14andseven (
14andseven) wrote in
fandomtownies2013-09-24 02:40 pm
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The Park, Tuesday afternoon
Having spent the last twenty-four hours scoping out the town (okay, so there was that whole part where he'd had to go back to the mainland to find a motel he could actually afford, and then spending the morning trying to ignore the harp's insistence that he come back but the hours other than those), Roland decided the park was his best bet for a good afternoon busk. It was pretty centrally located, and lined with some decent businesses, so it'd hopefully get some good traffic.
And if not, well. He could at least entertain the ducks.
He considered starting with something like "Kashmir", but that was hitting a touch too close to home, just now (seriously, it was still July, 1989 on the mainland, how was it September, 2013 here? At least now he knew he wasn't stuck in the future), so he went with a folk song about an old legend. Maybe somewhere Rebecca could hear it and appreciate it.
[ooc: so very open, indeed. Link to (hopefully) "The Last Unicorn" by America]
And if not, well. He could at least entertain the ducks.
He considered starting with something like "Kashmir", but that was hitting a touch too close to home, just now (seriously, it was still July, 1989 on the mainland, how was it September, 2013 here? At least now he knew he wasn't stuck in the future), so he went with a folk song about an old legend. Maybe somewhere Rebecca could hear it and appreciate it.
[ooc: so very open, indeed. Link to (hopefully) "The Last Unicorn" by America]

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"This is new."
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Roland let out a short, invective shout nearly drowned out by the discordant note he managed to get out of the guitar when he flinched.
They were possibly lucky that he didn't accidentally set something on fire with that.
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"No," he said. Though considering how much magical folky music was in his repertoire, he probably shouldn't be surprised to be taken as such. "I don't even know how to play it, yet. It's a, uh. Recent acquisition."
The harp, thankfully, remained silent.
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Kenzi pulled back to grin cheekily at the new guy, and add, "You too. And I liked that song. Little more old-timey than my usual, though. You know any Voltaire?"
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Not that he did read it. But it might at least have been assigned.
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"So there's a book about the unicorn?" Kenzi hummed thoughtfully. That might be worth reading. For research purposes. "Not that I can hunt those suckers. And hey, live and let live, especially around here..." Internal monologue becoming external, Kenzi said, "I'm Kenzi, by the way. Haven't seen you around before."
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She leaned back on her hands and squinted up at the sun. "Magic storms, those are, I dunno. Every few months or something. Not always a storm. Just something mega-weird. And it's not always evil. Just mind-blowing."
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"So the balance gets out of whack either way and it just kinda . . . reasserts itself?"
Look, he was still new to this whole magic thing. He got to put it into terms he at least partially understood.
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"Being a pony?"
Dammit.
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Of course she knew the answer to that, but it was fun to mess with the new guy. If a little mean. Heh.
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He was assuming they didn't all have magic harps that yelled at them when they tried to leave.
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He shook his head, his fingers picking out a scale on his guitar. "Dunno." He could always ditch the harp, after all. "Guess maybe it's part of the training."
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Roland quirked a smile, shifting from scales to "Greensleeves". "Apparently, I'm a bard."
Yeah, he still had trouble saying that without qualifiers. Ah well.
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Snickering, she said, "For real? That's a thing?... wait, what am I saying, of course it is." She stopped to listen for a bit, then said with only a little surprise, "You are good. That makes you a 'bard'?"
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Then, almost experimentally, he added just a touch of extra energy to it, and a faint, ghostly image began to take shape next to Kenzi, like her reflection bouncing off fog.
It was a hell of a thing to keep up, and he couldn't hold it for long. The image faded back out though Roland kept playing.
"That's what makes me a bard."
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Kenzi tried to touch the image, eyes huge, but couldn't quite make herself make contact. When it disappeared she was staring at Roland with a good bit more respect and a certain amount of glee. "Do it again!"
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That was about as best as he could explain it. Well, other than saying "people are music", which he wasn't sure anyone else would actually understand.
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Anyone other than Rebecca.
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Yes, Roland. Welcome to crazy-town. The food is good.
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meta forFiddler on the Roof.As you do.