Post by rileysorique on May 19, 2010 16:37:45 GMT -7
Of course it had to be at night, and after curfew, when Riley could practice the best. There were a few reasons for this: one there normally wasn't anyone around, two if she messed up it wasn't embarrassing, and three it was easier to set up her drum set and microphone when there wasn't anybody barging in on her. All she had to worry about was Filch and random prefects, but nobody really came up to this area anyway. At least nobody came up here the first couple times she decided to have practice here. She took a deep breath, hoping for privacy (or at least no interruptions), as she started to unload her drum set. Hey being a witch had its perks for sure. One couldn't pack an entire drum set into a small suitcase very easily you know.
Riley plugged her instrument in to the amp beside it, placing a muting spell on it. She conjured a stool, pulled out her drum sticks and began to play. Slow beats at first, warming up the snare and bass, adding a little high-hat every now and then. After a couple minutes the beats came faster and formed themselves into something. If only the rest of the guys were here... She thought, then the beats would turn into a song... not the bones of a song. It needed more than rhythm, it needed meat. Riley paused, trying to think of how she could give it more. She was never a guitar player, and there's not much to sing to if she wasn't sure what song was playing. Her hands fell to her knees and she cocked her head in thought. But no, it could never work. She started to pick up where she left off, losing herself in the beat of percussion.
Riley plugged her instrument in to the amp beside it, placing a muting spell on it. She conjured a stool, pulled out her drum sticks and began to play. Slow beats at first, warming up the snare and bass, adding a little high-hat every now and then. After a couple minutes the beats came faster and formed themselves into something. If only the rest of the guys were here... She thought, then the beats would turn into a song... not the bones of a song. It needed more than rhythm, it needed meat. Riley paused, trying to think of how she could give it more. She was never a guitar player, and there's not much to sing to if she wasn't sure what song was playing. Her hands fell to her knees and she cocked her head in thought. But no, it could never work. She started to pick up where she left off, losing herself in the beat of percussion.