driftfleet | Libuscha IV System Mingle (no. 1)

[Lup's been spending a lot of time hanging out in taverns herself, scoping out the food, listening to local performers where music is being played, and when she's not eating she usually has her violin out of its case to pluck along with the tunes, sheets of paper sprawled out in front of her for note-taking. She's in the middle of jotting some things down with it tucked against her shoulder when she spots Connor in the same tavern, and she waves in his direction if she happens to catch his eye.]

[It's in a moment where Connor puts his communicator down, no closer to figuring out what the purpose of those chiming notes are, when he notices Lup waving at him from a few tables away. He's kept a low-level awareness of the area but not bothered to do any intensive scans, feeling relatively certain nothing abruptly terrible is going to happen.

He recognises her of course. Straightening up in his chair, he raises a hand in reply. Connor stows his communicator back in his pocket and makes his way over to where Lup is seated. Apparently he's gone shopping since they last met - his clothing is much more suited to the weather now, and absent of any 'ANDROID' stamps and lights.]

Good evening, Lup. You play the violin?

[She smiles and reaches out to tug some of the papers into a neater, more compressed pile, making room at her table if he wants to sit and hang for a while.]

Surprise, I do! You like music at all?

[Connor pulls out the seat opposite, sitting down across from Lup.]

I don't know. I haven't really listened to much of it. [He peers over at one of the top sheets of paper Lup has collected.] The Lieutenant plays music in his car sometimes, which is the most I've heard.

Edited 2018-12-12 10:40 (UTC)

[She spots him checking the paper out and slides one in his direction so he can get a better look; it's literally just sheet music, messily scribbled notes and chords on lined paper.]

Well, the only way to figure out what you like is to listen to a lot of different styles. What kind of music did he play?

Dark heavy metal. I believe he also likes jazz, but he hasn't played any of that while I've been present.

[Connor taps the sheet of paper, curious.]

Is this your own composition, or notes on what's being played in this tavern?

Ooh, I dig it. The loud stuff can be fun if you're in the right mood for it.

[She leans slightly more classical for the most part, but she can appreciate a good drum beat.]

I've been replicating the band music. I'm kind of rusty when it comes to composition, so this is good practice. Plus keeping sheet music for new songs is important- carry enough songs in your head and sometimes the notes can start to blur.

I have to admit I don't know what mood really suits it.

[Hank was always, well, pissed off when playing his music. And just pissed off in general when Connor was around.]

Is that easy to do when there are several instruments in play but you only have one yourself? [Keeping things straight in his head isn't a problem for Connor, but music is out of his usual ambit.] Given our stay will be temporary as well, it's useful to keep a copy of the music for later.

Your mileage will vary, there. There's no right or wrong way to listen to music- it's all in how you feel about it.

[She grins, idly plucking at a couple of strings, imitating a bar or two of the song she's compiled.]

It can be tricky, but if you know what to listen for you can pick out the parts you wanna focus on. Take practice, is all. But it helps that the violin has a pretty distinct sound to it.

[With a considering hum, Connor leans back in his chair.]

I don't know that either. That sort of thing is new to me in general.

[Even as he says that though he has to wonder what the expiry date is on that. Being new to feeling. He's been in the Fleet for nearly a month now, a significant part of his lifespan. It's exponentially more time than he'd had at home as a full-fledged deviant. If only there was a user manual for this sort of thing.]

It does, yeah. When did you learn how to play?

Mm, let's see... must've been about sixty years ago, give or take a few. Used to be too busy back home to play a lot, but I always like to have one around for musical emergencies.

[Okay, that has him tilting his head quizzically.]

I'm sorry, but what counts as a musical emergency?

[All the emergencies Connor is adept at tend to be violent or murderous. He can't see how music factors into those kinds of scenarios.]

[She grins.]

Music is life, my dude. It's a way to communicate emotions to people when you don't know how to say the words. Music's love, hate, joy, anger, all the good and the bad. A music emergency is, like... when shit goes south and you're feeling down, the right song can ease your troubles just long enough to figure out what's actually wrong with you.

[Huh. Connor wouldn't call himself well-versed in the arts. Quite the opposite - the last few times he'd listened to music he had been a machine still, and had no real sense of enjoyment in it. He could identify the patterns of the genre and look up details if needed, but the feel of it had been entirely lost on him.

It occurs to him now that there's no reason that should still be true. If he bothers to listen.]

I've never thought about it that way. I didn't really know anyone who played music at home, so ... it's never come up.

You really feel like that when you play?

[Her expression shifts, complex and nostalgic and hard to decipher. She's smiling, but there's something sad about it, too.]

I do. Not all at once, of course. That'd be too messy even for me. But songs can connect you to moments in your life- maybe where you heard it the first time, or maybe when something happened to you while it played, good or bad. Music can speak to your soul, conjure up memories whether you want them or not.

[Her fingers pluck gently at the strings, playing a couple of bars of a soft, slow song.]

[He tilts his head. There's more going on here than he's able to grasp, but there's one thing for certain that he feels he can speak to.]

You're very passionate about this, Lup.

[She scoffs, a brief pause in her play as she affectionately gives the body of the violin a light pat.]

Passion's important! If you don't give a shit about your art, no one you share it with will feel anything. It'll just be noise to fill the silence.

[She'd seen a few passionless projects come and go back at Legato- slaved over for hours and hours and then just forgotten forever when Fisher and the family devoured it without rebroadcasting. Passion wasn't a guarantee of success, but often it made a huge difference.]

Yeah... [He considers the violin again, resting his chin in one hand.] I suppose I can see that.

[Not as far as his experience with art goes; that's something he's still encountering fresh. But the sentiment behind Lup's words applies to other things. He knew the difference between doing work because he was told to, and doing it because he cared about it. That same difference had come over Hank towards the end of the deviancy case. No one would have accused Hank of being passionate before that.

He'll need more exposure to music before he really knows what he likes. Thus far, he's been far more preoccupied with the strangely musical chimes in the background of the communicator, even while sitting in this tavern as other musicians play. That thought reminds him of what he was doing before Lup waved him over, and he straightens up a bit.]

Speaking of music, have you noticed the background noise that comes from the communicators on this planet?

Hell yeah I have. It's been buzzing like crazy since we got close, and it's even stronger on the planet. ...Well, okay, not buzzing. It's actually kind of a nice sound. Familiar, kinda cozy. Can't decide if I like it or not.

[She considers her violin carefully for a long moment, adjusting her finger position, then plucks a single note, the sound long and lingering- it's high-pitched and soft.]

Between this and the magic tingly-winglies, this place has me running on Fantasy Red Bull 24/7. This place is weird.

It's definitely melodic. [Even Connor can pick out the difference there, can trace the tune of the notes and know it isn't random. It can't be.] It almost resembles a radio frequency that bleeds into others.

[It isn't, though. There's no discernible source and it only comes from devices like the communicators. Connor himself can't pick it up with his own audio processors, no matter how much he boosts capacity to that area or scans the surroundings for transmissions.

...and that's when he slightly loses the thread of what Lup is saying. Somewhere between tingly-winglies and Red Bull. After a moment's baffled silence he responds carefully.]

I don't know if it's fair to comment on the normality of an alien planet. [Then he shakes his head minutely.] But I have to agree.

Take it from someone who's seen loads of different planets- some are weirder than others. This deffo leans towards the weird side of the equation.

[Not as weird as Jello Town, but pretty up there.]

I've tried tracking the source, but no such luck yet. The signal's carrying loads of interference that makes the pathway harder to follow.

Yes, I've found the same thing. I can't trace the origin either. It could be that I'm not compatible with the source technology.

[A constant yet irritating possibility out here in space. Connor pulls out his own communicator, eyeing it critically.]

Or it's something else entirely.

Judging by how the rest of the planet feels, I'd guess more magic than not. But it's obviously tech enough to mess around with our stuff, so who really knows.

[She's not an engineer or a communications officer on this particular voyage, so her options of investigating it are somewhat limited to the magic side of the equation.]

Someone must.

[Because there must be someone who does. Whoever they are haven't made themselves known, though, so here they are theorising in circles.]

If the signal grows stronger or weaker we might be able to work something out from there.

Yeah... would be nice if we could work our way backwards to the source, if the signal's bouncing around, but I'm not sure that sort of tech exists here. Know any good engineers we could drag into a pow-pow about this stuff?

b!

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