"I wasn't complaining because I especially wanted to play one. I was complaining because my memory has holes in important places." He considers a moment, then makes a swipe to steal said glasses.
It's safe to say he's gotten more comfortable with this alternative Horvath.
With a notebook in one hand and the cane in the other, his attempt to retrieve the glasses is only half-hearted and awkward. He's done using them for the moment, anyway. "You think mine doesn't? All those wonderful bits of swordplay, just slipping away, bit by bit- and I don't have much chance to get that back, at least in any fashion that's of use to me."
He peers through the lenses with interest. Looks like their prescriptions are pretty close.
"I'm sorry, Maximus," he says after a moment, with genuine feeling but without relinquishing the glasses. "I'm sure that's just as annoying. I'm just sulking over the irony that we're both getting old without getting old. I'm not sure I like it."
He puts on the glasses and frowns. They're more or less the same shape as his, too.
Horvath tucks the notebook away in his coat pocket, frowning mildly in thought. "Oh, don't worry, I'm sure the other half will catch up with us, provided we survive Morgana's defeat..." He's never been much of an optimist.
Balthazar blinks at him from behind the glasses, finding this distinctly not-comforting. "Well...why don't I try to brush up on my swordsmanship and you learn to play the rebec? Then we'll have the same skills between us, and each have only had to learn once."
Comforting is also not one of his specialties. This may be one of the reasons he's fallen into so much trouble with apprentices. He quirks one eyebrow, accepts the glasses back, and folds them up to tuck away as well. "I'm not certain I have the ear for music that you do... and these make you look like some sort of professor." A very ragged, absent-minded kind of professor, but he's kind enough not to say so.
"Does that mean you won't start a band with me?" He makes a mock-pout, then adds, "And I am some sort of professor. I have degrees somewhere. Probably outdated now."
Maybe a little. The last degree he got was in the early 1800s.
Have a brief double-take, sir, and a mild, cautious reply. "I like music, and it was an easy instrument to get in the days I needed such things. Admittedly, I never liked the tone much..."
"You should attempt the violin. 'Tis a bit easier to manage, at least. Tell me, what sort of music do you favor?"
Finvarra isn't malicious in the least--for the moment--and merely smiles at Balthazar indulgently, resting his chin on his hands. He looks like nothing so much as a teenager, all slight smiles and shadows. "Ye needn't be so cautious with your words."
"I prefer plucking strings to using a bow, normally," Balthazar seems to be politely sizing up the stranger. It's rare for anyone to call him 'lad'. Not that he minds. "I still play the lyra and the psaltery. There's little music I dislike, but the older forms and simple songs suit me best."
He leans back, hands in his pockets, and smiles wryly. "Words are so easy to lose track of, though. And a stray one can be such trouble to get reined back in."
"I've been considering that." Balthazar's experience with the fair folk has been limited, and usually stressful. Still, he's seen enough to recognize the type of power. He's just never encountered it on this level before.
"Your pardon," he nods politely. "I didn't mean to stare. I'm used to being the oldest person in the room."
Balthazar raises an eyebrow, noting the implications, but too polite to press them. "Likewise. There are some specialty craftsmen that make them, though, or so I've heard."
There's a moment's consideration, then he adds dryly, "Probably they mostly sell at Renaissance festivals."
"I don't get round to those very often," he admitted. "At all, actually. I do like the sound of the rebec, but I'm much more proficient at the violin."
"The violin? I never got around to learning that one. I'm considering the guitar, but right now I mostly just play the psaltery, the lyra, and a couple types of flute."
Unfortunately, any word that is a variation on 'Morgana' is one that produces a subtle flinch in Balthazar. But he's not about to hold it against a stranger. He offers a handshake, his fingers covered with rings. "Balthazar Blake. I've mostly tended toward instruments that I can carry with me. I've done a fair bit of travel."
He shakes Balthazar's hand eagerly, though he notices the slight flinch. "I've spent most of my life as a sailor. I learned to play violin first. Nowadays with the synthesizer, you can carry a piano with you as easily as a guitar."
"Ahh. I've worked as a fisherman before, but that's not quite the same. When crossing the ocean, I'm mostly a passenger." His gaze goes distant a moment, lost in nostalgia, but he continues to respond amiably.
"I've never touched a synthesizer. There's something about the wood and strings that feel right. I suppose I could learn to like the electronic stuff."
"I've always been a sailor, never a fisherman," Morgan nodded. "I like wood and strings myself. Somehow the music is much more alive. Even the electric guitar relies on them for its sound. I've not bothered with the electronic stuff much myself."
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
It's safe to say he's gotten more comfortable with this alternative Horvath.
no subject
no subject
"I'm sorry, Maximus," he says after a moment, with genuine feeling but without relinquishing the glasses. "I'm sure that's just as annoying. I'm just sulking over the irony that we're both getting old without getting old. I'm not sure I like it."
He puts on the glasses and frowns. They're more or less the same shape as his, too.
no subject
no subject
He takes the glasses off and offers them back.
no subject
no subject
Maybe a little. The last degree he got was in the early 1800s.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
no subject
no subject
Finvarra isn't malicious in the least--for the moment--and merely smiles at Balthazar indulgently, resting his chin on his hands. He looks like nothing so much as a teenager, all slight smiles and shadows. "Ye needn't be so cautious with your words."
no subject
He leans back, hands in his pockets, and smiles wryly. "Words are so easy to lose track of, though. And a stray one can be such trouble to get reined back in."
no subject
He's obviously magic--a fae by any other name--and merely lets the sorcerer look his fill. "I can stand if that would make your observation easier."
no subject
"Your pardon," he nods politely. "I didn't mean to stare. I'm used to being the oldest person in the room."
no subject
ohai! :D
There's a moment's consideration, then he adds dryly, "Probably they mostly sell at Renaissance festivals."
:D Hey
no subject
"The violin? I never got around to learning that one. I'm considering the guitar, but right now I mostly just play the psaltery, the lyra, and a couple types of flute."
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
"I've never touched a synthesizer. There's something about the wood and strings that feel right. I suppose I could learn to like the electronic stuff."
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)