Alexis flashes Eliza a sickly sweet smile. “Yes, some food sounds lovely. And then my dearest friend can explain to me exactly what we’re all doing here.” She turns, a sign with a food symbol catching her eye. “Looks like food’s that way. Let’s go.” She leads the way, and Eliza grimaces before following.
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“Sure.” Fred replied.
He approached a nearby “Mini-Melts” ice cream vending machine, ordering a cup.
my dad used to call it “space ice cream”… he reflected, chuckling at the thought.
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Jeff stays silent, sensing he’d accidentally caused a bit of tension, and follows along. Once there, he gets himself something small from one of the fast food places nearby and sits down to eat, waiting for all of his friends to do the same.
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Zablex orders something light but filling and joins Jeff with his food, a glint of metal barely visible in his long coat as he sits down.
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Eliza follows Alex across the food court, and they rejoin the group a few minutes later, Eliza with a salad and Alex with a steaming plate of something vaguely local-looking. Eliza takes a seat across from Jeff, Alex next to her.
“Sooo, don’t think I caught your name,” she says to Zablex.
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“It’s Zablex.” He said, “My parents are very prominent members of the New York Symphonic Orchestra.”
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“Oh really? That’s impressive.” Fred remarked.
“I sometimes listen to their music in the background during my study sessions.”
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“Really?” Alex asks, taking a bite of food. “So, is that a music name or something? Can’t say I’ve heard anything like it before.”
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Jeff sees it, and considers asking, but decides to put that off for a bit, figuring there were more important things he needed to talk about with them.
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“They’ve been studying other genres of music of late but they still stick with the Orchestra and classical music.” Zablex said before taking a sip of soda, “They taught me almost everything I know about being a musician.” He said with a smile.
“The New York Symphonic Orchestra is one of, if not the, most prominent Orchestral ensembles/groups in New York City.” He told Alex.
OOC: At least, in this fictional universe.
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“Have you played any ‘gigs’ yourself yet?”
“Not many aside from school performances.” He answered.
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“…Actually, yeah, where did your name come from?” Jeff asks, now curious. “It does seem quite…unique.”
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“Who knows, perhaps maybe you’ll see yourself up on the same stage as your parents one day…” he said.
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“Well I know that,” she retorts, rolling her eyes. “I meant your name. Can’t say I run into many 'Zablex’s in our little corner of the midwest.”
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Zablex shrugs, “My parents thought it would be an interesting name.” He said.
He then chuckled, “Maybe they named me that so I had some sort of fun stage name as my real name.”
He looks at Fred, “It would be fun to perform with them.” He agreed.
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“Well, can’t argue with that,” Alex says with a shrug. “What do you play, anyways? Probably cello. You strike me as a cello kind of guy. Or piano; not that you can’t play both. Seems like every kid starts out on piano, at least.”
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“A fair variety including recorder, organ, piano, cello, violin, fiddle, guitar, singing and a few more.” He said, showing an obsidian recorder flute for a moment.
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“Wow, faaancy,” she drawls. “You can practically play the full orchestra by yourself.” Eliza raises an eyebrow at the instrument’s distinctive appearance.
“You sure like your obsidian, don’t you?” Eliza adds.
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Zablex gives a sly chuckle, “It’s a gift.” He said before playing a short tune (the 1812 Overture’s finale melody). The sound was a chirpy tone like someone was playing goblets mixed with a normal recorder flute; a rather unique and pleasant sound.
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