Sabo (
vivelarevolution) wrote in
interstellar55552016-01-20 02:56 pm
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He comes and goes as he pleases
Who:Cosmic Indulgence
What: The new drummer arrives subtly.
When: January 20th
Where: CI's penthouse
Warnings: None possibly?
So this was the place. Sabo stood in front of the door and rubbed the keys in a gloved hand. Cosmic Indulgence. He can appreciate the name though he wonders if the cosmic means they're high as kites for most of the time. That wouldn't bother him.
It's also late, very late, 3am as a matter of fact, which is by design. The last thing he wants is some big deal made of his arrival... either good nor bad. He just wants to be a drummer with no trouble. Hopefully they won't even notice he's there.
Slotting the key into the lock, he goes in.
What: The new drummer arrives subtly.
When: January 20th
Where: CI's penthouse
Warnings: None possibly?
So this was the place. Sabo stood in front of the door and rubbed the keys in a gloved hand. Cosmic Indulgence. He can appreciate the name though he wonders if the cosmic means they're high as kites for most of the time. That wouldn't bother him.
It's also late, very late, 3am as a matter of fact, which is by design. The last thing he wants is some big deal made of his arrival... either good nor bad. He just wants to be a drummer with no trouble. Hopefully they won't even notice he's there.
Slotting the key into the lock, he goes in.
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Insomnia was a Bitch. Multiply that by four when your nights are plagued by dreams that verged on horrors, and your mind was aspin with anxieties and worries that couldn't be solved by a single person. Having finally fallen asleep at the crack of dawn...
This was obscene.
Lumbering out of his bedroom clad only in a pair of star-studded pink flannel lounge pants and his rapunzel-like hair unbound, Koumei dragged himself to the room that had been Richard's and opened the door without so much of a knock as warning.
There was no slamming of doors, no raised voices or demands. There was just a cold, quiet stare of a man who had seen far too much and had lost the one figure who could have helped him piece the puzzle together.]
....Whomever you are, I suggest you take your practice to another place. The lounges downstairs might be a good spot. Or the lobby.
[Where people might accidentally drop their singles in the cute little fishbowl that lived there.]
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I'm Sabo. I work here now. [he puts the drumsticks in a special case at his feet] Sorry about that... But you look like hell. Want some coffee?
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Hmm. Page really needs to give us proper warning about these things.
[Or, maybe Page did and no one noticed. The man was as annoying as That One Uncle that every family had.]
If coffee's on, I'll take some. Don't bother making it if it's not made yet, though.
[Because he'd just go back to bed if there was no coffee...]
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It was last minute. Coffee's not on but I left some in the fridge if that would suit.
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[He would just....go and shuffle into the kitchen to get it warmed up himself. Clearly this 'Sabo' was keen on meeting everyone. While Koumei still didn't know how this came about, he wasn't going to make a man uncomfortable by being rude.
They may as well get to know eachother until they can get the situation straightened up with Page.]
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[he leaves to warm up the coffee for him and gets a bottle of water for himself before coming back and handing it to him]
You are?
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Thanks. But, I'm not hungover like some of the others probably are. Insomnia is my plague-- always has been.
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I get about five hours myself. [in his opinion sleep is overrated when he could be doing other things, but he's not about to knock this guy's insomnia] Is it a stress thing or is it just some kind of chronic condition?
[sips down the water and absently taps a pencil against the arm of his chair with the other hand]
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[He shrugged, sipping some more at his coffee and enjoying the heat of it in the chilly morning.]
My sleep-wake cycle seems like it's not on a standard twenty-four hour scale, so getting the right amount is a pain. It's always been like this, so I just deal.
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He nods at the explanation of sleep cycles, though. He gets it.]
Just let me know if you need me to shut up, or need some strong coffee. I can wake the dead if I try.
[since he's pulled more than a few all nighters and multi-nighters at that]
What kind of music do you guys play? Is it more slow dreamy indie or more sliding into goth core?
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[And he continued sipping at his drink as the new drummer rattled on, thinking back on his interactions with Richard and what he had seen of this Sabo while lurking on twitter. The question regarding genre was oddly pointed-- and somewhat amusing.]
We've a keytar and Terry does whatever he wants, so we veer closer to the 'electronic' edge of things. Why is Mister Punk-Is-Dead curious?
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To be your drummer of course. I need to study the genre, even if it's not my preference. But you guys seem more freeform than anything. You're practically pirates.
[and he can't help but find charm in that despite their ways]
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Please, don't resort to flattery. Indie is just as dead as Punk-- we just try to have fun with it.
Besides, it's hard not to be a little wild when most of your band is friendly with the Carnies.
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[Everything was dead and money was just a means to an end. What end though was the question]
I think I've pissed off a few of those guys. [they seem like posers to him but then if punk is dead, who isn't to some extent. Even he is. All an image for a goal.]
Think they'll jump me in an alley? [His tone is mildly pleasant when he says this. Not worried about it or looking forward to it]
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[He had a feeling that at least one of them would run their mouths at Sabo's tweet-- the reply was as neutral and pleasant as Sabo's, as if they were discussing the weather.
Because the Carnies fucking shit up was nothing new.]
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[he doesn't know if they belong to Carnie or not though he strongly suspects Lucifer does. He gives a light shrug]
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[Koumei heaved a sigh, wondering how on earth they were going to clean up this mess.]
...There may be nothing we can do to save you. Don't worry; we'll make sure you get a burial with full honors.
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Thanks. We'll see how it works out.
[the quiet thump thump almost like a heartbeat is Sabo working the foot pedal of the bass drum.]
Anyway I really don't have anything against them.
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[Koumei's voice was mild; he closed his eyes to listen to the firm but gentle beat of the drum.]
They don't let things slide like we do-- and they take things pretty personally.
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I'd think less of them if they let things slide. But that doesn't mean I'll hold back. I don't think it'll cause you guys any trouble and I don't mind being the black sheep. Drummers are supposed to be assholes aren't they?
[though it's said in a gentle voice to not disrupt the mood and he drags a fingernail lightly over a cymbal to get a low, hushing sound]
I'll give you guys my hands and my skill, but I won't give up any more of my freedom than I have to.
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You don't need to 'give up' anything. Just show some trust, that's all.
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And showing trust is not antagonizing the Carnage guys?
[though said mildly as to not to break the peaceful mood]
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[He opened his eyes now to regard Sabo steadiy, as if studying the man's reaction and body language for cues that words alone would hide.]
We may seem like a lazy bunch here at Pride, but it's not all parties behind closed doors. I don't want to have to arrange a funeral so early in our association.
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[or at least that what it seems to him. He understands it to an extent. But he refuses to take part in it]
I'll take my own risks. If I pay for them in the end, just have someone toss me in a ditch somewhere.
[a light shrug as he continues the subdued beat. It doesn't really bother him. He doubts he's going to die, but the truth of the matter is] I've got no one who'll miss me.
[but he almost prefers it that way. Less people to be held accountable to]
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[Because Sabo's rationalism and detachment was comfortable and oddly familiar territory for Koumei, as if he had been taking part in such interactions for his entire life.]
I only say these words because there is something strange happening in this building, and anyone who brings too much notice to themselves runs the risk of consequence. You're smart, but you're also 'safe' right now. This isn't your battle to fight.
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