exsiliumlogs | cold song

Entry tags:

cold song

Date & Time: Januarytimes
Location: le monsterhouse
Characters: Johnny and Joey
Summary: Winter is hell for acoustics
Warnings: ?

[Joey sneaks into the house Johnny had kindly offered as place to stay with a backpack full of old-world paints, brushes, parchments, and...and cat gut strings. strings for the guitar.

truth be told, he has no idea if this is going to work, but he needs an E-string again!

being quiet is something he can do well enough already, but he's tiptoeing along to keep from disturbing anybody, seeking out the little under-the-bed hideaway he'd stashed his poor guitar. this thing's seen just about as much action in this wild world...poor thing needs more TLC than ever.]

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[The house for non-humans wasn't much of a house. The old office building was being fixed up, but was a long way from being a home yet. Jericho didn't have to worry about sneaking around though. Humans were still welcome visitors here, and finding Johnny's room on the second floor would be easy - just follow the sound of the electric guitar. He's currently playing some Hendrix, his low and gravelly voice echoing down the hallway with it.]

[Joey stops near the door, drawn much more by the sound than actually knowing the right way to go at this point.

he waits and listens, letting the song play its course, wondering what it's all about. Johnny's style is something almost completely different from his own, so there's still a lot to learn. he spends some of this time quietly kicking himself for not taking the chance to at least try and learn more...even jam? a little?

the thought makes him nervously queasy, though.

Johnny gets a little bit of applause at the end of it, with Joe meekly peeking in with a small smile.]

[Johnny was seated on an old office chair in his room, not expecting to have anyone be listening. Those that live there have gotten used to Johnny's playing, and have gotten good at ignoring it. He looks a little surprised at first. In his hands is a lovely new blue Gibson Les Paul.]

Oh, hey man. Didn't see ya there. Thanks. You can come in, ya know.

[Not that there was much to sit on in his room, or much of anything else at this point. There was another chair, though, and a futon-like bed on the floor in the corner.]

[he ducks his head, grinning sheepishly with a kind of pardon me look as he steps inside, shifting and letting the strap of his bag slide down off his shoulder and onto the crook of his arm; it gets set carefully to a side as he maneuvers around to keep his rickety old guitar case from banging anything up in the room.

it's set down with more care than the bag, with Joe crouching over it while still lifting his head to observe Johnny and the new, blue shiny. that's different...]

[Johnny holds the guitar up a little.] Check it out. Ain't it a beauty? 'S been years since I got my hands on an electric guitar, and I used to have one just like this back home. My friend picked me one up for Christmas. Damn dear died when I saw it. Whattaya think?

["Friend". Yes. Johnny looks down at the guitar with a fond look, strumming it a few times. It's plugged into an amp with solar panels to charge it, too. A gift from the same friend. Blaine spoils him.]

[beautiful he mouths, making the sign with his hand as he does so. to him, it looks almost too pretty to touch. imagining trying to carry that around with all the craziness in Exsilium...

speaking of, he kneels down and sets to lifting his veteran acoustic up out of its ill-fitting case. sans one string, a bit dry and cracked in places, it's still playable. it just needs a bit more tenderness.

he sighs, carefully running his hand down the body of it, just below that missing E. time to experiment.

Joey rummages through the backpack he brought, lifting a wrapped parcel. opened, it's a coil of strings. he holds them up to show Johnny. whatcha think?]

I was gonna ask if ya needed one. I stole a ton 'a spares of everythin' last I went on a supply run. Even if they carried 'em here, it's not like it's always easy travellin' into town from here.

[He coked a thumb at some duffel bags and boxes he still had stowed away in a corner. Some clothes and music supplies was pretty much all he had now. But that's okay, that's all he needed.]

[he gawks.

...oh.

wow. did he...really...yes. yes Joey definitely went off to Renaissance Italy in a desperate search for strings when he could've just asked Johnny if he had spares.

he looks despairingly at his own sad, cat-gut set as he sets it down, feeling like he swallowed the poor cat those strings are made of.]

[Johnny's face falls when he sees Jericho's expression. Oh. OH. Oh geez.]

Wait, did ya bring those for me?! Dude, that's awesome. Trust me, I need all the spares I can ever get. When I first started trainin' with Coby, I got so strong so fast that I musta broke a hundred strings til I adjusted. I still do it sometimes. Gotta rock a little less hard. [He smirks a little. He also gets up from his chair and goes over to one of the boxes in the corner and starts rooting through it.]

Speakin' of, I picked up some stuff. Got one for you, one for Frank... [Francouer, he means. But out of the box he pulls a small stack of guitar tab books, and he pulls one out of the pile and hands it to Jericho. It's tabs of selected Rolling Stones greatest hits. Johnny's going to teach everyone how to rock or die trying.] Here.

[the offer comes as a surprise; Joey's still fumbling to put the strings aside, preferably away from his guitar in favor of what Johnny's already procured.

he hesitates, eyes darting from the book to Johnny and back again...and back once more to Johnny.

...For me?

he sure didn't feel like he'd earned any kind of present. hesitating a half a beat more, he reaches and accepts the book, mouth still pursed with questions. what is it? what's it for...? for guitars, is the first direct answer the cover gives, but he has to look up to Johnny to confirm.]

'S all yers, man. I picked up a bunch, and once I get this place cleaned up, it'll be a practice space. Place for books, some more amps, and some insulation for the walls so Rinth stops bitchin' to me about the noise. Anyway, I figure there ain't that many musicians here that I know of, but I thought I'd spread the gift of rock around, y'know? Maybe I'll even get yas playin' metal someday.

[Johnny chuckles to himself at that thought, and plopped back down into his chair, picking his guitar back up.] If ya need any help with it, lemme know. I know a good amount 'a Stones songs. [He strums out the first few chords of All Over Now for emphasis.]

[gee...

for someone who looks like a bad guy, Johnny's pretty much a nice one, where Joe's concerned. he smiles meekly, a little pink in the cheeks, terribly flattered.

he nods and mouths OK at the offer, eyes flickering down to Johnny's hands as he makes the guitar sing once again.]

All I ask is to hear ya play somethin' once ya learn it. I wanna hear how ya do, okay? Then maybe we can play some of those songs together. 'Course, we could play some stuff right now, too. [He nods his head to Jericho's guitar.]

[yeah? Joey's head tilts a little. months ago, the prospect would actually frighten him, but...but for how long he's felt so uninspired and mixed up, the idea of being able to make a little music with a friend is incredibly appealing.

that's why he nods, giving another OK that crinkles his nose with the smile.

that means, of course, he'll need all six strings. he taps at the empty space on the neck of his guitar, pointing at the strings Johnny's brought.

can i buy a vowel? how about an E.]

Oh, right. Yeah, we oughta do somethin' about that. [He'll look over Jericho's guitar to see what he needs, then pull a string out of the pile he needs.] Ain't gonna do rockin' much without it. You need help restringin' it?

[he shakes his head. no, he can handle this much (and thank goodness it doesn't have to be cat guts he's stringing).

he's content to string his guitar while Johnny's free to watch or play a little on his own in the meantime, and Joey can pluck and tune between bouts of Stones or Zep or whoever's foremost in Johnny's mind at the time; it's all Greek to Joe.

once he's done, though, and hears a fair enough E in tune, he gives a pair of cautionary strums, looking up at Johnny.

how, exactly, are we rocking into Mordor now?]

Ya ready? You should go ahead. I never got to hear ya play much, ya know. [And if he can, Johhny would join in. He wants to hear what Jericho's got, first.]

[Johnny's a friend, and that helps, but Joey is still terribly shy. he ducks his head and glues his eyes onto the neck of his guitar to follow his fingers.

he doesn't strum out anything that'd do Jagger proud; it's his own quality. delicate and careful plucking at individual strings, making his improv conversational in an introverted kind of way.]

[Johnny might be a loud rocker and metal head, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate what Jericho did. He couldn't help but think that the kid was holding back, though.]

C'mon, man, I ain't gonna pick on ya or anythin'. Friggin' relax.

[He says it all with a grin, though. Sure, a few years ago, Johnny probably would have teased Jericho or anyone else who didn't play rock, but even he's grown up a little now.]

[the little jab makes him grin sheepishly, acknowledging he's been caught up in his own self-conscious little bubble. he nods and ducks his head again, this time less for stage fright and more to concentrate on what he wants to do.

what he does impresses the illusion of conversation even moreso than before, as if previously the sentences were blocky and missing conjunctions – babytalk. here, though, is sophistication and an eloquence with the way notes are sounded and strings plucked and – just the way a speaker picks up the habits of their conversation partner – a little drag down the neck the way Johnny himself would do rocking out.

he lifts his head, mouth quirked and eyebrows raised. well? how about that?]

[Johnny's grinning just a bit, with a few nods and a few claps.] Now that's more like it. I knew ya had it in there somewhere. Never be embarrassed about playin', man. Shove it in everyone's face. Make 'em listen. [He shrugs, still grinning. That's always what's worked for him.]

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cold song

SORRY FOR LATENESS. my internet hasn't been cooperative

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