interstellar5555 | you wanna be tough. (open!)

Who: Marty and YOU!
What: Nothing better than jamming out to MJ songs, right?
When: April 4th.
Where: Outside a shopping center, maybe? Somewhere super public!
Warnings: TBA.

[ Marty walks onto the plaza of the shopping center, with nothing but his guitar to keep him company. Lately he's just been aching to play something. Maybe it's because of the fact that this whole Fairy thing has made him completely scatterbrained. Also because he's expecting something bad to happen, since...well, he let some things slip. Or maybe worded them incorrectly. Either way, it's left him feeling uneasy, and maybe it's good to get some crap off of his chest.

He quickly opens his guitar case, turning it after a minute or two. Already he's gained the attention of some of the shoppers who can recognize him through the tweets and things like that, but majority are more focused on spending money. Which he doesn't really mind! Because honestly, he's not too sure what to sing, anyway.

There is one song that comes to mind, though.

Before he knows it, Marty starts to sing. This might be a bad idea considering the content of the song, but hey.

He starts off at the perfect tempo, the chords coming to him as natural as they can. Soon enough, he's on a roll! ]

They told him, "Don't you ever come around here.
Don't wanna see your face. You better disappear."
The fire's in their eyes and their words are really clear
So beat it, just beat it.

[ Marty won't object if you want to come along and join in! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Not as much as I used to be, but the classics were part of my childhood, if I might risk dating myself. [His good eye dancing.]

[It's a good time to relax, jam with a new friend, remind himself why he does what he does.] I'd be delighted to sing for you. [Then with a jerk of his head to the passersby, some have drifted away, but a few others are lingering to see what happens next.] And for these folk as well.

(OOC: Remind me to Plurk about the adventures in canned music that we've been having lately: it's been *mad*. :: laughs:: )

[ Dating yourself. Something about how he says that gives Marty a pang of something, but hell if he knows. Either way, he didn't like it. He's just going to focus back on his music now.

This sounds good, though. The crowd responds well to the stranger's offer, and he grins in return. ] Can't keep 'em waiting, can we? [ His question is responded to with cheers and chants. Marty strums the guitar, and nods to his friend. ] Ready when you are!

((ooc- oh my god yes! i need some new music to listen to, haha. i should just drop by your work from the sounds of it!))

[The pale gent looks to the audience and gives them a playful, appreciative wink, tilting his head slightly.] Certainly can't keep such an enthusiastic crowd from a good performance. [And after the initial chords, he'll swing into the first verse, bopping his head and shoulders in time with the music.]

Ridin' along in my automobile
My baby beside me at the wheel
I stole a kiss at the turn of a mile
My curiosity runnin' wild

Cruisin' and playin' the radio
With no particular place to go.

((OOC: A little teaser: the canned music changed channels about five times in the course of my shift. Crazy times!))

[ And the crowd goes wild! Marty starts playing along, not hesitating on one single beat. The two of them flow together like water, and it's hard to imagine that they're not in the same band!

His fingers slide down the struts, and off to the next section they go! ]

((ooc- oh my god. it sounds like a party! at least you don't get tired of the same music, right? :P))

[He's enjoying the energy of it all: the crowd, the boisterous melody and lyrics, and his partner's playing: impressive finger work, it would do Buck Merry proud.]

Ridin' along in my automobile
I'm anxious to tell her the way I feel,
So I told her softly and sincere,
And she leaned and whispered in my ear

Cuddlin' more and drivin' slow,
With no particular place to go.

[On the bridge that follows, he might comically tilt his head, watching Marty's fingers on the strings, impressed and pleased: he might have exaggerated his expression, but his appreciation of the other's playing rings true.]

[ This guy has a great voice, Marty will admit. He's able to keep the crowd (and Marty) sucked in, fueling the energy they create with rhythm of his words. He pays close attention to his friend's body language, pulling little hints on when to make the music a little softer, or a little harder.

Marty looks up with a grin. Doing good! ]

[He'll drop a wink and move back a little bit, indicating he's about ready for the next verse, though in all honesty, for all the dark stuff he might perform himself, he could listen to this young man's playing all afternoon.]

[But once Marty comes out of the bridge, he'll swing into the next verse, with a playful shrug:]

No particular place to go,
So we parked way out on the Kokomo
The night was young and the moon was bold
So we both decided to take a stroll
Can you imagine the way I felt?
I couldn't unfasten her safety belt!

[On that last couple of lines, he'll pull this comical death glare/what the heck? look, as if he's had similar experiences with similarly jammed seat belts or something just as recalcitrant.]

[ Marty's loving his singing. It seems to go great with the simple guitar part he's got; it's swingy, it's old fashioned. Something that's right up his alley.

As the lyrics go on, he can't help but let out a chuckle or two through his playing when he sees the expression on his face. It's absolutely perfect; it matches the lyrics of the song perfectly. You can hear frustration as he sings, though it's more because of the annoyance of the whole seat belt thing instead of something happening now.

The crowd seems to like it too! They all laugh, even those taking videos who's probably going to get an earful because the camera shakes. ]

[He might have spotted the personage with the camera, and he'll playfully point to his own good eye before pointing back, in an "I see you!" way, before swinging into the last verse.]

Ridin' along in my calaboose
Still tryin' to get her belt unloose
All the way home I held a grudge,
But the safety belt, it wouldn't budge
Cruisin' and playin' the radio
With no particular place to go.

[He'll sing with a combination comical death glare/equally comical pout through most of the stanza. On the last two lines, he shrugs, as if to say, 'Ah well, got to make some time with my lady anyway.' before turning his back halfway to the audience, glancing over his shoulder and tilting his head to Marty, as if to say to them, "Half the fun is from his playing" before turning back to watch Marty's playing on the outro.]

Edited 2016-04-26 05:52 (UTC)

[ Normally, Marty would feel pressure when he had an outro this long. There wasn't any backup from the singer, no nothing like that. He was lead guitar, sure, but there was at least something from the singer or the bassist to help him out. Any other time, Marty would be kind of scared.

But he's not scared here! He strums along with the tempo that plays in his head, not missing a single beat. Soon enough he's strumming the last few notes out, before letting the song cut entirely.

He looks over to his buddy, a little out of breath, but smiling all the same. The crowd's cheering too hard for him to talk, so he mouths 'thank you!' ]

[The pale gent is applauding along with the audience, before he pauses and bows to Marty with a playful flourish of one long, graceful hand. He'll mouth back a "Thank *you*", clearly delighted with the performance and with his partner, and with the audience's reaction to both, the energy swirling about them. Someone out in the crowd might call out, 'You guys *rawk*!"]

[ The shout from the back breaks a smile on Marty's face. That's what he plays for! At least, for some of it. Having people call out stuff like that puts the icing on the cake.

After a moment or two of paying attention to the crowd, he turns to his partner. His voice is a little hoarse, but he's going to force himself to talk if he has to. ]

That was heavy! Where'd you learn to sing like that?

I mostly taught myself, though my grandfather encouraged me to keep up with my music: he even put me through music school, telling me to do with it as I wished. And that lead me, ultimately to here. [He says this with another bow, the crowd still going nuts behind him.]

Are you thirsty? I know of a cafe that serves excellent iced tea... [Might be a bit thirsty himself, and he's delighted to share with the lad he's been jamming with.]

you wanna be tough. (open!)

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