(no subject)

[bohemian-mark.livejournal.com]

At a table in the middle of the bar is a man with a guitar. Staff paper and regular paper are piled around him, as he scribbles madly at them. He's wearing a suit, somewhat badly fitting, and humming to himself.

Perhaps you should ask him what's up. Especially if you know him. Mark Cohen doesn't have his camera.

[ooc: Do I have to keep saying it? Mark has Rocks In. Let me know if you want the music bug, otherwise, tag away.]

Comments

[hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com]

Carl's thinking, "I've got a Duke Orisino, some fella who says he's a hundred years old or more-and a great stately woman to play Maria..and you found our oliva. Now all we need is a motley crew of comedians."

[bohemian-mark.livejournal.com]

"" Mark grins. ""

[hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com]

Carl waves a hand,

[bohemian-mark.livejournal.com]

"" Mark grins. It's not as if she doesn't live in the Loft now. Well, mostly live there.

[hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com]

He shrugs,

[bohemian-mark.livejournal.com]

[hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com]

Carl salutes and walks back to his table, awaiting more...

The music swirling.