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interstellar55552016-02-19 10:22 am
tigermillionaire) wrote in interstellar55552016-02-19 10:22 am
Entry tags:
[OPEN] if i could begin to be
Who: Steven/Tiger and YOU.
What: Sad glowing child attempts to play music and wanders Pride HQ, doing various things, in anticipation of upcoming concert.
When: Any time around nowish.
Where: Around Pride HQ.
Warnings: Possibly mentions of torture and child abuse.
SYSTEM CRASH PENTHOUSE (OPEN TO BANDMATES AND VISITING CR)
He’s been trying. At least there’s that.
Ever since Trucy made her announcement to the band about her flash concert plans, he’s known that having to get up on stage again is an inevitability, no matter how messed up he is. The inhuman features of his broken appearance can probably be concealed by pretending as if they are intentional special effects, but the difficulty he’s had focusing is another matter entirely.
So, he’s been practicing. For the last several days, he’s often been found camping out in the living area of the penthouse, trying to work over his parts, and trying to remember how they’re done. Sometimes it feels impossibly difficult, like every time he tries to piece a new part of it together, the rest of the puzzle falls apart. Other times, it almost seems to flow, and he feels just a little bit like how he’s supposed to be.
Right now, he isn’t sure which it is. It seemed like it was going well earlier, but now he’s hit a dry spot. In one particular song, he keeps trying to play his keyboard part but every time it feels like he’s losing track of the rhythm until it falls completely out of line with the rest of the synth arrangement.
He’s getting frustrated, which only seems to make it worse. The glowing pink crack lines only seem to form more frequently when he feels like this. But he’s trying.
AROUND PRIDE HQ (OPEN TO ALL)
When allowed to wander the residential areas of the Pride tower, he kind of sticks out like a sore thumb. The glowing pink crack lines that have formed across his body have remained there since he returned from his punishment, moving in constantly shifting patterns across his flesh. He’s been dressed in sweaters and full leggings or pants most of the time to try to hide them, but they still appear on his face and hands from time to time. Sunglasses have been covering the glowing expanses of his eyes.
There’s probably a body guard lingering somewhere nearby, while he’s out and about like this, within range of sight but not closer. He spends his time lingering on the balconies and star watching in the evenings, a series of space related books brought along with him and left hanging open across his lap. He’s been trying to learn the constellations recently, and part of him wonders why he never learned them before.
During the day he’ll sometimes be found having zoned out of dozed off in public, in a number of the different lounges, sometimes in the middle of drawing a bunch of pictures that range from normal to surreal to mildly disturbed. The quality is pretty good, for his age.
He hasn’t been wearing makeup recently, which is perhaps one of the most glaring differences, despite everything. The bratty and obnoxious child of months ago has never seemed further away.
What: Sad glowing child attempts to play music and wanders Pride HQ, doing various things, in anticipation of upcoming concert.
When: Any time around nowish.
Where: Around Pride HQ.
Warnings: Possibly mentions of torture and child abuse.
SYSTEM CRASH PENTHOUSE (OPEN TO BANDMATES AND VISITING CR)
He’s been trying. At least there’s that.
Ever since Trucy made her announcement to the band about her flash concert plans, he’s known that having to get up on stage again is an inevitability, no matter how messed up he is. The inhuman features of his broken appearance can probably be concealed by pretending as if they are intentional special effects, but the difficulty he’s had focusing is another matter entirely.
So, he’s been practicing. For the last several days, he’s often been found camping out in the living area of the penthouse, trying to work over his parts, and trying to remember how they’re done. Sometimes it feels impossibly difficult, like every time he tries to piece a new part of it together, the rest of the puzzle falls apart. Other times, it almost seems to flow, and he feels just a little bit like how he’s supposed to be.
Right now, he isn’t sure which it is. It seemed like it was going well earlier, but now he’s hit a dry spot. In one particular song, he keeps trying to play his keyboard part but every time it feels like he’s losing track of the rhythm until it falls completely out of line with the rest of the synth arrangement.
He’s getting frustrated, which only seems to make it worse. The glowing pink crack lines only seem to form more frequently when he feels like this. But he’s trying.
AROUND PRIDE HQ (OPEN TO ALL)
When allowed to wander the residential areas of the Pride tower, he kind of sticks out like a sore thumb. The glowing pink crack lines that have formed across his body have remained there since he returned from his punishment, moving in constantly shifting patterns across his flesh. He’s been dressed in sweaters and full leggings or pants most of the time to try to hide them, but they still appear on his face and hands from time to time. Sunglasses have been covering the glowing expanses of his eyes.
There’s probably a body guard lingering somewhere nearby, while he’s out and about like this, within range of sight but not closer. He spends his time lingering on the balconies and star watching in the evenings, a series of space related books brought along with him and left hanging open across his lap. He’s been trying to learn the constellations recently, and part of him wonders why he never learned them before.
During the day he’ll sometimes be found having zoned out of dozed off in public, in a number of the different lounges, sometimes in the middle of drawing a bunch of pictures that range from normal to surreal to mildly disturbed. The quality is pretty good, for his age.
He hasn’t been wearing makeup recently, which is perhaps one of the most glaring differences, despite everything. The bratty and obnoxious child of months ago has never seemed further away.
Penthouse
Pinkie's been listening to Tiger practice for a little while - not quite hovering, but definitely in the area. She doesn't like to let any of the band too far out of her sight anymore. Well, except for Kido; god knows where Kido is. It's not practical in the least. But at least she can keep an eye on Tiger, right? Eventually, when things don't seem to be going so well, she wanders into the room. "Would it help if like...I did my part too? I can get my keytar."
She should probably practice anyway. She hasn't played the keytar in...well, a really long time.
no subject
"Yeah...okay. I'll...I can try. We have to do this together, anyway..."
Despite everything, they're all in it together.
no subject
It's not as exciting a prospect for her. Keytars are weird instruments. They make her spread her fingers out and use all of them at once, which sometimes feels like too many limbs to be keeping track of. But it'll make Tiger happy, and she needs to do it anyway, so she bounces out of the room and returns in a few seconds.
"We should have a big practice sometime," she suggests as she leans over to plug it in. "Like, just here, but all together."
no subject
"We...we gotta be ready for Trucy's show. I don't wanna mess it up."
It really feels like mostly Trucy's thing at the moment. He's doing it for her more than anything else. He doesn't want to let her down. He wants to try, even though he's scared he'll fail.
"I miss when it was...when this was stuff was more fun..."
no subject
Pinkie perches on the arm of a couch and kneads at the keys. It's not tuning - it doesn't need tuning, and anyway nobody tunes an instrument with their knuckles. It hurts a little, stretching them farther than they're meant to go. She uncurls her fingers and tries again.
"I used to get excited like her, but I kinda wish we weren't even doing it." Saying that feels wrong, and she's quick to add, "Not forever, I mean! Just not right now."
no subject
He understands how she feels. He's having a hard time too, even if it's for totally different reasons. He runs his fingers over his broken gem again, trying to remember what it felt like to not have his thoughts constantly scattered.
"I'm sorry that...that you have to feel that way." He frowns, stretching his fingers over his keyboard in anticipation. "I don't know if anybody wants to do this anymore..."
no subject
She curls and uncurls her fingers, then stretches them across the keys in the normal way. It feels gross, but she's going to have to get used to it sooner or later. "But yeah. Things aren't any better at Virgo either, it sounds like. It'd be nice if we could all just take a break for a little while." It's out of the question, of course. It's not like they even set their own schedules.