Rook glanced up at the bar, his anger at his failure still crackling across his steel features. He watched Perry leave, his fingers moving across the keys. Change the song - nice, smooth and-
And then another mechanical discord, and his temper and pride flared like fire. He couldn't play worth a damn tonight, the Wyrd and the Board battered against the core of his self, until he couldn't find the notes and the numbness of steel took command of him.
His teeth clicked together as he fought it. Fought, and fought, and fought until the music came clean again, soft, subtle notes that echoed through the bar.
This would be the last song for tonight. He was too frustrated. If he kept playing, he might well end up losing control and damaging the instrument by pressing down too hard with his rigid fingers.
After this, he was going to find Anya and spar with with her until he bled.
Failure, rerolled for one success... the Metalflesh is having a bad day