RP log: How the Jester became a scholar

[Empheba]

An RP log depicting what happens when the fool reads a text she understands nothing of. I can't imagine anyone minding me posting this (there are no secrets or strange things involved). I have cleaned out and shortened the log considerably, adding colours for clarity. Also the actual text from the book she read was removed, if you know anything about music you should get the gist of what she's reading anyway.

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(Scene: In the Globe Theatre; The bard Ariel op Orban (called just Orban below) is woriking on making a copy of his own treatise on music theory. The Jester is looking over his shoulder. Dolly, a troubadour apprenctice is also there, waiting to start her music lesson with Orban.)

The Jester's eyes glaze over, trying to read a few of the paragraphs in
Orban's copied text. "Well if you are happy writing it, am happy for
you" she decides diplomatically.


"I'm not used to it; I feel like my hand is going to fall off. Maybe I
should make you make the copies for your apprentice chores," Orban
deadpans Dolly's way. "I did sense that you were less comfortable with
your singing than your playing, but I think you've got a good natural
talent. It's just about learning how to refine it." Glancing away from
his work for a moment, he flashes the jester a lopsided grin. "I'm hurt, you
know. You don't like my writing?

The northern door is opened from the other side. An especially gaunt,
overcast-eyed woman arrives from the north with a triangular-shaped
lap harp artfully crafted from mahogany clutched tight to her form.

The Jester snerps her lips together in a michievous expression at Orban's
comment. "What's with all those swirly lines, Orbie? I keep wanting to
follow them around, makes me dizzy!" She eyes the page that Orban
holds up to her, her eyes flitting through the words, here and there
making large circles where they trace the man's swirly handwriting. "I
don't know half of these words. But this 'dissonance' business sounds
like fun though" she admits. She looks towards the door when an
especially gaunt, overcast-eyed woman enters, nodding to the newcomer
while still talking to Orban.

"It's called -elegance-," Orban sniffs pretentiously, though he's
grinning. "If you don't know half of those words, then maybe you
should read the book. Go on, take a copy." He closes the one he's
working on, sliding the original toward the jester. Glancing to Dolly, he
notes, "And let me know if you want to do that lesson now, or later."

An especially gaunt, overcast-eyed woman grips a triangular-shaped lap
harp artfully crafted from mahogany tightly to her form, cradling it
in both arms as she steps lightly into the building and glances about.
Catching your glance she politely dips her head in return, then sweeps
the room for a chair, which she approaches.

Orban drops a tome in green leather, titled 'Introductory Music Theory'.

The Jester gets a tome in green leather, titled 'Introductory Music Theory'.

read tome
01: (Ariel) Introduction
02: (Ariel) The Staff
03: (Ariel) Note Durations
04: (Ariel) Time Signatures
05: (Ariel) The Major Scale
06: (Ariel) Accidentals
07: (Ariel) The Minor Scale
08: (Ariel) Key Signatures
09: (Ariel) Chords and Conclusions
10: (Ariel) Practice Exercises
11: (Ariel) Glossary

"You trying to make a scholar out of me, Orbie?" The Jester laughs, "Say it
is not so!" you casually flips some pages of the tome without actually
picking it up off the table. "You spent a lot of time on this, didn't
you? Anyway, don't let me disturb, get on with yer lesson, you two."


"Alright, then." Orban rubs his hands together, rising from his
seat. "Why don't we go ahead? Feel free to listen in, if you're
interested, but please don't perform in public without the
Troubadours' approval," he adds for an especially gaunt, overcast-eyed
woman, with a slight smile. Approaching the stage, he chuckles
lightly The Jester's way. "You're a bard! Shouldn't you be at least a little
bit of a scholar of music?

An especially gaunt, overcast-eyed woman blinks at Orban, looking up
from her lap. "Oh... Okay..." she murmurs in a voice hardly over a
whisper.

The Jester finally succumbs to picking up a tome in green leather, titled
'Introductory Music Theory' up. She takes it with her to a table close to
an especially gaunt, overcast-eyed woman where she lets it down with a
heavy thump. "Hmph, he does write quite well ..." she mutters,
flipping the pages. "Not that I know much of music in the first
place." She smiles to an especially gaunt, overcast-eyed woman across
the covers. "Hi there, friend. Nice 'ta meet ya."

(From here on, the jester reads pages in the book, which is an
accurate introduction in musical theory, showing the basics of notes,
staves and other basics of reading sheet music (it's really quite ooc
impressive if you can find in in-game). The Jester sits at a table right next to the stage
reading aloud. a gaunt woman sits with her. Meanwhile, Orban and Dolly
are up on the stage just a few steps away to try to hold a lesson in singing.)

The Jester nods to an especially gaunt, overcast-eyed woman, looking down to
the pages of the tome before her. "Did -you- know that staffs have
clefs and that treble clefs are little anoying buggers carrying two
staves all ruled by a grand staff? Huh. I sure didn't."

An especially gaunt, overcast-eyed woman shakes her head slowly,
staring a bit at you. "Oh, no... I don't know much about combat..."
She absently plucks a high note from a triangular-shaped lap harp
artfully crafted from mahogany.

Nodding and agreeing with an especially gaunt, overcast-eyed woman's
comment, the Jester keeps reading. "Seems the notes are in on it too. There
are rare notes that go about beating other notes up. They get measured
up before handed off to their quarters. Then more beatings. Seems a
tough life, being a note, also for those who are round and full and are
not carrying any sticks or flags around."

"Right! Singing," Orban pauses to draw a deep breath, pacing the stage
with unhurried steps. "Singing is essentially about the proper
application of breath. While factors such as tone, diction, and
intonation are incredibly important, everything falls apart without
sufficient breath control. You might be surprised how much of a
difference small changes can make. For example - I want you to stand
up as straight as you can and take a slow, deep breath just as you
normally would."

An especially gaunt, overcast-eyed woman's attention shifts from you
to Orban, brows lifting minutely. Aside to the former she replies in
her murmuring voice, "Sounds awful..."

Dolly grumbles just a bit and doesn't really stand up so much as rolls
to her feet, rocking forward, then throwing her momentum backwards,
planting her hands as her feet swing over and then launching herself
to her feet, which would have been executed perfectly were it not for
the load of a brass buckled shoulder-strapped off-white leather
satchel slightly throwing her balance off center and providing its own
resistance to motion. She straighten, stips the bag from swinging and
takes a deep breath, the action causing a slight rise in her
shoulders.

"Things are looking up for the notes" The Jester says happily as she reads
on. "Now they've gotten a nice tonic to ease the pain from their
beats. Lots of staves and staffs around still though. And this major
'triad' - I think it might be some secret society of shady notes - are
the ones keeping everyone with tonics, no doubt for a hefty fee."

"The instinctive way that we breathe, when not taught otherwise,
raises the shoulders and expands the upper chest - just as you just
breathed," Orban lectures to Dolly. "Finer breath control, however,
can be achieved by concentrating on a slow, even inhalation around the
diaphragm. I want you to take another deep breath now, but focus on
filling your lungs completely without moving your shoulders one
bit. It'll feel very strange at first, so give it a couple of tries to
get into the rhythm." He glances the jester's way, smile twitching at his
lips.

An especially gaunt, overcast-eyed woman drifts her gaze back to you,
blinking. "That's quite a... story you have there, miss..." She
purses her lips.

Dolly nods a bit and says, "Like a swimming
breath.. Ugh.. Breathing like that usually makes me light headed." She
takes a couple normal breaths, catches a bit more air on the end of
the second one, and then locks her posture in that naturally inflated
position, exhales heavily, as if pushing out for as much air as she
can muster, then takes a deep breath, her capacity seeming as much
limited by the snugness of her bodice as it is by her actual capacity.

"They are having accidents now" the Jester says, curiously flipping the
pages, picking out key words and seemingly interpreting them her own
way. She nods to an especially gaunt, overcast-eyed woman, "I know!
This music business is a serious shock! Them notes live a really scary
life. So, now they are having accidents- accidentals. And one of them
just went completely flat from it. Another is falling down on sharp
things ..." she gazes forward on the page - "and this poor sucker got
double-flatted! Ouch! I didn't realize Orbie wrote horror fiction!"

An especially gaunt, overcast-eyed woman blinks a little blankly at
you, but nods once nonetheless. "I see... I see..." She rubs a
thumb over the wood grain on a triangular-shaped lap harp artfully
crafted from mahogany.

"It's definitely an unnatural feeling until you get used to it," Orban
agrees, watching Dolly intently. "You may want to loosen your stays
just a little - not enough to threaten your virtue, of course," he
notes dryly, "but it's hard to get a real lungful when you're laced up
good and tight. You get the idea, however. Now, only half of the
battle is getting the air. The other half is using it properly."

Dolly nods and says, a bit bashfully, "Push from the gut,
right?.. That's what mom always says. Sing from the gut."

The Jester's eyes go wide as she keeps reading, flipping the
pages. "They have found a key now, maybe to their salvation from the
slavery of the staves. But the 'signature' - that's like a prophesy I
think - say that seven must die on sharp things and seven be
flattened. Them the breaks I guess. The major slave staves don't want
to hear anything of this of course. They just sit drinking their
tonics and look condacending." She shows an especially gaunt,
overcast-eyed woman a page littered with descriptions of musical
nomenclature. "See! Here's how their forces are organized. How can the
poor notes ever escape?"

"Indeed, that's definitely part of it." Orban flashes Dolly an easy
smile. "But you have to be careful not to push too hard. Good tone
flows naturally, with a continual and steady exhalation. On one end,
it can sound forced-" He pauses to belt out a loud, somewhat strident
'Aaaah', tone overly brassy. "On the other end, it can sound breathy."
His tone, his voice sounds a wispy, colorless 'aaah'. "What you want
is to focus the sound so that it's strong without requiring-" A snort
of laughter escapes him, perhaps due to the jester, but he clears his
throat. "Requiring... oversinging, sorry."

Dolly bites at her lower lips and seems she's been distracted now by
the jester's take on the book.

An especially gaunt, overcast-eyed woman draws away from the jester
reflexively, but furrows her brows and leans forward again, studying
the page. "Ah. .. Hmm... Yes... I know some of those words," an
especially gaunt, overcast-eyed woman tells you astutely.

The Jester nods to an especially gaunt, overcast-eyed woman, "Aye,
this is a tome of much drama, as you can see." Flipping it back
towards herself she continues, for a moment reading silently. "O-oh,
the triads jump back into the fray" you referees, "there is a vicious
battle between the augmented triad, the diminished triad and the minor
triad. But it turns out they are all controlled behind the scenes by the
dominant seventh, throwing dissonance among their ranks! Wow, I sure
didn't see that one coming." She flips on, only to find the book is at
an end. "... but what happened to the notes?" she wonders. "Did they
escape in the turmoil?" She turns the book cover over, as if trying to
see if there is more text to be had on that side. "... or is that to
be revealed in the sequel?"

"Trouble!" Orban shouts laughingly from on-stage. "Stop being so
bloody funny when I'm trying to be a serious teacher here! Or better
yet, write all of that down so you can perform it again later!"

An especially gaunt, overcast-eyed woman blinks at Orban, glancing
back and forth between her and Orban. She turns her head
inquisitively, asking innocently, "What? What's so funny?"

Dolly giggles softly and says, "Sounds a little tragic from what I'm
catching."

"Whaaa-aat did I do?" the Jester calls back to Orban with a hurt tone,
"Is it -my- fault you write such drama? And you guys should be
practicing anyway, not listening to me! Focus! And shame on you,
master Orban, I would think you had not taken time to properly read
your own book." She shrugs to an especially gaunt, overcast-eyed
woman, "Don't mind them, friend" she says. "No laughing matter this,
notes being all manhandled like that."

[Another]

I remember this. Good times.

[Kinaed]

Oh, that was a great read. Thanks!