fandomtownies | Groovy Tunes, Wednesday

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Groovy Tunes, Wednesday

Today was another one that was difficult to place musically. Eleanor grabbed CDs in piles of six or seven at a time, but ended up returning them after only a minute or two. Soothing music didn't fit her jangling nerves, and upset music just made her feel worse.

Maybe she'd put on some of Aunt Grace's music and have done with it.

(FLEEING back to work so SP is in effect until later tonight zomg)

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Ichabod had walked past Groovy Tunes many times, and had grasped that the shop sold some kind of recorded music, but more than that he didn't know. For some reason he was feeling adventurous today, so he entered the shop.

He stopped in the doorway, trying to take in the sounds being played. If this was the music of this time, he wasn't entirely convinced.

[SP, please!]

All right, Eleanor did not know what 'humps' this girl was singing about -- and singing was a charitable interpretation, really -- but she didn't want to know what was going to be done with all that junk, all that junk in someone's trunk. This CD was definitely a no.

It was only once she'd switched to a new disc that she noticed that someone had entered the store.

"Hi," she said, brightly. "It's Ichabod, isn't it? We have class together."

Yes, Eleanor. Because when Celia had pointed him out for your approval, the two of you had been very discreet. Giggling and pointing in no way made him think that you were talking about him, say.

(I THOUGHT I HAD PINGED THIS, BUT I HADN'T. SO NOW I HAVE? I AM EMBRACING THE SP WOOO)

"Good afternoon. And you are Miss Eleanor, if I remember correctly? And a friend of Celia's?" Because he had noticed being pointed at, yes, but that was no reason not to be polite.

He looked around the room, not entirely sure what to make of the small boxes with colourful illustrations on display.

"I am, to both," Eleanor said warmly. Okay, her friendship with Celia was in a weird place right now, but that was assuredly temporary. This weekend hadn't been either of their fault. "Have you come to the music store before? It's rather fascinating, but a lot to take in."

Especially given the technological changes, that was.

"This is my first time," Ichabod replied. "I understand that there are recordings of music in this time, but I am unfamiliar with both the technology and the music." He looked at Eleanor. "Perhaps I could be so bold as to ask for an introduction."

"An introduction you shall have," she said, warmly. "Which fascinates you more, the technology, or the music? If there are composers of whom you are fond, I might be able to find some symphonies."

She could explain the science while he appreciated some concertos. Win-win.

"I believe the music itself is of more interest," Ichabod replied, offering a warm smile in return. "And while I wouldn't mind hearing examples of contemporary work," although that which was currently was playing wasn't too inspiring, "I'd very much like to listen to something familiar. Not long ago I heard a symphony by a young Austrian composer named Mozart. Is he familiar?"

[And sorry for extreme SP!]

"Very much so," Eleanor said, skirting her way through the aisles to find the Classical section. "I don't suppose you remember the name of the symphony? If not, we can try to find it from amongst this chaos. Or introduce you to something new of his you might be fond of."

"Symphony No 8, I believe, but I wouldn't mind hearing other works by him," Ichabod replied, following Eleanor. "And the music is stored in these boxes?"

"I'm fond of Eine Kleine Nachtmusik myself, but that might not be out yet," she added, wandering through the rows. "Essentially, the music is captured on small discs. Engraved into them, as if one's writing down the sounds. The discs are put in special players that can release the music again."

She was already tearing open a CD case to show him one of the shiny silver discs inside.

"Here," she said, holding it out to him by its edges. "Careful not to smudge it, or that might make it skip."

(And absolutely no worries on the SP! My week's been crazy, too. No rush. :D )

Edited 2014-08-17 00:01 (UTC)

He accepted the disc with extreme care. It looked fragile, and he didn't wish to break it by accident.

"I would not mind listening to piece you mentioned," Ichabod said, smiling at Eleanor. His first impression of her - kind and intelligent - made it no surprise that she was Celia's friend.

And her impression of him -- that he was polite, sincere, and intellectually curious -- made her all the more inclined to think favorably of her friend's choice in romantic partner.

"Let's try that out first," she said, making her way back to the CD changer behind the register. "We'll bring along the eighth symphony, as well."

She noticed the way he was holding the disc and gave him a quick smile. "Don't worry," she added. "The discs are hardier than they seem, and they're inexpensive at that."

"Oh," he said, looking at the disc, not sure what to do with it. Eventually putting it on the counter, he followed Eleanor. "Is this kind of music still appreciated then?"

"Appreciated, very much so," Eleanor said. "Orchestras still play these selections quite frequently. Some people pride themselves on their love for symphonies. It's seen as a bit high-brow compared to other musical delights."

Ichabod looked pleasantly surprised. "I am pleased to hear that the music of the past is still enjoyed. What do you prefer to listen to yourself, miss Eleanor?"

"It varies," Eleanor admitted. "I took this job partly so I could discover some of the music I've missed. I'm time-displaced myself, though not nearly so drastically as you are -- a few decades, in my case."

She offered him a light smile. "I had an aunt who sang the blues," she said. "In a lounge, I mean. She was quite popular. And she'd sing them for me, so I ... those are my favorite songs."

She may not have told him that had he just been any other customer. But someone this dear to Celia could be trusted with secrets like that.

Appreciating such a personal memory, Ichabod gave a warm smile and a nod in reply. "I'm afraid I don't know what 'the blues' is, but I can understand why you appreciate the songs."

"I could play a bit for you, if you like," Eleanor offered, placing the current disc inside the player. "After this. What is it that draws you to Mozart, if I may ask?"

"Please, I would enjoy that," Ichabod replied. "As for Mozart, I found his music both elegant and new, and it was hard to imagine the composer was such a young man. I certainly hope he had a long life in which to develop his talent."

"I ... don't recall how long Mozart lived," Eleanor said, frowning as she tried to consider it. "Though I shouldn't tell you even if I did know, as that sort of thing is more fun to discover on one's own."

She pressed play, and the light swells of the Allegro passage of Eine Kleine Nachtmusak (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qb_jQBgzU-I) filled the room.

"There are orchestras that still perform these works," she said. "You could take Celia to attend one."

She hoped that wasn't too forward, to suggest. And that her friend would enjoy an evening listening to Mozart.

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Groovy Tunes, Wednesday

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