interstellar5555 | (no subject)

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Who: Bill Cipher and YOU!
What: Graffiti, Cafe chats, and any prompt you throw my way
When: The week before Fairy Trial is set to air
Where: Various Places Around Vista City
Warnings: N/A Just Captain Crazy Pant's ranting

Haru was gone. Bill had known it for a while, if he was being honest with himself. Even if the girl had only now gotten the physical boot, his band mate's mind had been gone long before, ever since she returned from her absence. There was a feeling there, something nagging at the back of his skull, but it wasn't just sympathy, remorse, or mere anger.

It was disappointment. Why were people so insistent on following the rules? Didn't they see it made no difference! If Haru and Bolin hadn't been so well behaved, they wouldn't be gone now. This world was determined to run in its own stupid circle. Well not him.

If this world wanted to burn itself so badly, HE would do the burning. It was now or never! Time to take chances. Time to DO something. Vandalism in Progress needed to go back their roots, and Bill knew just how to it. It was time to bend some rules...

OOC: Various catchall prompts open to all! As always, remember Bill does have a regain of Omniscience, if you would like to trigger any memories!

EDIT: HEY GUYS just a heads up in case you are not following me on plurk; I am currently without a computer so tagging has been sporadic to say the least. Now that I have AC done I'll try and get to a coffee shop this weekend. Thank you all for being so patient, I am super psyched to get to your tags!

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Now how do you expect me to get some candid shots with you hovering in every frame, Sparkin-Fresh? Here, big guy, go--!..Go buy yourself some icecream or something. Shoo.”

Nyla will take care of the clean up or he could blame it all on some other poor sap, heck he’ll even do the clean up himself if it came down to it. For now, the sheer action of causing a mess is all Bill craved, and this wall was going to bear the brunt of it. Picking up a spray can, he grins.

“Showtime.”

He starts up a tune as he trails down the alley walls. As long as security can hear his voice, that ought to be enough to satiate their intense nannying.

“Throw my patch on with the lights off,
Yeah, how ya doin, cyclops,
Phrases dodged like caltrops,
Wanna cause a scene~

Tell some jokes for the attention,
They're beyond your comprehension
Laugh back in your face,
You don’t get it at all,

The Universe’s smoke and mirrors,
All the cogs and all the gears,
Perfectly timed to keep you in the dark
I have to laugh but ain't funny
You all think just of money,
But you know I've just
Got to lie, all the time,
to keep your piece of mind,
Da da da da~

He blows into the mouth piece of his sax, to mimic the tune: Bwah bwah bwahnananaba

Lie, all the time
Insanity’s a crime!

The sax wails again in time.

Strip. My. Bones. and limbs away,
Rather'd see another day, from the darkened void!
Than stay here and lie, all the time
About what I know is true...

People think life's gonna make sense,
Barely know their own heads,
Don't they get it yet? That it's all a ploy?!

Make it catchy,
Make it showy,
Oh boy, they think know me!
But I still get tired of lieing all the time,

For the sake of THEIR minds,
Da, da, da-da

Bwah bwah bwahnananaba

Lie, all the time,
So fuck it, I’m unkind!

He kicks one of the cans, letting it ricochet against the wall with a loud clang.

This gullible sacrificial lot, rather I’d watch them rot, in the prison they made,
Than stay here and lie all the time,
When they can't handle the truth!

Catching his breathe, he takes a moment to survey his work; apparently his stream of consciousness doodling has produced an entire wall of EYES, each one glaring, accusingly with pin-pricked pupils of judgement all focused down to where he is standing. Within the negative space of the image, it almost looks like a hand is reaching out; getting closer with each successive drawing; as if a figure is trapped there, reaching out to escape it's two-dimensional confines. He reaches out to touch it.

Flattened minds with flattened dreams, such order makes me want to scream, oh oh oh...

A noise. Bill pauses. Is someone there? Cautiously he turns to corner. Intent on catching who it was he just heard.

Thoughts can't help meandering,
Wonder if someone's listening??...

Well, isn't this a unique sight. A bunch of eyes on the wall being made by an insane saxophonist. (Eda follows the news of the brainwashed, and she accepts like all large groups of people moved into a new area they are some that aren't... so nice.)

Still nice mural.

Bill frowns, it's hard to tell if this person is being sincere or trying to mock him. He would ask how she knows so much about him, but he was just singing about it.

"Hey lady, ever heard the policy on free performances?"

Namely that most people don't give them. Still... a bit of company isn't entirely unwelcome. Something feels odd about watching the staring match the stranger was having with the literal gaze-filled wall, but he can't place why. It's not as if the drawing actually meant anything.

"Ya like it that much, you should add to it."

Then he can blame it on you when he leaves.

"Nah, I'm not as good as drawing as you." And she doesn't wanna get caught.

"But it's really nice... unique."

All the eyes on the mural look like his one working eye, beady and long lashed.

Bill turns his head to hide a snicker; hehe caught on to his plan did she? Well praise is praise, he'll change his tune for now.

"It certainly is!"

They say art is supposed to be something that evokes an emotional responses; while Bill has never been particularly good at identifying those or much of one for art, he can't deny something about the drawing does just that.

She's right. The multiple of eyes do indeed match his own, reflecting his stare right back at him. It feels so familiar to be the subject of such scrutiny-- or perhaps to be the eye doing the scrutinizing. Where did his stare end and the drawings begin?

I'M WATCHING YOU

Bill picks up another spray can, starting up a triangular sort of pattern.

"The name of band's Vandalism in Progress, so I'm living up to the title- Wouldn't be much a front man if I didn't get my hands dirty! You always chat up people you find in the alley?"

"I know who you are and yer band." She mostly deals with Pride musicians.

"Anyone that looks as... singular as you do." Eda replies.

"Do ya now?"

Bill is humming quietly now, a jazzy upbeat number as he begins adding more eyes to the triangle configurations.

"I've been called a great many things-- but singular's a new one."

Is that a pun about his eye or lack thereof?

"Just what is so singular about me?"

Both, maybe.

"Lotsa things. Your manner, your gold jackets, that one eye.."

His grin widens at that. GOOD, he likes people with the guts to admit their attention to his deformity.

"What can I say, I'm ONE of a KIND!"

Shaking the can he adds one final touch before, tossing it mindlessly aside. He fits perfectly against the mural now, a bright gold silhouette outlining his body perfectly by the way he is positioned. All eyes including his own are directed at her, as if an entire group is now paying her attention.

"So what can do ya for? Everyone is always looking for something. What's your poison?"

Wow, this dude is proud that he's basically a cyclops. Coo-coo crazy, this one is.

Fuck, that mural is creepy.

"No idea as of yet, I just got off work see. Looking what trouble I can get into."

Eda, that might be a poor choice of words.

I think you mean an excellent choice of words.

"WELL then you've come to the right place! You know what they say, causing trouble makes ya famous. No one cares how you get noticed these days as long you get noticed."

"What can I get you sir."

"Oh, there's lots of things you can get me! The perfect recipe for schnitzel, the launch codes to that missile hidden under 53rd street- Don't ever be held back by what life says you can and can't do!"

"I mean what can I get you to order--"

"Order? why order! What IS order, anyway? Why do we need it? If we're constantly on the search for innovation, isn't relying on the same old rules holding us back?"

"Please, sir-"

“I mean, remember the last time something held you back"

"H-how do you know about--"

"It's not too late, you know. There's still time to finish what you started."

"Y-you're right! Of course I can!"

"It's all you, kid!"

The bell jingles as the waitress flees out the door. Bill smirks to himself. This fake fortune telling shtick is getting to be pretty fun!..
Now he won't be able to get anything. Oh well.

Edited 2016-03-29 22:54 (UTC)

The ruckus is, of course, enough to attract attention. Anything that has a woman fleeing from the scene would catch Keith's eye, whether because he's a real hero or a programmed flirt.

He takes only a moment to leave his own table and approach Bill. Time for the obvious assumption:

"That's why you leave your number on the check after you order."

Bill turns to the newcomer with a chuckle. For someone who appears to have failed at winning over a lady, he looks awfully pleased about it.

"And why would I want to do that?"

Ha! As if he would show off for the mere purpose of flirting-- flirting was for the purpose of showing off. Priorities, man! He claps his hands, following with his one eye through veiled fingers. This guy has enough guts to waltz right up to him, lets see how long he can continue to entertain.

"No, I'd say that went over perfectly; but HEY if you WANT a number; THIS is the only one you should be concerned with."

Penning one quickly on a paper, he hands it to the Keith: (453) 1540- 5135
At first glance, it would look like a phone number, but on closer inspection, it doesn't use a real area code...

"Ah, instead of getting her number, were you perhaps..." He can't think of any ulterior motives that one might have for chatting up waitresses. Of course, upon closer inspection, Keith can recognize a label-mate and match the face with the reputation.

With the razor-sharp puzzle-solving ability of a newborn, he inspects the number. It doesn't belong to the label. Is he just so charismatic that he's being given Bill's number? No, no... He's seen it before, somewhere...

"Is this supposed to be the rejection hotline, or some other recorded message?"

"Hahaha! Whoa, have a little faith in yourself, pal. Get a lotta those, do ya?"

Well, he was going to give his business card with the key to help the poor guy decode it, but after that line he might as well have a bit more fun first.

"Though I have given it to plenty of people; PULL UP A CHAIR."

He'll just twirl the card in his hands instead. Come on man, his 15 year old fans can get this one!

"Keith Goodman ain't it? You play the theremin."

Rather than protest, he moves on, even managing to make his boast sound humble: "The one and only. At your service, and pleased to meet you!"

Sadly, when Keith sits down to look at it again, he realizes it's only 'familiar' because it doesn't look like a proper number. His real self wouldn't know how to give his number to a woman if he tried; this altered self has probably given and received rejections in equal measure.

"Should I flag someone else down? If you've driven off your waitress, you won't be able to order."

~~Somebody order this man a brain.~~

~~Okay, but I hope you know cannibalism is frowned upon in most societies.~~

"I'm not worried; someone will be on it."

Can you guess who? Let's see how long it takes you to solve this mystery too. Besides; food was only half the reason he came to this place. The sax musician steeples his fingers, keeping up a friendly air while scrutinizing the newcomer all too obviously.

"Name's Bill! Bill Cipher; Vandalism in Progress. Come here often, Goodman? Hear the apple pie they got here's outta this world; supposed to blow your taste-buds sky high."

"There you are, bout time you showed up."

Despite the wording, there isn't a trace of annoyance on Bill's face. He sits in a laid back position at a cafe booth, a milkshake with a silly straw on the table in front of him; all of which might paint a perfectly normal picture-- aside from the fact that this shop doesn't actually sell drinks with silly straws, and that Bill doesn't seem to care who he is speaking to; be it the waitstaff, a friend, or complete stranger.

"So, whatcha plan on getting?"

Someone is supposed to join him, he is aware of that much. Whether anyone actually made plans to or he is simply going to rope them into the situation? Well, he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it.

Edited 2016-03-29 22:48 (UTC)

It was sometime after daily practice in Virgo that made Oscar decide to go get some tea or a latte. He's practice clothes hanging fairly loose on him. He was minding his own business until he hears a singular voice call out to him.

Bill Cipher, an unusual Virgo artist, to say the least. He's heard various rumors from fellow dancers and rescuers, some ridiculous and some just plain disturbing. But he's probably the type that doesn't like to be ignored, so he humors him.

"Tea... or a latte."

Bill fixes the answering stranger an easy smile. Whaddiya know, worked like a charm!

"Just the simple stuff, huh? Go big or go home, I say!"

He takes a moment to note the stranger's clothes. Definitely another muscian; nothing stageworthy no, but it certainly wasn't one of those' incognito' disguises Greg threw on- not like they fooled anybody.

"Not like it'll impede your practice any."

What's the point in being healthy? He abused his body every day and it was fine!

Well not exactly a musician. He's one that assists. He's a dancer.

"I see your taste for the... over the top." The crazy straw... the gaudy clothing, he even wonders if Bill's drink is extra specific.

"I want to remain perfect."

A blink.

"Remain perfect."

Implying this guy thinks he already is perfect. He chews the words as if they have actual flavor, glancing the newcomer up and down with an air of disinterest.

"And this is what you consider perfection, is it?"

By the look on his face he isn't quite convinced.

And Oscar senses what Bill may be thinking. "...It's not like that! I don't think I'm perfect, but I don't wish to ruin my skills. If that makes any sense."

NOPE Too late, no take-backsies, friend!

"Heyyyy, your words not mine! So you've got a giant ego; big deal, who doesn't in this industry? Journalists eat that stuff up."

"But I'm not..." The poor kid.

Rei hadn't quite known what to expect when Bill had asked her to meet him for drinks. He was an odd one, and despite the awkward warning bells that chimed in the back of her head she liked him. Maybe it was because they were stuck in a similar situation, maybe it was because on some level she knew that her space ladies could deal with the worst Bill Cipher might have to offer, or maybe it was just because of his snappy wit. Hard to say, really.

What was easy was sitting down and replying with...half to Bill and half to the very confused waiter.

"Cherry tea, and you can leave the blossoms in."

With that taken care of, she folded hands in front of her and smiled genially at the fellow Virgo artist.

"How are you today, Bill? I hope I wasn't terribly behind schedule."

Bill waves it off, and rests his chin on his elbow, grinning one of his toothy trademark smiles in return.

"EH, SCHEDULE, SCHMEDULE! Time's never done any favors for me; I don't see why we should bother following its rules outside of gigs."

It still strikes him as bizarre that out of all Virgo's artists, the members of Flower of Bones are the people he seems to have struck a chord the most with; guess you couldn't judge a book by its cover-- or a band's culture by their music.

While he had asked Rei to meet him, he hadn't gotten enough of a handle on the other musican to know for sure if she really would. A knowing inkling in his mind told him it was important to come out today regardless, but it's rather pleasant the reason appears to be one he orchestrated.

"And I'm doing just DANDY! Granted I haven't been in the papers much; how many supernatural creatures are you this week?"

Rei can't help but smile at Bill's question, laughing brightly and pulling out two different tabloids. She likes to save them, for various reasons, and these have some rather ticklish titles. They were both ridiculous though, and she just has to share.

"Well apparently I'm a witch in this one, out to turn every young girl in Americana into a sexual deviant because I kissed a girl as a part of a stage show. And then I'm also some sort of soul-stealing succubus out to seduce men or something."

And at the very notion, she lets out a stuttering little giggle, pulling out a third article.

"And in this I'm an LGBT heroine for kissing Di on stage. So, I don't even know. But I know I have a date next week, and I know I got a lot of publicity for that. And I know too, that I had a great time."

“ATTA GIRL, SISTER! Way to corrupt the masses! Keep this up and you’ll be giving me a run for MY title.”

Her forethought to actually bring said articles is much appreciated, and Bill pours over them in glee, half sipping his drink with the crooked curve of his smile. It's subtle, but he makes eye content, serious, just for a moment.

“Maybe you really DO have some kind of supernatural talent..."

Before shifting back to his jovial tune.

"But hey, if you get a movie deal out of it, just keep in mind you want it to be BETTER than the usual kind we watch."

Don't think she doesn't notice that glance, Bill. Her eyes flash, not with anger or even surprise but rather with understanding. She knows that he suspects something, and why shouldn't he? Strange things are going on, and he's most definitely someone she thinks might have a clue. Might really get it.

"Maybe I do..." she answers, taking a surreptitious glance around the entire room. Nobody seemed to be paying attention, so she reached down and twisted up a napkin. Willing power into her fingertips, she set the little strip of paper ablaze, and then quickly doused it in a water cup.

"And I don't think I'm the only one, Bill."

With that said, she covers up the serious turn with a gentle laugh and a nod.

"And if I end up in a movie deal, I won't be signing onto anything that has foam costumes down in the budget. I expect at least rubber monster suits!"

Shin was just here to grab some coffee to fuel him through the next recording session. He's still got plenty of time before he has to be back in the studio, at least. That isn't why he stops, though. He's really just that confused about the man's comment. He turns, rather confused, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Said, 'do you know what you're getting yet?'."

Bill repeats, preening even sparing the poor stranger a glance. Hellooooo victim number 2! Let's see how long he can fake an existing friendship.

"This IS a cafe, people usually are here to order something. Really, gotta get with the program sometime, buddy! SO! Ya gonna take a load off or what?"

After meeting Dazai Shin's decided to just roll with things. Screw it.

He sits down, "Probably black coffee. Do you recommend anything else?"

[Drop a prompt in me, I'll roll with whatever scene you set!]

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A.) Grafitti

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B.) Trouble at the diner

FINALLY WE MEET.

YES!! I was so happy when I got this notif!! :D <3 (also I use hovertext for my puzzles jsyk~)

yess i love your hovertext ///

Aw yay <333 (also OFFICIALLY back from hiatus now)

(Victory \o/!)

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C.) Cafe/ Downtime

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YAY SHIN! so sorry for the hold up; my comp. died and I've been stuck in limbo from it ;__;

This seems to be the year of horrible comp deaths

D.) WILD