Logs:Can't
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| RL Date: 1 August, 2015 |
| Who: Ebeny, M'vyn |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: M'vyn and Ebeny visit the Harper Hall in search of music. |
| Where: Harper Hall, Fort Area |
| When: Day 4, Month 6, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Celestra/Mentions |
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| M'vyn had made the request for new music nearly two sevens ago and has lost patience with waiting for the delivery to be made. It's early enough in the morning that the Hall is bustling with activity when he and Ebeny arrive. Apprentices dash from one place to another, laughing, calling, cheering each other on as classes are changed. Journeymen walk with more control to their step, though even some of them are moving with the hurried pace of one not wanting to waste time. M'vyn takes it all in with a narrowed gaze, his jaw tightening as a few hail him as they pass. He doesn't require an escort to the room where most of the Hall's music is stored. He pauses beside a table and speaks quietly with the archivist on duty. She directs him to a shelf and then leaves him and Ebeny to look over the newer music stored there. "Let's pick more than one song to make a copy of," M'vyn tells Ebeny as he makes a grab for a sheaf of music. "I'd rather have enough to use than having to rely on them making a delivery or us coming back." Though, as ever, Laurienth behaves as if she owns the place, it's clear that Ebeny is not so comfortable within the Hall, for she moves through corridors with her gaze more or less fixed on her own feet, shoulders hunched, following after M'vyn like an obedient child. It isn't until they're left on their own to do what they've visited to do that she really looks up and around at where they are, rather than try and pretend it isn't there. "...Maybe one or two things that are older - ones that the Weyr isn't so familiar with?" she suggests to add to the newer music. "In-case they do get around to sending you the more recent selection? Otherwise, we'll just have copies and copies of things we already have." "Oh, I'm going to make sure to drop word with the Master I made the request of that his apprentice - or journeyman - or whomever was supposed to follow through didn't," M'vyn replies with that stiff arrogance he seems to have fallen into once they've entered the Hall. He glances around the room and then narrows in on Ebeny with a shrug. "You can collect whatever you think you'd like to sing. We can take it to a table," he waves his hand in the direction of the rear of the room, "And make a go at singing a few to see if they truly suit our needs." He takes a step to the left and reaches for another bound volume. "If we find something that needs a chorus, perhaps we can work with a few others - residents or riders - to stand up and start singing with us." He continues on down the aisle, pulling out and flipping through different selections with a quick glance. It's debatable whether Ben hears anything that follows after the prospect of singing, or if she remembers anything that came before it, for she freezes right where she is and it takes her a half-minute or more to reanimate and draw nearer to M'vyn again. "...I can't-- I can't sing here," she utters in a hushed whisper that does little but convey how aghast she is at the very thought. She fails to realise that she's not looked at anything yet, nor considering gathering music. "I'm not a Harper. They'll laugh at me. I don't belong here." The Weyrlingmaster flaps one arm towards the shelves. "You choose. You know better than me. I'll go... wait outside." M'vyn's brows furrow as he looks at Ebeny, traces of frustration clear in his demeanor and tone as he steps forward to prevent her from fleeing. "You don't have to be a Harper to sing and all of the people here know that very well. Some of them can't sing either. We've got artists, archivists, teachers. There is more to being a Harper than singing. And there is more to singing than being a Harper!" He blinks a few times prior to shaking his head, letting loose a whoosh of a breath as he looks back to the aisle. "I brought you here because I value your voice and I value your opinion. I want your help." He glances aside at her, lifting a brow, "Are you going to fight me the entire time we're here to get it?" Ben is not the sort to just shove someone out of the way, but she ends up right in M'vyn's space before she achieves a proper halt and hisses, "I'm not any of those things!" in a sudden burst of anxiety and frustration that has her forgetting that she is at least one of the things on that list. "I'm not fighting you. It was silly to think that I could do this at all, and this is just one step further into the delusion, especially when I have two classes of weyrlings back home!" She won't push past him, nor try to sidestep and escape that way, and so she takes a step back instead, like she could stare him down. "I can tell you whether I like the music or not, but I can't tell you anything else," is a blatant denial of what technical skill she's worked for. "I have not been training and working with you for all these months to have you tell me you can't do something," M'vyn's reply is close to showing his patience is fraying, though he manages to reign it in enough to keep his facial features bland. "You're very talented. When you stop denying this fact and embrace that you have a voice, and an ear for a tune, and are learning the broader scopes of music your life will be easier." He is more inclined to change the subject so he hands her one of the volumes in his hands to occupy her own and hopefully stall her from another attempt to flee. "There is a room that this is connected to that is small and meant for examining sheet music and singing. My favorite one hosts a handful of gitars and a harp. You don't have to sing in public. Compromise enough?" he asks, looking at her with a sterner expression that hints her answer had best be yes. "I used to be very good at can't," Ben insists more petulantly now, her shoulders hunching higher in some futile attempt at protection from the surroundings that have her spooked. Her fingers automatically close around the volume she's handed, if only so it won't fall to the floor, and the next moment finds her hugging it defensively to her chest. She glances about, like she'd locate the door to the aforementioned room and protest that sound leaks, yet the only further argument she provides is, "It's not about public. It's about here." It still sounds like a half a plea for him to understand she's not good enough, though she turns before he can lose his temper or she has a meltdown, and just about manages to make it not look like flouncing off, as she moves to browse the shelves. M'vyn watches her move off and lets her have the space her wandering provides. He turns around and goes in the opposite direction, distracting himself by looking into older volumes for tunes he remembers from his time at the Hall. Time seems to pass in an uneventful way as he moves around, reviewing, humming, and setting aside or returning volumes. They continue to be undisturbed by any others that wander in and out of the archival space. When a half hour has nearly passed, M'vyn moves around the room in search of Ebeny. "All right," he tells her as he closes the distane between them. His temper seems to be in better control as he stops beside her. "Do you have some you're interested in?" If one can hide when not being actively sought, that's exactly what Ebeny does, much of her browsing confined to corners of the room and the occasional dart towards shelves boxed in by other shelves. She's not terribly sure about any of it, says the manner in which she handles what she selects, but by the time M'vyn seeks her out again, she's got a stack of shorter volumes that she's chosen from, and though some of them are newer things, she's selected others that are more poetic in terms of how they deal with their subject matter, rather than flat accounts. "Here." She offers them to him like she'd rid herself of them as quickly as possible. "...There are some about Impression... a couple of romances..." M'vyn nods his head, not taking her offered songs. "Come on. I've reserved that room. We can more easily flip through the songs and pick exactly what we want to copy to bring home." He lifts his own arms to indicate the thicker stack he's got gathered together. "It'll take us a while to see what we want. We can take the time to copy a handful, or we can leave them with the people who work here. They'll make copies for us." He turns then, expecting Ebeny to follow as he heads confidently down the aisles. If he gets any passing glances by others that are lingering in the aisles he takes no notice of them. The room when the enter is small and has a cozy air to it. He settles his stack down on the table and grabs a gitar from a peg on the wall. He gives it a few knowing twangs of the strings before he nods his head and moves to claim a seat. "Impression? That'd be good for us to have. Are they solos, duets, do some have choruses? I grabbed songs that may encourage others to sing along with us." Ben makes a low sound in her throat when she's not relieved of the texts she evidently doesn't trust herself with, but she follows after without comment, head ducked to avoid the gaze of any who stare. She stays leaning against the door to that room once it's closed, still hugging the volumes to her, and only little by little does she eventually begin to creep across the space, so that she can set the music down on the table. "Some duets," she replies, casting a look towards the door. "One has a part that's supposed to be a dragon's response. I guess it'll depend on delivery as to whether it turns out comical or moving." Without looking through them again, she hazards, "...I don't know. Some of them might be too feminine for your tastes." M'vyn gives her one of his rare smiles, amused enough by her last statement to openly show it with the flash of his white teeth. "Is that so? Let's look at those first." He inclines his head towards the chair across from him. He situates himself on his own chair in such a manner that he can use his lap to hold part of the larger gitar. He seems to be doing much better with her hesitancy than when they first entered the Hall. M'vyn is clearly at ease as he focuses on tuning the knobs and toying with the settings of the gitar. "Have you ever talked to the Harper at Fort now? The archivist? I haven't taken the time to speak to her. It might not be bad to have one more trained voice with us at night." He seems satisfied with the gitar and he twitches his fingers at Ebeny. "Music?" The request for the music is answered first, and Ebeny quickly flips through one of the volumes to one of the more romantic ballads she's found, the lyrics of which are a little on the flowery side even for poetic. "...I've not really seen anyone or anything beyond the weyrling complex and my weyr for the past few months," she admits. "Except for when we sing, and then I'm not really looking at anyone." She retains the lyrics for herself, though shuffles the music across to M'vyn. "She might not want to sing with the likes of me," the greenrider utters wryly. "But no, I haven't spoken with her. Does she sing? I mean... since you said that not every Harper really does..." M'vyn takes the music and gives it a thorough look as he listens to Ebeny. He taps his fingers on the body of the gitar a few times, feeling out the cadence of the tune. "Oh? She might not. I guess I'll ask her. But let's stay focused here. I don't want you to start telling me you won't be able to sing with me any longer if I bring on another Harper." He doesn't look at her as he says this and he seems intent on distracting her from an answer as he counts quietly, "One, two, three." He begins the opening of the song with deft fingers and remains focused on the music, waiting for her to sing the lyrics that she holds in her hands. Ben looks towards the door again and is staring so intently at it that she falters on the first line, her voice nearly not audible at all, and has to wait a bar or two to pick it back up and plug the right words into the melody. She's still quiet as she does as she's bid, far from the proper belt that she's capable of, even when the music requires it, yet she does get through most of the song without faltering so badly again. "...I think I'm going to like the one about Impression better..." she murmurs. "Especially after... that green. And--it took me so long to accept Laurienth, I feel like such a hypocrite sometimes..." She shrugs and squares her shoulders, blush creeping across her cheeks. "And then there are times when I say really stupid things to former weyrlings and lodge my foot in my mouth." Like now. M'vyn is kind enough not to press her to raise her voice, he's satisfied with her attempt and seems to be willing to compromise on the how of her singing today. He leans back in his chair, settling his gitar more casually as he looks to her. "I hated what Elsyth meant and I hated her for a long time. I'm sad that now we get along she's changed. She's cold, mean, aloof -- she's taken on all the worst qualities of myself. But," he shrugs, rifling through some music nearest him. "That's how it worked out. Where is that Impression song? Let's give it a go. If we practice it this seven, maybe we can play it next and we can invite your weyrlings to come." He glances at her, tilting his head in a feline-like appraisal of her. "Because don't you think they'd benefit from such a song?" "But you get along," is half-echo, half something else, near plea to the world itself for it to be true. "You're not mean." Statement, not question, Ben's opinion presented only for what it is, her tone one that doesn't invite anything to the contrary, nor is it one meant to placate or humour. "...Laurienth will rise soon. She rarely does, now. I can feel it... I thought it was being in this place, but it's--more. I hate it. She turns me into something feral." And so she hastily goes hunting for that Impression song, which will undoubtedly present the whole affair in a more positive light than she can. "I think the weyrlings might benefit from it... and I think they'd think I'm ridiculous," she agrees and half-argues in one, but she still hands over the music while retaining a copy for herself. "Do you want to be the dragon or the new rider?" M'vyn looks genuinely surprised at Ebeny's stating he isn't mean. "You don't think I'm mean," he reiterates that point, needing to sound that out for himself to wrap his head about it. "Laurienth will?" he continues on another train of thought, giving her a more thorough examination. "Let's go through this song once then and we'll request copies of the rest. We can go through them later back at the Weyr." It would seem only a proddy green will allow Ebeny to leave the Hall. He reaches for the music and glances at the notes, humming it a few times and then nods. "I'll be the new rider. I think the dragon's voice will suit your range more than mine." He gives a few strums of his gitar and looks to her. "Ready to begin?" True to his word, once they've gone through the song twice he returns the gitar and gathers all the music in his arms. He makes a brief stop at the desk where the archivist is making her notes and requests the copies to be sent promptly. Glares are exchanged and then M'vyn takes Ebeny out of the Hall without further delay. If he has to return to the Hall in the coming days, he doesn't require Ebeny to join him. |
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