1995-03-03: Dorf On Orff

Participants:

Amber_icon.gif Keegan_icon.gif Kyrie_icon.gif Siobhan_icon.gif

Scene Title Dorf On Orff
Synopsis Is this playtime or classtime!?
Location Hogwarts - Music Classroom
Date March 03, 1995
Watch For Triangle
Logger Professor Cranky-pants

Being in charge of one of the lesser popular electives has its high points. Meaning that there's more time between classes for the teacher in charge to relax, and practice a bit of his own tastes in music. Which is what Professor Keegan is doing as he waits for the next round of students to waft in.. wait.. next round? Ha ha! This is his first class of the day, and he's kicking back with an acoustic guitar, playing something unfamiliar to wizarding ears. But to those introduced to some muggle classics, he's strumming 'Happiness is a Warm Gun'.

"…like a lizard on a windowpane…" Siobhan matches words to melody with a tight grin as she moves stiffly into class, collapsing into a chair near the front and offering their professor a half-arsed salute in greeting. "In a mood for the old stuff today, are you?" She's teasing, but it's not as easy as it usually is. It's work to be herself these days, and how weird is that?

The student voted most often to be found with at least three musical instruments in her possession slopes on into the classroom, same as always. Kyrie arches a brow at the teacher's choice of music, but it's obvious she recognizes the piece as she settles her own guitar case, drum, and recorders' case on the floor or the shelf of her music stand du jour. The guitar case is large and when she opens it, a theorbo is what's revealed, a lovely medieval-style bass guitar. Basically a bit honkin' lute with a very long neck. "Professor," she greets politely and musters a slight smile for Siobhan, her brow furrowing with worry at the other girl's odd gait.

Shouldering through a small crowd of her own Housemates heading back to their Common Room, Amber heads through the door with a few minutes to spare before class begins. Ah, the sweet sound of guitar and Slytherin wafts through the air! Not a fan of that House, but there are a few individuals who've earned her respect. Anyone with a penchant for performance rates high on her list, no matter who they are. In any case, she's here for vocal. After taking the class on a whim third year, she found she actually had a decent voice, which her parents say runs in the family. It's still in training, of course. Not many kids her age are professionals. She doesn't actually say anything, though she does offer a cheerful wave to the classroom in general.

Keegan grumps as Siobhan enters the room. "Nobody likes a showoff, Noble." Yet, he's still strumming along without missing a note, even making the classic guitar playing face. He squeezes in a nod to Kyrie as she enters. "You kids and your new fangled music these days, garbage. All of it," he snarks, abruptly ending what he's playing and eyes the class as they settle in. Hmm.. so few students. Which is fine, he's not terribly good with large quantities of children. "So Miss Noble likes to show off her muggle music knowledge.. So perhaps today we'll play a little game. The winner can touch my Les Paul." No really, what better prize could there be? "So you lot, get comfortable, move in close." His class really isn't a soft option, it's just music should be fun.

"Tell that to Crazy-Train Lestrange. I think she'd disagree." Siobhan is in a bit of a snarky mood herself today. Might be something to do with that look of irriation that crosses her face at having to move again. "An' Muggle music's more interestin'." She pushes herself to her feet and moves closer as ordered. "Bigger selection." The promise of touching the Les Paul doesn't really seem to phase her - not a guitar person, Sio - but she's willing enough to play along.

"Make it David Gilmour's black strat, and then I'd be interested in touching it, if Phil Taylor doesn't have me arrested first for daring," Kyrie remarks laconically as she gets to her feet again and meanders closer to the others, sparing a glance Sio-wards once more, as if trying to figure out what's wrong… this time.

Eyebrows arch at the mention of Lestrange. It's a name that's been coming up now and again lately, and after discovering that a good friend was hanging out with a man in a rat suit, Amber's become a whole lot more interested in Death Eaters. She wants to know who they are, what they've done, and how to kick their asses.

"Me da likes the Beatles," she says quietly, taking a seat neat the professor. "Plays lotsa music like that when 'e's settin' up n' stuff. Me mum likes more classical…" Seeing all this attention on Siobhan, Amber has to glance back, too. Looks like a Slytherin student to her! Oi, what's wrong with that leg, though? Probably got it bitten by one of the life gargoyles that fly around the Slytherin common room. Or stepped in the acid fountain that's also in there. Or tripped into the tangle of thorns that grows right out of the carpet!

…Yeah. Hufflepuff has… rumours.

"I don't think I asked about their opinion," Keegan says in his gravelly tones and gives a flick of his wand. A trumpet in the back plays that wah wah waaaaah, sad tone before falling silent. "Don't discount the music of your own culture. It's got its share of classics. Look at Beethoven's works for example. Excellent cross-over artist, Beethoven." That's a classic musician, and don't snort. Kindly explain how a deaf man conducted and performed so beautifully! "Phoenix, don't make me start taking points away for being a smartass." Although, he's secretly pleased. "I'm sure if my parents were a witch and wizard, they would have told me to turn down that loud youth, Mozart. Cheeky bastard he was." He plucks out a peppy tune briefly on his guitar and nods to Amber, "Fantastic together and just as excellent on their own individually. Although Lennon shouldn't have taken up with Yoko." Don't get him started. "So. A bit of a game. I'll ask some questions, maybe play a tune and sing some lyrics and you can guess what the song is. Unless you lot would rather take a look at the sheet music I can torture you with learning."

Offering a small smile to Kyrie, Siobhan mouths a silent 'I'm fine'. Last thing she needs is word getting back from niece to uncle that she's only now starting to pull out of things. Really, he worries far too much already. "I'm game," she offers aloud, trying to find a more comfortable position before settling into the pace of the class.

Kyrie smirks at the 'sad trumpet' sound, but nods to Siobhan to indicate she acknowledges the words, but chooses not to make a further inquiry. For now. "I liked his Moonlight Sonata," Kyrie remarks of Beethoven, and then adds, "I'd rather have points taken off for being a smartass than a dumbass, sir." Her tone is standard respect-for-a-teacher as she gets ready to listen. "Can I have the sheet music anyway?" she asks curiously and shamefully eagerly.

Hm, thinks the Hufflepuff to herself as she notes the interaction between Kyrie and Siobhan. How peculiar! And yet, it's better if she doesn't pry, because Slytherins eat people, or so she's heard. She doesn't believe half of that stuff, but when so much information comes pouring in, you have to imagine that some of it's true. ANYWAY. Giving a thumbs-up to Professor Keegan, she smiles. Let's do this!"

"Phoenix… go get the blasted sheet music. There's a stack on the edge of my piano." Yes, she can get it herself, because he's also left without a snappy comeback. He also doesn't feel like getting up or using his wand to send a copy to the student. He instead plucks at the guitar strings, a peppy little number. Catchy to be sure, and sings out a selected few lines of the lyrics, "Theres a giant doing cartwheels, a statue wearin high heels. Look at all the happy creatures dancing on the lawn. A dinosaur victrola listning to Buck Owens." He then stops, and lays a hand across the strings, giving the students an expectant look for the song title and perhaps artist.

Humming along with the melody a bar or so beyond what Keegan sings, Siobhan smiles a little to herself. "Lookin' Out My Back Door, in'nit?" Who it's by, she couldn't tell you for all the gold in Gringotts, but that melody isn't one to be easily forgotten. By anyone. Amber's weird looks earn her one in return, but Siobhan shrugs it off as the usual 'OMGWTFBBQ SLYTHERIN' nonsense and looks back to Keegan for a yeah or nay response.

Yeah, she has no idea what that is. Maybe she should pay more attention to her dad's music than the new pop songs that just came out on the radio. That is, if she could listen to the radio at school… She's going to have so much catching up to do when the gets home for the summer! But back to her failknowledge. She has no idea.

Kyrie scrambles over to collect the sheet music with the indecent haste of the school's biggest music nerd and when she comes back, she's humming more bars of the song, going "Doo doo doo, lookin' out my back door. CCR, Professor," she answers almost lazily, her attention mostly on the new sheet music and seemingly utterly delighted with its complexity. "This is gonna be awesome." Not the game, but the music.

Keegan rolls his eyes at both Kyrie and Siobhan, then, "Matthews! Are you paying attention! This will be on the final!" Only it won't be. "Who recorded the theme for Puddlemere United to raise money for St. Mungo's? Go!" While they stew over that one, he's ponder another song to hopefully stump them on. CCR was a bit of a softball question to warm them up with.

"Not a clue," Siobhan freely admits. "How long ago was that?" Kyrie's MAD DASH for music reminds her of another mad and nerdy person - though that one's quite a bit stringier than Kyrie - and she can't repress a little bit of a smile. It's an odd bit of comfort to find, but she'll take it all the same.

"Aaah!" By the look on her face, Amber has no clue. Crap! She should know the answer to this! "Sorry, Sir, I don't know!"

"I have no idea, Professor, but I'm sure the team had to pay and beg the band to write it, because no one would do it for free. Puddlemere United stinks." Kyrie, so polite about Quidditch. She's still mostly scanning the new music, reaching for a quill and already starting to make notes on the parchment. "This note's wrong, sir." It's an absent-minded remark less than a mean-spirited one.

"Tick-tock, Tick-tock," Keegan says sharply at the students, but that's just his way. Adding a bit of unnecessary pressure. "Miss two more questions, and I'm ejecting you from class, Miss Noble." There's a pause, then he adds, "And into Filch's caring hands. I'm sure he needs some assistance cleaning bogeys off desks this period. Same goes for you too, Matthews!" He groans, "I'm so disappointed in you lot. The answer is Celestina Warbeck, and the song is 'Beat Back Those Bludgers, Boys, and Chuck That Quaffle Here.'" He makes a face then grabs his cane and reaches across and pokes at the sheet music in Kyrie's hands. "Focus on that later. We're playing a game here, spoilsport!"

Shuddering with perhaps more vigor than is strictly necessary, Siobhan pulls a face. "Well no wonder no one knew, Professor. That Warbeck's worse t'listen to than Barbra Streisand!" Apparently, for those non-Muggle exposed students, this is a Fate Worse Than Death. Threats of detention fly right over her head - after Snape, no one else seems quite as fearsome anymore - but she does eye that cane warily. A thwap with that thing would not feel good against still aching muscles.

"Mother thinks Warbeck needs to work on her sustain," Kyrie remarks knowledgeably, pouting but putting the sheet music away, tucking the quill behind one pointed ear like a demented Robin Hood feather in her cap. "Now, if someone like Ella Fitzgerald had done it, that song would /rock/."

How was she supposed to know that?! Giving the professor an odd, tilted-head look that might be described as cartoonish, she leans back, crossing her arms. "Yeh, what she said," Amber states, agreeing with the Slytherin because, hey, they're all in this together, and if she doesn't, she'll find hair removal potion poured in her shoe. Why her shoe? Does anyone know how Slytherins operate!? "Any'ow, s'not like ya can 'ear a team's song o'er the crowd, pr'fessor. They prolly gave 'er the deal so it'd never be 'eard."

"Shush, you," Keegan barks a little at Siobhan. "There will be no mocking of the singing sorceress, that charming witch of song. She's an artist to be revered!" It's… he could be joking.. but he seems so serious about Miss Warbeck. Even so that he mouths Kyrie's words in a mocking fashion back at her. So juvenile, this one. "Fine, fine, you kids suck with /our/ musicians." Fingers back along the guitar strings, he strums a slow paced tune, it sounds a bit romantic in tune, and then he sings, "It's all wrong, but it's all right. The way that you treat me baby. Once I was strong but I lost the fight. You won't find a better loser." Again, he quiets the strings and looks to the students to see if they pick up the chorus and title.

Siobhan rolls her eyes and sighs, shaking her head and even groaning. "Bell Bottom Blues. My mum loves that song." And plays it over and over and over and over and…yes, well. "An' the guy that wrote it…Crap? Clap?" Yes, apparently the artist either sucks or has VD. Lovely.

"Your mum is weird," Kyrie opines to Siobhan, nodding to indicate that's the answer to the question posed by the professor. "When are we getting to /good/ music, sir?" she asks a bit plaintively. "Even an 80s hair band would be better… or Nirvana. And I hate Nirvana." She glances over at Amber briefly.

Amber has to giggle when Keegan makes fun of Kyrie. The girl's a bit of a know-it-all, to be sure, but, hey, it takes all kinds, huh? It takes Amber a moment to think of this one, because it's still not quite poppy enough for her, and she finds herself thinking that maybe she should borrow some of her parents' music so she can keep up with the professor when he plays his games. But when he sings that little bit, she recalls it, and says, "Oh, oh!" under her breath excitedly. Tip of her tongue! "B— " she starts. But Siobhan's already got it. BUT! She knows the guy who sang it! Small victory, but she's goin' for it! "Eric Clapton!" she finishes, and looks back at Kyrie. "There aren't nothin' wrong with Nirvana."

Kyrie's given a look that's on the scathing side. "You're demoted to playing the triangle for your slander of Slow-hand.. and your answers are correct, Miss Matthews, Miss Noble." Another nasty look that may not be entirely faked is shot at Kyrie. "I had some more trivia planned, but because Miss Phoenix here had to go and be insulting.. Instruments out, then open the elementary music book to page 1." Helpfully, a triangle floats over to Kyrie, waiting to be held. The music book? It's a bit like elementary Orff Class really. A bit insulting to boot, to go back to something /so basic/.

Kyrie is shot a look of pure disbelief. "What's wrong with Nirvana?" she demands, as if Alistaire's niece had just cast aspersion on the Holy Grail, or Buddha. Or Brian. Wait a minute… Elementary Music? Too right about that insult. Tapping her wrist against her thigh, Siobhan flicks her tiny willow wand and casts a quiet Accio, waiting until the appropriate book is held in her free hand before looking back to Keegan. Almost as if to doublecheck; Is this for real?

Oh, instruments!? She learned a little piano, but you can't fit those in a bag. So she pulls out one of those old plastic recorders - the ones you get when you're in, like, third grade and they're attempting to teach you music, while the boys are taping up all the holes and using said instruments to launch spit balls at an alarming distance at the chalkboard at the front of the room. Funny, but not particularly edcational. Book is opened. "Like I said. Aren't nothin' wrong with Nirvana." It's a sort of gee, thanks, Kyrie tone without actually saying the words.

Now that everyone's good and horrified, Keegan sets his guitar aside on its stand. "Ladies! Focus! Nirvana is so passe in conversation." However, instead of forcing the students to start with scales for beginners.. He looks at each girl in turn, incredulously, "You took me seriously? Gosh you lot are naive." He turns to the stand of sheet music at his side, and holds up some notes. "Spring Recital. There will be uniforms, you will look snappy and play fantastically. Got it? I may even open up auditions for those that have decided to hide from my classes."

"Same drill as usual, then?" Siobhan pipes up, sending her book back to her bag un-opened. "Which pieces are we coverin'?"

Well, you're supposed to do what the teacher says! Amber pulls yet another face, something skeptical, and yet not entirely rude, and rolls her eyes as she flips the book closed. Hopefully, there'll be a singing part, unless she can learn how to play something halfway decent before the spring. Which is this month. CRAP. Well, maybe if she can learn the piano… "Any singin' in it?"

"Maybe, if you act up in my class and give me cheek. I'll make you sing. Solo." Keegan says and he's usually as good as his word. When he's not jerking the chains of the students. "Oh I dunno yet what we'll be covering. I just pulled this from my arse this afternoon. It sounded like a good idea and I thought I'd just keep you lot on your toes. I know there are more students who are musically inclined than you three." And he will find them, oh yes. "Anyway, ten points to each of you, now get out of my classroom." He waves his hand in a shooing motion at the students.

Kyrie seems quite happy to take the triangle and to go over the sheet music, but she gives an atomic pout when the Orff is yanked away and such. "Oh, can I?!?" she asks breathlessly when Keegan threatens to make a student cheeking him sing solo. "Seriously!" Comments about the awesomeness of Nirvana are ignored, as is Sio's wounded look. "That'd be great!"

SIobhan knows where she's not wanted. In no mood to stay and play games with the badger that is Keegan, she pushes to her feet and braces one hand against the desk to hopefully hide the space of time when her hip gives out on her. This 'weak as a kitten' stuff is getting really, really old. Fast. Once she has most of her legs under her again, however, she is gone. No questions, please. Nothing to see here. Later, folks!

So essentially, he's never as good as his word, except when he wants to be? "I'd so do a solo. Make a right fool o' myself it would, but nothin' wrong with laughin' at yerself once in a while, aye?" she asks, making sure everything - including her music folder - is back in her bag before she stands. "N' gettin' other people ter laugh atcha. I mean, when ya mean 'em to. Kinda sucks when yer trip o'er sommat n'— Well, tha's neither 'ere or now. G'bye, pr'fessor!"


Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License