Log:The Pretty Lights: First Blood
The Pretty Lights: First Blood | |
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"WHO IS IT?!" | |
Participants | 2017.08.31 First blood is drawn at Majesty Records. Part of The Pretty Lights plot. |
Location | |
"Vinnie asked Ceebee to run away with her," Green says, in apparent non-sequitor. Only, it's so not, and it's said directly to Franklyn. "He agreed to it. Only to immediately welsh on that deal," she says. And oh, if she doesn't look so pleased to be filling in missing details. And to be talking about CB like he's not here. "I'd warn against running off with a drug-fueled teenager-" Is Vinnie a teenager? "-but who listens to me?" Green asks. She shrugs, ever so faintly, ever so innocently. And then she taps the screen, and the overhead music changes from Nine Inch Nails to the ever so soothing vocals of Gainsbourg's L'Homme à tête de chou. Green then looks away from the iPad to the pair. She'll ignore CB's shirt. He should know! And instead she'll focus on what's got people upset. "It's regrettably necessary. Some new trust. Then a new round of interviews and disclosing records. Because The Right Honorable Sir Green is, apparently, expanding his operation." There's a much put-upon sigh. How hard her life, daughter of royalty she is. "You are both welcome to join me. It'd be a lovely vacation," she offers. "I'd pay, of course." There's a faint smile, and a faint shrug. She's not happy, either. And now a set... Inside Majesty Records, there's really nothing going on, save a small group of people chatting. Green, behind the counter. CB and Franklyn in front of it. Green is in a black mock-turtle neck and loose black trousers. Frank is in a men's dress shirt, and jeans. Yes, both women are in trousers. CB, well, he's dressed like CB. Jeans and a shirt with buttons. And to eyes that can see it? There's an odd cloud of static that exists in a state of Twilight. At present, it's drifting around the room, and eventually coming to rest beside Franklyn. It reforms itself into a perfect 2-dimensional rectangle, and soon is 'broadcasting' a very static-y image of Franklyn right back at her. The Franklyn show, until receptions pretty bad.
So Franky goes back to chatting with Green -- they're all standing about near the counter, her and C.B. and Green. Franklyn's dressed in a white button up that's got at least two buttons actually done up, tucked into some dark indigo jeans that flair over platform clogs. Totally in some 1970s French magazine editorial of her own mind. "Yeah so-- oh, oh /really/? Well it isn't surprising, running away is so hot right now - who doesn't want a quick little hop to the Great White North? Seedy motel, some rented car under a fake credit card, no pressure, no problems, no promises..." Franklyn turns, and stares pointedly at C.B. as his voice rises and yells: her expression 100%% 'bitch, /what/?' - incredulous and intense, her head tilting to the side and eyes wide: totally challenging him to keep yelling. If she was wearing earrings? Now would be the time Franky would take them off, because obviously C.B. wants to fight and-- oh there he goes, calming down. Franklyn follows suite, standing up straight but still =looking= at him, as she murmurs tersely: "Behave." Then back to Green, serene smile slipping onto Franklyn's features easy as anything. Did she just glance to the side, right next to her? Maybe. But who cares. She's composed, she's cool, she's like a fucking cucumber. So fucking chilled out. Perfect. So chill. #ChillAF. "...New York? Oh lovely, I wouldn't want to crimp your style. You have fun with daddy's lawyers -- it'll be amazing." CHILL. SHE'S CHILL. #IcedOut #ColdLikeMinnesota
Cerise's clothes have the simple lines and understated cuts of higher-end clothing lines, even if they are simply jeans and patterned tee with longer sleeves. However they, and the leather purse slung over her shoulder, all show signs of wear, pointing to them being quite a few years old. As Cerise flips through the various records, she looks up now and again. Once, she glances to the group at the counter, and dismisses them nearly immediately. She flips through the records a little more and then her head tilts as if realizing something. Her head lifts again and again they rest on the trio, only this time her eyes are narrowed in thought as they eye up Green. A second later, Cerise is circling around the bin of records to approach. "Hey! Don't I know you?" It's up in the air who she could be addressing, but she does seem to be looking more at Green than anyone else.
Anyway. Franklyn is staring. Franklyn is...displeased. And C.B. looks...nervous? Very nervous, actually, but in a squinty-eyed sort of way. The squint only grows deeper the more "chill" Franklyn gets. "What's your deal?" he mutters to her, probably not expecting an answer.
Then Green sucks in a breath and looks up. Right, customers! "Hello, love!" she chirps, to Haruki. "Bauhaus is 80s trash that some foul-smelling goths decided was the second coming of Christ. It is not welcome here," she says, ever so prim and proper like. And then over to Cerise, who gets a polite smile. "Hello-... Oh! Yes, I saw you at Kip's bookstore, wasn't it?" she asks. A gesture to herself. "Amanda Green. Welcome to Majesty Records."
Of course... Suddenly she's putting a hand to the side of her head, like maybe Franklyn's got a bit of a headache coming on. "What deal about what?" Weak reply to C.B., then Franky is glancing over at Green with... a frown. Franklyn is frowning openly now. Maybe someone's Mood is contagious. "...That is very generous of you, however, no. I won't be going to New York." So Fucking Serious. Then she attempts a smile - it looks pained at first, then it softens up. "I'll keep my extra external powercube charged for you; we can talk whenever you're done crushing lawyers into a thick paste." Aww. Then Franklyn is wincing and rubbing at the side of her temples -- her eyes following Green to Haruki as the woman refuses to acknowledge how great Peter Murphy is, the heretic. Frank side-steps, not quite knocking into C.B. but sticking close as she murmurs to, who? Everyone? "...I always preferred Brutalism myself."
Nothing seems to be a miss. There's the choral tones of arguing in the store as a young guy, around twenty slides in and starts towards one of the racks of music AWAY from the gang. He doesn't seem like he wants help. And Green would know this as the kid comes in every payday to pick up some sort of old ass CD. But he's paying customer at least.
"Cerise Hodgson. I'm working there now. Nice to meet you!" Not that anyone asked. She shifts ever so slightly to include Franklyn and CB in the greeting, before her eyes drift to the argument in the back. She frowns in that direction, dismissing it soon enough to greet Haruki, "The art school wasn't bad, but the band was never any good."
Franklyn's head starts to hurt. At first it's like one of those irritating headaches that make you want to slap everyone who talks. But as light and sound pour in it becomes sharp and stabbing. Like an icepick to the back of the brain.
It doesn't help when Franklyn says what she does -- C.B. actually looks flabbergasted. And is maybe about to start yelling again, when suddenly... He SHRIEKS! Because the /thing/ in his pocket is buzzing. Oh, right, C.B. Alexander isn't at all used to carrying around a cell phone, much less keeping it on. Why is it on?! He hastily fishes it out of his pocket and speaks loudly into it, exactly the way your grandpa does when he's using his mobile. "HELLO?! Oh...Caryn." He rubs his temples and sighs. "Yeah. Okay. One sec. Gimme one sec." Putting the phone aside briefly, he mutters to no one in particular, "Be back..." And then starts heading for the door. Haruki gets a brief nod on the way out, C.B. having just noticed him. Cerise gets a glance, but he keeps heading out to the street.
Green's eyes drift back over to Cerise. Right, Customers. "Pleasure, Cerise," she says, with a smile. Then a considering gaze. "Mmm. Brutalism versus Bauhaus school. Let's all get some wine and fight over it?" she asks. Green flashes a gaze over to her regular customer - someone who actually spends money! - and merely gives the young man a smile and a wiggle of fingers. It's flirty. Of course it is! And then everything else comes to halt when CB Alexander shrieks. Green's eyes go wide. She stares at the man, like he might be possessed. But no, just a phone. Green lets out a sigh, and then fixes a soft smile, and wiggles her fingers good bye. She'll not take any parting shots, merely turn to look back at Cerise. "So, working at Homepage... but wearing designer jeans. What a curiosity you are..."
Green and Cerise? They are not focused on. Neither is that nightshift worker spending his hard earned cash. Haruki get's a brief look, which is oddly... Suspicious? -- but it is brief, because Franklyn is trying to step out of... out of... Out of the overhead lights? REALLY? Her? Franklyn? Removing herself from the spot light? Yes. Was that a little whimper? Also a yes; it turns into rapid muttering. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..."
Cerise then pauses, her nose beginning wrinkle as she seems to be sniffing the air. Whatever they were talking about before seems to be forgotten as the woman asks, "Do you smell that?" At the same time, she appears to be *much* more alert, her eyes darting every which way, as if searching for something.
And then comes the smell. As used to - try not to think about it - as Green is to death and flesh and rot and heck evening burning flesh, she's not used to the pain that comes with it. "Cor blimey..." she mutters out, as her own eyes shut tight, and, soon enough, she's doing her best Franklyn impression. Which is to say, rubbing her temples and trying to not let what must be a terrible amount of pain drive her right to her knees. If Haruki or Cerise manage to look over, they'll note a tiny stream of blood is beginning to roll out of one nostril.
For like one second. Then Franky's fingers start to twitch, and she makes a groaning noise, lowering her head a whine of pain as her eyes open halfway. Maybe she's noticed she's got some lipstick or something on that pristine white shirt? Franklyn blinks again. Another petal of red blossoms onto the fabric, then another, then another--- "Amanda? Amanda, something is wrong - Amanda something is wrong, something is wrong, it's wrong, there's--" With every blink, her shirt gets more red. Franklyn raises her head, hands held out trembling in front of her. From her eyes run two streaming tears of blood. Why isn't she totally fucking panicking? Well, Franky seems like she's on the edge, but holding on. Just.
Cerise needs no more than that to bring her back to the counter and after a quick appraisal, her attention focuses on Franklyn. Needed or not, Cerise reaches out to take the other woman's arm and support her, while guiding her to a seat. "Hey ... Hey ... You're OK, I got you... Let me take a look." All teasing is gone now, and Cerise's tone oozes gentleness as she attempts to sooth and reassure. All Amanda gets is a quick glance and a point as Cerise commands, less gently, "Sit."
Franklyn looks frightened - who can blame her really? There's this intense =focused= in her expression, as she stares through what is surely a bloody haze, like she was reading into the way those tears of blood are falling on the fabric of her shirt. What does she think she's doing, a little light driromancy? The girl must be shocked.
There's a bubble of spittle and blood that bursts on her lip, as Franklyn rapidfire speaks; "This is not coming from within the room; I have never spoken to them before." Where's Green's arm? Franky is -GRABBING- at it, her beetle-shell green manicure digging into her forearm and she speaks -rapidfire-, hot and angry but low in volume. "Why did you not teach me how to protect myself?" Wild, angry, bloody eyes -- but Franky continues, hissing whisper. Those near by can for sure hear, even Haruki -- but Franky's trying to be subtle, only... Well... Urgency is wiping that away. "From afar, I do not know where - they see us, and we are being... Where are they? I don't know, I don't know, I don't..." Poor Cerise. She's getting the worst first impression of Franklyn - and damn, Franky can so often make /horrible/ spectacle of herself.
Given a moment more to process, Cerise is again looking around shop, looking for something. She doesn't find it, but she does catch sight of Haruki ushering the customers out and the few left who are hurrying. There's no time to ponder too long, because soon Frankie is talking. Rather than being put off, Cerise's concerned face edges closer to the other woman, asking urgently, "Who is it?"
Franklyn starts to speak, and Green's nodding along, agreeing, like she sees it too. "Yes," she whispers. THen a deep breath. "Yes, well... Fuck!" she hisses. "I didn't know they were after us," she hisses out, a voice meant to be quiet but, well, Cerise and Haruki probably hear it. And then a breath, and Green snaps to action. "I showed you the runes," she says. Time to learn," she orders. And then, rather roughly, she grabs Franklyn's free hand (stealing it away from Cerise if need be) and takes hold of the woman's finger. She swipes Franklyn's finger across the woman's own cheek, capturing up the blood that's there. Next, she leans over, holding Franklyn, guiding her hand, and she starts to use Franklyn's finger as a stylus, and Franklyn's blood as ink, and on the cover of an unfortunately placed Supertramp album (Breakfast in America), she starts to invoke protection. "Nunc autem ab his, qui se defendat nocere nobis..." she whispers out. Then a hiss to Franklyn. "Say it," Green insists. "Nunc autem ab his, qui se defendat nocere nobis."
Then Franklyn is moving, reaching into her bag -- out comes... A gold iPhone? Yes. The screen is blanked, but Franklyn holds it under her face and just -blinks- at it, droplets of blood falling on the surface. Jeez - Franky must be losing her mind, because while Green is using her -other- hand as a stylus to do witchy shit on a Supertramp album (great track, that), Franklyn's lifting a thumb and tracing a bloody drop along the edges of the blank iPhone screen in one smooth circular moment, murmuring something under her breath. Sounds repetitive. Poor Haruki - he's got to deal with all this chaos, all the time. Will he ever hang out with her and Green and not be subjected to a mess Next things next, Franky is just staring down at the blank screen, rocking back and forth and... oh she better not be going into shock. But... Maybe she's not? Because Franklyn's got this -look- in those bloody eyes of hers; they may be glazed over as she stares down at the iPhone, but that expression is stubborn as hell. "Nunc autem ab his, qui se defendat nocere nobis..."
Green sucks in a deep breath, and then she finally releases the other woman's hand. "Did you see anything?" she whispers out, quickly. Yes, she must have figured what that was about. Or at least has a good guess. It's only as an after thought - well after, obviously - that she looks back over, to Cerise and Haruki. She flashes a perfectly polite smile. Nevermind the blood running down her nose, or how she's half-collapsed on Franklyn writing runes in blood. "... Bugger that. Hardly ideal. But nothing to worry about," she says, with that same smile. Which is British for 'I hope we don't all die'.
Was Franklyn supposed to be doing something? Chanting? Focusing? Sitting pretty? Oops. Not gonna happen. Moving to stand, Franky lifts her hands to her head and tugs at her hair, making a very -angry- sound of discontent. Furious, shrill, frustrated. On the plus side? The bleeding from her mouth and eyes seems to have stopped. "What /is/ it? Who? Do =you= know?" Franklyn's turned her bloody focus down on Cerise -- although Haruki gets a very suspicious look for some reason, albeit brief. Franky looks... Franky looks a bit insane right about now. |