[@Silvan Haven][@Write][@HereComesTheSnow][@Plank Sinatra]

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It appeared that Luke Schwarz was legitimately interested in understanding more about her preferred genre of music. That was a fascinating turn of events. She leaned back against the balcony railing, arms crossed, but her eyes never left the other teenager, not even when he turned away to stare at the sea. What could be so entrancing about the water she wouldn't know; to her, it was just another fucking aspect of her day-to-day life. An empty expanse of waves and sky.

"[color=66cd00]Well if you're so curious,[/color]" said the stoic Mistralese girl flatly, "[color=66cd00]then allow me to elucidate.[/color]"

There was no detriment in listing those smooth jazz musicians who were reasonably competent and whose works wouldn't be examples of utter mediocrity that could cure even an insomniac elephant. It would likely 'save' Schwarz from being covered with shit, although if he sought it out on his lonesome, she was unlikely to put in the fucking effort to help him in that regard.

"[color=66cd00]Sade if you want vocals, although she's R&B too,[/color]" continued Gratia, gaze not breaking away from Luke's form. "[color=66cd00]Instrumentals? Fucking Armstrong or bust.[/color]"