Logs:Take Two

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Take Two
Dramatis Personae

Chloe, Naomi

2021-02-03


“Ion need your apology, I just don’t care for rich bitch attitude.”

Location

<XAV> Music Room - Xs Second Floor


Wide and spacious, seating in this soundproofed room comes largely on the sweep of gentle risers that afford the teacher an easy view of all the budding performers, and add another dimension to the acoustics of the room. Instruments of all types are carefully stored around the room, and a grand piano, immaculately upkept, takes the position of prize near the back. In a nod to the eclectic studies of the students, digital mixing equipment and turntables rub shoulders with the classical instruments. Music stands sit in front of most of the seats, and the only windows look out out over the side of the school grounds.

Snowpocalypse has ended, leaving the grounds covered not only in snow scarred with remnants of snow forts and snowballs fights. The clouds have remained even with the snow all fallen, causing the late afternoon winter light to be even bleaker than usual.

Still, Chloe is in good spirits as she heads toward music room with a spring in her step and a horizontal sketchbook, the hardcover embossed with two small overlapping golden Cs. Wearing pearl colored wool and cashmere sweater with a button up back, unbuttoned to allow her wings, it’s tucked into a pleated a-line black plaid skirt. It leaves a few inches or so of green skin exposed before black suede over-the-knee boots take over, heels short and toes pointed. Her hair appears hurriedly pulled back, knotted and held in place with a hair stick, a single pearl tassel hanging from the end of it. It doesn't match the rest of her jewelry - amazonite carved into daisies, hanging from delicate gold around her neck and from her ears.

The music room door is closed when she reaches it – she takes a moment to peek through the window before heading in, the sound of drums spilling out into the hallway as the door opens. She makes sure her wings are clear before closing the door behind her, and chances a wave at the room's occupant.

Inside, Naomi has one earbud stuck in her ear, the other tinnily blaring “The Day I Got Expelled” karaoke track into the open air. The sleeves on her grey Xaviers hoodie are pulled up to her elbows, drumsticks loose in her hand. Her legs, clad in black jeans and faded red hi-tops, bounce with the rhythm, one foot working the pedal of the drum kit. She’s just coming to the end of song- Naomi looks up, a stray loc falling out of her ponytail. She misses the last sequence and seems to be resigned to it. She looks at Chloe with apprehension, pulling the earbud out and wrapping the cord around her phone. “Here to steal my seat?”

“I deserve that,” Chloe answers, tone slightly colored with chagrin. Holding her sketchbook to her chest with one arm, she straightens the hem of her sweater and sleeves with her free hand as she continues. “I’m actually here to give you an apology. I’m going to be helping with the play and if there is any chance we end up working together, I don’t want it to be awkward.” Visibly ceasing her fidgeting, she looks up at Naomi with her wide, dark eyes. “I’m sorry I acted the way I did when we met. I should have respected your space and had a better attitude about it. I will in the future.”

“Mmm.” Naomi flips forward a few pages in her music. “So now you stalking me?” Her tone is flat. “Ion need your apology, I just don’t care for rich bitch attitude.” Naomi glances up, green eyes narrowed. “What you doing anyway, costumes? Doubt we’ll be overlapping much.”

“If I were stalking you, I wouldn’t have had to ask, like, five people where you were,” Chloe answers, a small crease appearing between perfectly sculpted eyebrows. “I can’t help that I’m rich. I can help if I’m a bitch. Thus, you know, the apology.” Taking a breath, she adjusts the stick in her hair, her brow smoothing. “I’m helping with costumes and I’m also going to play the Oracle.”

At this Naomi quirks an eyebrow up - or, the spot where an eyebrow-shaped ridge of scales has formed at the edge of her eyelids. "Well, if you're offering. I'll think 'bout taking it." The other eyebrow goes up. "Tech and cast?" She flips ahead in her score. "Oracle's song's short. Not a lot of drums."

“It’s just one song. Way more tech than cast.” Shrugging one shoulder, Chloe lets out a huff that could be annoyed. “I think I was asked because of my wings. Why worry about setting up a harness if you don’t have to, I guess?” Her lips twist into a brief grimace. “Anyway, sorry for interrupting your practice. Thanks for hearing me out.”

Naomi presses her lips together, giving the cymbals an experimental tap. "Sure, but you gotta be able to belt, too." She pulls out the ear buds from her phone, taps the volume all the way up. "Hey." Her look now is - softer, her tone easing into something light. "Wanna give it a whirl? I could use the practice on the sustain."

Chloe’s eyebrows rise, wide eyes growing even wider for a moment. “Yeah, sure.” Setting her sketchbook down on a nearby chair, she pulls a slim phone from a pocket in her skirt. “My diaphragm could use the practice, I’ve only been able to argue with my sister on weekends since I came here. Let me find the lyrics and I’ll be ready.”