Night Life (Social: Kat)

[Wes]

Words- Summary- Katelyn Coralie

It was rare for Wes to get a day off, and to be fair, he should be recording his next album. However, even depressed muscians need a break from time to time. Wes had left early that morning with nothing but a sunburst lame horse acoustic guitar, and a hastily thrown together disguise. He had spent most of the day just playing for passersby, reliving his time as street musician. Back then it was no way to make a living, but nowadays he could appreciate it how fufilling it was to play something that wasn't so... Industrial. Hed played all day for strangers, even accumulating some petty cash. Most of it he passed along to the fellow starving artists that were typically found all around, but he did keep a few bucks on him just in case. As dusk approached, the incognito rocker would make his way to a little hole in the wall He had often played at. A coffee shop. Open Mic night every Friday. Usually the participants were awful. "Modern" poetry that was more akin to rhythmic bitching than anything else. Still. It had a killer a cream soda, and the bagels were to die for. He thought it would be a good idea to drop by, get something to fill his stomach and maybe take a gander at what kind of "talent" managed to drag itself on stage. The place in question was quite dimly lit. Booths running along the back wall with some small tables in the center, the "stage" resting toward the far left of the far, easily visible from wherever one was seated. A quick glance around was enough to gather it was a pretty impressive turn out. Well... Impressive for a place like this. Wes counted... Maybe sixteen people who looked like they were here for the show. And one who wasn't. Sat in the far back was a rather... Bored looking girl. The only thing that made her stand out in that dark little booth all by her lonesome was her bright hair, and how... Disinterested she looked. Naturally, being the obvious social butterfly that he wasnt, Wesson decided, against his better judgement, to sit with her. Adjusting the strap on his guitar carrying bag, the disguised musician moved to the booth, and drummed his fingers on the table just once, to get the girl's attention as politely as he could. "Waiting for someone?" he would ask, his features hidden behind an obstructive pair of sunglasses.

[Katelyn Coralie]

Hey, do you do Judo

When they surround you?

Katelyn rested her chin on the palm of her hand, watching the various performers coming and going on the stage. With her free hand, she drummed her fingers on the table - nothing here ever impressed her, aside from the tea, but she still came here to mingle in the bad poetry - albeit, without a word - and pitchy music. She was probably waiting for something to stand out...eventually. She had no relation with this joint, other than - as previously stated - its outstanding beverages. Maybe she just had too much time on her hands.

The girl adjusted herself to grow more comfortable in her seat; Sitting in the same place every time, speaking to no one and no one speaking to her every time, and bringing her own instrument but never playing; Every. Time. This gathering had become less enjoyment and more routine - tradition, if you will.

As another bad poet exited the stage, he nearly kicked the case containing her cello, which she drew back from his gait just in time with a harsh stare - one which he glared back at her from, continuing to walk on. She brought it into the booth with her, almost sitting with it as if it were a fellow venue-goer; Perhaps, even an additional signal that she wanted to be left alone. However, someone obviously wasn't taking the hint.

As Wes moved into her peripheral vision, she tore her blue-grey gaze from the stage to him - approaching her. The notion of something like this hadn't occurred to her; She was a lurker. Leave her alone! Then, the stranger was there. Right at her doorstep. Her booth. 'Waiting for someone?' He had asked. She contemplated even answering this question; It was none of his business. What could it hurt, though? She didn't want this to be a bigger deal than it needed to be. "No." She stated, looking him up and down. "Why?"

TAG: Wes    ╳ WORDS: 340 ╳ NOTES: Purple people - tori amos

ⒶⓀⒾ of Adoxography, Transit, and GS.

[Wes]

Words- Summary- Katelyn Coralie

The stranger by the booth did indeed look so did interested with this whole scene.Still, now that he was closer he could make out a few more things about her besides her overall passive body language. The terrible poetry being recited in the back round was thankfully rather quiet. Either the reader was shy, or they had a hard time judging how well the Mic could pic up their voice. Either way it wouldn't inhibit Wes' ability to use his indoor voice, though the girl's slight pause before her response caught him a little off guard. Either this seat was taken, and she was trying to find a way to tell him to shove off, or it wasn't... And she had to weigh the pros and cons of not lying about the occupancy of the seat in her head. "No." she would say, followed by a quick "Why?" Wes in turn cocked his head to the side to glance at the gathered folks and then returned his gaze to the... Dark haired girl? How odd. The light seemed to reflect off her hair very well from a distance that made it look brighter than it was, despite the dimness. "You looked bored. Figured you were waiting for somebody to show up... Oh well, right? I guess it works out, shouldn't mind me taking this seat then." the tallish fellow would say as he rested his bag against the side of the booth, sliding into the seat opposite Katelyn, stretching out, rolling his shoulders as he took the seat. She had in front of her a smoking little cup of tea. Flavor unknown. She looked like she was the type to come here... And yet she didn't all at the same time. In his time here before his "big break" he had come to at least superficially understand the regulars here. This girl though... She was a curiosity. He's remain quiet though. At least until his order arrived at their table. The toasted bagel and soda. He was pretty eager to dig in, but he'd been raised better than to not at least offer to share. "Hungry? If bagels are your thing I can highly recommend this. Its got this light cinnamon after taste, really compliments the house brews. Tea, coffee..." he'd explain while unrapping the doughy delight. Picking up one half of the thing and leaving the other in the center of the table. "So... How long've you been here? Anyone half way entertaining show up tonight?" the musician would ask as he spread the cream cheese on his bagel slice, wondering if Anyone decentbhaf taken the stage. It was rare, sure, but it happened from time to time. He didn't know how long the girl had been here, so he didn't know if she had showed up bored, or had become bored... Its not impossible that both were true but still. It might be good to know.

[Katelyn Coralie]

Hey, do you do Judo

When they surround you?

Without further ado, the stranger was settling himself in right beside her. She said nothing, but shimmied further into the recesses of the booth as his presence became more apparent; Whether it was to escape from his company further or give him more room was anyone's guess. Katelyn pulled her hair over one shoulder, pulling at the long strings in thought. She wasn't comfortable, but she attempted not to let that show in the sense of giving him direct eye-contact and directed body language. She wasn't one to show weakness - social or otherwise.

Kat took in his gestures and appearance beneath the dimly lit over-head light of the booth; He was tall, messy dark hair, and decently dressed. Definitely not the grunge type that typically fronts here. He, too, appeared to be a musician, with his guitar standing over by the way-side; Much like her cello. "I wouldn't say I'm bored," She stated, rather shortly. "I don't care." Kat had added, before a long pause of silence fell on them.

No matter the silence, this man was resilient and seemed to offer conversation at every opportunity; She couldn't say it bothered her. It was a bit entertaining, and it pulled her attention from the dull affair on stage. Nothing monumentally engaging - or, nothing good - had made its way to her eye just yet.

Her engagement with the fellow had been broken momentarily as the waitress brought him the strong-smelling bagel and a some-what plain looking soda. Some kind of cream soda, she guessed, judging on the color - it could have been a kind of orange soda as well, but that wouldn't have gone with his bagel. When he offered her a portion she wasn't sure how she could refuse. Her tea had left her palette craving for something more, a compliment of sorts. Kat only nodded, reaching and taking about a quarter portion from one of the slices; Popping it into her mouth, she relished in the flavor - whatever the flavor was.

"I've been here a while." She said, seeming to open up a bit more to the prospect of conversation tonight. "I have come every week for a year or so. Nothing is ever interesting." She finished, before taking out the last bites of her piece of the bagel. "Maybe that's why it appeals me. Mediocrity it calm - it is routine; It's nice to bask in it once in a while. Especially to soothe the ego." That was the most she said to him since he sat down. Maybe he was getting somewhere, or at least hitting all of the right points to invoke a more diligent conversation.

TAG: Wes    ╳ WORDS: 462 ╳ NOTES: Purple people - tori amos

ⒶⓀⒾ of Adoxography, Transit, and GS.

[Wes]

Words- Summary- Katelyn Coralie

The girl scootched away from him as he took a seat beside her. He wasn't a very big guy, definitely didn't need the room so Wes jumped to the conclusion that he was likely being a tad too forward. It was known to happen, he wasn't a mind reader, so knowing what was running through people's minds was difficult if he didn't know their type. But even as she backed away, she still seemed hold. Bold enough to maintain her posture, eye contact and such. Maybe he was just imagining things... Either way, once he had gotten the bored beauty talking she took the briefest moment to correct him. Stating quite simply that she wasn't bored, so much as she... Didn't care. The simple elaboration illicted a knowing chuckle the spirit weilder. If he had a dime for ever time he couldn't find a shit to fling about... Whatever was going on, he coul straight buy out his contract. Shaking his head, the man slowly relaxed in the cushions of the bench, nodding slowly at her words. "Yeah. It's hard to give a Damn about strangers. Less so whether or not what they do or like is any good, right? You don't know 'em, so why even care right? Still... I'd argue that's no different than being bored really. A lack of stimulation, or like... Engagement? To me, that's how I'd define boredom... Not that it's a bad thing, on the whole." he'd was a little on as the girl accepted his invitation. Taking a piece she's fancied and popping it into her mouth, before she would continue. She explained that she had been here for a while. It was a good enough answer as any. Wes was the type to pay time no mind. For him a while was... Whatever. He has been looking for some numbers, if only to gauge just how long this girl had been sitting here, seemingly alone. Did she lurk? Did she have stage freight? Hardly seemed like the type... However, she would go on to answer his mental question even without him having to find the right way to ask it. A whole year? She was practically a regular... And not a single interesting thing. Not a single moment where she had enjoyed herself? Wes was about to ask her as such but thankfully the girl continued, explaining that perhaps that was in fact the reason she kept coming back. As she explained her feelings on the idea of mediocrity, Wes just nodded along with a smile. Yes! This girl got it! How could she get this? More often than not Wes felt very much the same. Mediocrity in his mind was simplicity. Simplicity wasn't entertaining or stimulating or anything really. Simplicity was simple. He took a long drag from his soda as she finished her localized thoughts. "Right? It's... Calming in a way. Mediocrity is easy, it's simple. It' It's lazy, sure, but relaxation is an expression of laxiness. Its resting, it's doing something simple. You just... Don't need to try for a little while. No expectations, no responsibilities, just... Whatever, really..." the Boston native with say with a little enthusiasm at first, happily surprised to find someone who genuinely seemed to share a similar thought. His voice would lower itself over the course of his monologue, returning to an even and mellow tone, before turning his head to look at the stage, but he seemed to be looking past it, to something far off beyond the walls of the hip little coffee shop. "As for egos... I don't know. Feels like a lot of people who've got an ego dont have the eyes to see the finer points of something that isn't just superficially entertaining... Their heads are too big for their eyes, and theyre affraid if anyone bursts that bubble of a skull the only thing to come out will be hot air..." the dark haired musician would watch as a young lady did her best to cover one of his less popular songs. From a poorly made grunge album. She had done fairly well on the out of tune piano, but her voice was wretched, and grossly out of key. Shaking his head with a sigh the rocker drummed on the table, mostly to give his hand something to do before cocking his head back to the seemingly like-minded stranger. "So! Mediocrity, philosophy and tea... What else do you like? For when simple pleasures aren't appropriate?" he'd ask lifting his brow curiously, taking another drag of from his beverage.

[Katelyn Coralie]

Hey, do you do Judo

When they surround you?

Katelyn merely nodded him off in response to his words; Most of which, of agreement. "I enjoy excellence." She finally said, finishing off her tea. Kat scooted the baren cup to the edge of the table, hoping for a wondering waitress to mosey by and give her a refill. "Excellence of any kind. I yearn to be impressed - to see things done well and with passion." She looked from him to her cello; Katelyn, too, seemed to be drifting beyond the walls.

Katelyn only snapped out of it when the girls melody was over, a roar of applause coming from the crowd; She was a regular - always displaying herself. She could admire her passion, but her level of skill and ambition snuffed her out quickly. After she left the stage, Kat toyed with the latches on her case. She was thinking. Should she go up there? The notion made her spine feel stiff and her fingers recoil.

Without a word, she firmly grabbed her case and dragged it onto the stage with her. She looked at the familiar crowd; A sea of angst and regrettable facial piercings. Katelyn pulled the piano bench to her, straddling it and unlocking her cello from its hard shell case. It was a rugged and worn instrument - clearly some kind of antique; It almost looked like it would crumble to dust in her hands.

The girl brought her bow up from its imprisonment and tuned her instrument up, before beginning her tune. She was nervous, but didn't allow it to breach the surface - her hair hung in her face in loose locks, focus solely on her instrument. Katelyn hunched over, her throat burning and stomach wrenching - her arm's movements were sharp and fierce. The blur of focus, ferocity, and fear took her down into its depths - her notes echoed the walls of the rooms enchamberment. And then, she was done.

TAG: Wes    ╳ WORDS: 338 ╳ NOTES: Purple people - tori amos

ⒶⓀⒾ of Adoxography, Transit, and GS.

[Wes]

Words- Summary- Katelyn Coralie

For Wes music was more than his passion, it was his blood. He lived for it. He'd familiarized himself with so many genres, if only because prior to becoming the sensation he wish he hadn't became, he did a lot of cover work on YouTube. Classic covers of old, popular songs had been his bread and butter (and little more than that) for much of his college education. He'd taken many suggestions that in turn broadened his horizons. His taste flourished and he had developed a wide breadth of ability. When he was still just an online entertainment idol, he had a particular piece brought to his attention. From an old show, adapted from an old book. It was a first for him and trying to get it perfect had been one of the harder tasks for him. Still, the effort ensured he'd recognize the tune anywhere. The young lady declared she liked excellence and passion, the former for Wes being a triviality but the latter being an essential, and as she drew her bow across the strings of her relic of a cello, he'd drum silently at the table, humming along. Despite their desire to be individuals, the oddly uniform audience had roughly similar tastes. Sure, they could appreciate her talent, but none of them seemed to understand where the slow song had come from. Likely not having the appreciation of older television... Or if they did, they might be too frightened of judgement to share. "And who, are you, the proud lord said, that I must now so low..." Wes would sing softly from his seat, not even remotely loud enough to be heard above the girl's act. "Only a cat of a different coat, that's all the truth I know..." His voice would soon rise up a bit, as he forgot exactly where he was, more inclined to focus on the talent of the muscian, and not on the public.In a coat of gold, or a coat of red, a lion still has claws... It occured to him then as he chanced a glance at them, the crowd seemed split on who to give attention to. The man singing, or the woman playing. Wes would come to his feat, extending his arm to indicate Katelyn, in an attempt to refocus the audience as he made his way toward her. And mine are long and sharp my lord! As long and sharp as yours!" he's sing along to the melody, as the audience was lost but enraptured. The girl had said it before, mediocrity was a routine. One became accustomed to it. Excellence however, was always a surprise. Naturally, the people that they were, not so different from every other person, removed their mobile devices and pointed them at the poorly outlinex stage where the two muscians were, likely intent to share what they were seeing with the world, as if it would matter beyond this moment. Wes would give a surprised, but inviting look at kat, motioning with his hands that she join him. Not literally of course, but this was the finally, it was more than customary to share it, and Wes wouldn't have it any other way. This was his partner's song, he had only joined in the melody. It was hers to finish.

[Katelyn Coralie]

She's not a girl who misses much

She's well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand

Katelyn perked momentarily as she distinguished his voice among the crowd, coupling with her cello. She opened her eyes to watch him pace from his formerly mounted seat to the stage. Others seemed to recognize his voice, and she felt a new wave of excitement among the crowd; one that only emerged when he joined the stage. She wondered if she had heard him before - she had a wide range of music taste, but that which she actively - and religiously - listened to was sometimes limited. She went through cycles.

Kat flashed him an amused and genuine smile, the first one he had probably received all night, before going on with this now shared piece. She payed close mind to the new addition to the song, as not to lose time with him, but still became enshrouded and enveloped in her own trance. The crowd faded into the back of her mind and the two musicians were all that was - or all that ever would be. It was a strange feeling, unfamiliar to her, but enjoyed and cherished for all that it was.

Before she knew it, she was ending the song as strong and consistent as it had started; The feeling almost like her soul rejoining her body - the crowd coming back to the front of her mind. They clapped and roared and some of them cried - for him, albeit, but she didn't mind. Katelyn packed her cello away in the hard shell case and slipped from the stage as silently as she had arrived, like a shadow.

In her place, a frenzy came - a tidal wave of admirers swarming Wes at all sides, leaving little room for him to walk off the stage - still there, but annoying to bypass all of the warm bodies. Katelyn reclaimed her throne, however, alone in her small booth with her newly refilled tea. She was sure all that would come of her performance was detestment; From those in the crowd jealous of the privilege she had received to perform by his side. Even so, she crossed her legs and brought the still-steaming liquid to her lips and took a sip - watching him; She watched him through this crowd, only for him, and picked him apart with her eyes.

TAG: Wes    ╳ WORDS: 398 ╳ NOTES: Happiness is a warm gun - tori amos

ⒶⓀⒾ of Adoxography, Transit, and GS.

[Wes]

Words- Summary- Katelyn Coralie

Regret. It was something Wes was more than well accustomed to. Most of his adult life it had been his steadfast companion. Yes indeed, he'd had a wonderful moment with the young stranger, and for a moment he coulda sworn she shot him a grin which spoke volumes more than any exchange between the two could ever have had sitting by that table, he didn't regret that one bit, but of course, regardless of the girl's obvious talent, more than he possessed with that instrument in particular or with her enchanting vocals, he had inadvertently overshadowed her, and that was his regret. Though she hardly seemed upset as she packed up her cello and returned to her booth, seamlessly moving through the clamoring crowd. Keeping his head above the sea of people was easy, none of them were thankfully taller than he was, but with no less than a dozen sets of arms shoving napkins at him, another dozen pointing cameras and trying to get his attention it was hard to find an out, if one existed. The dark haired muscian held his hands up defensively, trying to squeeze his way through the crowd. "It's uhhh, it's nice to meet a fan... Fans, but uhh, I'm just here for a quick bite. I really oughta be going..." it might have been a lie. Not entirely, but in some art it was. Trye, he enjoyed meeting fans. About half as much as he enjoyed making music. But really, we're they fans of his music or the music he made? There was a difference, after all... Truer still, he had just popped in for a quick bite, perhaps the lie was one omission, he might have to go. No doubt the relatively small group was already updating their various social spaces, and the staff certainly would be. He liked to think people were chill enough not to just drop everything they were doing to come see him, but then again he still couldn't part a sea of roughly twelve or so people, and he was still conflicted as to which part of all this was the worst. Him accidentally detracting from the girls' superb performance, or the fallout of fame. "Guys, c'mon it wasn't all me..." he'd say somewhat uselessly as he continues to push his way through the people, always casting a glance back to the booth, catching the... Glare? Stare? It was hard to tell what the young cellist's intent was in her gaze, But all he could shoot to her in return was a look that was equal parts remorse and embarrassment as he silently begged for assistance, eye brows rising up pleadingly, giving her a playful but worried grin. She didn't need to help of course. Another few moments of pushing and he'd have forced his way through, though he did have a hand outstretched to her, comically so, if one could appreciate the situation.