Can you feel it calling in the air tonight [Closed]

[eba02]

Who: J, Ankh, and Ivan, at different points
What: The city's playing a different tune, and J is trying to figure out the details.
When: End of March, midafternoon
Where: A park in the city
Warnings: None yet?

It's a quiet day at the park, which is good - after the events of the past week, J can definitely use one of those. For now, he's got his hair pulled back and his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, just taking in the music.

[Feel free to start separate subthreads! :D]

Comments

[connivingbird]

"Hm?"

He wasn't exactly paying attention to whatever J was asking. Instead he pulled his right arm in - it almost looked like it was fighting him before giving in but that's ridiculous, people's arms don't do that - and ran his fingers over the really gaudy red and chunky bracelets he was wearing. The two Cores were humming and he could feel a rush of warmth from them, even more so as he pressed his fingers lightly against them. They weren't giving him answers though he knew - in the broken dreams it always was brought up - a piece was still missing. He still needed at least one more Core.

Never can be whole, he broke it, but you can borrow time, just a little more.

Ankh's hand twitched and he sighed, shrugging slightly. "A little scary, a little empowering. If you can't control that many people, and they aren't happy, they'll turn, but at the same time you've got them in your hands and giving them what they want and all they can do is come back for more."

Why does it sound so false though? It should be the most powerful thing in the world to think of, but he really didn't care.

[eba02]

Ankh is distracted, yeah, but that just leaves J more time and leeway to work with his tune. The static gives way easily in the face of the rhythm and melody that should actually be there; while he can't get rid of the unnatural thrumming bass that is Blanche's hold on his musicians, he can do his best to work around it and fix what he can, so long as he doesn't run into any other obstructions-

He stops short as that new quality that he couldn't quite figure out makes itself known - a quiet backbeat that has worked itself into the tune the same way Blanche's bass did. There's something else connected - but how-

He nearly misses the answer and scrambles for a moment to balance coming up with a reply and keeping up his repair work. "Control, huh? Haven't heard it put that way before."

[connivingbird]

"Why not? It is part of the whole thing."

Maybe he sounded jaded, maybe he was jaded, but the whole thing was a fine balance of giving the audience what they want and accepting their dues. Sure people were in the game for the fans - and as much as he bitched about it, Ankh did enjoy some of the fans - but a lot more were in it for the fame and the money. They just never thought that it also meant that they would work a lot of long grueling hours with no rest in sight.

Ankh shifted in his seat, leaning a little to give J a look. There was a slightly off tilt to his head, as if he had one too many joints in his neck. "You're really curious."

[eba02]

J shrugs. "Guess most people don't look at it like that, or if they do, they don't come out an' say it." It's not the best answer, but he's too preoccupied investigating that backbeat that's latched itself onto Ankh's tune to come up with a better one. It belongs to someone, but he can't quite tell who.

Of course, the last thing he needs is for Ankh to get suspicious. "Just wanted an insider's opinion. I didn't figure tabloids an' press releases would give me the whole story on what bein' on the inside is like, so I thought I'd ask."

[connivingbird]

"Most people -" there's a curl to his upper lip, a very visible regal lift to his head at the words "- put on airs of being humble for the public."

Ankh didn't care what the public thought about him, especially these days. He played the music and he attempted to smile for the photographs and he tried to at least be civil for the fans at the fan meets, but he never let on that he was anything then what he was - some punk that had some talent and landed a gig through sheer luck. It wasn't going to magically make him a nicer person, even though his edges could be smoothed by the presence of his bandmates who managed to at least keep him line. Without them around, Ankh just acted like his normal self.

The world was filled with humans and he never really cared for most of them. He had a few that were HIS but the rest, no he didn't care for them.

Shaking his head at that last thought, he pressed the Cores against his skin harder, feeling the burn settle deeper into his bones. He really needed to get that last Core, get rid of the half-baked notions running around in his head.

"All the press is trying to do is make a buck. They aren't willing to get sued by the labels with spewing the real secrets."