multiversallogs | 001 : the ground is hard, and the view is much nicer from the sky

Who: Bonnie and you
What: Busking! And possible adventures.
She's just playing in random spots, for now, but she's the curious type so we can have whatever kind of adventures you like! If you'd like empath/odd visions adventures, please hit my plotting/powers post over here
Where: All over. Is there somewhere your character is likely to be? Bonnie does odd things, so she could be busking in the oddest of places. If you can't decide, park or street corner or some random, shady part of town all work just dandy.
When: ALL DAY. All night, too.
Warnings: Bonnie's mind is scary place and she's got a severe drug addiction, so narrative could be dark/violent and allude to that, at the very least. I'm open for these threads going all over the place, I'll edit as necessary.
(If anything happens in a thread that is warning worthy, maybe slap it in the subject so that people have a heads up before I edit here?)

And here's a clip of Zooey Deschanel singing, just because I can.

There are times when have a guitar cradled in her lap and strings singing under her fingertips can make all kinds of dark things slink away. And sitting here, just sitting and playing, it makes things seem like they aren't so bad, because sitting and playing could mean that Rowan is pulling a coin out of an old lady's ear, or a long row of handkerchiefs from a six year old's sleeve. Tasha is eating fire, swallowing it whole and smacking her lips as the flames are absorbed without a trace of pain, and Gabe... Gabe is keeping an eye on them all, their absurd little family, frowning thoughtfully as he wrestles with a balloon animal that was meant to be a dog but wound up like a giraffe.

The scene in her head doesn't match up with what's around her, but that isn't anything new. Most times, she prefers it, even if today is when she sees is what she wants to see. The images jostling for attention are light and happy, let her relax and lean against the wall at her back as if she belongs here. Songs tumble in a casual, easy pace, her guitar the superior instrument to her voice, which is soft – might be self-conscious, if she weren't so dreamy. She doesn't mind so much; without her, the guitar wouldn't be able to play, and with the guitar she doesn't mind singing here and there.

So here she is, guitar case open, imagining a whole grand show that isn't there. Maybe she and her guitar have seen better days.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

His feet are killing him by the time he pulls his coat on and steps out of the Glory Shada and onto the streets of the now very familiar neighborhood of Mog Hill. It's late now that his shift-- twelve hours today, thanks to another support staffer calling in sick-- is over, and the sun's been down for a few hours now. He's okay until the wind picks up and the cold bites into his skin, causing him to wince a little in discomfort. His body may be regulating its temperature more effectively now that his burn scars have been taken care of, but Rex is still somewhat sensitive to the cold, so the weather compounds his unhappiness as his aching feet carry him toward Griss Twist (a neighborhood he really hadn't envisioned himself living in, but, well, the apartment was cheap, which put it in his price range).

A frown's fully set in his face by the time he trudges up to the bar he lives below, and he pauses at the entrance. It's actually quiet tonight-- totally dead, imagine that. Rex relaxes, smiling imperceptibly, and moves around, turning a corner to get to the side entrance.

What he's not expecting is to nearly walk right over a woman who's sitting back against the wall, playing a guitar. He practically trips over his own feet to keep from colliding with her.

"Sorry, I didn't see--" He stops himself short, staring at her. There's a split second where he thinks it's her, Wichita, drifting into his life again. But no, it's just dark, her hair's similar enough, and Rex is lonely enough to actually miss his ex right now. Once his eyes settle on her face, he knows there's no mistaking this woman for anybody he knows.

"Sorry. Uh." He furrows his brow and looks down at the guitar case. "Panhandling or practicing? Because if it's the former... you probably won't find much here."

Slowly, because it takes a while for the words to register, that there's a different source of sound, and it's not Rowan quietly telling Gabe that isn't really the right way to make an elephant. After a few seconds, though, she opens her eyes, tilts her head to look at Rex intently. Her hands keep on playing, unfaltering, but the singing (soft as it was) fades into silence.

"It's fine." There's a distinct Louisiana twang and lilt to her voice, which was stubborn enough to stay no matter how long she was out of the South. (Then again, could be that being lost in your own head so much made your voice fixing to parrot everyone around you pretty much impossible.)

Amusement plays around the corners of her mouth, and though she glances down for a second - shy - her curiosity forces to her look back at him, intent. "You're here, though." That was a good start. You just needed one for an audience, and where there was more, others stopped too.

Never mind that the Sun's down - that's like a minor detail.

Rex looks around as if to confirm-- yes, he's here and nobody else. He brushes his hair awkwardly with his fingers and laughs a little. "Yeah, but. I'm not much of an audience." He never had much appreciation for the arts, after all. Music's fine as background noise, some extra stimuli as he works on projects, but he doesn't care for it either way on its own terms.

He pulls his coat closer against his body, rubbing his arms briefly. "How long have you been out here?"

"A while. Kinda just wander 'round, y'know? There's so many different places to see in this city, things to know." People to meet, voices to hear. She kind of prefers it when there aren't too many folks around, just because of the effect it has on her head, but that doesn't always serve so well when you're trying to make money. She's not the most functional person out there, but even she understands that.

"Been out here a coupla hours, I guess." Something in her gaze gains a new clarity, a momentary sharpness as she looks at him - a brief moment, before that dopey little smile softens it again. "What about you? You talk to ladies in the cold all that often?"

"It certainly offers some fascinating sights," he muses, although the "fascinating sights" he's thinking of are his xenian patients. The rest of the city he can take or leave-- preferably leave, since he doesn't even want to be in a world where magic works in tandem with science, where he'll have to begin his projects again from scratch. There's an endeavor that he's not looking forward to after losing two years worth of work on the Barge.

Rex watches her carefully, although his expression is soft, somewhat friendly for now. That moment of sharpness isn't lost on him-- is it an act? Is she high? Or something else? He shakes his head as he sticks his hands down in his pockets. "No, I think you're the first lady in the cold I've chatted up-- here, anyway. I live--" Here, actually, but he's not going to say that to a stranger, no matter how harmless she seems. "Around. I was just on my way home when I saw you. Or nearly fell over you."

Edited 2011-12-16 06:51 (UTC)

Bonnie just idly changes the song she's playing, nothing particularly recognisable, just a mess of notes that seems to come out pretty well from the jumble. Whether it's the music or his comment that makes her smile isn't entirely apparent. "You know how to make a girl feel all special, huh?"

There's something liberating about being out here, talking to a stranger at night. Even just innocent conversation; Clara kept her on a tight leash. "Is bein' out in the cold botherin' you?" She tilts her head, not quite sympathetic or concerned. It might be both, really, but there's that odd element of the dulled slipping back over that clarity of before.

"I'm Bonnie. How about you?"

"Do I?" he counters, brow arching. Rex figures she's just teasing, but what if she's not? What if this is... flirting? He can't really tell either way-- he's never been good at navigating casual interaction beyond the basics. So he just glances away with a slight smile on his face, then shrugs one shoulder as he considers how comfortable he is-- or isn't-- in this weather. "A little, but I'm-- I've always been sensitive to the cold." Well, not always. Just after his accident. That half-smile broadens to something a little less awkward and a little more charming when he looks back at her. "It's what I get for being from California." Not that Palo Alto never got cold, but most people associate the whole state with beach weather, so he might as well play it up.

"I'm D--" No, Dr. Lewis is too formal. "Rex." He leans down some and pulls one hand out of his pocket, offering it to Bonnie. "Pleasure to meet you."

001 : the ground is hard, and the view is much nicer from the sky

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