02.06.3014: Swing on the Spiral
Summary: Lyrienne visits Sarah, and Sarah shares something with the Inner Worlder
Date: 18 November 2013
Related: Sarah's log
Sarah Lyrienne 

A Cell, a Watch House in Landing
Well established by now.
February 6, 3014

The measure that Sarah uses to judge the quality of her days as of late has been a very short spectrum. The difference between a good day and a bad day is minute, and lately it seems like anything can transition her along that narrow margin. Today is a good day. She has been left mostly alone, probably in reply to her conflict with the guard a couple days earlier — and the resulting bruises still darken her skin around her eyes and the synthskin holds together where a deep cut had split her cheek. She has taken apart her single-wide bed, spreading the mattress out in the center of the room with the frame turned 90-degrees to stand on its head. She stares at the ceiling thoughtfully, her luminous eyes bright but unmoving.

"You need more pillows and blankets to build a proper fort." Lyrienne's introduction is short, but accompanied by a swift smile that crinkles the corners of her eyes. Today, she has a guitar case slung over one shoulder, and rather than the ever-present chair, she moves toward the cell itself to take a look at the bed. Her smile falters somewhat when she sees the bruises, lips pursing. "It looks like you had a bit of a disagreement with someone."

"You should see the guard," Sarah states in her flat, almost dry tone in reply to the woman's observation. She glances toward her then from her spot on the floor, staring across the breadth for a long heartbeat. It is only then that she rolls herself up into a sitting position on the mattress. She draws up her knees a bit, draping her forearms across the bends where flesh and cybernetics meet. She takes note of the instrument first and foremost before her gaze settles more steadily on the Inner Worlder.

"You sound like my sister," Lyrienne replies, amused, as she carefully starts to settle down on the floor in front of the cell. It's a bit more awkward than it might be usually, with the growing swell of her stomach, but after a few false starts she manages to settle in cross-legged as well. "I brought my guitar," she explains, setting the case down carefully and starting to unzip it. "I've been working on some new pieces lately. Some just lullabies," she admits with a shrug, brushing a thumb over the strings and making a minute adjustment in tuning. "I'm planning to put out an album of lullabies. But a few other things I've had in my head as well. Do you have music on Cantos?"

Sarah watches her with those steady, unreadable blue eyes. She tilts her head aside slightly as the Inner Worlder begins the attention required to tune the instrument. She looks… curious. The Cantosan turns a bit on her rump so she can face the obviously pregnant woman. She straightens up at the question, and she regards it in silent thoughtfulness. Then she offers a small nod of her head. "Yes, we do…"

Lyrienne glances up with another swift smile at that. "That's good," she says warmly. Oddly enough, she seems to mean it. Whatever else this whole war is about, the idea that the people on the other side have music as well is heartening. "Well, if you don't object, I'd be happy to play a bit for you," she offers. "You don't have to listen, though, if you don't want. Gods know, I've plenty of places I can play through these things."

"I was given a sampling of some of your music," Sarah says, though the voice doesn't sound dismissive. "Classical music." She shrugs a shoulder up lightly. "Music of Cantos is not dissimilar, but…" Her eyes drop to the guitar. "We do not have instruments." Or at least, not like that. She lapses into another length of silence before she offers a slight nod of her chin. "I will listen."

Lyrienne quirks a brow at the concept of no instruments, but doesn't question it just yet. Instead, she makes a few more tuning adjustments, head tilting slightly. If Sarah can tell such things, she gets the instrument perfectly into tune, and not with any sort of device, either. Apparently, it's a natural talent. She plays through a few chords, testing the tune, as she watches the other woman. "Any preferences? Something upbeat, something slow?"

Those questions stump Sarah for a moment, and she tilts her head a bit aside. "Something with purpose," is all she replies as she sets her arms across her knees once more. "It must have a purpose." She ducks her chin a bit, eyes going unfocused as if she is diverting some of her attention to her ears. She waits to hear what Lyrienne has to play.

"Mmmm. All songs have a purpose," Lyrienne says with a small smile, strumming the strings. "The question is, will I find one that you recognize as purpose?" The random chords slowly morph to something a little more decisive, though the song is gentle, slow. "This one," she explains quietly, "I wrote for my husband. But I also wrote it for the soldiers who were going off to war, and the people they would be leaving behind. This is a song of hope, and faith, and the belief that love can hold strong through anything." Her fingers play over a gentle three quarters rhthym, her voice soft, yet full. "Heart beats fast, colors and promises. How to be brave? How can I love when I'm afraid to fall? But watching you stand alone all of my doubts suddenly fall away somehow…one step closer." A pause, a breath, as though the music holds it. "I have have died every waiting for you. Darling don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more." There are more verses. The chorus repeats. But through it all, runs a thread of emotion that the singer plays masterfully.

Dutifully, Sarah listens to the song being played for her. She is quiet throughout the presentation, letting the music move around her from the Inner Worlder. Her expression should not be the measure for whether or not she is enjoying the music for it remains stoic. It is only once the song comes to a close does she tilt her head slightly aside. She is thoughtful, but eventually nods her head. "Simple, but… you are limited by the instrument you use." She pauses again before carefully adding. "It is well composed."

"There is meant to be a piano as well, yes," Lyrienne agrees, smile crooked. "And a few others. But I figured they'd probably draw the line at bringing a whole band in with me. Thank you, though." She sets her hand over the strings, stilling them, before she looks up again. "It's a simple song, though. If I had to guess, I would imagine you might prefer something a little more…melodically complex?"

The Cantosan falls into her usual, thoughtful silence in the wake of the question. "Music should be…" She worries over the words a bit, almost chewing on her tongue as she seeks for them. "Music should be a medium. Its complexity is based on what you are trying to communicate through that medium." She glances slightly away, looking beyond Lyrienne's shoulder. "I appreciate being introduced to your music… I did not bring many pieces from Cantos with me. They needed to be supplimented."

Lyrienne considers in turn, then finally nods slightly. "That's true," she agrees. "I usually favor the less complex pieces, personally. But then, I'm a popular artist. I try to appeal to the masses. At the same time, though, I think there's a good deal to be said for economy in composition. Sometimes - most times - you don't need seven notes when two can accomplish just as much. And a well placed pause or breath can be far more effective than three verses of lyrics." Gently, she sets the guitar aside, folding her hands over her stomach. "What do you supplement your music with?"

"Music is not meant to appeal to the masses… it is meant to be shared, but approval is not required for it serves the individual, not the whole," Sarah says in reply, though she bows her head slightly and adds something that has been unheard by her until now, "That is how we see it." An acceptance of differences, perhaps. Then she tilts her head a bit at her question. "That's not what I meant… I meant that… I have listened too many times to the pieces I brought with me…" She taps her temple, perhaps suggesting that she has… stored… music in her head. "I appreciate being given other music to listen to."

Lyrienne's brows rise, and though she's surprised, it seems pleasantly so. "You brought your own music. Some sort of implant that stores the recording for later listening, or a trick of memory?" She pauses, then waves a hand. "No, never mind, that's moot anyhow. If you'd like to hear more, I'm happy to play more," she offers. "And I can send over some recordings, of course."

Sarah is quiet for a long moment, as if considering her words carefully. "It is provided by our cranial cybernetics… it is how we exchange such things." She considers Lyrienne for a long moment, those luminous blue eyes unblinking. When she offers to play another piece, the Cantosan offers something else instead. "I could share a piece of Cantosan music with you." There is a pause. "If you would like."

Lyrienne pauses at that, then folds her hands in her lap - or as much of a lap as she has at the moment, at least. "I would love that," she admits, smile deepening to dimples in her cheeks. "Do you need anything?"

"It will require authorization from the Doctor," Sarah says, though there is a hint of confidence there. "But she will allow it." The Cantosan glances toward the guards, nodding her head to them. "Ask them to comm her, and request that you be given permission to use the stripped communicator. She will know what you are talking about." Then the Cantosan drifts into silence once more, allowing Lyrienne to do so. It will take about fifteen minutes so that Figueroa can look over the last few minutes of footage, weight the pros and cons, and then grant permission for the use. From a secured locker, Lyrienne is given a simple communicator device that operates on a closed frequency. Sarah waits for her to return, still seated on the mattress in the middle of the room.

Lyrienne plays through a few experimental chords while she waits, patient, then stands up carefully once the guards bring in the communicator. She holds it for a few moments, turning it over in her hands, then turns to the other woman with a small smile. "You'll have to tell me how this works," she admits.

When Lyrienne speaks, the Hostile lifts her chin slightly toward her. She nods gently before she slowly rolls to her feet, standing to her full height. Her palms are displayed, arms slightly spread at her hips. "I will not harm you, nor the one you carry, Lyrielle Orelle… but the faraday cage that separates us will prevent me from connecting with the communicator…" There is a short pause. "You will need to enter."

Lyrienne tilts her head for only a moment, then nods slightly. "All right, then," she agrees, stepping forward. "I'm trusting you, Sarah." She glances to the guard with a small smile, tipping her head toward the entry. "If you wouldn't mind letting me in?" she asks politely.

The guards hesitate for a moment, and then one nods her head before authorizing her partner to produce a door within the field. Sarah steps back, keeping her palms open. She maintains her gaze on that of Lyrienne's, not even looking toward the guards as she enters.

Lyrienne is steady as she steps forward, nodding to the guard before turning her attention back to Sarah. There are no threats, but she doesn't tremble either. She steps forward, then holds out her empty hand, offering a small smile. "A pleasure to meet you a little more properly, Sarah," she murmurs.

Sarah inclines her head gently at the murmur before she drops her hands to her side. She drops her gaze to the communicator before she looks back up toward the Inner Worlder. "You only need to turn it on… I have the frequency." She waits until Lyrienne turns on the communicator, maintaining a safe distance from the woman as if ensuring that she does not threaten the pregnant noblewoman.

Lyrienne's brows rise once more, curious, but she looks down to turn the communicator on. She keeps a finger on the button, mostly in deference to the guards, but looks up to Sarah once it's ready, waiting and watching.

Sarah inclines her head gently before she closes her eyes. There is a soft sound of feedback before music begins to emerge from the device. Instruments are easy to recognize including a dozens of string instruments, sharp percussion, and a deep chime. The pattern is specific, but there is something incredibly organic. The Cantosan is silent while the music pours out of her head and through the communicator.

Lyrienne starts briefly at the static, though the surprise fades away to a different sort of wonder as she listens to the music that follows. There are slight motions while she listens, a sway with the beat, a tap of a finger or a toe as she gets the feeling of it. She recognizes the progression of notes, a slow smile curving as it settles into her mind. A few minutes in, though, something changes, and, eyes half-lidded, she starts to hum, softly adding in a more melodic strain that weaves between the ordered notes like a sparrow flying through a gridded field. In that moment, there's pure joy in her features. This, it seems, is truly what fulfills her.

"It is phi," Sarah explains, her eyes opening slightly to gaze at the Havenite. "It is mathematically accurate in every way, speaking of the natural spiral of the universe. It was created to speak of this harmony." She loops the music, allowing it to fill the room. She maintains her gaze on her for a few moments longer before she severs the connection, but only after the music has faded out. She takes another step back.

Lyrienne lets her voice fade as Sarah speaks, looking up with a swift, warm smile. "It's beautiful," she says quietly, tilting her head to listen until the music fades out. "A progression. I heard it. It's very…technically precise." She doesn't seem to consider this a bad thing, though she's still mulling it over. "Thank you, Sarah. That was very interesting."

Sarah inclines her head, though her expression remains slightly distant. Then she lifts her gaze toward her. "You're welcome," she offers in return. "I will accept whatever recordings you wish to give. We will consider it a… fair exchange."

Lyrienne's smile slips crooked. "Sarah," she laughs softly, "I have a contract with a recording studio. I have access to any number of recordings. I'll talk to the doctor about the limits of the hardware to store them, but I can get you a very large selection." She reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, smile easy. "I'm glad we could talk about this, Sarah."

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