interstellar5555 | "Senza tentazioni, senza onore."

Entry tags:

"Senza tentazioni, senza onore."

Who: Squalo and -- you?
What: Squalo decided not to let his bandmates one-up him and went to have his own "seasonal" performance. For fun. Or so they say. He's got Empathic Influence now, so... have fun getting just a little bit too into those songs and enjoy all those new, excellent and healthy emotions that you're suddenly feeling!
When: Feb 13th
Where: "The Variable", alternative music club in Vista City
Warnings: ...Squalo. Aka: profanity, violence, public indecency, drug use, will add as necessary.

(( See comments for prompts! ))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ So Xanxus is at the club mostly because he likes to keep his fingers on the pulse of the music industry. It has nothing at all to do with the asshole on stage. Nothing at all. Certainly, he's here for the drinks and not the man crawling on the stage.

There is that long white hair hanging off the stage and he almost pictures it for a moment in a different location, steaming off the edge of a very heavy antique looking desk, paperwork pushed off onto the floor to make room. But he's never owned such a fancy desk in his life...right?

He's about to scoff a little when he hears it. That voice. Ands when he sees it. Those intense eyes focused right on him. No mistaking it. No way he could be looking at anyone else, mostly because Xanxus for all his fame, is generally left alone when he's drinking. Probably because he's been arrested that one too many times.

But he swears to fuck the jackass is looking at him. Singing...singing at him. He turns towards the stage completely and for once in his damn life, he pushes the glass of alcohol away to pay full attention to the man on stage. The man who kept giving him those strange feelings of deja vous.
]

[ Crawling, laying down, just like you do when you're high as a kite, don't you Xanxus? The very music might sound a little like heroin, but there's a different message getting pulsed off of the stage; murder intertwined with some kind of dark lust one feels toward something absolutely grand and terrifying, however there's no fear in it. None. ]

[ Squalo sees him looking back at him and smirks, something sharp and challenging to it, as he draws a hand down the microphone stand, almost as if clawing at it in a matching slow motion. ]

You, you are so special --
You have the talent to make me feel like dirt
I'll take your gun into
My mouth and eat the bullet that you give me

[ He turns away from the crowd, his hair whipping around as he does, and walks a few steps away, singing the main tune wordlessly while the music plays the outro. ]

Aaaaaaah, yeah --

[ And then he turns back again, triumphantly so, holding his hands out in the air -- the audience seems to lose it and he soaks it all in as if he's absolutely entitled to all that attention, cheer and adoration. And then he's raising the mic again. ]

Heeeeey, but we're not done yet. I've got something very special for you tonight -- [ someone in the front row screams something about LOVE SONGS!! and he laughs. ] Close. Not quite. I'm really more of an angry break-up song kind of guy. Or, you know, love ya so much I'll put a knife through your throat kind of guy. [ Screaming near the stage. ] What was that? You want to hear it? Come on, do you? [ A roar in the crowd. ] Alright, alright. Shit, the things I've gotta put up with for you fuckwads. Here's a song -- [ Another, slightly faster but still dark as fuck riff starts playing, as he daringly stares over the crowd and right at Xanxus' eyes. ] -- and I'm thinking, maybe there's someone here who'd like to join me onstage for this.

[ Shit... Shit. That guy. There's just something about him. The way he moves. The way he sings. The way it makes him feel. For a moment, he's certain he can feel the familiar textured grips and heavy weight of pistols in his hand. Beautiful custom pieces with bright red Xs on them. He can feel the heat of them in his palm, not from the bullets, but heat from him. Glowing brightly because of him...

And a sword. He sees a sword. He sees a sword deflecting those guns as he dances across... the Coliseum in Rome? There's something there. Someone there. Someone... He nearly grasps it and then it's gone. Fleeting in that moment between songs when his eyes get trapped by those of the man on stage.

His lips twitch upwards as if to say "this is a challenge and I accept it." He stalks towards the stage, more than happy for the crowd to part for him. Like Moses and the Red Sea if Moses threw punches and the Red Sea was a crowd of Squalo's fans. ]

Maybe there is.

[ He announces at the foot of the stage before hopping right on up to head over to mic, just right on the other side of Squalo, so that the mic is in between them ] But can you keep up with me?

[ His grin grows darker as the man accepts his challenge and approaches the stage. Funny how the scumbags part to give way to him. Someone's got reputation, looks like. He quickly motions at one of the stagehands. ]

Voi, trash, get a second mic. Presto.

[ He prefers being able to move around, as tempting as singing into a single receiver could be. The spare will be brought in right as Xanxus stops next to him. He laughs and regards him with a playful glint in his eyes. ]

No problem. The question is, can you?

[ He slips his fingers around the microphone, almost stroking it for a moment, and takes it off the stand, then steps back, facing Xanxus. He almost mockingly motions at a piece of paper on one of the amplifiers -- the text, in case he needs it -- and he's grinning as he raises the mic to his lips, counting down the remaining bars until it's time to start. His voice is low, rough, haunting, each word drawn out with what could be either seething or enjoyment. ]

I tried to love you
I thought I could
I tried to own you
I thought I would

[ He's zoning in on Xanxus again, reaching toward his cheek in an almost gentle manner... then suddenly making a motion to dig his nails in, which he'll do if he's allowed. ]

I want to peel the skin -- from your face
Before the real you... lays to waste

Edited 2016-02-20 19:29 (UTC)

[ He does have a reputation. Those tabloids don't lie about how many fights he's gotten in over the time he's been a rock star. It makes for easy access to the stage and to the long haired man. ]

[ For a moment, he reaches out to snag the very ends of Squalo's hair to give it a little tug. He doesn't seem to even know he did it. Instead, letting go to take that mic from him. ]

Oh, I think I can do more than keep up. Just don't get too upset when I steal the show from you.

[ He points the mic to Squalo like it's a gun and he's taking aim. He remains like that for a long moment, ignoring the paper for a moment. If he goes over there, he'll make it look like part of the show. Maybe he'll even light it on fire. The audience will just think it's flash paper or something. But for now, it's time to do like they did at the mall. ]

[ He lets the man zone in on him. Let's himself be touched. Those fingers digging into the scars on the side of his face. His eyes narrow and for a moment, he brings up that anger he had felt when he had seen Squalo with that damn blond. ]

You told me I'm the only one.
Sweet little angel [ that's sung in such a mocking way ]
you should have run.
Lying. Crying.
Dying to leave.

[ This time his grasp on Squalo's hair is on purpose, taking a tight possessive fist of it ]

Innocence creates my hell.

[ He just gets more teeth and possibly a stuck-out tongue for that threat. As if, scar daddy, he's got this shit. ...Except, right now, it's totally about the both of them. The audience seems entranced, caught in all that hate, mockery, desire, an almost manic wish to make someone theirs, whether through bruises or a different kind of marks. ]

[ His grin grows wider, almost deranged at that tug on his hair, and he tilts his head back a bit to give Xanxus a half-lidded look of amusement and daring, almost like back when he was singing about the gun. The next verse will come out with them both singing in unison; ]

Cheating myself still you know more
It would be so easy -- [ his eyes narrow further; ] with a whore
Try to understand me little boy

[ The last line is delivered extra low, in an actual growl with bared teeth, and of course he's staring right at Xanxus' eyes for this one -- ]
My twisted passion to... be your world

[ One day, Squalo is going to stick out that tongue and Xanxus is going to do something about it. Grab it...bite it. Something. But not right now, right now is for singing. Though a part of him wishes he had a chair or something so he could lounge and do nothing in the background while Squalo does all the singing, just randomly chiming in for the chorus or something. Maybe some other time...maybe in a music video or something. ]

[ Their voices mesh well in unison. Squalo and him all snarling. To apex predators staking their claim on their territory. On each other. His own voice an angry guttural purr.

He lock eyes with Squalo, leans it so close it looks like he might headbutt him. Or kiss him. Or both. There's something there, in his voice. That possession. That thing that says this is his. This stage. This song. This man. All his. The world is his. It all should belong to him. It comes out in his voice, an ensnare of power that hovers in the crowd like a sheer force of indomitable will. ]

Lost inside my sick head
You live for me but I'm, I'm not alive
Take my hand before I kill

[ He actually lets go of that hair so he can go and get the lyrics. He has a reason. He comes back with them smirking. He won't sing this part by himself though. No. It's unison again. ]

I still love you but I still burn.

[ And then the lyrics suddenly light up in a bright reddish orange blaze. It's so quick, it's like a stage trick. To the audience, it probably looks just like flashpaper magicians use. ]

Burn.

[ Demand he puts it to better use? Also an option. And that's a great idea. They really should record something at this rate, their joint performances, even when mostly improvisation, seem to be energy-packed somehow. ]

[ And then it catches him. Not quite as strong as it does for the audience, but he can still feel it washing over him. That sense of belonging, being in complete mercy of the man in front of him. Even if it's not technically his turn, he breathes out part of the line over Xanxus' voice; ]

I live for you --

[ His own voice is now radiating absolute and utter devotion, admiration and willingness to lay down his life, no doubt further inspired by Xanxus' little trick though it's been going that way from the start. ]

[ And the sight of fire in his palm drives it all home. This. This is what he loves about that person. The person who commands the flames of hell and his own court of demons, one of which -- ]

[ It feels all too natural, like a mere muscle memory sprung back to life, when he sinks down to one knee, looking up at Xanxus as if he was his lord, though the stubborn grin's still playing on his face, and takes that flaming hand into his own, not caring about getting burnt. ]

I still love you... I still burn.

[ Every word is perfectly earnest. Something's missing, and he can't put his finger on it, but every now and then, that emotion breaks through. Attachment. Knighthood. Pledge. Acceptance for being turned to ash if the king desires it. Apparently some things are rooted in so deep that even brainwashing can't completely override it for long. ]

[ And he's turning the man's hand over and pressing it to his lips. On the upside of one of his fingers... right where his Boss ring should be. ]

[ That voice over his. The way Squalo drops to one knee before him. The way he takes his hand... it's all so familiar. How many times has Squalo been on his knees before him like that? How many times has he chilled in his favorite chair with that man right there on the floor next to him like some sort of dangerous deranged pet? ]

[ He looks down at the man. Looks down and places his hand, microphone and all on top of his head. For a moment, it almost looks like he's planning on grabbing it and shoving it forward. Sure, the audience would love that. It'd be a whole different show then. But he doesn't. Instead, he just let's his hand rest a moment longer while his hand, his knuckle is kisses. ]

[ For a moment, he hears it. A voice. Loud and certain. A promise. The most important promise anyone has ever made him. What was it? What... ]

[ The words come even as the reverb still covers the room. He starts without music and hopes the band behind him can pick it up. If not, oh well, he's confident in his voice to sing without a band. Though his is a far more hard rock version than pop. ]

I'm the rush of a bleeding heart
I'm the bruise of a rough start
I'm the dust that ignites the spark
Oh, man, I am dark
They say that I'm black like the night sky
That I'm too horrible to live, too rare to die
I tried to blow my mind a million times
But I got a light

And it's burning still
And it's burning still
Yeah, it's burning still
And it's burning
I am the light
I am the light
The light, the light, the light, the light, the light

I am the fire and you are the rain
Washing me out, you draw my flame...

[ Too many times. For Squalo, at least. Maybe Xanxus hadn't experienced some of those things yet, but this place had a funny way of piecing things back together. ]

[ A whole different show indeed, one that quite a few people seem to be expecting. But no. Maybe another time. Or just later. That is, if they don't forget this burning attraction the moment they step off the stage. ]

[ Funny, he has a similar memory, too. Of himself with short hair and a bandaged arm, saying those words. 'Before that plan is realized, I'm not gonna cut my hair. That's a wish I've made, and now I'm making it a promise to you. Hey, you should--' ]

[ He never managed to remember who he was talking to, but now? He has a pretty good feeling. Hey, maybe someone will catch a glimpse of that imagery, since he seems to be transmitting most of the feelings in his head into sound waves. But it's too brief, too vague to really explain anything. ]

[ In the meantime, he's too busy staring at Xanxus and breaking out laughing, because shit now that sounds like sap. He gets up a moment later, though, and kicks the guitarist. ]

Harder, assholes!

[ He walks up to the sound controls and turns the distortion up to the max, resulting in a... well, definitely heavier sound, and walks back to Xanxus with a shit-eating grin. Clearly they should do a re-play of "Set fire to the rain" next. ]

[ But once again, that teasing fades a bit once he starts singing. He's strangely comfortable with the high notes, even if his voice is rough and gravely as always. ]

You are the fire and I am the rain
Washing you out, I drown your flame
You are the fire and I am the rain
Calming you down

You're a prisoner on the run
I am the moon that reflects the sun
I am unbeaten and I am unwon
But then you were alone
They thought I didn't see you going down
I'll take up your rage and get you out
I am never something in between
But I've got faith

And it's burning still
And it's burning still
Yeah, it's burning still
And it's burning
I'm not the light
I am the dark

[ That time. That place. That promise. He's so close to it. So close to grasping that memory. The memory of mocking Squalo for that promise. Refusing to grow his hair too, or whatever he wanted. Scoffing at him she he says that one day, he'll be grateful for it. ]

[ He raises an eyebrow when Squalo doesn't mock him for his cheesy bullshit. Honestly, he hadn't any idea where it had come from. It had just sort of happened. The feelings, the memories, they had been overwhelming. He had just broken out into song. His desperation to grasp that most important promise in his life heavy in his voice.[ ] ]

The dark, the dark, the dark, the dark.

I am the fire and you are my rain,
I choose you to wear that ring.
I am the Sky and you are the rain
Standing beside me.
I am the Boss and you are my right hand
my knight, my sword,
the requiem rain.

And I am the fire
I am your light, your fire, your sky, your lord, your boss.

[ And there is it. That connection. Long silver hair. A swordsman. A loud ass voice. Pride, undying pride. Superbia. ]

[ He drops his mic as the memory hits him. ]

[ Maybe he was going to mock him later. He can't help but be curious about exactly what does Xanxus want to sing for him. It's funny how he's the one being cheesier here, to be honest, but -- ]

Your knight, your sword,
your requiem rain

And you are the fire
My hope, my God, my fire, my Sky, my lord --

[ He cuts off as he sees that weird look on Xanxus' face. Just like one of them bad trips. He tosses the mic -- the singing's done for now -- and leans in a bit to stare at the man and wave a hand in front of his eyes. ]

Vooi. Did you just fall for me or somethin'?

[ ...he hears the mic falling out of Xanxus' hand. ]

Xanxus?!

[ Another flash. Some brats. Xanxus, this time definitely Xanxus, with such an uncharacteristic look of pure horror on his face as ice extends over him. And himself, confined to a wheelchair, once again unable to do shit for him except trash about and hysterically scream his name again and again. ]

[ -- he snaps out of it to find his hands in Xanxus' open lapels. Probably trying to shake him out of whatever it was that hit him. ]

[ They're both young. Teenagers. He's still unscarred and this guy. This was the guy. As much as he had decided to just keep following him around the damn school, Xanxus thought that this would be the one guy he would make one of his. His first underling. He right hand man. The terror of Mafia School to stand next to the King of the School.

And now more. Weeks. Months. Years. This man... this man. He's always been there. The memory of coming home from the ice. The arms that caught him, they have a face now. It's this face. This face right before him. This. Face.

He reaches out to place his palm against Squalo's face for a moment. He feels the hands around his lapel and he resists the urge to just punch Squalo for grabbing him. He feels so lost in that swarm of memories. ]

Let me go... Right now.

[ This dumb fish on meth face. Congratulations. ]

[ He stares back at him, eyes wide, and for a moment, just a moment, he feels like he really shouldn't touch this man, and yet he'd do it anyway. Another moment, and he does let go, but doesn't move away. Just looks at him. ]

[ The audience is starting to whistle and chant something. Maybe they want another song, maybe they want them to kiss, who the fuck knows. He's barely registering their voices right now. ]

[ He can hear the audience chanting. He wants to grab Squalo. Demand why he hadn't said anything sooner. But he hadn't remembered until now, so for once, he won't blame him. Instead, he just wraps his fingers around that long hair one more time and give it a tug. ]

Don't cut it yet.

[ He then lets go and picks up the mic again to put it back on the stand. ]

And to the rest of you, check out the Carnival's next album.

[ Unless there's another song, he's getting the hell out of there before he does anything rash, like kiss Squalo. ]

[ Good choice of words, Xanxus. Squalo looks like he's seen a fucking ghost, briefly reaching up with his good hand to touch his hair where Xanxus has. This is it. That's whom he'd given that promise to. But why? What was he supposedly waiting for? ]

[ By the time he gathers himself up enough to move or talk, Xanxus is heading off the stage already. Squalo's just going to follow his example, to be honest. He's not sure he could perform right now. Grabbing the mic -- ]

Break time! Go snort some coke or fuck in the bathroom or something, you little fucks. We'll continue later.

[ And, yeah, he's escaping backstage. Shit he needs a drink. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Senza tentazioni, senza onore."

Standard Xanxus Warnings Apply

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much homo

And the Homo continues

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it's a wrap o/ unless you want restroom action lmf