It's not the question Cisco expects Hartley to ask, and he actually
has to stop and think for a moment. He hadn't played piano for long, a
year, eighteen months tops, and while he'd been as good as most seven
year olds, the fact that his brother had been a musical genius had
over shone anything Cisco had done, musically or otherwise. He doesn't
remember much from back then beyond how it had felt to be perpetually
in Dante's shadow. "I think I did," he finally answers. "I still like
to sing, and I'm not half bad. I own a guitar, but I mostly just mess
around with it." It's odd that he's never thought about it much
himself, but music must be something he considers somewhat important,
as much of it as he's kept around him without really realizing.
As far as Hartley's flute is concerned, Cisco's having a difficult
time reconciling the tale with the rats with the sorts of things
Hartley has done in the past with his gauntlets. All Cisco knows is
that it's about frequency and vibration, and while that's good for
destroying matter, cracking it or shattering it entirely, he doesn't
know nearly as much about how modulations might work for other
applications.
One thing Cisco does know (or feels, even though he should
know better than to trust anyone without proof at this point)
is that Hartley isn't making plans to return to a life of crime. And,
if for some reason he is, telling Cisco about it now is
probably not his smartest move.
"Are you aiming for something with more precision?" Cisco asks,
lowering his voice a fraction considering their current topic of
conversation. He thinks about Reverb, about a threat he'd made that
makes Cisco believe his own powers could be more precise, if he ever
learns how to control them. Hartley has a lot more control, partially
because he's building his weapons by hand, putting in the components
and deciding exactly how they'll preform, but more so because of his
sensitivity to sound. It's a lot easier to fine tune an instrument
when you can hear fractions of variations that blur together to the
average human ear.
Cisco has thoughts: mind control seems farfetched, but he has no idea
what exact vibrations could do to a person's neurological system,
pinpointing certain things could be possible since different tissues
would be affected at different intensities. But he's not a
bioengineer, and though he's learned a lot from working with Caitlin,
his expertise is definitely not with the human machine.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2016-07-12 04:26 am (UTC)It's not the question Cisco expects Hartley to ask, and he actually has to stop and think for a moment. He hadn't played piano for long, a year, eighteen months tops, and while he'd been as good as most seven year olds, the fact that his brother had been a musical genius had over shone anything Cisco had done, musically or otherwise. He doesn't remember much from back then beyond how it had felt to be perpetually in Dante's shadow. "I think I did," he finally answers. "I still like to sing, and I'm not half bad. I own a guitar, but I mostly just mess around with it." It's odd that he's never thought about it much himself, but music must be something he considers somewhat important, as much of it as he's kept around him without really realizing.
As far as Hartley's flute is concerned, Cisco's having a difficult time reconciling the tale with the rats with the sorts of things Hartley has done in the past with his gauntlets. All Cisco knows is that it's about frequency and vibration, and while that's good for destroying matter, cracking it or shattering it entirely, he doesn't know nearly as much about how modulations might work for other applications.
One thing Cisco does know (or feels, even though he should know better than to trust anyone without proof at this point) is that Hartley isn't making plans to return to a life of crime. And, if for some reason he is, telling Cisco about it now is probably not his smartest move.
"Are you aiming for something with more precision?" Cisco asks, lowering his voice a fraction considering their current topic of conversation. He thinks about Reverb, about a threat he'd made that makes Cisco believe his own powers could be more precise, if he ever learns how to control them. Hartley has a lot more control, partially because he's building his weapons by hand, putting in the components and deciding exactly how they'll preform, but more so because of his sensitivity to sound. It's a lot easier to fine tune an instrument when you can hear fractions of variations that blur together to the average human ear.
Cisco has thoughts: mind control seems farfetched, but he has no idea what exact vibrations could do to a person's neurological system, pinpointing certain things could be possible since different tissues would be affected at different intensities. But he's not a bioengineer, and though he's learned a lot from working with Caitlin, his expertise is definitely not with the human machine.