| Title: A lakeside drum concert Time: Saturday, March 20, 2004 The Thespians: Navilee Karzonia and Pascal Curio Location: Scattergood Grounds - Mountain Lake |
| +---[ Scattergood Grounds - Mountain Lake ]----------------------------------+ | | | A crystal-clear mountain lake laps its waters up against its shoreline, | | stretching out in an immense expanse to cover a good portion of land. The | | water's edge holds various terrains, at one point it splashes gently upon | | a sandy beach, another a grassy bank stands a foot above the pool; large | | rocks are scattered here and there to sit upon, including partially | | immersed in the water, as well as large trees of various types that | | provide shading. On the eastern edge of the lake a daunting forest grows | | right up to the tarn's edge, and there visible a small river merges with | | the lake, coming at an odd angle from the north. The dirt path that cuts | | through the area seems to stop about here, becoming so overgrown by | | grasses that it no longer is visible. | | | +-[ Exits: ]-----------------------------------------------------------------+ |
| It may be Spring Break, but for Pascal Curio it doesn't signify anything other than not having classes. The girl isn't going home for the break, and she's spending her free time by the Mountain Lake today, wrapped up warmly inside her cloak. "Damn mountain weather," she mutters, perched above the waters of the freezing pool upon a grassy bank. She's got a fistful of rocks in her hand, and a few more scattered in her lap. She raises her arm in a rather lazy motion, but it quickly snaps back into place as she skips a flat rock atop the waters of the lake, her emerald eyed muddied in thought. |
| Walking slowly up, carrying a rather large and heavy bag, Navilee Karzonia groans slightly. Someone was already at the lake. Just perfect... Still, she doesn't stop, and goes to 'her' rock, dropping the bag with a loud clang and a wince, then flops on the rock, rubbing her shoulder her bag was draped over. |
| Great. Fortunately, Pascal is slowly getting used to the fact that it is just about impossible to find a place of solitude. Her green eyes clear up sharply and she turns her head just slightly to see just who's made that noise. Another rock is slapped harshly upon the water, and then Pascal turns her head a little more, noticing Navilee. That girl Elijah was telling her about. In an effort to be civil, she turns slightly, facing the girl, and offers Navilee a curt nod, and then a sharp, "Something the matter?" She's trying, she really is, but it's going to take time before she learns. |
| "Yeah. Bag. Heavy." Navilee says, kicking it slightly. Stupid people always being somewhere. As opposed to nowhere. She sighs slightly. "Stupid Bag. Being heavy." Yes. Very intelligent tonight. |
| An eyebrow just a shade darker than her flaming auburn hair is raised at Navilee, and Pascal tosses another rock idly into the lake, seeming almost satisfied with the dull *plop* that it makes as it breaks the surface of the water. "It's Spring Break... and you're carrying a bag?" Not that Pascal's all too interested, but one can't give off the queen bitch from hell attitude all the time. "Clearly you're not doing schoolwork..." she trails off, slightly disbelieving. |
| "No. I don't do schoolwork doing school. Why would I do it when I'm not supposed to...?" Navilee arches an eyebrow slightly. She shrugs slightly and opens the bag, making sure nothing is broken, before placing it, with a grunt, behind her. |
| "Well then," Pascal says, having to be satisfied with that sort of answer. She chews on her lip for a moment, and then runs her free hand through her hair. "May I ask what's making your bag so heavy and such a burden to be carrying around then?" The tone of her voice has gotten slightly more civil, but it still seems slightly forced. She's still trying. |
| "Meh. Drums." Navilee says, as if this is something at happens almost daily. And she is inquired about something almost daily... so... it sort of happens every day. But she has never, really, taken these out of her room... for... obvious reasons. |
| "Oh," Pascal says, plastering a smile to her face, as if having drums inside a bag outside was a normal occurance that she managed to witness on a daily basis. Duh. "You were... intending to practice here, obviously," she asks, mentally debating whether or not she really wants to be here when the free concert starts. Actually, Navilee probably wouldn't even want her here to begin with. Another rock is tossed into the water, and the smile just widens. |
| "Yes... I was..." Navilee says, blinking slightly. What was wrong with this girl...? She's like.. wierd. And, free concert, not likely. Bands require guitars, which there are none here. |
| Thank god Elijah and Toby were nowhere to be found. "Oh," she repeats again, letting the smile fade somewhat. Not that she's totally against music, but you know, loud noises and all. "You'd probably want to, oh, be alone while you're practicing," Pascal says, not really asking it in question form. |
| "I would... but I don't care if you stay here..." Navilee says, shrugging slightly. "It's not like it kills people... well... that much... Besides, this is likely too public of a place..." |
| "I've just found that a lot of people prefer to be alone when they're doing their... thing," Pascal offers a shrug to match Navilee's, and makes a vague gesture as she says her last word. It is going to kill her to be somewhat decent, but she's determined, given what she's been told about Navilee. "Perhaps I'll stay a little while and watch," she says perhaps a little too coldly. She'd offer to help setup but that would most certainly turn out disastrous. |
| What she's been told...? That would inspire fear, had Navilee known. She arches an eyebrow slightly at Pascal. "Are you sure? You sound like you'd rather go get strangled by a vine. No offence." |
| Pascal Curio allows a rather dark smirk to curve across her face as Navilee guesses right. That little comment is filed in tucked away into Pascal's memory, as is most everything else from this conversation and those before that. She shrugs again, and her voice has taken a rather aloof tone to it. "We'll see. I've been through worse, /no offense/. I'm sure we'll both be fine." |
| A raised eyebrow and a shrug is given. "Whatever..." Navilee says, pulling the bag in front of her, before removing its contents; flat disks a couple of inches thick. And a pair of sticks. But no apparent drums. |
| Does Pascal look disappointed by the lack of drums that appear out of Navilee's bag? Well, she would be, were she a muggle. Being a solid follower of Murphy's Law, she just forces a sneer down as she waits patiently for Navilee to well, surprise her with something. "So... what're those?" she asks, just for the sake of asking a question. |
| "... Drums?" Navilee asks, sarcastically. She frowns slightly, thinking, then shrugs slightly arranging the disks slightly, into a slight semi-circle. Fun. |
| "No shit, Sherlock," Pascal answers, just as sarcastically. "They don't look like standard drums, which is why I'm asking," but her voice and her posture has yet to take onto the defensive. She merely crosses her arms in front of her chest and just continues to watch the arrangement of the drums. |
| Navilee rolls her eyes slightly, but doesn't say anything. Yes, this night has gone downhill. Very far, very fast. Soon there will be a fight... and someone will get hurt. She stands back and mutters a word, and the 'discs' slowly expand, growing in size to that of normal drums, with the stands included, which she sets to putting together. |
| When sarcastic, expect sarcasm back right from Pascal. She smirks at Navilee's eye roll, and just watches, her expression almost a sleepy one, as the drums grow in size into a drum set. What she does next goes probably a little too far, but that's just the way she is. Loud, and completely uncalled for clapping comes from her hands as she sits back and applauds the demonstration. Navilee hasn't even started playing yet. |
| Arching an eyebrow, Navilee shakes her head, pulling out a 'throne' from her back and setting it on the ground, before sitting on it, making minor adjustments here and there to her drum set, now full-size. |
| 'She's just going this slow to piss me off and make me leave,' is the thought that goes through Pascal's mind, but she manages to bite down rather harshly upon her lip to keep quiet, her eyes still glued to Navilee as she makes the final arrangements to the set. Pascal crosses her legs and rests her elbows upon her knees, cradling her chin in her palms as she waits patiently, all the while still staring towards Navilee's direction. |
| But Navilee doesn't start quite yet. Finishing her adjustments to the set, she stretches her arms, grabs the sticks, twirls them faintly... and sits there. That's all nothing. Her feet find the pedals slowly, and she warms them up faintly, before stopping to remove her boots, trying again. |
| "So, how long've you been playing again? A couple years?" Pascal calls towards Navilee from her now warmed up and rather comfortable seat on her rock. She's still got her hands placed in her chin, and she's speaking more to break the silence than to disturb Navilee's little drum ritual. Though it could be interpreted either way from the receiving party. |
| Ritual? Not quite. More like procrastination. "Yeah. Couple years..." Navilee says, tossing a stick idly into the air. What to play... what to play... |
| "I see," Pascal says, distractedly, picking at a few stray blades of grass camouflaged upon her robe. "Play with a band then?" she continues to ask, staring at Navilee, then the drums, then off somewhere else as she just continues to wait. It's rather obvious that her patience, not to mention attention span, is slowly dwindling. |
| "No... trying to get one started..." Here's a good time to start. As soon as she says it, Navilee picks up a basic beat, nothing too fancy, nor too loud, but still drums. |
| The drums have stopped Pascal from talking. Well, they actually haven't stopped her from talking, but her voice is nothing when compared to the sound of the drums, so Pascal just closes her mouth, letting Lien play. Her head is tilted to the side, resting on one hand. and she idly drums her own fingers on her knee. |
| The drum beat switches suddenly, to a jazz beat. Little bit faster, more exciting, and louder. But still, just drums. Not like another instrument is going to come... like a guitar or anything. (Navilee) |
| Pascal Curio does not play the guitar, fortunately or unfortunately. She just sits on her rock, staring at the drumset with an unreadable expression on her face. She picks at her robe, and then returns her attention back Navilee, and then is distracted by the rocks in her lap. The cycle continues. |
| And so the beat changes, again. This time to a heavier, louder rock beat. Navilee's eyes close in concentration as her hands begin to blur slightly. |
| It's actually rather interesting watching Navilee switch from style to style. Every time that Navilee switches to a different drum beat, Pascal's head perks up and her eyes carefully follow the movements of the musician, though to be honest, half the time Pascal can hardly follow. |
| Changing the beats is fun. So Navilee changes it again. It is hard to discern what it is, because of the speed it is going at, and she has now lost all touch with the outside world... if she really ever had any. |
| Pascal Curio is actually feeling rather useless at the moment. While Navilee is absorbed in her drum playing, Pascal can no longer be a bitch, or just be generally unpleasant. As it is, Pascal slips off of her rock, and gives Navilee a wave that most likely falls short since the other girl seems rather, in her own little daze. The pebbles fall soundlessly off of Pascal's robe, and she quickly walks away from the area, towards the dormitories while Navilee's playing echoes in her ears. |
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