More Funk, Less Classical (Mordred)

[Hinrik]

Hinrik was not excited to have the musicians meeting this week. He sat in his favorite corner of the room, in his favorite chair, which was a bit uncomfortable really. But it was a solid chair. His acoustic guitar was in his lap. He played around with a couple of melodies that had been jumbled up in his head recently. Melodies that felt like home. He wasn’t entirely sure if they were of his own making or if they were someone else’s idea first. Taking someone else’s idea and making it your own wasn’t a new or novel idea though.

“Hey mate,” he said softly as Craig came and sat beside him. Other band members starting filing into the room. Hinrik still strummed gently. “Think we can get Mordred to finally play literally any other music than 70s porn?” he asked.

Craig shook his head. “Nah. He knows what he wants. He won’t budge.” He scratched at some facial hair absent-mindedly. “At this point I think the viewers would riot if we played anything different.”

Hinrik chuckled lightly. “Sometimes I feel like my classical music training has been wasted here.” He quickly tuned a string on his guitar and played a quick, light tune. “I could be playing Bach concertos if that wouldn’t be so boring.”

Craig lifted an eyebrow. “Who’d want to hear you play a Bach Concerto anyway?” he asked.

Hinrik simply smiled and played a tragic melody in lieu of a reply.

Hank, down the other end of the room, shushed everyone. “Alright, everyone, Mordred will be in shortly. Let’s talk music. Ideas?”

Craig raised his hand quickly. “Hinrik has volunteered to play Bach Concertos if time allows.”

Hinrik snorted. “I could, but that’s not really the vibe, so to speak.”

Hank snorted. “No, but it could be a fun interlude during a commercial break.”

(Feel free to come in when ever)

[Mordred Le Fey]

Laying back on the sofa in his dressing room, Mordred slowly opened one eye and looked at the clock, letting out a small groan. Bloody musician's meeting. Mordred wasn't even sure why he had to go to those - the musicians knew what he expected to hear. He was the talent, the reason people tuned in week after week, the reason they all went home with those nice fat pay cheques (his being substantially fatter than anyone else's, of course). But the producers expected him to show, and since it was important the producers at least thought they were in control of the show, he had to throw them a bone every now and then.

Letting out a loud sigh, Mordred pulled himself up off the sofa and reached for the glass of scotch sitting on the glass coffee table, throwing the warm liquid down his throat before standing and straightening his expensive designer suit. Rolling his shoulders, he stretched his neck to each side and sighed again before finally leaving his dressing room and ambling down the corridor towards the meeting room. Hands in his pockets, he smiled and winked at the various staff and interns he passed, most of whom blushed and giggled. Mordred always enjoyed the predictability of that reaction, but it was especially entertaining drawing it from the men.

Reaching the meeting room, he leaned against the doorframe, barely committing to entering the room itself and rolled his eyes as he caught the discussion taking place.

"Only a musician could put Bach and fun in the same sentence and actually sound sincere." He said with a smirk. "This is 'Between the Sheets with Mordred Le Fay', not 'Die of Boredom at Carnegie Hall'."