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There is a room, where a man sits alone. A man so tormented by his memories that he cannot even bring himself to touch upon them anymore. Few have had a glimpse into his madness, and even less understand his torture. The sound of quiet music can be heard in the halls of the complex, a low tune. As J. O'Barr put it, "There is a man... playing a violin... and the strings... are the nerves in his own arm"... quite literaly.
A passerby would see the form of a large man, sitting alone on his bed, playing a violin. It was part of him though, branching out from his arm, and at the same time, he was the bow as well. The strings were white as new fallen snow, and the body was greenish blue, matching the rest of his body. He played a slow, quiet, horribly depressing tune, which only reflected his inner demons attacking the walls of his soul.
A single tear welled up in the corner of Tempist's eye, as he played without slowing or stoping.
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