Neos is in the Library, that day Nova Mortis decides to jam out. Since the only thing she's found so far is The Royal Guards' Manual for Combat, Supply, and Training-- one of the driest bits of history she's come across in a good while--
She, briefly, closes the book, and pays full attention to the riff, to the way its rhythm sparks against the chords, the slight imperfections of tone as Mortis's fingers must be moving along the fretboard, the tremolo and thrum of electric guitar she's heard often on passing radios (surely they're radios! How could you keep the CD stable?).
Deciding that, for the moment, this is more interesting than pushing through minute and exhaustive advice for the beginning guard and the Constellation Officer, she stands up, closes the book, and peeks her head into the lounge.
A
She, briefly, closes the book, and pays full attention to the riff, to the way its rhythm sparks against the chords, the slight imperfections of tone as Mortis's fingers must be moving along the fretboard, the tremolo and thrum of electric guitar she's heard often on passing radios (surely they're radios! How could you keep the CD stable?).
Deciding that, for the moment, this is more interesting than pushing through minute and exhaustive advice for the beginning guard and the Constellation Officer, she stands up, closes the book, and peeks her head into the lounge.