Logs:Tooth and Nail LIVE at the Widows Walk
|Tooth and Nail LIVE at the Widows Walk|
| Dramatis Personae
Brand, Lyd, Isrieal, Tock, Blanche, Dora, Garnet, Lisbeth, Tilo, Long Meg, Rasender, Ting, Sloan, Amadei, Ritter, Jesse, Kilo, Hoax, Veronica, Nikki,Serena, Leslie, Myles, Dayne, Cameron, Cressida, Harrison, Rose
July 08, 2016
Tooth and Nail performs at the Widow's Walk. There are drinks. There is music. There are boobs.
The Widow's Walk
=========> Main Room - The Widow's Walk - Hanging Hills <=========
The Widow's Walk is, as one might expect from its name, a local eatery and bar built in what was once one of the ubiquitous Victorian houses with a widow's walk at the top. This room, however, is the first floor, with a wraparound porch open during the summer, and during the winter, large windows still provide a stunning view of the ocean, dotted here and there with local boats; there is not a single point in this room from which a view of the ocean is not available. Seats away from the window are slightly raised, so even people sitting back by the kitchen have a sightline on the rocky shore below. Quite a bit of thought went into that, most certainly -- far more than seems to have gone into the wall art, a mishmash of nautical accoutrement that might as well have been picked up at a fisherman's retirement yard sale, affixed in a seemingly haphazard fashion to the walls.
In the room's center, a bar juts out toward the windows, with seating on three sides, and tucked into the back left corner, right by the kitchen door, a spiral staircase heads up to the second floor. Seriously -- there's no place in this room where the ocean isn't visible, unless someone's brought down the shades or put the storm shutters in place. It's one of the selling points of the place, surely, in all the tourist brochures.
=====================================================> IC Area - F01 <
The Walk has been changed for the evening, as much as 'management' will allow for frivolity and jovial merrymaking sake, (see sceneset), but the staff is ever the same. Exhaustingly so. They are polite as one would expect, glad to help, but their is a reserved nature about them as they serve that hints that those that work here must certainly all be of the Onxy Court to those that know of such things at least.
Playing hostess with such a cast of workers and heading it up this evening, is none other than the gutterpunk Lyd. For tonight she has actually styled her mohawk up, shaved the sides of her head once more and thrown on some clothing that wasn't stolen just yesterday. Knee high Doc Martens are paired with ripped black sheer stockings, torn denim daisy dukes, a threadbare and cigarette burn ridden black tank top, and a sleeveless denim vest covered in a wealth of punk band patches. She has a bottle of beer in hand as she gives a few last soft words to the bartender.
> Brand to Here <=====================================================
Rolled 2 Successes
< 1 2 2 3 4 4 5 7 7 8 10 >
=================================> Wyrd + Expression + 5 [No Flags] <
> Brand to Here <=====================================================
Rolled 7 Successes for an exceptional success.
< 1 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 6 6 7 8 9 9 10 10 10 10 >
============> Presence + Expression.Live_Performance + 7 [No Flags] <
What's a rock concert without eyeliner and a short neon green dress that looks like it was stolen from the clearance rack of the trashiest store in the mall? Veronica has very little shame, it seems. Bright rainbow hair looks like it's been brushed, at least, and she strides on in with a confident smile. It falters only slightly as she looks around, searching for a face among the crowd that might end up looking familiar. She heads for the bar first, leaning her forearms against the counter as she squints at all the bottles on display.
Blanche slips into the Walk, hesitating a moment because, hey, people! But it doesn't make her flee out the door. No indeed, instead she lifts a hand to Lyd as she slips through the room, finding a nice table off to the side where she can sit down. No doubt alcohol will come later, but not yet. Instead she settles in, to look around at the people. Then will come the drinking and the listening.
Isrieals here in her eyeless, backless mien or her normal lovely Russian beauty form depending on who can see what. She's in her usual attire of a black corset dress, this with pink lacing. She's not a fan of crowds so for now she just has a seat at the bar and orders a drink.
Who's that? Just some skinny dude with a cane who's deeply dedicated to looking like it's 1958, apparently. Who even wear's sunglasses at night? Myles the greaser - go figure. So normal looking, so mundane, just getting a Whole Lot of Scotch at the bar. Music? Yeah, the boring retro nerd is listening; but he's also smoking, and drinking -- a lot.
Leslie has had a very weird, stressful first week back in town and when she saw that a concert was going to blast the roof off some place on a Friday night she said screw it and got dressed up.. or is that down? Whatever.. she made the drive, by herself because friends suck or she has a lack of them right now. What better place to make new friends but at a loud concert where who knows what is going to happen but she walks towards the front door of the place, nearly falling over in the parking lot as her damn sandal tries to kill her. Grace Leslie, grace! Never let them see you face plant in the parking lot. She finally makes it in one piece inside the establishment and scans the place like a female terminator... a cute, dolled up female terminator looking for something to catch her attention.
Only moments after Blanche arrives, Dayne Abernathy soon follows through the doorway. Dipping sideways only slightly in order to pass between the doorframe without brushing his shoulders. Quietly he grumbles to himself and a grimace decorates his features briefly. Quickly it dissipates and a more subdued smile overtakes his face. He follows Blanche until she finds a table and Dayne too settles into a seat in the booth. He squeezes his frame into the narrow seating, grunting as he goes while verbally muttering his complaints, "The hell they make these seats for? Children?", he says as he tries to wiggle into the booth. Giving up, he chooses to stay seated toward the outside of the booth so that he may easily escape it or rise for others to join at the seating. Absently a hand moves to the inside pocket of his light jacket, fishing around the pocket for a moment as though in search of something unseen.
Nikki slips into the bar a flask in hand. She takes a swig from it before putting it away. Her eyes are huge and glossy, and the smell of pot smoke hangs on her. Clinging to her hair and clothing. She drifts toward the bar to find a place to sit down.
"Why, do you need a booster seat?" Lyd offers to Dayne, offering a far too wide cheshire smile as she plops down a glass of whiskey for Blanche. Her bright green eyes, mask strengthened so not even the 'Lings can see her mien, scan the door as each person enters. Yes, be suspect of a visual pat down worthy of Mac from Philly.
Sloan arrives shortly before the band is scheduled to start. He is dressed up in what he thinkg of as high concert fashion. A black t-shirt for a metal band and a pair of jeans. He has his normal boots on his feet. Once inside he heads to the bar first as he looks over the room for a good spot to stand.
"Just not for people quite your size," Blanche whispers with a faint smile to Dayne. Then she gives one to Lyd as well. "Thanks, Lyd. If you get the chance, you're welcome to join us at some point," she whispers to the woman, picking up the glass and sipping.
--= The lights flicker on and off three times. Naturally, the crushed in crowd who have bought tickets at the door shuffle and start to quiet. =--
Slipping into the bar in a crowd to avoid garnering individual attention, Cameron sidles along the outer edges, seeking out a perch that will keep her out of the way, deep in the shadows, but still offer a view of the stage. Compromising, she swipes an empty stool and huddles on it, able to see part of the stage through the crowds. Wincing over the sights, the smells, the sounds, she slips on a pair of sunglasses, tucks some cheap foam earplugs in, and keeps her sleeve up near her nose. Waiting..
Lisbeth is dressed up as her gothy self. And not just her usual artsy bohemian gothy self! This time it's her not-so-usual punky goth self. A black shirt with some red symbol that's cut off just above the belly, black jeans that match her top, and what are probably sneakers are the order of the night. Unlike Blanche she doesn't flinch upon seeing the crowd, instead beaming as if she'd just met an old friend. She was here to party and get drunk.
Well, maybe not get drunk. She could hardly do -that- any more, right?
Sweet Jesus and His Fluffy Ducklings, it's a crowd. Who knew the Walk could hold that many people. Standing room only notwithstanding, Meg shoulders her skinny way vaguely in the direction of the bar, because what's a concert without booze? It's a tougher go than she thought, as the body density increases exponentially the closer she gets to the bar, and she gives it up as a bad job when the lights flicker, stopping in the middle of the crowd and turning to see the stage. The set of her expression suggests that she may be plotting the best way to crowdsurf to the liquor.
Isrieal looks over to Veronica with those hollow eyes of hers as the other Ling' joins her at the bar. Her cheek still rests in her hand and she stirs at her blue tinted drink slowly. She gives her a slight nod of recognition, which in turn causes a few blood tears to spill down her cheeks. "How goes it?" The Russian darkling asks.
After hearing so much about the musician Tilo couldn't help but to come. He's even on early enough to find a seat before the music's began, and plops himself down into a chair that's facing the stage. He's dressed about casually as can be expected in a red polo, khaki slacks, and brown loafers that tap in anticipation for the music to start.
Tock is, as usual, entirely too formal and too vintage for the setting. Her afternoon dress is simple, at least, an empire waist palest purple affair with embroidery of lilac flowers and greenery as the only decoration across the bodice. She lacks a hat and has instead swept her hair back with fresh lilacs freed from their panicles pinned here and there. Her usual jewellery is present in the form of a silver and gold woven metal bracelet at one wrist and a locket bearing a stylised alternating current symbol on its front clasped at her throat by a plain purple satin ribbon. Her modest heels click steadily across the floor as she enters the room slowly, looking about in the way of one taking in truly novel surroundings. Tock smiles and waves at Lyd, since she is there staring at people coming in, after all. Then lights are flickering and it seems a good plan to skirt a side of the room to find a seat.
"Hell, you got one?", Dayne asks with an upward glance to Lyd after she arrives to drop the glass of whiskey down before Blanche. The brief pause is quickly followed by, "Just a tight fit, don't mind me," he says with a glance down to the table. He eyes it for a moment, seemingly suspicious of it as he quietly mutters a remark to Blanche, "I'm seriously afraid this thing is going to unbolt and the weight pressing against it is going to cause it to fly off and kill someone..like cutting a band on coiled wire," he says with a slow shrug. Back straight, stomach sucked in, and both hands rest atop the table. Dayne Abernathy seems to be in a battle of wills with the table. Then he spots Myles, the cane, and the manner. Whom becomes the new focus of Dayne's unwavering stare, though the flickering lights quickly distract the brutish man from Myles.
Nikki looks as the lights flicker on and off. She finds herself a place to perch quickly. Drinking from her flask as she waits for the band to start playing.
Leslie just manages to squeeze her way to the bar herself. It pays to be short and thin! WHOOT!
"Wait until all the groupies rush the stage," comes a voice just behind Meg. Dora is, of course, dressed up for the occasion appropriately: black tank top, a short denim skirt, and black leather boots that come up to mid-thigh. She's even spiked up her short red hair into a wild mop atop her head. Her grin is impish as she offers her suggestion for dealing with the bar, then gives a look around as the lights flicker, noting people here and there -- just in time to watch Tock slide around and look for a seat. She grins a little more, noting where the too-formally-dressed woman ends up, but she stays put at least for the moment.
Myles the boring greaser sniffs a bit -- is... He crying? Just a tear. Must be allergies. You know what the best medicine for that is? More scotch, more smoking. Scotch topped off, he finally starts to move - pushing though the crowd with astonishing slowness; although some people move out of the way for the man with the cane. *Some*. Not everyone. It's a fight not to drop his drink, or burn anybody with a rogue cigarette. But he's heading towards Blanche, Lyd and Dayne... Slowly.
It isn't so much staring, as keeping an eye on things as a proper Winter does in their own grounds. Lyd's glances aren't prying or rude, just observatory and taking mental notes. A wave is given to Tock paired with a kind smile before she turns her attention back to Dayne to drawl, "Yes, darling. Of course I do. This is a family establishment after all." Just don't mind the rock show. "Need anything? Just flag one of mine down." she offers to Dayne and then Myles.
Cobalt Rasender and the members of Mired make their way in ??? amazingly, not late ??? some of them, anyway, as the whole five piece isn???t here tonight. Rasender???s brought the lead guitarist, Gust, Gust???s girlfriend, and the drummer, Jamie. Though they???ve yet to play in Fallcoast, Mired are another rock band, easily as famous as Tooth and Nail. In fact, they???ve even played on a few of the same tours. But they have a bad reputation, and the lead singer is known to have a bad attitude. Names are checked at the door, and all of them are given lanyards. They proceed to push through the crowd towards the sectioned-off backstage area, out on the porch, literally pushing people out of the way if need be. Particularly Rasender, who is big and glowering and no one to be trifled with. A few fans recognize them on the way in and freak out. Everyone loves when rock stars come out to support other rock stars, right? Right.
It's not until she has a drink in hand that Veronica turns to fully peer at Isrieal in return. With a beer pressed to her lips, she looks over the rim of her glass a little longer at the woman's mien that is probably polite. "...Hey," she greets, a bit belatedly so. "Got a drink, so won't complain," she adds, flashing the pale changeling a lopsided smile. "You?" While the question is asked, she leans an elbow up onto the bar counter and steals the quickest of glances toward the front entrance.
------------= BAND POSE =--------------
The lights turn out.
As they often do at concerts.
This means that the shit is about to hit the fan.
With the initial 'WOO'ing from the audience, three figures walk in from the outside of Widow's Walk, two male and one female. Instruments are collected, and the shaved-headed drummer takes his seat in the back with his kit and the traditional double-bass kick as he welcomes his kit. The svelte, cutoff-shorts wearing bass player steps up to a microphone stand on stage left and shrugs her ponytail away from her face. The shadows on stage seem to take a final breath before the bass drum begins to kick three times and...
Bass. Guitar. Drums. They all sound at the same time in a sudden rush that sets the floorboards rumbling and sound growling out through the windows and over the cliffs in the distance. The note sustains until the guitarist begins to run his fingers up and down the neck of his guitar, playing the introduction to THRONE OF ECHOES. The standing-room only crowd tightens and creeps forward into a pinch as the bass guitar joins the introduction. The guitarists stand in their best, slinked-back rock posture. Fingers flash over bass strings, and the heavy amps at the front of the stage come alive.
A shadow slips into the room from the back door, and the crowd knows who he is; their cheering admits so. Brand Walker, wearing a leather vest and expensive leather stage-gear provided by Wornstar Clothing(tm) tugs his black beanie hat down over his eyebrows and his newly cut, chin-length hair. His guitar dangles from his shoulders in a vaguely sexual way as he walks out to the center microphone and extends his hands out towards the audience, fists pointed towards the crowd in greeting. His fists turn over and his fingers flap them closer to the stage, beckoning them closer.
And somewhere, it seems that shadow of Brand Walker can't help but smirk, because he's feeling it, tonight. He can feel it all seeping into his pores and out.
He reaches down for his guitar, and all at once, the stage is backlit by violet lighting that captures the details of the performers. The introduction to the song ends and Brand Walker begins to play with the rest of Tooth and Nail. His tattooed arms and strange scars near his shoulder flex as he steps up to the mic and begins the first words of the radio-played single about bitter, angry relationships and finding the strength to move on...
"Tell me how it feels to be a lie..."
"Tell me do you know that I won't ever beg or break; you can't deny..."
------------= END BAND POSE =--------------
Sloan orders a pitcher of beer when he reaches the bar. He declines a glass and takes a drink directly from the pitcher then was the bad come on stage he lets out a cheer, as they start to play he applauds but sadly the pitcher is still in his hands so a bit of the beer from it spills out.
Isrieals used to the discomfort and stares really, its no big deal. "I suppose I have nothing to complain about at the moment." She says with a smirk and takes a sip of her drink, that ripples with the first hit of bass from the band. She tips her head towards the stage to watch for a moment. "I don't think we've met. I'm Isrieal." Her court is obviously Autumn with all those leaves billowing around her and vanishing again.
Amadei decides to trifle: having come in at some point and managed, somehow, to avoid notice despite being Yet Another Rock Star -- no entourage, just sunglasses and a mild smile -- he slides through the crowd and up to Rasender's side. "Long time, no see," he remarks, just loud enough over the music to be heard by his target.
Tock manages to slip her way around and through thinner parts of the crowd by virtue of being tiny, for the most part, and ends up at Tilo's mostly empty table. She gives a little greeting wave to the fellow she had only recently met. ???Mind if I steal a seat by you???? she asks, just before Brand makes his grand entrance.
"COCKnugget!" Meg yells, startled, at the voice just behind her ear. It's short-lived (recognition sets in quickly) but there it was: Dora managed to spook the Margrave. "They have groupies? Fantastic." At least she recovers quickly? She half-turns to give Dora a crooked grin, a little too much tooth showing. "More for the heckling." She appears about to say something more, but the lights go out, and the crowd's noise goes up, and the band appears and... the concert begins, per time-honored tradition. Over the guitar/drums/base, Meg gestures to Dora and mouths, -get a drink for both of us, yeah? Points at the bar, and starts nudging her way thattaway again.
"We probably haven't. Just got back to town," Veronica admits to Isrieal, her tone on the chipper end of the spectrum. What a Spring. "I'm Veronica. Nice to meet you. You watch them much?" she wonders, gesturing toward the band on stage with a flutter of her fingers. As the music thrums up, she subtly bobs her head to the rhythm and watches with a small smile.
Leslie kind of taps her foot to the beat. She's never heard this band before but it was a live band and something to do on a Friday so here she was. She really liked what she was hearing so far. Her feet tapping continued with a little more force and her head started to nod to the tempo. Okay, she was really liking it. The guitar play was wicked nice and the lyrics were catchy. She was thankful this wasn't one of those bands that screams so loud you can't understand shit they are singing. This was just right for her and about as hard as she liked to get.
Isrieal looks back to Veronica. "I performed with him once, this is the first time I've actually sat down and watched." She chuckles a bit. "I'm not a huge fan of crowds but I guess a little bit of time isn't going to kill me. Is this your first?"
Dora laughs much too brightly at Meg's reaction, eyes sparkling. "It's Brand; I'd be shocked if they didn't." Then the band is there, and Dora sticks two fingers in her mouth and whistles sharply; let the venue be stodgy, she's here for the rock show. At the nudge, she looks back toward Meg, then toward the bar, and gives a quick, vigorous nodding.
------------= BAND POSE =--------------
Maybe heavier than rock? Somewhere beneath metal? There's enough guitar soloing and headbanging from the two other guitarists on the stage while Brand is singing to claim their rock credentials. The band is in sync perfectly, and Brand's voice is pristine alongside backing vocals from the female bassist. Calling out the lyrics to the crowd, Brand takes time in the break before the solo to reach out and slap hands with the audience members.
With a turn, he steps away from the microphone to play, guitars facing each other with the lead guitarist, who belts out a solo. Growling a toothy smile with a 'oh hell yeah' of a head nod to the man, Brand feigns a smile and steps back to the microphone to finish the rest of the song.
And once the band is done with their first song, they leap directly into the next, saying hello to the audience in a two-song medley with only a few seconds in between. It's the lead track off of their FIRST album, 'BEFORE THE DEVIL KNOWS YOU'RE DEAD'.
------------= END BAND POSE =--------------
Rasender's almost made it to the back when Amadei sidles up to him. And yeah, go figure, the big hulking rock star looks surprised to see Yet Another One. "Amadei? Holy shit, dude," and he actually throws his arms around the pale-haired guy, giving him a bear hug. "Long time no see, huh?" The rest of Mired and co. head into the backstage area, i.e. the porch, leaving Cobalt out here on his own. "How the fuck you been?"
Busy as she at the bar, the lights going out (Never mind the) sound of the bass, guitar, and drums, kicking up almost makes Lisbeth jump. Pity. She almost liked the dark better than the noisy, bright room that had been there before. Of course there's music playing. And Lisbeth's peculiar traits just -can't- let that go. She goes from ordering a drink and turning to a nearby patron to make a joke to turning on a swivel to watch the band, enraptured. For once Brand has -her- enthralled. If only she knew the name of the album, it might make her smile at the irony of it.
Blanche focuses on Myles, even with Brand being...Brand. She doesn't speak to her companions at the moment, just lifts her glass for another sip, before her cigarettes come out and one is lit, the others offered one as well. Only then does her gaze shift over to Brand, and her lips curve a little.
It isn't stodgy by any means, given the view it allows from all vantage points, but the Walk is made lively by the band and Brand's appearance. The crowd is lively, the staff polite and gracious, even to those that seem to have imbibed too much in the bottle or their own selves.
Dayne, tucked away within the Abernathy-claimed booth, seems to be focused on staring at Brand and the entire show being put on. However his hands? They aren't so idle. Digging around in pockets, making motions to his face and then suddenly seeming much more alert and generally wide-eyed, he seems to nudge at a nearby Myles with steady, persistent elbows and an offering.
Dora's prediction was right; when the band starts playing, particularly when Brand starts singing, a solid chunk of the audience pushes for the stage, and it eases the congestion in the other direction. Ie: the bar. Meg makes for /that/, and manages to belly up after a few judiciously jabbed elbows clear a path. "Yuengling!" she yells over the music and the cheering and the whistling and the general noise. She glances over her shoulder at Dora, considers a moment, then follows up to the bartender with, "and a vokda painkiller!"
Amadei hugs Rasender back, practically engulfed by the big man, and he's smiling warmly when they draw back. "I'm all right. Been working on new material, getting a new studio set up. And you?" Sure, the conversation is more like shouting in Rasender's ear, but whatever; he seems genuinely happy to see Cobalt, and minded to keep him company. "I missed you."
Sloan takes a long drink form the pitcher and then sets it on the bar behind him.As he listens ot the music he starts to do a bit of slolo dancing there att the bar as he watches the performance.
Myles is... Enamoured, if his expression is anything to tell - even with his cool dude sunglasses on, his expression is as plain as the nose on his unremarkable little face. As Dayne nudges him, he takes something from him without looking, entranced by the stage. Fist curled now, he continues watching silently.
Lyd is sitting on the table rather than on a chair at it, swinging her tiny legs back and forth with a bright and impish smile curling her lips, the black lipstick already slight smudged from her beer bottle. Every now and again she tilts her ear towards what is being said at her table, nodding here and there.
Yep. Shouting. That's what trying to have a conversation at a concert is all about. "Oh yeah? That's awesome!" Rasender, not a cheerful person by anyone's definition, actually smiles around Amadei. It's a miracle. "I missed you too, man. Glad you're back around." His phone buzzes in his pocket and he looks down at it, then taps something into it. "Hey, you got a backstage pass? My special guest just got here, I gotta go get her one." He nods for Amadei to follow him, if he wants, as Rasender starts pushing back through the crowd to the front again.
"Oh! So you perform too? Rad," Veronica's eyes go a bit wide as she gives Isrieal a surprised look. "Crowds make some things easier and some things harder. It's a love-hate thing for me, personally." There's a pause as she takes a swig of her drink, fingers curling tighter around her glass. "First one for this band, yup. Been way too bloody long since I've been to a good show." Fingers push down at the hem of her dress, as if she can will the hem to be longer by sheer persistence. Thankfully, she's relatively short anyway. "So do you play, sing, both?"
Leslie grinned as she danced there against the bar, trying to look like she fit in but she stuck out given everyone's dark goth clothing or just darker tones in general. Here she was in bright white, covered in blood red flower patterns. Ah well.. make a bold statement or go home bitches. "Okay, I'll have to pick up an album or two methinks," she says to no one in particular.
Amadei follows Rasender agreeably!
------------= BAND POSE =--------------
At the end of the second song, the floorboards have creaked enough and the band has gone two in a row. Guitar solos, chain wallets, the band is coming into the height of their craft, moving around each other with wireless systems on their guitars and marking their cues on stage; it's a thing that gets practiced, really. A show is...not just music. It's a performance.
The purple lighting softens into a yellow glow and Brand turns to the microphone and surveys the audience. The pop-filter at the end of the microphone doesn't hide the quiet, almost peaceful smirk from the man as he holds out a hand to the crowd. There's a little, breathy giggle into the microphone that is captured well over the speakers.
"Holy...." Brand grins to the crowd below him, his one-night-stand of a flock. "...shit." That giggle comes again and he stretches back, smiling darkly to the audience, catching his tongue in his teeth when he points to Tock in the back and presses his hand over his heart. "You guys are /fucking/ unbelievable." Brand bares his teeth.
"We put out a new album today, and before we start this next song. We just wanted to give a big thank you, because it is YOU that /FUCKING/ made this possible. Fallcoast. Not Los Angeles. Not New York. Fallcoast." Brand growls out over the crowd, curling his fingers into a fist. "We love you fucking animals."
------------= END BAND POSE =--------------
Isrieal smiles some to Veronica. "I do, did." She corrects. "I haven't in nearly a year. I don't really want the RockStar life but I'll do small things every now and then. I sing." She tells her. "Have one CD and some mixes." She shrugs some. "My highlight was a couple years back really, I like relaxing in Fallcoast though."
Leslie screams our a cheer and claps.
Oh look, there's a band! Ting is one of many, dozens, hundreds, thousands? perhaps all cramming into the venue with the intent to brush elbows with musical royalty. Truth be told, while she loves music, she does not have the lipsyncing looks of a die hard fan, no, but she is grinning and claps when others do. Between wide-eyed stares given to... everything, she is texting and trying to see over the heads in the crowd to find one particularly tall person. Having been told to stay put, the girl with pale red hair does just that. The surge of fans push her a bit forward, and one guy knocks into her and nearly spins her around. "Ow," she whispers, gripping her shoulder gingerly. Then that guy up there says he loves everyone and bodies seethe excitedly. This means a few drinks fly, but is vodka-scented hair all that bad?
Sloan hears the comment from Leslie about getting an album and replys, "their early albums are the best." granted he does not actually knwo that but it is the standard for most bands so he says it with confidence.
Dora loses sight of Meg as she heads for the bar -- which is probably expected, as then the band starts up and all her attention goes that way anyway. She doesn't join the mad rush toward the front, but she does join in the dancing, throwing her whole body into it during that first song, twirling in those huge boots of hers as if they were dainty little slippers. She screams out her own cheer when Brand addresses the crowd. "Damn RIGHT you do!" she calls back, a huge grin on her face.
"Fuck New York!" Veronica whistles loudly, having some anger toward that particular locale apparently. "...Yeah Fallcoast!" she follows up a beat later, throwing up a set of horns with her fingers. Clapping loudly for the band, she turns to level Isrieal with another smile. "That's cool. Gotta do what makes you happy, all that matters."
Rasender makes it back to the front, towards the girl with the pale red hair. Then he catches her up in his arms and gives her a gigantic squeeze. "You made it!" Well, someone's in a good mood, for now. Cobalt kisses Ting just on the side of her mouth and pulls back to present her to Amadei. "Amadei, Ting. Ting, Amadei." He doesn't expect them to know each other. Do they? Another backstage pass is collected and the lanyard placed around Ting's fragile neck.
Myles watches from his table - did he just, wipe away a tear from under his tinted glasses? Brand's good, but is he -that- good? Aside from a quick look around the club, he watches the stage with the keenest of observation.
Long Meg manages to thread her way back through the crowd once her drink order is filled and paid for. It takes her a minute to find Dora again, concert audiences obeying Brownian motion as they do, but she finally zeroes in and manages to shove her way back into orbit. "This," she says over the cheering, "is a fucking /amazing/ drink I had once in Atlanta."
Isrieals not a screamer, in cases like these at least. She'll let everyone else shout but she's not about to attempt to shout across the crowds. Her voice would most likely get lost somewhere along the way. She takes a long drink. "It is!" She agrees with Veronica then chuckles some. "Bad times in New York?"
Amadei smiles amiably at Ting when they're introduced. "Oh," he remarks, as if something were suddenly explained. "No wonder. Hello."
"This is a level of volume that I usually associate with aircraft," the mechanic jokes as she settles into a chair, tone more impressed than anything. Tock smiles at Brand's attentions, returning them with a playfully-blown kiss. She glances around again, just taking in the sheer /people/ making up the room.
Leslie turned to look at the guy talking to her and offered up one of her award winning smiles. "Oh yeah? Which ones are their first albums? Which one do you think is the best? Let's get the best, to hell with the rest right?"
Lyd has been to her share of shows. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. She doesn't seem moved to bum rush the stage, twirl and dance, or be the loudest one in the room. She just has a shit-eating grin and is clearly enjoying herself rather openly. Patting herself down she procures a cigarette from somewhere, lighting it with a Zippon emblazoned with Bettie Page and Marilyn Monroe in what can only be described as a lecherous and precarious position. The cigarette flares to life and she snaps the zippo shut, sticking it back in her front pocket. On the exhale she blows a smoke ring, "I heard no disdain for San Franpsycho." A peal of laughter, ringing like bells in the valley.
Myles is sitting at a table with Lyd, Blanche and Dayne - looking so commonplace, just a devoted Americana nerd, skinny Greaser. He is watching the stage through tinted glasses, expression rather enamoured with the proceedings on the stage. Is there a drink in front of him? Yes. Scotch.
Sloan nods to Leslie, "Not a bad philosophy, I think thier first album was called something like, Before the Devil Knows you are Dead, like the line from th blessing." He shrugs a bit, "So that would be hte one I started with."
"Totally. We don't get along. Oil and water, something something. Too many buildings, made me feel claustrophobic. I'd have to get paid big bucks to go back," Veronica explains to Isrieal, leaning in an unladylike manner against the bar counter. "And by big bucks I mean, like, paid at all. I might go back if I got paid for something, anything. I'm actually kinda cheap," she muses. Beer drained, she slides the empty glass across the counter and flutters her lashes hopefully at the bartender for a refill.
------------= BAND POSE =--------------
"You're /GOD-Damned/ right do, baby." Brand apparently heard Dora through the cheering. "But just in case that guy puts it on YouTube, we love New York." Brand laughs and points down to a guy in the crowd, fingers flipping around to devil's horn. "Purple goatee guy, damn, what's up?" Brand recognizes the local, and then turns back to the microphone.
"Alright, this next one's named after a drink brainstormed up by the long, departed Dimebag Darrell. Double of Seagram Seven, Double of Crown Royal, splash of Coke, and I'm sure the good, overworked people at the bar will be happy to make one for you." Brand points to the bar, then reaches down for his guitar and steps back up to singing point. Already, the lead guitarist is moving a slide over the neck of the guitar.
"This is Black-Toothed Grin."
------------= END BAND POSE =--------------
Harrison makes his way into the concert, the well-known local detective looking around with a smile on his face. He does seem a bit out of place, dressed as he is in quite stylish clubwear... clearly bespoke tailored (typical of a Cavanaugh) but with a gold Fallcoast Police Department Detective badge evident at his waist. He makes his way to the bar, gesturing to the barkeep for a tonic water and lime. Ooooooh. Maybe he's on duty.
Accompanied by the trio at the table with himself, Dayne seems to be having a little bit of an issue. Beefy hands swatting at the air, at what appears to be nothing. Eyes wide, jaw clenched tightly, and a look of concentration etched into his blocky features. He swats the air once, twice, and then pauses...seems to relax..then goes back to searching for what seems to be some pest or nuisance buzzing around his head and shoulders.
Leslie nodded to Sloan with a smile. "Noted!" she said enthusiastatically before turning to the bar keeper. "
Leslie nodded to Sloan with a smile. "Noted!" she said enthusiastically before turning to the bar keeper. "I'll have one of those things the band mentioned!"
Isrieal nods. "Yeah, I can imagine with all those buildings. I definitely need some nature around. Woods." She watches Veronica fluter her lashes then glances towards Harrison and the few other people now seated at the bar. She fishes in her upper boot for a moment and tosses her card onto the counter. "Here, anyones tabs can just go on here tonight."
Hug, kiss, giddiness, the vibe in the room is truly infectious. No, Ting doesn't know Amadei, and yet, yeah, she knows him. What she observes when she smiles toward him after introductions is someone she could, should, and likely will know soon enough. A hand is raised and she waves it in a friendly manner just as the backstage pass is going around her neck. She lifts it up and examines it. "Hi," the now-absent-minded greeting for the lovely pale bloke. "Oh... what's this? Backstage? We get to meet the band?" She has no clue whatsoever what a treat that is - the kind people would pay top dollar for, or do unspeakable things for. It is So Fucking Loud in here. She is bumped up against Cobalt and glances back at the trio of girls rushing toward the stage. Good luck, girls!
Dora twists her attention curiously back to Meg as she emerges from the crowd -- and with booze! "Well, if it was amazing, I definitely have to try it now," she says with a grin, taking the glass with a little nod of thanks before taking a sip. Her eyes light up a bit as she does, grin even bigger now. "Oh, that /is/ good. What's it called?" But then Brand's almost answering her up on the stage, and that deserves another 'Wooo!' and a laugh. As the new song starts up, she starts to dance again -- thougha little more carefully, since she's got one hand full. About halfway through the song, in fact, she leans in toward Meg and shouts right next to her ear, "Hey, you wanna hover near one of the tables? Safe place to put our drinks as we need?"
Better late than never? That seems to be Cressida's life-motto. The dirty hippy saunters into the crowded bar, her forward progress momentarily halted by a wall of people. She steps into a patch of light that seems to catch her blonde hair /just/ right and the girl glows, man. GLOWS. Of course, the Changelings here know why -- stars gotta twinkle -- but even non-Fae eyes are catching her shine. She hops a few time, bouncing up to look over the sea of folks to spot any familiar faces. Boing! Boing! Boing!
Sloan picks up his pitcher for another drink and he calls over to Leslue, "Let me know if it is any good." He then goes back ot his litlte bit of solo dancing.
"You goin' backstage?" Rasender shouts to Amadei. Hell, he's a famous musician too, maybe he can get a pass. Or Cobalt will just grab one off one of his Mired guys. "It's the porch -- " and he points to it before letting his big arm fall around Ting's shoulder. "We should go out there. Yeah, we'll meet the band, Ting," he adds, smiling down at her. "And it's less full of all these fucking cattle trying to rub their crotches in Brand's face. YOU SUCK BRAND!" he suddenly shouts, saluting the man with a pair of horns in the way only one rock musician could to another. In other words, it's not intended as an insult.
"It's called a painkiller," Meg replies, loudly, to Dora. "Because if you take two of these you won't feel a thing." She erupts into peals of slightly-unsettling laughter at this, and nods. "Let's find a table and colonize," she affirms, and starts making her way back through the crowd again, this time toward the wall where the booths have been left intact.
Harrison puts his card on the bar, as well, although the barkeep doesn't take his card, saying, "No charge, officer." Harrison winks at the man, and pulls out a twenty, dropping it on the bartop for a tip. He looks around, not recognizing anyone nearby at the bar, but certainly taking each person in - in turn.
Blanche smiles when she catches sight of the glow that is Cressida and lifts a hand to attract the hippy's attention. But otherwise she simply sips at her drink and puffs on her cigarette and, of course, listens to Brand!
Lyd is up like a shot at something said at her table, the tiny waif winding her way through the crowd in no time flat to procure a couple drams of whiskey to return to her table with. One for Blanche, Dayne, Myles and herself. Hell, even another one for good measure. As her Motley mate enters, (Motley Crue <3), Lyd plants a kiss on Cressida's cheek and gestures to her table as silent invitation to join the throng.
Amadei nods to Rasender, and then follows his movement and gaze to wave at Brand, too. "We should probably all meet together at some point anyway, there's too much talent here not to take advantage of it."
Cressida sits down at a table. (#6).
Leslie laughed with a nod and said, "If I can think straight after taking all that booze down. I am not the biggest drinker but it's a celebration tonight." She looked around at the sound of 'No Charge, officer'. Damn was the 5-0 already in the house!? She was innocent but when she looked she recognized the man from the university. She hadn't met him but she knew who he was already because students like to talk and so do staff in the break room. "Professor Harrison? Oh wow! They'll let anyone in here!" she chuckled playfully.
"DIPPY!" Veronica can be loud when she wants to be, which is often, and her voice raises just for Cressida as the woman arrives. She's standing by the bar in a neon green dress. Describing it as 'tacky' would be kind. "Dude! You rock," is her exclamation for Isrieal as drinks are suddenly paid for! She looks as if a weight has slid right off her shoulders as she falls into happiness and booze. Her new beer is picked up with a smile for the pale changeling. Everything is grand until she hears the bartender greet Harrison with 'officer'. Her eyes go wide and she just... freezes, right there, as if uncertain whether she should move or not.
Whatever it was that Dayne Abernathy had been trying to swat out of the sky seems to have taken a new path. The bulk of the man pries himself free of the booth seating, climbs to his feet quickly, and begins to quickly slap at his torso as though attempting to get some sort of insect or other fear-inducing creature out from under his clothing. He dances from foot to foot, twisting and turning with a look of fear written on his features as he tries to twist his way out of his jacket. Growling, grumbling, and grunting as he moves around trying to get whatever it was off of himself - all the while worriedly muttering at himself, "oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,". Most of the sound at least covered up by the music and more than likely he were attempting to dance - poorly.
------------= BAND POSE =--------------
The song is a high-tempo rock tune, very highway music, with all of the dual-leads and guitar solos one might expect from such a song. Brand stays near the microphone while he must, leaning back to make room for his guitar as he sings into the front and side of it, catching glances back to the rest of the band. Sweat begins to form and the standing room only atmosphere only serves to heat the room up a little bit more. It's a fast song, but it's a sad song: More regret and bittersweet lyrics to go along with a flashy, charismatic musician.
Who'd have thought?
When the song comes to an end, the drummer begins a harder, more metal-sounding tempo with his drums and Brand steps back to the mic. His arms extend out in fists over the crowd and he grows just a little bit taller, presence-wise. "OOooohhhhhh the new album got /crunchier/, didn't it?" Brand coos to the audience, eyes sweeping pointedly over Amadei and Cobalt Rasender, then over to Lyd, who gets a curl of his lip and a nod of his head. "Last year was harder than the last. We're not /fuckin'/ around this year." Brand growls as the lead starts in and he begins to strum with the palm-muting.
The band launches into a track off their new album: Coil
------------= END BAND POSE =--------------
Dora grins broadly at Meg, then turns to scan the tables as well before wading through the crowd; the stage may be acting like a gravity well, but that doesn't mean it's easy to get around the rest of the place still especially as the fashionably late start arriving. She grins suddenly then, and leads the way straight for Tock and Tilo's table. "Hey you two. You don't mind if Meg and I take shameless advantage of table space for our drinks, and hang out nearby, do you?"
Harrison, being a rather popular professor (mainly because he talks about real world things, rather than just philosophy), is not surprised at being recognized. Instead, he can't help but grin at Leslie, saying, "Well, it's true... I'm probably the oldest one here, but I'm young at heart..." He offers his hand to Leslie, saying, "I don't believe we've met... are you a student?" And then, spotting Veronica's freeze - he IS a detective, after all... he notices thing - he leans back towards her and says softly, "I'm major crimes, not vice... enjoy your drink. I don't see anything."
"Not a problem, enjoy yourselves." Isrial tells Verconica and the people at the bar, then she's eyeing Harrion with that piercing gaze when Veronica freezes. "See? He's here, off duty. No need to worry about him, yea? Right?" Her voice dips harsher with that right, directing it straight at the cop. "No ones going to bother you tonight." She tells Veronica. Not with miss spooky around to scare any badies away.
Myles looks low-key startled as Dayne starts, er, moshing around - yeah, moshing, sure. A quick glance is given to Lyd, as if he thinks she'll have something to comment on that particular style of dance in the Walk. Isn't this a safe space venue?
Serena steps out from the crowd instead of the entrance, as if she had just been blending into the entire time. She simply doesn't become apparent until now but it would've been easy to miss her either way in this throng of people. The dark-haired woman has a tumbler glass in hand and a faintly exhausted look on her face as her gaze sweeps along the crowd. Serena is clad in black, wearing a shear, form-fitting black top with a dark tanktop underneath and a mini-skirt with a pair of heels. She easily navigates through the crowd, making it seem like they're not there as her distant eyes look past them to focus on a table with easily recognizable faces and family members. Everything else, from the ambient noise to the writhing masses of enrapturd fans around her, are drowned out in favor of the band. "Ah, the sound of a cheering crowd...," Serena says in a nostalgic tone toward the gathered group at the table, head nodding to the thrumming beat of the music as she slips into a chair near Myles and Blanche. The recently returned Abernathy finally looks to the stage, now able to see it much easier from this vantage point, and just watches Brand in his element.
Amadei is famous too? Ting is now looking between Cobalt, that Brand guy on stage, and Amadei. Small world. She smiles innocently, a bit confused. A member of the Lost not 'getting it?' Imagine that. When the porch is pointed out, the waterborn nods and wraps both arms around the Mired rocker - he is an infinitely better crowd-splitter than she could ever be. "Someone spilled a drink on my hair," she shouts up to him. She may or may not smell like a screwdriver. The crowd is beginning to get to her, only because her feet have been stepped on a half dozen times now. She points toward the porch and lifts her chin that way. Want to go, want to go.
Sloan seems to enjoy the harder music more then the previous songs. He gets a bit mroe active with the dance as he turns his attention back to his pitcher. After a long drin kand wiping a bit of over splach from his face he asks Leslie, 'What are you celebrating?"
Tock smiles brightly upon seeing Dora, waving enthusiastically. She bounces up to supply hugs, which conveniently put her close enough to actually be heard when she speaks. ???Of course! Why would I mind that? I wasn't sure I would find anyone in this crowd...??? Pressing up onto her tiptoes, the much shorter girl reaches up to pat lightly at Dora's hair. ???You're all spiky!??? She is full of obvious observations that sound relatively impressed this evening.
"Talent, is that what we're calling Tooth and Nail these days?" Rasender smirks to Amadei, though, clearly meaning it in jest. The hazing, it's all part of the show, the one that goes on off-stage as well as on. "Yeah, maybe. Not a bad idea. Fallcoast music festival?" He starts pulling Ting towards the back porch, saying to her, "If anyone does that again, point them out and I'll punch them in the face!" She probably won't go for that idea, but he can try...
There's people! There's people she knows! Blanche is a'wavin', Lyd is a'kissin' and Veronica is a'hollerin'! "WHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Cressida shouts back at the girl situated at the bar, throwing her hands in the air like she just don't care -- whatever that means. She makes her way to the table where a small pack of Abernathys are sitting and plops herself down in a seat there. One of them -- Dayne, the BIG one -- jumps up at almost that exact some moment and starts doing .. she doesn't even know what. Dancing? Let's go with dancing. The glowing woman just blinks at him with a dopey smile hooked on her lips and then leans in, murmuring something to the people at the table.
Leslie took the hand and smiled over Harrison's shoulder at Verconica as she's let off the hook. She mouthed the words 'Winning' to the other then focused her attention back on Harrison by the time he was looking back at Leslie. "Nope. I am done with that torture for now. I have started a new torture. I am the newest science TA. I'm Leslie. It's nice to meet a fellow college comrade in arms," she smiled then looked at Sloan and said in the next beat, "I'm back home from college with a degree in awesome! Got employed over at the university and also get my other business set up and running. I'm home to stay!"
Amadei smirks, and then lets Rasender part the crowd for the three of them, sidling behind him so that he can wander forward in the much bigger man's wake. He waves to Myles in passing, and seems relieved that the greaser is well enough to be out at a concert.
Long Meg follows in Dora's wake, shamelessly taking advantage of the split in the crowd before it closes again. The spindly Darkling eases up to the table and hovers just to the side, half-paying attention to the band, half participating in the tableside conversation. "I didn't think this place would hold so many people," she offers sidelong. "I wonder if we cram four more bodies in if the walls will actually buckle." Her tone says she's considering trying it.
Veronica is distinctly uncomfortable and it's so very, very obvious by her posture and the tension in her limbs and the way her fingers around her glass start to twitch. As Harrison speaks to her, she turns her head very, very slowly and offers what just might be the most awkward smile she's ever given. "I don't know what you're talking about. Cheers." Her drink is raised, an attempt at a casual gesture, but skittish laughter punctuates her words. "All goooood," she bobs her head to Isrieal, and immediately chugs what's left of her beer. If anything will help her nerves at this moment, it's intoxication. A smile returns to her face as she hears Cressida across the way, and a wave is flung in her general direction. As for Leslie, the woman's mouthed words make her nose crinkle in mild amusement. With a friendly nod, she swivels to look back toward the stage, watching Brand and the crew rock it out.
Lyd turns her glance towards Dayne as he starts dancing, making sure no one is injured or the furniture for that matter. Someone mentions punching someone in the face and her sharp, unnerving eyes snap in that direction too to check on things. Nothing is nearing conflict too dire yet, so she is fine for the time being.
------------= BAND POSE =--------------
Brand would /love/ to headbang in between his singing, he really would. The black beanie cap on his head covering what was once long, streaming hair really just doesn't make it marketable. He's getting a little sweaty, though, around the neck. The lead singer drops into a power stance to power-chord and sing his way through the song, trying on a new /roar/ over the mic that isn't present on much of his old music.
The song comes to an end and Brand steps back, making room for the bass player to take the center of the stage. She struts her way into place and a new song begins, POISON FOR THE SWEET, from their first album. It's a song Brand doesn't sing on, but it gives him precious time to step forward and play with the audience. While he walks, he points towards Serena, off to the side, and winks her way. The 'Ooooo' from the bass player is already delving into a sweeter tone. The whole start of the song has very little guitar, which sends Brand tapping knuckles with people in front. He nods upwards to Veronica and Lisbeth, and a deeply pleased smirk towards Isrieal, who he can /barely/ see from the harsh lighting up front.
------------= END BAND POSE =--------------
Dora laughs. "Well, because it's polite to ask, is all." She cheerfully returns Tock's hug, then grins impishly as she lets her hair be thus inspected. "It seemed the thing to do, really." She takes another sip from her drink, then sets it down on the table before she laughs at Meg. "Wouldn't that be something?"
Harrison shakes Leslie's hand once, before saying, "Ah, well, Leslie... a pleasure to meet you. I teach Criminology at the Department of Criminal Justice and Legal Affairs." Withdrawing his hand, he settles onto the barseat as his drink arrives, the man saying to Leslie, "Can I get you a drink?" How could he POSSIBLY mean Veronica any harm when he's instead having a conversation with the newest TA at the University?
Dayne's chest-and-body slapping comes to an abrupt halt, his eyes widen, his lips skew aside one another, and he takes stock of his surroundings. He clears his throat, adjusts the workman's jacket that he wears, and casually reseats himself. As though he had never decided to have a...dance, he casually turns his attention back to his boothmates and quietly remarks, "This is really good music...", before turning his focus to those at the booth he shares.
Of course someone bumps into Ting again. But she stiffens and offers Cobalt a toothy smile. "That was me." Yeah, she bumped herself from behind, in the form of a slobbering drunk girl crying for Brand. Punching drunk girls would not be a wise activity to encourage, no. So the girl pushes toward the porch, using Cobalt as a battering ram through the seething masses.
???Four more? That is rather a precise number for the attempt,??? Tock half-observes, half-asks to see if there were reasoning behind that exact number. She grins at Meg, offering a little belated wave of greeting. ???I think we would be a fire hazard long before we threatened the structural integrity of the building.???
Myles is watching the music with Great Care - looking convincingly like an extra from The Outsider's who has allergies, as an occasional tear is wiped from his eyes, under his tinted shade. Maybe he's Overwhelmed By The Beauty, or something. Nah, probably allergies. Stupid plants, stuffing people up and all that. Scotch is sipped, but he does say something quiet in Dayne's direction, there at the table of casual weirdos.
Isrieal looks to Brand when he spots her, must be one of the lights reflecting off those snowy white curls of hers. She lifts her hand in a gesture back to him with a breif wave then focuses back to the little bar entourage.
Sloan nods to Leslie, "Congrats on the job." he hten drifts off a bit to let her have a conversation with her fellow teacher. His pitcher is nearing empty but hasn't given any sign that he has noticed he will soon be out of booze.
Leslie held up her delivered drink. "I beat you to it professor," she grinned and saluted. "Cheers though and thanks for the offer. Now to see if this will make me go wow or hurl chunks all over the bar patrons." She took a drink of the potent beverage, at least potent for the light weight red head. Oh yeah, there was the alcohol. That is why she really sucked at partying in college. She tried to drink the crap but her taste buds most of the time just flipped her off and said NO. This was too terrible but not something she'd chug for the hell of it. "Thanks," she says to Sloan as her throat burns little from the booze in the drink. "Oh yeah... going to need a detective after this to find where my tastebuds went," she laughed.
Veronica wiggles her fingers at Brand, but her smile is so strained, like a deer just caught in headlights. "I think I need a cigarette," she declares, shoving a hand into a sequined silver clutch circa 2003 to retrieve a crumpled pack. Despite how nice and non-threatening Harrison has been? She is slowly but surely inching away in the other direction, leaning and casting thoughtful glances off toward the back of the establishment.
Serena takes a drink from her glass, nudging Myles a little on purpose since he seems so distracted before turning back to the others to reply. "Oh, we've met," Serena replies to Lyd and Blanche with a little nod of her head toward the starry Elemental. "And I feel like we've had this conversation before," Serena says with a good-natured, amused smile to Cressida. "It's Serena though, yeah." She looks up just in time to catch Brand's gesture toward her and she can't help but grin a little. The dark-haired woman seems to catch the meaning that he wants her to stick around before being surprised to see Dayne extending his fist to her. She blinks at it in bewilderment for a moment before leaning forward and putting her fist against his. If it's hesitant, it's likely because she's unsure if she's doing it right.
Harrison looks over to Isrieal, the man pausing as he takes in the sight of her, and says softly, "Yeah. I really am not here to do any work. I'm here because I like music and I like being social..." He then looks over at Veronica... and then he shrugs, saying, "Really... I'm harmless tonight." At least tonight. To Leslie, he says, "Well, there you go..." He holds up his drink and says, "To vomiting in public from drinking random drinks," in toast to Leslie with a grin.
Lyd upnods towards the greeting from Serena, "Yeah, actually here not too long ago." She points to Brand with her beer bottle, "That one was here too. How'd all that shit I give you work out?" she asks Serena, her smile kind.
------------= BAND POSE =--------------
The female-led song is something of a fan-favorite. The crowd cheers as the song comes to an end, and Ali McKenna, bassist, dips her head into a curtsy for the audience and makes room for the bandleader once more. Taking a few sips of water from a bottle, Brand shakes the bottle twice and throws it into the audience in front, where people are crushed together and cheeks are more red. There's a lack of care for who the bottle hits, but that's rock, right? It's also free, cold water where the air conditioners aren't hitting so well.
"Okay, everybody, I'm gonna bring things a little bit more intimately here for a second. Brad? Can you bring these down a little?" Brand calls to the back, hand over his eyes to shield from the light. The lighting rig draws the lights on stage to a barely-there dim, the band four silhouettes. A thumb's up is given and when Brand steps back to the mic, a thin stream of light highlights his face from above.
"They call this place the Widow's Walk, because that little walkway on top of the building was for lonely wives of sailors to wait above the cliffs, holding vigil for their loved ones at sea." Brand has the audience eating out of the palm of his hand, dropping the raucous audience into the tone of something more sentimental. "When we last played here, it was 2015. Some of us didn't make it. Lovers. Friends. Legends like David Bowie and Lemmy. My good friend Erik. Now...this song." Brand looks down to his feet and begins to turn the tuner-knobs on the head of his guitar. "This little melody was written by a good friend - a Fallcoast girl - who couldn't be here tonight, but in the spirit of this lovely place that's been given to us tonight, I'm gonna ask you to put up your cigarette lighters and think long and hard about all of the people you love."
Brand looks over to Lyd for a long moment of silence, then turns back to the crowd.
"This is their song. Not ours." Brand mutters into the microphone. "Cigarette lighters. Cell phones. Everything. Let's light their way back to us and hold a vigil, a moment of love." A beat. "I'm sorry I missed some of you going."
...and then the band begins to play.
------------= END BAND POSE =--------------
When its requested that lighters be turned on, Nikki shifts from where she was perched. An old fashioned zippo is pulled from her pocket. She holds it upward, flicking it to life. The flame flickers and burns brightly. That's some high flame right there on that lighter. She smirks to herself as she looks a tit.
"I've been to one of these where someone got smart and pulled the fire alarm halfway through the encore," Dora half-shouts while bouncing around now near the table she's claimed as home base. "So not as much fun as some jerks think it is, when that happens. I'm sure they're keeping pretty close count at the door anyway, so hopefully no one gets any bright ideas to call the fire marshalls." She stops gyrating around when Brand 'brings it down', reaching instead for her drink to take a long drag from it, hip leaning against the table just next to where Tock's sitting. She tilts her head as she listens, then sets her glass down. Somewhere -- and who the hell knows where, given that outfit -- she's got her smart phone stashed. She tugs it out quickly, hits a few buttons to light up the screen, and then holds it up high over her head. As she does, she leans in and whispers something briefly to Tock before she straighens, flashing the woman a little grin before looking back up toward the stage.
Leslie turns to face the stage and actually listens to Brand talk up on stage and when he says those magic words; '...thank long and hard about all of the people you love.' Her face loses a bit of its happy tone. She does indeed pull out her smartphone and turns it on and opens up her picture gallery to load up of picture of a pretty red head on a bright summer's day. She smiles at the photo then holds the phone up, the girl in the image getting a great view of the concert. She takes another looooong drink of her beverage and just listens to the music, forgoing any conversation for the moment out of respect for the ones she loves and the ones she's lost.
See, Veronica was just thinking ahead. When Brand calls for lighters, she's already got hers in hand! And a cigarette and beer in the other, but it's a win-win. Before lighting up, she holds her Zippo high and sways to the mournful beat of the music. The shift in tone seems to keep her relaxed and not quite so ready to bolt for the door. All Harrison gets now is a small smile before she looks back to the stage.
Lyd matches Brand's glance, not breaking it until the song begins. A long pull from her bottle and a long inhale from her cigarette ends in yet another smoke ring. Other than that, she doesn't have much of a reaction that registers on any radar for anyone. Absently, she fishes her phone out of her pocket - one of those burner flip phones drug dealers are so fond of - and shoots off a text or two.
It's hooooot in here. So many people, sweaty bodies all moving and shaking. Cressida grabs her hair -- locks a mix of wildness and tangles -- and twists it into a pile atop her head. Grabbing a pencil left behind by a server, she uses it to secure her ratty tresses in place; there is a joint tucked back behind each of her ears. Or maybe they're just hand rolled cigarettes? Yeeeeah. Anyway, she leans back in her chair and grins brightly at her table mates, laughing at something that was said. "Yeah, I will fuck you up if you're not careful," she says to one of them, a wink soon following. Yeah, she looks like a terror. Watch out, people! Those spaghetti arms of hers will UNLEASH FURY if you do not tread lightly. A call for lighters goes up and, in a flash, she has hers in the air. It's something she's learned: slow songs = lighters. It's a trained response.
Sloan looks around at the room as the lighters starts to flicker on across the room. For a moment there is a flash of emotion across his face, insted of the mourning the song is trying to evoke it is fear. He takes a deep breath and then down the last of his pitcher. He then heads toward the door moving with purpose at one of the tables along the way he sets the now empty pitcher as he seeks to escape the sea of lighters.
> Isrieal to Here <===================================================
Rolled 3 Successes
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===============================> Resolve + Composure + 4 [No Flags] <
Speaking of fire hazards... Tock observes with a smile when lighters are requested. She produces a particularly shiny silver one from also uncertain storage for Audience Participation. She gives a little lean against Dora, the better to return soft words for such a loud environment.
Lighters, really Brand? Isrieal sits up alert when people start pulling them out, especially Verionica whose no more than a foot away from her. She eyes that flame for a moment then just kind of leans against the wall in the corner she's in and watches all those flames carefully.
The call for lights brings Dayne's hand down to his side, he retrieves a lighter, and flicks it to life. One long arm holding it up above the Abernathy table, he does as requested and sends some light off from the flame. Though his attention lowers back to his table and the casual threats, comments, and conversations taking place there.
Harrison watches as Leslie gets lost in that picture for a moment, before nodding, and pulls out his own phone, pulling out a picture of a beautiful blonde (one who looks a lot like Brianna, for those who know her, but the picture has a much younger version of Harrison in it, so it couldn't possibly be Brianna. As in it's at least 25 years old. He studies it for a long moment, before putting his phone away, as well.
Serena looks over to Lyd with an enthusiastic nod. "Great! No calls for help yet but I did send two texts. It was great, it's so much better than the phones from before," She speaks very eagerly about the cellphone, as if she got her hands on some great, curious wonder. "Apparently I needed that ID to get a drink. That's kind of strange huh?" She turns her attention to Blanche. "Oh. I'm doing...," She trails off for a moment, as if trying to find the words, "Good? Good, I think. It's not as loud in here as it is outside. Easier." The dark-haired woman has another drink, draining her glass a little more. "How about you? I didn't know this was your kind of scene," She says toward her soft-spoken counsin, "But I'm really glad you came." At the call to hold up a light in remembrance, Serena digs out her cellphone and holds it up. The rest of the conversation going on at the table seems lost on her once she's absorbed back into the band's music again.
Tilo's been enjoying the show, and cheers when each song is done. However, during the current set something shoos his attention downward, and he starts finagling with something in his left pocket. A beat passes until he comes up with his cellphone, and after looking over whatever it was coming from the brilliant screen he stands up. As polite as ever, he pushes his seat back to the table, shoots a sidelong glance to the band, and then starts on his way out.
------------= BAND POSE =--------------
The song, BLACKBIRD, ends somberly, with the dim lighting still on the band. Naturally, the slow end of the song lends easily to song quiet, bluesy guitar work from Brand Walker, who is resting his lungs after the long song with plenty of long, hard notes. Fingers down the neck of the guitar, Brand doesn't smile for now; he's far too busy playing tiny, arpeggio-inspired notes with plenty of hammerings and slides to get the notes to stick.
The somber guitar solo quiets, and there are some whistles from the crowd. Brand motions for the cigarette lighters to go down and when the first notes of THE DEATH OF ME start up, the lights switch back to a white and blue mix, catching in full picture coming back to life and leading into a song with a well-known theme: A lover you can't hold onto.
------------= END BAND POSE =--------------
You sense Blanche whispers, just between songs...mostly, in a voice that he can probably recognize as Blanche's, "You're very good, Brand. Why haven't you sang for me before?"
Leslie pulled her phone back down and looked at the picture of Sarah glowing on the screen and smiled at her image then kissed it and turned the phone off and put it back in her skirt-short pocket then started head bobbing to the guitar rift building on the stage. "This your kind of music professor?" she asked sidelong as she kept her eyes focused on the stage.
Amadei waves his cellphone, despite his companions not doing so.
"It helps with other things too." Lyd comments to Serena regarding the ID. "But, glad I could be of help. Keep it all as long as you like. If you need anything else, simply give me a ring and I'll set you up again." She raises her glass in a silent cheers before a bubble of laughter escapes her black lips. Cressida's makeshift updo with a pencil has her fascinated, though her own mohawk poking upwards a good 6 inches is anything but normal. "I can't remember the last time I had that much hair."
Amadei waves his phone when requested, despite his companions not doing so.
"You okay?" Veronica notices Isrieal pull away, quickly swapping the lighter to her other hand and holding it further away from the woman. She doesn't put it away entirely, but at least it's something. As the song dies down, she tosses it back away and forgets entirely about the cigarette she was going to have. Falling into a pensive silence, she remains silent and perhaps a bit distracted as the next tune starts up.
Myles blinks - when there is a change in tempo in Brand set, the quiet greaser nerd looks like he's been jolted back out of some kind of dreamy trance. Hah! Scotch! It does a thing to a man, like make them look around at those gathered at the table he sits at, speaking lowly with them with some urgency, wiping at his cheeks with a hand as he talks.
There's people Isrieal loves too that she'll never see again, she's fallen into a trance of thinking about that when Veronicas voice snaps her out of it. She nods quickly then and recovers once most of the lighters go away. "Oh yeah, I'm fine. Yeah."
Harrison is quiet for a long moment, as he is watching Leslie once that picture came out. He says softly, "It is..." He watches the stage for a moment before leaning in to speak more softly to Leslie, "It's good to see you still remember Sarah. I was on the force back then... I lost my own wife, so I understand what it's like to lose someone..." She never said the name Sarah, so... he must truly remember.
That caught Leslie's attention. She was only seventeen back then and doesn't remember a whole lot that revolved around the days after her sister's alleged suicide at the St. John's Hospital but he Harrison was the law it made sense to her that he knew her sister. She offered up a small smile, pulling her hair back over her left her with one of those graceful hand sweeps. "I'll never forget her.. ever." That was evident by the Sarah belt buckle on her skirt-shorts and the tattoo on her left ankle. "If we never forgot them they are never really gone, right?"
Lyd is for some reason laughing brightly at her table, slapping her knee and saying loudly, 'WOOOOOED!"
Serena pulls her attention away from the band to Blanche, her expression brightening for a moment. "Ooh, a cemetary huh? That sounds like a it'd be a fun place to hang out at. I've never been you know," She says eagerly. However, at the mention of seeming better, Serena's expression falters slightly and those faint traces of exhaustion are apparent again. It's gone a moment later as she plays it off with an airy chuckle though. "Do I? That's good. Maybe I just needed some time like the others were saying." She looks over to Lyd with that casual demeanor back in place, lowering her cellphone in response to Brand's motion. "Yeah, sure. Thanks again for helping as much as you have, I do appreciate it." She still seems rather floored by Lyd's generosity, much like she was with Dora and Tock. The sound of Myles' voice gets her attention back to him. "Hey, eagle scout. Too distracted to say hi now?," Serena says to him with a mock pout.
------------= BAND POSE =--------------
One more song down, and the band seems content to let their guitars hang for the moment. Standing high above the crowd, Brand holds out his hands and flaps his fingers, beckoning for more applause while pointing to his sides and behind his back. His head tilts just a measure, as if suddenly hearing something that brings a smile to his face; a bittersweet smile at that. He shrugs, demurely, out over the crowd and cracks the seal on a fresh bottle of water given to him by a stage hand. Amused, he calms his razor-sharp brow and looks around, seeking someone he can't seem to find.
So he chooses the microphone.
"Okay, this is a local show, not some big concert festival, not some massive arena, so let's get to know each other a little better." Brand grins just a little at the applause that comes from the no-named faces in the crowd. Brand waits, then turns to slug a third of the bottle. He plucks at the toggles of his leather vest and pulls it off to reveal a fairly well-sculpted body, abdominal muscles and obliques dipping to his low belt-line, but there /are/ a couple of strange, circular scars on his shoulder and what looks to be some kind of animal bite above his left pectoral muscles. He wraps the jacket up and throws it to a hand waiting at the edge of the stage. "Alright. Better. It's hotter than hell up here."
"Before we keep going, I'd like to take the time to send out some thanks to Lyd and the Widow's Walk for having us all out at their place tonight. The friends, the family, the band family, good people like Mired and Cobe, wherever the fuck he went." Brand laughs and looks back over his shoulder, out to the patio window and the makeshift backstage area. Having a good time, but despite being shirtless, the /gyrations/ have died down to a minimum.
"By the way, we are Tooth and Nail." Brand's eyes shift over the microphone, looking around. "How's everybody feeling tonight? Do we feel good?"
------------= END BAND POSE =--------------
Leslie screamed out toward the stage, "I love your music! Gimme them CDs!"
Dayne appears to be looking all around the booth he shares with others. Eyeballing one person, then another, then another, until he's crazy-eyed each person at least once. At one point he looks from Blanche to the stage, an eyebrow raised and one eye wider than the other in that stereotypical burn-your-house-down-and-kidnap-your-cat look. Then once again his head dips down and he returns to muttering and staring at his boothmates.
Rasender heard his name, and he stands up, grinning, to proudly give Brand the finger. Ting happens to be on his lap, and he actually stands up /with/ her, holding onto her and not letting her go even as he's on his feet. 'Cause he's strong! Then he's sitting again.
Rose opens the door and steps into the bar. Though she pauses near the door as she looks around, as the place doesn't really looked the way she expected, at least not at the moment with the band set up and the room cleared for people dancing.
When pressed by Brand on stage to participate, a shout comes up from Dayne at the Abernathy claimed booth, "FUCK YEAH!!"
Tock, lighter no longer in hand, is free to applaud readily for Brand's crowd interaction. And only louder at that question. Clapping is like an answer in a crowd this size, right?
Harrison can't help but smile wryly to Leslie, the man saying into her ear (as the music is loud), "You are right. We can't ever forget. But we have to move on. It's what they'd want..." He steps back and takes a long swig of his drink, before setting it down, and saying to Leslie, "I'll see you around the University..." And with that, his smile a bit forced (as if he, too, were thinking about those lost), he turns to go - giving Veronica and Isrieal a nod, as if saying 'see? I'm leaving and I didn't arrest anyone'.
Lyd stands up on her table then, sorry folks at table six mind yoru whiskey, and curtsies to Brand when he mentions her. "And we are fuckin' glad to have ya, fucker." she beams with her trademark cheshire smile. Effortlessly she hops down with surprising grace and gives the nearest person a one armed hug. Sorry, Serena. You got the full gutterpunk effect.
Amadei stays standing, arms folded, making his lean frame even narrower. He watches the interactions between Brand and Rasender, and Brand and the audience as best he can from his vantage, and talks quietly with his companions.
------------= BAND POSE =--------------
"Gimme them CDs?" Brand laughs and leans forward, shielding his eyes with a flat hand to look out across the audience. There, he finds Rasender and slooooowly raises a finger to the man in return with a laugh. "Okay who said that? Be honest," Brand's tone turns sarcastic. "IDunWannaSeeSixtyOfYouRaisinYourHands n'shit."
------------= END BAND POSE =--------------
Veronica uses two fingers to whistle as clothes start peeling off the stage. Snickering to herself as she shakes her head at Brand and the rest of Tooth and Nail, she finally settles on a stool, sitting still for the first time all evening. Her knee keeps bouncing, indicating just how brimming with energy she is. "Later," she even grins at Harrison, tapping flattened fingers to her forehead in a jaunty salute.
Leslie whistles and raises her hands and flails them like a whacky inflatable tube guy! "Right here! I want that music!"
Myles looks like a man both out of time, and out of his element -- befuddled by what's going on, shrinking in his chair at the table as he looks to Dayne, then Lyd -- perhaps their communication with Brand makes him squirmish, lest the spotlight somehow - however unrealistic - falls to him. Dreamy look, wiping his cheek - probably sweat or something, it's hot here - Myles looks to Cressida and speaks with her softly.
Serena listens with rapt attention to Brand speak to the audience, working the crowd up in a resounding cheer which she joins in on. She seems quite admiring of his showmanship skills, oh yes. She does turn to Dayne after that, giving him a curious once-over once she catches that sour look on his face. "You seem a bit on edge there," Serena casually points out the obvious. Her tone is still quite good-natured and friendly however. "Drink?," She motions toward Dayne and then the whiskey. Serena takes a healthy gulp of her own drink as well, in solidarity with her suggestion of course. The dark-haired woman gives Blanche an eager grin. "I'll most certainly hold you to that. I definitely want to see it sometime!" Serena gives Miles a slightly exasperated look as he seems too out of it to really notice her in his conversation... or confrontation, with Dayne.
Alright, now its getting too crazy for the Darkling. Isrieal finishes off her drink then gathers her things. "I'm going to go, have a goodnight." She nods to Veronica. She stuck it out as long as she could but she always hits this point. Even if there is lots of glamour around she's had plenty doses of it lately.
Up they go, then down again. Ting doesn't know Brand, but she waves anyway when the male she is seated on rises up to flip the singer the bird. Aw, a bromance. She somehow is part of his backstage party thingy good-time. Then the noise level rises right back up and she busies herself with fresh air and bottled water on the blessed porch.
------------= BAND POSE =--------------
"We've been giving it to hundreds of people for over an hour now and boy are we gonna be tired, baby." Brand leans and dips a knee, a mock dude-curtsy in a way to Lyd as he bats a fist against his chest towards her. Brand waves to Ting and then spots Leslie in the crowd, motioning for her to come up on stage. "Hey," Brand leans forward to mutter something to the security, then comes back to the microphone. "Come on up here, lady, I want everyone to meet you."
------------= END BAND POSE =--------------
"See you," Veronica bids, giving Isrieal a friendly goodbye no. "Thanks for the drinks," she adds, raising her most recent refill in the darkling's direction. Smirking at Leslia as Brand calls her up on stage, she gestures broadly to make space around the bar for the woman to wiggle through.
Leslie turns almost as red as her hair as the spotlight is suddenly on her. This she had no expected but she wasn't exactly the shy one either so she quickly downs the rest of that drink she had ordered to muster up a little push of courage just in case she got cold feed then waded through the crowd in her bright white attire, a snowflake in a sea of darkness and made it up on stage under her own power or help if offered. She smiled at Brand as she was now up close and personal, giving the rest of the band a close inspection, "You guys seriously rock hard," she says with a happy smile.
Serena nods in agreement with Blanche. "Excellent, looking forward to it," Serena replies with a pleased smile. She gives up on trying to get Myles' attention, or following along the twists and turns of the conversation they're having, and just looks back to the band. Serena claps with open amusement as Brand gets a fan, Leslie, up on stage.
------------= BAND POSE =--------------
While waiting for Leslie, Brand waves back to a stagehand, who gathers a few items and a pen. The band, in turn, is passed a pair of CDs, and they begin to scribble into the lining book on the insides of both of the albums. Grinning, brand offers to help Leslie up with a hand and motions for her to join him at the microphone. "Why thank you, we're happy you came out to see us tonight." Brand turns to accept the CD liner and begins to write his name into it. "What's your name?"
------------= END BAND POSE =--------------
Leslie looked nervous but happy, his body language showing it all as she rocked back and forth. "Leslie Kruden," she offered up. "What's yours?" she laughed. She was completely clueless about the band members, only the name that sounded cool in the adverts for the concert tonight.
Now left to her own devices at the bar, Veronica's eyes narrow as she glances this way and that. There's a hint of uncertainty on her face, the look of one who is very much alone and uncertain of how to deal with it. It doesn't take her long for her to get one more drink, thanks to the bartender, before shoving off and away from the bar to get lost in the mosh of bodies that is the dancing crowd.
Leslie looked nervous but happy, her body language showing it all as she rocked back and forth. "Leslie Kruden," she offered up. "What's yours?" she laughed. She was completely clueless about the band members, only the name that sounded cool in the adverts for the concert tonight.
------------= BAND POSE =--------------
"My name's Brand Walker," Brand laughs playfully and hands the CD notes off to the hand, who collects them and takes them backstage. "Well, Leslie, it's really nice to meet you and we'll get you those CDs after the show, but first." Brand holds up a finger and points to the crowd. "No joke, I almost asked a girl named Leslie to Homecoming, and this is homecoming. Ironic. Alright. Everyone?"
Brand pauses and waves his hand over the crowd.
"Say hi to Leslie. On three. One. Two. Three..."
------------= END BAND POSE =--------------
So, this is evidently completely *not* what one broody old Immortal expected. Ritter doesn't look annoyed, but more bemused, pausing as if he's not certain if he should abandon what's becoming a common haunt of his in favor of somewhere quieter to drink. But the whiskey's apparently worth it, and he picks his way to the bar, avoiding the whorl of dancing bodies in favor of eeling along the edges to claim a seat very nearly at the end.
Lyd is shaking her arm at something that happened at her table, wiping it off with a napkin. "For fuck's sake, I am not a personal lollipop..."
Dayne Abernathy quietly speaks up from his booth, "Hiiiii Leslie..", then ducks his head back down into conversation at the booth.
Serena turns to give Myles a rather deadpan stare when the distracted man seems to just now pick up on her presence for the first time. "I'd say the whole time," She says, sounding almost indignant. Then the facade drops and she lets out a jovial laugh. "Okay, only part of the time. But honestly, eagle scouts should really be more alert." She gives him a gentle pat on the shoulder before hearing Brand continue his conversation with Leslie. She joins in, "Hiii Leslie~..."
Myles turns away from his table as Brand asks for a call out -- raising a pretty empty glass in the air as a toast. "Hiiii Leslie!" He calls out, so obedient - laughing sharply after - turning back to chatter on with his table mates, back of his hand wiping his cheek, under his tinted glasses.
From her perch on the porch Ting leans toward the stage and howls, "Hiiiii, Leslie!" That done, she looks to her conversation companions and grins. "He told us to say 'hi'," she informs them. That explains it all.
Rose leans back against the wall near the door slightly as she casually glances around the crowd. Her gaze slowly moves towards the band since they are the loudest people in the place.
Leslie waves excitedly to the throng before her. "Hello Fallcoast you lovely and beautiful people!" and blew everyone a single kiss to share amongst themselves. She then turned to Brand with a little shock and opened mouth smile of amazement. "Really? I get the musics? Oh you should have taken that Leslie to homecoming for sure!" she laughed.
------------= BAND POSE =--------------
Oh, sweet crowd participation, Batman. Brand /loves/ it all, grinning ear to ear with his little dip and wave of his hand to time the 'hi leslies' with the room. His eyes sweep from Serena to Dane to Ritter in the back, and then he turns to collect a black tank top from the stage hand and hold it out for the audience to see. On the front is the logo for the new album, and on the back, in big, bold letters is:
TOOTH AND NAIL
07 - 08 - 2016
"I should have, I really should have." Brand smiles and shows the shirt to Leslie. "Now, we're hocking these after the show, limited edition, we've got tees and tank tops, but you, since you're our new friend, are going to get one for free." Brand flashes a toothy grin to Leslie. "And you can take it and walk away and tell everyone about how much fun you had tonight. I want everyone up front here..." Brand motions to the crowd. "...ready to catch her, okay. You ever crowd surf, Leslie?" A beat. "But first."
Dramatic pause. Brand leans into the mic and giggles.
"It's up to you if you want to change into your new shirt before you take a ride on the crowd." Brand looks over the audience, then back to Leslie with a wink. "But I speak for a lot of us, I think, that we'd /really/ like to see you crowd surf in official Tooth and Nail gear."
------------= END BAND POSE =--------------
Myles shakes his head as he watches Brand from his table - what's his expression? Incredulous? Confused? Overwhelmed? Drunk? Why not all four -- the young greaser looks absolutely flabbergasted with the entire proceedings. "What the *fuck* is going /on/?"
Serena smiles quite genuinely when Blanche speaks to the group, raising in glass in agreement. "Glad you all showed up." She gives Myles a slightly concerned look now, her eyes widening a little. "Whoa, I was just messing with you. It's pretty wild in here, yeah," She seems almost used to it somehow, her lips curving up slightly as she glances over the writhing, cheering masses. "It's okay, I was only a little annoyed," She says to Myles with teasing giggle. Serena's focus is drawn back to Brand's amplified voice in response to the crowd surfing suggestion and then she's cheering at the mention of slipping into the band's gear to do it. "Whooo! Go on and surf in style!"
Garnet arrives from the VIP area. She's late, but she is usually late these days. Garnet is taller than usual; prowling in on four inch, peeptoe heels. Her hair is swept from her face in victory rolls and pin curls and her lips are painted in matte, brilliant red. Wrapped in a rockabillyesque dress, it clings to her torso with a sweetheart neckline and flares out in a flirty skirt, a fabric crinoline beneath keeping things voluminous. To Lost eyes, velvet ears prick and swivel -- her eyebrow furrowed, clearly having a tiny bit of a hard time at all of the LOUD NOISES. The Snickerdoodle Kitty ventures further inside, the bit of awkwardness of attending a concert alone apparent.. but she's keeping her chin tipped up, even if she's wearing a vivid red dress.
Leslie nodded to Brand to the question of crowd surfing and said, "Once, long ago, in Portland.. where they dropped me. I got better." She chuckled at her little joke then looked at the top. She very much wanted to be a port and put that short on but how does one do that when the top they have on does not allow for a bra to be worn undernearth which means.. topless if she was going to exchange shirts and not be cop out and just put the tank top on over her other outfit. "Ummmm.. I would very much like to ride the surf in your attire but I have only two options; get topless and put on the shirt or put the shirt on top of what I got."
Leslie nodded to Brand to the question of crowd surfing and said, "Once, long ago, in Portland.. where they dropped me. I got better." She chuckled at her little joke then looked at the top. She very much wanted to be a sport and put that shirt on but how does one do that when the top they have on does not allow for a bra to be worn undernearth which means.. topless if she was going to exchange shirts and not be a cop out and just put the tank top on over her other outfit. "Ummmm.. I would very much like to ride the surf in your attire but I have only two options; get topless and put on the shirt or put the shirt on top of what I got."
------------= BAND POSE =--------------
"Well, then you've got a decision to make, don't you?" Brand makes adurrable-face at Leslie and dents his lip with his teeth. He offers the shirt into her hands and strums a note on the guitar. "We're all friends here."
------------= END BAND POSE =--------------
Rose tilts her head slightly as she looks at what is going on at the stage and shakes her head slightly. She cups her hands in front of her face as she cries out, "Boo! That is sexual harassment! Boo!"
Myles gives a lazy salute to Dayne - he's leaning on Cressida now, sitting as he is at the table, drunk but not too disorderly. "Dayne, keep it classy - don't dig too deep, mm?" A dreamy smile is offered - his tone not accusatory, but kind - even if it's mostly lost in the din of the rock show.
Lyd lights another cigarette, drawling at the spectacle onstage, "It isn't a rockshow if we don't see heels, tits, and a grope here or there." She grins her amusement and watches to see what will unfold.
Blanche speaks quietly to those at her table as she stands, finishing off the last of her drink. Those nearest her, namely Myles and Cressida, get light touches to the shoulder, before she makes her way to the door, then outside.
Serena doesn't register it right away but figures exactly which 'Sabrina' Cressida is talking to and stops her cheering to turns her attention to the starry Elemental. "Huh? Oh, settling in, well I've got a drink, listening to great music, and I'm here with you guys so I'd say good. Right now is good. Otherwise I'd say I'm still... adjusting all this," She gestures to the room but it's probably referring to world beyond the Hedge in general. It's sort of an answer, at least. When Blanche informs them that she's leaving, Serena offers a wave goodbye. "Be seeing you!"
Blanche only leaves after pausing to give sad Myles a quick and slightly awkward hug. But then she goes. For reals.
Not a lot of conversation, considering the sheer noise level. But Ritter's negotiated himself his usual neat whiskey. He's still watching with that rather reserved expression, as if he hasn't yet made up his mind on all of it.
Serena notices that Dayne is also about to leave and turns to offer a friendly, parting wave. "Good meetin' ya. Well, as much as anyone can meet in a place like this. See you around."
Dig deep Leslie. Remember your college days. They were only a few months ago. You were wild but you were also not employed by the university in town either at the time. You know this shit is going to appear on YouTube, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr and who knows what else. She chews on her lower lip and shrugs. YOLO bitches. She pulls her top up over her head and shakes her hair out from it as other D-Cup sized things shake around on stage too. She hands Brand her top and trades it for the band's tank top and rather quickly shimmies it down over her head and tucks the girls away, all the while her pale skin red as a beet.
Myles gives Blanche a squeeze -- he may be a nerdy greaser who's literally lame enough to walk with a cane, but he's still polite. After a fashion. A distracted look is given to Leslie, head tilting to the side as he observes. "...What the fuck is happening? Where are we?" Quieter, he murmurs to the table...
Veronica is looking a bit distracted. Lost? She dances for a while, laughing with the crowd, but her expression becomes distant at best. She starts to peel herself and her loudly colored dress away from the crowd, wriggling her way through the mass of bodies to head for the front entrance.
Rasender has pulled out the enormous phablet he keeps in his jacket, and is cursing at it. "Fucking...of all the times." He gently lifts Ting off his lap and sighs. "Gotta deal with some stupid-ass shit. I gotta go." He happens to look over and see a disrobing Leslie, which makes for a nice diversion before he looks back to Ting and Amadei. "Ting, sweetheart, you wanna stay and meet the band? Or we can do it another time. Get you a private signing. Whatever you want." This is how Amadei gets away with some of the things he's been saying here, apparently. Via distraction.
Serena blinks over at Myles once she catches his question, looking a bit puzzled. "Uh, we're at the show. Y'know, Tooth and Nail, Brand's gig? You're friends with him I thought." Serena misses Leslie's disrobing since her focus is on Myles.
Dayne nods toward those present before he carefully extracts himself from the tight confines of the booth. He grits his teeth as he pries himself free without the aid of the jaws of life. Once free, he straights the flannel work coat that he wears before he begins to trod off toward from the booth. He pauses for a moment to abruptly look up and to the left. He ducks his head, arms up to cover the back of his head and deck, before his head is up and searching the air again. Abruptly he slaps at his chest, kicks a foot out as though trying to either do some Michael Jackson maneuver or dislodge something from the leg of his blue jeans, and then shouts, "Fuc-king BEES! BEEEES!" The man proceeds from that point to dash off to the nearby front exit, swatting haphazardly at the air as he goes. Quickly he's out the door and into the cool Friday evening air.
Amadei just looks smug: he knows how he's been getting away with things.
------------= BAND POSE =--------------
Brand, as well as the rest of Tooth and Nail, step back and applaud amongst the wolf-whistles from the crowd when Leslie decides to bite down on changing the shirt. Leaning just a little, Brand /looks/, along with several other hundreds of people, and claps his hands. He waits until the redhead has the top over her head and smoothed down onto her belly before wrapping an arm around her shoulders in a hug and plants a kiss to her cheek.
"God, I love playing Fallcoast." Brand thrusts up a fist and leans in to whisper to Leslie, points to the stage hand, and then steps back to offer the crowd before her for a stage dive and surf. "Leslie, ladies and gentlemen. Oh my god, Leslie, you are a wonderful creature, don't let this world take that away from you, so long as you draw breath." Brand chuckles and starts the first few chords to POISONING THE INKWELL from the new album.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, animals, we're gonna play a couple more and then say goodbye to all of you. We'll be hanging around for a little bit after to sign shirts and things, so on behalf of TOOTH AND NAIL I want to say thank you again for kicking off this new album with an /unbelievable/ show." Brand turns his head to the crowd and double-takes at Garnet, then grins wide out to the redhead with a broad set of lips and a hand over his heart.
And the band plays on. With...some concerned looks to the man screaming about bees.
------------= END BAND POSE =--------------
There are faces he knows, but apparently departing. Ritter lifts a hand to Rasender, but he's utterly diverted by Dayne's battle with nonexistent bees. Notable as the entertainment on stage is, there's definitely distraction to be found in the audience, as well. Apparently it's countered his impulse to sidle away from noise. Then Leslie's shaking her moneymakers, and he glances at the bartender, as if awaiting his reaction.
"I know that!" Myles says, a touch too defensively to Serena. A jittery hand goes to smooth back his already smoothed hair - making sure it's neat and the pomade isn't pooling, presumably. He watches Dayne as he exits - shaking his head a little. "...Note worthy." Huh? What? He's then turned back to the drama of Brand's playing. "I understand him better now - with all the," here, he waves a hand. "Breasts and such, no wonder."
Rose shakes her head slightly at what is going on at the stage, and screams out one last "Boo!" though when she notices Varonic heading towards the door while looking a bit lost, she looks over towards her with a gentle smile. "Hello. Everything okay?"
Lyd quirks a pierced brow as Dayne goes darting out, and sadly the gutterpunk has torn her eyes away from the disrobing of Leslie. That did get a silent lift of the beer, a toast, from the waif.
"Women should be able to show their tits if they want to!" Garnet hollers back in the direction through cupped hands at the sexual harassment yelling, amused, even before she leans against the wall with her arms folded against her chest. She grins at Brand a little and glances away -- back around the room, picking out faces curiously. She'd watched Blanche leave curiously, one red 'brow lifted, before looking back to the room at large. Even she can't help but to rock back and forth on her heels to the music.
Leslie turned her back on the crowd, getting on the edge of the stage and as Brand and his band started rocking out again she took the plunge of faith and fell backwards off the stage into the crowd after giving them more than enough time to gather and catch the fit girl. Of course... she kind of forgot her real top on stage in the heat of the moment. Perhaps she could get it back later for now! STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGE DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE~!
Of all times. When Cobalt releases her, Ting gets to her feet and watches him receive what must apparently be bad news. Evening interrupting news. She wraps her hand around his and leans in, pressing her arm to his. "I don't want to stay here without you. Can I go with you?" she asks, like that is even something she needs to ask. But she does, and she is peering up at him with wide eyes and a subdued grin. "You can introduce me later. The band is very busy with a few hundred people in there." And the half-naked girl is causing a frenzy!
Amadei steps away from Rasender and Ting and lifts a hand in farewell. "Take care, then!" Instead of staying in the veep area, he just heads back for the crowd.
Rasender puts his arm around Ting's shoulders. "Alright, let's get out of here. Later, Amadei. Good to see you." He starts to steer her out, nodding to Ritter on the way, fighting off any fans that might spy him, and eventually making it out the door.
Serena is distracted from Myles for a moment by Dayne's dynamic way of exiting a room, watching the spectacle all the way to the exit. "What a strange guy. I like him! Our family is so great," She says with a small, perhaps slightly inebriated giggle. Myles' defensive reply snaps her out of that a bit however. "Alright, alright." She gives him that look of concern again and is certainly attentive to that jittery hand but doesn't comment again for worry of touching another nerve. "You do huh?," Serena looks back toward Brand, a small frown on her lips. "I'm sure that's not the only reason..." The dark-haired woman watches the crowd surfing Leslie along and then to the band with a distant look to her eyes. Cressida's voice seems to pull her attention back to the table however. "Yeah, some things are pretty great I'll admit. I guess it's the little things eh? He said he had to go and then there was something about bees I think. Yeah, bees."
------------= BAND POSE =--------------
The stage lighting streams and moves around on robotic swivels as the band kicks into the thick of the song. Luckily, the Tooth and Nail crowd doesn't drop Leslie on her head, pitching in together to carry her back towards the bar on a vaguely shiatsu massage of human hands. Brand waits until a break in the music to pluck the old top off of the stage and stuff it into the back pocket of his jeans, letting it dangle like a bandana while he plays.
And play, oh, the band does. The venue rumbles as Brand launches into yet another song about love lost, because really, what other kinds of rock songs are there? Bobbing his head and weaving about the rest of the band, Brand works towards the end of the set, which ends in a two-piece cover of Guns n' Roses' Nightrain and Rocket Queen. The latter taking up a long, long guitar solo.
When the last song is played, the band gathers in the front to wrap arms about each other and bow their heads in a professional show of courtesy to the crowd for coming out to see them. Drumsticks and water bottles are thrown out to the crowd, and the lights dim to give the band some cover to escape, sweaty and dabbing their necks with towels, out to the backstage area.
------------= END CONCERT. =--------------
Leslie most definitely needs a second shot of anything after showing off her tits on stage. She had not set out to be an exhibitionist this night but it was a celebration, party and concert all rolled into one. If any photos or footage got back to campus she'll just claim plausible deniability. "Buttery Nipple, please," she asks the bartender. That was actually a drink she liked.
Garnet has fetched herself a drink -- a white russian which is probably so stereotypical it likely hurts. It's huge, and she's stirring it carefully before slipping back into the VIP area.
Serena gives Lyd a sort of wavy 'eh' hand in response to her ask for assistance. " Serena raises her glass in response to Myles words, apparently agreeing wholeheartedly with them. "I know it's not for everyone but I'm always up for a /good/ game," She says with a small, intoxicated grin. Missing any bitterness in Myles tone, she looks back toward the stage with an admiring smile. "Yeah, he was pretty impressive tonight huh?"
Rose decides she will head out as well, since the band stopped playing and it seemed like others were already leaving as well.
> Myles to Here <=====================================================
Rolled 3 Successes
< 2 3 8 9 9 >
==========> Presence + Persuasion.Humble_Suggestions + 1 [No Flags] <
> Cressida to Here <==================================================
Rolled 3 Successes
< 2 2 3 5 6 7 7 8 8 9 >
===========================> Resolve + Composure + 3 + 2 [No Flags] <
Ritter inclines his head in affable greeting to Amadei. Apparently the vague memory of prior acquaintance is mutual. He's nursing his whiskey, with his usual careful parsimony...and g lancing down at his phone, as if waiting for a call or a text.
It takes ten, maybe fifteen minutes. When the crowd has thinned out greatly and the rest of the band is signing merchandise being sold at the booth near the front door, Brand Walker returns. He's thrown a plain, black shirt over the top of his sweaty body and has a towel draped over his shoulder. A little sweaty, a little tired, he steps back in and hops one foot onto the stage to stretch his neck like a giraffe's and look around, trying to spot where everybody is.
Leslie is over at the bar talking to other club goers about the concert and the stage dive performance while drinking down some Buttery Nipples, proudly sporting her new tank top. A hard won battle trophy to be sure!
Ritter is at the bar, looking at his phone, nursing a whiskey like the cheap bastard he is. But then Amadei's addressed a question to him, and he glances up, momentarily owlish, before replying.
Dora tilts her head as listens to Tock, holding a half-full bottle of cold water against her flushed cheek as she listens. "Seems like a good plan to me. Oh, and look, man of the hour is back." She grins briefly as she nods up toward the stage, then looks back at Tock as she slides off her seat. "Shall we?"
Something is happening over at the table where Myles is - he's turning, facing Cressida - hands reaching out to, if she'll let him, hold both of hers gently. Taking in a deep breath, the nervous thin man smiles, then leans in close - speaking to her in what should be a whisper, but it's louder since one has to kinda speak up in a crowd this big.
Lyd rises from her table amid a peal of laughter silenced from a long pull on her beer. She heads towards the bar to get a round of refills for her group, settling in to stand right beside Ritter. With an upnod she grins at him, waggling her brows. "Enjoyin' the show?"
Myles mutters "When ... look at ... I don???t ... see ... ... ... body ... I ... ... ... ... bizarre woman ... had ... pleasure of ... ... am in awe ... ... ... cannot read ... ... yet ... ... me ... ... ... ... ... more. When ... speak ... ... I am ... worried you won???t ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... wretched ... ... am ... ... ... deathless death with me I ... I would ... tirelessly ... be ... of your unmistakeable ..." to Cressida.
Amadei leans an elbow on the bar, and watches Myles, though he keeps speaking to Ritter. His umbrella drink gets to him pretty quickly, and he sips at it.
Tock chuckles her tinkling sort of laugh in answer to Dora. ???We better had before fangirls overwhelm and there is no chance of saying anything at all.??? She stands and follows after.
Dora gets up from a table. (#4).
Serena catches sight of Brand and checks her drink to find it's almost on empty. She looks back in Myles and Cressida's direction to see them in the middle of a little game themselves and decides to give them some privacy. She rises up from the table and moves in Brand's direction, motioning him toward the bar as she does. "That was a great show, rock star," Serena calls with a cheshire grin to the Tooth and Nail leader.
Ritter murmurs to AMadei, for a moment. Then he grins back at Lyd, lazily. "More than I expected," he allows, in that lazy English drawl. "I mean, there are enough topless bars in this town, I didn't expect the impromptu addition, y'know?"
Myles moves, once he's finished saying THAT to Cressida, to brush her hair back a little. Aw yis, he's smooth. Must be the greaser costume, channeling some Sodapop Realness.
Amadei pushes off from the bar. "Good!" And sails off.
Jesse steps in, also looking at his phone, Swyping something on it. Then he looks up and peers around. Then back down at his phone. He cleans up well, Jesse does, almost obnoxiously so. It's a nice regimen he's got, fortunate genes and Immortality. He frowns, then looks back down at his phone.
"Beat to the punch," Dora says with a wry smile -- but it doesn't stop her trajectory, as she leads the way through the thinning crowds toward the stage, after Serena. Which may be why she ends up catching Myles and Cressida, one brow arching before she calls out, "Myles, don't paw at the poor woman!"
Amadei accidentally almost plonks into Jesse, and one arm somehow windmills gracefully so that he might keep his balance. "Eek hi hello!"
Catching Serena first, Brand smiles to the woman and offers an arm for a somewhat sideways, somewhat sweaty hug. Thury is missing out on all kinds of man-sweat tonight. "You really liked it? Thanks. Doing this is the best feeling ever, really. Is this your first rock show?" Brand adds as he nears and makes sure that somewhat sweaty hug happens. In the turn, he catches Tock and Dora looking his way, and he waves them over, grinning as he's on a one man mission to the bar, thumbing at his cell phone as he goes. "It's exhausting. I'm gonna sleep so good tonight." Brand adds, motioning to one of the beers on tap.
"One generally is not granted an audience without a wait," Tock replies to Dora, grin playful. She returns Brand's wave, following along at an unhurried pace. No need to make people feel chased and crowded when they're expressing exhaustion, after all.
Cressida lets her hands be taken, looking down at this action with an expression of delighted fascination. And then Myles is leaning in close, whispering to her. Except it is loud, right there by her ear -- bordering on shout-y because it's pretty noisy in here. The hippy listens to what he has to say carefully -- partly because she's high and she loses track of words right after they've been said if she doesn't hang onto them, and partly because this is a Very Important Moment in her study of social behavior. When he's done, she leans back and looks at him, features blank. "I have a unmistakeable graze? That doesn't make sense." She, uh, probably heard him wrong.
Leslie spots Brand and his quickly growing entourage. She pays off her tab rather than keep drinking. She was going to go ask for her shirt back but it appeared the leader singer was head this way. She'd wait.
"Well, if you don't have tits showin' you're not a success." Lyd imparts so sagely to Ritter. "At least, that is what a guy runnin' a dive out in Cali told me once." She shakes her head, bemused, reaching for the new beer that had been placed in front of her.
Myles only seems to have eyes for Cressida -- everyone else? Ignored. He's fully committed to staring into Cressida's starry eyes through the lenses of his tinted shades. Who wears sunglasses at night, inside, besides Roy Orbison? Christ, Myles does. Full Attention is Given, even after the dippie hippe shoots him down -- ouch -- he just smiles, so sadly, and chatters on to her quietly still, although he lets go of her hands.
Serena reciprocates the hug quite eagerly, not seeming to mind it's sweaty nature one bit. It's hard to tell whether that's because she just appreciates how much work he put into the show or that she's just drunk. Maybe a bit of both. "I loved it! Yeah, first rock show. Never played at one of those," She says absently, not bothering to explain before continuing. "I've always wanted to go to one. You were really in your element up there." She takes notice of Dora and Tock approaching as well and offers a friendly wave to them.
Amadei wears them at night, too! Like right now.
Ritter mulls this over, even as he waves at Jesse. His face softens at the sight of the younger Immortal - not quite a simper, but certainly a good deal more warmth than he's yet shown. "I'm not sure what I think of that as a metric of success," he notes to Lyd, drily.
Myles mutters "Gaze ... ... ... looking ... That's ... flirting ... well ... of you ... ... channel ... part ... ... ... ... ... ... ... person on ... ... ... dig? ... like a ... but ... put your ... ... ... and ... ... forward. Sometimes ... easier than others ... ... a super tough cookie. You'll get it." to Cressida.
Jesse's arm comes out reflexively and catches Amadei around the waist to steady him. The movement sweeps them both about in a half-circle, turning what might've been an ass-over-tea-kettle moment into one smooth as hell save. "Hi! Hey, are you all right?" He smiles at Amadei broadly, then tilts his head as he realizes he's got an armful of... yowza. "I was going to say I should watch where I'm going, but..."
"I'm not much of one to believe it as a caliber of success either, but then again he was closed down within the year." Lyd continues, "And there was a lot of skin shown there without a single in a g-string in sight." She pats the man on the shoulder and advises, "You have the air of a soldier, y'know? Loosin' it up a little. Next one on me, just let the barkeep know."
Dora shakes her head after a moment, turning back to mutter something at Tock in the meantime. But it's brief, whatever it is, and all her attention turns to Serena and Brand as the both look up from their conversation. "Hey! Sorry, we didn't mean to interrupt too much -- just wanted to tell you how great the show was, Brand." She then turns that smile on Serena. "And sounds like you had a great time, too."
Dora mutters "... ... ... so-called nice guys ... are the biggest ... ... ..." to Tock.
Amadei beams at Jesse, and drapes his arms over Jesse's shoulders-- somehow, his drink stays safe. His hair fans out behind him as they spin, like shining, moonlit quicksilver that's bright even in the warmly dim confines of the bar. "My name's Amadei. What's yours?"
Lyd gives Ritter a crisp salute and returns back to her table with Myles and Cressida. "Ah, don't worry, kid. It was just a misunderstandin' really hard to flirt and do all of that at a rock show when you can barely be heard. Don't worry, so called nice guys really can be nice, but so called self entitled cunts really only serve themselves and get their rocks off on treating other people like shit. Even those in their own circles, y'know? Cressy here? She ain't like that. She is just..well, it is a social experiment. She is just curious." She directs this to that table alone.
And Ritter's expression has gone....uncertain. What's going on over there? There's the faintest edge of....something. Confusion, envy....he's let his hand fall, but he's still gazing at Jesse and now Amadei expectantly.
"Congratulations on your first rock show then, I'm glad to be the guy that gave you one. Serena this...really is what I do. A lot of travel, but I'd trade it for nothing." Brand turns his back to the bar and spots Leslie. Grinning to the woman, he sets her shirt down on the bar and waves the stage hand with her CDs over, but first, Dora and Tock suddenly dominate his attention. Beer in hand, he slips up and reaches out, offering a hug to each of them in turn. "No it's okay, I love you two, you've got priveleges of interrupting. Thank you. It means a lot to me that you all came." Brand then looks to Tock, brows lifting. "Especially you. Thank you for coming."
A dark, shadowing figure slips into the back of the bar. She seems to be dressed all in black; black Dickies, black boots and a black oversized hoodie with the drawn up over her head, leaving her facial features deep in shadows. The only thing distinguishable about her is the large, white 'SOUTHSIDE' embroidered on the back of the hoodie. The figure takes up a table in the darkness closest to the door and looks to find a server who can bring her a drink as she watches to see who is here and whether the band is still about.
"Jesse," Jesse says to Amadei. "Nice to meet you, Amadei. You're not leaving, are you?" He's not in any hurry to let go this armful of tale, pale, hellyes. "I just got here." Cue a broad smile that glints in his eyes. "I'm headed to the bar to meet my man. Eventually. Want to come with?"
Tock nods first in greeting to Serena and then to second what Dora says to Brand. ???Yes, congratulations on that very impressive performance. Thank you for sharing with us.??? She has no rock concert lingo to speak of and might as well be talking to a cellist after a lovely solo. ???I also wanted to ask for a...meeting is a strong word. Time to talk to you, later sometime. About your announcement and something Thury passed on to me. I should also talk to Myles, but he's a little...caught up over there.??? Even she knows not to step in on certain things, seriously.
Dig? Cookie? Some of the words Myles is throwing at Cressida just seems to confuse the hippy further if her expression is any judge. She's sporting one of those little smiles, those 'I don't know what is going on' smiles, and she bobs her head in nod. Considering that her messy locks are only precariously held in place stop her head by one lonely pencil masquerading as a hair-stick, a few of her tresses slip free -- and to Changeling eyes, a few comets escape as well. "My turn! Let me try this flirting stuff," she says. Aaah, so that is what was going on. A flirting lesson. Squaring back her shoulders, she lays her hands along the Abernathy's jaw and declares:
"Sometimes I wanna kiss your face off."
And then she does. Well, not literally. His face stays very much intact. But she does kiss him! POW! Right in the kisser. Letting him go and leaning back in her chair, she cocks a crooked grin. "How did I do with the flirting?" Subtle, Cressida. Very subtle and slick. Soooo smooth.
Leslie smiled back at Brand and took up her shirt and the gifted CDs and decided to leave it at that. She was not entourage material and Brand seemed distracted by all the attention so she quietly sauntered her way out of the club back to her car. It was a good night!
Amadei smiles radiantly at Jesse, warm and sweet and luminous. "Yes. Is he the shy one right behind us?" He doesn't let go, either, undaunted by talk of other men. He's accomodating!
"Oh yeah," Serena replies eagerly to Dora. "I could've went all night," She says, that hint of nostalgia slipping back into her tone. That energized reply doesn't quite cover up her intoxication or those faint hints of exhaustion but she finishes off her drink with gusto anyway. She gives Tock a puzzled look in response to her request but is distracted from a reply as she spots Cressida laying one on her cousin. She resisted the urge to tease Myles and cheer the display but she couldn't help a grin.
"No, we really should. If Thury talked to you, then," Brand tips his head to one side, gathering up the slack of the train of thought, which coalesces into a smile that he offers for Tock. "Yeah. I could actually use some help and a meeting and probably something over coffee." Brand adds, looking over to where Leslie was to find her gone. Oh. Eyes dotting to Serena and Dora, he sips at his beer and catches the sliiiiiiightest curiousity over one of their shoulders at a shirt that reads SOUTHSIDE on the back of it. Brand's attention locks there for a moment while he drinks. His adam's apple bobs up and down while he swallows, then he sets the beer aside and plants a hand on Serena's shoulder. "I've got, like, seventy hellos to get to before I can get out of here. I'm gonna sweep the room and then try to get back to somewhere I can /shower/." Brand laughs softly. "But tea. Coffee. All of it. Soon."
Lyd is applauding both Cressida and Myles. "See! It worked! A little music for the mood, a little liquid courage and BAM!" she pounds her fist on the table. "A kiss! Mwah!"
Jesse glances behind him and says, "The old man who looks like he's just about to blow a gasket? Yeah, that's him." He turns toward the bar, seamlessly turning his steadying arm into a casual, amiable one-armed hug like one might give an old friend, one he's really comfortable with. "Don't let the murder-brows fool you. He's a kitten." He lifts his chin and calls toward the bar, "Hello, iubit," Sounds like 'you beet.'
Tock nods and smiles at Brand's reply. ???Soon, of course. And I will caffeinate you appropriately. Please, tend to your adoring fans.??? She says the last with a little giggle and a larger sweeping gesture of her arm back toward the room. "I should be getting home. But thank you, again."
Slipping into the bar, shortly behind the shadowy figure that is Kilo, Hoax ambles on in and slips down into a seat beside the Latina. "Hey, isn't that your therapist? You know... the somewhat cute guy married to the older, grumpier one who looks like he really needs to get the stick out of his ass?" He asks, while indicating Jesse across the room with a jerk of the chin.
Amadei looks over at Ritter, too. "We've met before," he states gravely to Jesse, draping his free arm over the other guy's shoulder just as casually. "I played violin for him. I can never tell what he wants."
Serena turns back to Brand and gives him a playful smile. "Oh yeah, it was great as firsts go. You and your band left a good impression." She seems to pick up on his investment in his art however and continues in a more serious tone. "I'm glad you've found something you love, that you can put throw yourself into and get lost in." Her expression seems almost wistful as she speaks actually but it's gone a moment later when Brand puts his hand on her shoulder and seems to spot someone familiar. "Yeah, don't let me hold you up. Go on then, I do expect all of that now you know." She waves to Tock at the mention of leaving. "Take care, Tock! One of these days I'll have to drop by that Air Field."
"Everybody learns something new, every day." Myles chatters, obviously nervous in his post-being-bold state - gladly accepting another drink from Lyd, he looks around the bar quickly - as if seeing everyone else is here for the first time. "Cheers to that!" A hand raises, and he wipes at the cheek below his tinted shades. Is he crying? Walking homage to Roy Orbison that he is right now, he remains soft spoken - giving Serena a wave as he sees his cousin departing.
Tock offers a smile and little wave to Serena. ???Absolutely. Summer is the perfect time. There are air shows on the weekends, sometimes. Have a good night!??? Another wave, and she gathers herself to head back out the door.
Cressida looks incredibly pleased with herself -- is she pleased about kissing Myles specifically or her masterful command of flirting skills? Yes. Leaning forward, she pokes around various glasses on the table until she finds one that still has some booze in it. Tipping it back, the glowing hippy drains its contents before she moves on to the next glass. "We should flirt more often," she tells Myles, poking him in the side with her elbow. "I could tell you about all the other things I want to do." Ahem! CRESSIDA! Won't someone think of the children?! ...never mind, there are no children here. It's a bar. Duh.
Ritter has this faintly suspicious pokerface, for just a moment. Mostly he's kind of giving Jesse that helpless puppydog look. "'lo, love," he says, simply. He doesn't seem to've noticed the Sin-Eaters. Hard to see anything else when Jesse's there.
"It's the hardest part about being friends with me at one of these things. It's like speed dating." Brand reaches back behind the bar and motions to a bottle. Setting down a large bill, he collects the bottle and two glasses, then smiles to Serena and Tock. "Strange but not strangers. Drive safe and text me if you need me." Brand stops, texts a quick few messages, then slinks off across the floor towards Kilo and Hoax. While he goes, he looks over to Lyd and the kissing madness, then upticks his head to Amadei with a quiet smile. Brand tugs his beanie down closer over his eyes and comes to a stop at the edge of Kilo and Hoax's table, setting the bottle and glasses down.
"This isn't an accident." Brand says pointedly. "And neither is this Bushmill's."
Myles reddens as the illustrious Cressida flirts with him, outside of the agreed yet invisible 'we are flirting now' rule bounds. Booze will help him. He leans over to say something softly to her, only a little sheepish. Lyd gets a quick look - if she's fast enough to grab it, it could be read as 'have I made a terrible mistake', or 'please do not shoot me', or perhaps some other form if hard to decipher guilt.
"Oh, I know what he wants," Jesse says in a low, wry tone wrought with innuendo. Then as they draw closer to the bar, he offers Ritter one of those thousand Watt smiles. He only grudgingly releases Amadei so that he can detach and come over to the guy he's only almost married to. He gives Ritter a kiss, sweet and aggravatingly chaste. "You didn't tell me you knew Amadei here. Are you holding back on me? Let's buy him a drink, and by us, I mean you."
Myles mutters "Lets just ... ... the basic theory as a concept? ... don't want ... ah ... you and ... don't want ... ... you ... ... ... uhm... Pay attention to ... It's all okay. ... can talk later ... ... Too loud." to Cressida.
Serena catches Myles' wave and her expression suddenly changes back to that cheshire grin as she offers a little wiggle of her fingers in return. She clearly saw what he and Cressida were just doing and does nothing to hide that fact. She watches Brand go with something that could be envy, or perhaps just another hint of that wistfulness, before turning back to the bar and blending back in with the crowd in those dark colors. She's still there, just enjoying a quiet drink now.
Amadei finishes his umbrella drink, and sets it down, and looks from Jesse to Ritter and back again.
Ritter holds his hand out to Jesse, almost beseeching. Utterly transparent in his open longing, face alight now that Jesse's here. "Of course," he says, obligingly. "And, ah, we met at that party where Guy got so sick," he explains. "If I remember right." Which is not always a given. Then he glances at Amadei, and says, amiably, "What'll you 'ave?"
Kilo glares at Hoax. Yeah, way to take the cool out of her stealthy, mysterious entrance. Mentioning her -therapist-! The girl kicks the mohawked gangster under the table and then smiles pleasantly. "Hush." She warns him, never losing the smile in a perfectly creepy way. And then suddenly Brand is standing there with a really, really nice bottle of whiskey. That's damn hard for the girl to say no to, despite.... everything. And god, there is just so much. "Hey." She says it quite guarded, nodding her agreement; definitely no accident. "This is Hoax. Hoax, this is a Brand." No qualifiers. They can figure each other out, she's sure. "You want to a... sit down for a sec? I mean, you're probably pretty busy and all." She spends some time looking him over. "The fuck did you do to the ink anyway?" She can just see the edges of her work but she can see it's been messed up.
See, Myles? He knows about keeping certain conversations all quiet (-ish) and discreet (-ish). Cressida? She doesn't have that kind of filter. She's just .. out there. Completely and utterly out there. She listens to what he has to say, the slight furrowing of her brow denoting that she isn't quite following along with the concept he's presenting. These advanced, complex social maneuvers, they're too much for her. Pulling in a deep breath, she sits back and digests what was told to her. She tries to make sense of it.
"So what you're saying.." Slooowly. Slowly trying to connect point A to point B, carry the 2, divide by x...
"...is that you /don't/ want to fuck?"
Her eyebrows lift in question and she looks to Myles for confirmation. Did she get that right? Because she doesn't know! She can't tell. People can be really confusing sometimes.
Lyd settles down into the chair opposite the side of the table as snogging Myles and Cressida, drinking from her beer deeply as she lazily looks around the Walk now that things have quieted down. From her slouch she drawls to the pair, "Oh, for fuck's sake, they sell rubbers down the road at the corner store."
Myles hesitates - for a second, really, it looks like he's going to panic - but maybe there's some inkling of extra chutzpah, sparked on by the fevered emotion of the gig tonight. Myles takes a particularly big sip of his drink, then a deep breath, then he turns and takes one of Cressida's hands - only giving Lyd a mid-range mean look before going all soft and caring with Cress. He, unlike she, is discreet regardless in his attempt to navigate the treacherous waters of woo'dom. Who's steering this boat, Myles of Cressida? One could argue they're both totally rudderless.
"Whatever you're having-- you've been clutching at it so hard that it must be good." Amadei's words to Ritter may be slightly sharp, but his tone is very warm.
Jesse settles beside Ritter at the bar, and he says lazily, "Nothing you can buy here legally. I'll have vodka." He then says, "The party where Guy got sick? You'll have to narrow it down." He then says to Amadei, "I'm not surprised he's been keeping another hottie to himself. Typical. Are you from around here?"
"Como quieras, chiquita." Hoax replies with a roll of his eyes being given to Kilo after the kick beneath the table. "Wait 'til we get h--" And suddenly there is someone looking like the stepped out of a rock magazine standing infront of them with a fancy ass bottom of whiskey, who seems to know the lil' Latina. Cocking his head to the side, the mohawked gangster arches an eyebrow curious at the other guy as the introductions are made. Even by the first name alone, with seeing the guy, even though it's not his style of music Hoax can connect the dots. "Brand Walker, right? Tooth and Nail's lead singer?" A questioning look is given to Kilo before he looks back to Brand. "Someone fill me in on how you two know each other?" He asks while offering a hand out to shake. "Name's Hoax, the new-old boyfriend. Going to guess your a friend and client of lil' Kee's here?"
Myles mutters "Maybe ... ... ... ... ... my ... what would ... in it ... me? ... ... Aside from your ... and blinding superiority ... if I ... a ... violet? ... ... flirt with someone it's ... mm absence of explicit- that is to say ... subtle natures ... 'do they won't they' which many people look ... ... ... ... identifying ... the ... ... wants ... presenting it prettily. ... a ... and this isn't ... test but consider what I would ... want ... consider if you want ... then consider it both. ... ... ... ... I ... ... ... ... ... ... really got ... all dixie fried." to Cressida.
"Hey." Brand replies, more curious than defensive, really, but he does extend a hand to Hoax to shake as he moves to sit half of an ass atop a chair across from them. "The Brand Walker, yeah, nice to meet you, Hoax." Brand adds, eyes boggling out a little as he looks down past his beanie-covered, chin-length hair to the tiniest peek of a circular scar in his tattoo work. "That." Brand frowns and reaches to his shoulder and pulls the shirt aside to show to the scars. His jaw hardens and his eyes darken, giving the two a look before he drops the neckline back into place. "Ran into some shit. I heard that you were still around and everything-" Everything. Brand looks from Hoax to Kilo like he knows a few recent details. Brand stares at her for a moment, then looks to the two of them. "Ex-boyfriend." Brand admits. "She deserves dibs on the cover up over her own work, so I'm glad we ran into each other."
Ritter goes bright pink. And on someone that fair, it stands out like a flag. "Sort of an indoor affair," Ritter says, vaguely. "Lights, pounding music." Groping for the word 'rave' and not finding it. HE lifts a hand, gets the bartender's attention. Whiskey for Amadei, vodka for Jesse. And he's finally finishing his own, and getting another.
"I was born here a long time ago," Amadei nods to Jesse, "But I left for a long time, too. I've been settling back in. And yes-- we walked in and then buckets of blood started flying around. I noped the hell out of there, and then those two staggered out. And no-- sadly, he hasn't kept me at all. Said he was keeping himself for his lover." He doesn't sound offended, just amused. His gaze shifts over to Brand and Hoax and Kilo, and lingers there for a few moments: he's aware, just a little, of some of the history there.
Lyd is anything BUT discreet when it comes to some things. Other things? Well, the nature of her alignments speaks for itself. Subtle occurs when necessary. She starts crooning in a voice that isn't half bad, "Fooooled around and feeeell in loooove. yes we fooooled around and feeeeel in looooooove."
Serena looks over her shoulder and watches the goings on between Brand, Kilo, and Hoax much like Amadei does. There's a lack of recognition from her compared to the Fairest but that same curiosity is certain there. There's an obvious significance to their conversation, just going by expressions made. Lyd's little ditty does get her attention as well however, and a small, amused smirk from her though.
Cressida squints. She squints the squint to end all squints and it is a Squint of Utter Confusion. Myles has managed to get her completely turned around and she no longer can tell up from down, left from right, backwards from straight ahead. He whispers to her some more but from the look of things? It only perplexes her further. Lyd shouts about condoms but the hippy pipes up:
"Oh, those won't be needed."
For, you know. REASONS.
But back to the matter at hand. The woman, faintly glowing to all eyes but rather brilliantly twinkling to Changelings in particular, leans back and shakes her head at her Abernathy companion. "I don't understand at all what you want? Why do I have to guess? Why can't you just tell me?" Gosh. Flirting is complicated and /hard/. "Are you saying I am suppose to ask you if you want to bone in pretty words?" Alright. She'll give it a try. Deep breath.
"Doth you desire to doeth the horizontal hokey-pokey with me?"
Jesse tilts his head coyly as he looks at Ritter. "Is that so." Such loyalty earns the older Immortal a kiss. In public even, and what's Ritter gonna do about it? "I remember the laundry from that party," he says. He give Ritter a squeeze around the waist. PDAs, PDAs everywhere. Then Lyd's singing reaches his ears and he laughs. Then he spies Kilo and Hoax, and he calls over, "Hey, little Latina woman." Then, to Amadei, "I've only been here a year. It grows on you."
Ooops! Kilo might have neglected to mention to her new-old boy friend Hoax that she dated the Rock Star God, Brand Walker, once upon a time. But those were strange days indeed. Now? Now it seems they were going to be all business. Right? Oh yes, right. "Dibs, yeah. Well, I'll be damned if some 2-bit punk with a gun is going to go in and fuck up the rest of my work. I'll fix it so it gets fixed right, yeah?" She nods with a bit of a warning look. As if she's in any sort of position to negotiate here. Happily though, she grabs for a glass and holds it out to get a little of that amazing whiskey. "Just let me know when and we'll get it taken care of. What happened anyway?" And then suddenly, something occurs to her. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to know about a certain 'gift' of amazing equipment that might have shown up at our shop recently... would you?" She eyes him suspiciously.
Myles looks, well, practically dizzy now - turning to point at Lyd, in lieu of a pocket full of sand thrust at the woman's face so he can make an escape, he croons back at her - drunk, cheerful, obviously deflecting. "It used to be when I'd see a person that I liked, I'd get out my book and write down their name -- but when the grass got a little greener on the other side..." Here he does a comically over exaggerated frown, giving double thumbs down as he rocks back and forth to an unheard beat. But there is a tear on his cheek regardless. Or sweat. Or spit. Oh shit - Cressida has not gone off topic.
Like a deer in headlights, Myles stays still - caught looking at Cressida with an expression of Total Uncertainty. There is no one to save Myles. He has brought this on himself. "...Aahh..." Not an answer. He swallows twice, caught between thinking and saying. Soo vulnerable, this one.
Ritter is even pinker. PDA. And they aren't even in a gay bar. "Guy fainted," he says, laconically. "Reminded 'im of....ah....another bad experience." But he settles an arm around Jesse's waist with a kind of shy pride. Look, no one's coming to burn them at the stake. The new millennium is wonderful.
"Well, he might just not have been into me... And yeah, I tried for most of my life to escape it," Amadei remarks dryly, "Before accepting its inevitability." He nods warmly to Serena, because he suddenly notices she's there! "And your friend had passed out, yes. They didn't need my help, though."
What was that crash? Oh, Lyd is on the floor having fallen out of her chair, hugging her sides in a fit of laughter. Her tiny feet are kicking the floor in those knee-high Doc Martens. It isn't cruel, just bemused surprise and she is TOTALLY on team Myessida. "YES, YES FOR FUCK'S SAKE, YES, HE SAYS FUCKIN' YES."
Taking his hand back, Hoax leans a little bit over the table as Brand begins showing off the ink and the scarring that mars the work of art. "Damn shame, that." He says with a nod before sitting back and finishing out a back of Marlboro's and lighting one up. The pack is offered to the other two before being put back, leaving him free to take a drag, causing the cherry to flare bright red. "So you're another Ex, huh?" Does he seems upset, pissed off, calm and cool, or anything at all? It's hard to really tell with the mohawked gangster. But he's not getting all up in arms, so that's something. Right? "Good thing she didn't leave town or you'd be stuck with some second rate hack job working on you. She's probably the best ink-slinger I know, and defeinitely my best student in that regard. I'm sure she'll fix you up just fine."
> Brand to Here <=====================================================
Rolled 5 Successes for an exceptional success.
< 4 7 9 9 9 10 10 >
=============================> Manipulation + Subterfuge [No Flags] <
Jesse arches a brow. "He'd be blind or a fool if he wasn't." Talking about poor Ritter like he's not there. "I know what he's like. Trust me, he was into you." He rubs Ritter's back absently. Good fiance. "Is that the night you played violin for him? What kind of music do you play?"
Ritter rolls his eyes at that, mutely embarassed. But he doesn't flinch away from Jesse's touch. Jesse knows him all too well. Nor does he argue.
> Hoax to Here <======================================================
Rolled 2 Successes
< 2 2 2 2 3 3 4 5 7 7 7 8 10 >
====================================> Wits + Empathy + 6 [No Flags] <
> Lyd to Here <=======================================================
Rolled 3 Successes
< 2 2 5 7 7 9 9 10 >
================================> Wits + Subterfuge.Lies [No Flags] <
> Kilo to Here <======================================================
Rolled 1 Success
< 1 2 6 6 7 9 >
=================================> Wits + Subterfuge + 1 [No Flags] <
"A different night." Amadei swirls the contents of his glass as he speaks mainly to Jesse. "He's interesting when he's not closed off." He doesn't mind talking about Ritter, either; once again, it might be cruel, but there's still a gentle undertone there. "I know he loves you very much, at the very least, and that he's been around long enough for that to really mean something... and that loving a man in public might still be strange."
Serena finishes her glass off and gently places it down on the table. She has that distant look in her eyes again and slowly pushes herself back to her feet. Serena gives on last look back toward Brand and the curious pair he's talking with before heading for the exit. "Yeah, it was quite a night," Serena offers a tipsy little wave to Myles, Cressida, and Lyd on her way out.
Would Brand be the kind of person to send an anonymous gift of tattoo supplies to Forbidden Arts? Of course he would. Especially after learning that she'd become widowed and the self-affluent rockstar millionaire had the tiniest moment where his black heart beat two sizes larger and- "No." Brand shakes his head wistfully, lifting his shoulder just a little bit. "I figured you and your people would want some space. Said I'd respect that." Brand nods, as if dotting the end of a sentence, that really is a well-placed lie. "But yeah, if it's fuckin' cool I'll text ahead of time and tell you guys the story about it while I'm getting cut. I'll bring something to drink and we'll catch up on old times so long as an ex doesn't end up getting dicks drawn all over him, arright?" Brand flashes his teeth to the two of them, brows slanting harshly.
Brand blinks, then seems to remember something.
"She said good things about you, Hoax." Brand looks to the man and slaps his palm down on the table, starting to lift up in preparation to leave. The clap rattles the glasses. "Have this bottle on me and call me. I'll show you the work she did on my back when I'm in the shop. We made it five minutes without guns. We did good. I'll see you two the fuck around."
Cressida just sits there, looking at Myles and waiting for an answer that's a little more clear than 'aaaah'. But that's all she gets! She lifts her shoulders, lifts her hands, everything going up in a helpless shrug of 'I don't know what's going on'. Twisting, she looks over at Lyd rolling around and laughing on the floor. "Does he?" she asks, her eyebrows pinched up. It didn't sound like a 'yes'. It sounded like an 'aaaah'.
So she reaches out.
She pokes Myles' knee.
"Well, you know where I live." He does! Sorta. She drew him a very, very, very vague map that is pretty much certain to get him lost in the woods and probably eaten by a bear. "If you /do/ want to have sex sometime, stop by. It's really fun. I'll make sure to put the cats outside; sometimes people don't like it when they watch." Huh-what? Before she can explain THAT comment, she rises to her feet and waves to Lyd. "I'm heading home. See ya later!"
"He's mortified right now," Jesse says with a delighted grin. He strokes Ritter's short hair at the nape of his neck. Good fiance. Just grin and bear it. "It feels like we've been chasing each other around the world for a hundred years. I'm finally thinking it's time to settle down. I suppose." He takes a generous swallow of his vodka. "Amadei, that's Italian, right?"
Myles laughs nervously, obviously uncomfortable, but without any cavalry to back him up, the nerdy greaser is left in a classic pincer movement of Romantic Harassment from Lyd and Cress. How did he get himself into this kerfuffle? Alcohol, short sightedness, and obvious lack of social skills to back up his brooding flirtation - after whatever it was he actually said to the starry eyed hippie he's sitting with. The hubris. It seemed so harmless, so academic at the time. "...Cressida, you're really swell..." Careful, caaaareful. "...I just, ah, as I am." A hand motions to his body, apologetically even. His cheek is wiped as he tries to navigate. Wait! She's getting up to leave - sweet relief, he can dodge this bullet. Or?...
"I was already planning on visiting!" Myles blurts, over-explaining weakly. "This doesn't change anything!" Turning to Lyd, he tries to further explain himself, fidgeting. "I have something for her, this is unrelated to this evening. It's unrelated." He sounds genuine - but he's so flustered, so out of his element, that he just comes across as making excuses.
Lyd has risen from her spot on the floor to peer two green mortal eyes at Cressida and Myles, pierced brow waaaaay on up there. "Ooooh, I see!" She jumps up and points at the two of them. "He has 'something' to 'give' you." complete with air quotations marks made with her fingers. "Either way, it was 'swell' seein' the two of you again."
"About time," Ritter says, rather hoarsely. Still pink to the ears. "And it 'as felt like about a century." Literally - from the trenches of the Somme to twenty first century America. His phone goes off, and he checks it, wincing. "'ve got to go deal with this. Panicky residents in charge." A sigh, and Ritter's rising, but not before he's kissed Jesse on the corner of the mouth. Absurdly chaste and shy, but....hey, baby steps. "I'll be just outside."
Kilo smirks. "Five minutes together and no one ended up in a fiery pile of ashes. I consider this a victory my friend." Of course the sex tape thing... that's still another matter entirely. But why go messing up a great evening with details. Details Schmetails - right? "Aaaight. We'll set it up. No dicks will be drawn. We'll fix up the ink and you can tell us the story. Hey vato, thanks for the whiskey." She raises the glass his way and gives him a nod of her head in approval. All in all? That went exceedingly well. No one died. It couldn't have gone better!
"Latin." Amadei sounds maybe just the little bit cagey, now that Jesse's turning the focus on him. He watches Ritter rise, but just smiles at him. "I can go if you like."
"That makes sense," Jesse says to Amadei. Then he returns the kiss Ritter gives him, equally chaste. No reason to destroy the poor man's soul entirely here and now. "If you have to go in, I'll see you at home," he murmurs. He then tells Amadei, "It's not you. He's an ER doctor. Happens all the time."
While Brand may have heard good things about him, Hoax has heard nothing in regards to the Rockstar. Leaving him glancing between the other man and Kilo, all the while keeping a composed, blank expression. "I'll try and keep myself from the temptations of marking one of lil Kee's Ex's with multiple dicks scatted about, but I make no promises." Teasing. Yes, keep it light and friendly. This isn't an awkward situation at all, especially not with those two Immortals within the same room, who seem to have it out for him. So the key here is to play nice and act 'normal'. When Brand gets up Hoax gives him a nod and even a little wave while saying "See you around." before turning to eye the bottle of whiskey, but making no move to open it.
"I'm glad that I'm not attached to a hospital," Amadei agrees. "Calls at the worst times, and he seems to be far more noble than I."
"Oh, are you worried about being all limp-y?" Cressida says when Myles gestures to himself and stop-starts over his words. The hippy reaches up behind her ear and plucks the joint from it, taking a moment to press it between her lips but not lighting it. "Aww, you shouldn't stress about that. You can be on the bottom, I'll be on top. I'll take care of everything. No problem!" She just chit-chatters away, all ease and friendliness. They could be talking about anything: the weather, the time of day, any number of things.
Anyway, she is on her way out! The star has reached her interacting-with-people limit for the day and needs to retreat to the woods.
Striding toward the exit after speaking of sexual logistics with Myles -- poor thing -- Cressida gives Lyd a sing-song-y holler. "See you later, alligator!" Turning to the side, she bumps the door open with her hip before finishing the refrain: "In a while, crocodile!"
"He is," Jesse says. He comfortably moves into the space Ritter's departure has freed up. No more stuffy Englishman between them, he chats with Amadei more directly, though he keeps an eye on the happenings going on in the joint. "Noble to a fault, but he's cute and patient." He nods toward Myles, then tells Amadei, "Guys like him are the reason I can afford a houseboat."
"He's all right," Amadei says of Myles. "Well, mostly. As well as anyone could be given..." And he shrugs one shoulder, and takes a drink of his drink. "We went to school together. He was pretty athletic and popular back then." How times change!
Myles practically bristles as Lyd starts taunting - blushing a particularly intense shade of scarlet. "That's not what I meant, you know that!" He's flailing a little bit, downing the last of A Drink - not his, but someones half-discarded booze at any rate. His now. Why, he's as uncomfortable as Ritter is over in his scenario - perhaps more - albeit in his own shade of weird. "This is why it's a stupid trick!" Huh? "Ooooh, you bested me - very crafty, oh yes, I see your game now..." At least he seems good natured and not... Irate. Not now. Thank goodness for booze. That doesn't stop the fact he's tremendously embarrassed, though, regardless. He changes tactic - surely playing to his weaknesses will help...
"Lyd, I've had a really tough couple of days, ya dig? I don't need to go 'round red onions like this and--..." Myles has just heard Cressida's parting call. If someone could take out their obviously hidden weapons and smite him down, Myles looks like he'd pay them eighty thousand soul-dollars forever in exchange to get out of this situation. But instead? He just sits there, stunned into silence. A tear literally falls down his cheek, because why not make it worse for himself? Stupid allergies. Yeah.
It is just too much. Lyd can't not say something, the gutterpunk is positively radiating at this point with impish delight. "Limp? Hardly, have you seen the cane he carries? This man has a surplus of wood. A SURPLUS I TELL YOU." She nudges his cane with the toe of her boot. "See? Positively erect and rigid. Firm."
There we go - Myles is pushed over the edge by Lyd. His head drops, and he full on face-palms. There is no escape. There is only suffering.
Lyd slides up to Myles and wraps an arm around him, planting a big ol' kiss on the man's cheek before nuzzling her nose against that spot. Hell, it doesn't even sting with her toxic Changeling self for once! "I only tease. Y'know you're near and dear to my heart? And, for what its worth? I hear its more than worth it." She jerks a thumb in the direction that Cressida went. "So, go play in the woods sometime."
Brand smirks back to Kilo when she does. She's got that cheek piercing that makes such a smirk over-pronounced and easy to notice. With a bit of grit to his jaw, Brand passes the opportunity for cheesy smiles and smoke and mirrors. He gives her a quick once over, then nods. "At least I updated from whiteboy." Brand ticks his head, then pats Hoax on the upper arm as Brand crosses over his newly emptied chair and kicks it back into place. "I can at least promise the truth about who fucked up the artwork and how they didn't get away with it. The rest is just side chatter. Be safe out there. My number's the same, Kee. If you need it, call it. Nice seeing you two. Let's try for an hour next time." Brand turns and rubs at his chest, stepping in the direction of Myles, Lyd, and Amadei now, watching Cressida take off.
"Lyd. Amadei. I'm going to go home and power-wash the concert funk the fuck off." Brand flashes a tooth. "Hugs for the road?"
"Considering," Jesse echoes. "See, the thing to do is call their bluff. Worst case scenario, you get laid. See, this is the kind of thing I should be counseling people about, not their childhood traumas." Then Brand The Damned Star speaks Amadei's name, and Jesse's brows lift. Whaaat. Hugs are being offered? Jesse squares his shoulders and tries to look cool. In his defense, he's a natural.
Amadei chuckles at Jesse, and then rises, and holds out an arm to Brand, as accomodating as ever. "For you? Anytime." His low, deep voice goes as smooth as the finest damned silk.
Myles had looked up, Lyd giving him a peck that doesn't even kill him. "...You're not wrong Lyd, but I feel like walking into the ocean with a pocket full of stones." He murmurs - blush all permanent. A deep sigh - he shakes his head, like he's just gotten out with his life after 5 rounds of fighting with a rabid bat pack. "Can you walk me out? I gotta get an uber home, and... Dream this away." Reaching for his cane, Myles has been mortified-into-submission. Just agree, just nod, just make excuses. "Music does weird things to people."
The Gremlin stands to hug Brand, giving him a smooch in addition to the squeeze of a hug. "Was a pleasure. Thanks for doin' this!" she singsongs before pivoting sharply on heel to collect Myles and help him out to his uber. "Simply empty your pockets then.."
Myles blows a raspberry in Lyd's directions. "If I wake up in three hours and Cress is standing above me bathed in moonlight, I'm going to get you back so good..." Spiteful little quip, or drunk Wizened fantasy? Open for interpretation. The young man starts moving, limping to the door - defeated, no doubt not for the first time, by the complicated mechanics of the heart.
Kilo nods at Brand. "Yeah well, When you act like a white-boy..." She smirks at him and looks around to see just who all she's going to be insulting with that comment. Grabbing the whiskey she hops up as Brand moves to walk away. "Thanks, I'll call, we'll set it up." Normally she'd have the person call her but she's just fine with being in control of this situation. And then she is making to slink off back out into the night with her mohawked gangster boyfriend in tow.
Less /schmoozy/ than normal, Brand zombie walks over to Amadei and slinks an arm around the man's back and pulls him into a hug. There, he lifts a hand to Jesse, a bit of a stranger, in a wave, and then reliquishes the Amadei time back to the man with a smile. "Thanks for coming. Truly." Brand says to Amadei, then turns and heads over to Lyd, wrapping the woman up in a hug with a smooch to her own cheek. "We'll do it again, with more Poison covers." Brand smirks and steps back, ruffling a hand over the top of his head. He turns for the back door, where the 'super speshul' parking of his car is, smiling to Kilo on his way out with a wink. "Kee...trust me. I'm one of the whitest motherfuckers you'll ever, ever know. Just accept that." and then...he's gone.