The gentle lull of the piano, played with deft and determined fingers, sounds out through the echoic corridors. Knives' hands work fast, accurately, playing a song far easier for two yet somehow with such grace he easily could play alone. The shriveled forms of Plants decorated the room, and even as he hears someone enter, he seems not to care for their presence until he reaches a more intense part of the song. A low hum escapes him as he glances over his shoulder, "Oh... You again. Come in."