<div class="bbImageWrapper lazyload js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="http://i1108.photobucket.com/albums/h410/mslc1again/resizedimage.jpg" title="resizedimage.jpg">
<img alt="resizedimage.jpg" class="bbImage lazyload" data-src="http://i1108.photobucket.com/albums/h410/mslc1again/resizedimage.jpg" data-url="http://i1108.photobucket.com/albums/h410/mslc1again/resizedimage.jpg" data-zoom-target="1" height="" src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" style="" title="" width=""/>
<span style="display: inline !important;"><img alt="resizedimage.jpg" class="bbImage" data-url="http://i1108.photobucket.com/albums/h410/mslc1again/resizedimage.jpg" data-zoom-target="1" ec2ai1guz="" height="" src="http://i1108.photobucket.com/albums/h410/mslc1again/resizedimage.jpg" style="" title="" width=""/></span>
</div><br/><span style="font-size: 22px">Otto Hindel</span><br/><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#1e90ff">"Ah, you're a Norwegian? That might explain the hair, I think."</span>He leaned forward at the booping of his nose, nibbling a bit on her finger and smiling at her. As he nibbled, he thought. What next? What did he remember? Hmmm. He studied her, grinning widely. She was rather gorgeous if he did say so himself. There was something alluring about her. Kind of like a hook, though he couldn't explain it. The hair maybe? He didn't know. He didn't quite care either. He was having fun, enjoying himself. After all, living as long as he had, he'd figured that was kind of a key thing to not dying of boredom. Or sadness. Speaking of, he knew his next topic.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#1e90ff">"I used to play around the world, with quite a few well known composers. All for the simple reason of saying that I have. Somehow instead of saying names, I just group them all into 'composers', hehe, imagine that!"</span>A hand went up and started moving with the rhythm of some unknown song, seeming to have a mind of it's own.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#1e90ff">"I used to fight, but not so much. Mind you, breaking bones wouldn't really affect my ability to play, but it certainly doesn't feel nice."</span>He booped her nose again, his finger lingering there for a little bit as well.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#1e90ff">"Now you. Though I'd like to know something specific. You said you never gave music a chance really? Why's that?"</span>