(no subject)

[i_am_your_host]

After spending so much time with so many people during the county fair, Emcee needed time by himself to decompress.

Attention is like a drug to him. He'd missed that particular high, night after night, performing for a captive audience. But now that he no longer has a nightly audience, these days the highs are far less frequent, and the crashes are much lower. These days, the liquor and sex can only do so much.

(He misses other highs, too. But he's managing without them. Just about.)

It's a quiet early evening when Emcee settles into a deck chair on the back porch. With a glass of red wine and a basket of fried paradoxes on the table next to him, he lights up a cigarette and draws his knees up to his chest.

He's listening to classic Elton John through a pair of earbuds to drown out the silence.

Comments

[likeroaringlions]

Past the edge of the porch, someone's kicking a ball around, head down, looking like his mind is either fully on the ball or else miles away; he knocks it up against the porch and looks startled to see someone there. But spotting Emcee, he waves, and calls a greeting. "Evening. How are you?"

[i_am_your_host]

After a while, after staring out toward the lake and trees, Emcee detects some movement out of the corner of his eye. And he watches William for a moment, sitting still and quiet, only taking a drag off his cigarette every so now and then.

William's greeting is a bit muffled under the chorus of "Tiny Dancer," but Emcee smiles, as slowly as the drifting smoke, looking like an alley cat at twilight. He wiggles his cigarette-holding fingers at him in a return wave, and plucks the earbuds from his ears.

"Hallo, William. I'm quite well. You've got some very nice footwork there."

[likeroaringlions]

William laughs and toes the ball up into the air to catch it. "Nice evening to practice a bit. Or to sit out with a smoke," he adds amiably. "I haven't been here in a while, forgot how quiet it could be sometimes."

[i_am_your_host]

"After the hubbub of the fair, it certainly is quiet, but I'm sure some other random celebration will spring forth again in no time, as is wont to happen in Milliways," he muses with a smile. "Were you there? I thought I'd seen you."

[likeroaringlions]

"Aye, I was! Didny see you there, but it was pretty well packed. Pretty good drinks. I had...quite a few," he allows. "So they do that every year here?"

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee chuckles and takes a sip of wine.

"The beer tent was nicely stocked. And as far as I know this was the third fair, but I wasn't around for the first one. ...Or was I? I can't remember. In any case, this year I set up a kissing booth just for fun."

[likeroaringlions]

"Aw Christ, did you now." He's grumbling--but a year ago it would have been genuine discomfort, and now he's half laughing. "Get a lot o takers, did you?"

[the_cupbearer]

Oh, earbuds.

They provide such wonderful opportunities.

Ganymede is barefoot, and quietly comes up to Emcee with a small photo album in hand, and leans in to kiss his cheek, without saying anything beforehand. He won't pull out the earbuds, but he is sitting crouched by Emcee's chair with a smile.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee is surprised out of his reverie by the kiss, though he's not so skittish as to be completely startled. He meets Ganymede's smile with his own, warm and genuine, and he pulls the earbuds from his ears.

"Well, hallo again, darling. How are you?"

[the_cupbearer]

"Hello again," Ganymede purrs. "I thought I'd come find you and show you some photos," he says with a crooked smile.

[i_am_your_host]

"Oh, you have more?" he says, intrigued. He stops the music player and gives him his full attention.

[the_cupbearer]

"I've been taking pornographic pictures since photography was invented," he laughs. "These are just the ones I like best."

[i_am_your_host]

"I didn't know you kept a record of them," he says with a grin as he takes the photo album and opens it on his lap.

[childofrebellion]

(OOC: Tell me if you need more.)

After falling asleep in his U-wing, Cassian's spent most of the day down in the garage and finally comes upstairs when its dark.

He sees Emcee and smiles at how at peace he looks before sitting down on the porch, grabbing a paradox and looking up at stars that he doesn't know. When he goes back, he'll try and sleep, soon he'll be working again, putting on another mask. He's in his captain's jacket with his blaster at his side and the smell of grease and ships around him.

[i_am_your_host]

Lost in the music, Emcee only vaguely notices the whiff of grease, and doesn't see Cassian until he steals a paradox. He turns head and smiles faintly in greeting, and they sit for a moment in companionable silence under the stars.

Then Emcee taps the screen of his (borrowed) music player and scrolls through a few titles. Removing one of his earbuds, he reaches over to offer it to Cassian.

Elton John's "Rocket Man" begins to play. And Emcee sings along softly with the chorus.

"And I think it's gonna be a long long time,
Till touch down brings me round again to find
I'm not the man they think I am at home
Oh no no no, I'm a rocket man
Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone..."

[childofrebellion]

He takes the earbud and then grows quieter as he actually listens. By the second chorus, he's singing along, he has a nice singing voice that he never uses.

As the song ends, he leans back to rest against one of the porch posts and takes a quick breath, "Good song."

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee smiles when Cassian joins in on the chorus. He does have a surprisingly good voice and can carry a tune well, which just adds to his charm.

Emcee takes back the earbud and stops the player as he relaxes back into his seat.

"You made me think of it, so I had to let you have a listen," he says with a grin. "I'm glad I did or else I would never have found out that you can sing."

[childofrebellion]

"Not very well, I think the last time I sang along with something was in a cantina when I had to go along with a drinking song,"

It helped him get the informant's trust but ended up with his jacket smelling of liquor and spice.

[i_am_your_host]

"Drinking songs are always the best to sing along to," he chuckles, pushing the basket of fried paradoxes forward, inviting him to take some more. "I think you carry a tune well enough and can get the words right fairly quickly."

[imthepilot]

There's a little ginger and white kitten stalking Emcee's paradoxes. He just about has hold of one and is in the process of dragging it out of the basket when Bodhi spots the little run-away. "Kyber!"

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee is in his own head and lost in the music when he catches the movement out of the corner of his eye. He turns his head in time to see the kitten stealing a paradox, and he laughs, making no real effort to stop him, but only holding the basket so it doesn't tip over.

He pulls the earbuds out of his ears and looks up at Bodhi.

"I'm not sure if he wants to play with it or eat it, though I don't think sugar is good for cats."

[imthepilot]

"He likes to steal things." He scoops up the kitten, trying to separate Kyber from the paradox. Which he seems rather determined not to let go of. "Mostly he hides them under our bed."

[i_am_your_host]

"Well, it's probably best that you confiscate this particular item before he hides it, you don't want spoiled food under your bed," he says, amused by Bodhi's attempts to get the ball-shaped morsel out of the kitten's clutches.

[imthepilot]

"Wouldn't be the first time." Bodhi growls, resorting to holding Kyber by the scruff of the neck to pull the now somewhat maul paradox away. "I'm sorry. I'll replace this." After all, Emcee won't want it back now.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee chuckles. "Oh, it's all right. There's enough for everyone, even furry little pickpockets. Have you tried them before? They're called fried paradoxes."