Performance--RP with badass_charger, <lj site="livejournal.com" u

[fey_fire]

Takes place after this post.

Why do you keep on hiding from me
I know how it feels to hold you and just how it ought to be
My memories burn and taunt me
Your eyes so softly haunt me
But I'll still wait patiently
If you need to be
hiding from me.

The final harmonies drifted out over the crowd, followed by cheering and applause. Outwardly the scene looked like any night that Breaker Street played at Last Call. Inwardly the band's front man was struggling to put on the performance of his life, when what he really wanted to do was scream.

When Tadhg told him what was in the latest gift from "your newest fan", he'd nearly done just that.

Her finger. The filthy bastard had taken shears to Pippa's finger and then sent it to him. Sick. Hideous. Obscene. No word in any of the three languages he knew could encompass the thoughts sending horror and rage pounding through his gut. Tadhg had refused to let him look in the box, and this time Rory hadn't pushed. Anraí had also been shaken by the now too-vivid picture of Pippa screaming his name while some cac who shared his face cut a piece of her away. And Tadhg -- he'd not seen his little brother look so grim since their mother died more than two decades ago.

But they couldn't give in to emotion, not now. Anraí wore a glamour that changed his features to something unlike himself as he moved through the crowd, searching faces and keeping a sharp eye on anyone who approached Rory or the other members of the band. Tadhg had slipped away to weave the box and its contents into his ever-narrowing search spell, but would be back before the second set. And Rory had the toughest job of all, to marshal his strength to get back on that stage and thrill the crowd, to draw their hearts and minds and belief into utter focus on him in a musical ritual that would fill him with the energy they'd need to heal Pippa's wounds.

If they found her in time.

No. No. They would find her still alive; he had to believe that or lose it completely. A flicker of energy from his ward drew his eyes to the bar's entrance to see a glamour-clad Tadhg returning from his errand. Anything? he sent back.

Nothing yet.

For the love of God, how long was this going to take? Rory started at the feel of a hand on his shoulder, looking up to find a sympathetic Junie. "Rory, are you sure you wanna do the second set? I could take it on if you'd rather head home."

"No, it's okay, a chara." The entire band cared about Pippa as more than just his girlfriend; his heart sank at the thought of the information he was keeping from them. "I can manage." He gave her hand a squeeze as he got up to return to his guitar and mike. When Breaker Street swung into "Done by the Heat", he poured every ounce of his turbulent emotions into setting the place on fire.

Comments

[gifted-hands.livejournal.com]

Rory's panicked identification hit Tadhg like a chill slap of ice water, followed immediately by the hot fury of Anraí's recognition. Even as his own eyes picked Pippa's torturer out of the crowd, he automatically plotted how close the man would come to him and what angle to take to come up on him from behind ...

Wait for it. Collecting an abandoned beer bottle on his way, he affected the slightly exaggerated movements of someone a few swallows past a happy buzz. As he approached his target, he let out a cheerful "Heeyy, Joey!" in a voice that sounded far more California than County Galway, slapping his free hand down on the shorter man's shoulder at the same time.

[badass-charger.livejournal.com]

Larch set his jaw and clenched his fists until knuckles popped. He tolerated the random pats on the back, fist bumps and other idiotic pleased-crowd behavior when he was working a show, it was part of the job. But this? No. He didn’t like unanticipated touch, he certainly didn’t like being pawed at while he was trying to make his exit. He had things to do.

He turned around and finding the assailant to be taller than himself, tipped his head back. The posture might have made some people think Larch felt inferior or threatened, but the dark, cold hatred in his eyes as he glared at the other man said something else entirely. He didn’t say anything, just continued to stare before knocking Tadhg’s hand from his shoulder abruptly.

Drunk asshole.

[gifted-hands.livejournal.com]

Tadhg's stomach muscles tensed at the bile in the hazel eyes, but the blond, buzz-cut muscle-boy he was playing was slightly too drunk for the glare or hand slap to have full impact. So he took a step back that was not quite a stagger and took on an air of boozy, cheery contrition.

"Sorry, dude! You look just like a buddy of mine from the back. Well, kinda." With a shrug and a beer-bottle salute, he melted back into the crowd, leaving the other man to continue on his way.

[badass-charger.livejournal.com]

Dude? He made a disgusted noise as the drunk idiot stauntered away. Fucking tourists. It was bad enough when there was local garbage in his way, he didn't need some surfer dude from who knows where wanting to hang ten on his evening.

Larch did pause again, turned back towards the stage. Rory Stone wasn't taking the mic again. In fact--oh, that's beautiful. The pansy-ass was putting his guitar back in its case. Just can't go on any more, can you, lover-boy?

The singer's wrecked performance only made Larch all the more eager to get back home, back to his current project and finish the matter. He didn't know where Stone lived, but he had Pippa's address. He'd be sending at least one part of her back home. Hopefully, Rory would find it.

Larch had to admit it wouldn't be such a great parting gift, after all, Pippa's face wasn't quite the same without all those long red curls to frame her pale face.

[gifted-hands.livejournal.com]

Once assured that the bastard was watching the stage and not him, Tadhg angled toward Anraí. As they passed each other, he slipped his older brother a stray hair he'd just collected from his doppelganger's collar and kept walking.

Stick with him and stay in touch, no matter what. And if you can buy Rory and I some time--

Anraí had banked his anger with pure determination. A tail just bad enough that he spots me a couple of times, but good enough that he takes me seriously. He won't want to lead me back home, not with Pippa there. You let me know when you've gotten her out.

Rory. Tadhg turned to see his brother collecting his motorbike helmet and waving aside Morrie's opinion that someone else should drive him home. I'm headed for Pippa's. Join me there as soon as you can. We've got all we need now. As Rory looked in his direction, he fingered the remaining two hairs he'd appropriated. The bastard's ours.