07.15.3013: All Hail Pie
Summary: Demos meets Zaniyah, they retire to enjoy pie.
Date: 15th July, 2013
Related: None
Zaniyah Demos 


The Central Arcade
The Westend of Landing is also known as the Entertainment District. It is most active at night, where the neon lights sends the world into a kaleidoscopic glow. The Central Arcade is a wide, circular plaza with various thoroughfares spreading out like spokes on a wheel into the various regions of the district. At the center of the arcade is a round stage that nightly hosts various musical artists and groups to keep the party going even between venues. Neon piping is inlaid into the cement, creating various geometric patterns and creating pathways to various nightclubs and restaurants. AMP and Red Eye dealers covertly move through the crowds, trading doses for currency.

During the day, the Arcade is far quieter and more law-abiding, though by no means empty.

07.15.3013

The neon of night has faded from Westend, leaving the dull cement as the prominent color in the plaza. Indeed, even with the sun overhead, the neon inlay of the cement itself is dim compared to the vibrancy it holds at night time. Not to say Westend is without color during the day, just that it is quite the different character. Fewer denizens are drawn to the luster, less activity, indeed some might say it borders on a particular quiet. Clusters of activity and noise abound here and there, but the entire area is not made into one cacophony of sight and sound during daylight hours.

For Demos Osteros, that is probably preferable for now, so that he can focus on the smart device he holds in his hand. A clear flimsy from the outside, the device displays information in his direction only, leaving it transparent for all else. He could most likely see through it if he wished as well, but instead focuses on whatever is on display. For the moment he is not concentrating on what is around him, but then with some disappointment, he begins to look around. His eyes move over dominant land marks as if he is trying to recall where he is, or making note so he doesn't get lost, then they wander to the other people. The device held in disappointment at his side, as if he could lift it up to be discouraged more or at least hopeful of some change should he hold it away from his face long enough.

Day time is not one of those times when Zaniyah Eastman is found wandering around. But some days it does happen. The main reason for this being - groceries. Yes, even budding rock stars have to eat, and Zani is no exception. She is used to Westend, living here, working here often enough, and thus her steps are light, quick and determined as she moves through the streets, arms full with a basket, and three or four bags. She stops at one point, setting things down briefly to give her fingers a rest, using the opportunity to glance around and watch people for a moment or two. Her gaze finds the fellow looking around like he might be lost, and she frowns slightly, as she picks up her bags and the basket, working with a fine balancing act.

Not having noticed the look or frown, Demos' eyes too find Zaniyah in the mix of daytime people in Westend and taking note of the fine balancing ackt of basket and bags, he comes to a conclusion. Whatever it was that disappointed him is tucked away, the flimsy device tucked into an inside pocket of his doublet as he makes steps to interede the woman with the groceries. Not trying to intrude, when he is within a few paces and well outside her personal space, he calls, "Apologies My Lady, perhaps you wouldn't mind a third or fourth hand with your bags?" Spoken as one who probably wouldn't think to hassel and make off with free goods, and a genuine smile touching at the corner of his lips. Disappoinment forgotten, real offer.

Zani pauses at the title offered, and she chuckles softly. "No fine lady here, I'm afraid. Citizen will do," she says, as she looks up to see who it is that is there speaking with her. "And a good day to you, Sir." Her gaze goes over the man briefly, mostly taking in the clothing, and then she says, "If you don't mind, I can't say it's an easy chore to lug this all. But - a necessary one." There is a brief smile, that goes along with that, almost rueful. "Though if you're going to help with groceries, I do feel we should at least introduce ourselves. I'm Zaniyah Eastman."

Holding out his hands, he'll take whatever she offers over, hangs from his hand, or stacks on his arms. Demos nods, "Well, Ms. Zaniyah, the pleasure would be mine. I am no Sir, simply a citizen the same." As if that explains it, no matter what she hands over, he won't complain and will gladly accept as if he were a porter. "I am Demos Osteros, scholar by training and trade. Of the Ring," as if to disassociate with the Academ itself. His eyes turn back to look at a particularly tall building a moment, following the lines in the ground, along the cement, in the other buildings back to himself. "This is your home then, you frequent Westend I mean?" It is asked curiously, as if to pass time while he helps with the bags.

Zani passes over some of the bags, so that she can manage to take care of the basket herself. It's got the breakable stuff in it, of course. "Thank you," she says, with a bow of her head. "And a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Demos Osteros." She grins, and then she half shrugs, delicately. "I went to the Academ, on a scholarship. And now I have the best job ever - I play keyboards in a band." She points over towards the Sunset Tower and says, "I have an apartment over that away. And what about you? Still living over in the Rings?" She doesn't start walking yet, rather waiting to make sure that all the bags are taken care of, adjusted and ready to go first. There are folks still coming and going, but with the two stopped, it's not difficult to go around them, and in the light of day, that's what generally happens, as there's no excuse to bring a potential pickpocket closer.

He is indeed ready to go, and when an apartment is indicated, Demos turns in that direction. His attention moves from guessing which location might house her apartment in front of them, to the buildings closest to them, to her face and eyes. Mostly he smiles just a shade more when he chances upon her face. As if he he couldn't control that so much, little adjustments are made with the bags, he stimply keeps his body rigidly stoic as he holds them safe, even if he doesn't have the most valuable of items within them. "A band, perhaps that is the best job ever if one is musically inclined. I fear my position would probably be boring by comparison. I finished upper level field work through the Academ, attained full Scholar, but my interest is on the Ring. I do live regularly there, but keep a small studio in Detritus still." Not sure who keeps up with the ten moons of Occulus, he adds, "That is on Inculta. I have ventured away from the Academ, but I still enjoy travelling. Especially while pouring over data following results of current studies."

Then he realizes he's been going on too much about himself, with a sheepish grin he gives her another look, "What of this band you are in, maybe I have heard of them." Though his musical taste might be esoteric at best, if not downright out there.

Zani listens to the man as he goes on about where he lives and his studies. She smiles, amusement flickering across her face. "It sounds like you very much enjoy your work, so I think perhaps for you it is the best job ever." She tilts her head briefly, considering her geography, and then she nods. "You looked almost like you were lost earlier, come to think of it. I was going to ask you if you needed directions." And then, she starts walking, taking a few steps towards the tower in question, before she pauses to look back at Demos. The look serves two purposes, to make sure he is in fact coming along and not really absconding with her purchases, but also to see the expression on his face. "The band I play with is called 'Hell If I Know' and it's a rock band."

When she turns to look back, Demos' face shows a curious smile, something between the relization that she would quickly notice he does have perhaps the best job from his own perspective as well the being lost. The smile grows at the name of her band, as if that plays into the idea that he might of been confused. He can't help a chuckle from escaping, "Lost, perhaps not physically, but metaphorically …" He shrugs, doesn't finish with a 'meh' sound so much as leaves it up for rhetoric. "Why, do I come off as easily lost?" Despite his smile, his sense of fashion, and anything else that might place him as potentially lost or out of place, it is sincere if not slightly teasing to see if she might simply say he looks completely lost.

Zani laughs at that, a bright and happy sound. "No, not necessarily. It's more, it looked like you were trying to read a map," she explains. There is good humoured teasing in her voice though, as she adds, "And as for being easily lost, well, you'd have to tell me. Metaphorically?" Yes, she asked, because that does sound like reason to wonder. "Here I thought I was the only one who gets accused of being metaphorically lost. Or at least, lost in my metaphors." She knows it, but can't seem to do anything about it. "Do you listen to rock music?" Hey, at least she doesn't assume everyone knows HIIK, unlike some members of the band.

That the assumption wasn't made (that he should know HIIK), Demos is unconsciously thankful. "I listen to unquantified quasar baset electronica," he says as if the explains it all and knowing she just said rock music, he explains lightly, "Its various radio waves and natural rhthyms translated into music and sort of ortchestrated on a cristal bashet or similar synthesizer." As if that explains it all, but by the blush to his cheeks, even though he likes it he's a little embarassed to admit it. "And yes, metaphorically, I know precisely where I am, but I am curious how I came to be here. Curious if I made the decision to come to the landing, or if there was another cause behind it all. But here I am, carrying the bags for a rather good looking citizen and pulling away from my data to realize I could simply enjoy the day." Then, his eyes squint a little, hopefully that's not too weird eitehr.

Zani sort of stops in her tracks and stares at Demos as he explains what exactly he likes to listen to, by way of music. The blush to his cheeks makes her realize that she is staring, and she looks down at her basket, reaching a hand to adjust the position of something inside it before she looks up again. "I don't - can that be played on a keyboard?" she asks, half teasing. She then shakes her head at the rest of the statement, her own cheeks going a bit pink as she gets flirted with. And he probably didn't even see her concert garb either. "You could just enjoy the day, certainly. And thank you - that's a lovely compliment." She leaves off the talk about metaphor, not quite sure they're talking about the same thing. "Though I have to put my groceries away before I can do anything else. Or I won't be eating this week."

"I think it can be," says Demos as if at random to her responses, "With a moog, but I believe its more orchestrated in that the keyboardist would decide which sounds to loop or alter based on how the data is …" Another pause, maybe asking about the music and how to play it was rhetoric in itself, a tease of him. Then he shakes his head before he steps further down that road. "Or, its decided then, enjoy the day." He has to think a moment on what the compliment was, but there is a godo pause as she inidicates she needs to put her groceries away. "Oh yes, sorry Zaniyah, I don't mean to steal your time away, you've more important things to do." As if realizing she doesn't want him coming up or in, he holds his hands up a little, in case she would like to take the bags over to her aparment. "If you want to save the groceries for later in the week, I could treat to food now. Break out of my shell some, learn more about music?"

Zani laughs at that. "If you don't mind waiting in the lobby, I won't be but long enough to put things away, and then I can bring my keyboard with me. If we're going to talk about music, we should perhaps play some. Do you sing?" she asks, that definitely a tease. She tilts her head, waiting to see what the answer is, stopped pretty much at the door to the tower. "Or of course you could go off on your own?" she adds. "I mean, if you weren't intending to invite me to spend some time with you." Then the line about lunch, and Zani chuckles. "We can certainly see about lunch, if you like." She doesn't seem opposed to the idea at the least.

Slightly serious perhaps, as if Demos is not really in the habit of ever asking lovely women to really do anything with himself. His voice shakes just a little as some endorphines or adrenaline pumps into his system. "No, I didn't want to go off on my own, I just didn't want to assume anything. Lunch and music is good, or whatever would suit the day," a slight pause a bigger jump of that surge, quaver in his voice, "If you don't mind spending more time with a dolt." Elsewise, if left to his own device, he'd honestly probably find a cafe, order food and return to data and interpretations. "I can certainly wait a moment here." Then he grins just the same, glad for the way the day has gone, despite whatever caused the earlier disappointment in his features.

Zani chuckles softly, and then nods her head. "I don't mind at all," she says first, and then, "And you're not a dolt." That said, she offers a friendly smile and then takes her shopping bags, disappearing into the building. She takes herself swiftly up to her apartment, and makes sure to put away anything that might possibly go bad. That's fairly straightforward and doesn't take too long. The rest of the items purchased she leaves temporarily on the counter. Then she grabs her keyboard case, turning to head back down. As fast as she might be, it's still a few minutes of time, leaving poor Demos all by himself to have second and third thoughts.

In that time she takes, there is plenty of opportunity to brood upon self-doubt and Demos doesn't hold back so much. Such that after a few minutes, he'll be pacing slightly where he was left, looking between the current tower she had led him too and one of the taller, more recognizable ones. As well, a smooth green rock similar to jade has found its way out from some pocket or pouch of his and into a free hand. There a thumb has taken feeling that smooth surface as if looking for some surface imperfection. All the while, his other hand has patted at the outside of his doublet, over the area where the data device was tucked in earlier as if seeing that its still there while some portion of his mind considers whatever data he was recently looking at. Give another few mintues, he might start to carve the floor as he paces.

As Zani comes back, it happens to be while Demos is pacing. She pauses as she regards him, watching for a moment. And then she comes through the door, the black case slung over a shoulder, HIIK written on it in a rainbow of colour. "My apologies - I hope I didn't take too long?" she says, as she arrives. A gentle smile, and if she took a few moments to freshen her makeup, well, who could blame her? "I tried to be fairly swift, but you know, slow and steady wins the pie and all." She smiles a bit, kind of glad that he didn't leave while she was otherwise occupied. "Did you have any idea where we might go to enjoy the day? Maybe the gardens?"

If he was worried, and she probably caught that before he has time to mask his emotions, Demos turns to her voice with a smile that says otherwise. Manners dictate him saying otherwise, "No trouble at all, rather worth the wait I would say." His smile a little more relaxed and forthcoming than before, he still keeps the green rock in one hand and considers the idea of going to the gardens. "I think that should be a good start … the gardens that is. But, as we, go, you'll have to tell me," he says, perhaps not realizing the lost metaphor as being what she referred to earlier, "What made you ponder winning a pie, because, I'll have to admit, a pie sounds rather tempting." He remembers to stop himself before he goes on much longer, still curious - either in how she might respond, assuming she wasn't thinking of pies at all, but rather what she might come up with when he asks her about the metaphor she used.

If he was worried, and she probably caught that before he has time to mask his emotions, Demos turns to her voice with a smile that says otherwise. Manners dictate him saying otherwise, "No trouble at all, rather worth the wait I would say." His smile a little more relaxed and forthcoming than before, he still keeps the green rock in one hand and considers the idea of going to the gardens. "I think that should be a good start … the gardens that is. But, as we, go, you'll have to tell me," he says, perhaps not realizing the lost metaphor as being what she referred to earlier, "What made you ponder winning a pie, because, I'll have to admit, a pie sounds rather tempting." He remembers to stop himself before he goes on much longer, still curious - either in how she might respond, assuming she wasn't thinking of pies at all, but rather what she might come up with when he asks her about the metaphor she used.

Zani's smile softens at the worry that she does catch, and then a little more so as she reacts to the smile on Demos' face. She doesn't let go of her keyboard case though, keeping it quite definitely close to hand. She gestures towards the door, and the path over to the gardens, as she looks over at Demos, a thoughtful look on her face. "Winning - oh, wasn't that the way the saying goes?" she asks, sounding a bit startled. Slow and steady wins the - pie?" A pause and then she chuckles softly, "Or am I lost again?" It's not a long way to the gardens, nor particularly difficult to get there. "But if you are tempted, I'm sure there are many cafes that will sell us some pie."

Shaking his head, he turns in the direction of the gardens, Demos moving to open any doors that are in the way. "I think pies should be won, but the phrase I'm most familiar with involves winning a race." As if he doesn't want to dwell on it if she was lost with that metaphor, perhaps enjoying it for what it was, a part of her that he is coming to learn. "Pie, then to the garden, to enjoy the pie. Then we can see how well your keyboard goes along with orchestrating natural sounds of the harmonic universe?" As he walks, he focuses more on looking over at here, "Does it have standard data jacks, I do have a drive with a few radio waves on it, if you'd really like to play with them. I mean I could sing too, but I don't want to scare away the wild life."

Interlude … food purchased, walk to Gardens …


Gardens of Erkwin
While the Arborenin may like their greenery wild and lush, the Gardens of Erkwin are carefully and precisely manicured, even if they are no less green for all the attention they have received at the clippers of gardening drones. Broad expanses of grass are trimmed to exactly the same height, grown to exactly the same verdant shade. Hedges are neatly clipped back into exacting shapes. Some form mythical creatures, others living statues of famous historical figures, and one section even rises in geometric patterns to create a hedge maze. Between the hedges and lining paths of crushed gravel are beds full of flowers from all over Imperius — and before that, from all over Old Earth.

As beautiful as the gardens are, however, all of the paths lead through them toward the stadium on the water's edge. A final parade of flags draws the attention of most onlookers up toward the bulbous blue shape of the stadium's half-roof, which is lit from within by the glow of the lights when a tournament is taking place or a soccer game being played.

07.15.3013

The walk to the garden was pleasant enough, Demos at most learning a good place to purchase pie's here at Landing, some conversation enjoyed by both. It was short talk at best. When the garden is reached and with pie, perhaps more even if sandwhiches could be found, cool drinks even, Demos looks around. He has been here on occasion before, but is unsure of the customs of the locale and thus turns to Zaniyah, "Do we have to find a bench, or could we wander off to find a seat in the short grass?" For the eating of pie that is, he amends to that, "Grass is something of a luxury back home, I'd enjoy it." Sitting on it that is.

Zani certainly enjoys the pleasant conversation, and they do manage to find nice warm, freshly baked pie. Something of a treat. As well as a deli with sandwiches and cool drinks. A picnic of sorts, all set up in a basket, for a reasonable price, and right near the gardens. Almost like it's a common thing. Zani glances around at the area, a half smile on her face. "I don't think anyone will mind if we find a nice spot on the grass. We should have brought a blanket to sit on though." She points along one of the paths that meanders a bit before it inevitably heads towards the stadium. "Let's try that way, I think there's a good spot to settle, and set up the keyboard. We'll have battery power only for a while though."

Grinning and turning to look, Demos nods, "Ah, I do have something like a blanket." He pats a pocket, "Its more like a thermal blanket, something I use in the field so as not to get dirty, but it could serve." Its said as if this is something he is not used to doing, going into the grass and all that. "But, I have heard someone once mention, grass is best felt with the toes," as if that explains his curiousity, "I never thought of doing that on the lawns at the Academ, least someone get the wrong idea. As for the power, battery it is. Once that expires, I'll be content simply to talk with you though, I imagine."

Zani nods her head. "That will work, quite well," she agrees. She leads the way to a somewhat off the main path spot, though still there are folks passing by regularly. She gestures to the grassy spot, and says, "How is this?" That done, she pauses to look around, and then she nods her head. "It looks okay to me, at least. And - if you want to take your shoes off and run barefoot through the grass, like a tree making a sound in the forest, by all means."

"I fear what the locals would think of me," grins Demos about being barefoot, as he pulls the beyond paper thin thermal sheet to lay on the ground, it folds out quite well. Maybe 4' x 4' at best, not quite open as a regular blanket, a little closer than one might expect, buy roomy enough. "Running barefoot, that is, but it sounds tempting truth be told." As food is laid out and all that, "So, I think I'm more curious, will I hear your own music first? I have to admit, I've been interested since you said you were in a band."

Zani settles down on one side of the makeshift blanket, leaving the food basket to Demos. She pulls out her keyboard, which is a fairly top of the line model. It does have jacks to connect to many different types of things, speakers, woofers, enhancers, and even more usual computers, tablets, and music devices. As she turns it on, she laughs. "I can play some of our songs, sure, but it won't be the same without the rest of the band." There's a bit of amusement at that, though also a bit of a blush, at the interest shown. She runs her fingers over the keys gently, just to play a trill of notes, something that always brings a smile to her face. And then she starts to play, one of the HIIK songs that got a lot of airplay, or at least the keyboard part.

Whether in passing, or his own listening, or someone in the lab even, Demos ponders what she plays as he sets out the food. Seconding his thoughts, he says, "I might of heard something like that." He doesn't know the band though, or how big they are, but it has crossed his path before it would seem. Not that he knows lyrics or anything else, just somewhere it strikes just familiar enough to have maybe herad it before at least. He lets it play out more, then he can't help himself, "That's quite good, impressive …" He doesn't want to interrupt much more, but the desire to say she is good overwhelmed him too much to wait for any real breaks to insert the sentiment. As he listens, he takes his own spot on the blanket, food forgotten so that he can listen to her.

Zani just plays the one song, letting it come to an end, and she laughs softly, looking up at Demos with a bit of amusement. "Thank you," she says, with a slight duck of her head. "I love to play, though I have to admit - Don't tell Drake! But I love to play the old fashioned keyboards - the baby grand piano type - as well." She takes a breath, and then says, "So, what songs do you know that maybe I've heard? And can play?" She is pretty relaxed while there is a keyboard in her hands, though she sets the keyboard aside, in order to take her boots off, letting her own feet find the grass, without another word to the man, other than a non-verbal dare.

The dare seems taken, if not outright encouraged as she does the same. As he is taking off his own boots, he ponders a few songs. There are a couple he names off that are perhaps a few generations old, but still catchy enough to be copied or borrowed from. "That might be ones I am aware of, as for contemporary, I think I'm out of the loop as it where." Even as his boots come off, he can't seem to help but look at her toes, curious perhaps, but then his own feet lead off the blanket and when the grass touches, he smiles. Its evident he hasn't done that before. "And I won't tell this Drake, is he in your band or …" He doesn't conclude that, perhaps not wanting to speculate how else she and this Drake might know each other.

Zani's toenails are painted a bright pink. The feet are well kept and she wriggles her toes as she puts them in the grass. "Now we can tiptoe through the rain drops," she declares. And then she chuckles softly. "Yes, Drake is our lead singer - Drake Danger." She moves her attention back to her keyboard, as she pulls it back on her lap. She's studied music at the Academ - she knows a lot of songs that aren't in HIIK's lineup, and so she starts playing one of the ones that Cole Ventralis' group used to play, softly, so that it doesn't interrupt the conversation. Though at the same time, she says, "It's good to not worry what others think sometimes."

As she talks about the leader, tiptoing, and good not to worry, Demos finds himself between those thoughts and the music she starts to play. Classic, but well loved classic at least, and something he is familiar with indeed. "I find that a hard place to be, care free and in the rain." A tinge of the past creeping on him and into his voice, but it quickly wafts away with the wind and the music. "I think this is a priveledge," he says as if out of the blue on a new thought, "I mean, I understand your in a band and lots of people hear your music, but seeing you here like this, simply enjoying playing the music for the joy of music itself. That and seeing your toes. I don't think I've seen pink toes before, or never looked, you know. Another new experience, I need to enjoy the day more I think."

Zani sings a bit as well, her own voice not so bad, for all she's not the lead singer of the group. She blinks and then looks at her toes at the comment, her cheeks going pink as well. "Just the nails," she protests lightly. "Just - well, you might see more, if you look. Though I suppose most people don't show their toes too often in public. Unless they are swimming." She takes a breath, her fingers still on the keyboards, as if she can't really keep them away from it. "And I always play for the joy of music. I don't know any other way to play. But it sounds like you need to anjoy a lot more than one day. You need to - get out and experience life, maybe?"

Leaning over, as if to look more at her toes, peraheps curious a moment if by seeing more she is suggesting there is more painted on her own toenails, Demos then realizes she meant if he actually looked at other feet more often. "Oh, yes, I should," he agrees, hiding a sheepish grin at not having caught onto her original suggestion. "Its just, on a regular day, learning more of terra, finding the new in the every day, or working on a new sculpture. I get lost in it all, I do enjoy what I do." Then offhandedly, "I don't know, maybe its because you got me to think of something else other than the research. Maybe its because you smiled. I wanted to experience a life in that sort of day, see more of that smile." Half a chuckle, coming back to what he was saying, blanching a little that he said so much. "I need to learn to stop looking at the data, and look at where I am. That is why I got out of the lab and came here to continue working I think."

Zani wriggles her toes as Demos looks at them. "There is always a lot to do," she agrees almost solemnly. "It's sometimes a challenge to keep up with it all. Often enough, I'm not out here during the day because I'm sleeping after a long night working." Or partying, but that is a totally different story. She reaches a hand out, to briefly touch Demos' arm, and then her fingers return to her keyboard, adding a trill to the song, and segue-ing into the next. She sticks with the classics for the moment. "I like to smile," she says. "I am generally a happy sort of person, and look on the bright side of things. It makes me a bit of an anomaly in the rock scene, since I'm not all mopey and depressed like many seem to be. But I don't care. I'm going to be me." And then she makes a face. "And the lab - has its moments, definitely. But - it can't beat music for me."

Chuckling a little, he warms a the fingers, more agian at the smile when he looks over at her more directly. Demos forgets her toes a moment, "I can see that, perhaps little could. And that seems to be just … they way it should be. Good thing you like to smile, its rather becoming. I can definitely return to the lap thinking about that." A shrug, he brings one leg up to rest a hand on it, the other remaining in the grass. "I don't think I could take the lab completely. Its the discoveries yes, the exploration, even if just small rock, a new mineral deposit, unknown energy. But, even with drones, I have to do field work, I need to be outside. I think that's why I continue to due work around Detritus. Have you spent much time at the Ring, or the Moons, in your tours?" An idle question, he could be happy if it was never answered, but is curious the same if she's ever been close to the city he would call his home just the same.

"No, not much can take over from music," Zani agrees. "It is just about what I live and breathe. Even if I wasn't in a band, I'd still be playing somewhere. Something." A shrug, and then she says, "So, about this interesting form of music you like to listen to?" she asks. "Let's hear it." Cause she's curious, and it does seem there's a lot getting learned about her, and not so much about Demos. She lets her fingers stop playing for a moment, in time to say, "I've - well, wherever the tours take us, but we don't usually get much time to hang out or learn about a place. It's kind of a blur when it is a tour. I can safely say I've not spent much time at all at the Ring or the Moons if it wasn't a tour."

"Well, perhaps someday, you'll find time," says Demos in response, "I'd talk about Detritus, but then I fear it would sound boring, and I couldn't do it any justice. Any of the Moons for that matter, but nothing compares to home I think." A shrug, his hands go to look for pockets, until he finds what he is looking for. "This first sampling is a song, the initial waves are a pulsar and ocean waves I think, mingled with feedback from images of women with flowers." He hands it over for her to insert into the keyboard if she wants to hear it. Then he finds another little data stick/drive, and holds it up, "This one contains compilations of base sounds, the same sort of thing. It converts to binary, then it should upload as a random sound, if you hear any recurrances that you want to loop back, as the conductor of such music, you're free to play with it as the music reveals itself. That's my understanding of it all.

"Hopefully. I'd like to see everywhere," Zani says, with an exuberant gesture. "You can tell me about Detritus if you want, I'm sure it's a lovely place." She takes the first data stick, and plugs it in, setting her keyboard to play it, and to that first song, she just listens to it, curiously. "Did you put the waves together in this song? Or was it someone else?" she asks, after a moment. Not familiar with artists in this genre. Her head tilts, her eyes half closing, as she listens to the music with some intensity.

Shaking his head, Demos says, "No, I don't think I'm quite that creative, not when it comes to music for certain." A grin, he lets the music play out (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VXa9tXcMhXQ). "I think most of that could be created on traditional instruments, but its captured from other forms that aren't associated with sound. If I had a pulsar syphony, that would probably be better to listen to, really captures the essense of the thought behind it. It is more, did we create the music or did it always exist in the universe, and it took us the time to discover it and unlock it from its depts." Then a pause, he looks down at his own foot in the grass, "To understand Detritus is to appreache the Light. I suppose to an outsider I could start with the warmth, but most people think of it as unbearable heat."

Zani grins at the answer on the song, though her attention is totally on the sound she's listening to, head tilted, eyes half closed. "That's - mostly natural sounds, but sure it could be mimicked on a good synthesizer." Once it comes to an end, she takes the memory stick and hands it back, accepting the second one and attaching it, to download the sounds it's got into the memory banks on the keyboard. She then hands that one back too. "It's kind of fun, as well," she says. Without using the new sounds, she flicks some switches on her keyboard, changing the settings so as to make them more in an electronica fashion, rather than rock. And then she starts to play, just the same song as before, one by Cole Ventralis, but it sounds almost alien with the settings she's selected. Eerie. "Oh," she says, softly. "Unbearable heat - or warmth? I don't know about that. I might melt."

"Yes, mostly, though the case can be made, once a human hand has touched it, is it the same sound that may have existed, or created by man," as if pondering an ancient philosophy on the sound itself. Perhaps somewhere in such thoughts is the attratction Demos has to the music. "Fun, in a sort of, what if way, I suppose. I always reminds me, the truth of discoveries is that we only discoer there is more to discover. There are no true answers in research." Then he listens more to what she is playing, "I like that," as if he could say more, but decides against it, feeling he's let enough geek out for one day. "I suppose coming out of a cooled house, or swimming in the water, it could approach unbearable. But there are perfect times of the day, when the sun rises or sets, when its just the right warmth and the meeting of juxtaposition can be met. I don't know how better to express it than to say, simply it is beautiful." Whether he intends or not, he finds himself looking to her as he concludes that sentiment.

Znai listens to the philosophy, and then she shrugs, her fingers still playing, as she enjoys the different sounds that her artistry can make. "Is the same sound - or not? That's a question that I don't think I can answer that." She pauses, and then says, "And my practical side says it doesn't matter so much, so long as it brings joy. The depths of it, intriguing though they are, they don't impact the music." She grins briefly at the reaction to her new version. "I wonder if Cole Ventralis would like it," she murmurs softly. But again, a shake of her head, her hair tossing slightly, and she continues regardless. "Perhaps I will get to see it, one day, and experience those perfect moments. For me, home has always been Landing."

"I suppose that depends," returns Demos, "If Cole Ventralis considers himself an artist, then like others, he also realize that once he puts his work out there for others to consume, he can no longer control their interpretation and meaning of the original work itself." Then a shrug, "I'm sorry, that is probably boring, preechy or both. Not my intention, I can't help that sometimes." He looks out over the garden and fields then, "I think I could get used to he Landing. I would miss the desert, but when its literally a walk away, it doesn't matter where I call home, does it. I think that's why I have gotten used to the ring, though it is so far from the natural bodies of our system, yet it is a home in itself." Then another shrug, "Okay, philosophical question again, because if my mind wander, I think you'll grow board of my sneaking in hints of your smile, or how much I like your toes. If you had a choice to completely loose your sight or you hearing …" As if he too goes to the old standard, just to turn conversation.

Zani wrinkles her nose, as she considers, and then she nods. "I think you might be right," she says. "Though - even so, like the rest of us, I'm sure he has his own ideas of what that song should be." She grins slightly, before realization strikes and her cheeks go totally pink, as her attention is suddenly eaten by that keyboard. For a moment or two, and then, "Most things are a walk away, through the Ways, and yet, it's amazing how much I have not seen yet." She then lets her fingers finish the song she's playing, and there is silence. "For me, if I had a choice, I would choose sight. I can play music with my eyes closed, but I do not know what I would do, if I could not hear music." She looks up expectantly, giving Demos a look. "And you? Which would you choose?"

"A tough one indeed," says Demos, though he initiated the topic truth be told. The leg he brought up returns so both feet are in the grass again, he puts his hands behind him, fingers splayed outwards. "It would be my site as well. I would dread total darkness, but knowing I could feel the warmth of the Light, that would be enough. Same with my research. Sight helps, but it is no requirement. There are so many ways to receive the information without sight alone. From voice analysis to simply listening to the wavelength of information. It would be sight. Besides, without sight, it is all the more reason to feel things, to discover what they are. "Like toes," he says, heaving a hand over and sitting up to touch hers, just briefly, as if to emphasize what it is he was talking about, but sits back down just as quickly as the gesture was given.

Blink. Zani slowly turns her keyboard off, giving up on music for a bit. She then gives Demos a sort of searching look, though as he reaches to touch her toes, her gaze follows the motion, pausing to look at her feet. Just feet. Everyone has 'em. Mostly. "It would be difficult, you are right," she acknowledges. "To never see a smile, but you can hear it in someone's voice." She takes a breath, and then she says, "We should consider maybe eating lunch?" They did bring a basket of food, right? With fresh pies?

Going for the basket, Demos offers over the sandwhich of her choice to Zaniyah, waiting to take his own, "You're asbolutely right. If I forget to eat, no telling what else I could forget." Then half a smile, "Next thing you know, I'll forget about the torus ring and the orbit of the Moons will collapse, creating a twin sun." The smile grows then fades, mabye that's only funny to him. He retires to food and some drink, finding a pause after a bite and washing it down to offer over, "Thanks Ms. Zaniyah, for the day." That is metaphorical, as in for giving him the remind to enjoy the day, not merely the time spent together on the day, though there are implications of that as well.

Zani picks the nearest sandwich, since that works well enough and she starts to munch as well. She chuckles a bit at the joke about the collapsing orbits, though she doesn't add to it. Dipsy musician, how could she, right? At least that's her story and she's sticking to it. "It has been a good day," she returns, lazily. "Thank you for spending it with me, and introducing me to some new music. I always enjoy that." Eventually lunch gives way to that wondrous wonder - pie.

Again, letting her take her's first, Demos is rather ready for the pie itself. As he readies a fork to set into it, he nods, "Yes, something new, that's always good. You'll have to let me know of an upcoming show, so I can experience you performing like that." Just by way of passing, his fork sinks in, "Just like mom used to make." As if he's heard someone say that before, because as he lifts it to his mouth, he amends, "Not that my mom made pies but …" It goes in and then, slowly, he mmms' with enjoyment of whatever fruity filling it has within the crusty folds of its crust.

Zani settles comfortably, careful to remain decorous, bare feet and all. The pie is absolutely scrumptious, and she enjoys each bite thoroughly. "This is magical," she says softly. And then she looks over, blinking at Demos. "Your mom didn't cook? Or just not pie?" she asks, curiously. "My mom did, but not often. Though that's mostly cause of the strange hours she worked at the bar she was running." And once the pie is gone, she moves to put her boots back on, as the day slowly winds to an end.

Shaking his head, Demos responds, "Not often to not at all, I don't recall anything she ever made, I think our kitchen stove was never used." Then a grin, he finishes his pie, moves for his boots too. "I think I was just inclined to say that. Magical was a better description I think, more accurate." He'll pack up what is left over, to be put away or carried back as is necessary. "Yes, definitely a good day, my good fortune to have run into you Ms. Zaniyah. I'll find your next concert, so long as it doesn't make me seem like a stalker to show up like that."

Zani packs up her keyboard, and she smiles. "Always good to have fans at our concerts. I'm sure you'd be welcome." Along with thousands of other screaming maniacs. "It was good to run into you too. I probably would have just slept today away, and imagine the nice time I'd have missed." She gets to her feet, off the blanket, so it can be packed up. "Maybe we can enjoy another day sometime."

With a nod, Demos returns, "I'd like that, I'd like to see you again. Perhaps I'll have time to come off less like a dork given for thought of such a day." A chuckle. Then he'll offer his number to her, so as not to come off like a total fan or stalker. "And now, back to the exciting world of geology." Indicating he should get back to work. He offers a bow of his head, even though she's a citizen, as if mocking the gesture, or playing with it at least.

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