come sail away

[4thdimensional]

Who: Doc Brown Will Brandt and you! Especially if you play music.
What: Failures of scientific studies about music and the strange phenomena surrounding it.
When: Late April, various afternoons
Where: Around Vista City
Warnings: Weird old man singing. Be warned.


aural experiment #1: morning

[Doc's finally earned enough money to cobble together a few small devices. The one he sets on the outdoor café table at breakfast looks oddly like a classic record player. It plays a soft classical tune, all while the man sitting behind it appears to be absorbed in his newspaper.

The inside of said newspaper is actually covered in scribbled notes. Nothing interesting is happening yet, but he remains optimistic.

...at least, until the record makes a horrible screeching noise for some reason. Doc slams down the newspaper to hurriedly turn it off.]

I'm not sure the classics agree with me anymore. My apologies.

aural experiment #2: afternoon

[Undeterred by his earlier failure with the record-er, Doc wanders the streets in the afternoon with some strange-looking headphones attached to his ears. They cover the back half of the ear and curve outward, and he hides it, but there's a thin microphone-like device in his hands too.

Should anyone look too closely at him, he immediately picks up the 'mic' and begins to sing in a weathered and untrained voice, waving an arm like he's conducting an invisible orchestra:]

I'm sailing away, set an open course for the virgin sea...

[Those in the vicinity may want to leave it.]

aural experiment #3: night

[Doc saves his best attempt for last: a last-ditch device more compact than the previous ones. There's a lot of musical activity at night---sound pouring out of each club, each concert hall, the headquarters...he strolls around each of these places, humming quietly to himself.

He occasionally scribbles in a notebook, but his findings will have to be analyzed later. That odd thing in the air that he can't name...it bothers him deeply, and the mystery continues to taunt him. Solve this and they can free the others. Or can they?

As he strolls back to his too-small apartment, he finds himself singing once more, though this time in a more subdued manner.]

Come sail away with me, come sail away...

Comments

All of it.

[worthlesspride]

[So, Tooru Oikawa had gone out to get some air, get some exercise in. His knee is still bothering him, but there's really not much he can do about that. Pain is going to be constant for the rest of his life now he happens to be at the cafe that morning. He's a big fan of science fiction, so when it looks like the old man is doing a mad science experiment in front of him Tooru's intrigued. He keeps his distance, not wanting to disturb the mad scientist or get caught in the cross fire.

But Tooru makes note of something very interesting. The instrument he's working on looks like a record player.

He goes over the facts he knows; he's been kidnapped and turned into a professional musician. There are people here to rescue him and others like him. Perhaps this scientist is amongst the rescuers?

He watches wincing when the device makes that awful racket. After that he has to leave. He has physical therapy to attend and if wants any sort of the old movement back he has to go. Still he makes a note to check on this man later.

Later, after his therapy and before he's scheduled to practice he sees the man again. He follows him around, keeping a distance, only occasinally stopping to lean on his cane. He hates Santiago more the he hates Ushiwaka. That's a feat he never thought he'd achieve.

Then the mad scientist is beginning to conduct... and holy crap that's an awful sound.

And so Tooru keeps stalking the mad scientist, watching everything he does. He knows in his gut this man is connected to Sugawara, but how?

So just when the old man seems to be done for the night Oikawa steps forward. He thanks everything holy the Xie An is no longer their manager and Ishtar is. He has more freedom to dress, so instead of the usual Victorian Goth get up An would have him in, Oikawa is dressed down; black polo shirt and khaki pants (to hide the scars on his knee)]

Find out anything interesting?

[4thdimensional]

[Doc's had an odd feeling about today, but he couldn't quite describe it. Of course he's being watched by someone---with the shakeups his little group is causing, the labels are bound to be on the defensive.

But this is someone he's seen in the news---a musician. The other label---Pride, he thinks. And another one interested in science. Doc looks up at him with a friendly but faintly cautious smile.]

Results are inconclusive at the moment. There's an abundance of musical energy in this town, like no other place I've ever lived. Have you noticed?

[worthlesspride]

[Musical energy... okay, that was weird, but he was going to roll with it]

I...

Well, I know something weird is going on. Something with Santiago and Blanche I'm assuming.

[4thdimensional]

[Those names catch his attention. The rescuers can't show their whole hand, of course, but he can try to help out. He lowers his voice.]

We can discuss it, but not here. Come to the garage with me?

[He points at Beekman's, a short distance away.]

[worthlesspride]

Hmm... That's not where you work is it? It'd be like leading them right to you. And I don't want to get you in trouble with them.

[He remembers all too well what they did to him when he got in trouble with Santiago.]

Is there another place we can meet?

[4thdimensional]

Not that garage, the other garage. Always have more than one base.

[He's always kept at least two. Standard procedure...though given his limited funding, the secret one is a fair bit more dilapidated and slightly dangerous than his workplace.]

[worthlesspride]

Right, of course. Lead the way then.

[This was going to be good. Tooru could feel it in nerd heart]

[heymcfly]

[ Marty's spent some time at the club. Signing autographs, snapping selfies with fans, the usual evening for a rock star. Maybe he had a drink, nothing more than two, but overall the night was good. Pictures of him were shooting on Twitter, fans were happy. Things were pretty good right now.

Marty wouldn't say he's tipsy, but he's definitely feeling a little odd. Drinking anything like alcohol just doesn't sit well with him. He'd rather have sugary drinks rather than a beer. The taste always makes him want to be sick. Something possessed him to try and have one or two tonight, though. He's been feeling like this since he woke up in his room after his bodyguard said he passed out from overheating. Weird.

He doesn't pay attention to the guy crossing on the other side of his street, until he hears the singing. Marty looks up, and sees Will-

No, not Will. He blinks, and memories come flooding back into his head. Hands fly up and dig into his hair, but it doesn't hurt at all. His head is buzzing with all of the thoughts; a time traveling Delorean, standing out with him in a parking lot late at night, watching a dog become the first time traveler ever. Marty can see the future, the past. A Delorean being struck by lightning, followed by a horrible feeling of dread-

And he can see when he first met Doc. Breaking into his lab, being caught trying to steal parts for his amp so Needles wouldn't beat the shit out of him. It all comes back to Marty in a few seconds.

He quickly turns to his friend, wide-eyed. ] Doc!?

[ Marty probably sounds winded, but he staggers forward. ] D-Doc! Oh my god, Doc...

[4thdimensional]

[It's late. Doc's taken to spending a lot of time out at night when the city comes alive. The data may yet be useful, but more importantly, he fixates on the stars.

He's never been one for superstition or believing in things like wishes, but the appearance of a ghostly figure a few nights ago had certainly challenged his preconceptions. He'd been asked to make a wish, and only one thing had sprung to mind: he'd petitioned his ghostly ally to help Marty any way he could.

If all went to plan...with any luck, he wouldn't be in pain anymore. Doc certainly wasn't expecting a miracle, but even to see him doing better from a distance would be adequate. Not enough, but adequate.

He's thinking back on that particular mystery when a painfully familiar voice yanks him back into reality. Marty's voice, calling for him. Not 'madman', not 'weirdo', not 'Brandt'...but did he say 'Doc'? His head snaps up, silver hair flying.

And just when Doc isn't entirely sure, Marty says it again. And he's approaching slightly unsteadily. Doc strides forward to meet him.]

Marty! How are you feeling?

[He manages to restrain his normal overbearing concern just a little, hands steady at his sides. He doesn't know how much Marty truly remembers, and he can't risk scaring him off again.]

[heymcfly]

Everything. I remember everything.

[ He also remembers not knowing exactly who Doc was at the beginning. When his friend first arrived and Marty had seen him there...oh god, the blueprints. Marty called him a madman, didn't he? He didn't register the feelings on his friend's face at the time, but he knows for a fact that what he said probably stung Doc to the core. He...couldn't place where he was from, but Doc was called that a lot. Marty never called him that.

How did it feel when your best friend called you a freak? Marty's hit with a pang of guilt so strong, it could have knocked him off his feet. ]

I'm, I'm sorry. [ His voice cracks. ] I'm really sorry. A-All that shit I said, and I shouldn't have...I didn't mean...- [ At the time, he damn well meant it. But now? ] 'M sorry...

[4thdimensional]

[Everything. Marty remembers. Those priceless memories together are still theirs, still there...and for the first time since this started, they're well and truly friends again. It's the best news he's heard in a long while.

Doc remains silent in the face of Marty's apologies at first, but his reaction's written all across his face. His warm, relieved smile never wavers, in fact it only grows by the second as the realization that they're friends again continues to sink in, and when Marty seems to be done, he leans over, tightly grasps his shoulders, and gives them a reassuring squeeze.

There's so much he wants to say, but they shouldn't talk out in the open. Doc starts guiding Marty to Beekman's Garage---it's just off to the roadside, a minute's walk at most, and deserted at this hour. When he's confident that they're not being watched, he talks, eyes fixed on Marty all the while.]

Marty, I chose to do this with the full awareness that your memories of our friendship were suppressed. With your whirlwind social life, I was even more out of place in your world here than in Hill Valley. It was only to be expected...

[After a moment, his expression turns apologetic too.]

...and for my part, I'm sorry that my repeated attempts to awaken those memories caused you so much pain. I asked my spectral ally for his assistance with that, I hope he helped you.

[Doc wrinkles his nose. He really doesn't like to say that he believes in ghosts, but they've pulled off a miracle here.]

[heymcfly]

[ Marty swears he can see Doc smiling as he continuously spews apologies out of his mouth. In a way, Marty is afraid that he's just seeing it. After all the crap he put him through, why would Doc want to be his friend? No doubt he's found some other guys to be around with, or buddies to hang out with at the shop. Why Marty?

His thoughts about this grow worse as he's led to Doc's little garage. When they finally step inside, he looks to his friend with tired eyes. And he waits for what he has to say.

But...it's all okay. Doc did all of this, knowing that Marty would probably be an asshole, and was too busy going around signing autographs, or taking selfies with people, whatever. But he actually wanted to bring Marty back from all of this. It was touching, to be frank. Did he even have friends like this anymore, outside Defying Atmosphere?

And then Doc apologizes. He remembered the sunglasses, and how things went blank after that. Why in the world he had so much troubles with remembering his friend, Marty's not sure. But it's odd, that's to say the least. ] Don't worry 'bout it, Doc. It's all in the past now, right? [ As much as he wants to beat himself up, Marty refuses. Doc came here for a reason, and him sulking and feeling bad for calling names that he's probably heard before won't help. ]

What's this spectral stuff you're talkin' about though?

[4thdimensional]

As we move toward a brighter future.

[Doc can't entirely relax, but the relief is written all over his face. He's almost pathetically glad to have Marty back, even if they don't have long under the circumstances. He takes a seat next to his friend, just like old times.]

The other night, an incorporeal blue being appeared before me. I didn't gather much other than his name---Octave. He offered some sort of spiritual gift, and so I asked if he might begin to heal your pain. I'm assuming he did?

2

[snapcrackleburn]

[ Roy spends time among some of the best of singers at Pride but he can still say sincerely that the sound of someone genuinely singing in a heartfelt matter is at the very least charming, even if it's not on key.

Whoever this fellow is, he seems to be very into what he's doing. He already has the perfect hair for a conductor or wild rocker. What song is this? He even has a microphone- is it portable karaoke? Roy stops on the street to watch. ]

[4thdimensional]

[Doc carries on with that soft smile. There are countless emotions running through him, but for the moment, his greatest hope is freedom for one and all. It fuels him.]

I've got to be free, free to face the life that's ahead of me
On board, I'm the captain, so climb aboard
We'll search for tomorrow on every shore
And I'll try, oh Lord, I'll try to carry on

[He seems to sway to the beat as he goes, ignoring the looks of passersby for the most part...but one in particular seems to be watching him more closely than the rest. Something about him makes Doc stand straight, tucking the recorder behind his back. He'll collect from it later.]

Good afternoon! Ah, this wonderful weather sometimes awakens a spring fever in me...

[That's definitely a sheepish smile.]

[snapcrackleburn]

I see. You seem well prepared- you even have a mic with you. Are you trying to record some outdoor singing?

[ It's a bit noisy on a busy street for that, which makes Roy wonder more. ]

[4thdimensional]

Yes, and other instrumental music. It's quite a bit to sort through, but I remain optimistic.

[Really, he shouldn't, but he has to try.]

For a city with a thriving music industry, I've found so little on the subject.

[snapcrackleburn]

Really? What type of information are you looking for? Perhaps I can help. I'm in the business actually.

[ If it's something more intellectual he's looking for wouldn't the city library have a large collection of texts on the subject? ]

[4thdimensional]

I'm hoping to learn by observing. We have so many talented bands in town that it's really quite...energizing.

[He lifts a brow. Yes, he knows you're a special one.]

2

[sailorlaughter]

'Cause Iiiiiiiiii've GOT TO be FREEEEEEE!

[Maybe Pinkie shouldn't be joining in on random, acapella karaoke with a random old guy on the street. Maybe.]

[4thdimensional]

[Doc's quite surprised when he hears a louder, brighter voice joining in. But he'll press on anyway---it's new data.]

Free to face the life that's ahead of me
On board, I'm the captain, so climb aboard...

[He quirks a brow in her direction. This could be interesting.]

[sailorlaughter]

[Pinkie's not too sure why she's doing this. Maybe she does miss performing a little? This is more in line with what she remembers, singing in the streets to serve no one but herself and her friends. Not that this guy is her friend, but he seems nice enough.]

We'll search for tomorrow on every shore
And I'll try, oh Lord, I'll try...

[C'mon, random crazy hair dude, belt it with her!]

[4thdimensional]

[Oddly, he can't seem to shrink away. Something's carrying him forward, onward...he'll subtly click the recorder pen to keep it going, but even that motion is done in time with the beat pulsing through him.]

I look to the sea, reflections in the waves spark my memory
Some happy, some sad
I think of old friends and the dreams we had

[He hasn't had a lick of musical training in his life, yet he seems to be in harmony with this familiar young woman. Her energy's infectious, and he's soon making sweeping gestures as he sings.]

[sailorlaughter]

[Pinkie can tell he hasn't had any training. Not to be rude, but that sort of thing would make her scared for him if he were in Pride. It's nice to see someone who's not a musician having fun with music anyway though!

It's nice to see anybody having fun with music.]

We live happily forever, so the story goes
But somehow we missed out on that pot of gold
But we'll try best that we can to caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarry on!

[4thdimensional]

[Oh, he's failing, but he's really trying. It's enjoyable, yes, and he'll take on the crowd with a smile. Let them think he's off his rocker, nothing he's not accustomed to.]

A gathering of angels appeared above my head
They sang to me this song of hope, and this is what they said
They said come sail away, come sail away
Come sail away with me
Come sail away, come sail away
Come sail away with me

[He looks to her at those next few lines, accidentally attempting something that a more talented musician would make into a harmony.]