[Class] Introductory Music with Professor Blue - SEE P.8

[Ice Queen]

Roch blinked. Slowly he got up and headed for the stand where he grabbed a piece of paper. He patted his various pockets, then pulled a pen out from one of them as he headed back to his desk. What did music mean to him?

Quote:

Music is how I made my living since I was five. I guess you could say it's literally a part of me, you know, since my reaper scythe's a guitar. I think it kept me from getting killed a ton of times, too. The guys back home liked to hear me play so they didn't kill me. I like to listen to it. I like to play it. I get antsy when I don't have a guitar for longer than a couple of hours.

Music is blues, and rock and punk and even classical. It comes in a lot of different styles, rhythms, tones, all sorts of stuff. Music is something that should be shared. It can cheer people up, no matter how bad their day’s been, too. It can make an angry crowd of murderous bastards happy to hand over silver, if you do it right.

Music is memories. I still remember that day when I was a kid sitting next to my teacher whenever I play “Close to You.” Sights, smells, sounds, all of them come back when I hear certain songs. And it can make you friends, too. When you both play, you got something in common.

He took a few moments to count the words, making sure they were enough that he could get away with it, then glanced at Bul, who had taken his to the music stand, so he did the same.  

[Roxy_roxanna2]

Sin lowered her head and pulled out her pink pen starting to write remembering her time with the trumpet. Of course she also recalled lessons with her parents, long lazy days lounging with her EYEpod on, and listening to her Raven’s cello music. Music meant so much to her and yet so little at the same time, simple tunes or soul moving ballads.

Quote:

Music, in my opinion, cannot be distilled into one simple meaning, it has so many different components. What is music? Is it simply sound versus silence or must it be composed and performed? If a little ghoul hums a wordless tune for pleasure is that music? To me any rhythm, any harmonic noise or sound can be music. Of course my favorite music is wordless a melody that creates an auditory experience akin to viewing a masterpeice of art. Indeed music is but another artform to be appreciated with another sense. If I could lounge before a suptous culinary feast viewing a brilliant performance while listening to a classic masterpeice I would be drowned in art. Music is more then that though it can express so many universal emotions that I cherish it’s ability to connect us. The most beautifully haunting melody can connect anyone if even for the smallest moment. Granted music also has an irritating component to it, what one might like another might despise and be irritated by. Certain instruments are plain irritating no matter what song their attempting to emulate, and others sound beautiful no matter the tune.

I have come to appreciate some forms of music and I know now that I’m very narrow minded in that appreciation. I hope I can come to find equal joy in other parts that make up the whole of the musical world. The trumpet for example has yet to earn a place in the heart of my muse, but perhaps someday I won’t find it as irksome as I currently do. Perhaps that is what music really is a key into the mind, hearts, and spirits of every living and undead thing. After all they say that music can soothe the most savage of beasts, but I do wonder after having met some fearsome creatures if that is wholly true.

She finished and set her pen down glancing over her paper and licking her lips with a nod. Yes well it was a bit vague, but it would have to do music was as hard to explain as love or friendship.  

[Grey Dragon]

Jove gave the professor an odd look... He had seen that expression before, on the faces of ghouls who were just itching to give him a hug, or pet his ears, or ruffle his hair. It was an expression that made the pup wary, but he took the kazoo with enthusiasm.

What sort of noise would it make? He trotted over towards AIslin, who had waved at him on his way in, but veered to the other side of the room to sit near Bul instead when he noticed the reaper who Aislin was teasing. He felt safer over there, and as he flopped into a chair he examined his new instrument. Unfortunately the pup had no idea it's main function was to amuse children and drive adults to rip their hair out in frustration.

His ears perked when the professor addressed the class, and his tail wagged slightly as he got to work.

Quote:

Music is a whole lot of interesting sounds. It's not like the sounds you hear outside, in the forest with the wind rustling branches and little animals running around, or in places with people and their cars and electricity noises. It's ordered, changing it's tone like a bird, but in predictable intervals that follow a pattern. At first it was also just sounds to me when I heard it at my caretaker's home, and then on campus. It could be nice, but it didn't mean anything.

When I met Ren, he taught me that music could be more than sounds. It can make you feel gentled inside. It can soothe all your rough edges, and take all the thoughts that are running through your head and turn them into pictures that calm you and keep you focused. It can make you feel better when you are scared or sad, like it draws out all the emotion and leaves you at peace with it instead of having to fight it inside you.

Since then I have listened to more music, and I realized it can make you feel all sorts of things. When it's quick with a tune that is upbeat, I've felt happier. And when the music is sweet and sincere, I've felt longing, or sadness, like I am just waiting for something uplifting to happen even though I know there is no reason for me to feel that way. It can pull at your heart. Even when you have no heart like me, music can still pull at it like it's there.

I think that's what music means to me. It's another way to feel things.

Finishing his assignment, he trotted it up to the front of the room and dropped it on the stand with the others. Then he gave the professor a wary glance, before heading back to his seat.  

[Sosiqui]

What music was...? Malodore looked down at its paper with an internal frown.

Malodore

Music is a series of audible tones put together in sequence. The overall effect can be either pleasing or dissonant.

The plague doctor paused. That definition, while technically correct, was highly deficient in the word count department.

Malodore

Music is a near-universal language; while different races may have different tastes in music, the concept is understood by almost all beings. It can be used to express and induce a variety of emotions, even when not paired with words to enhance meaning.

That was better! Encouraged, Malodore kept writing:

Malodore

Many a jarring chord has been struck in the name of FEAR. I prefer more classical works, brilliant harmonies and dissonances to delight scarelings and terrify humans. Music can be a very useful tool.

... How many words was that? The plague doctor counted quickly, then swore under its breath. So much for concise explanation.

Malodore

To me, music is a tool - which is not to understate or demean its importance. Music can humble and exalt, terrify and edify. Proper understanding of the power of music is extremely valuable. Music can be formed from nearly anything, not merely the sounds of 'instruments'. The cries of passing bats can be rendered into a selection of music by the skilled composer.

Getting there...

Malodore

Those who can use music effectively, especially when combined with FEAR, can harness and harvest a great deal of power. I have the utmost respect for FEAR-composers who can accomplish such feats. Even silence, properly infused and pitched, can be a hellish masterpiece.

... Hah! That was 204 words! Satisfied - and relieved - Malodore put down its pen.  

[Manda]

Write was music was to him? Aksaja stared rather blankly at the professor, blinking for a few moments. What the Jack was the point of that? Still, it was a class, and he had to do the work if he didn't want to get kicked out. Right? Sure, okay, whatever. With a heavy sort of sigh, the lightning dragon edged toward the carnivorous music stand and snatched a piece of paper before it could wake up and take another bite out of him.

Then he picked a random desk and sat down to start writing.

Aksaja

Music is a lot of people or things making a lot of noise. Sometimes it can sound good, and sometimes bad. It can uhm make you feel happy, or sad, or angry or maybe just weird. I don't know what else to write about, this is stupid. I don't know a lot about music except what I heard other people make back home. A lot of that was more roaring that singing, but whatever. I guess it was music.

I think music should be loud and exciting, and the things it's played on should be just as exciting. Not like some stupid little piece of wood like you gave me. I guess maybe small things make music too. Sometimes. But I think the small things wouldn't get heard very well over the louder stuff, so maybe it's a bad idea to have small things that make music.

Aksaja frowned at what he'd written, eyeing all the scribbled out parts, and started counting words. . . . Ugh. Even if he did count the crossed-out words, it wasn't nearly enough yet. He had to think of more to write, somehow. Tail tip lashing back and forth on the floor, he put his pen back on the paper.

Aksaja

I think I would like to learn more about music so that's why I'm taking this class. I wish I had another instrument but I guess I'll learn how to play this one, maybe. It could be interesting to figure out what kind of sound it makes though I don't think it will be a good sound. Maybe music is better when a lot of people make it together, I don't know. If we're going to play something together in this class I guess I'll find out.

Aksaja carefully counted his words again and then nodded to himself and put the pen down. Even if it wasn't exactly 200 words, he was pretty sure it was close now. That should work, right?  

[Sayuri_Nitta]

Arachne looked up as Professor Blue spoke, and clenched her hands tighter on the saxophone. Groups? Did this mean they would be performing? That would be interesting. At his next words a frown passed over her face; this would require some thought, she wasn't sure she could put it into words.

With the saxophone on her desk, she pulled a piece of paper towards her, and after a light nibble on the end of her pencil started to write.

Arachne

Music is..memory. My mother is quite the pianist, and so any strains of piano music bring back memories from my childhood, both good and bad. For her it was an expression of her moods, and so when I hear a light toned piece of music it reminds me of when my mother was vibrant, and I can feel light in my heart.

If I hear something sombre, it will stir the memories I do not want to recall; the time my family was broken, and my mother became a shell in my eyes.

Music brings back both good and bad for me. I would like to only hear only uplifting and positive tunes but I understand that is not possible, as music becomes an expression of the soul for all who have an appreciation of it. What I would like is to be able to appreciate the work put into a composition, or song lyrics, in that they can stir such feelings, and invoke memories. I suppose that is less about my feelings towards music, and more about my own 'demons'.

Anyway.

Although I myself do not play music as well, nor as willingly as maybe I should, I wish to have at least a passing ability, so that if I feel the need I can express myself in sound and form.

She pushed the paper away, and put the pencil down. She feared she might have rambled, or gone off tangent, but music for her was more about the listening than the participation. She had at first only come to Music class as she had missed so many lessons, and then she was given the saxophone which had impressed her even less, but she had persisted, and whilst not accomplished, felt that maybe there was a slim musical talent inside her.  

[Huni Pi]

The tikbalang gave his full attention to their teacher but seemed hesitant when asked to write. Tro knew he wasn't the most... articulate of students. Or at all. This was going to be hard for him, penning his thoughts into some pseudo-cohesive whole for their professor to read. But he will give it all he has.

Petro

Music is awesome. It lets me hear things that most people ain't ever gonna get the guts to ever admit out loud. Music is something that comes from inside me. Ain't gotta be catchy. Ain't gotta be fancy. Could be short and simple and sweet or way complicated that I gotta stop and catch my breath after trying to keep up with it. Music is letting the passion, the fire, the things that makes me tick just take over me and make the sounds that uh... that... that word that starts with res. Res-something, resi-something, no, wait, uh... reso-something. Whatever! Make the sounds that reso-something with my very soul.

Ain't much of a talker, really. Ain't all that good with words. Dunno how good I am with instruments or singing either, but it ain't matter to me. It ain't ought to matter when I just let myself go, and let the melody and rhythm flow. Pretty or ear-hurting, it lets me figure out what I'm really feeling and lets me bring it out to the world. Or at least outside of my head and heart and whatever else part of me that wants to make music. Because Music is awesome.

Petro did not look happy with his finished paper. It was short and somewhat repetitive. It pretty much showed his stream of consciousness. Hopefully, Blue won't take it too much against him.  

[DragonSpeaker]

Ys reverently took the tambourine with a nod and a thank-you before taking the nearest seat. So they would be working in groups? She scanned the room, wondering how they would be divided up as she noted the few familiar faces with relief. Well, first things first, she needed to write this little essay. Fetching a piece of paper and a writing implement, she stared blankly at the seemingly innocuous page. What is music to me? If she hadn’t been hampered by the helm, she would have chewed on the end of her pen. Instead, she drummed her fingers on the tambourine a few times before realizing how annoying that probably was to the other students. With that, she hunkered down over her desk and set to work. Fortunately for the professor, her hissing speech was limited to the spoken word alone.

Ys wrote

Music is a celebration. It is when we come together to listen and dance because we have won. Sometimes it is because we have lost something or someone. It tells the story of the joy or sadness. Music is in the voice, but it is also in the instruments. The music is also around us in the world, in the sea. I think there is music in the talking of fish, in the sound of waves, in storms at sea, in crunching bones. It doesn’t have to be one song to be music, but many songs at once. When they come together in a perfect mess of noise, it is music to me.

It is also how you know which dance to dance and what mood to feel. Music is a way to know someone else without asking their secrets because the sound and feeling tells you about the one who wrote it or sings it or plays it. To me, the music is a secret too, and you don’t know the answer in your head, you feel it in your bones. You don’t need to know the words to understand the music, and so it is to me another language that you speak with feelings instead of thoughts and words.

Halting, certainly not eloquent, but she hoped that she was able to convey the meaning well enough that her lack of writing skill wouldn’t hamper the reader too badly. It was hard to put into words on paper what she saw and felt, but this was good practice. She had found herself thinking quite seriously on the topic, determined to show that she meant business here at the school. Setting the pencil down, she fidgeted instead with the tambourine by scooting one of the little metal jingly bits around and around with one finger, causing a faint metallic scritching noise that was somehow quite soothing. To her.  

[Reeshie Hack]

Rosc hated to write. It gave him headaches and more often than not he found it wasn't really worth the effort he had to expend to do so.
But this... This was something that wouldn't take long to put to paper. And it wasn't something that he felt was work.

He sat there for a moment, though, wondering just what he should put. He was an honest individual of sorts, finding that the truth was so much more of an attack against others than lies could be, sometimes. But he also preferred omission, keeping personal things to himself. It had kept him standing all these years, had been a lesson drilled into him by his mentor. Wear your heart on your sleeve and you make it that much easier for someone to stab it.

However, there was no denying his passion for music. Everyone at the club knew it. There had been more than one social gathering where he had performed, either with Rosanna or one of the members' daughters. They'd never picked up, though, because as soon as he began to get bored, he'd start to improvise and that wasn't as appealing to the others as it was to him.

Vision narrowing to take in the blank face of the paper, he picked up his plain black pen and began to quickly write, staving off the dull feeling between where his eyes should have been.

Rosciel

Music is a haven. It is calming immersion that, when done right, can surround the individual and separate them from everything else in the world, if only for a brief moment.
It is an emotion waiting to happen, depending on the piece. Music can invoke pain and pleasure, longing and contentment, relaxation or anger. In this it is also an amplifier. Should I play or listen to an angry piece when I am in such a mood and it's like feeding wood onto a fire.

Music is my entertainment when I cannot have anything else. I don't need to be able to properly see like other people to move my fingers across piano keys, on taunt strings, over holes on a pipe. Music is my expression, a sound pleasing to my ears. That is what makes music flexible and indeterminate. What I call music, some might call noise, and often vice versa. Before I was forced into learning one instrument, then choosing my own, I had nothing but trouble to entertain myself. Now I can lose hours comparing pieces together, learning a new piece by sound, practicing and refining an old.

His head had begun to throb dully by the time he was finished, but he was satisfied with the result.
A glance over the classroom found Sin had finished her own response, Arachne, too, with another brass instrument. He was disappointed that he didn't see the little ghoul who had gotten the cello, his lips tightened into a frown when he saw Christof without it. What had he done, dropped it out of a window? Lost it? Or perhaps Blue had simply taken it away after last class.  

[Ravvlet]

Cady watched as one by one her fellow students grabbed sheets of paper and began scribbling responses to the instructors inquiry. She tentatively stepped forward, violin and bow clutched in one fist, and grabbed her own sheet and pen. Afterward, she sat for a long while, staring at it blankly.

Writing. This...this could go very badly. She set to work determinedly though, agonizing over each letter.  

[Ravvlet]

Quote:

Moosik is.

Cady stared at her paper. Her pen hand trembled a little with concentration, causing stray scribbles to form in the margins of the page.

Quote:

musik. an you cn lisen to it an it sownds gud. an sumtims hittn stuff maeks musik but sumtims its jus nosey.

She glanced up to peek at someone else's sheet- and had to pick up her jaw off the floor. They'd written so many WORDS. She forged on, becoming more annoyed and impatient by the minute.

Quote:

an lik sumtims u blo into stuff n it maeks musik but not aaways
cas lik bottls maek nois but its jsut nois n not miusc

an takling can be musik to but liek i trid and gladis gat mad at me

so i tok tis clas cuz i liek to maek nosey but i wnat to to maek pritty nose insted of lod noses

cus liek pritti noses maek me tink of rilly gud fod an my favrit tiem wen i wen runn in wods an fod is gud n somtims it maeksmy tummy fel warm n fuzy to her it

but liek somtims pepul wiggl rond to et liek dey haf ant in pant r somefing lik i dun no is weir an is cal dancins i fink an it loks sily bu fun so we shud do dat

tis mos wurds i ever writ

so we sud danc in stf an i hop i do ok wit sining an musikin an i m her to lern stf

ps is my fing a geetard cus i nevar sen on dis smal befor

pss is der a riting clas pls

There. She shuffled to the front and sat her paper on top of the stack.

And promptly ate the pen.  

[sleepZombie]

Writing down her thoughts and feelings on music... that. That was really boring. She'd come to the class with the desire to learn to play something, not to write endless essays about it. With a sigh the banshee dawdled... occupying her attention with watching others bent to the task, inspecting her instrument, seeing if she could throw tiny wads of paper at the sleeping music stand.

But eventually... well. It had to be done. With a great, suffering sigh the banshee focused, picked up her pen, and began to write.

Quote

Music is rhythm.

It is a beat that I can dance to, a sound that I can't help but move along with. It is amazing to see how it makes others want to move with it as well. The bass and drums keeping beat while the other instruments make the tune and the singer sings along. Music is telling the world how you feel right now.

It is also something that I think was important to me. Hearing music makes me feel like I can almost remember something. I feel excited, and I always want to dance no matter what kind of music it is. I prefer fast things that are happy and loud to sad music. It's really hard to dance to slow music.

I want to be able to make my own music to dance to, to sing to. It'd be fun to make music with others, probably, like we're all dancing together. Except with instruments. If we play good enough we'll be able to make music that other people will feel like dancing to.

So I guess that to me music is something that will connect us all together.

She set down her pen and gave a long, suffering sigh. She'd really been grasping at it near the end there, but that pretty much summed up what she felt about music.  

[Toshihiko Two]

The reluctant owner of said tuba was busy contemplating the assignment with horror. After he'd dragged the tuba all the way here, there was more writing? Busywork? Philosophy? He couldn't.

He had never regretted taking a class more.

Music had a meaning to him, of course, he just couldn't be buggered to write it down. It was a good tool of sarcasm, a method of gaining school supplies and the occasional sympathies of other creatures determined to harm him. It had roped him his first in-school contract, although that had meant rehearsals, beatings, memorization, sogginess, and improvisation on his end. It was good for mood-setting, although he wasn't sure if the loud, blaring music at dances had anything to do with the sorts of moods he was interested in. Ah. And dancing. Which he could do, of course, but depending on the partner could devolve into a lot of very fancy walking. He was not fond of walking. The instances in-school he found music connected to lying back and doing nothing were pitiably few. The background music for video games almost qualified (but even then they were doing their best to spur you on to action, weren't they?)

In the end, he wrote in what he hoped was his most peevish and dreadful handwriting,

Quote:

work

and left it at that.  

[stella cinere]

Joachim looked at the pan flute before giving a nod of thanks, secretly in his own little delight he was happy to see that he got something he at least had knowledge in playing. Pulling it his chest he started head towards a seat that had the least amount of students sitting around however before he could reach it the professor made an announcement about writing a short essay on what music was to them. Pausing he turned around on the heel of his boot and quickly picked up a sheet knowing that whatever he was to write was going probably going to take him forever. Scuttling to the emptiest corner of the room he sat down and pulled out what looked like a feather quill pen from his pocket and stared at the sheet of paper.

Joachim Wrote

Music is the essences of my life and of my family's life. I mean this literally not in a fugitive manner like that of lyrics or poetry. It is a Pied Pipers job to reap the souls of the dead by the use of the music and if we are not talented in music then we are a failure to our family and cannot provide for them.

Joachim stared at the rather large cursive script font that he had written realizing that it was rather too big and took up a majority of the page. Great he was going to need another sheet, as he got up and made his way back to the music stand his heels clicking across the hard wood floor. This time he picked up more than one sheet before heading back to his seat to continue to write.

Joachim Wrote

Other than not wanting to be an utter complete failure to my family and being shunned for talentless behavior I devote my time to music. Fortunately for me, and I write fortunately in the upmost care due to such incidents that have befallen me, I was blessed with the talent of being able to play wind instruments much like my father's before me. However I must assume that by this writing I should at least convey my thoughts of what music means to me beyond family matters.

Music in fugitive language in my very own words is the expression of emotion. It is a story written among notes that with the skills and imagination of the player can come to life in a blossoming manner that cannot be revealed with pitiful words of the language we speak. Music is the very soul reason that I exist today.

Joachim looked at the five sheets it had taken for him to write his paper as a disgruntled frown appeared on his face. Considering it was full of words that were meaningless and written so largely and eloquently that not even he was sure what it was about he was sure he was going to fail it.