Haunted. Yes, that would be the explanation given by anyone who were to pass by the theatre at the wee hours and discover the sound of a piano playing from within. But the Ghostbusters would not have any luck under these circumstances. Actually Buffy would have been more effective.

Before the stage and in the orchestra pit was the old, remarkably in-tune, grand piano that was used for most of the productions that ever took place in the theatre. It was old, but in extremely good condition which gave a bit more character to the pieces which were played upon it.

Carnivale had taken a piano lesson nearly every single day of his life, but, since he was no longer alive anymore, he hadn't had much practice. So, deciding to do something about that, he had caught the theatre's pianist as she was leaving and had a light snack of her neck and entire chest. As he was licking her ribs clean, he had snapped off both hands and shoved them into his pockets. Her mangled corpse still lay in a heap just outside back door, waiting for the caretaker's arrival the next morning.

The aged vampire was currently sitting at the grand piano, playing a soothing melody that was reminiscent of Flight of the Bumblebee, but his fingers were not touching the keys. Oh no, they were far too busy. Far too busy holding the wrists of the pianist's hands as they once again moved over the white and black keys of the piano. Carnivale watched them move gracefully... and smiled.

It was cold, so cold out there in the street. Varien wandered unsteadily, his bare arms wrapped himself. He was completely unused to the freezing winter weather, having always had his inner fire to keep himself warm. His large eyes, though bright, were half-closed and staring dejectedly at the pavement. Though the emotion did not show on his flawless face, he was glad that it was night time; it was less crowded, more peaceful.
Then, as Varien walked past the old theatre building, his lightly tufted ears perked up at the faint but constant sound of music coming from the building's interior. Being an apprieciator of music of all sorts, Varien decided to investigate; at the very least the theatre would provide some warmth.
Varien stumbled slightly as he changed direction, and for a moment he walked as if wanting to drop onto all fours, before straightening up and awkwardly shouldering his way through the main doors and into the building.
An acute sense of hearing led Varien ever closer to the drifting, haunting tune. Then, finally Varien found himself stepping out onto the stage...and beheld the vampire...playing a piano...with a severed pair of hands...
Varien blinked slowly, and sniffed. He was not in the right state of mind to be afraid, at least not yet. He was also not in the right state to be bothered trying to make sense of the situation he had just walked into. The dragon-turned-human was currently sick and tired of trying to comprehend the world around him, and so he just stared blankly...

Carnivale continued to play, slowing down the music and beginning to sway. He had almost forgotten how wonderful it was to make music and he suddenly felt the urge to pick up the tempo. Which was precisely what he proceeded to do. He paused for a moment, fixing his grip one the pianist's hands and then started moving them faster across the keys.

Only vaguely aware of the other individual in the theatre, Carni continued to concetrate on the music, body moving awkwardly with the quick-paced rhythm of the Tarantella. The fingers moved continuously as if they were still attached to their respective wrists.

After taking a good amount of time to take in the vampire's strange appearance, Varien's line of vision slowly moved to the dismembered pair of hands in Carni's own hands. For a few moments longer, Varien watched the hands as they moved expertly across the piano keys as if with a life of their own. After a while, Varien finally spoke,
"Do you bewitch the hands because you yourself cannot play?"

Carni smiled and slowly turned his upper body to face Varien. He did not answer, in fact he did not utter one word. He merely smiled rather oddly while he continued to move the hands across the keys. The Tarantella slowly grew faster and louder, echoing eerily through the empty theatre seats.

The slightest of frowns clouded Varien's flawless features, as if some of his dragonly impatience was creeping back into his wavering spirit. He sighed tiredly and tried a different question,
"Can you not speak?..." Varien sniffed at the air. "....Vampire?"