A collection of Empty Room With A Song scraps from my brain, taken from conversations with barricade on Deviant Art. Note: I can never write just a few sentences. (though I did try…I just failed…miserably) ^_^'

(I am about 3,000 and something words into the next chapter. (I've also started the next Empty Rooms chapter and Innocence is the Forgotten chapter) None of these are part of the story. These have been posted because I haven't updated in ages. I barely edited them so there may be some errors and lots of rough bits, but here you go.)

1. Something Random.

If Walter and Hans took little 4 year old Vlad and 5 year old Anderson to the park, I would imagine the two getting along, playing, rough housing, and then having what would basically be a wrestling match, or a fight of some kind, all cute and clumsy. ^^

Hans would look on, a blank expression, standing next to Walter whose face is equally neutral.

Vlad would roll Anderson over and be on top for a while.

Walter would continue to watch with Hans, neither showing any signs of stopping them while passing mothers stared and gawked and then stopped their own children from fighting with siblings to copy Vlad and Anderson.

With both of their faces still expressionless, with Vlad still on top:

Walter: "... ... ... ...Mine's winning."

Hans: "..." Frowns faintly. But for the most part both remain expressionless. Walter takes out a cigarette and lights it, then slips his hands into his pockets.

Vlad: "Rawrngrrrrr! You! You baby! Y-you're the baby!"

Anderson: "Wahhhh! I'm not a baby! I- I'll hit you! I'm OLDER! I'm- I'm gonna squish you! Into mush! And-and then you'll be crying, b-because you'll be mush! And you'll be sad!"

Vlad: "You're just a baby! I bet- I BET YOU WEAR DIAPERS!"

Anderson: "NOOOO! I don't! I don't!" Sniffle. "Grrr!"

Vlad: "Baby~ Baby~ You~ Are~ A~ Baby~"

Anderson: "Wahhhh!"

Vlad: "And you smell like poop!"

Anderson: "Noooo! Wahhh! I don't! I don't!"

Then they give up, sniffle a bit, wipe their noses, and run off to start playing again.

The adults continue to watch.

Walter looks at Hans. "... ... ... ...Mine won."

Hans: *grumbles in his mind*

(the thing above was little Vlad and Anderson with Walter's and Hans' influence)

2. Integra's Reaction (to a particular band, and note that I actually like this band though it might seem like I don't in this).

Integra would be downstairs, having just finished making dinner. Seras is setting the table, so Integra goes to fetch the boys herself. Calling for them to come to dinner at the bottom of the stairs, she received no answer, so she went to her son's room to investigate, and as soon as she opens the door, she's blasted with Three Days Grace lyrics:

"I~ HATE~ EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU~ WHY~ DO~ I LOVE YOU~!"

She pauses, listens as the same message is repeated again, both of the teens oblivious of her presence as the voice professes its frustrated emotions.

Integra can't help but frown. "That's some lovely music you've got there Alex...Vladimir."

The boys turn in unison, equally surprised. Only Anderson seems to exhibit some nervousness, chewing his lip and hunching over his laptop to quickly kill the music. He cleared his throat and stood up, feeling the uncomfortable weight of his mother's gaze. Swallowing, he attempted to make eye contact without looking like a guilty puppy that had just chewed up and piddled on that morning's newspaper...something that wasn't entirely bad...he had attempted to do it on the newspaper like he was supposed to...

Listening to this music wasn't against any of the rules his mother had set for him. She had trusted him to use his own judgment to determine what was appropriate and what should be avoided. He swallowed the persistent nervousness, unsure whether the song had been 'inappropriate' or not.

Vlad was smiling, having enjoyed listening to music Anderson had just bought off of iTunes, and was walking towards the chief of police, oblivious of her mildly unpleased frown.

She made him stop at the door by failing to move out of the way and asking him a question. "Do you like music like that?"

Vlad's expression twitched, changing into confusion as he lost his grin. "What?"

"It sounded quite angry."

"Er...um...what did? I dunno..."

"...The music Vladimir. The music you were just listening to." Well, he can be my second space cadet, along with Alexander. She sighed as Vlad's features filled with realization and then became slightly confused again.

"Yeah. I like good music."

Unable to agree that what she had just heard was qualified to be called music, Integra shifted her arms, which were already crossed.

Vlad thought, absently, that she resembled a patient, slightly frustrated, teacher at the moment.

"That's what you call good music?"

"Yeah...well, yeah. It has tons of emotion. I like that."

A raised eyebrow said 'Oh really?' but Integra chose to take a different approach. "It's quite different from what you play on the piano. I thought you liked classical music; something quiet, refined...and pleasant."

"Oh. I like all music."

Seeing that she had no ability to influence Vlad's opinion of the song, she stepped back and out of the way to let the pale teen head downstairs to eat dinner. She lingered to watch as her son slowly emerged from his room, clearly unhappy about finding her awaiting stare. He looked away, a bit embarrassed, and an idle hand mussed his hair.

He finally muttered, "I kinda like it...it's not like it's going to make me an angry person or anything... I...I- I really didn't think it was an inappropriate song Mom, but if you want-"

He broke off when Integra turned and began to descend the stairs.

"It's your decision Alexander. Your own judgment."

The teen hesitated before catching up with her, a puppy with his tail between his legs. "So...so you don't like it."

"No Alexander. I. Do. Not. It's not what I call music. ...But you do what you want."

His mother strode ahead as Anderson lagged, a guilty puppy that held back a whimper.

...He would have to stop listening to that song...but the others should be alright. He had bought the whole album, and each song is different, right? Oh well, but he'd kinda liked that one song a lot...

…

He started to hum it, walking into the dining room. He soon scampered off to the kitchen to fetch the drinks he seemed to always forget.

END (of the scraps)