interstellar5555 | Turn the Beat Around [Open]

Who: Agent J and anyone hanging around Priscilla's
What: J's getting a little tired of sitting on his hands, as it were. You can't really blame the man for wanting to help, especially when there's people around who need it.
When: Mid-February
Where: Priscilla's Coffee Shop
Warnings: None yet
Notes: J's mostly going to tap into musician tunes, but only with player permission. Character tune master post is here, and I'd be happy to discuss things via PM or Plurk!

It's been a while since J has really been able to work with the Music, and it's starting to get under his skin. Sure, he can hear it - that never goes away, and he doesn't want it to. No, what's getting to him is the broken tunes - is hearing the people who've been brainwashed around town, and knowing that he's not supposed to do anything about it just yet. Lay low, they'd all been told. Don't get caught.

But he could do that and still help, right?

It's a good thing Priscilla's encourages chatting with customers and getting to know the regulars (though he had a rough time trying not to laugh when the attitude had initially been explained to him as wanting to be "somewhere where everybody knows your name"). It means that, if he stops to chat someone up when he delivers their coffee, it's all perfectly normal. Just part of the atmosphere.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Liquid heart attack might be a blessing, as a matter of fact." With more days passing, it's getting easier to make one of her small grins. "Better coffee do it than work, right?"

Wouldn't that be a middle finger to Blanche- pain rings throughout her head and Luce winces, rubbing at one temple. "But really, I'm dead on my feet... So something to perk me up for a while would be welcome, honestly."

Her tune picks up just a bit with the smile, and J smiles back. "Usually, yeah."

Then the screeching speaker feedback crashes through her tune, and it's all J can do to keep a completely straight face. Holy Hendrix that hurt. And she's wincing, and for a moment he's got the crazy notion that her pain is reflecting her tune and not the other way around- but it doesn't work that way, does it?

Around here, he has no idea.

So he nods sympathetically - "Gotcha. Sit tight - I'll be back in a few." - and heads back to the counter. He returns a few minutes later with a glass of ice water and a small mug in a saucer, full to the top. "We don't usually make flat whites with double shots of espresso, but it sounds like one of those days."

When he comes back, she hasn't moved much. Her fingers are still laced together, and she seems to have spaced out a bit. The only thing that seems to keep her going some days is the thought of her band, and of the people from her memories... Two who she's seen here. It's hard to think of them without triggering whatever they did to her head, but... She's managing.

J's arrival snaps her out of it, however, and she smiles up to him as she reaches for the mug. At the sight of water, however, she pauses.

"My. I didn't think I looked that bad."

If it's not feedback, it's heavy static. He can't decide which is worse. It lessens a little when he gets back, but not enough.

"Ma'am, five minutes ago you asked me for a heart attack. I'm just coverin' my bases." He smiles and plays up the joke a little, hoping for something that'll bring her tune - her real tune, under the mess the execs have caused - to the forefront.

"Oh, I thought that sort of request would be common at a caffeine place like this." While the water is a nice touch- she'll be sure to leave a tip, it'd be rude not to- her hands still go to the mug in the end. The warmth of it in her palms is reassuring, and Luce sighs.

"I usually make my own espresso, but... There's not been enough time, lately. If it's not one thing, it's another." She can't be trusted with spare time anymore, and there's a flicker of bitterness in her heart at that. Luce tries to move past it. "Do you have busy days like that here often?"

"Not usin' those particular words." He keeps smiling, trying to keep things light, even if they're anything but.

If her tune is anything to judge by, it's not working. There's a sour downturn in her tune - all her own - and a hiss of static to go along with it - from the damage. "Sometimes. College finals, an' anytime there's an event nearby." It's an easy lie - he hasn't been working here nearly long enough to experience either of those, but he remembers it from his previous stint as a barista half a lifetime ago. "Gotta say, music helps." It's half shameless fishing and half basic truth.

"Oh, college?" She cracks a grin, faking well as always despite what's really going on behind the scenes, so to speak. "You don't seem the type at all."

Mentioning music draws her mind to so many things in the past month- the music she's played with her band, the song she sang for Tsuna that lead an old face to her again, the bass that had resonated from that woman... Her fingers tap against her mug. On the other hand, there's the knowledge that so little was her choice.

"You know, I'm not sure how to feel about music lately."

"Probably 'cause I'm not," he replies, matching her (admittedly fake) grin with one of his own (not much better). "I'm just the one gettin' 'em their caffeine." She makes a passable fake grin - or she would, if he couldn't hear right through it. Still, no reason to let on just yet.

"Yeah?" There's an opening in here somewhere, some piece of tune that's decidedly hers, and he just has to find it. "If you don't mind my askin', what's up?"

How to explain it? The question goes around and around in her head, almost like the path her finger traces around the rim of her mug. How to explain it without it sounding completely preposterous to anyone who isn't involved?

"Lately," Luce manages, "it feels as though music has been taking more than it's given." Another sip of her coffee. It's not a lie, either. The joys she'd taken at the beginning of her career- if it can really be called that when it was never her choice- don't match up to all the pain she's seen others and herself go through.

Turn the Beat Around [Open]

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