milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Robinton's at the piano, slowly getting the hang of chords.

Something resembling a 'melody' is beginning to form, as well.

But a story would help.

Masterharper available- have at!

[ooc: edit/summary- The Masterharper and the Forsaken Bard talk. Asmodean succeeds in scaring the harper to death. Zedd and Robinton discuss the availability of music, and Liz Imbrie stops by for *cough*slowtime*cough* more examination of the harper's hands.]

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Robinton listens, eventually sliding into a seat.

His eyes, which had been focused on the Bard's hands, to better understand, slide shut and he simply surrenders to the music.

And to the memories it brings.

As he finished, the bard turned his eyes towards Robinton.

"I hope it met with your approval, my lord."

Robinton doesn't answer.

For a long moment he remains still, knuckles whitening where they clutch the edge of his chair.

Finally, in a quiet, level voice:

"It was wrenching."

He considered for a moment. A touch of a smile on his lips.

"You are very welcome."

Robinton unclenches his hands, and opens his eyes.

"I shall never hope to have such skill."

He considered for a moment.

"At my age, I should aspire to nothing less."

The bard looks to be in his late twenties, perhaps early thirties.

But Robinton's been around for a few days. Met a few corpses, a few vampires.

"And what would that be, sir?"

He thought for a moment.

"Slightly over three hundred and fifty years, but I lost track a few years ago."

"I see. Counting past a certain point becomes redundant, I suppose."

He takes an unsteady breath.

"And you play other instruments?"

He thought for a moment.

"I play the harp, flute, the piano, the corea, the balfone, the shama, among others."

He recognizes only three of the above list, but smiles when he does.

"A wide range indeed. Masterharper Robinton, honoured to make your acquaintance."

He nodded calmly.

"A pleasure making your acquaintance."

A small smile.

"I am called Jasin Natael, and am simply a musician."

"A 'musician'?"

He frowns, perplexed.

"I've not heard the word. What does it refer to? Harping?"

He shook his head.

"It means a creator of music."

"On my world, we're called Harpers."

His eyes drift back to the piano keys.

"Perhaps you can explain- why is the scale off on that instrument? The increments in tone, they are uneven."

Asmodean tilted his head slightly.

"The scaling is different than that of the harp. It is such with many instruments."

He sighs, and his eyes drift to the harp case still sitting atop the piano.

"I see. Frustrating, but necessary, I imagine."

He shrugged slightly.

"Such things often arise in instrument construction..."

He nods, and leans back in his seat, his eyes drifting to the 'musician's' hands.

"And in all things, I imagine."

The bard's hands are rather delicate with long fingers. They move with precise movements, and a deadly grace.

"Indeed."

Robinton watches them closely, easily picturing them on a harp.

Or on a knife.

He doesn't reply.

A small pause.

"The bar will provide you with music if you so desire."

He looks up, mildly surprised.

"The written scores? I didn't know that was possible."

He nodded calmly.

"Bar, may I have the score for Hungarian Rhapsody by Franz Liszt?"

A copy of the music appears.

Robinton gently picks it up, immediately reading the first few lines.

"This is... unusual. Like nothing from my world."