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Post by Tori on Sept 23, 2007 0:57:24 GMT -6
G G Bb Bb G D F G......G G Bb C C# C# Bb G G.....G G D, F... no...shit...
Ruana Sremmos walked down the corridor, dressed in denim capri pants and a blue t-shirt, lugging a large black case alongside herself. She'd been reviewing the notes in her head for one of her favorite songs, Moanin', but alas, she'd forgotten the last part of that melody. Again. Sighing, the head girl continued on her voyage to the dueling hall, where the first rehearsal for the jazz band was to be held. Tenor Saxophone in hand, Ruana decided she'd play through the song once she got there and carve the notes onto her brain.
Noticing that her right hand was starting to ache, Ruana shifted the case to her other arm and continued. Less than a minute later, Ruana found herself outside the dueling hall, sax in one hand, folder in the other, sighing, the girl set down her heavy case and pried open the door, where she was surprised to see only one other person. She must be early. Smiling at said person, Ruana walked over to the wall, set down her case, and began assembling her instrument to the background music of the bass trombone player jamming to Turnpike.
Reed in mouth, Ruana carried her saxophone over to where first tenor always sits and took her seet, hooking her neckstrap onto the instrument. Once the reed was good and moistened, the head girl fastened it to her ligature and made a few last adjustments before beginning to warm up. Tuning first, scales next. Bb concert, F concert, Eb concert, and Ab concert. A few chromatics and chorales, and she was good to go. Taking a dee breath, Ruana began to play, a warm, rich sound coming from her horn. She played until she figured out the final notes of that melody.
. . . . . .
Alfred Warhol was always early to a class, especially one he liked. Even though Take Five wasmore of an extracurricular activity, he counted it as a class, but one he loved. Al had taken up trombone at the age of ten and had been playing ever since. A natural talent for music ran in the family, and Al could find nothing he liked more than to play his trombone. So when he arrived at the dueling hall early, it gave him extra time to practice, tune, warm up, and just play a bit.
After his warming up and tuning, AJ took out one of his many folders, pulled out the sheet music for Turnpike by J.J Johnson and began to play it. J.J. Johnson was, in his opinion, the best trombonist to have ever roamed the earth. Turnpike had some tenor sax harmonies in it, too, so maybe he could make a copy of the sheet music for the first chair tenor and they could learn it.
Speak of the devil, Al thought as the door opened and in walked Ruana Sremmos, head girl, vocalist and first chair tenor. She was an accomplished girl who had feelings. AJ respected her. Maybe she was nice, too. Maybe she wouldn't hire her friends to beat him up. Well, they have one thing in common, he noted to himself as she began playing Moanin'. They loved music and were good at it. Maybe his love of jazz would make him a lifelong friend or two.
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Post by .Scotchy. on Sept 23, 2007 11:16:18 GMT -6
Dani's big brown eyes stared at the little preppy girl standing in front of her. She was wearing probably the girliest clothing she had ever seen. The top was striped diagonally, with hot pink, a soft yellow, perhaps a lime-ish green, white, and black. It was a bit long, so it should her figure a bit better than other things, and it had a round sleeve. She had on a light pair of jeans that, of course, flared out a bit at the end, to match her little outfit she had on white flats with a buckle on the side, and if Dani was seeing correctly some jewl stuff on the side. It was completely horrifying, well if Dani had to wear it, she'd shriek. The blonde, blue eyed girl blinked at her, with one of the sourest scowls on the planet. Which of course didn't look right with all her pretty pretty clothing, and her braided pigtails. Which of course Dani couldn't keep her eyes off of. Braided pigtails... but they were lose, making some of her layered strands stick out, it was something Dani had worn before. But now she wasn't sure if she wanted to do that hair style again.
"Please 'elp me."
Dani was so focused on how she was just wearing grey basketball shorts, a white t-shirt with some red/orange writing on it, and a navy blue hoody (not zipped up), that she didn't hear the little french girls voice. Absentmindedly, Dani had raised her arm and patted her head, which was in a nice ponytail (except for her bangs), and then pointed to Elle's hair.
"What?" Elle snapped, "Are you gonna 'elp me or what?"
Dani looked at Elle in the eyes, "With what?"
"Weet zis! What do you zink I was doing weet ze tugging, and 'eavy, and whining, and unable to move zis 'umungus zing!"
Ellendie's hand pointed violently at a huge black case, that most likely weighed more than Elle. Dani walked, towards it, wondering what was it in, but then remembering that today was the first band rehearsal thingie. Which of course Dani would not be participating in. She was not a band player, didn't know a single note, or any instruments. And the last time she checked, neither did Elle. "I thought you didn't know how to play an instrument..."
"I don't." Elle mumbled as she grabbed ahold of a section, and motioned Dani to do the same.
Obediently, Dani grabbewd a side, and helped Elle towards the Dueling Hall. "Well if you don't know how to play, why do it? And why did you pick something that is so big?"
"When you are friends weet, Ru, you do as she says. And plus, I am a fast learner, I weel get ze 'ang of eet." They made their way down the hall, Elle's shoes making slight noise on the cold hard floor, and Dani's bandaid covered feet didn't make much of a noise. "And I chose zis, because eet was beeg, and pretty."
Dani rolled her eyes and pushed the big blank trunk thing, through the door, as Elle held it open. "As long as you have fun I guess..." Dani helped Ellendie set up her stuff, and then migrated over to the side of the wall, where she pressed against it, and slid down, holding her knees close to her chest. Her brown eyes looked down at the florecent colored bandaids, that weren't as plentiful as before, but there was still some covering her feet, and the bottom of her feet. She was slowly getting her room fixed up.
"Ok Ru, now what do I do?" asked a very frustrated, and uncertain Elle.
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Oliver Spence. Just that name should make you shiver. He is probably the meanest jerk you will ever meet in Hogwarts. He has dark brown, almost black hair, that is usually unkempt, and deep rich blue eyes that make the ladies swoon (if they manage to get close to him). He is a good looking guy, no doubt, but the personality, smartass mixed with just a plain out jerk, don't get him many dates. And he prefers it that way to be honest. Though if he does like one, he is probably the best boyfriend you will ever have. Even though he is a well known jerk, and hardcore kid, he has things he actually likes and will actually get there on time for. And one of these things, is music, or well, band. Surprisingly the kid is real good at drums, or how Apple would say it, percussion. It may be to just torture kids more, or it maybe to get girls, but he joined Jazz Band, and was getting there on time despite what his friends might say.
He had his drums already in the Dueling Hall, so when he was walking down the hall he just had the drum sticks. He walked bobbing his head to some music he head on his mind, and was pretending he was playing the drum part, by wacking the sticks around in air. He liked playing on the drum set, but he could the littler thing for Jazz Band, it wouldn't be much of a difference. As he walked, pretending to play drums, some of the students that walked past him started to jog away, like he might attack them with the flailing drumsticks. Which, he was highly considering on doing.
But before he managed to attack a random kid in the hall, he came on to the doors of the Dueling Hall. He opened it and stared at the kids that were in it. Most of them he hated. Al Woohol, or whatever his name was, was in it, and the Ruppie chick, whom he hadn't been able to make fear him yet, and the nurse, so he would most likely have to behave himself around her, the little french girl, that he was now slightly scared of, because the little thing packed a punch, and the once cool sporty girl, now turning emo (which he hated emo kids), was sitting on the wall. He wanted to slap the emoness out of her. But instead of doing anything he just went towards his drums. He was going to at least try tp not punch one of them.
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Post by Stockmon on Sept 23, 2007 14:42:36 GMT -6
Casey Christos was not a morning person, as it happened, he was not an afternoon, or evening person either. You could call him a night person, but he didn’t have a real specific liking for time. It was the place that mattered most to the eighth year, and some people did not understand this. He was considered a night person only because that was when he liked to do most of his work. At night, when he could focus without any distractions. But today was all about focus, and distractions, not, sadly, the lack there of.
Casey heard his alarm go off, and he pushed his eyes open. Where was that annoying bird? This “alarm” was an enchanted humming bird his mother had insisted upon him keeping, it woke him each morning when he needed to be woken, unless he could find a way to silence it. Right now the bird was flying away quickly, but he knew it would be back as soon as he closed his eyes and tried to fall back asleep, that was the ability of this accursed bird. Casey gave in. He rolled out of his bed and onto the floor, where he considered his options. Get dressed, or pack? Which to do first? He chose to get dressed. It seemed like it might take more energy, and thus wake him up fastest. Efficiency was important to Casey.
He pulled his plaid button up shirt over a white undershirt and some black jeans, which made him at least a little happier. Jeans were good, and so were hiking boots, which he also put on. He ran a hand through his hair by way of combing and grabbed his hat. The hat, which occasionally stayed on his head even whilst he slept, was the most important part of the ensemble, obviously. He pulled the hat on snugly, and let his hair fall over his eyes. Casey quickly found his musical equipment, a black trumpet hidden in it’s case at the bottom of his trunk. He glared at it, as if daring it to come to class with him, daring it to annoy him. It dared. He grabbed the case and pulled, knocking a few small items out of the trunk as it came, but he could not be bothered to pick them up. It was not as if the rest of his dorm room was very cleanly. But Casey was usually articulate in his cleaning, making sure no one get to see more of his personal belongings than necessary. But today was the first day of jazz band, so his mind was not focused on cleaning.
As he walked down the hall with his trumpet at his side. He really didn’t enjoy playing the trumpet, it seemed like all his favorite jazz music was just fine without any trumpet, which was an upsetting revelation. He had learned to play the tenor sax, to appease his mother, when he was a young boy. But then he’d started to become overly interested in sax, his mother didn’t want him to become a musician, so she made him learn to trumpet. This was not to say she thought the trumpet was not a good musical instrument, just that if he stopped focusing so much on his sax, he wouldn’t be so fast moving toward becoming a musician. But of course, when she found out he wanted to be a spy, she encouraged his musical side all the more fervently. But Casey never liked the trumpet, although he owned one. His mother had guilted him into joining the jazz band, in particular a trumpet part, because they needed more trumpets, he scowled. It was all a plan to brainwash students anyway, he supposed.
When he reached the dueling hall, the location chosen for practice, he was not disappointed. Only a few people there, that was good. Casey took his seat, fiddling with the instrument he hadn’t used in over a year, except for her fevering practice over the last week. He’d seen this thing used so much it gave him a headache just thinking about it. He hadn’t played any of his favorite songs, particularly Tenor Madness and My Favorite Things, which probably would have eased his mind. But luckily for Casey, he never forgot something once he figured it out, and he sounded just as he had years ago when he practiced daily, and didn’t hate it. Today might prove to be less than enjoyable, but it might be fun, if he liked the music. Casey being a very temperamental person when it came to music. At least what Ruana, who Casey mentally called Sremmos, was playing something nice. Spence was there, Casey ignored him, for lack of anything better to avoid a fight. And some others, but Casey wasn’t paying much attention to them.
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Post by purrfection on Sept 23, 2007 16:02:44 GMT -6
Ike Barringer could not believe his luck. About five months ago, his Uncle Herman had witnessed a murder of some dude in downtown London. It was a gory murder, all drawn-out and bloody. Herman had sent Ike a letter describing the incident in great detail. According to him, it all began when some dude with a brown leather case filled with money had exited a pub on one of the dicey-est street corners in the area and got jumped by a local transvestite. The ruckus that ensued was more fun for the witnesses than the victim (a small crowd gathered nearby to watch). Well, the transvestite cut up the guy pretty bad with what Herman suspected to be a crazy straw (he could not see particularly well from a distance, and it was dark out)--he lost so much blood right there on the street that it killed him. The transvesite then grabbed the leather case and opened it, and that's when it became clear that the whole thing was a big misunderstanding; instead of being filled with money, the case had in it a beaten up old trumpet. The transvesite got angry and slit his own throat with the crazy straw, and that's when Herman had the chance to run out in the middle of the street, snatch up the case and the trumpet, and run back to his home behind the dumpster at the rear of a McDonald's restuarant. He had sent the instrument to Ike the following day.
Ike loved his trumpet. Not only could he hit things with it and cause significant damage, he could blast really loud, high notes and make everyone in the halls jump in surprise. Ike could not read music, but he did not consider this a detriment of any sort. He could just as easily learn a song by ear than by reading it off the page.
So anyway, Ike could not believe his luck. About a week ago, when he was taste-testing the odd fungus in the corner of his dorm, he'd heard someone down in the common room carrying on about someone starting a jazz band. After a little investigation on the matter (biting students until they talked), he found that his house mates had been correct: Hogwarts was starting a jazz band. This was the perfect oppportunity for Ike to show off his m4d skillz. So the morning the first rehearsal was scheduled, Ike got up early, covered himself in Axe, a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt, pieced together his trumpet right there in the dormatory, and pranced down the corridor to the Dueling Hall, blinding passerby with the reflective glare of his semi-shiny instrument in the process.
The Dueling Hall already had some people in it, but not many. They all had instruments of their own. First and foremost, Ike spotted Elle. She had with her a gigantic shiny thingy of which Ike did not know the name. His mouth became an 'o' shape as he stared at it. "Shiiiiiiiiiiny..." Near Elle sat Ru, who also had a shiny thing. Ike was overwhelmed with the shiny-ness. He proceeded to pounce the two girls.
"ELLE, ELLE, ELLE, RU, RU, RU, ELLE, RU, ELLE, RU!!" He pushed some of the pearl-white buttons on each of their instruments before practically crawling over them (and almost taking out Ru with the bell of his trumpet). The next person in his line of sight was the nurse, Katharine Moss. He awarded her with a professional greeting. "Yo, Kat-nizzle in da hizzle, waz crackin'?" He looked at the huge slab of wood standing next to her. "That's an ugly piece of wood," he said, looking at it thoughtfully. Next to the wood was an assortment of drums. Ike looked about the room, trying to associate them with someone. His eyes came to rest on Oliver Spence, who was walking toward the drums, drumsticks in hand. Ike hated Oliver, so he kicked the bass drum and hit the dented bell of his trumpet on the ride cymbal before clamboring over to the second stool in a row at the very back, next to Casey Christos.
Casey had a black trumpet and Ike stared at it for a moment before saying, "Mine's shinier!" and beginning to rock back and forth on his stool.
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Post by yuko on Oct 14, 2007 19:56:04 GMT -6
Not a word. Not a word from anyone did Yuko want to hear from about the fact that she had a hobby that wasn’t being rude or just plain out for her own well being. She didn’t want to, but when she saw the notices about a jazz band, Yuko couldn’t help but get out the only good gift her mother had ever given her. It wasn’t new, and it had lost its shine years ago, but as she looked at it, opening it’s case just slightly at the side of her bed, a small and genuine small formed on the Slytherin’s face. Her Alto Saxophone was as beautiful to her as ever, and her talent for playing it was one she hid quite well. Yuko didn’t want to seem soft, but in her heart she held a spot for music that could hardly ever be quenched.
Shutting the case, latching it, and placing it on her bed, Yuko looked into a mirror to get ready for the first practice. The nerves lurched within her stomach, and she was already planning the verbal attacks in her mind if anyone even said one peep to her that could have been taking at mocking. She’d show anyone who decided to be smart.
Yuko brushed her brunette locks, and wasted time, still half way decided whether or not she really wanted to go. She didn’t know anyone who was going to be in her section, and frankly she didn’t care. Yuko was taking the time off to do something for herself for once and she wasn’t about to let anyone ruin it for her, though as she continued to think about it, it only worried her a little more. No one would care, and if anyone did, well she knew how to handle such situations.
She sighed, and laid the brush she held on her bed, her jeans a nice shade of blue with a pastel blue top to match covered her body as she had decided they’d do just fine for a rehearsal that could even have been her last. Yuko still hadn’t decided yet if she would stay in the Jazz Band or not. It all depended on that day and what happened. If she didn’t enjoy it, she’d never go back. It wasn’t as if that solution hadn’t worked in the past.
Alto Sax in hand, she walked down toward the Dueling Hall where the band was meeting. Entering was easy. No one that she really paid much attention to was there, a boy she had seen from her house but not really anyone else that may bother her. Good. It was an excellent start to this rehearsal. And better yet, she was the only Alto Sax, which really soothed what soul Yuko claimed to have. Just beautiful.
Taking a seat, she took out her Sax and placed the reed in her mouth gently. All she needed was a splinter in the tongue the first day. Getting ready, she watched the front and then studied the crowd. Maybe she had worried for nothing. Maybe, she was home free.
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Post by Gin on Oct 20, 2007 22:59:28 GMT -6
[[ This is Erin's guitar.]] A normal day would have started with Erin waking to the light sounds of jazz on her radio that had an unprogramed knack for starting up at 6:30, regardless of what time she set the alarm for. She would have sighed, rolled over, and fallen off the bed onto a stack of pillows she had arranged for such mornings. Martyn would have crawled out of the open drawer he slept in and jumped down onto her head. Erin would have started and then pulled the ferret off her head to set him down in the sink while she took a shower. He would have fallen off the counter and wormed his way into the water gathering in the bottom of the tub. When she got out, Erin would scold him and lay him on a hand towel so he could roll and dry himself off. She would have then proceeded to dry herself and slip on her cloths to continue with the day. But today was not normal. Her alarm clock was apparently having some self-conscious thoughts about it's sounds in the morning and had chosen not to wake her up. This allowed the Gryffindor to sleep an extra hour of sleep until Martyn realized he had not had the chance to fall on her head yet that morning. He promptly fufilled his duty and leapt at her exposed ear. Erin woke with a screech and sat up, clutching her ear. Martyn squeaked and landed with a dull thump on the wooden floor. Erin felt bad and scrambled down to the floor, falling herself, to scoop up the ferret. He chattered angerly at her so she set him down, going into the shower, shutting the door without looking back. She came out half an hour later in a lavender mini skirt and a sleeveless white blouse that barely reached the top line of her skirt. There was still a towel being dabbed and ruffled through her short, blonde hair. It was already dry enough for a bystander to depict the different highlighted shades but Erin didn't notice. When she was confident she didn't need the towel, she went back to the bathroom for ten minutes of intensive blow-dryer action. It took her that ten minutes to realize she had no idea where her guitar was. Erin came out into the dorm frantic, but dry. It took her another ten minutes to locate the instrument hidden behind her shoes in the closet. Luckily for her, this gave the girl ample time to select the shoes she wanted to wear. She chose a pair of black leather boots and pulled them on, zipping them to the top, mid-calf. Erin strode right into the Dueling Hall, carrying the multi-coloured instrument on a black strap around her neck and shoulder, the guitar swinging against her hip. All of the band was already there--or at least, everyone she knew of that was in the band. She quickly took her place close to the Slytherin practicing on drums. Her new guitar seemed to pale beside his huge set of drums but she didn't care. Her guitar surely had more meaning than did his sticks. Erin smiled at him and brought her guitar around in front of her, hooking it up to the sound system. She, of course, had to bend over to grab the cable, laying on the speaker that didn't come up much farther than the top of her high heeled boots. Once hooked up, she readjusted the strap and looked around the room. There were so many other kids there. A few of the cute boys had decided that jazz band was worth their time. Casey had the look but his was a little too stand-off-ish. Alfred had the brains and maybe some of the look but too self-conscious, or so it appeared. Oilver definitly had the look but he was always rude and snotty. Ike... Well, Ike had nothing. "Ready?" She asked, smiling and ready to begin syncronizing her beat with the others she would be playing with. She really loved jazz, or any music for that matter, and hoped that the others shared her passion. ----- It was so easy for Phin to just pick up in instrument and blow into it. Or, at least, she had thought it would be. Standing in her dorm with the Alto Sax hanging around her neck, she wasn't so convinced. Jazz was not one of her favorite genres, that would be rock, but it was in the top five, if only because the rest of her family loved it. She had recieved the saxophone as a birthday gift some years ago but had never gotten the chance to play it. She had spent the past week digging around for the easy sheet music she had and trying to play it. The sounds that had come out were horribly off key and squeeky sounding. Even asking another girl to help her, Phin had messed up. Eventually, a group of kids had told her nicely to "Shut the hell up!" She obeyed, cringing down onto her blankets. She decided it would be fun to go try something new but wasn't sure how appriciated she would be in a group of good players. Phin had already changed her mind five different times, eventually coming to the choice of trying it this once and then quitting if they hated her. With this decision, she glidded down the stairs and through the halls to the Dueling Hall. A few of the students were already there practicing. The young Ravenclaw snuck in quietly and took her place in the 2nd chair for Altos. There was already a girl in the 1st chair, easily identified as a Slytherin just by that look she had in her eyes. "Hi-lo. I'm Phineas. Call me Phin. Who are you?" Her voice was just a little too cheerful for it being so early in the morning. She smiled over at the girl as she tugged at the strap around her neck, trying to get the sax to lay flat on her lap. ADMIN EDIT: 2 Galleons, Given by Apple
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Post by Tori on Oct 31, 2007 18:35:50 GMT -6
The door opened again, and Ruana smiled around her mouthpiece. After finishing a phrase, she pulled her face away from the metal mouthpiece and layed it across her lap. It was Elle...and Dani, walking--waddling, really--with a huge case. Ruana grinned. Elle had taken Ru's advice and borrowed one of the school's baritone saxes. Maybe Dani was joining, too. Of course, she didn't have an instrument. Maybe she was doing percussion. Or maybe the sax was too heavy for Elle. Deciding on the latter, Ruana smiled and waved to Dani as the girl fled to a corner of the room to watch.
"Ok Ru, now what do I do?"
Ruana looked up to see Ellendie nearly being overthrown by the huge saxophone, as Casey Christos was settling into his seat. She laughed. "Wet your reed," she instructed her friend. "Otherwise you won't be able to make a sound. Sit down, and put the instrument on your right side. When you play, curl your lip over your bottom teeth so it doesn't ruin the reed, but bite down on the top of your mouthpiece. It's not that hard. I'll get you a beginner's book and teach you the basics."
Smiling, Ruana continued playing, deciding to improvise a little in the B flat blues key. Just as she started to do it in swing, the door burst open and Ike bounced in with a rusty looking trumpet. Ruana blinked. Ike was in band?
"Shiiiiiiiiiiny..."
Ruana chortled and rewet her reed, preparing to play some more. Just then...
"ELLE, ELLE, ELLE, RU, RU, RU, ELLE, RU, ELLE, RU!!"
The shock of Ike bouncing all over them rammed Ruana's mouthpiece into her forehead. It being metal, the thing hurt pretty badly. "Ike," she complained, pushing him away and nicking her hand on the trumpet that swung by violently. People like Ike should not be given harmful objects. Flashlights were the limit.
Once Ike was teetering dangerously on his stool away from the saxophone section, Ruana walked up to the front of the room where her case was. The collision with her forehead had damaged her reed, and she needed a new one. As she was returning the old reed and reaching for a new one, the door opened again and Oliver Spence walked in, carrying drumsticks. Ruana scowled. Why did he have to be here? That's almost worse than if Malcom decided to show up, but Ruana hoped he did.
Rolling her eyes, Ruana slipped the reed into her mouth and returned to her seat, watching the remaining students file in. Yuko Akira, the Slytherin she'd run into (literally) a few days before, came in with an alto sax. Erin also came, and Ruana smiled. Erin was nice, and from what she heard, a good guitarist. Another alto sax player waltzed in after Erin, and that was it.
"Ready?"
Ruana looked over. It was Erin, and she was ready. Ruana looked around, and everyone seemed to be ready, except for Elle, who looked lost. "Don't worry about today," Ruana said while nodding to Erin. "Listen, get a feel for the music, and I'll help you out later on. If you can find some notes, go ahead."
Ruana spoke up to the group. "Let's start out going around the room, improvising on a B flat blues scale. Casey will start it off, and then we'll move to the right. How does that sound?" She smiled and looked toward the drumset. "Oliver, wanna give us a beat?" She counted off, snapping her fingers. "Five, six, seven, eight..."
-------
Oh, God, Alfred thought as the door open and he saw familiar flourescent bandaids from beneath a bari sax case. In his shock, the gliss he had started to play turned into an upward gliss and he ended on an impossible note for a bass trombone. Was she in band? Was Dani Carabelle actually in band? But then he saw her walk over to a corner and sit, and he relaxed a little. It would still be hard for him. She was watching. And if he messed up, he was the only bass trombone, and he liked to play loud. It would be a disaster. Inhaling deeply, Al began to play blues scales, double-tonguing everything.
Ike Barringer stumbled in, attacking the Ruana and Ellendie. Casey Christos mounted a stool with his fancy trumpet. Phineas Wicke followed Yuko Akira, both on alto sax. Oliver Spence took his position at the drumset. Ike and Oliver. Both of them, in one room. Alfred stopped playing and scowled in the direction of the door. And if Ike was there, Malcom was bound to show up. Just as long as he didn't play trombone, Al would be fine.
"Let's start out going around the room, improvising on a B flat blues scale. Casey will start it off, and then we'll move to the right. How does that sound? Oliver, wanna give us a beat? Five, six, seven, eight..."
Alfred nodded. The girl knew what she was talking about. In his mind, he thought of a little tune he could play. It was jazzy, nice, but nothing he could butcher. He began tapping his foot with nerves. He could do this. He could.
[[Edit: 2 galleon given by The Galleon Mistress]]
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