# [closed post]

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan has devised another activity to occupy her days. By the calendar's reckoning, the start of spring is roughly a week away. Between her and Tress, they've got the outline of a plan for the next Dark, and Susan is happy to rely on people who've got greater interest in and skill for growing things insofar as agriculture goes. But the growing season here shall be longer than usual, and Susan should like to have some idea about what that might mean for the ecosystem,

This is her flimsy excuse to pardon the latest stack of books she's currently carrying out of the library. There is a marginal off-chance that preparatory reading on soil biota could, potentially, be useful. Perhaps she might even talk someone else into reading on the subject as well, so that they might discuss it.

Comments

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan would like to try it! She sits carefully, glancing to Galahad to ensure she's got it right.

[onthewillowsthere]

He nods and switches on the kotatsu; at once warmth begins to radiate out from the heating element affixed to the bottom of the table. It is lovely. Meanwhile, Galahad begins setting up the Little Violet record on the record player.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"How marvelous," Susan breathes. She doesn't often get terribly cold but this is awfully cozy.

[onthewillowsthere]

Galahad's hands flutter for a moment, signing warm, good -- he loves the kotatsu. As the music begins, he joins Susan, tucking his cold feet under it.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

There are things Susan would like to ask Galahad - for example, ought she learn sign language? - but she'd also like to give the music he wants to show her her full attention. She leans in, focusing.

[onthewillowsthere]

He sits quietly, equally attentive to the album -- Code Red -- as the brassy, jazzy sounds of swing flow from the record player. Music is a seemingly-endless source of novelty, new sounds and words he almost feels as flavors, as if every new kind of instrument or pitch of voice is something he can capture on his tongue.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan listens to music in the same way she does many things: with a great deal of focus and deliberateness. Now she closes her eyes, taking in the instrumentation and the words, tasting the way they feel together. It's good. She likes it. Her lip curls.

[onthewillowsthere]

He'd chosen it because it reminds him of Claudius as well as Susan, the ways in which they overlap, and his attention shifts to her, interested.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

The first song thoroughly captivates Susan, full of the sort of innuendos that are laced through some of her own favorites, and she loses herself to the sounds of it. During the second, her brow furrows, and she reaches to stop the record player at its end so that she and Galahad can speak without interrupting her experience of any subsequent songs. "I don't believe I understand that one," she admits. "I mean, I understand the central conceit, but I don't follow the film metaphor."

[onthewillowsthere]

"What part of it?" Galahad asks, quite seriously -- Claudius has told him some things about movies, so there's a chance he'll understand.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Color and sound haven't got anything to do with each other. I'm as old as sound in film, you know. Color came later." She pauses, and think back on what she said, and a smile flickers across her face. "I mean, I was born the same year they started filming with sound. I suppose that's less of a useful frame of reference here. 'Black and white' doesn't necessarily imply 'silent,' and just because they hadn't any sound doesn't mean they hadn't any dialogue. There were intertitles, you know. Filmed cards with the dialogue written on them."

[onthewillowsthere]

"So it's imprecise."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Rather, yes."

[onthewillowsthere]

Galahad also dislikes imprecision. He nods.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Point made, Susan starts the record again, now on the third track.

[onthewillowsthere]

He listens with her, savoring the warmth of the kotatsu on his feet and hands (which are folded neatly in his lap), the sound of the music, the faint smell of Claudius' favorite perfume. He loves these rooms, which feel more like home than anywhere ever has. He belongs here, in this life.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan settles into the sound of the scratch of the record, the little mechanical whirr underneath it, and the sound coming out of the machine. It's a little more stripped-down than the music she gravitated toward in London, and it's clear music has shifted somewhat since her time, but she likes it very much. There are songs she likes better, but none that she specifically dislikes.

She is, she finds, smiling faintly.

[onthewillowsthere]

Galahad can't read her, any better than he can read anyone who isn't Claudius, but he trusts her to be someone who'll just tell him if she's bored or thinks he should make a cup of tea, and that soothes any anxiety he might feel. When the record ends he looks over at her.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I quite liked that," says Susan, ruminatively, looking back at Galahad. "I admit, I prefer the songs with the, ah. Double entendres."

[onthewillowsthere]

"I thought you would."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Her lips twist in a faint wry smile. "What do you like about it?"

[onthewillowsthere]

"It reminds me of Claudius. And I'm trying to learn to tell different instruments apart. I'm not very good at it yet, but I can tell some of the ones in these songs."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Oh? What have you sorted out so far?"

[onthewillowsthere]

"There is a piano in many of them. And a trumpet. Drums. The others I don't know yet. I have to learn the instruments, too."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I'm afraid I've always been fairly rubbish at distinguishing instruments," Susan admits. "I've got a miserable ear in that regard. The closest I've come to playing any sort of instrument was with my old horn."