willysilver (
willysilver) wrote in
londoncallingrpg2017-06-28 02:37 am
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Entry tags:
OTA
It was late at the Alpha, Will's Tuesday night haunt, and though he'd not come to perform he had come to drink. He'd had glass after glass of Kahluha and cream. Good, thick cream that he downed with the express purpose of getting drunk. Truly pissed.
But at some point someone had tugged at him and convinced him he needed to sing. His magic made him familiar even when his face did not. He was still getting acustom to the face that greeted him in the mirror. The crowd was convincing, though, and the call of music struck him deep. And so he'd taken a guitar from a man performing tonight and he took the stage.
"Just one song," he said into the mike and the crowd clapped and cheered. He tested the strings and thought of all the songs he knew. He decided on one that was relatively new. One from another musician.
Just stop your crying
It's a sign of the times
Welcome to the final show
Hope you're wearing your best clothes
You can't bribe the door on your way to the sky
You look pretty good down here
But you ain't really good
If we never learn, we been here before
Why are we always stuck and running from
The bullets?
The bullets
We never learn, we been here before
Why are we always stuck and running from
The bullets?
The bullets
Just stop your crying
It's a sign of the times
We gotta get away from here
We gotta get away from here
Just stop your crying
It'll be alright
They told me that the end is near
We gotta get away from here
Just stop your crying
Have the time of your life
Breaking through the atmosphere
And things are pretty good from here
Remember everything…
The crowd was crying and cheering at the same time as he finished. Cameras flashed as he descended the stage.
Fin was gone and Willy felt hollow. He loved the other fae and yet with the severance of their bond he felt...empty. He didn't grieve him as he otherwise might. He simply carried on. Stop your crying.
Willy passed through compliments and praise. He took the last of his drink, licking the cream from the ice cubes, and then stepped out onto the street. Someone offered him a cigarette and he took it, leaning against the building and looking up at the sky, wondering if Fin could see the same moon he saw.
(Outside the Alpha, one of the smallest bars in London. Fin has been gone since the Solstice war and Willy has a new face. OTA forever)
But at some point someone had tugged at him and convinced him he needed to sing. His magic made him familiar even when his face did not. He was still getting acustom to the face that greeted him in the mirror. The crowd was convincing, though, and the call of music struck him deep. And so he'd taken a guitar from a man performing tonight and he took the stage.
"Just one song," he said into the mike and the crowd clapped and cheered. He tested the strings and thought of all the songs he knew. He decided on one that was relatively new. One from another musician.
Just stop your crying
It's a sign of the times
Welcome to the final show
Hope you're wearing your best clothes
You can't bribe the door on your way to the sky
You look pretty good down here
But you ain't really good
If we never learn, we been here before
Why are we always stuck and running from
The bullets?
The bullets
We never learn, we been here before
Why are we always stuck and running from
The bullets?
The bullets
Just stop your crying
It's a sign of the times
We gotta get away from here
We gotta get away from here
Just stop your crying
It'll be alright
They told me that the end is near
We gotta get away from here
Just stop your crying
Have the time of your life
Breaking through the atmosphere
And things are pretty good from here
Remember everything…
The crowd was crying and cheering at the same time as he finished. Cameras flashed as he descended the stage.
Fin was gone and Willy felt hollow. He loved the other fae and yet with the severance of their bond he felt...empty. He didn't grieve him as he otherwise might. He simply carried on. Stop your crying.
Willy passed through compliments and praise. He took the last of his drink, licking the cream from the ice cubes, and then stepped out onto the street. Someone offered him a cigarette and he took it, leaning against the building and looking up at the sky, wondering if Fin could see the same moon he saw.
(Outside the Alpha, one of the smallest bars in London. Fin has been gone since the Solstice war and Willy has a new face. OTA forever)
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"Do you live for compliments, pretty one?" he asked, a smile bright enough to make his emerald eyes sparkle. "You are fair, as befitting your kin. I think you know that, though."
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He looked at him for a few seconds.
Then blurted, "You're fae."
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"You are correct," he replied, his smile growing a bit wider.
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"I suppose that explains why you're so pretty, too."
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"Yes, likely true," he conceded. Then he flashed a wide smile. "We have met before, you and I."
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"But yes. I remember you," he said. "You may call me Will."
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"You can change your appearance?"
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"Of course," he replied. "It is but a simple glamour. Though this time it was beyond my control."
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"Why would i harm you?" he asked. "Do you mean to harm me?"
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"I did nothing of the sort. You made a wish and I demanded payment. It was only fair business," he protested.
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"Perhaps you were," Willy said lightly. "Perhaps you are mad now and I am but a lamp post you are talking to. Rarely do those who are mad realize anything is wrong."
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"Highly doubtful, dove," Willy laughed. "Though why would you want to?"
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It would be so easy to offer a wish to the sad creature, but Willy refrained. He simply breathed out his nose and shook his head.
"Some days it does," he agreed.
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"Every day lately is the worst of days," he sighed. "I am aimless, I have no polar star. I believe it is time for me to return to my roots, though change is always painful."