And a jazz quartet.

Characters C'vryn, Tivaly
Synopsis Tivaly and C'vryn enjoy some music in the Moonshine Gardens.
Out-of-Character Date October 5, 2014

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Igen Weyr - Moonshine Gardens
A large sandstone archway provides a dramatic entrance from the soft fine sands of the lake shore. The room within defined by sandstone brick walls which vary in height, but none low enough to be seen over. Colorful awnings stretch overhead, connected by a series of poles and wires so that they float effortlessly above. They provide shelter from the sun during the day, and a warm comforting feel at night lit by electric lights. Plank flooring is stained a medium cherry hue, giving an odd effect to the open space.

A solid wall at the back leads to a smaller building where the kitchen is located. Colored glass shelves line the wall in irregular intervals, stocked with all fashion of liquor and wine. A massive bar rests in front of the wall, an exquisite piece of skybroom polished and stained to a flawless black finish, accented with two inlaid meandering stripes of pearl and silver. Matching black and silver stools line along the front of the bar. Round tables for four-somes to six-somes are spread about haphazardly with comfortable but also easily replaceable wicker chairs.


The evening atmosphere are this particular establishment is a low-key pleasant one, with the hum of conversation and the clink of glasses. Business is fair tonight, perhaps somewhat owing to the fact that there's a quartet playing mellow, jazzy music at a makeshift stage in the corner of the room, giving those that may not normally venture into such an establishment cause to try the place out. Tivaly is one such person, sitting by herself at a table-for-two near the musicians, nursing a drink and leaning her chin on the heel of her palm while she listens to an impressive guitar solo that's just winding down. There's the quick thrill of applause even while the song morphs into something new, a livelier tune that serves as a good backdrop for laughter and chatter.

C'vryn is glancing around at the doorway, looking this way and that before he finally makes up his mind to actually wander on in. Despite the first hesitation, he walks on up to the bar and orders something before turning around to survey the folks sitting once more. His footsteps take him closer to the musicians, head tilted slightly as he listens and then he's speaking. "Room for someone to sit here and listen with you to the music? Can't say as I've realized that we were going to have such here at Igen tonight but it's a very pleasant surprise."

It's nothing personal that Tivaly probably wouldn't have known C'vryn existed in the room at all had he not chosen her table (so it's lucky that he did). She's left blinking at him a few times when the voice mingles with the music, at first looking rather blank about the question, as though she hasn't been able to parse the words for what they are. Her expression holds a question in it for the space of two or three seconds, and then it all makes sense, and she nods readily to the empty chair. "By all means," she agrees, now that the gears are turning instead of just grinding to a halt. "I think they were just passing through and couldn't resist the chance to play," she explains, finding that careful volume that lets her be heard over the music but not beyond the table.

C'vryn pulls out the chair to settle in, offering his name. "I'm C'vryn, or Ryn, here at Igen. Not sure that I've met you before, or if I have, I'll admit to a terrible memory. Although it's awful to forget the name of a pretty lady." He makes himself comfortable, turning to watch both the stage and his new companion. Are they a regular contingent of harpers or just traveling folk, do you know? They're very decent players and as I don't get out much, it's nice to hear something like this." Then there is an hand waving to encompass the sitting area. "I knew this was under construction. Wonder when it was finished."

Tivaly's gracious enough (or well-bred enough, either way) to receive a compliment without ignoring it or making a fuss over it, just a smile that acknowledges the flattery for what it's worth. "Tivaly, of Harper Hall," she offers back, her eyes traveling occasionally between her new companion and the quartet, her hand coming out from under her chin only when it's appropriate to dribble applause in for the musicians. "They're Harpers on their way Igen Hold and Telgar Hold, I believe, and we were lucky enough to have them for a night." Trust a Harper to be all in the know about the doings of her fellows. And everyone else. "I could get you the exact date later, if you'd really like to know," she adds, and it's hard to tell - with the music beneath the conversation, masking some of the nuances of tone - if she's teasing or not.

"Oh, it just goes to show how unobservant I can be at times. I'd be loosing my own head if Em wasn't around to remind me, I swear." Ryn is busy, clapping when he can, cheerfully joining in with the others. "Just glad that they could stop then. We'll have to ask to be including more often on the rounds of the musicians. I'll ask Yuni, when I see if she wouldn't mind making that request." He glances over once more. "And what brings you here, Tivaly, of Harper Hall to Igen? A fondness for sand? Or perhaps you care for wind?" He's grinning though to take any sting out of the remark, "We don't often get folks that want to be here, so I'm curious."

"At seventeen, I finally decided that I hadn't had enough blistering hot days and icy cold nights in my life, so here I am," she answers with a shrug, lifting her glass just long enough for a sip. Judging by the amount of condensation on its outside and the depth of the puddle in which it's sitting, Tivaly's had just that one glass for quite some time, and she's in no hurry to be done with it. "Hopefully, if they make enough in tips tonight, they'll bring word back to the Hall that there actually is a market for music in the depths of the desert, and we'll see more players had this way voluntarily. As you say, Ryn, Igen doesn't seem to have much innate lure of its own."

C'vryn emit places a hand over his heart. "Alas, you wound me. My birthplace, must you disparage it so? Even if it needs disparaging?" He's over his fake hurt in a few seconds. "I mean, I like Igen, but I was born here. So, I'm biased and even I know it's not the sort of place most folks want to live." He adds in a stage whisper. "Or visit. So I'll be sure to fork over a tip. Was planning on it anyway. Do they know you're shilling for them?" There's a bit of a faint frown. "Are you posted here then, for the foreseeable future? As a harper, perhaps we could get you to play on those days when we're not having much else."

Tivaly's tone is full of apology, even if her words are utterly lacking it. "Oh, Ryn. Igen really doesn't need disparaging. It's taken care of making itself as inhospitable as possible regardless of whether or not anyone points it out." As for whether or not the players, who pause for a little break, as they tell the audience, moving away to wet their whistles, know that the blue-eyed apprentice is drumming up tips for them… well, she only wears an enigmatic little smile and chooses to leave that question unanswered. "I'm not that kind of Harper, alas. I'm here on an assignment, helping with the records that were found recently?" Perhaps he's heard of them? Anyway, she notes, "I enjoy music enough not to inflict mine on the population at large."

C'vryn hrrrmphs and attempts to look like a grumpy old man. "Well, I suppose not. I mean. It is nice enough here though, if you like the landscape. It's pretty in a way that the greener places aren't. Just not so comfortable to try and live in." He barely notices as the harpers leave off the playing, intent as he is on conversation. "I'd heard about some of them. But that's not really something that I get into here. Records, I mean. I help in the infirmary and the greenhouses, as a healer. More with the making of treatments than the actual treating of patients, I'll admit. So, my bad bedside manner is the same as your playing? Such terrible examples of our crafts, we are. At least the stereotypes."

"The unforgiving sweep of endless, dry mesas? The parched earth that promises nothing but punishment for the unprepared?" Tivaly couches the florid language in a regal tone, making sure to acknowledge how over-the-top her descriptions really are. She's that kind of Harper, apparently. "I suppose it has a certain cruel beauty, though you'll forgive us soft, simple folk for enjoying more hospitable climes, I hope." She lifts her glass when C'vryn mentions his bedside manner as analogous to her musical capacity, reaching across the table to offer a toast, "To all the sympathetic Healers and musical Harpers of Pern. May they continue to fill the voids so that we don't have to."

"They truly are a wonder, aren't they? The folks that can be so patient? I'm more liable to snap, here you go. Now, out of the way." Ryn shrugs. "Failing of mine, the healing plants interest me. The sick people, not as much." He turns to his glass, to accompany her toast. "But at least, this is home. And with enough time, you come to appreciate it. Even if I never convince you of that. But I should be heading back out I think, Em's reminding me of an errand I should be doing. He fishes for a few marks. "Let the other have this please, and tell them to stop by Igen anytime."

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