Logs:Out of Harmony

Out of Harmony
Dramatis Personae Chloe, Harm, Gaétan	2021-01-23 "Didn't figure jam sessions for a popular activity at finishing school."
Location <XAV> Music Room - Xs Second Floor
Wide and spacious, seating in this soundproofed room comes largely on the sweep of gentle risers that afford the teacher an easy view of all the budding performers, and add another dimension to the acoustics of the room. Instruments of all types are carefully stored around the room, and a grand piano, immaculately upkept, takes the position of prize near the back. In a nod to the eclectic studies of the students, digital mixing equipment and turntables rub shoulders with the classical instruments. Music stands sit in front of most of the seats, and the only windows look out out over the side of the school grounds. The windows currently show grounds blanketed by a cloud-covered sky, though the gloomy mood is not quite reflected inside the room. Seated alone at the grand piano, Chloe is currently dressed in a cream-colored sweater dress with a deep scoop in the back of the neckline to allow for her wings and black knee-high riding boots. A black wool scarf draped over a nearby chair that holds her Paris Saint-Germaine backpack. She plays through Tchaikovsky's ‘January’ clumsy at parts but with some skill. Nevertheless, there is the smallest displeased grimace at stumbled over keys, her wings buzzing behind her while she pauses – takes a breath – replays the messed up stanza and continues. "-- but I'm kind of thinking now it should be somewhere fancier if I have, like, a blank check," Gaétan's words precede him into the room but cut off just a moment after he enters. His eyes flick toward the piano and Chloe's buzzing wings, his head ducking in something that kiiind of approximates apology -- admittedly he doesn't look all that chagrined as he slips to the side of the room, grabbing a colorful cloth guitar case from where it's been left in the corner. He's casually dressed in a long sleeve blue and white raglan shirt with the words "Once More" in cursive script above a simple graphic of a "repeat play once" symbol, medium blue jeans much worn and faded at the knees and cuffs, and chunky black and white canvas skate shoes. There's a small frown on his face and at first it seems like he might just head back out but he stops, grimaces, eyes flicking to the scattered music stands. "Have you seen a girl around who --" He cuts himself off again; the shift of his eyes between Chloe, her backpack, back to the piano, is quick enough to be easily overlooked. "Sorry, nevermind, you probably wouldn't know her." Harm is in a loose knitted rainbow sweater over a soft pink turtleneck, black jeans, and pink platform sneakers, a satchel made from bicycle inner tubes over one shoulder. "Fancy like, the waiters wear tuxedos fancy?" they say, sounding almost as impressed as intimidated. They also shush themselves as they come to the door, brushing overlong bangs out of their eyes to peer at Chloe, hazarding an embarrassed smile before dropping their gaze. The hard mandolin case they heft from where it had been leaning beside Gaétan is black, underneath the myriad colorful stickers. Their brows wrinkle a little when the boy stops mid-question, but they don't disagree, glancing instead out the window as if expecting to be able to pick the girl in question out from such a distance among the kids playing outside. The notes of the piano soften and slow as the other two enter. Chloe doesn’t look away from the sheet music in front of her but her awkward awareness of them comes through in the tilt of her head following them around the room. It’s only when Gaétan speaks that she turns wide black eyes to him, notes fading away as she comes to a stop. Her expression dims when he cuts his question short. “No, I... don’t seem to know many people yet,” she answers, before giving Harm her own embarrassed smile. “Hi Harm. I like your shoes.” Her gaze drops to their cases. “I’m sorry, did you have the room reserved for something? I didn’t mean to intrude.” "-- Right." Gaétan offers a casual shrug of one shoulder in answer to Chloe's smile. "Give it time. Probably not even that much, school's -- only so big." He's hitching his guitar case onto his shoulder backpack-style when Chloe's question brings him up short and confused. "What? No. Do people do that? Reserve this room for stuff?" By the flick of his glance this question is clearly directed more toward Harm than Chloe. "You can play bass pretty much anywhere so that sounds way unnecessary but I guess --" Now he's looking to the piano again with another assessing glance. "There's only so many of those around." The lift of Harm's slender eyebrows is surprised. "Maybe if you really need the room for some kind of project you could get a teacher to reserve it?" They don't seem overly concerned at the feasibility of this, though. At the compliment they look briefly perplexed, then glances down at their shoes and blushes. "Oh! Thanks! I -- like them." The blush deepens and they hurriedly return to the topic of the room. "The um, acoustics in here are great, but I'd still rather play outside if the weather's alright for it. Anyway we weren't jamming or anything, just looking for --" They break off, glancing quickly at Gaétan. "-- for this girl." Then, clearly recognizing this is an awkward thought to end on, they add, perhaps not very helpfully, "She plays violin." Chloe’s wings flutter as she shrugs. “I don’t know about here, it was something at my old school. If you wanted guaranteed practice time.” Her fingers idly play up the scale. “I guess that’s the main problem with having a stationary instrument. I’d need a completely different set of powers if I wanted to play this outside,” she tries to joke, a weak smile momentarily appearing. It’s replaced by some confusion at Harm’s stumbling over words, but she politely ignores it and answers. “No, I haven’t seen anyone with a violin. It’s a lovely instrument, though, do they play well?” Gaétan's brows furrow with a very faint flicker of irritability as Harm continues to elaborate, but it's gone from his expression nearly as soon as it came. "Huh?" comes out very bemused, though, at Chloe's last question; he only blinks, doesn't answer it. "There are smaller electric keyboards. If you want to take them outside. Not so fancy but definitely more portable." Harm blushes again, though not so deeply time. They glance down distracted, smoothing over the edge of a sticker on their case that's starting to peel up. "I guess fancy keyboards are a whole different kind of fancy from..." They gesture vaguely at the grand piano. "Oh yeah, some kids do practice here, but I think maybe...between being such a tiny school and all of us living here anyway, it's just not enough traffic to need reservations." “Oh, we’re allowed to take school instruments onto the grounds?” Chloe asks, eyebrows rising in pleasant surprise. “I’ll have to do that sometime, thank you. I don’t mind how fancy it is as long as it plays well.” Smoothing out a wrinkle in her skirt, she glances to their cases again. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you in your search, but if you would ever like some piano with your jamming. It sounds like it could be fun.” "Gotta sign 'em out but you can take things for practice, yeah." Gaétan is starting for the door now, but stops short at Chloe's offer, his brows lifting. He blinks at the piano, his mouth twitching to one side. "Huh. Didn't figure jam sessions for a popular activity at finishing school. Uh -- maybe. I'm gonna go look for my --" Whoever it is, he doesn't finish saying. Just bobs his head, and slips back out the door. "It's nice, I like being able to play around with different instruments, you know." Harm's expression remains neutral, and they give a small shrug at the offer. "I try to encourage as much jamming around here as I can, but it doesn't seem to be a thing classical musical training prioritizes?" They give a small, friendly wave and follow Gaétan back out the door. “I’ll remember that the next time the sun is out.” The hopeful expectation on her face dims, shoulders dropping as the duo set to depart. “Good luck with your search,” she offers to an already empty doorway. She returns her hands to the keys of the grand piano, back straight and fingers poised--and with a hissing sigh of frustration, presses down everything underneath them in a discordant jumble of noise.