Xander Wilson (risinghellborn) wrote in halcyon_halls, @ 2008-09-17 23:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | jaida, xander |
Week 18: Tuesday Evening
Who: Xander and Jaida
Where: Music Clubroom
When: Tuesday night starting at 8.
The day had been entertaining, he could say that much at the very least. Much to the annoyance of certain members of the female gender, Xander always did like a little variety in his meals. He knew that sooner or later, the school would growl at him for feeding on the other students, but he really didn’t see any other way around things. Sure, he could always go to the clubs and feed off everyone, but that was far more dangerous of the options. And it wasn’t like the school kept bottled lust around like it did for vampires. So, when left with the choice of feeding off students and breaking the rules, or heading into town and risking upsetting older more powerful supernaturals, Xander picked the easier of the two options.
And he made sure he had been well fed for the evening, just so that hunger wouldn’t distract him. After all, he knew just how hot the muse was, as he shared several classes and a club with her. Even then, he knew he was going to get distracted somewhat, but hopefully it wasn’t going to be too bad. If it was, he had only himself to blame in the long run, as he knew what he was getting into. But, with the fact the song stuck in his head just wouldn’t allow itself to be finished, he figured there was no harm in trying. Worst thing that was going to happen was that he would fail with the song, but then that’d happen whether he risked it or not.
So, long before Jaida was actually supposed to meet him there, Xander was in the music clubroom. He had his laptop setup on the side, as well as a microphone. Sometimes the newest software around made things so much easier. This particular bit would create the sheet music for whatever sounds were playing at the time. It made things so much easier, as he wouldn’t have to remember each and every note and rift he did while he was creating and write it down. Or try to write without playing. That was often even more frustrating.
When Jaida did arrive, he was sitting in the back, his guitar across his lap as his fingers worked the strings. His full attention was on his music, as he strummed out a lively little tune. His eyes were closed, and he wasn’t even paying attention to the computer string, or the time. Nor would he even realize that anyone else had entered the room.