By the hands of the Gods, you have been plucked from your time and from your world, dropped into the box.
Only the box is a world of its own.
We are a mass crossover based on the concept of Pandora's Box. Characters from nearly any fandom can be played here. Because of the endless character possibilities, we are canon only here at Pandora. Take a peek at our rules and plot information before starting your new life in Pandora.
Want to add a quote? Submit them here!

Private evanescence and no chill

Only those invited by the thread starter may join this roleplay.

Ben Solo

Star Wars
Swole but not Whole
Posts
286
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Hoth Topic
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ok boomer
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Disaster
Pronouns
he/him/bitch
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goffic disney prince
Height
real tol
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crying to mcr
Relationship Status
virgin power

June 5th
@Scaramouche
With no Stormtroopers to command, generals to argue with and Masters to please, Kylo had been experiencing an unprecedent kind of freedom that allowed him to truly do whatever he wanted. With that, naturally, came the issue of being uncertain of what that was, aside from further learning about the Force under Anakin. But his legendary Grandfather, no matter how agreeable, had other responsibilities to attend to, so Kylo had to find more ways to develop himself in this forced break the powers of Pandora had enforced on him. Sensing that he would never be the engineer Anakin was and knowing that acquiring a ship to travel would take some time, he turned his attention into developing some.. unorthodox abilities.

Be it his not so hidden obsession for a certain very special girl, be it the whole goth culture he had been hearing about, Kylo was developing a growing interest in song making. An utterly bizarre interest for any acolyte of the dark side, he nevertheless found certain aspects of music cultures of Pandora aligned with his own style and besides, this was not the first time he had wanted to pursue a more creative path. In fact he had been quite artistic in the far past, before his life took the dramatic turn that it had.

So he eventually decided to do some try outs and devote some of his time on this goal, even going as far as contacting someone who gave music lessons. The implication that he was a droid made this exchange far easier for Kylo and the numerous other droids of Anakin's that had been working on Brattur's channels and had been involuntary keeping company to the gloomy Master of the Knights of Ren.

The mansion at the end of Brattur's street seemed exactly the sort that gothic novels described, equipped with the aesthetic and feel of the mysterious and the dark. But the droid unit that greeted guests at the door had stubbornly assumed a more cheerful persona in contrast, as it waited for the improbable; someone actually visiting the current inhabitant of the house.

Pandora was the place of miracles.
 
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Scaramouche

Samurai Jack
The Assassin with the Sassin'
Posts
147
Location
anywhere the wind blows
Species
Android
Height
8'
Occupation
"Problem" Solver
Alignment
Chaotic Neutral
It was hard being a robot on Pandora.

It was even harder being a robot assassin (who knew?).

Ergo, when Scaramouche heard down the grapevine that someone -- he didn't know who -- was looking for music lessons, the flamboyant toaster spontaneously went, "Yeah, sure, why not? I'm rustin' away on my metal duff anyway." After all, money don't grow on trees. But it should.

And so there he was... staring down the imposing façade of a tall, dark, and ominous Victorian-esque manor from a safe distance away, Scaramouche left out in the freezing cold to shiver like a delicate leaf in the breeze. Ha ha, right! Brattur. Safe. Good one!! "Mmmm'kay..." he remarked hesitantly, idly tapping his boxy chin. "Welp~! Somebody's compensatin' for somethin'! Seems to be a lot of that goin' on around here..." Guilty conscience, perhaps? Fear? Whatever the case, it largely didn't concern the android. He was just here hoofing it out in the desolate boonies for what would hopefully be a fruitful encounter.

Sigh...

Anyway, the manor! The spooky manor. He clicked his ruby heels thrice, eager to get out of the elements, and made quick work of crossing the yard. Imagine his surprise when a fellow robot greeted him after a round of eager knocks.

Knock!
Knock!
Knock!​
Creeeeeeeak...!!

"...Oh! Well, what a pleasant surprise~!" Scaramouche remarked, all smiles. He then studied his nuts n' bolts brethren thoughtfully, a pensive frown upon his face. "...Whatever they're payin' ya, it clearly ain't enough," he said. If anything, went the unspoken addition. Ah! But where were his manners? The android bowed at the waist and tipped his paddy hat. "Anywho~! I'm here to, uh, see the master of the house, if he's in? We've an appointment, he and I~!" Ew, the lowly 'M' word... Hopefully, with a bit of luck, Scaramouche wouldn't have to utter it more than once. Hopefully.

He was banking on that word a lot today.

Scaramouche suddenly shivered, teeth chattering. "Br-rrr-rrrr, it's cold...! May I come inside~?" the android asked. "I feel like I'm gonna turn into a popsicle!!" Unless someone was gonna lick him clean, right down to his oily center, it was perhaps more prudent to let him in. Just a thought!
 
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Ben Solo

Star Wars
Swole but not Whole
Posts
286
Location
Hoth Topic
Age
ok boomer
Gender
Disaster
Pronouns
he/him/bitch
Species
goffic disney prince
Height
real tol
Occupation
crying to mcr
Relationship Status
virgin power
Ιt was not the most sophisticated droid unit and it had been called a moving trash can by certain uncultured Bratturians, but that did not stop the dark colored droid from producing happy beeps. Which, if Scaramouche could understand, translated to an all around positive welcome. 'Oh, how lovely of you to come! Of course, come in, come in.' it appeared to communicate, encouragingly, as it begun rolling inside and expecting the guest to follow.

Rolling down the dimly light corridor, the droid, that was no taller than a baby, proudly led the guest in what operated as a living room. Not that there was any reason for its existence, which became apparent by the lack of decorations present or pictures on the walls. There was a sofa and a fire place, windows that were never opened all the way and tables, but it did not seem that anyone spent time in that room. The droids kept it clean though.

'Stay here!' the unit beeped some more, rolling around the sofa in obvious excitement. When Anakin was not around, there was not much joy to be found in the house, so the little thing could not help but be thrilled merely at someone's presence. Instead of rolling away, it stayed in the room, moving back and forth.

Then, as if it remembered something, it suddenly exited the room, only to return a couple of minutes later balancing a round plate of chocolate cookies on its rectangular top. Store bought, naturally.

It approached the honored guest with undying eagerness, at the same time another droid appeared in the open door, surveyed the room and then left without a beep or any other sound. Some seconds later, the only human being residing in the building walked through the door.

As cold and emotionless his expression was, the intensity of his stare told a different story. His movements were stiff, betraying a militaristic background to those who could recognise such things. He was dressed in black from neck to toes, his hands were covered in leather gloves and only his face and hair were left exposed. A deep scar begun from his forehead and continued all the way to his neck, disappearing under his scarf.

'Ah, yes. The musician.' were the first words he spoke, his voice deep and serious. His eyes fell on the droid for a few moments, eyeing it intensely before he made his way near the fireplace, in front of his guest. He did not seem interested in sitting down, for the time being. 'Comfortable?' he asked, dark eyes settling on the android. There was a strange kind of appreciation in them as they regarded him. He truly looked more sophisticated than many of his kind and Kylo was familiar with enough to form an educated opinion. He could guess Grandfather would be fascinated if he were here.
 
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Scaramouche

Samurai Jack
The Assassin with the Sassin'
Posts
147
Location
anywhere the wind blows
Species
Android
Height
8'
Occupation
"Problem" Solver
Alignment
Chaotic Neutral
Yes!

Yes!!

Another 'bot who spoke machine code! Oh praise his lucky stars, there were patricians out there. Scaramouche damn near dropped to his knees and openly wept. (The android fortunately knew better, seeing how pride was still very much a thing). Thanks a lot, pal! You're a lifesaver, he returned in kind, all manners of cheery 'beeps' and 'boops' emanating from the overjoyed tin can. The name's Scaramouche, by the way! But you can call me 'Mouche. What's your designation? ...Oh! Right, he was being ushered directly into the belly of the beast, going in completely blind. Almost got carried away in all his excitement! Time to dust the mantle of glistening frost off his shoulders and inspect the manor proper.

...Which, to be perfectly frank, was just as dark and dreary inside as it was out. Scaramouche really couldn't complain, however. With a few adjustments to his ocular sensors and one or two winks -- three for good measure -- the place was well-lit enough to avoid bumping into various furniture.

A dim corridor led to an equally dim... ah, living room (or dead room, given the gloomy ambiance), and the robot couldn't help but notice a peculiar lack of pictures on the walls.

No decorations? Not even a horrifically taxidermied beast...?

"Huh...! Must be a rental," he surmised. Would explain the exceptional cleanliness. More robotic helpers, perhaps? Only a robot would be so anal as to --

'Stay here!'


The android cut his thought short to snap a peppy salute. "Aye, aye, Cap'n~!" he playfully cheered, watching the excitable lil' guy roll off. And, uh... back again, apparently! And again, and again, and -- deep breath -- you get the picture. Cyan optics darted after the droid back and forth like a ping pong ball. "...I-I'll, uh, j-j-just stay right here, next to the warm, invitin' fire~! Yep, mhm~!" Which was damn nice of his host, not gonna lie. Know what was even nicer, though?

Cookies!!

And a whole plate of 'em, too.

"O-Oh, are these f-for me...?" he squeaked. Must be, 'cause there was nobody else the pint-sized droid thought to approach.

Does he take one?
Does he politely refuse?
Does the lil' beeper know he's offering organic sustenance to another robot...?

Gadzooks!! What was the proper protocol!?

...You know what? Scaramouche was just gonna, like, beeeeeend over -- all 8' feet of him -- and take a cookie to make the droid happy. T-Thanks~! And then he was gonna hold it awkwardly to his chest while standing grossly out of his element, because that's totally what an organic would do.

Well... at least he had enough self-awareness to wave at the other droid looming silently over there like a creeper.

Thump...
Thump...
Thump...
Uh-oh.

H-Hey, uh...~! D... D'ya, like, hear that boss music p-playi -- ?

'Ah, yes. The musician.'


And in walked the most handsome goth Scaramouche had ever seen.

The Most Handsome Goth He's Ever Seen, After 10,000 Years in MS Paint

Tall...
Dark...
Ominous...

Oh yeah, it was all coming together, like Grandma's tasty homemade chicken potpie. The peas, the carrots, and the me-he-heat, baby! Wooooow... That's your master? Scaramouche took a dainty bite of his cookie, enraptured by the pasty goodness wrapped in several layers of dark, brooding leather storming his way, and felt like he'd done died and gone off to robot heaven. Unf! Just look at that stiff-legged march. Mm-hm-hm...~! You are ooooone lucky 'bot, babu. I can practically smell the angst from here!! he remarked, barely -- just barely -- keeping his dorky smile under lock and key.

Right! First things first: the reason for today's meme-ridden shitshow meeting.

"Yep, I am indeed the musician," Scaramouche answered, tipping his paddy hat respectfully, "and I am very comfortable, thank you...~."

Don't purr, don't purr, don't purr.

And don't comment about being appraised like a very expensive piece of tech.
(Which was true, but still).

"So, uh...!" Scaramouche coughed into his hand and cleared his vocalizer. Don't worry, Tiny Tim 'Bot -- he was going to eat this cookie and make you proud. "Before we get into the nitty-gritty of it, babe, may I ask what level of musical aptitude you possess currently? A-And, er, what ya ultimately hope to achieve through learnin' an instrument?"

...That sounded fairly 'music tutor-ly', right?



((OOC Note: I forgot to state earlier, but thanks for making the thread!! I hope you enjoy the fresh meme.))
 
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Ben Solo

Star Wars
Swole but not Whole
Posts
286
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Hoth Topic
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ok boomer
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he/him/bitch
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goffic disney prince
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real tol
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crying to mcr
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virgin power
'BB-5A!' the astromech had introduced himself with the same unwavering enthusiasm that seemed to be a default setting around Scaramouche. It was not supposed to behave in that way, nor was it meant to bring cookies, but some droids were more autonomous than others. The BB8 unit had proved such with his escapades and it had made him the most famous droid in the whole galaxy!

Maybe one day BB-5A would be famous as well. For now, the droid seemed content with his back and forth rolling, that stopped when one of the Masters entered. But BB-5A refused to go away, proudly standing by his choice to make the guest feel at ease by offering him Kylo's cookies.

BB-5A had doubts as to how lucky it was, but knew better to not voice that out loud with Kylo there.

The dark haired man kept staring at Scaramouche, as if he was evaluating his every move and word. There were small hints of a certain inner awkwardness in his expression as the other carried on. Even in the company of an adroid, he was not in his element. There was a lot of personality in this one, reminding him of another spirited droid he had grown up with.

He pushed those thoughts down, focusing on the moment. But that might not be the most efficient of ideas, as Scaramouche used a very unexpected word to address him by. So surprising, that Kylo's eyes widened in shock, his collected demeanor cracking. Embarrassment and anger flared up in him, as he stared at the other, but he controlled himself before he said or did anything rash.

The android did not know what he was. He would have a more accurate opinion if Kylo had worn a mask, which was becoming essential for interactions with others. Not that some wise crackers would not have comments about that as well, but Kylo preferred them speaking of a mask and not his face.

'I don't have experience.' he admitted flatly. As to what he was hoping to achieve, that was a tad more complicated than he liked to reveal. But he had to say something. He seemed thoughtful for a while, eyes drifting away from the tutor until he spoke again. 'Pass the time.' he uttered in a low tone. It wasn't a lie anyway.

'Lonely.' hummed BB-5A, snapping Kylo's attention back to the droid and giving a look that indicated that if the astromech spoke again, he would make it fly out of the window.



OOC. its beautiful, like a young severus snape , bless you <3333
 
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Scaramouche

Samurai Jack
The Assassin with the Sassin'
Posts
147
Location
anywhere the wind blows
Species
Android
Height
8'
Occupation
"Problem" Solver
Alignment
Chaotic Neutral
Wahey, wahey~! The android clicked his dainty heels and let loose a playful wiggle-wog of his hips, his PSU soaring to loftier and loftier heights. How could it not when in the presence of such infectious company? It's a pleasure to meet'cha, BB-5A, baby~! Scaramouche winked. Always happy to encounter a 'bot as lively as moi. We're kind of a rare breed, y'know! And not always looked upon highly, but, y'know... The world was what it was, prejudices and all.

Take this 'Master' fellow, example. His appreciation for the robotic seemed to waffle between admiration and disdain, depending on the unit. And such a horrible glare he gave poor BB-5A!! Mm, no. Not a fan.

Alas! Professionalism first, personal grievances later.

Like a hungry shark given but a single drop of blood, the high heel-wearing automaton did what he did best: he simply grinned, ceramic teeth on dazzling display in the welcoming glow of the fireplace, and went for the jugular. "Hmmm...~! No experience and merely to pass the time... Interestin'." Loneliness was the more logical bet (along with lots and lots of bottled frustration), but that would be his little secret with BB-5A. The taller machine circled his prospective pupil with a sinister calm, gait perfectly synchronized to the cadence of an unseen drum, and once again loomed beside the hearth upon concluding his body scan.

"Most interestin'," he echoed, lenses flickering. It would appear, after careful observation, that the darkened individual standing before him -- what, with his tall, dark, and ominous pretenses -- was as every much angry and intense as he was awkward and conflicted.

Worse still, he was also dreadfully constipated in the emotions department.

Scaramouche wouldn't mince words; this guy had 'problem child' written all over him, from mysterious scar to polished boots, and he was probably the kind of problem child that murdered his own father only to clumsily internalize the gross misdeed after the fact.

He knew the type.

And he knew it well enough to recognize that these lessons (plural, should today's be successful) were going to be an uphill battle.

Look how daddy suffers for you, One-One! Look!!

That particularly unpleasant detail out of the way, Scaramouche squared his shoulders and met his pupil's (again, prospective) scathing gaze the best way he knew how. "Yeah, I guess playin' the organ gets a lil' old after a while, don't it~?" the android remarked, shameless as always.

Sorry, kid, but you weren't getting more than a second to digest just what in the heck Scaramouche said because the robot was already pacing back and forth, rolling his wrist and lecturing like the best of 'em. Remember, keep up!

"However, you're gonna have to nurture a stronger reason than that if you wanna play an instrument, baby! Music is a passion. A doorway to the soul. Treat it lightly, and it's gonna sound shitty. D'ya want your soul soundin' shitty, babe?" On this, the nasally bucket o' bolts wouldn't budge. Not even if the master of the house chucked him out a window or sliced his limbs off with a laser sword. "Still! Ya seem like a dogged sort, I'll give ya that," Scaramouche added, crossing his slender arms. "And ya have the makings of discipline, though whether or not it's the right discipline remains to be seen. Tell me, babe... if ya had to choose an instrument that captures your soul perfectly, any at all, what wouldja choose?"

While the sullen man chewed on that, he swiped another cookie and muttered his thanks to BB-5A with a low, singular beep. "There's no right or wrong answer, so don't overthink it. Let your heart do the talkin', not your head." And that was all the android wrote as he took a polite -- crunch! -- bite of his treat, now Scaramouche's second, as his unwavering optics remained fixated upon the young broodling before him.

The urge to hum a certain theme was quite strong, but his desire to live stronger.



((OOC: Ha ha haaaa! A young Severus Snape, hubba-hubba!! I'm glad you enjoyed it!))
 
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Ben Solo

Star Wars
Swole but not Whole
Posts
286
Location
Hoth Topic
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ok boomer
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Disaster
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he/him/bitch
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goffic disney prince
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crying to mcr
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virgin power
He truly avoided having his fits of aggression cause damage to the droids and preferred inanimate objects when he needed something to break. He could perfectly understand why mistreating droids was not right, even if he had mistreated and killed quite a few living beings in his time. Some, like BB-5A had the talent of getting under his skin more than others, but still, he had to admit they made better companions compared to other sentient beings.

So he returned his eyes on his android guest, seemingly less wild than before and BB5A remained defiant but silent. The musician had taken an interest on him, which made Kylo feel a tad concerned, but he hid it as best he could. None could intimidate him, not in this place.

Head tilted at a verbal expression he did not quite understood, he kept his gaze steady and largely unaffected. But what came next intrigued him and Kylo's expression could not deny it. With all their talks about passion, it was curious the Sith had not explored this creative angle further, or perhaps some had and he was unaware. The Empire had banned certain forms of music, but that practise, to his knowledge, was directed towards filthy Rebel songs.

It was clear that he was following with interest, though every time the prospective tutor referred to Kylo Ren, Commander of the First Order and aspiring Supreme Leader, terror of the galaxy and heir to Darth Vader, as baby, he could not help but feel his anger boiling.

He bit the inside of his upper lip as he mulled over the question, the drums of Akiva coming to mind, but he was more than just uncontrollable fury. 'I have heard some types of guitars. They have interesting sounds. I don't think flutes or trumpets are fitting. Well, perhaps the larger types of them are.' he spoke, brows furrowing at the novelty of the conversation. When was the last time anyone had asked him about what instrument matched his soul? If they had, he didn't remember of it.

'I know that I can't stand cheerful tones. Or cantina music.' he added, resisting the urge to make a face, because Kylo Ren was serious. Even on this subject
.
 
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Scaramouche

Samurai Jack
The Assassin with the Sassin'
Posts
147
Location
anywhere the wind blows
Species
Android
Height
8'
Occupation
"Problem" Solver
Alignment
Chaotic Neutral
Droids making for better companions than their flesh-and-blood counterparts? You got that right, Benny Boy!! Er, Kylo... *Cough cough!* Point is, Scaramouche would've plastered a gold star on your report card if he could. (As if being obnoxiously called 'babe' and 'baby' wasn't bad enough.)

"Oooh, the gee-tar, huh~?" Why'd he say it all funny-like...? "Funny, I would've bet good money on ya bangin' a set of tubs 'til ya went deaf in the ears!" Y'know, like one of those wild, crazed, black-adorned antisocial creatures that commonly roamed the local shopping malls in packs, screaming obscenities in their pagan tongue at the poor, hapless bystanders just wanting to buy yet another jar of scented candle they didn't need.

Those mascara-wearing freaks claimed to love music in its purest form, but what was so appealing about 'writing sins, not tragedies'...? Bleurgh!! You can't trust anybody who thought Tripp pants were haute couture!

The android nearly done gagged and tossed his cookies -- literally. His broodling, his broodling! Think of his broodling! Who probably shopped at Space Hot Topic (but that was already miles better than just plain, ol', dumb Normal Hot Topic, and thus forgivable). "R-Right, the guitar~! That would've been my second guess," Scaramouche nodded with a larger-than-life grin. Flutes and trumpets were lovely instruments in their own rights, absolutely! ...But could you honestly picture this angst-drenched turbo-virgin daintily trilling away like a satyr frolicking off into the night? Or blowing out his cheeks with such gusto that even the vaunted likes of Louis Armstrong couldn't help but tip his hat?

Yeah, Scaramouche couldn't either.

"It is decided!!" The android struck an emphatic pose, his finger directed to the musical gods looking down upon them from way up high. Lords of the Riff, give him strength. "You may not be a Van Halen or Johnny Cash within the month, baby," Scaramouche winked, "but we'll make an axeman outta ya yet!!" But first...

'I know that I can't stand cheerful tones. Or cantina music.'


Snort.

Guess that automatically ruled out peppy mariachi music. Bummer!
(He sorta had a soft spot for it...)

Scaramouche couldn't help but playfully roll his optics as he sashayed his way toward a nearby couch, ruby heels producing a pleasing lil' -- click-a-clack, click-a-clack~! -- melody to the ears. "Why am I not surprised~?" But first, in order to shred with the best of 'em and blow everybody's minds, his broodling needed to get on his knees (kinky~!!) and get familiar with the dirt.

Wham, bam, thank you ma'am!!

The android slapped a thick stack of paper on the coffee table (there's a coffee table, right...?) and got his metal tush comfy in the cushions (unless his broodling sat on sharp rocks and thorny spines, the masochist). "Time for the basics!" And the robot declared that way too brightly.

It was about to get worse.

A whole lot worse.

Unleash the rainbow!! Scaramouche fished out a packet of color-coded markers and got right to bid'ness, starting with the master of the house's favorite -- black, like his soooooul. "First things first, babe!" He wrenched the marker's cap off with his teeth and went a-scribblin'. Squeak, squeak, squeak! "Before you can play an instrument -- from the lowly recorder to the meanest Mama Jamas of 17th century pipe organs -- you'll need to learn the fundamentals. Today, we're gonna start with a couple of fairly simple buildin' blocks, designed particularly for greenhorns such as yourself."

Scaramouche eased away from his work and let his broodling nudge in for a better look-see, eagerly awaiting a reaction similar to the golden tune of 'huuuuh...??'.


...
...
...

...Looked an awful lot like five lines and a great big squiggly, didn't it?

"Mm~!!" All right, that's enough time to gawk. The android then turned to his broodling and smiled, knowing full well of the challenges and frustrations that lied ahead, but also of the reward waiting at the end of the tunnel. Psyche! The tunnel never ends. But the reward was very real. "Are ya ready, Kylo Ren, to embark on what will undoubtedly be the most arduous, fulfilling, and mind-blowingly awesome journey of your life?"
 
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Ben Solo

Star Wars
Swole but not Whole
Posts
286
Location
Hoth Topic
Age
ok boomer
Gender
Disaster
Pronouns
he/him/bitch
Species
goffic disney prince
Height
real tol
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crying to mcr
Relationship Status
virgin power


While the way he expressed himself wasn’t anywhere close to a semblance of respect, Kylo could not argue against the validity of the android’s words. Playing the drums seemed like an excellent method to unleash someone’s frustrations, but their sound was a tad on the primitive side for Kylo to fully declare himself the most passionate of supporters. He had a different type of music in mind, that was not only angry but also expressed melancholy, bitterness, regret and other, esoteric kind of feelings. Seemed like the guitar could be an outlet for those, as well as the piano, though that would be harder to acquire. He could carry a guitar on a ship with no trouble whatsoever.

Perhaps there were other instruments he was not yet familiar with that the android knew of. Kylo was not the expert here, hence expecting assistance. Were his tutore a little less spirited and resembing the strangest of C3P0’s behaviors, Kylo would be a lot more at ease. Not recognizing any of the names he had listed, he watched him with a blank expression, but it did not last for long as he went back to the mixture of irritated but eager. ‘I have a name! I know that you are aware of it.’ he finally snapped, but he did not allow his anger to overwhelm him, because he needed his teacher functional in order to learn. Perhaps appearing threatening would do. It worked for many of the First Order’s officers, Resistance fighters, various warlords and scum of the galaxy. Though Kylo had labelled the android in the Dameron-Hux category of people who enjoyed defying him no matter if it was against their own well being.

But on to the more important matters, the other had begun writing something down, spilling pencils and paper on the small ebony table by the couch. Kylo’s eyes followed and he found bending forwards, with an intrigued look, as the android drew lines on the paper. He had to admit that he seemed experienced, the way his fingers moved up and down and for a few moments, Kylo seemed mesmerized. If drawing was part of the lesson, he already knew he was going to impress him.

He was not entirely sure what the symbol was supposed to represent and he had doubts about the lines, though it certainly looked elegant. Then his teacher finally used his name to address him and his mood kept improving. ‘You are raising very high expectations.’ he pointed out. ‘We’ll see if you fulfill them. What do the symbols mean?’ he questioned, clearly intrigued already.



 
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Scaramouche

Samurai Jack
The Assassin with the Sassin'
Posts
147
Location
anywhere the wind blows
Species
Android
Height
8'
Occupation
"Problem" Solver
Alignment
Chaotic Neutral
((OOC Note: this post is best read without the site's sidebar, but it'll make do if you choose otherwise!))

...Gadzooks! Wouldja get a load of the anger on this Alice Cooper-wannabe? Scaramouche pretended to tweak the imaginary ear on the side of his head. "Duly noted -- " Cue the pregnant pause. Will he? Won't he? Optics narrowed, if ever so slightly. " -- Master Ren~!" Seems the android thought better about poking the bear, though he did wear his usual toothy grin and appear largely unfazed by such uncouth display of poor manners.

But it was good that his lil' broodling kept rapt attention on teacher's work. Very, very good (because, as much as the android loved music, he wasn't in the business of charity work).

...Not that Kylo -- ahem -- Master Ren appreciate such a noble and selfless gesture.

‘You are raising very high expectations. We’ll see if you fulfill them. What do the symbols mean?’


Pffft!!

Scaramouche just rolled his optics and wore a cocky, lil' smirk. Really...? This kid thought he could tango with the Lord Junk of Funk? Gotta hand it to the snotty punk -- he had a pair the size of twin moons. "Just keep up, Master~!" came a playful tease. If the android was mysteriously found on the side of some abandoned country road one day, all cut up and twisted into unrecognizable pieces of scrap, tell his son it was worth it. And now, without further ado...


♫~~ MUSIC, MAESTRO!! ~~♫



"Okay, my lil' stinkerbelle, listen to Maestro and listen good!! Contrary to popular belief, he's not as worthless as he looks..."
"Look familiar? ...I'll take that smoldering glare of yours as a 'yes'. Anywho, all this fancy-shmancy gobbledygook makes up what we in the music biz call the partition (AKA: sheet music or full musical score). More importantly, those five horizontal lines and four spaces in-between them are collectively known as the staff, and they each represent a different musical pitch. It'll be where you'll read -- and maybe someday write -- music, so don't gloss over the details! It's muy importante. It's also a lot to take in -- so let's b-b-break it down, from left to right!!"
"Now, nearly all music is written in a clef, and this is how musicians, even aspirin' ones such as yourself, can denote the names and pitch of the musical notes you wish to play and/or read. For simplicity's sake, I've chosen one of the two most common keys, Treble Clef -- that's the big squiggly symbol with the curly-q tail at the far, far left. And looky-here, Master Ren!! It's even the key of choice for your chosen instrument, the gee-taur~! After we've learned what's what and feel comfortable with the material, I'll teach ya more about pitches. For now, it's solely the buildin' blocks.

Oh, and if ya ever get stuck, just remember: guitar is played in the G Clef, which is another name for Treble (we'll pretend the French violin doesn't exist for now). Guitar. G Clef. Guitar. G Clef!

G, isn't that swell~? Let's move on!"

"Okay, now listen up, 'cause this is where things get funky. See those numbers stacked on top of each other? This is the time signature -- in Western musical notation (that is, a sect of music from the planet formerly known as Earth), it denotes how many beats are in a measure (also known as a bar). To make our lives easier, I've written the above in 4/4 time -- or Common Time. There are many other time signatures, but Common Time is -- as you've already guessed -- the most common.

So, if you were to read the above musical piece, you would note the time signature and understand it has four beats to the bar, hence the 4/4.

Ah~!! But what is a 'bar', you may ask? Why, that's a very good question, Master Ren~!

Let's see the below."

"A bar is a written 'measure' (see what I did there?) of time that corresponds to a specific number of beats. In this case, I've written the above in 4/4 time, so there will be four beats to the bar. I've highlighted the first bar above.

You are undoubtedly curious about the notes within that bar, but let's take one beautiful thing at a time, wee grosshopper.

Before I continue, d'ya have any questions? Any concerns?

Remember, as your dutiful tutor, there are no stupid questions I cannot satisfy with a stupid answer!! Also, ya mind if I have another cookie? They're just finger-lickin' good, and all this yappin' makes me hungrier than a hippo!"

 
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Ben Solo

Star Wars
Swole but not Whole
Posts
286
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Hoth Topic
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ok boomer
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Disaster
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he/him/bitch
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goffic disney prince
Height
real tol
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crying to mcr
Relationship Status
virgin power

While his title was not spoken with the sincerity that he would have preferred, nonetheless it sounded better than the other words the droid had used to address him. So, Kylo showed signs of approval in return and chose to utilise all the patience he was capable of for the sake of the lesson. It wasn't a considerable amount, due to a combination of genetics and all the wrong choices, but it ensured his teacher would keep living.

Which was important for the lessons, because there was no way Kylo would go around Pandora, speaking to potential teachers. The droid was all he had.

And he was very efficient.

He side eyed him when he spoke of his worthy in a self deprecating manner, but continue to listen without interrupting, even as the droid kept using strange words. The symbols on the paper and the names assigned to them begun making sense and without realising it, the man was looking more and more enthralled. His heart fluttered at the idea of writing music by himself. The ability to be creative, make things that grabbed the attention of others and express oneself thro
ugh craft were all fascinating notions. He found himself mouthing G Clef, as he stared some more, remaining focused so as to not miss any explanations.

He was many things and for better or for worse, eager student had been one of those. Trying his best to impress figures in power, going after approval and praise. All of that was clear in how his anger had dissipated and replaced with a more subdued expression. So engrossed he was, that when his teacher changed the subject, he found himself staring at him, momentarily, with questioning eyes. 'Help yourself.' he spoke after a few moments, gesturing at the plate. Then, his attention went back to the music sheet, mulling over what he had learned.

'How do I measure the beats?' he asked, shadows of insecurity in his dark eyes. 'There is a difference if they are four, or three or more, isn't there? What is it?' he continued, looking at the other.




ooc. WORDS CANNOT DESCRIBE HOW IN AWE I AM OF YOUR CREATIVE WORK AND UR THOUGHTFULNESS. you floor me, thank you
 
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Scaramouche

Samurai Jack
The Assassin with the Sassin'
Posts
147
Location
anywhere the wind blows
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Android
Height
8'
Occupation
"Problem" Solver
Alignment
Chaotic Neutral
...Well, what d'ya know?
Music really does soothe the savage beast.

The kid -- or man-baby, as Scaramouche 'fondly' thought of his broodling -- was curiously turning rather... pleasant. Not enough to invite Kylo out to lunch and shoot the breeze with, of course, but... It was a step in the right direction, and that's all anyone could ever ask for. The android smiled, keeping his innermost thoughts to himself (for once), and made it his absolute mission -- no matter what -- to nourish his pupil's insatiable appetite for the arts. Perhaps this could be the start of something beautiful...?

'How do I measure the beats? There is a difference if they are four, or three or more, isn't there? What is it?'


"Hm, what an excellent question, Master Ren~!" ...Oh, that'll never catch on. But!! Compromise was the key to greater cooperation -- and to keeping that hotheaded temper in check, so 'Master Ren' it was going to be. "Your intuition is correct; there is indeed a difference. One of several, in fact!" Scaramouche reached for another cookie (how many, he lost count) and took as teensy a bite as his gigantic chompers would allow. Munch, munch, munch... Mm, chocolate chip! His favorite, next to snickerdoodle. Oatmeal raisin was for chumps. "But to understand that difference," he continued, giving his half-eaten morsel a whimsical lil' wiggle, "you'll first need to understand how it is written. From there, Master Ren, the musical world shall be your oyster, and your mind its pearl~!"

Ah, but that was enough exposition. It was time to put his cookie where his big mouth was, and the android once again got to scribbling like a 'bot possessed. "Let's continue before I slip into somethin' more comfortable, like a food coma!" Preferably after a nice glass of ice-cold milk.


Spoiler'd because lengthy (I'm sorry!!)
((Ahhhh, thank you so much for your compliments and patience! I apologize for taking so long, but know that I put my all into it! I wanna hear Kylo Ren play punk/alternative rock so, so bad...!! Scaramouche would probably cry, tho, not gonna lie.))
 
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Ben Solo

Star Wars
Swole but not Whole
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Hoth Topic
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ok boomer
Gender
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Pronouns
he/him/bitch
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goffic disney prince
Height
real tol
Occupation
crying to mcr
Relationship Status
virgin power


At first, Kylo's eyes were both eager and satisfied with his question being addressed and elaborated. As his teacher continued, he appeared more and more spellbound, drawn in by the droid's extreme competence and knowledge of the subject. That was a type of power as well. And however strange, his teacher wielded it with ease.

His eyes were travelling from the symbols, that he know slowly but surely recognized to the tutor, occasionally mouthing the particularly significant words, like the 'quarter note', the rule about the four beats. While learning music was based on techniques, as he begun to understand, still he thought there was a mystical element between the symbols and the sounds as he stared at the mechanic hand writing the notes. Kylo was sitting perfectly still and wordless, so as to not miss one word of the explanations. Quarter note, half note, whole note, different beat depending on which he saw or wished to write. It was something he could remember, yet he was nearly overwhelmed with information. But he wouldn't admit that.

He was relieved that his tutor was keen on demonstrating though. Kylo looked at him, unaware of just how innocent and fragile he seemed when he was so engrossed, as he begun to make sounds. The melody wasn't anything special, but the fact that he could distinguish the notes now filled him with pride. His heart beat faster when the droid turned to him. 'I can do it. I want to write something.' he spoke immediately, a spark of excitement and anticipation in his eyes as he stared at the other.





ooc. I SHOWED UR ART AND EVERYONE UNANIMOUSLY LOVED IT omgggggg thank uuuu
i would also be better at music if i had u as my music professor at school
the truth is he wants to learn music so he can play this im sorry Scaramouche
 
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Scaramouche

Samurai Jack
The Assassin with the Sassin'
Posts
147
Location
anywhere the wind blows
Species
Android
Height
8'
Occupation
"Problem" Solver
Alignment
Chaotic Neutral
It was as if a million fireworks went off in Scaramouche's head.

'I can do it. I want to write something.'

Because this was the moment.

This was the moment where the observer became the observed. Where there the line between flesh and metal became lost, and where the walls of this building, this world, and even that of the mind ceased to be in the everything and the nothing.

This was the moment where magic became real, and Master Ren had now become indistinguishable from something without beginning or end.

"Hm...~!" A note of delight quavered throughout the air as the eccentric robot passed his teaching materials on to his student. Scaramouche uncharacterstically said nothing, but he felt there was no need. The lessons, though rudimentary in design and execution, had found their intended mark. A spark illuminated in the depths of the young man's darkened eyes. It was frightened, almost too feeble to last the moment, but it had just enough defiance within its nascent body to withstand if for nothing else than the right to exist. And it was within this stolen glimpse of the actor behind the mask -- of the real Kylo Ren -- that the android felt his own controversial existence validated in that wondering gaze.

Scaramouche smiled, as the mechanical nuisance-turned-tutor was wont to do, and gestured casually to the blank canvas awaiting Master Ren's authority. "Go ahead, Master Ren," he spoke encouragingly. "Write whatever comes to body, mind, and soul. The power of creation is now yours to wield; whatever you make, we shall play."

And all the world shall be brought to listen.


10,000 Years in MS Paint
((AhhhHHHHH, I'm so glad!! You are very, very welcome, and it was my pleasure, truly! I am also immensely grateful for your words of confidence; there's probably mistakes abound, but it was a fun excursion into the arts nonetheless! It's almost as if an ancient evil old flame rekindled from deep within me...

...Then again, that could just be Kylo's taste in music reminding me of that "one" phase in high school.

ROCK YOUR MOODY LITTLE GOTH HEART OUT, KYLO.))
 
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Ben Solo

Star Wars
Swole but not Whole
Posts
286
Location
Hoth Topic
Age
ok boomer
Gender
Disaster
Pronouns
he/him/bitch
Species
goffic disney prince
Height
real tol
Occupation
crying to mcr
Relationship Status
virgin power

While he had expressed his desire in haste and with confidence, the eyes that were staring at his tutor told another story. He was hesitant, almost fearful, that he was moving faster than appropriate and he would be berated and dismissed as a result. He chewed the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to be patient and then, as his teacher spoke, his eyes grew wide in surprise. Whatever he had expected, that tone of encouragement and nonconcern was not it. Kylo remained silent for a few moments, looking every bit like a young boy about to ride a bike, or pilot his father’s ship, for the first time. His eyes were questioning and seeking validation, but soon enough he found strength within himself and picked his stylus with steady hands.

His bottom lip slightly trembled as he began to draw the symbols he had been taught on the music sheet. He tried to remind himself all the rules he had listened to and how to use them in order to express the type of sounds that interested him. Low notes filled his mind and melodies that evoked melancholy instead of joyful feelings. Every now and then, he would pause, glance at his tutor with an uncertainty he did not wish to admit and then focus on the sheet again. His emotions were turbulent, as it usually happened when he was not in control, but instead of lashing out, he was managing to direct all his energy to his task. He had many doubts about the success of what he was doing, but he could not bring himself to give up. He was silent as a grave, the only sounds coming from him being his anxious breaths.

He was equal parts insecure and determined, as was often the case with him for many things. Eventually, he placed his stylus down hesitantly and inspected the sheet before he could hand it to the droid. By then, it was difficult to concentrate on the lines any longer, but he held onto it for a while, before he nodded to himself. ‘It’s finished.’ he proclaimed quietly, both to himself and his tutor. Then he handed it over hesitantly, heart beating like a drum in his chest. Brown eyes filled with anticipation were looking at Scaramouche and he hadn’t realised that his eyebrows were raised in an expression of inquiry and worry. Would it be good enough? He had reasons to have many doubts over his abilities in general.



ooc.
realistically, there's probs a few mistakes like missing notes that i didnt have time to edit hahaha but there u go, art!
 

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