On the beach a bonfire is burning, there's still light in the sky so its not at its fullest yet. Beside it cords of wood and driftwood are ready to be tossed on so it can go higher
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"He has given his word, and you have taken it?" Teja says.
Long pause.
"That is your good right, as it was your man he slew. Then I shall not kill him the next time I see him."
Another pause.
"I was not playing anything special, merely improvising on the melody from a movie that I saw while I was sick with the floo-sickness. Movies are theatre from the future; men have them on little disks and can play them as often as they want: - always the same sights and sounds, preserved by technology."
"It's... a little more complicated than that," she says after a pause. "Not that I trust Ramon any further'n I can throw 'im, but I made it clear enough to him last time we spoke that any further action would have... unsatisfyin' results."
In other words, he was threatened.
"He's really got no other choice but to back off, ego or no. Though," she laughs, "I can't say that your offer isn't temptin'. But you wouldn't be above punishment if y'did anything to him. So, please. I'd rather know you was safe and above reproach."
She nods after his explanation of the music.
"I've heard of 'moovies'. Ain't seen one myself, 'side from what plays on that little 'tely-vision' set above Miss Bar. S'a sweet tune."
"The tee-vee," Teja says. "Yes, that is where I saw such things first, also. But when I was sick and required to stay in my room, I had bar give me a small machine for playing them. This music comes from a tale about the sinking of a great, mighty ship."
Pause.
"I would not be above punishment, but if Ramon was let go after mere weeks, so I would be, also. And it would be worth it, to have this place free of Ramon. If you ever change your mind, say so, and I shall still undertake to slay him."
She nods, though she immediately hates herself for the craving she has to see Ramon dead. She told Fiona that her business with the man was concluded, and seeing as her thirst for revenge and pride is what brought her to this point in the first place, she'd be better off keeping her word.
"Thank you. But, for t'night, let's concentrate you and me on the memory of a good friend," she says with a wan smile. "If you'd like, I could sing a little as you play?"
"Oh, that would be good," Teja says. "We must find a song that we both know -- one from Ireland, maybe? Those songs are traditional in your time, and I have been listening to them, and learning to play them."
"...And will you never return to see Your bruised and beaten sons Oh I would, I would if welcome I were For they loathe me every one
And will you never cut the cloth Or drink the light to be And can you never swear a year To anyone but we?
No I will never cut the cloth Or drink the light to be But I’ll swear a year to one who lies Asleep alongside of me
Farewell, farewell to you who would hear You lonely travelers all The cold north wind will blow again The winding road does call."
She smiles softly when she's finished, bashfully combing an errant strand of hair behind one ear, removing a daisy from her hair in the process and absently playing with it.
He's slightly wobbly as he lights them off but there are more than enough for everyone to have one.
As he sets a few off he's singing, not fully clear what he's singing but join him in music and explosions.
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"That's lovely," she says.
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"Greetings, Katherine Barlow," he says. "I am glad my music pleases you; it is your cruel loss why we are here now, and why I play."
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"I thank you for your kindness. Doc would've been pleased."
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"I reckon you're right. But as for Ramon, I can only be grateful that he's committed himself t'not layin' a hand on anyone else."
Thinking about anything else would be far too dangerous.
"May I ask what it is you're playin'?"
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Long pause.
"That is your good right, as it was your man he slew. Then I shall not kill him the next time I see him."
Another pause.
"I was not playing anything special, merely improvising on the melody from a movie that I saw while I was sick with the floo-sickness. Movies are theatre from the future; men have them on little disks and can play them as often as they want: - always the same sights and sounds, preserved by technology."
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In other words, he was threatened.
"He's really got no other choice but to back off, ego or no. Though," she laughs, "I can't say that your offer isn't temptin'. But you wouldn't be above punishment if y'did anything to him. So, please. I'd rather know you was safe and above reproach."
She nods after his explanation of the music.
"I've heard of 'moovies'. Ain't seen one myself, 'side from what plays on that little 'tely-vision' set above Miss Bar. S'a sweet tune."
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Pause.
"I would not be above punishment, but if Ramon was let go after mere weeks, so I would be, also. And it would be worth it, to have this place free of Ramon. If you ever change your mind, say so, and I shall still undertake to slay him."
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She nods, though she immediately hates herself for the craving she has to see Ramon dead. She told Fiona that her business with the man was concluded, and seeing as her thirst for revenge and pride is what brought her to this point in the first place, she'd be better off keeping her word.
"Thank you. But, for t'night, let's concentrate you and me on the memory of a good friend," she says with a wan smile. "If you'd like, I could sing a little as you play?"
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She thinks for a moment, until suddenly her features soften with a sobering memory.
"All right, let's see if y'can follow this one?"
"Farewell, farewell to you who’d hear
You lonely travelers all
The cold north wind will blow again
The winding road does call..."
The tune isn't terribly complicated, but she does pause nonetheless to see if Teja can follow it before she continues on.
There are a lot of memories associated with this song.
It feels right to sing it.
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Your bruised and beaten sons
Oh I would, I would if welcome I were
For they loathe me every one
And will you never cut the cloth
Or drink the light to be
And can you never swear a year
To anyone but we?
No I will never cut the cloth
Or drink the light to be
But I’ll swear a year to one who lies
Asleep alongside of me
Farewell, farewell to you who would hear
You lonely travelers all
The cold north wind will blow again
The winding road does call."
She smiles softly when she's finished, bashfully combing an errant strand of hair behind one ear, removing a daisy from her hair in the process and absently playing with it.
"So, you have many skills, it would seem."
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