Disruptive Melody- Magnus Bane

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Meanwhile you were lost in thought as you made breakfast for yourself. You were about pour coffee for yourself when you heard a strange, unpleasant noise that almost made you spill the coffee.

You look around wondering what and where the sound came from. You shrug it off and proceed to serve your cup of coffee and, once again, the noise occurred again, this time causing you to drop the coffee pot. You stare in disbelief at the shattered pot. The noises continued, forcing you to place a finger in each ear to block it out.

"What is going on?!" you wonder out loud, and even your dog started to howl from the pain of having to listen to this unpleasant tune. 

When it finally stopped, you took your fingers out of your ears, "What the hell was that, and how do I make sure it doesn't happen again?" you ask yourself. You hear a commotion in the hallways outside your apartment and look outside. Turned out you weren't the only one who's morning was spoiled by this strange, disruptive melody.
"Hey, what the hell was that?" you question one of the neighbors. "I'm not sure," they answer, "but if cats could talk...they'd probably hate it too."

The noise reverberates across the hall, causing you and the neighbors to cover your ears. Everyone was too busy trying to block the noise, but you tried to pinpoint where it was coming from. The sound was traveling through the vents, indicating that it could be coming from anywhere in the building, but the best place to start looking would be the floor above you.

On said floor, you notice the volume of the stringed noise was increasing as you kept walking, so it was very likely that the source was close by.

You finally stop by one door and place your ear against it, which you immediately retracted. Yep, the source of this racket had to coming from there. You knock on the door and wait, but nobody answered, and the noise kept persisting. You knock again, louder this time. Then louder, and louder till you were practically banging on the door (at this point you had half a mind to just kick it down altogether).

Lucky for you, on the other side of the door, Catarina heard the banging, so she quickly grab Magnus' charango, forcing him to stop. "What was that for?" he demands, which was quickly answered by the excessive door knocking. "I think you might have a neighbor that wants to file a complaint," Catarina informs.

Frowning, Magnus got up and quickly answered his door. He sees you on the other side, looking confused and rather cross. "Well, hello," he pleasantly greets, "And who might you be?" "I'm your neighbor," you deadpan, "I've been living on the floor below you for almost two years now." "Well, I've only been here for six months," Magnus says, "sad people these days don't take the time to know their new neighbors."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," you brush off, "I'm not gonna beat around the bush on this one, but were you the one who was causing that racket not more than ten minutes ago?"

"Racket?" Magnus scoffs, "You, ma'am clearly have no taste in music. I happen to be quite a masterful musician." Catarina snorted at that comment. "I've heard dogs howl at more pleasant intervals," you deadpan, "one of those dogs currently lives in my apartment and even he agrees." "Well what do dogs know of music?" Magnus scoffs again, "perhaps if you hear for yourself in this very room you'll think differently." "Doubtful but okay," you accept and walk inside. 

"May I interest you in a drink while you listen?" Magnus offers, shaker already in his hand. "Uh, lemonade if you have it," you answer, "If I really want to judge this melodious sense of yours in a fair manner, it's best I do it sober. Besides, it's still morning." "Well it's five o'clock somewhere," Magnus shrugs, picking up his instrument, "And not to be overly presumptuous, but as someone who's taste in music is rather narrow, you probably wouldn't be too familiar with this instrument." "It's a charango," you deadpan, "a string instrument whose origins can be traced to the Andes in South America. While most modern charangos are made of wood, it was originally made with the shell of armadillos, which arguably doesn't resonate as good as wooden ones. Also, it typically has ten strings in five of two strings each, but many other variations exist." Magnus was stunned by your explanation, "I took a course on Andean South American history in college," you tell him, "It was written intensive and I aced it." 

"Impressive," Magnus admits, "But it doesn't change my opinion on your taste of music. So sit back, relax, and feel free to get loss in the sounds of the charango." "I look forward to it," you say with sarcasm.

Instrument in hand, the warlock began to play. You weren't sure what you where listening, but you cringed nearly the whole time. Catarina, who was sitting right next to you was mimicking your same facial expressions.

Right in the middle, a strange howling from the floor below forced Magnus to cease his "serenading." "Whatever was that?" Magnus wonders as the howling continued for a few more moments. "That would probably be the sound of my dog protesting this dirge you call music," you answer, "I recognize that howl from anywhere in this building, and it only happens when unpleasant noise invades his sensitive ears." "This is the llamas all over again," Catarina quips in. "This proves nothing," Magnus defends, "clearly the dog down below lacks any sense of melody like the owner." 

"I really want to hear that story about the llamas," you say with some humor, "I bet they spat in protest." "You think you could possibly do better?" Magnus challenges. "Well I took a few lessons in the Spanish guitar in college," you answer, "transitioning to its smaller cousin couldn't be too difficult."
Taking the charango from Magnus' hands, you tune it to your liking. Then you play.

Both warlocks began to look at you as your fingers continue to tame this instrument, even Magnus was impressed by your skills.
"Well what do you think?" you ask. "Well...there were no howling dogs this time around," Catarina answers, which you took as a complement then looks to her friend, "Magnus? Even you can't deny her clearly remarkable talent." Magnus seemed to avert his gaze slightly, "Okay, maybe your taste in music is not as, well tasteless, as I initially judged," the warlock admits. "I'm glad you liked it," you tell him, "and I appreciate the honesty. Now if you'll excuse me, my pup is gonna be scratching at the door soon for his morning walk so I better get going before he makes a mess on my expensive Persian rug again. So, it was nice to meet some neighbors of mine. I hope the next time we see each other it won't be to launch a complaint for any unpleasant sounds that make my dog howl in earsplitting pain."

Right when you were about to open the door, Magnus stops you. You noticed he seemed a little nervous, "do you...would it be possible to...maybe...stop by again sometime this week? So you can play the charango again?" "I don't have one of my own," you tell him, "what if you were to use mine?" he offers. "I'll think about it," you say, "but only if you tell me about the llamas your friend there mentioned."

Magnus smiled in response, "You got yourself a deal," he says, "oh, I almost forgot we haven't been properly introduced. I'm Magnus." "(y/n)," you say back, "I look forward to our next meeting, Magnus."

With that you leave and walk back straight to your apartment, a smile on your own face the whole time.

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