Want to be God, the Devil, like me?
Distraction. It was a time when Mars and Bart could sit there and appreciate the differences between the two. While Bartholomew could swim, Mars could play music. So on and so forth. Bart sat in silence out in the overgrown yard to the right of Mars, whom had his eyes down on his guitar, his ears totally focused on what he was doing. He listened to the simple rhythm that he was working with. He was imagining a chorus of people singing in the background, drums playing. He got into his playing so much that it wasn't clear to him what was going on around him. He easily got lost on different planets, and that's where Bart could come in if he was really determined to have control of the body. Mars was in full control at the moment though, just because he had such strength in the song that Bart was actually fully enjoying the male playing. Mars.. the male called out to the other. You have company. The other didn't understand between the singing of the thousands of other voices and the distinct voice of the male who was closest to him. Bartholomew's voice faded away after awhile, drown in the thousands of voices that had invaded his mind for the seconds that he was playing. He always counted things in seconds by the way. There weren't minutes, hours, only seconds. There were days, weeks, months, years, but when he was talking about how many seconds he had been playing, or how many seconds he had been doing this and that. Never minutes, or hours. It made him feel like he was doing things longer when he counted in seconds.
It wasn't until Vox had nickered lightly that Mars had gotten slightly distracted. The large beast had moved along his peripheral view, he continued to play, but his tune calmed down suddenly, though the transition seemed like it would be natural, and done intentionally. Mars, Company. Bart let the words run from his mouth again as he looked out towards the woman whom had been squeezing her way into the gate and approaching the porch. Soon, she was up to him, and he finally looked up. Hey! What is that? the woman spoke, her hand reaching out to touch his guitar. Audits fell back on his head as quickly, probably quicker than he ever before and his lips lifted lightly as he moved the guitar out of the young woman's reach. Not only had she come up here uninvited, but she tried to touch his things without asking. He smoothed out his face though, and shook his head lightly. Just....don't touch. the Californian spoke to the woman, his voice flat and calm, though cold. He never meant to be cold at times, it was just nature sometimes. You have no social elegance. This is a new place you know, Mars. Bart let his thoughts intrude into the thoughts of Mars, who grumbled lightly. Sorry... he offered a quick apology. My name is Mars Russo. I'm new to Cour Des Miracles. Who are you, young lady? he asked, being on his best behavior for the moment.
Mars talks Bartholomew talks