fandomhighdorms | Third floor common room, Wednesday Morning

To say that Leto was not in a good mood was an understatement. Having recovered from the weekend - which had been rather tiring - he had been unfairly accused yesterday of being a bad friend by Tony and added to that he had been woken up in the middle of the night by loud out-of-tune singing and slamming of doors. The former event should be just something to laugh at, he knew that, but he just didn't have the patience right now. Ghanima might tell him off, but she wasn't here.

The next person who had issues with who he was sleeping with would be challenged to a duel and have their waters taken.

To calm himself down he had chosen between playing the baliset and doing some fighting practise and the former had won. If there was to be a dance he should anyway make himself familiar with contemporary dance music, and picking up some new tunes to play was a good way. Having tuned the instrument, he swtiched on the TV, looking for one of the music channels he knew were being broadcast. Watching, his face turned into a frown. Not only were the songs difficult to play on a baliset, he also had his reservations about the dance style.

Some days he wished there was a Litany against Annoyance.

[open of course]

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Even though it was morning still, pre-coffee, and Chad could barely be considered an intelligent creature pre-coffee, he still recognized when music was being played.

Plus, he had an early class, and he'd need coffee for that. Leadership was hard.

So he shuffled his loutish self into the common room, made a grunt that was intended to be complimentary toward anyone and anything involving music, and went straight for the coffee machine. The path was wired into a part of his brain that didn't even require thought anymore.

At the grunt, Leto looked up from the instrument and recognised Chad from the club fair. The man had suggested they play music together, he recalled. He continued playing, struggling with the melody of a rather unmelodious song.

As big paws of hands fumbled through the mindlessly known activity of preparing coffee, Chad made another grunt. A questioning sort, as if wondering if Leto was struggling with what he was playing or simply...not very good at it.

Of course, Leto was not well-verse in grunt-speak of this particular kind, so he just looked in Chad's direction while struggling on. Then he sighed, let go of the strings for a moment before beginning to play a song he knew; a simple but effective piece from Caladan.

There was a little bit more fumbling of large hands with relatively small coffee filters, but, finally, through the pawing, Chad had managed to set up the machine and get it going, and, in no time, he'd have wonderful rejuvenating and speech-allowing caffeine.

The waiting, however, was the hardest part. Chad grunted again, as he turned back toward Leto and gave him a thumbs up for the shift in the music. He seemed a little better at that one.

Clearly, Chad was a man of few words, at least in the mornings. Leto could see the advantage of that. He gave only a nod in reply and continued playing.

It was a little different, having someone not trying to converse with him when he was in only grunt mode, but it was nice, because it was hard conversing with some people in just grunts. Not everyone could be like Teddy and be fluent in it by now.

So he just leaned back (carefully) on the counter, and listened, and liked what he was hearing as the coffee brewed. Once the pot was full, he took it from the coffee maker and held it up a little, grunting and tilting his head in question if Leto wanted any.

Chad got the smallest of smiles and a nod in reply. Leto kept on playing, and enjoying that there wasn't much more than music and the occasional grunt needed. Music could be so soothing; Gurney Halleck had known that and his father had learnt it too. It created a good balance in a warrior - the sword and the baliset.

With a grunt and a nod back, Chad turned to get out a mug of Leto and poured him a cup. His head tilted toward the refrigerator, with another questioning grunt, wondering if he took it black or with anything in it.

Leto smiled, shaking his head. He started playing another song, a livelier one with complicated fingering that required all his attention to get right.

Chad, not one for cream or sugar himself, grunted in approval at Leto's choice and brought the cup to him, setting it down on an end table (and on a coaster, of course!) for him before shuffling back to the coffee pot to pour his own mug.

"Thank you," Leto said, the words spoken without the flow of music being interrupted. Should Chad be interested he would of course let him try the baliset. Leto was sure the man could come up with a grunt expressing such an interest if needed.

Chad grunted as if to say that it was no trouble at all, taking his mug in his hands and moving to go sit down in that really big chair that he liked in this room for its sturdiness. He sat down and just sort of focused on his coffee for a while, gulping a considerable amount down despite how hot it was.

And when he'd finished that, he just settled with a sort of deep sigh, feeling like his brain could function properly again. He could also speak now, maybe even well enough for polysyllables, but he didn't have much to say when he could just sit and listen to the new and different music of Leto's instrument.

At the end of the song, Leto reached for the cup and drank of the coffee, thinking of the next melody to play. He smiled a little at Chad before continuing. The next one was melancholy and slow - easy enough, but with some parts where the rhythm got complicated.

It was a little while into it before Chad, having listened carefully in interest to where things grew more detailed in the way the music was spun out, asked, "Is that the instrument you mentioned at the club fair?"

Really, he could probably just sit there in complete silence, just listening, until he had to get up to go to class, but he thought maybe doing something like that without even really talking to Leto wasn't a very good way to show his gratitude for the music.

"It is," Leto confirmed, pausing. "Would you like to try it?"

Chad eyed it carefully, taking note of its design, its strings, recalling up the sounds that it made and the way Leto had moved its fingers over it.

"You wouldn't mind?"

"If I did I wouldn't have offered it." He smiled at Chad holding the instrument out for him. He had seen him listen and watch - only someone who appreciated music would pay that kind of attention to detail.

[bedtime!]

It was a stringed instrument, so Chad was especially interested, but it was a very different kind, one literally out of this world, and so he took it from Leto with a kind of reserved carefulness.

He took a moment to position it, copying much of Leto's previous posture and hand positions. He counted stringers, he considered the length of the neck and the size of the base to meditate on which sounds which movements would make and, once he felt he had an idea, he started to strum.

He started playing Stairway to Heaven.

He figured it would at least sound recognizable, though he might have been biased because he knew what to look for.

Leto listened, studying how Chad quickly picked up how to play. "It's a beautiful melody," he said. "Your instrument is similar?"

Third floor common room, Wednesday Morning

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