ONE NIGHT ONLY

[construing]

CHARACTERS: everyone (including new characters!)
LOCATION: ximusic + common room
DATE: night, october 1st
CONTENT: come by for a night of good music, good food, and better drinks
WARNINGS: none for now, will warn as needed

I love rock 'n' roll

An announcement goes up the day before: Murderface: The Band: The Show. Location and time are printed beneath along with a promise of a "special surprise." Arrive early and you can catch the current members of the band warming up or happy to talk someone's ear off. At the promised time, the lights dim but for those on the stage. Gwen's drumming gets inside one's bones; Wei Wuxian's dizi belongs on a stage with Lizzo; Lan Xichen alternately opens with the deep, tranquility of a guqin or arms himself with a xiao; and Newt…Newt is Newt, tearing the stage on his electric guitar. As a treat, he also provides the vocals to a few songs. There is even space left for the band's honorary member should he choose to join in.

The band plays a mix of covers and original music. Even after their show ends, the music doesn't. Gwen and Newt rigged a music player and the playlist—curated to include something for every taste—plays into the early morning. The music room's instruments are available for anyone who fancies a turn. And for those who do not have or should not be trusted with instruments, clap, stomp, dance, sing along—and enjoy the night.

Pour some sugar on me

In the common room, just outside the Ximusic room, courtesy of their ever enterprising (and not-so-artificial) AI comes the promised "surprise": food and drinks, each hailing from an Orber's home world. Even the new Orbers are represented! This might be their favorite treat, a famous dish, a representative drink… What they have in common: each one says "home" to someone.

There is enough to share with friends (or hoard for yourself if this is you.) So eat, drink, and be merry (though maybe not too merry; the alcohol proof of a few bottles can double as fuel.)

Comments

[preseance]

Ah... well, '39 was a few years ago for me, yet. It's 1947, so let's not be too hasty on that seventy-some years.

（ lucky he's one to take things in stride, that seventy year assertion don't barely make him blink. instead, he just shakes his head halfly and pushes his hat a little higher on his brow. ）

I listened to the little gal runnin' the systems... Lord knows I ain't even gonna try to wrap my head around the whole dang thing at the moment, but. Bein' here is good enough.

[construing]

That's the spirit! 〈 she shoos him before the microphone. 〉 Now, be good enough into this microphone while I check the sound.

[preseance]

（ he lets himself be shoo'd, as one does, an' then stands there awkwardly for a spell before startin' out in a rendition of the st. crispin's day speech by the bard himself. gene may not have a head for letters an' all the rest, but he ain't much for forgettin' the spoken word.

by the time he gets to by jove, I am not covetous for gold, he pauses an' glances on up at her. ）

That plenty? I ain't so used to, ah... havin' to check microphones an' the like.

[construing]

Honestly, I just kinda want to listen to the entire thing now! 〈 she calls back. 〉 But, yeah, you're good!

〈 she flashes him two thumbs up for good measure.

once she's close by the stage again, she prompts, 〉 You wouldn't happen to sing, would you?

[preseance]

（ he laughs, shakin' his head some. robbie's the singer in the family, voice like an angel, plenty of evenings whiled away with him diggin' old welsh songs outta the hands of hungry ghosts. ）

So long as you don't need me to go up or down more than an octave in either direction an' I ain't expected to raise my voice much above my speakin' level, sure I sing. I can roughly carry a tune in a bucket.

（ he gives her a cheeky l'il smile, eyes crinklin' at the corners. he looks older than his twenty-four years — between the war an' the stress an' all, gray already touched to his temples. ）

I do play piano, though. Suspect I might be a touch outta date with any songs you're lookin' for, though.

[construing]

〈 a magic word was said. 〉 Good news! That is what practice is for.

〈 and if she could get lan xichen to cover linkin park she can get 1947 to play led zeppelin. 〉

You don't know me so I'm trying very hard not to scare you off, but please come by practice. And you should definitely come tonight. See the band for yourself.

[preseance]

Respectfully, Gwen, I'm a hard man to scare.

（ is he flirting? he is absolutely flirting, nose wrinkled up with the force of his cheeky smile. ）

Wouldn't miss it. Don't suppose there'll be dancin'?

（ look... he came up in the age of swing, an' lord knows dancin' was one way fellas kept their morale up in the war. lack of gals near the front lines meant that a fella would grab the man who'd been beside him in a foxhole an' tug him out on the floor for a turn soon as the radio played a familiar tune, too. it just ain't the s same sorta place in agathine. ）

[construing]

〈 girl who remained oblivious to three of her best friends being in love with her…does not notice. 〉

You suppose correctly. I know for a fact there’ll be big band because I included it.

[preseance]

Gal after my own heart.

（ he sketches out a bow in the air, complete with a sweep of his hat off his head. ）

There anythin' else you needin' another pair'a hands for?

[construing]

You can stand down, soldier. 〈 she playfully salutes him. 〉

Though if you really want to stick around, I’ll find something for you.

[preseance]

（ soldier, she says, and something goes a touch brittle in his smile in the space of an indrawn breath. it's a fair assumption to make, he supposes — just about every able-bodied fella in his era an' age range went off to answer the call, but he's been back a year from the occupation of germany, an' there's somethin' mighty uncomfortable about a gal from seventy years on pickin' up on it so easy.

there ain't no part of him that regrets goin'. but he ain't one to speak on it. ）

You find me somethin', an' I'll do it.

（ his tone stays level an' playful. ain't her fault, an' he ain't about to make it so. ）

[construing]

〈 put him to work she does, though with a much lighter load than he would have had otherwise. what’s the point of super-strength if she cannot carry a couple (very heavy) things by herself?

by the time the work is done, the stage looks like it’s about to see a show, the sound is immaculate anywhere one stands, and the food and drinks have been set up outside.

for his help, gwen grants gene the highest honor she can bestow: first one to eat a cronut. medal of honor, who. 〉

[preseance]

（ an' lordy, it was delightful! ）