Welcoming Atmosphere

[panspermia]

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!]]

Comments

[sayonaramemories]

He's just been signed on, a new addition to a long standing band. He opens the door to his new flat and... this place is disgusting, and the fact he thinks that is clear on his face.

"How can you live in this filth?" He speaks up, picking up one of the half-finished song lyrics. It only takes him a moment to read the lyrics, scoff and drop it right back. "What's with this wallowing? If you're going to wallow, at least wallow somewhere clean."

[panspermia]

Who's this now, a new maid? He thought he put the sign out. Half asleep and dazedly thumbing the strings of his bass, Greg glances over, wondering if it's even worth rebuffing the criticism. Then there's a slight thump and twang of strings as he staggers up to his feet.

"Oh, uh! I mean, it's... uhhh." He scratches at his neck, and tries to hide the embarrassment with a smile. "Hey! Hi. Sorry it's been... busy. Um, but, you're, uh, Kokoro, right?"

[sayonaramemories]

He nods. "Your brand new drummer. I'm sure I'm a step above whoever you had before," self-assured and confident, maybe it comes across as cocky but he's too sure of himself to actually care.

"I hope it doesn't always look like this." Because there's no way he's going to stand for it. A house should be neat, at least, if not perfectly clean. Aren't there supposed to be maids to take care of a mess like this?

[panspermia]

Greg's smile strains a little at that comment. This is already hard, without Krieg's warnings echoing in the back of his head. It's none of Kokoro's business, though. Hopefully.

"Uhh. Nah, not usually... to this degree." No one would ever, ever claim Greg to be a tidy person, but even this is past his usual standards. Mostly because there's usually maids around. "Just, y'know, with the holidays, things get a little... eh."

[sayonaramemories]

He twirls his hair, smile pleasant for now at least.

"The holidays is no excuse for a mess like this." It's awful, disgusting and needs to be cleaned.

Not that he's going to be the one to do it.

[nibelungvalesti]

Meril sat up, blinking very slowly at this sudden intrusion and what had to be deliberate rudeness. For her own part, she took her deliberate time in turning her attention back to her laptop, typing a farewell to her guild and logging off, before setting it aside to rise.

"You would be Kokoro?"

[sayonaramemories]

It may or may not be deliberate rudeness. That's for him to know and everyone else to never find out. But honestly, this place is a wreck and it's impressive in the worst way possible.

"That's right. Your new drummer," he gives a cute little curtsy.

[nibelungvalesti]

"Lovely," Meril said, flat and dry as bone. "We were informed you were coming, but clearly without any accuracy as regards to time."

Not that they would have cleaned up much had they known, to be fair.

[sayonaramemories]

He doesn't seem phased in the least. "I can see that. I hope my room isn't in such... disarray. A small mess is fine, but this is definitely pushing the realms of livable."

[heymcfly]

Words can't explain how excited Marty is right now.

Lead guitar in a new band, helping said band to recover from it's sudden...well, run-offs. This has something that Marty has wanted since the day he was born, when he first learned how to pick up a guitar. He honestly can't remember much about living around here other than that. Now the time has come, and holy shit is he excited! Marty can hardly even breathe as he enters the dorms. No bags, no nothing.

It's dirty as hell. There's soda cans spewed everywhere, pizza boxes and garbage everywhere. It smells...kind of weird, actually. Not dirty, not clean. It's disgusting, unsanitary, and filthy.

Marty loves it.

His grin only grows wider, and he runs a hand through his hair. "Holy shit, this is great. This is so great!" At least someone is happy, despite how dirty this place is!

[panspermia]

"Ngh?"

There's a sleepy mumble from a hairy lump near the television. It's playing an old sitcom about aliens in terrible makeup.

"You say somthin' Mer...?"

[nibelungvalesti]

"Greg, wake up!" Meril rarely got this startled, even lately -- and rarely this rough, as she elbowed him in the stomach while she shifted herself off her casual lean on him. She quickly shoved her laptop aside, wide-eyed and struggling to process.

[heymcfly]

Marty watches the thing unfold. Are these guys the only two band members left? Oh jesus, this was going to be interesting.

He finds himself leaning more towards Meril, as she shoves the crap aside and tries to wake the guy. Okay, Marty could deal with a little bit of lazy. But leave lazy for later! He was in a new band, and he wanted to get rockin'! Just like any other 80's kid excuse his enthusiasm if it's weird.

"Who's that guy?" He points to the hairy lump over there who apparently isn't waking up or anything...

[panspermia]

Well, he's certainly waking up now that Meril's gone and pushed him around a bit. Give him a second here, he isn't fully coherent. "Ow--jeez, where's the fire...? ...Oh. Oh!"

Finally, Greg's caught on to Marty's presence, and makes a seriously belated attempt to push some of his mane back and sit up properly. Marvel at your band lead, in all his glory. "Hoo boy, uh. You're the... the new guy. Um, shoot." He snaps his fingers, willing his still-waking brain to catch up. "Marty!"

[sailorgenerous]

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?"

[panspermia]

...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.

[sailorgenerous]

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."

[panspermia]

"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."

[sailorgenerous]

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?"

[heymcfly]

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'?"

[sailorgenerous]

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..."

[heymcfly]

"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."

[nibelungvalesti]

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.

[sailorgenerous]

"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.

[nibelungvalesti]

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...."