Thistle and Weeds

[dishevelment]

Who: Cosmic Indulgence, Junkyard Carnival, their friends, and YOU
What: Things have changed in recent weeks, personally and professionally. People need to meet. Things need to be discussed
When: Latter part of March
Where: All around Vista City
Warnings: Carnies, Squalo, etc. Things get wild with these guys.



[Insert your prompts as needed, folks. This is a catch-all for everyone to react!]

Comments

[dishevelment]

1

[...Perhaps he was taking too long in the bathroom.

The shower was the only sound breaking the utter silence that befell Koumei's mind as he blindly stared at his own reflection in the mirror, not fully comprehending what he was seeing-- and knowing in his gut that this was more real than anything he had seen thus far. A vicious looking scar, starting under his ribcage and extending over his chest, was apparently his souvenir from a misspent night on the town celebrating Squalo's 23rd birthday. He had met with those strange men with the helmets, but he couldn't quite recall the details of what happened in his own drunken haze...

Now he knew why.

Eyes wide and his breath held as he thought over that battlefield and his overwhelming sense of surprise that dominated the scenario, he gave no thought to the notion that others might want to use the bathroom at 2 in the afternoon.

And the water was starting to go cold.

Perhaps knock? He needs it.]

2

[A distraction. That was what he needed and, while it wouldn't make anything right, it would certainly make the immediate moment a little more tolerable. Thus, Koumei took to the town to do a little shopping and freshen up his wardrobe for the spring. With his hair tied back into a messy braid and a wide brimmed hat upon his head, he felt like he had made a decent disguise for himself. The wide sunglasses added to it-- and helped hide his own emotion as he looked through the racks.

While he favored the boho prints and loose cuts, he knew he would need to find something a little different in order to keep people distracted from his new little problem. Scarves were part of the order of the day, as were smarter looking jackets to replace his loose hoodies and some button up shirts in fresher colors to replace the old.

Spring was a time of change-- and he certainly needed it.]

3

[Later in the evening, Koumei could be found at Brad's Diner nursing a thick, chocolatey milkshake as he poured his focus over his scattered notebooks and journals-- ostensibly songwriting, although it could have been something else. His writing at some point had slipped into something fluid and unrecognizeable that could have been construed as Arabic, but it was impossible to tell. The writer himself gave the change no thought, and the characters flowed from his pen as naturally as water flows down a stream.

He needed to get some of these details in concrete form, just in case he was misunderstanding something, and he needed to have it in a format that he could possibly share if he found that he needed a second opinion.

This was all too much for one mind to handle, even one as keen as his.]

[traumatizing]

[When you fall asleep all gross and sweaty and still wearing your makeup, a hot shower is more than necessary come the next day. Terry's usually quite patient, but right now he feels gross and he's already been waiting a little while, so. After another few minutes, he starts knocking on the door.]

You okay in there?

[dishevelment]

[--Right. Other people used this bathroom. Koumei had just been busy trying to recall the exact strategy he had been using at the moment when the javeline hit him, and figure out what exactly the puzzle he was looking to solve was at that moment.

Normally serious injuries are met with different emotions, not simple surprise and an odd sense of clarity.]

...I'm fine, [he said after a few moments' too long a wait, and easily shut the water off without even bothering trying to get his head wet.] Just fine, [he repeated, scanning around the small bathroom in his distraction. Where was a decent towel around here...?]

[traumatizing]

You sure?

[That doesn't seem like a normal amount of time for 'fine', but honestly Terry's finding it harder and harder to tell with Koumei.]

[But he's still concerned, so.]

[dishevelment]

Maybe had a little too much to drink last night....it was someone's birthday.

[But the lie was half-hearted. He was still distracted by looking for a proper towel...and he was glad to find that he was still wearing his pants.]

3

[twoscompany]

[Koumei's not the only one at the diner. Garnet's there, too, staring at her own milkshake, her eyes emotionlessly glazed over in weariness. There's a paper in front of her. Several, actually. None of them look like anything she's written down.

She doesn't even notice Koumei as she lifts her head up to look around, before returning to her drink.]

3

[dishevelment]

[Ah. There Garnet was, lost in her own mind again. Sucking on his milkshake for a moment, he found himself wondering once again about what she must have been thinking behind those eyes of hers...and kicking himself for not being able to protect her properly, like he knew that he should be able to.

Rationally, it wasn't his fault-- just like he could never have predicted certain movements on that battlefield without going against his core beliefs.

...At least watching her was a nice break from his feverish writing. The strange lettering system still hadn't really registered in his mind, and it was doubtful that it would unless something else came up. For the moment, wondering about Garnet was more interesting.]

3

[twoscompany]

[It took her some time to notice Koumei, to notice anyone else in the room, really. Once she does, though, Koumei will notice her sliding into the other side of his booth, quietly grasping her own drink.]

...How long have you been here?

3

[dishevelment]

A while, [he confessed, setting his pen aside as Garnet slid into the adjacent seat.] I needed to get out of the apartment a bit to think-- and not in a place where someone would encourage me to get drunk.

[Because he'd have been surprised if Garnet hadn't notice how frequently he'd been hanging out with Squalo in recent weeks. Manticore's apartment was a relatively safe place, where people wouldn't ask him questions or anything. ]

2

[sharktrash]

[ Well, hello there. Squalo's on the other end of the store, since their tastes are pretty different and all - but he's also looking for simple shirts right now. Long-sleeved ones. He could get away with T-shirts under his longcoat, but with the changing season, it was going to be too warm for that soon. Maybe he could get a jacket. Would help with the whole hooligan-y look. ]

[ Of course he spots the horrifying fashion disaster that looks pretty much like a scarecrow come to life, and saunters over. Without bothering to announce his presence, he plucks the hat off Koumei's head -- oh yeah, he knows this hair -- and puts it back on. ]

I fucking knew it. You do realize that a disguise is a failure if you don't blend in, right?

2

[dishevelment]

[Koumei just blinks in surprise-- he hadn't expected to be found in this place so quickly, nonetheless by the likes of Squalo.]

Well, it's rather hard to do anything with this hair... but what's so wrong with it?

[He had been channeling the influence of a certain country star who was no longer in the city....complete with his horrible fashion sense. Truly, poor fashion taste must be genetic.]

[sharktrash]

[ "The likes" wow excuse you. EYEROLL. ]

The hair's the least offensive thing here. Floral patterns and a cowboy hat? Seriously? And don't get me fucking started on the glasses --

[ SHIT IT RUNS IN THE FAMILY ]

[dishevelment]

[BE GLAD HE HASN'T TRIED A STUPID GOATEE!!!]

...I don't see anything wrong with this, [he said mildly, looking down at his shirt. It was a perfectly normal shirt, in his opinion.]

2

[variaboss]

[ And here's someone that's stopped bothering trying to disguise himself. It really just doesn't work for him. Unless he went around with a damn mask, there was no way to hide who he was. So he just didn't bother. He was motherfucking Xanxus, bitches. Line for autographs start over there.

At the moment though, he's being left alone. He's sort of inching his way towards the kid's section without trying to look like he's going there. But he veers towards the really suspicious looking Koumei.

He can't help it when he looms behind him. ]

The condor flies at midnight.

[ Someone might have been watching too many spy movies. ]

2

[dishevelment]

Ah, but where will the condor land?

[Koumei peered up at Xanxus from underneath the brim of the hat that was far too Country for an Indie Rock Pianist. Curious about what the man was doing (and glad to have yet another distraction, for he was getting lost in the mess of spring fashions,) he tipped down his shades to get a better look at the man.]

It's been a while. You staying out of trouble?

[variaboss]

That's not the code. You must be a spy. Now we must have an epic chase scene with cool music in the background before I spout a clever one liner and bang some hot chick in the cool car I was driving.

[ He's grinning hugely though because it has been a while and Koumei is one of those people he really truly considers a friend who isn't a Carnie. ]

Sadly, yes. But I'm trying to figure out how to get myself back into the tabloids before I'm forgotten for the next greatest trainwreck. Trouble avoiding you still, Mei?

[dishevelment]

[That was why Carnie Indulgence was a thing-- and why Koumei was surprised there wasn't more inter-band slashfic out there. Koumei chuckled at the quip, truly glad for something so mundane in his life.]

I don't know, your supplier might not approve of that-- or complain about the mess you made on the leather interior.

Aside from a few hiccups, yeah. Trouble and I have yet to be on a first-name basis, for better or for worse. I think I prefer to keep it this way for a little while longer.

[vivelarevolution]

1

[Sabo is playing the guitar about as obsessively as he played his drums. Though he plays those, too, making sure the percussion is just right for any new drummer they might acquire or so the others know just where the beat is, he doesn't like to leave anything to chance. So feel free to find him anywhere in the Cosmic Indulgence penthouse on either instrument, paper coffee cups and notes strewn about him and a look of almost desperation on his face]


2

[likewise, Sabo can be found around Pride HQ, practicing. Sometimes the same riffs endlessly. On occasion he'll be looking out the window seeming morose with a bottle of beer dangling from his fingers. He's not usually one to mix up his stimulants and depressants, but he figures this is a special circumstance]


3 [When Sabo isn't playing around HQ, he is roosting nights at the Black Chat cafe, a blues and jazz bar that lets him come up on stage and entertain the crowd between sets. In this case, he's mostly on the guitar. Though he's wearing sunglasses and dressed all in black, ostensibly in disguise. When he gives over the stage to the band, he'll go to a little table b the shadows, eat pretzels and write write write in his notebook]


[for whatever choice, however, it's evident that Sabo's gotten into a fight --or rather is healing from it with a split lip, a couple of bruises-- and not a black eye but close enough. It's probably nothing, though, and you shouldn't worry about it]

[ace_of_hearts]

[Ace should probably not party crash random strangers' suites.]

[Old habits die hard.]

[OH LOOK IT'S THAT BLOND GUY WHO BOUGHT HIM RAMEN AND WOULDN'T LET HIM SET FIRE TO SHIT.]

[Let's kill him. :)]

[Okay maybe not that.]

[But he is going to say Hi.]

[....]

[In the way only Ace would.]

[Have you ever been tackled out of nowhere by a freaking jaguar?]

[Well you are now.]

[It's a new sensation.]

[Mind the coffee, because Ace might not.]

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I FOUND YOU!

[Healing is going to be difficult now that he knows where you live =\]

[vivelarevolution]

[Sabo is so startled by the intrusion his body reacts purely on instinct as he throws up an arm to block the incoming asshole behind him and feels the impact of his nose against his forearm until he crashes into the thankfully empty coffee cups.

He tries to regulate his breathing so as not to betray his jumping and blinks bemused at the guy before kicking back, using the guy's back as a foot rest and trying to resume what he was doing]

Hi.

[ace_of_hearts]

[Ow.]

[Damn.]

[He hasn't been blocked so thoroughly since...]

[Whoever those former bffs were.]

You don't know karate do you?

[Fishman karate? No that's not a thing.... is it?]

3

[thetruehistorian]

[Why is Robin hanging out in a blues bar?

Reasons.

But she happens to be there, trying to find a quiet corner where she doesn't even have to listen to the music necessarily. Vista City is a deluge and she didn't pack an umbrella.

At least the coffee is decent.

And luck is on her side, it seems.

Honestly she expected her quarry to be a bit harder to find. Ah well. It isn't so much the finding it's the... everything else. Still, it'd be foolish to waste this opportunity.

After Sabo turns the mic over to the band, he'll find a steaming mug of coffee just the way he likes it- whether he knows that's the way he prefers it or not- and a note. A map, actually.]

[vivelarevolution]

[that isn't creepy at all. Really it isn't. He's surprised at how natural it feels that this sort of thing should be there waiting for him. He takes a sip of the coffee without even thinking. It makes him blink in surprise because it's-- good! Really good. Really familiar like... like someplace warm. Like... someone he once knew.

Though he's not too waxing poetic about the coffee to notice the map. Very curious. Someone wants to meet him somewhere. For what? Is it a fan? A rival? Someone who wants to try and break his legs with a baseball bat? Sabo's not entirely sure but for the first time in a while he can feel something like adventure blossoming in him.

So wherever you are, he's game to find you. But he'll approach the map differently, trying to come in from behind if he can and see without being seen]

[thetruehistorian]

[The thing of it is, there's no one to find. X marks the spot, but it's nothing more than a boarded up side door in a deserted alley. Another note hangs off one of the boards, held up by a pocketknife embedded into the splintering wood. The note is brief: instructions on how to order the coffee as it had been left for him.

As soon as he's out of sight from the main thoroughfares, however, something peculiar happens. The alley smells like flowers- really strongly of flowers, actually. And a voice near his ear whispers.]

It's good to see you again, my friend.

How the bands got brought together... maybe =\ // OTA

[ace_of_hearts]

Cosmic Indulgence:

[So the first step after leaving Sabo alone, physically that is, not forever, is meeting all of Sabo's bandmates. Because CLEARLY SOMEONE needs to apologize to them for the noise, the ruckus, the insanity, and putting up with the cantankerous asshole of a "musician."]

[So literally everyone in Cosmic Indulgence is getting a polite knock at their door and an introduction from Mr. Topless & orange cowboy hat himself. Because this is a Tuesday.]

[For anyone who doesn't respond, they get a polite message slid under their door reading:]

"Plan to kidnap blondie and make him pretend to be less of a loser. 7 pm, wear clubbing clothes. Sorry for the imposition of his presence in your life."

[It isn't signed, and "blondie" isn't the best description. Oh well, if you're curious, mystery note writer is almost certain to explain himself at that time. Although he could also be completely ignored as a random prank. Whichever.]

------

Junkyard Carnival

No like I seriously need some help. I don't want to go away to prison for life, and I've never had my self control wear this thin. But it's okay, I have a plan.

[It's not okay. NOT AT ALL OKAY. Ace wants to kidnap the most annoying person we all know and hate love love to hate. And why? WHY IN GOD'S NAME YOU MIGHT ASK?]

[To torture him.]

[No really.]

[NO REALLY.]

[But at least it's a legal form of torture. He wants to force Sabo to go clubbing or drinking, or out in some sort of social way to make friends. Because at least friends have an automatic social obligation to keep him from getting killed. And Ace isn't kidding, he really wants to kill him. He just hasn't because he knows he'd regret it. Having a conscience and awareness of consequences is terrible guys.]

[So who's with him now that you've heard this idiotic idea of a "plan"?]