xp_logs | Terry and Kylun, poolside.

Backdated to March 30th.

Kylun is minding his own business when he's accosted by an exuberant redhead. She starts off with just a thank you but gets more music lessons out of it in the end. Fear the Irish girl.

This must be the pool, Kylun thought, studying it curiously. Empty and covered against the winter just barely past, of course, but he could imagine it filled, and resolved to try it out when the opportunity came. He could swim, of course, but the icy tarns and chill streams that made up most of his experience with the practice hadn't left him desperate for more; still, in this warm country, swimming could very well be something to enjoy.

Terry glanced out the window to the pool area and noticed Kylun standing at the empty pool. She set down the orange juice she'd just poured and hurried outside. "Mr...um, Kylun?" Terry was in the habit of addressing teachers by proper titles but she hadn't actually heard Kylun referred to any other way. And he was such a solemn, serious person. Hopefully he wouldn't be offended. She'd never really talked to him before.

"Yes?" Kylun turned at the unfamiliar voice and tilted his head, then smiled. "Ah--Terry, yes? Clarice has spoken of you. Can I help you with something?"

Terry nodded then shook her head, "Not exactly, I just wanted to say how pretty that was. At the memorial service. I already told Alison but she already knows she's great so that wasn't a shock. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that it was..." Terry paused, unable to come up with the proper words for her reaction. Her hands grabbed at air unconsciously. "great," she finished lamely.

"Ah." Kylun gave an embarrassed half-shrug. "I still think she could have done just as well with one of the, the 'stereos' from the house, but thank you. My mutation is not very useful, usually, but I was glad for the opportunity to be part of the service."

"No, it wouldn't have been the same at all!" Terry protested. She took a couple of steps forward though it meant she had to tilt her head way back to look up at him. "There's such a difference between live performances and canned music. There's nothing in the world like a live performance. It would have been trite!"

"'Canned,'" Kylun mused, smiling slightly. "An apt expression. I like that." He shook his head slightly. "I can sing for myself, but only in my own voice. When I use my power, I can only reproduce sounds I have heard, and only exactly as I heard them. In that sense . . . my part in the memorial service was 'canned,' as you say. It is Alison to whom the credit is due."

"Alison is great." Terry agreed, "but you made it really special. It changes the quality of the tone. Gives it life." She tilted her head to the side and beamed up at him. "And you'd do well not to argue with an Irish girl when she tells you something."

Kylun smiled. "An old friend of mine often said much the same, regarding Irish girls; she had been one herself, before being called to the monastery. Very well: you have won, and I admit to being more impressive than one of your 'stereo' devices." His smile took on a mischievous edge. "I am, after all, self-propelled."

"Ah, see? I told you that you were." Terry bounced and gave him a quick hug then went pink. She bounced back quickly and kept grinning at him. "You'll have to be my back-up one day. We'll go on tour and be as big as Alison was."

The hug came as a surprise, but not an unwelcome one, and Kylun managed a quick, gentle pat on Terry's shoulder before she pulled away. "A generous offer. And a challenging one, if all that I have heard of Alison's old career is true. I will remember it, if I ever tire of this place." He chuckled, but his smile went shy. "Until that day . . . would you like to hear some music from my home, as I remember it? Alison has heard a little--and the Professor, doubtless, during his time studying there--but no one else now living, I think."

Terry lit up and bounced even more. "Would yeh?" she asked excitedly, her accent strengthening with her glee. "I'd love to hear it. Alison plays the Askani music sometimes after one of our lessons and I'm trying to learn that. Is it choral or just instrumental? When can I hear it?"

"If I am truly to overcome my opinion of my mutation, then practice is the only way." Kylun's expression turned wistful. "And besides . . . the history of my order stretches back very nearly to the dawn of civilization. I . . . think it would be a comfort, if I were not the only one in whom what we were survives." He smiled gently. "Which is a roundabout way of saying that I would be glad to share our music with you--to teach it, even, if you wish to learn." He thought for a moment. "It was choral, for the most part. We had instruments as well, but I do not know their English names. Perhaps you could help me find them."

Terry nodded, smiling up at Kylun, "Yeah sure. I don't know as much as Alison does but I would be happy to help. And you can ask her, I never turn down a music lesson. I have class with her everyday but I bet she'd let me work with you instead of the projects she has planned for music class." New music made Alison as giddy as it made Terry. She bet it would be more of a problem convincing Alison not to be at every session.

"I would not want to disrupt Alison's plans, but if she does not object, I think we could consider that a deal." Kylun frowned slightly, a worried sort of expression. "I hope you will not find it too . . . boring, perhaps, or not to your taste--the music we had at the monastery was very different from the things I have heard you students listening to here."

"Alison will think it's great." Terry bounced in place a bit more. "And you don't need to worry about me not liking it. It's music, isn't it? This is going to be so cool. I'll have to talk to Alison first but I see her everyday so when did you want to start?"

Her energy, Kylun decided, was little short of appalling. Luckily for her it was also infectious; he was almost tempted to bounce himself. "Why don't you let me know when you've spoken with Alison, and we can start immediately after that?"

Terry eyed him speculatively, a mischievous gleam in her bright blue eyes. "How immediately is immediately?"

Kylun chuckled. "If you wish to try and find Alison, I could wait here?"

Terry grinned. "Give me ten minutes." If Terry couldn't find Alison in ten minutes, she was definitely going soft. The mansion gossip network could probably cut it to under five. Terry laughed then flung herself at Kylun for another hug. "Stay put, I'll be right back," she promised and darted away.