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[needanewbrain]

Leave a message for Quinn Parsons.

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[superniceone]

Can I bring anything for you?

[needanewbrain]

if there's any blueberry muffins left

[superniceone]

Gustave doesn't bother answering — in part because he still has very little grasp of actual texting etiquette, but mostly because he's just immediately on his way to the dining area to check. He has two muffins wrapped in a napkin when he slips into the music room, scanning to see if he can find her.

[needanewbrain]

She's at the piano, fiddling around with a melody line, occasionally pausing to write in a notebook.

[superniceone]

Gustave is extremely careful not to sneak up on her. There's a gentle clearing of the throat, like he's trying to clear something caught in it, and he approaches from the side. He waits until a pause before he'll ask: "You're a musician?"

[needanewbrain]

She moves to come to the art table, knowing better than to get crumbs near the keys.

"Yeah, uh...do you have gramophones yet, where you come from?"

She's not great at distinguishing period clothes.

[superniceone]

Being strictly from Fantasy Paris probably doesn't help much with the distinction, either. "Yes, we do. They're quite popular, actually."

[needanewbrain]

She peels the paper off her muffin, tearing little bits of the crown off to nibble.

"Yeah. So, I play, but I also write songs, and record them for people to have, basically."