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

[badass-charger.livejournal.com]

It was Saturday night and as much as Larch wanted to be at Last Call when his latest treat for Stone arrived and was opened, he had other things to tend to. He had his own show to put on for the club members in a far seedier part of town. A crowd far different than the likes of what Breaker Street probably commanded. That fact suited Larch just fine, he didn’t want to be anything like Stone. This game the shorter man was playing was all they ever need have in common.

The Green Fiend spent the early part of the evening doing what most people assumed he did best, being the DJ and whipping the young, rough crowd into a frenzy of dance and body grinding. He got into the show as much as the audience, dancing, smiling. Laughing. Occasionally, he’d even give in and flirt with a comely woman or two. He enjoyed toying with them, loved their clueless behavior. If it weren’t for the wrecked body of Pippa Kerr cluttering up his bathroom, he’d have likely taken one, if not both, of them home with him tonight.

Well, after tonight he could do just that again. Playing with Pippa and her boyfriend had been entertaining and new, a shake up of his usual routine. It was even interesting to watch the very different ways you could break people down. The woman, the physical destruction—that was easy. The man, well there was more finessing there. It was subtle and slow to build. He’d see what would hopefully be the culmination of his efforts tonight.

Queuing the computers and premixed tracks at his station, Larch nodded to himself. He’d get over to Staten Island, to Last Call and check out Breaker Street’s second half. He had just enough time to do that. He took his own car, took the bridge route across the water, even went so far as to park in the lot adjacent to the bar. He smirked and set the alarm on the Charger, even spent a moment admiring the vehicle, stooped to wipe something from the vanity plates that announced “BADASS 25” before heading into the establishment.

He could hear Stone’s voice while paying the cover charge, picked up the sights and sounds of the rest of the band as he maneuvered through the crowd, edging closer to the stage. Close, but not too close. All he wanted was a good look at Rory’s face.

[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.