny about someone like Charlie protecting someone like this kid? She was ten times tougher than him to say the very least, and the butler was laughing. Her face flushed scarlet as she glared, tempted to run after him and teach him a lesson that could earn her a few detentions or even a suspension. Not that it wouldn’t totally be worth it.

But then the kid was hiccupping and crying and looking like he was about to fall apart. Sympathy colored her features, and she placed a gentle hand on his back, murmuring, “Just slow down, kid, slow down and take a deep breath.” She smiled gently, until her name fell from his lips and she froze. This little guy was her butler? He had to be kidding. He couldn’t stand his own spot and she had to protect him, and he was her butler? Honestly? Her lips pursed in narrow lines and she informed him tightly, removing her hand, “Charlie. I prefer Charlie.”

And then he was pouring sanitizer onto her hands – she rubbed them together from instinct, listening as he spoke. She was ready to fix the little mistake, ready to smile and try to get along, when that last phrase slipped from his mouth. Her eyes were set ablaze and she grabbed his color, pulling him to her level and demanding in a low, hissing voice, “What did you just call me? What did you just call your Lady?”

[KENJIRO KUMETA]

Inspiration to Create, Written to Share!

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Apparently dreams and wishes do come true! Kenjiro was overjoyed to discover that the brave young girl was his lady. He clasped his gloved hands together and had tears of joy stream down his cheeks as he hopped in place. Yes, he completely repressed any thoughts of humiliating himself in public. Instead, his mind was completely locked on his dear lady, Charlotte! Pulling out his notepad from his coat’s pocket he began to scribble down that she preferred to be called “Charlie.” A cute nickname for a wonderful young mistress like her!

“Alright, Charlie it is! I’ll be sure to remember it, m’lady!” Kenjiro replied happily, turning the page to start asking her questions. These questions revolved around his lady’s favorite food, music, hobbies, and extracurricular activities. Just as he was about to ask the set of questions, a rather tight grip on his collar proceeded by a rigorous yank downward. Kenjiro blinked a few times and was surprised by his lady’s sudden change of personality. She was angry? He closed his eyes and took a moment to think of what he could have done to upset her. Could it be that she did not approve of him? The blue haired butler frowned and wondered if she did not like him because of how cowardly he acted when the other butler bullied him.

“What did you just call me? What did you just call your Lady?”

The words came out of the pink haired lady’s as if she was utterly insulted by his compliments. Kenjiro put his hands up and smiled slightly, “'Nice'?” He was practically taking a guess, but he really did not know what irked her. Was the word ‘nice’ an insult in her country? “I-I really have no idea what I said wrong! P-Please, m’lady! If I said something that upset you have all the authority to punish me!” He immediately gave up the guessing game and instead pleaded for mercy, but for some reason he sounded like he approved of being punished. His lips quivered and his heart raced just by staring into Charlotte’s eyes.

Kenjiro lowered his head and was prepared to endure the pain he expected her to inflict upon him. Kenjiro was paranoid, not a masochist, though his fantasies on how she would punish him were a little questionable… an example being handcuffed to a bed post while his lady harshly whipped him to submission. Waiting her response was rather terrifying, but at the same time exhilarating, he was uncertain if she would forgive or hurt him. He was just happy that he met his lady… even if she did have a short temper.

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& tag: Charlotte~!
♥ word count: 441
♦ muse: Boo~
♣ music: Hishoku no Sora by Kawada Mami.
• comments: Not much to work with. D: And very sorry for the delay!

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[CHARLIE VON SCHWANSTEIN]

The kid was crying again, although this time he looked happy. Happy? Why on earth was he happy? Yeah, she was his Lady, blah blah blah, but that didn’t call for a happy reaction. In fact, he’d gotten himself landed with a very temperamental, very grouchy, and very tomboy Lady. The term “Lady” did not fit Charlie no matter how you turned it about. Especially because of her reaction to that one little word, that one moniker that had her face almost matching her hair. How she hated it, how she hated anything to do with that word. But then, he couldn’t have guessed that it was just that word that she hated so, could he? He couldn’t know how angry it made her.

His guess softened her features somewhat, replacing anger with surprise. Nice? Why was he guessing nice when the word that had angered her was “girl”? Of course… most of the human population didn’t care whether they were called a girl or a boy. The problem was that Charlie did care. She hated being associated with the wimps who couldn’t germs or dead things, the idiots who fussed with their hair for hours on end, only to change it because they didn’t like the outfit they picked out a few moments later. She hated being compared to that. Hated that in all actuality, she was one of them, and there was very little she could do about it. Of course, the pink-haired noble would never get surgery to change her gender, but she would probably end up cutting her hair short so she would appear less of the thing she hated being so.

Charlie sighed, gritting her teeth and releasing his collar. He didn’t need punishing, although it was rather a very satisfying option that he had brought it up himself. In truth, it was a little funny at the same time. He had no idea what was wrong, and he was willing to let her hurt him to make her happy again. It was kinda cute. She ruffled his hair, smiling a little and saying sternly, “Don’t ever call me a girl again, understand?” She raised an eyebrow, waiting for his consent before she intended to move away and go back to her drawing. She wasn’t exactly sure how she should view this kid, whether as simply a coward or just some lost little puppy who had been kicked one time too many.

[KENJIRO KUMETA]

Inspiration to Create, Written to Share!

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Unsure of when exactly his lady would strike him, he flinched every 10 seconds just to be prepared for pain. To his surprise, she released his collar followed by his hair being ruffled by her hand. He bit his bottom lip and tried to ignore any paranoid thoughts of germs being transferred to his hair from his lady’s hand. He heaved a sigh of relief when he was reminded by the fragrance of his hand sanitizer that Charlotte had indeed had disinfected hands. A small grin formed across his lips when she warned him in a stern tone about calling her “girl.” Kenjiro tilted his head to the side and wondered why such a word offended her. “Understood, I will do my best to avoid upsetting you!” he reassured Charlotte as he bowed to her twice out of respect and to make the number of bows even.

Closing his eyes and keeping the same joyful grin, Kenjiro was certain that his young mistress was going through that tomboy phase. Undoubtedly, she was the same age as he was, but his previous employers often complimented on how mature he was for his age. Kenjiro had experienced everything in the past and was now a veteran sharing an exaggerated story to younger kids. He was practically an old woman trapped in a 16-year-old boy’s body, which would explain his love for cleanliness and the classics.

Even if his lady preferred dressing in masculine attire it wouldn’t really bother him, but he would definitely oppose of her going as far as change her gender completely. She was a very beautiful girl, it was a shame she was not pleased with her appearance. Luckily, Charlotte would have to eventually give in to her feminine needs when she meets a nice young man who would care for her and treat her like a princess. Of course, she would have to fall in love first! Then she will be beginning for make up, a nice dress, and a cute hairstyle to impress the boy~! Kenjiro placed his right hand to his cheek as his eyes sparkled, imagining how adorable his lady would look in girl’s clothing. Did a motherly figure just invade Kenjiro’s thoughts?

Blinking a few times, he noticed a small sketchbook on the table his lady was occupying earlier, he was curious as to what she was working on. Could she secretly be interested in fashion design, but is too embarrassed to admit it? The pink haired lady was definitely hiding something and Kenjiro was now definitely interested in finding something girly about her. He clasped his hands together and chuckled, “I suppose I should just call you ‘Charlie,’ correct?” he asked his lady, a little uncertain if she was just offended by “girl” or any other counterpart related to that specific word. “Also, if it isn’t a problem… Could you please explain why you dislike that word?” Kenjiro questioned the young girl nervously, as he eyed Charlotte’s sketchbook for the second time hoping she would be willing share her art with him.

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& tag: Charlotte~!
♥ word count: 509
♦ muse: OK.
♣ music: None.
• comments: ...

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