xp_logs | Alison and Terry, Music Room

Way backdated to Tuesday the 22nd
After getting this letter from Sean and a mysterious letter from Ireland and in the aftermath of Thermopylae (you don't get links to that because you should know what I mean), Terry meets Alison for a music lesson and turns it into an advice session instead.

It was nice and quiet in the music room. A sharp, almost painful contrast to how it had been on Youra, with the battle raging all round. It felt odd to even think of it in such terms, but that was what it had been, after all. It was raining outside, so very lightly - almost carefully so, leaving Alison to wonder if this was Ororo somehow, or just nature itself echoing her thoughts.

But I'm so very little in the grand scheme of things, aren't I? Leaning her forehead against the window, Alison smiled a bit at the thought. So very little. But she still had her place, in all of that. They all did.

Terry crept into the music room, holding two folded pieces of paper and a folder of music. Seeing Alison staring moodily out the window, Terry automatically checked the clock to be sure she wasn't early. Having assured herself she was right on time, she cleared her throat gently and smiled at her teacher. "Hi."

The sound of the door opening had been registered, the particular thread that was all Terry's also noted, and when Alison turned to look at her, she was smiling in welcome. "Hey there, kiddo." She didn't move from her perch next to the window however, the coolness radiating from the glass still comforting, somehow.

"How are you doing?" Terry asked, crossing the music room to stand by Alison. She leaned against the wall, barely glancing out the window. The weather seemed to be obliging her mood lately, grey and drizzling, not a true storm and not sun.

Alison turned on the windowsill, to look at Terry rather than be back to her, noting the music sheets held in her hand though she didn't comment on them yet. "I'm okay." Which was true, when one considered everything else that had happened, that might have happened. "And you?"

"Confused," Terry admitted honestly. "It's been a weird few days. Can I work with Faith today?" The question was abrupt but not as abrupt as it seemed.

"Yes. We can work with Faith today." The guitar was set up in the music room already, though Alison had been planning to have Terry take it back to her room with her for a while now. Today would be a good day for that, she decided. "What are you confused about?" Making assumptions as to what would be plain silly, really.

Terry flashed a grin and went to retrieve Faith, handling her reverently as she always did. She was somber again by the time she sat down and fiddled with Faith's strings for several seconds before replying. "Sean wrote me an email. Apologizing and stuff." She touched one of the folded papers. "And the Professor says we have to go camping for spring break so that we'll get to know each other." Even if Alison hadn't know Terry as well as she did, she'd have known that this wasn't all the story. Terry bent her head over Faith, not looking at Alison.

A low sound greeted that, Alison looking at Terry pensively. "Mmmm. I see." She waited a bit while Terry checked on the tuning, and started to run through a few warming up exercises, looking at the paper the girl had touched earlier. The email, or so she thought. "How d'you feel about it?"

"Well, I'm not happy about it." Terry said instantly, like she'd expected the question, then sighed, picking out a melancholy tune. "And I don't think it will help. We just don't get along, Alison. We fight and then pretend to make up and then we fight some more." She nodded at the papers. "He said he was proud of me."

"Did he now?" Pulling her legs up close, Alison wrapped her arms around them and leaned her chin on her knees, watching Terry as she played. "Mm. No one's saying it has to become the perfect little family unit right away. Or ever even. Maybe... you can just try to get to know each other well enough to have a go at being friends?"

Terry continued to play for a little while longer before she answered, "I...the Professor wants us to do this so I'll try but I don't know if it's going to work and...I don't want it to if he's going to just leave again." She thought about telling Alison about the other letter. She'd brought it because she hadn't decided not to but... "It's not fair."

"So tell him that." Alison waited a bit, to get that 'what are you saying exactly' look Terry so excelled at, and then continued. "Tell him that not leaving again is part of the deal. He may not be able to commit to that perfectly, but at least then you two can... work out what's acceptable. And not."

Terry gave Alison a skeptical look but nodded anyway. "Yeah, maybe. It's never worked before but maybe." But her restless playing didn't stop and it was obvious that something else was bothering her.

"Terry?" Alison uncurled from on the windowsill and stood up slowly, before padding in the direction of the young girl, settling down on her heels next to her. Faith was between them, the notes plucked out stopping as she spoke once more. "Is there something else?" It didn't matter what it was, really - just that something was bothering her.

Terry finally stopped playing and leaned forward to grab the papers. "It wasn't just Sean who wrote me." She handed Alison the heavier folded paper, the one whose pages were covered in florid, sharp edged writing. "Uncle Tom wrote me." She looked like she thought she might be in trouble for it but strangely elated all at the same time.

Going still at that, Alison stared at the letter for a moment before reaching out, carefully accepting the letter, the fact that Terry was handing it to her conveying so many things on so many levels, all at once. She didn't read it though, instead looking at the young girl. "Do you want to tell me what he wrote to you about, or for me to just read it?" She hadn't, however, shown her Sean's letter.

"You can read it. It doesn't say much. He just hasn't written in a while and...the timing was a bit strange." Terry fidgeted. That wasn't precisely accurate but she wasn't going to explain her vague misgivings. It was probably just her imagination anyway. They were long past the days when Tom would send her coded messages to amuse her and this wasn't really the same thing.

The letter seemed vague and innocuous enough. A simple hello, an unsurprising complaint about the quality of prison food, that he missed her... and a rather large amount of reminiscing about her childhood. For someone who hadn't contacted the child he'd raised in a while, the reminiscing seemed heavy-handed to Alison, but it was still just that. No requests for anything, no questions in particular... She folded it carefully again, after going over it twice, and handed it back to Terry - it was hers, after all. "Why d'you think it's strange, sweetie?"

"He's just not written in a while. I thought he might have forgotten or stopped caring or..." Terry shrugged. "He writes like he never stopped. I guess it's just weird because of the fight and Sean's letter and such. He doesn't even ask me to write back...he stopped doing that after the first couple of years."

Or that he might want something now after being silent for so long? Alison couldn't help the thought, which made sense when one well... stopped to wonder. "I see." There was not much she could say, though she wondered if Sean knew, if asking would be all right. And couldn't not do so, in all fairness. "Does Sean know? I mean that your uncle writes to you." There was no censure in her voice as she asked.

Terry looked vaguely ashamed, "I think so. I mean, I've never told him and we didn't get the letters to the Keep itself but... Except he's never said anything and that's not like him." She actually smiled at that if wryly. There was ample evidence that neither Cassidy was good at keeping their mouth shut about things that upset them.

"Odds are high he knows, I'm thinking." Alison rocked back on her heels, then sat down on the floor, crossing her legs. "We do keep a certain security level on letters. Not intrusive," she added calmly, "but if a letter came in from a prison address, there'd probably have been notification and a permission to let it through."

Terry opened the letter again, running her fingers over the words without reading it. "There's no return address on this last one. I don't remember if there were three years ago. It's not like he was easy to contact during that time anyway." She sighed, "I'm sorry, I'm supposed to be practicing."

"We'll just have to add an extra session some other time, mmm?" Alison figured that wouldn't be met with too many cries of protest, considering how proprietary Terry was of her lesson hours every week. "It's okay. We can just talk for a while longer, if you like."

Terry smiled and nodded. She would never turn down the opportunity to spend more time with Alison. "I think I should actually practice now anyway. I'm going to miss a bunch of lessons because of the camping trip anyway and it's not like I have a practice guitar to take." She patted Faith fondly, sad to leave her behind but she wasn't something Terry could ask Alison to risk.

A smile answered that, amusement lighting Alison's eyes. There were moments like these which you just enjoyed and didn't let anything else touch. "Who says you don't have a guitar to take?"

Terry's eyes widened, "Because I don't..." She looked around the room as though a guitar was going to appear out of nowhere. She didn't believe for a second that Alison was just teasing her, it would be much too much like her teacher to buy her a practice guitar. Still, despite the fact that it was a music room, Terry didn't see any unowned guitars. "Do I?"

Though she'd never thought she would actually teach one day - or have the patience for it, much less actually discover she enjoyed it - Alison knew that these were the kind of moments that were... special. "You can have Faith as a practice guitar until you're ready to pick one out of your own," she said softly. She'd miss having the guitar near at hand in her room, from the sheer habit of always having had the instrument nearby since she'd first struck out on her own, but this would be worth it.

Terry yelped and started to fling herself at Alison, realised she was still holding Faith, set her aside reverently then flung herself at Alison again. "Do you mean it? Really? But she's yours and what if I ruin her?" she babbled while hugging the life out of her teacher.

"Yes, I mean it! Really. No, you won't ruin her." Alison hugged Terry back, laughing quietly. It was a good thing she'd already been sitting on the floor or else she'd have been bowled over. "Her case will do just fine to keep her steady while you're off on the camping trip, and I can't have you missing practice now, can I?"

"She's still yours, right? I'm just borrowing until I can get my own." Terry wanted to be clear on that. She was saving money to buy her own and there was no way she could take Faith from Alison. No matter what she said. Not that Alison would ever give away Faith. It was Faith! "So that I can practice."

"You'll get your own Faith one day." Alison nodded, confirming Terry's words. "But for now, the Blue One just there is yours to work on until you get a guitar of your own." A pause. "Or, well, until a guitar decides you'll do just fine and if you don't get it now you'll be haunted forever and ever, anyway."

Terry breathed a sigh of relief. "I should be able to afford one in a few months. I think I'm doing well, right? For not having played for very long?" Terry sat back on her heels and reached out to pull Faith to her.

"You're doing very well," Alison said, which was nothing but the truth anyway. "You're obviously sticking to the exercises I've given you for out of class and your hand span is already ideal for this given that you play the harp. Gave you a good head start, that." Grinning, Alison reached out to pet one of the hands firmly attached to Faith.

Terry blushed and the hand Alison had touched tightened over the strings. "I wanted to learn. The harp isn't much good at concerts." She looked shyly at Alison, "And after this, piano." There was a sense Terry wanted to learn everything. It wasn't far off.

"And after that, piano." Alison was, after all, the last person likely to tell Terry she couldn't learn something if she was so inclined.