A Curious Audience (Social)

Her head snapped in the direction of Noah's voice, just as she feared that he might have grown bored of waiting and left. He was sitting in the middle of the tables. Upon her looking toward him, he waved his hands, which reminder her that she should move. Without managing to disrupt the barmaids too much, Hannah made it to the table, taking a seat opposite Noah. Gingerly she handed over his robe, still neatly folded into a bundle. She smiled a weak smile, for smiling still felt unnatural, as he took it from her.

As he did what he pleased with his garment, Hannah noticed a bunch of papers sprawled out onto the table before her. She suddenly became worried she had interrupted something, but couldn't voice her concern. Getting his attention the only way she knew how, Hannah quickly dragged her hand across her harp, finishing on a high note. When Noah looked to her, she nodded to the table which held the papers.

Noah hung up the coat for a while, then as he returned, he scratched his neck and avoided her gaze. Actually being in the midst of the action was far more embarrassing than thinking about or planning it. "This? Well... I thought, maybe, since you said you couldn't write, I could try to teach you, but..." the tactician's ensuing glare could've started a fire in the room.

"...I haven't found much progress, as you might see." The scribbles probably meant nothing to her; they meant next to nothing to him, and he'd written them! "I apologize for the trouble last night," he muttered. He'd heard tales of the moon doing funny things to a person's head; he normally didn't put much stock into such talk but last night was certainly odd enough to fit the bill.

For someone who was used to having entire audiences trying to catch her gaze (although those days were behind her), Hannah found it peculiar that Noah was trying to avoid hers. His sheepish reply was welcome though. When at last he allowed himself to look 'at' her, she shook her head in refusal of his apology, sealed with the slightest of smiles. She reached across the table, pulling one of the closer pieces of paper towards her. To her astonishment, she noticed some of the markings.

Hesitantly, she stood from her seat, moving across to the next seat so she was closer to Noah. While she sat down, her hair curtained around her slightly blushing face. As she pressed the left side of her hair behind her ear, Hannah reached for an unmarked paper and a quill, resting idly in an inkwell. After drawing a set of lines, the ex-songstress drew out the scale of musical notes effortlessly. It came to her completely naturally, much like words did for Noah, she assumed.

Hannah looked up for a moment, her spare hand pointing at a line of letters which Noah had written. Her finger hovered above 'a', before sliding her finger across the table to the first note. she then took her harp, balancing it in her lap. With a finger, she traced the first letters of the alphabet, plucking the desired string while pointing to the correct letter for the note. Upon reaching G, she stopped, resting her harp down and looking to Noah.

At first, Noah didn't understand what Hannah was doing, going through a staff the way she was, but after a few notes in ascending order he realized that the notes in music were called c, d, e, f, g, a, and b. It would make sense for her to know those characters; she had to use them in her trade.

"Ah... so you know those ones? Or rather, do you know how to form them, or only recognize them as what they are?" To demonstrate his point, he tried forming an a slowly, so that she would be able to see it. Then he sketched around an outline of it, with arrows showing the strokes to make it.

After nodding at his question, she became attentive as he crafted an 'a'. After he had finished, she shook her head slowly at him. She had never needed to write out the letters for the notes: she knew them purely by sound and the position of them on sheets of music. Hannah took a deep breath as she scoured the paper, taking note of the arrows Noah had drawn for her. Even though he'd written it slowly, it seemed extremely difficult.
It's the same as the swirls in musical notes... I just have to...

As though she were handling an explosive device, Hannah dragged the quill across the paper, leaving a shaky line of black ink in its wake. Halfway through, her hand took control of itself, looping the top of the letter instead of continuing on straight. Her hand shaking, she released the quill, which fell soundlessly to rest on her failed attempt.

Embarrassed, she shook her head. Her fingers desperately quivered, seeking the comforting stress of harp strings. Hannah crushed her hands against the table, afraid of digging herself a bigger hole: he probably thought she was stupid.

Noah watched her struggle to form the shape. It was clearly difficult for her to identify the concept as an actual symbol, and her hands shook a little as she sketched. The end result left something to be desired, but... There must have been something that could help her. He closed his eyes and contemplated what he knew about her. She was a musician, and he'd seen her use her harp, so...

The tactician took her hand in his. "Here," he said quietly, guiding her hand gently through the curves and lines. "I know it's hard, so try memorizing the movement first. Close your eyes," he said, then traced the figure with her hand a few times. "It... may not be a perfect analogy, but try thinking of writing as the same as your playing; just worry about your hands first, and the results will come later."

A sharp intake of breath followed as Noah took her hand into his. His hold was reassuring and soft, causing Hannah to flush further. She watched her hand, guided by his, forming the letter on the paper. The pressures he put on her fingers felt strange, but not all unfamiliar. In the same way she curled her fingers to pluck her harp strings, Noah was bending her fingers with his in order to steer the direction of the quill. After the first time, she obeyed him and closer her eyes. She visualised the letter, memorising the feel of her hand, Noah's... No, her hand. His words of wisdom rang in her mind as she carried on.

For the fourth time, she moved the quill, forming the letter as she had been instructed. Hannah opened her eyes as she finished the final stroke of the 'a'. To her shock, Noah's hand was gone. If she had been able to speak, she would have gasped. It felt as though a doorway had swung open in front of her as she imagined writing full words, sentences, pages...

Her cheeks still slightly radiant from the contact, Hannah grinned at Noah, expelling her breath and nodding her head to express her thanks.

Very quickly, the figures she drew became more and more distinctive, until finally she had a perfectly recognizable letter before her. Truthfully, he was amazed at the speed of her progress; he wasn't aware that it would go so smoothly. There were probably things that could've been improved, but they would come naturally as she continued to write, and if she learned to, the skill would undoubtedly come in handy and be used much.

Noah nodded back at her, a tiny smile forming at the corner of his lips. Her joy seemed contagious, for some reason... "I'd say that's a good start. Did you want to continue, or...?"

Hannah felt a sudden pang. Was he to leave? Implicitly, she gazed at his robe, which was hung up. If she continued with the practise, would he tire of her and leave? She hadn't had this level of human interaction since her accident, she was sure. The worry must have been clear in her eyes, for she felt them soften, fading to a glow from the fires of excitement and triumph that had flared there previously. An idea that crept into her head caused her breath to come in fast-paced wisps.

Gingerly she lowered the quill to the paper again.

I've heard them a thousand times... It can't be hard to write... Come on...

Y.....U.....U..... L...E...E....V...

She wrote, the letters irregular and barely close enough to resemble words. She wasn't even sure how they were spelt, and she had to reference from Noah's papers several times. When she'd finished, she didn't dare look at her attempt. Instead, she looked at him once more, her hair falling across her left eye.

Noah watched on as she started again. It was honestly amazing to see her attempt a full sentence already... He himself had eased into it. She certainly had the passion for the art, at any rate. He supposed that was only natural for someone in her position, though.

He examined it as she wrote. The strokes were still untrained, but if nothing else she was showing signs of improvement. It wouldn't be a great stretch to make the writing more proper, and the shakiness would resolve itself in time.

Of course, as he was busy inspecting her penmanship, he only noticed what she had actually written once she was finished with it. The letters were a bit shaky, but... It seemed she was asking him to leave?

"...Oh," he said, realizing his intrusion. "Did you want me to? I can just--" he gestured to his coat, awkwardly.

She couldn't help but attempt to say it: it had only been six months after all.

No!

Her lips moved silently, then she shook her head in a flurry of locks. Without realising, she'd grasped at his hand, and it took a moment for the heat to pass through her skin. Awkwardly she recoiled, leaving her to stare into her lap. If only the past Hannah could see what had become of her: a quivering mess. Nobody would have guessed she used to perform to hundreds of people, day after day.

Once she had calmed down, she stood, making her way towards him. Hannah reached out, taking his coat and folding it into her chest before returning to her seat.

"Ah...?" Noah blinked as she protested quite strongly to his proposal. Apparently he'd misunderstood, and badly at that. It was the severity of her reaction that stunned him, and he found himself somewhat dumbfounded.

It didn't take long for the guilt to eat at him after the shock had worn off, and he rubbed the back of his neck as he approached her again. After the outburst, he felt as though he had done something that was in all senses perverse. It felt as though needles ran under his skin rather than blood. The tactician sighed and shook his head. What words to use...

"Um... I'm sorry. I'll stay as long as you need me here." He reclaimed his seat, trying not to look directly at her; lest she see the burning of his cheeks.

Her face immediately softened back into contentment at his words. Quickly she ran her fingers along her harp, gracing the room with a swift, pleasant melody before returning to her scribing. It was almost as though Noah's presence was a ward: for she felt at peace beneath his studious gaze.

Progress. It was something she hadn't had ever since... One day, Hannah hoped she'd be able to move on from the incident. Here was Noah, making an effort with her: not running for the hills or treating her like an orphan with a missing limb. She had to try. She wanted to try for him. With renewed determination, Hannah put her head down, scrawling out letters until her hands ached.

First grading, so don't be hating!

First off, I hope you guys can forgive me for not being able to provide a huge amount of commentary. This was a simple concept for an SRP that was nicely executed, short-but-sweet, so there's not much I can ask you guys to improve on. Spelling and grammar were mostly spot-on, and I enjoyed Hannah and Noah's interactions. They were pretty quick to hang out with each other, but that sort of thing is endemic to forum RPing.

The only thing that really bothered me was the abruptness of the ending; had I read this without first consulting the grading submission thread, I would have assumed this RP had died! Still, I guess that just means there's more ground to cover in the support you've earned, eh?

On to character-specific comments:

Hannah/Light:

Only you can hear me, Noah, what masterpiece shall we play today?

I'm really impressed that you've made a character with severe communicative disabilities, being unable to speak OR write, and yet are still able to have her interact with the world around her in such a rich and detailed manner. I know for a fact I couldn't do that. Bravo. I think it's really cool how she uses a mixture of magic and music to "speak," and it would be neat to see this expanded upon in later RPs. Perhaps she could learn to form letters with her magic?

Personality-wise, I found Hannah to be a pleasure to read. It thought was cute how easily she gets embarrassed, and her failed attempt at telling Noah not to leave was probably my favourite part of the thread. Your portrayal of her troubles with spelling really fleshed her out and made her feel real.

Make sure to add Hannah to your sig for future reference, though, HC's change to Xenforo removed sidebars.

Noah/UD:

I liked how Noah was passingly familiar with Hannah's previous work as a performer without having a deep connection to her in his backstory (really helps the setting feel real), and I'd be interested to see if he recalls more in his future dealings with her. Overall, he seemed like a pretty swell guy, a bit bumbling but a gentleman nonetheless. It was funny when he accidentally knocked himself over by fiddling with Hannah's instrument. I hope he didn't get too much mud and grass on it; it wouldn't do to lend a lady a dirty jacket! :P

I was kinda surprised by how self-depreciating he was, always quick to assume things were his fault. I wonder if it's a consequence of his profession as a tactician?

Anyways, keep up the good work, and I hope to see Noah again.

Support granted. Well done, guys. As always, any questions about this grading can be PMed to me, don't hesitate to ask. Darth signing off.

P.S. Do I smell romance in the air~