It makes Clark laugh, just a little, enough for Bruce to feel as much as hear the thrum of it.
"They do have music, actually," he says. "It's a little—well."
He straightens up, relieving the weight of his skull off of Bruce's skull, but arms now draped on broad batshoulders. "Computer, play Threnody-72 of Zistra Va-Rel, please."
And there is music. Long mournful sounding notes from alien instruments—string based, maybe—and the recording of a female voice. Vocalisations are mixed with coherent words, and words are even broken into parts, scattered, ordered. This one is pretty in spite of the strangeness, which might explain why Clark remembers it.
no subject
"They do have music, actually," he says. "It's a little—well."
He straightens up, relieving the weight of his skull off of Bruce's skull, but arms now draped on broad batshoulders. "Computer, play Threnody-72 of Zistra Va-Rel, please."
And there is music. Long mournful sounding notes from alien instruments—string based, maybe—and the recording of a female voice. Vocalisations are mixed with coherent words, and words are even broken into parts, scattered, ordered. This one is pretty in spite of the strangeness, which might explain why Clark remembers it.