[open] I built this place with broken parts

[traumatizing]

Who: Terry and ANYONE
What: Somebody is opening for another band and it goes a little sideways
When: April 15th
Where: Sinnamon
Warnings: General mediocre horror? Like 'Black Parade promo shoots' level horror. Body horror lite?

[Well after an unfortunate Cheap Sushi incident, Terry is taking the spot as opener for some mid-level band. Generate some goodwill with the label, you know? They're some goth industrial outfit - really good, but never seemed to get far with the label for some reason. Terry can't help but think that's a good thing - and his personal stuff meshes really well. It's a good platform for the band too, something Page is excited about. So he looks good, his music's good, his manager's happy. This is... Not terrible.]

[It's all going great, until the penultimate song. As he plays-- really gets into it, he starts drawing on people in the crowd, and the stage changes around him. Colour drains until it's almost not there at all, and it almost seems colder somehow. A fog rolls in, sitting heavy on the ground, and the lights dim as shadows dance-- marionette like in their movements, but there are no strings, and their bodies are... wrong. Bodies long and slender in ways no human could be. Bodies that bend in ways that must be broken or just plain inhuman. Sometimes there's the glow of blue eyes from the darkness, locked on someone in the crowd as they dance, and just as suddenly they flicker and vanish. As if they were never there to begin with.]

[Ocassionally, he catches someone who's particularly panicked and Terry's gaze snaps toward them. He sings as if for them, calming their nerves and encouraging them to enjoy the show, but for the most part he's totally absorbed in the music. Almost totally unaware of the fact that he's on a stage in front of hundreds of people from behind the synth setup and the microphone.]

[After the show he takes a few minutes to head out to the bar, chatting with fans and talking up the main event. A lot of people came to see him, but Psychopomp are really good, and they deserve the attention. But there's only so many times he can hear about how cool it was and "guess that's why they call you Trauma, huh?" before he has to go backstage.]

[If no one else manages to stop him to chat, he hurries back where he can be alone for a bit. Pulls his shirt off and sits up against a wall with the fresh tee he brought to change into draped over his knees, ostensibly just needing to cool down a bit after an intense set. Totally not because he's extremely freaked out by what just happened and how it feels familiar in all the wrong ways, but totally alien too.]

[Just chillin' with a beer, that's all.]

Comments

[heymcfly]

[ Marty can thank the fact that he's going stircrazy for his reason on being out tonight. Fainting in public, being asked to leave Virgo entirely...things are kind of weird. Things like this have just started, and already he's wishing for the days where he could just hang out with his bandmates. Nobody was talking about leaving, and nobody was getting weird magic powers. They were all just happy and doing what they did best!

The music is what first draws him in. Then it's the size of the crowd. This guy is rocking out to a song that isn't really Marty's style, but the crowd is loving it. And the guy who's rocking out is doing everything the right way. Smoke machines, really good marionette dancers, the whole bit. To be honest, Marty's surprised the guy isn't literally on fire, because his performance definitely is. It's good!

He's too far back to notice how odd things are, though. Too out of the group to notice the few people that panic, only to be calmed just a second or two later. Marty just stands back and enjoys the show.

Coincidence takes him to the same bar, where he takes the opportunity to order himself a little something. Normally, Marty isn't a booze kind of guy; something about the image of alcohol and drinking it just doesn't sit well with him. Today is asking for it, though. Why the hell not?

It doesn't take much to prompt the bartender to give him a drink- he has fame to thank for that. He doesn't take a single sip of it until he sees what looks like the same guy from the performance earlier slink backstage. Somebody had a huge crowd around him before. Must have been the same guy. He takes one sip, two, before following him around the back.

Don't mind Marty following you. He's got some questions! ]

Was that you playin' on the set before? Jesus, how'd you manage to get props like that?

[traumatizing]

[Oh, it's the puffy pants guy. Terry looks up at Marty, a little tired, but one can just chalk that up to post-show fatigue.]

Uh... [Quick, think of something.] You know, the label handles all that stuff.

[Nailed it.]

[heymcfly]

Seriously? [ Marty tilts his head to the side. He'll bite! ] But you had a say in that stuff, right? You had to at least say what you wanted and what you didn't!

[ He tilts his head. ] Right?

[traumatizing]

[Dammit.]

[Uhhh. It's just like staging for any show right? Right. Okay, he can lie about that. It's more believable than "I think I'm developing magic powers that might have something to do with music" at any rate.]

I mean-- I take it all to set designers and stuff and they just kinda... take it from there.

[heymcfly]

Heavy. Tell your designers they're doin' their job right.

[ Marty hoped he was with Virgo, because he was definitely going to get these guy's contacts so he can keep in touch. If Marty had that much stuff to work with when he jammed by himself, he would be all over the place. Like, perfectly. ]

Do you got their numbers on you? I gotta hit them up. I mean, if it's okay.

[ He shrugs. ] Not sure how my guys would feel about this.

[traumatizing]

Uh. Yeah, sure. I'll text my manager. See if they know.

[In actuality, he digs out his phone and fires off a text to Yuffie in response to some nonsense she texted him earlier. He feels a little bad just straight up lying to this guy, especially when he's so nice, but you gotta do what you gotta do so no one knows you're actually a music wizard of some kind. Terry thinks he's convincing at least?]

[Text sent, he looks back up at Marty.] Your band not into this kinda stuff?

[That's who he meant by "my guys" right.]

[heymcfly]

Thanks, man. I appreciate it.

[ This guy actually whips out his phone, talking to what Marty will assume is his manager. It's not often you find nice guys like this! Sometimes Marty's seen that they're...not stingy, but almost protective. They don't want to give away secrets. Which kind of sucked, because he would do anything to make his music more interesting.

At the question, he shakes his head. ] Not really. We're more into fantasy kind of stuff, y'know? My designers would probably shit themselves.

[traumatizing]

[Terry huffs a small laugh at that, nodding his head in understanding. His band is pretty out there, but even they're not super into the darker stuff. It's a pretty specific niche, he figures.]

Yeah, I can see how 'nightmare dancers' doesn't exactly jive with that.

[heymcfly]

Maybe if we were doin' some dark song or something like that. [ That would be...interesting. Marty has to think about it for a minute. But then again, the darkest of shit probably wouldn't match how his marionettes danced. That was extreme dedication. ]

Not as heavy as yours, anyway. You guys are rockin'.

[ He pauses for a moment. ] Did I meet you yet? M'name's Marty. Marty McFly.

[traumatizing]

We met briefly, at the Fairy Trials show. [Terry smiles and offers a hand.] Terry Ward.

[heymcfly]

Fairy Trials...? [ He definitely tried to push that event out of his head. After a moment or two, he recognizes! ] Oh, shit, I remember! [ With a smile, Marty takes the hand. ]

I'm Marty McFly. 'S good to meet you when I'm not in bubble pants.

[traumatizing]

[Terry laughs and shakes his hand. No apologies for trying to convince Marty the puffy pants were great though.]

What band are you in?

[agains]

[ Keith can't sense any change in the air currents from outside -- the chill that creeps up on him is, as far as he can tell, coming out of nowhere. And the fog from the machine isn't interacting with it properly, either. It's got a mind of its own.

He knows enough to know the power of song, as well as that people can find powers deep within themselves. But even as he notices, the performance slows his mind, makes him forget. He feels complacent. It worries the hell out of him once the world begins to get its color back.

He hits the bar hard and fast, getting two tall glasses of... lemonade, okay, he loves lemonade... before finding Terry in the crowd. ]

One of Pride's musicians, right? [ His voice is oddly gentle for someone of his stature. ] Oh. You already have a drink. [ He'll just set that second one down then. ] Everyone from your label has such showmanship, I'm always impressed. You were captivating.

[traumatizing]

[Wow that's. Those are some compliments. Terry looks up at the guy with an almost smile as he finishes signing something and the fan departs, thanking him first before they shuffle off to find their friends.]

Thanks. [He gives the guy a curious look, wondering why he recognises him, and then:] Hue & Cry, right?

[cleartranquil]

[Yuffie is there. Of course she is! Why wouldn't she be?

She's enjoying herself and is really only there for one reason and that's to cheer on Terry playing solo. She hadn't warned anyone she'd be there and she's off on the side hiding in the booth because she knows the kid and for two rum and cokes and a promise to be less of a jerk next time he does her sound hook up, he'll let her stay there. It allows her perfect filming ability and it means that when things start to get weird, she can see it all just fine. The sound guy keeps babbling at her about pyrotechnics and people changing the cues on him but she's not listening to a single word as she watches. Whatever is going on, she's pretty sure it's not a part of the act.

When his set gets done, she watches it over on her phone, laughing off the sound kid's talk and trying to figure out what she's even seeing on the recording. She pulls her jacket around her closer and shivers. Right. So, maybe they were starting to cross over into 'too weird'. All of them.

She, lets herself into the back, no one sees fit to stop her. Enough people recognize her and anyone else seems to just be willing to ignore the tiny guitarist who seems to be on a mission. When she sits down next to him. Sorry. You're not allowed to be alone ever. Yuffie Kisaragi rule of friendship. ]

So. That was intense.

[ Queen of understatement, Yuffie Kisaragi. ]

[traumatizing]

[He actually looks relieved to see Yuffie — how things change, eh? — and pulls up his knees a little more so there's space for her on the bench/couch/thing he's taken over.]

Yeah. [He looks around, double checking they're alone back here. Page has probably wondered off to talk to Psychopomp's manager. Thank god.] I... Have no idea what happened.

[cleartranquil]

Whatever it was, it shows up on video.

[She pulls up her knees to match and she keeps her phone in her pocket. If he wants to see, she'll let him see but she's not going to be the one to offer it. It was pretty...uh. Well. She's got a hat shoved down over her hair and it's clear she's playing incognito. She's here as a friend, not a Carnie.]

I have a running theory, but you're gonna hate it.

[traumatizing]

[Terry sighs and drops his head back with a thump as it hits the wall. So even music isn't a safe place anymore.]

What else is new?