interstellar5555 | Welcoming Atmosphere

Entry tags:

Welcoming Atmosphere

Who: Defying Atmosphere
What: First impressions
When: Mid-January
Where: DA's penthouse
Warnings: awkwardness and poor hygiene

It's been weeks since Defying Atmosphere made their last performance. Public appearances are limited, but Greg and Meril have been boosted to fame as the faces of the band. Any public memory of Weasel, Gaige, Lora, and Krieg seems to have vanished all together. Kimiko keeps telling them not to worry their pretty little heads about it; just keep signing the merchandise she gives them and get to work. She knows what she's doing.

And clean this place up, you pigs.

They have not cleaned this place up. Rather than the wild mess expected of the rockstar lifestyle, the penthouse more closely resembles a college dorm room, complete with soda cans and pizza boxes built up since the last time the maids swept through. What isn't covered with junk food wrappings is stacked with pages upon pages of half-finished songs and diligently signed headshots.

[[ooc: vague "mid-january" label for assuming not everyone is moving in right at the same time. Make your entry headers at will!]]

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It's one thing to be internet famous, to a point; it's entirely another to be signed on to an extant and extremely popular band as a new member. Rarity can't help but be excited as she opens the door to the band penthouse - the penthouse, she thinks, taking a moment to savor the luxury of the word - and looks inside.

To her credit, she does not scream. Or cry. Or make a scene. And the look of utter horror on her face doesn't last more than a moment or two before she plasters a smile over it. This is her new band, and she will make a good first impression.

(She'll also take the Do Not Disturb sign off the door and discreetly slip it in her bag. It's a step forward, at least.)

"Hello," she says, working on keeping that smile up. "Can any of you tell me which room is mine?"

...Ah man, he knew something was supposed to happen today.

Hastily shoving some laundry under the table, as if that small and highly belated effort will help, Greg brushes off some of the chip residue from his shirt and hops to his feet.

"Oh, hey! You must be Rarity! Great to finally meet you in person, love the 'tube vids. I'm uh, Mr. Universe--Greg, offstage, hah." He doesn't hesitate in taking her hand to shake. If he's friendly enough, he can make up for the shoddy appearance, right? Yeah. Totally.

Rarity shakes his hand, still smiling. Normally, she'd bask in the compliments paid to her by the Greg Universe. Normally, she'd be flattered, starstruck even.

But normally didn't include this amount of garbage, and she needed a moment to...compose herself, as it were.

"Lovely to meet you, Greg. Now, can you please tell me which room is mine? It's been a long day already, and I wouldn't mind a moment or two to freshen up."

"Oh... sure! We'll have time later. Umm, I think you're in..." He catches himself before namedropping her predecessor. Not a good way to welcome someone. "...Eheh. This way."

The individual room is thankfully untouched by their lethargic filth, and fits properly with Virgo's usual refinement. "Lemme know if you need anything! I'll be... out here."

Rarity isn't sure she wants to ask what she's in. Luckily, it seems to be a very nicely made up room, if somewhat devoid of flair. "Thank you. You don't need to worry about me; I'll be out in just a bit."

The door closes behind him, and she counts to a very slow ten - long enough for him to leave - and flings herself on the bed, making sure her face is firmly pressed into a pillow before wailing. Very loudly.

Anyone who had stayed near her door would be able to hear overly dramatic crying and make out the occasional phrase, because pillows don't block out everything: "horrible," "awful," "how can anyone live like this?," and "it's a prank! It must be a prank!...oh, it's too cruel to be a prank!" can all be heard in between sobs and wails.

After about ten minutes, a few of which are silence, the door opens and Rarity strides out, hair and makeup picture perfect and a smile on her face. Investing in the waterproof stuff was evidently very much worth it. "Thanks again - I did need that time alone. Do we have anything planned for the group?"

Greg isn't someone who lurks around listening in on people who want private time; he leaves her be, hopeful and excited for their future collaboration as a band. From a distance, he occasionally catches the distant sound of muffled wailing. Either the pressure of fame has gotten to her in record time, or... oh.

By the time Rarity reemerges, Greg's made a small effort to clean up. It's only been a few minutes, and he's not very good at it, but at least some of the garbage is getting consolidated to one area.

"Uh, yeah, no prob." His returned smile is sheepish. He really hoped for a better first impression than that. "Um, well, now that everyone's here, Kimiko's got a press circuit lined up. Returning with flair, and all..."

Rarity can't help but be grateful for Greg's effort, small as it is; it shows her that at least the state of the penthouse isn't malicious, just...apathetic. It's better, at the very least.

She'd offer to help, but...ew.

Instead, she focuses in on the conversation - it's a bit easier to handle. "That does make sense. Do we have an image we're trying to promote? We do want our style to support it, of course, but we don't want to match." As far as she was concerned, matching was synonymous with trying too hard.. "Ooh! I know - space!" She gestures grandly at the ceiling, then glances towards Greg. "We haven't done that before, have we? I don't want to repeat a theme, and it's not too played out, provided we put our own spin on it. We do have the right name for it, after all."

Greg barely holds back a laugh--that was a joke, right? He doesn't know her enough to have a feel for her sense of humor, but he can't imagine anyone asking him that in earnest. "I think we've touched on it. It's sorta my thing."

He tucks a can flat soda into a bag of chip crumbs before giving her his full attention. "We never really figured out a look for that, though. I've got my star thing going, and everyone else just went with what worked for them, you know?" If they all look cool, that's enough of a look, isn't it?

Rarity looks pained at that explanation. She's going to have her work cut out for her here, isn't she. "Greg." She tries to keep her tone light, because it will not do to patronize the band lead ten minutes after her arrival. First impressions go a long way, and she does not want to wreck hers. "When I say image, I mean everything: a cohesive look, complimentary outfits and possibly instrument skins or decals, sets and themes for onstage numbers, and maybe even a themed album, all pulled together and perfectly balanced, screaming that this," she gestures grandly, "is what Defying Atmosphere is all about." Because that is how you create an image.

"So when I ask if we've done space, I mean have we done it-" She mentally scratches out right - no need to imply that Greg has been wrong before - and replaces it. "-all the way."

Boy, she's excited about this, isn't she. That's good! It's a great sign. Passionate. Greg just wasn't expecting the enthusiasm to come from this angle. He scratches at his hair.

"Nnnnnot since I was solo." He grins weakly, shrugging. "Everyone's gotta get behind a thing like that, and I don't want to step on anyone's toes." Greg's glad to be in a band, glad to be working with people and getting different ideas, but he's not the best at organizing them all into one cohesive concept. For someone who's the lead, he sure doesn't like coming off as in charge. "I'm all for it, though!"

The lack of enthusiasm in Greg's response is disappointing, to say the least. She hears him out with one eyebrow raised: he may be a fantastic musician, but he does not seem to be a hands-on leader. Well, somebody has to take charge of the band's aesthetic, and it might as well be her. "Oh, I'm certain we can get everyone in the band on board. Kimiko, too. After all, it is the best way to be recognized."

Greg's gotten plenty of looks like that in his life, and more scathing. Less often since becoming famous, but he's learned to ignore it all the same. Instead, Greg grins back, bouncing on the heels of his feet. "Heck, sounds awesome to me already. Nothing like space to make a comeback on a cosmic level!" Were she going for a different theme, he might be a little more reluctant, but Mr. Universe never turns down a chance to think about space.

That's better. If she can get the band leader on board, then it shouldn't be too difficult to convince everyone else. The only unknown here is Kimiko, and hopefully she'll be able to see how necessary a cohesive image is to the band's comeback. "That's the spirit!"

And then, because she simply cannot help herself - and because she's having trouble finding unoccupied places to step: "How often do the maids come?"

"Oh. Uhhh. Yeah." He kicks at a few sad, limp paper napkins. "They come by daily, usually. We just... h-here, let me..."

He trots over to the door, looking to the knob. "...The, uh, Do Not Disturb was up, I thought... Mer must've grabbed it." He recomposes himself with a clap of the hands, turning back to Rarity. "So, great! They should be in tomorrow."

Rarity attracts Marty's attention (finally) from the nasty floors of their new dorm. He looks over to her, offering a smile that matches hers...only it's a hell of a lot more true. It's apparent Marty is pretty fine with their living conditions, which may or may not say a lot about him.

You should see his room.

"So you're new here too?" He asks, voice light and chippy. "Heavy. What're you playin'?"

He seems to like it down there, and it's horrifying. Still, she keeps the smile up and keeps her eyes on him, not on any of the other...debris surrounding him. She will make this work. "Electric violin, though I'm vocals as well. Now, please, if you'd be so kind as to show me which room is mine..."

"Jesus, do we have B.O or somethin'?" He means that in a joking way! The fact that she is more than uncomfortable enough with their surroundings goes right by his head. But he won't avoid that question. It would be kind of mean, right?

Marty shrugs, looking to one of the hallways nearby. "I guess we just pick a room? Or maybe they set in little letters for us. Kinda like what they do at fancy hotels."

Wait. Wait a minute. This is their new member?

Meril heaved herself up from her slouch, knocking her computer mouse to the floor in her haste to sit up. "What -- are you -- Alana?" Meril had made a point of noting their new band member's real name, since she herself had occasionally been confused for 'Lenneth' even behind the scenes and it always annoyed her.

"I am, yes!" The woman who gets up off the couch looks disheveled, yes, but nowhere near as messy as the room around them. "And you're Meril, yes?" Rarity had done her homework, at least.

Disheveled, definitely, but Meril never needed an excess of makeup or conditioner to keep herself looking presentable, fortunately. Self-consciously, she brushed off a few crumbs from her t-shirt.

What did this mean? Was she no longer to be the gratuitous fanservice of the group? Not that she would complain about that directly, but if she no longer had that to keep her in the band... was this preliminary to dismissing her as well?

"I am, yes. Not that you needed to ask." If nothing else, no one -- no one else had ankle-length silver hair like she did. "I am sorry, we were not well-informed of when you would arrive. Greg and I have gotten into something of a langour...."

There really was no way to respond to that politely - not when the common area was a veritable minefield of garbage. Rarity just smiles, trying to keep it from getting too sheepish. "I- yes. But I am looking forward to working with you!" Keep it positive; freak out later. Priorities.

It could have been worse!

"I am looking forward to that as well. We have been idle for months now, while we waited to see what our overall direction would be." Meril could at least smile, however faintly, because now they knew that she and Greg would not be split up. "Having something to do again will make both of us feel better."

"Well, it looks like the new overall direction includes violin." Rarity keeps the smile up, doing her best to keep her eyes away from the room at large. "I am looking forward to writing music with you."

"A welcome addition and one I look forward to," Meril said quite truthfully. "I expect you and I will be doing particular work together given the complimentary nature of strings and keyboard... Would you care to adjourn to the practice area?" It was neater.

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Welcoming Atmosphere

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