Realistic or Modern ♡ Groupies - A Rock Band Roleplay ♡ | IC |

[Feral]

Groupies.

♡ "Rock On!" ♡

Fan Location: Coming to the stage area where the band is

Band location: Side of the stage.

Staff location: Anywhere.

-----

Weather: Mildly hot

Time: 9:47 am

A morning to remember...

The dry heat of early Seattle summer beat down on the people, a pleasant morning for everyone awake. The workers at the coffee shops to the people going to school all looked happy. Today was a morning that was lively and bright. Annoyingly so, to some people's dismay.

The tour busses were sat nearby enough one could run to get anything from one of the rooms quite readily... or slack off over there instead of work. Most everyone had woken up. It wasn't early enough to have an excuse to stay in bed.

The online world was bustling with talk about their band, a shooting star of fame about to kick off their first real tour. It was an interest to their fans, to say the least.

Some roadies had already started working on setting up for their first show on tour, despite the show being 12 hours away. Some donuts, Coffee, and baby carrots were left unattended on a nearby table, a free for all to grab if they hadn't gotten breakfast.

Wires were dragged haphazardly across the floor, and people were moving around hurriedly carrying this way and that. Chaos to the eyes of those who weren't used to it. It smelled slightly like sweat and burnt electrical wiring. The wood below workers' feet was slightly creaky, not old, not new. A pretty big venue, in all honesty.

The "Five-star Fans." as they were called unceremoniously by Marcy, were led into a room and debriefed on the rules, which consisted of not being a douche. It was pretty much accepted by the staff that the restrictions wouldn't be followed very long.

Once all the semantics were over, everyone could finally breathe. The fans were sent into the venue building with the band's Agent, who'd guide them to meet the people they had watched perform all this time.

Most of the band sat on some chairs that'd been dragged onto the side of the stage. Waiting for their 'lucky' fans to enter and meet them, Strangers Again had done quite a few 'meet and greet' events at this point, but nothing like this where they'd spend so much time with the people that idealized them.

Many roadies who didn't want to work, or this was their work, were perched around them. Some were bored, and some were eager to peak at the fans that would join them.

Anticipation colored the air. All the plans they had would be coming to fruition hopefully today. If things went wrong, they were probably fucked.

© weldherwings.

 

[Blobs]

"groupies"
starring
Maisha Khanom

season one, episode one

Backstage

Maisha has on a black crop top, woven with intricate patterns. She wears salmon colored leggings that have white outlines of various flora and fauna on them. On her feet are black wedges, and she holds a leather jacket on one hand.

Maisha
(interacting with)

Kick In The Head
Tove Lo

The Seattle heat beat down on Maisha as she fiddled with her clip-board, the stale bagel they'd eaten for breakfast that morning still pervading their mouth. The bagel had been packed tightly in a piece of plastic wrap and thrown to the back of their fridge to rot. It had been a low-quality bagel from the supermarket, found in the very back of the aisle. Maisha wasn't sure why they'd bought the bagels in the first place- they could've gotten better ones at the local bakery. What Maisha does remember about the trip to the market was that a) it had been to buy more butter and that b) Maisha, having been stoned for the first time in years, had gotten sidetracked on their quest for more butter and had instead gone on a treasure hunt throughout the store.

Hence, the bagels.

Maisha usually stuck to a strict schedule each day: she woke up at exactly seven, did her cardio until seven thirty ( which consisted of a good ten minutes of jogging at full speed on their treadmill before going on their phone and taking to social media) and then turned on the coldest possible water for a brisk shower. A quick, nutritional breakfast consisting of oatmeal with honey, blueberries, and tea, then she was up and out, ready to tackle what the day had in store.

Which meant staring at the doorway for about fifteen minutes, attempting to psyche herself up for a day of socialization with her co-workers. But potato po-ta-toe.

This morning, however, Maisha had woken astronomically late. Late enough that she had to forgo her morning workout in favor of a brisker than usual shower and rummaging through her fridge for something that took almost no time to prepare. That, unfortunately, meant a stale bagel and old, shriveled oranges, sour and wrinkled on her tongue as they raced out.

Maisha took a swig of the coffee in her hand and blanched. It was the coffee that the crew had ladled out on a small little table for those who had skipped breakfast, and it was utter horseshit. Far too sweet and sugary for Maisha's taste, who preferred the-admittedly bitter- taste of black coffee to start her day. But at least it was wiping away the taste of the bagel.

Maisha swiped a hand across her forehead as she turned her attention away from the food and back to the crew. The stage was in chaos: wires were being tugged and unraveled, speakers and microphones were being tested, instructions were yelled across the stage. Maisha inspected it all with a critical eye, radio at her side beeping every so often with a complaint lobbed from someone on the other end. Sometimes, it was Maisha who would fire back with an order, such as right at that moment. Maisha raised the radio to her mouth and pressed down on the button, swiping her tongue across her teeth. "Could we get someone on stage left to fix whatever the hell is going on over there? Did someone leave halfway through plugging up the speakers?" She waited for the tell-tale green light of confirmation that the message had gone through, then set it back down.

Maisha's eyes caught on the conglomeration of roadies by the band and scowled, hauling herself away from her spot in front of the stage. Lazy fucks, all of them- there was a time to rest, and a time to sit the fuck around doing nothing, and this was not the time for the latter. Maisha's stride was purposeful against the tarmac, heels slapping robotically on the ground as she reached the group. She slapped her palms together, hard enough to make her wince as the loud clap reverberated through the air.

Their eyes turned to hers as Maisha cleared her throat, a beat of nervousness unfurling inside Maisha's stomach only for them to clamp down on it. It was much, much, much easier to speak to people in a professional context for Maisha, but it still held a hint of terror. They all probably despised her, at least slightly- which Maisha couldn't really begrudge them for, considering how tight a ship she ran- and every time Maisha had to issue out an order a flurry of trepidation was let loose in her mind. What if they hated her after what she said? Was she being fair to the crew with all the work she issued out? What if she accidentally ruined everything?

At this moment however, there was no time for worrying. She could anxiously bite her nails and lament on her awkward phrases and out-of-place references later: now though, she had to get these lazy chumps moving and grooving for another day of work.

"HEY!" Maisha yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth to project her voice (and to be more annoying). "I'm not sure if any of you've noticed yet, but we have a stage to finish. Unless you actually have something to do right here, I suggest you haul your lazy asses back to that stage and do something productive with your time." Maisha punctuated the end of her sentence with an annoyed, take no shit glare, coming off as more composed than she actually felt. Inside, she was a bundle of nerves: today was their first real tour. If anything went wrong, Maisha wouldn't be able to live with it.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[DreamBoy]

Stevie Rose Jackson

annoyed

the venue, near the stage

Maisha

Stevie was running through her mental checklist of shit to get ready. Kickoff day was a big one. Normally she would just be concerned with everything being set up and in place for the show but since this was the first show, they needed to be ready to head out of town at ass thirty the next day in order to get to their next destination in time. She hadn't slept much the night before, and had already spent most of her morning with roadies and other tour staff, inventorying any outfit the band and a few people she was responsible for outside the band, getting it all packed up and helping roadies load it onto one of the transport buses. It had been a much nicer job to be doing much earlier in the day, Once almost everyone had woken up and gotten to work, the absolute chaos of the start of a tour mingled with the heat reflecting off the asphalt and began to make it very difficult to keep track of anything. She'd started working on tour prep months ago, the bands wardrobes determined WELL in advance, and had sourced/repaired/sewn/altered anything that needed it, gotten approval and packed them into their respective trunks well before today. It was mindblowing the amount of work there had still been to do just that morning though. This was larger than any tour she'd ever been a part of and it was kind of like they were all working together hauling around a miniature town across the country.
By the time everything was loaded, Stevie was pretty sick of checking off items on her inventory clipboard and hauling big boxes of clothing, and she wasn't ready to check in with the band yet. Meeting up with the fans was a pretty big photo op, but it was also supposed to be purposefully as authentic as possible, so they would mostly be wearing their own clothes for it as long as they were presentable. She wasn't exactly in a photo op worthy outfit herself at the moment. Her jeans were ripped, not in the artful way, they just had a big asymmetric gash on one side where they'd got caught on some piece of equipment before a show a couple weeks ago, and an old Static Mania shirt from one of Marcy's previous albums that was well worn to the point that she'd already mended two holes in it.
If a problem was imminent as far as the band was concerned, it would probably be Olivier's problem before it was her's anyway, so she'd resigned to hanging out with a group of roadies on break and downing her second styrofoam cup of black coffee. At least she was within view of the band in case something came up when Maisha finally showed up. Normally She and Maisha just kept at a respectful distance to each other. Sometimes they'd needle each other, sometimes it was friendly and sometimes it was... less friendly. They generally had a decent enough professional relationship, but today she absolutely should have expected the manager to come in breathing fire. She snuck a look to the person she'd just been chatting with that roughly translated to 'ha, busted.' Before turning to look at Maisha from where she was perched on top of a large speaker. She knew it was unlikely Maisha was speaking to her directly since despite current appearences, she didn't really have a track record of slacking off, but she absolutely didn't appreciate the immediate hostility before ten AM. One good thing about Maisha, Stevie could pretty much always hear her. Loud and clear unfortunately.

"I don't know if you've noticed yet, but my job is done. So unless you want to pay me to do someone else's I suggest you fuck off about it. Cheers."
she answered, holding up her shitty coffee that matched Maisha's in a little toast/salute. Her tone didn't have any heat behind it, but she knew her words were pointed enough that she would have been better off leaving it alone and finding somewhere else to fuck off. Oh well.

coded by natasha.

 

[PinkChiffon]

Spoiler: Uncoded

Bonnie placed her phone into her back pocket after closing out an unfinished google search for “is Xanax okay to take with coffee?”. She decided she didn’t want to know the answer anymore. Today has already felt like an eternity, and they were only just getting started. She hardly slept the night before, it felt like the melatonin she took was still lingering in her system, making her feel like jelly. In a screwed-up sort of way, she was almost glad there was so much to do still, it was the only thing keeping her from throwing up with nerves or excitement. It changes between them so quickly, she can hardly tell the difference anymore. The fans would be arriving any minute, and the congratulatory flowers she ordered for the band members should arrive shortly afterward. There were sound checks to be done, and can't forget the interviews, and photos for social media and and and. The list seemed endless. This was such a leap for them. Were they even ready? The band is still pretty new after all. Was she ready? Easily, no. Bonnie has never felt so out of her depth in her life. God the band. Bonnie has barely seen or spoken to any of them today, which frightens her to her very core. The idea of leaving them up to their own devices, even for a little while was enough to give her an ulcer. "They're grown Bonnie... They're going to be okay on their own for a little while...." She spoke to herself in a quiet sing-songy voice, not believing a lick of it.

Bonnie white-knuckled her ceramic coffee tumbler as she stumbled over some wire. Her shoes were wildly impracticable for being backstage, but they were the nicest ones she owned and by god, she was going to start this thing off right. She nearly jumped out of her skin hearing Mai address her crew. Bonnie had half a mind to grab a roll of gaffer tape herself, but there was no time for that. "Stevie, more hands make less work. Giving Mai an assist couldn't hurt!" She chirped as she scurried on by, not even bothering to turn around. It was time for her to greet the selected fans and pray that they weren't the spooky sort. "Everyone please be cool!" She called over her shoulder to the crew.

In a dramatic flair and with a beaming smile, Bonnie threw open the door to see the small group of fans. "Hello! I'm Bonnie MacNally, we're so happy that youse could join us for such an exciting occasion." God, she hasn't blinked or taken a breath yet. Come on Bonnie, automatic functions can't fail us today. She softened her smile and drew in a breath. "If you're all ready, please come with me and I'll introduce you guys to the band." She didn't wait for an answer as she spun on her heels and headed off toward the green room.

Location:
Side Stage
Interactions:
The Fans
Mood:
Stressed
Outfit:
Link

My Bonnie

Bonnie placed her phone into her back pocket after closing out an unfinished google search for “is Xanax okay to take with coffee?”. She decided she didn’t want to know the answer anymore. Today has already felt like an eternity, and they were only just getting started. She hardly slept the night before, it felt like the melatonin she took was still lingering in her system, making her feel like jelly. In a screwed-up sort of way, she was almost glad there was so much to do still, it was the only thing keeping her from throwing up with nerves or excitement. It changes between them so quickly, she can hardly tell the difference anymore. The fans would be arriving any minute, and the congratulatory flowers she ordered for the band members should arrive shortly afterward. There were sound checks to be done, and can't forget the interviews, and photos for social media and and and. The list seemed endless. This was such a leap for them. Were they even ready? The band is still pretty new after all. Was she ready? Easily, no. Bonnie has never felt so out of her depth in her life. God the band. Bonnie has barely seen or spoken to any of them today, which frightens her to her very core. The idea of leaving them up to their own devices, even for a little while was enough to give her an ulcer. "They're grown Bonnie... They're going to be okay on their own for a little while...." She spoke to herself in a quiet sing-songy voice, not believing a lick of it.

Bonnie white-knuckled her ceramic coffee tumbler as she stumbled over some wire. Her shoes were wildly impracticable for being backstage, but they were the nicest ones she owned and by god, she was going to start this thing off right. She nearly jumped out of her skin hearing Mai address her crew. Bonnie had half a mind to grab a roll of gaffer tape herself, but there was no time for that. "Stevie, more hands make less work. Giving Mai an assist couldn't hurt!" She chirped as she scurried on by, not even bothering to turn around. It was time for her to greet the selected fans and pray that they weren't the spooky sort. "Everyone please be cool!" She called over her shoulder to the crew.

In a dramatic flair and with a beaming smile, Bonnie threw open the door to see the small group of fans. "Hello! I'm Bonnie MacNally, we're so happy that youse could join us for such an exciting occasion." God, she hasn't blinked or taken a breath yet. Come on Bonnie, automatic functions can't fail us today. She softened her smile and drew in a breath. "If you're all ready, please come with me and I'll introduce you guys to the band." She didn't wait for an answer as she spun on her heels and headed off toward the green room.

This is unfortunately my circus and these are my monkeys

coded by incandescent

 

[Feral]

9:47

• aaa.
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  Uxiegram

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  Marcy.on.me

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  820,654 likes

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  Marcy.on.me

  (click comments) good girls are bad girls who haven't been caught yet *kicks ice cube under fridge*

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  View all 17,569 comments

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  messages

  
  
  
  
  

  9:06pm

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  TOM FROM SCHOOL

  
  
  
  
  

  is my contact name still "from school" on your phone

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  Marcy.on.me

  good girls are bad girls who haven't been caught yet. *Kicks ice cube under fridge*

  
  
  
  
  

  3h ago

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  Marcy sipped on her apple juice, she had woken up too early at 5 am this morning, at least another 6 hours of sleep would be good... Ugh.
  
  If these fucking fans weren't here she woulda stayed in bed. Love the fans, hate when they make you stay up instead of going back to bed. Marcy would say, well would now say. She'd never thought that or said that before.
  
  She hadn't wanted to get out of bed at all this morning really, she wished she could've slept in longer than usual... Ugh, she'd had another nightmare that had woken her up and made her not even able to stay there with everyone else! Her eyes wanted to close sooooo badly.
  
  No one would notice like usual. She always had so much makeup on around her eyes, and their bloodshotness was always attributed to smoking or drinking, or just generally dumb shit. Marcy generally was a dumb shit.
  
  She stuffed a jelly-filled donut into her trap, lemon-flavored of course. She'd made to get a bunch of them when she ordered this morning. Her early morning awakening had to be useful somehow right?
  
  So she went and got stuff, the coffee was still warm because she was smart enough to get that last. She had spilled in one of the cars though and Bon would be on her ass.
  
  The coffee and donuts would hopefully make everyone at least a little happier, and less likely to snap at her, she didn't like being snapped at. That made her feel really bad. She... Was wondering where the carrots came from though.
  
  She didn't like feeling iffy at all! Even though it was so easy, she was a big baby. She sometimes wondered why people would deal with her before she remember she was better than everyone else.
  
  Well most everyone else, the people who loved her were better than she was. So she had to be at least in the top ten of amazing, wonderful people.
  
  She swallowed the last of her food, powdered sugar all over her face, she wiped it away on her sleeve, already bored of sitting here waiting for their precious fans. She draped herself over the low-backed chair she'd sat on, and she grinned as she spotted her Maisha. Ah, no boredom here she came!
  
  ...And she was right. Not in the good way though, she let out a groan at the woman's harsh words. Marcy deflated as Stevie and Mai started to get into a row, "Stop ittttt." She groaned out, "Maisha, love, the shows in twelve whole hours!"
  
  That was a long time for her, "We'll be just fine yeah? Let Stevie fuck off a Lil and ill get you lunch tooooo. And Bonnie. Bon Bon gets lunch too." She added like that solved all her problems. A grin on her face, sweet to the core.
  
  She'd probably get her lunch anyways if she didn't let Stevie off the hook. They were stressed to high hell after all, and she'd probably take Olivier too. They all needed those really nice sandwiches that you get from those small restaurants.
  
  Yeah... That'd do. And coffee. Or some candy.
  
  She smirked, "...And if you too don't get along I'm gonna make you wear one of those get-along tee shirts? Y'know?" Marcy was very sure she could, or she could lock them in a storage room together, either would work...
  
  Marcy's face was like a puppy who wanted to jump all over their favorite person but knows they'd get in trouble if they did anything of the sort but was still going to anyways.
  
  She rolled off the chair with a light thud and a noise of pain from her as she got up from the floor.
  
  "Oops." ...Marcy was tired as shit. No one would notice, she told herself. The fans were here and she wasn't a dork or a weirdo and she was cool. She had to be cool for them! She wasn't drab like she was in school, she was a whole different person! So she had to be great!
  
  She looked at Maisha for a moment, before hopping over and giving her pretty fling a soft hug, "Calm down..." She whispered sweetly before quickly detaching and skipping away to her chair.
  
  She laid back down on it daintily, sitting properly and awkwardly for once... Before she immediately began kicking her legs excitedly, giggling as she listened to Bon bon welcome the fans in, she was SO excited! So so so excited!
  
  "Is anyone else excited? Im excited! I wanna, like... Give them all hugs and stuff! Our fans are so cool y'know? Anyways. These donuts are really good you all should have some. When i say good i don't mean like, great, but they're like... Pretty okay. " She paused to catch her breath, "Also, why are we doing this at 10 am its like way too early? Can we not do this next time, or at least wait until noon? Or ill die, and I'm not exaggerating about that. Also, why are there only like two types of filled donuts jelly and—"
  
  Marcy started blabbing on and on, more to herself than anyone else, nervous and excited, she cut off when she realized how much she was starting to go on, "Whoops, talking like a monkey again huh? Why are words so easy it's like... Eating butter."
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

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    Im soooo excited!

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    
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    check out my fit! Here!

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    
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    side of stage :/

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    
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    it's short and i hate scrolling tiny spaces. tag them for the sake of tagging ;;

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    
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♡requested by dreamglow, coded by uxie♡

 

[nova.the.alien]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood buzzing with excitement

location side of the stage

outfit this

mentions maisha, stevie, marcy, bee

tag august. Feral DreamBoy Blobs

saffron mckinley

/* ------ right side ------ */

Since she'd first become a roadie, Saffron decided that her favorite part was opening a tour. The energy of it built a bubbling excitement in her gut, and she admittedly couldn't keep a stupid grin off of her face. If She were being honest, of course, most of the butterflies came from the sheer chaos of it all, the crossed wires and half-completed projects that tucked themselves into corners proved to be an exhilarating aesthetic for her. She might as well be glowing.

She'd finished as much of her stuff as she could, all that she was waiting on was the all clear to test her cues. Naturally that meant she was slacking off (although she would've been slacking off anyway -- far too many cute girls to go around). She had her eyes on one cute girl though, the fun little bassist that she had hit it off so well with. Saffron was currently perched in one of the extra chairs around the band members, sitting in it backwards, talking to Bee while the other band members were distracted with their own things: mostly the roadies that had gathered around them. Saff barely noticed them, nor the constant winding of people on the stage, looking for more things to do, checking to see if there were things they missed. Instead, she was fully engaged in her conversation with Bee, her hazel eyes making confident eye-contact, and her easy smile turned up in one corner in a sexy sort of smirk.

"What do you think these fans are going to be like?" Saffron mused to her out loud. "And the whole living with them thing... think it's going to spark up some interesting drama?" she couldn't help but grin a bit wider at the thought of that, inviting a little more chaos into an already chaotic environment. She, unashamed, looked Bee up and down impishly, then met her eyes again and chuckled. "Think any of them might be attractive?"

Unfortunately, her playtime was cut short by the harsh clap! noise that attacked her poor eardrums. She winced, and took a hefty drink of coffee from her cup. She'd snuck some bourbon in her own cup earlier, and now she was thanking the gods she'd had enough foresight to do so. She was going to need it. Not too much of course, just enough for a fun little pick-me-up. Maisha's commanding tone followed the sharp staccato of her hands, requesting that everyone get back to work. She'd been about to say something when one of the stylists popped off with her own comment. Saff only just managed to hold back her smile, but she couldn't deny she respected the quip. Maisha's intensity was respected... but also entirely unnecessary this early in the day.

She had half a mind to ignore the instruction, but the arrival of Marcy changed her plans. "That's my cue," she mumbled at a level to low to hear, and stood from her seated position with a stretch, peering at Marcy and Maisha out or the corner of her eye. The public display of affection gave her the ick, but she refrained from reacting to it, choosing instead to take another gulp of her coffee. Again, such a good idea. She shot a wink at Bee and muttered a quiet, "catch you later?" as she headed away.

Saffron being herself, of course, couldn't help but stop for a moment in front of Marcy and Maisha. Smiling pleasantly, if a bit smarmily, at the both of them, she then focused her sole gaze on Maisha. "I'm all caught up on my tasks, Miss Mai," she couldn't help but let a little southern drawl slip into her tone. "But if there's anything at all that I can do to help make your job easier, and keep a frown off your face, just lay it on me, and I'll take care of it." Sure, she might have been laying it on a little thick, but she'd be more than willing to accomplish the task. If she showed them she was valuable, it'd keep her out of trouble in the long run. "After all," she switched her gaze back to Marcy and grinned a friendly, but formal sort of grin, "anything for the band, right?"

She waited for Maisha's answer, but not for much more after that, and headed out to find somebody else to bother who was maybe... a bit less amped up on jelly donuts.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[Blobs]

"groupies"
starring
Maisha Khanom

season one, episode one

Side of Stage, On Top Of A Speaker

Maisha has on a black crop top, woven with intricate patterns. She wears salmon colored leggings that have white outlines of various flora and fauna on them. On her feet are black wedges, and she holds a leather jacket on one hand.

Maisha
(interacting with) Marcy- Feral
Saffron- nova.the.alien
Stevie- DreamBoy
Bonnie- PinkChiffon

Kick In The Head
Tove Lo

Maisha was five seconds from blowing up.

She turned the full force of her glare upon Stevie, a flash of anger riding through her like a wave. Stevie and Maisha's relationship was...complicated, to say the least. Everytime before work started, Maisha would wonder what type of interaction she'd have with Stevie that day. Would it be cordial, professional and distant? Would it be full of sassy quips and jokes about their work? Or would it be full of indignation and annoyance for the other, enough to turn the day sour and the environment hellish? Maisha could never be quite sure. It didn't help that the brown haired woman seemed to be stone-cold herself, devoid of all emotion.

Or her strange relationship with Marcy, the girl Maisha was currently having a fling with. If they said they didn't care about whatever the hell was going on over there, they'd be lying.

Speaking of Marcy: before Maisha was able to give into her base, lower instincts, a familiar groan lit up the area around them as Marcy's face popped into view. Whereas Stevie reminded Mai of a plant- unbothered, and entirely green (Mai had always associated Stevie with green for some reason)- Marcy had the opposite effect: she reminded Mai of an over-active puppy, adorable and with big brown eyes that, while she needed constant supervision, made everyone's day just a bit brighter.

After falling out of her chair (to which Maisha let out a surprised yelp of worry), the shorter women threw her arms around Maisha, squeezing her tight. "Calm down," she muttered as her hands squeezed Mai's torso before quickly detaching. Mai's heart fluttered as she grinned down at Marcy. It was just a fling between the two- nothing more, nothing less. Maisha liked Marcy (who wouldn't?) but theirs was a relationship that wouldn't progress past a random hookup here and there. Besides, they were friends, and that was more than fine to Mai.

As Marcy prepared to saunter away from Mai, another person deposited themselves in front of her- this time, a roadie. Saffron McKinley- blonde, charismatic, and a notorious trouble-maker. Mai couldn't help but roll her eyes as Saffron began to talk. Suck-up, she thought, none too kind to Saff as she offered her assistance. Saffron was a pain in the ass to Maisha- alas, a fun one- who always put on a smarmy smile and doled out her most flirtatious of comments to Maisha in an effort to get out of trouble. And lo and behold, she almost always did.

Almost was the key word in that sentence. Maisha might have been weak, but she wasn't that weak.

"...Anything for the band, right?" finished Saffron, bringing Mai back down to earth. Marcy had left during Saffron's little monolouge, sititng back down in her chair and going on about the meet-and-greet with exuberance, eyes shining and legs kicking like that of an excited toddlers. Maisha could hear Bonnie just a bit away, welcoming the fans to the tour. Nerves twisted and tightened in Maisha's stomach as she gulped, attempting to summon whatever courage she had left.

Having a mental breakdown in front of Literally Everyone Maisha Worked With plus five random's was so last year. New year, new Maisha.

"We need someone to take care of stage left." Maisha replied to Saffron, pointing to the specific area. Alas, Saffron was already halfway gone (probably to bum around- Maisha was well aware Saffron probably wasn't going to take care of stage left) but not before Maisha shouted: "And for god's sakes stop bothering Bee! Schmooze up to her after the show, would you?!"

After Saffron left, Maisha turned back to the crew. More specifically, Stevie. "Chagullar batcha", she muttered softly- loosely translated, son of a goat in bengali. The appropriate, mature response would be to simply ignore her quip and focus on getting the crew back in order- unfortunately, Maisha was nothing if not vengeful, and could feel the residual annoyance festering in her. Blame it on 23 years of New York schooling.

"Stevie, you spent months working on those outfits only to come up with that horseshit?" Maisha queried, disgust entering both her tone and gaze as she stared down the stylist. "Honestly, you should just quit and go back to fashion school-god knows you could use the extra help. My five year old cousin does better finger-paintings." The second that remark came out of her mouth, Maisha felt horror grip her heart. Goddamnit, she was living on the edge today. Yet at the same time, a bit of satisfaction took root in her as well. Fucking Stevie, with her fried hair and sassy mouth- no one was talking to her in the first place. She had been irrelevant to the conversation until she decided to open her big fat mouth. Talk shit, eat the consequences.

Another clap, and Maisha yelled back at the crew. "Do I need to fucking repeat myself? Get to it!" She snapped, before turning on her heel and all but fleeing the scene.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[august.]

bee.

filler

filler

filler

filler

filler

filler

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• aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

• home (filler tab)
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snap out of it

arctic monkeys

As she stood, propped up by the wall, Bee mused that her choice to fall asleep after four in the morning was the decidedly idiotic one. She had sat in the dark in her soulless hotel room for as long as her active mind had permitted, until springing from underneath the sheets at about midnight. Hoping to pace out some of the energy that radiated from the top of her head to the base of her feet, and crescendoed in the tips of her fingers, she found herself tuning and re-tuning her instruments until well into the early hours of the morning. Although it was difficult to pinpoint the precise source, Bee was guessing a healthy mixture of excitement and anticipation. She didn’t really get nervous, never one afflicted with stage fright, and ranking the bands public image comfortably near the bottom of her priorities list, Bee could only imagine that it was a regular case of pre-show jitters, or in this case pre-tour, pre-meeting the fans they would have to spend the next few months with and possibly befriend jitters.

Clutching the flimsy paper cup half full with what could only be described as tar and bringing it to her lips, she attempted to mask her sour expression as the coffee caused her tongue to retract into the back of her mouth. Bee was avidly trying to focus all of her attention on the girl sitting in front of her. It wasn’t exactly difficult to be fair, uninteresting was the last word Bee would use to describe Saff who was doing a very good job at taking her mind off of the headache building behind her eyes. Just as the bassist had parted her lips to speak though, a clap rang out across the stage, the decibel level of which she presumed rivaled that of a death metal concert. Bee winced, outwardly, holding a hand to her temple, any thought of a response to the obvious flirtation flying out her head in an instant. The culprit did not surprise her, objectively Maisha was a great crew manager, probably the best they could’ve dreamed of, but she did have some neurotic tendencies which inclined Bee to steer clear, especially when someone as inoffensive as Stevie could be a target.

"Yeah, later"

Bee grimaced in response, still holding the side of her head with a frown. Deciding she was above whatever this crap they were shilling as coffee was, she threw her cup in the nearest trash can and began her carefully practiced routine of slipping out the back undetected to find something drinkable. But then, the chaos started, and if anything was true about Bee it was that she loved drama, watching it more than being a part of it but she would take either. And as she watched this borderline meltdown from their crew manager, she swore her headache began to clear.

"And for god's sakes stop bothering Bee! Schmooze up to her after the show, would you?!" Bee found herself inclined to be on Saff’s side in this specific altercation, (and most likely any others) but this particular comment elicited a snort from Bee. who had moved her hand from the side of her head to cover her mouth. The ensuing silence from the latter part of Maisha’s meltdown and subsequent bolt from the scene was the girl’s breaking point as she burst into nothing short of hysterical laughter, clutching her sides and gripping the table.

“Suppose that answers your question Saff”

she choked through quick intakes of breath, it seemed like fans were the last thing the group needed to cause drama, they were doing a perfectly good job of it themselves.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[DreamBoy]

Stevie Rose Jackson

annoyed

the venue, near the stage

Maisha

When Bonnie passed by, Stevie's gaze snapped to her. She'd honestly been about to comply, get up and find something helpful to do away from the sudden drama, when Maisha opened her fucking mouth again.
Stevie didn't know much about Maisha. They'd been working together for months and sometimes she was a bitchy pain in the ass, and sometimes she wasn't, and she got away with way too much in terms of how she talked to the crew because Marcy had the hots for her. Pushing her buttons though? That was a good time. Sometimes the woman had a sense of humor about it, and sometimes it was just Stevie making her own (and Maisha's) life harder for the sake of entertainment. If the twinge of annoyance at seeing Marcy hang all over the woman like a lovesick puppy had anything to do with it well, she wasn't going to be admitting that to anyone, or acknowledging it herself.

"Really? All you've got is an insult for the outfits that have already been approved by the band, pr, and you? Swing and a miss, champ. Better luck next time."

She didn't really like stooping down to that level, but something about fighting with Maisha scratched an itch that usually lived unacknowledged in the back of her head. Even when the manager did manage to hit one of Stevie's nerves, it was no less satisfying.

That was enough Maisha bullshit for today though, and trailing after her just to get the last word would just be pathetic. Stevie jumped off the speaker, managing to not spill the last of her coffee in the process, and headed off in the direction Bonnie had gone, interested to at least catch a look at the fans who would be touring with them.

coded by natasha.

 

[weldherwings]

tobias yeop

the silent drummer

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so damn tired

side of stage

[/tab]

where were you mr sandman?

Mr Sandman must’ve skipped a few towns, because much like many others within the crew and band, Tobias Yeop could not sleep last night.

He had been up in the dark of the night, practising his drumming, perfecting it to his standards which were often placed way too high. The sweat dripped from his body as his arms flung and his legs stomped against the foot pedals, creating beats that could bring an army to their victory. The plan had been to practice until he was satisfied, have a shower, and try to get a full seven hours' worth of sleep. And that plan had been working so well until he laid his head down upon his pillow and attempted to close his eyes to fall into a land of slumber.

His stomach was tied in knots, weighing and dragging him down into the mysterious dark depths of despair. His brain was smothered with a collection of ‘what ifs’; and not just about the tour. Of course, there was an avalanche of concerns about all the things that could possibly go wrong with the concert. But there was also a destructive force that could wipe them all out in the form of those five lucky fans. Tobias felt at home with his band members; it had taken a full year to reach this point, and there were still a couple of members within their team whom he struggled to communicate to and with. But he had found a safe haven and comfort in the routine of their band together. Having these fans come along rocked that familiarity and stability he had spent the last year developing.

So, instead of sleeping, he had spent his time keeping his hands and mind busy by creating lego masterpieces, attacking the LEGO Technic Liebherr R 9800 Excavator he had received for Christmas from his parents last year. It took him almost an hour to sort out all the pieces from the box - all 4,108 pieces to be exact. Four hours of sitting patiently, his fingertips were numb from holding and manipulating such delicate intricate pieces, and his back aching from hunching over the table. He had decided it was time to call the quits, despite only being a fifth through the creation; only to discover the sun was teasing the horizon as the moon kissed the land goodbye.

It was at that moment he knew he had fucked up.

He never knew how hard it was to actually try to intentionally sleep until that day. Tobias felt like a six-year-old, banished to their bedroom by their parents on Christmas Eve and told not to wake up until Santa had come. After vaping, hoping it would aid in the process of falling asleep, he curled himself under his blankets, shut his eyes as tight as he could and prayed that some sleep dust would sprinkle over his body. All up, he managed to grab a couple of hours' sleep, but his body only flirted with the concept of deep sleep. Awoken by the sound of his alarm clock, Tobias felt worse than before he had attempted to get any sleep at all. Not only was there heaviness in his stomach from the anxiety, but his head weighed enough to anchor the Titanic into the sea beds.

So when he arrived this morning, it was no surprise that he walked around like a soulless ghoul. He was given instructions to sit down by the stage in preparation to meet the fans, and he did as he was told. No eye rolls, no back chatting, and no sass; he didn’t have the energy for any of that today. Instead, he sat upon the chair, slouched and phone in his hand, glued to a game of Candy Crush. The dopamine slowly releasing itself through his system with each successful swipe and match. He had hoped that it would be enough to potentially perk himself up for his schedule for the day. Alas, it was short-lived, distracted by the barking of the crew as they hurled insults at one another. One wrong swipe and he was now out of lives.

Fuck

If that wasn’t enough, the chaotic energy of Marcy was drawing nearer.

While Tobias adored the girl like she was his own sister, there was only so much Marcy he was possibly able to handle today. She bounced with pure joy in her steps before sitting down like a fifth grader starting their first day at school. And then she spoke, and Tobias knew he definitely didn’t have the energy for this today. The anxiety, sadly, was greater than his love and tolerance for this girl at this point. His arms crossed over, his knee bouncing up and down in a vigorous manner, Tobias couldn’t help but… stare at Marcy. It wasn’t just a normal stare; it was that stare. That stare that could make wallpaper peel. That stare that translated to a thousand middle fingers flying in the air and into the direction of the receiver of that stare. That stare indicated that Tobias wanted to shove his head through forty-three layers of drywall.

It wasn’t just any stare; it was Tobias’s.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[Athens]

OLIVIER

I've got a solution.

come in peace

Leave in pieces

seven wonders

— fleetwood mac

mood: ...tired
location: bus -> side of stage
outfit: here
int's: kieran, the band

scroll

Start your morning right, and it will set the tone for the rest of your day. Olivier had done everything right. He’d made all his calls earlier in the week, double checked arrangements the day before, went to bed early, lined his stomach with food, grabbed a coffee, and was even early to work. So why had God forsaken him in such a way?

He’d lost track of how long he’d been sat away in the bus, trying to cajole the furious voice on the other end of his cellphone.
“Arthur- Arthur please, slow down.” Olivier was up now, pacing up and down the narrow walkway. His coffee, untouched on one of the slivers of a counter in the space.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Olivier huffed, trying to tamp down on the irritation bubbling in his throat. Getting yelled at for all manners of reason wasn’t anything new but… How did he get my number? The thought fled with the same swiftness it came. Because he knew… Kiernan. For some unknown reason, probably to piss him off, Kieran had given Olivier’s phone number to his brother. And on the day when he had the most to do, the start of the tour, Kieran's brother decided to make his grievances Olivier’s problem.

Olivier didn’t want to be rude.
If Olivier found out from the internet first, that one of his sisters was traveling across the country, he’d be pissed too. But Arthur was furious, and Olivier did not have the time to be someone’s punching bag today when the said brother in question was probably doing jackshit and could deal with this himself.

Still, Olivier kept the phone to his ear as he attached his walkie to the waist of his pants, picking up his watered-down coffee, tucking his IPad under his arm and shouldering his way out the door towards where the band would be meeting with the fans.

“I don’t think a family dispute is grounds to sue, Arthur,” Olivier sighed politely, holding up a finger to the PA heading his way looking frantic. One problem at a time. “Do you really want to give your brother more fuel to be a pain in the ass?”

Olivier rushed through hallway at the back of the venue, coming out towards the side of the stage. Bee-lining for Kieran with an unamused expression on his face. “Alright, Mr. Murphy, it’s been my pleasure, but I really have to go. If you truly have a concern, you should take it up with Ms. Maisha Khanom, she is your brother’s manager.” Whatever Arthur said next was already tuned out as Olivier flipped open his IPAD, pulling up his personal itinerary for the day. “Alright, bye now. Have a lovely day.”

BEEP.

With a bland smile, Olivier stepped up towards the band scanning their faces intently. Great, they looked half-dead on their biggest press day. He did a quick skim over his notes before turning his attention back on the performers, “Okay, folks. I don’t know what’s going on here,” in the background, he could hear the tail end of Maisha exploding, but again, one problem at a time.

“I don’t care. Bonnie should be here with the fans pretty soon. You guys will get to do some brief introductions beforehand, but the main meet-n-greet will either be on stage or in a separate room with some members from the press that are waiting, thankfully, outside the venue right now.”

God forbid, they heard Maisha.

“We’ll get some photo-ops of course, but these journalists will also be here for sound-check and the performance itself to write about it. Which means, once we leave this,” He gestured in a circle around where they congregated. “Area, how you present yourself is how the press will perceive you; food for thought," He glanced at the lead singer, jittering about in her seat. "Also, someone please make sure Marcy drinks some water.” Olivier went to say something else, but was halted by the buzzing of his phone.

ARTHUR MURPHY

His face contorted before he could stop it. His day started off so nice. He didn't expect goddamn rainbows today, but the day had barely begun and his patience was being tested. Looking up, Olivier zeroed-in his gaze on Kieran. All guises of pleasantry dropped as he turned his phone to show the caller ID.

“Did you do this- Actually, no... Why did you do this?”
If Arthur wasn’t an emergency contact, Olivier would block him so fast… But alas, he had to deal with both Murphy brothers today.

[tags: Feral gingersnaps weldherwings deadly king august. ]

© reveriee

 

[gingersnaps]

scroll

the guitarist

kieran.

mood

amused

outfit

outfit

location

side of the stage

interactions

Olivier

tags

Athens

“PICK UP your damn phone.”

“Don’t be a bastard, Kieran.”​

Kieran had always had a natural expertise when it came to pissing off people. It was a gift, and a curse for everyone else. After 21 years of getting under people’s skin, he came to a rational conclusion.

“What the HELL do you mean you’re going on tour?!”​

Nothing drove people crazier than cold, cold indifference.



It seemed like Arthur had finally connected the dots. Kieran most definitely had not been the one to tell his older brother about the tour, but no matter how he found out, he sure wasn’t happy about it. That put a smile on Kieran's face. His phone started blowing up with Arthur’s texts early in the morning, and while normally Kieran would’ve just blocked him, it was just too entertaining watching Arthur lose his shit.



So, Kieran simply decided to ignore him. It was an easy decision: he’d choose to not to talk to his family over talking to his family any day of the week. So, he decided to enjoy his morning, by sitting by himself and playing loud music with his headphones in until someone came and yelled at him to move. The fans were due to arrive at any moment now, and he was expected to play nice when they did. Was he going to? Probably not, but the music would put him in a more agreeable mood.



His brother wasn’t the only thing Kieran was ignoring: he could tell from across the room that Maisha and Stevie were at each other’s necks (if they ever did fight, his money was on the stylist), and Marcy was…probably doing something weird, like always. Kieran left them to it, leaning back and enjoying the harsh melody-



“Did you do this- Actually, no... Why did you do this?”



A screen on his face suddenly brought Kieran back to reality. He blinked at his brother’s name and Olivier’s face, fighting the urge to burst out laughing. Instead, he just took out his headphones and stared at the PR manager.

“I’ve never heard of this person before in my life.” Kieran deadpanned.

The joke wasn’t gonna fly with Olivier- from his pained expression, he didn’t find the situation nearly as funny as Kieran did.



“He bugged me for a number to call in case of an emergency, since I got him blocked on everything.” The guitarist shrugged “And you’re just as much of a stick in the mud as he is…it felt like a perfect match to me.”

Of course, he did it because it would annoy both Olivier and Arthur. Two birds one stone. And all parties involved knew that.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[TheVoidQueen]

charlie anderson

the fan

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screaming inside

side of stage

[/tab]

stitched together with good intentions

This was it.

For weeks, this day had been living rent-free in Charlie's head, and this was it. The morning had stared off innocently enough, the light pouring into her apartment waking her up long before her scheduled alarm. She'd managed to sleep through the night only thanks to some Ambien. She felt rested, but the anxiety at meeting everyone was creeping on her.

The nerves couldn't entirely be attributed to meeting the band. Sure, she was itching to make a good impression on the people whose music she'd been obsessing over for the last few months, but the prospect of interacting with everyone else was just as terrifying.

Not wanting to drive her own car, Charlie had asked her dad to drop her off. It was a little embarrassing, bringing back unwanted flashbacks to high school. Like in high school, she'd been the first to arrive. The room the fans had been told to wait in for further instruction was void of any sign of life, and everything else, really. There wasn't anything to keep her occupied other than her phone, though the limited reception in the room made that a struggle.

She was beyond grateful when other bodies began filling up the space despite the fact that she kept her distance and made no moves to socialize. That shit could wait; they'd have plenty of time for that. She stood up a little too quickly when the brunette woman came in and told them to follow her. Charlie immediately took a liking to her, finding the fact that she hadn't even bothered to wait for the fans to respond highly amusing.

The woman's fast-paced walking confirmed that Converse had been the correct choice of footwear for the day as she struggled to not fall too far behind.

When the group arrived to where the band was, the vibe was more than a little off. Kieran talking to someone she could only assume was part of the crew, looking characteristically smug over something. Toby, eyeing Marcy like he wished looks could kill. More crew members looking tense, and Marcy seemingly oblivious to literally all of it. Whatever had happened couldn't have been too bad, considering Bee was beside herself with laughter.

Taking some fucking initiative for once in her life, Charlie put on a smile as she tried to keep her voice from wavering: "Hi everyone! I'm Charlie and, um, I'm super excited to be here!"

It sounded rehearsed. Okay, maybe it had been once or twice, but it sounded robotic, like she didn't trust her own voice to do something as simple as say her name. The fact that she'd fucking waved like a kindergartener did nothing to help her case.

Excellent first impression, surely.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[PinkChiffon]

Spoiler: Uncoded

Despite the ever-pleasant look that Bonnie had plastered on her face, she could feel her blood starting the boil as the led the group of fans towards the green room, and within earshot of the argument, being had between Stevie and Mai. Surely this was a bit, a joke, a jest. Surely they didn't start yelling at each other the moment Bonnie announce she was going to be bringing the fans back.

Bonnie opened the door to the green room, taking a quick sweeping look around before holding it for the select fans as they shuffled in. She noted Olivier on the phone, looking none too pleased., and Tobias was giving Marcy the Toabis look. Not sure what any of that was about, it seemed like no one was having a smooth day. That was of little comfort to her. The first girl spoke up quickly, making her own introduction. That's a great start, she thought to herself. Hopefully, they all go as smoothly as hers did. Bonnie was more than a little worried about the fans. The precursory interview wasn't all that extensive, she was hedging her bets on none of them being insane. Bonnie's gaze bounced between Olivier and the door, trying to make a choice. Olivier was responsible, he can handle this. "Well, I need to get going. It is great meeting you all, have fun, and I'll come to collect everyone before sound check starts. Olivier, you probably need to get photos and sound bytes for instagram, yeah?" Bonnie smiled pleadingly, fully knowing what she was really asking for was a babysitter. Once again, she didn't wait for an answer as she slipped out of the room, and headed for the stage.

On the way for the stage, she had passed Stevie going the opposite way, towards the green room. "Stevie," Her voice pitched up with her exasperated tone. She wordlessly gesticulated, unsure of where to even start, "I said be cool." That was all she could manage to get out before continuing down her path to the stage. "Maisha?" She called out scanning the sea of roadies before landing on Mai. If she was being honest with herself, Maisha made her nervous, especially when Bonnie knew her fuse was already short. "Can you walk me through the light cues? I don't think we've gone over the final run down yet." She smiled politely. All she really wanted was to have a word about how to talk kindly with coworkers, but maybe it's best to ease into it slowly.

Location:
Side Stage
Interactions:
The Fans, Stevie, Mai
Mood:
Stressed
Outfit:
Link

My Bonnie

Despite the ever-pleasant look that Bonnie had plastered on her face, she could feel her blood starting the boil as the led the group of fans towards the green room, and within earshot of the argument, being had between Stevie and Mai. Surely this was a bit, a joke, a jest. Surely they didn't start yelling at each other the moment Bonnie announce she was going to be bringing the fans back.

Bonnie opened the door to the green room, taking a quick sweeping look around before holding it for the select fans as they shuffled in. She noted Olivier on the phone, looking none too pleased., and Tobias was giving Marcy the Toabis look. Not sure what any of that was about, it seemed like no one was having a smooth day. That was of little comfort to her. The first girl spoke up quickly, making her own introduction. That's a great start, she thought to herself. Hopefully, they all go as smoothly as hers did. Bonnie was more than a little worried about the fans. The precursory interview wasn't all that extensive, she was hedging her bets on none of them being insane. Bonnie's gaze bounced between Olivier and the door, trying to make a choice. Olivier was responsible, he can handle this. "Well, I need to get going. It is great meeting you all, have fun, and I'll come to collect everyone before sound check starts. Olivier, you probably need to get photos and sound bytes for instagram, yeah?" Bonnie smiled pleadingly, fully knowing what she was really asking for was a babysitter. Once again, she didn't wait for an answer as she slipped out of the room, and headed for the stage.

On the way for the stage, she had passed Stevie going the opposite way, towards the green room. "Stevie," Her voice pitched up with her exasperated tone. She wordlessly gesticulated, unsure of where to even start, "I said be cool." That was all she could manage to get out before continuing down her path to the stage. "Maisha?" She called out scanning the sea of roadies before landing on Mai. If she was being honest with herself, Maisha made her nervous, especially when Bonnie knew her fuse was already short. "Can you walk me through the light cues? I don't think we've gone over the final run down yet." She smiled politely. All she really wanted was to have a word about how to talk kindly with coworkers, but maybe it's best to ease into it slowly.

This is unfortunately my circus and these are my monkeys

coded by incandescent

 

[Twin Fantasy]

gilda martelli

G

ilda was shuddering in her legs. A phrase that, to most people, probably doesn't make a whole lot of sense. But she couldn't feel much below her knees, so she couldn't very well shudder in her boots.

She'd spent a few hours making herself look presentable. Washing her face, drowning it in concealer that couldn't hide the scarring as much as she wanted it to. She'd really, desperately, wanted to be something impressive. She hadn't even been to a sleepover in a very long time, so this would be the first time she wasn't being looked over by her parents. It set her nerves on fire, in a way that she couldn't explain. Like a good fire. Not a bad one. A really good one, that's still scary, but not bad.

Seeing an old friend is always exciting.

Gilda hoped nobody would be jealous of her.

She'd been staring at the other fans over the top of her phone every few seconds, like they might kill her and eat her or something. They all looked sort of... hawkish. Not in the same way as Gilda's rich classmates, either. Those were vultures, but these were birds of prey.

Stay calm. You're gonna see Marcy soon. That's exciting.

They'd been classmates for a bit. Gilda thought of her as a friend, at least. Marcy never called her Johnny Peg Legs or shoved her wheelchair down the stairs. This had to be worth taking a semester off of college for, at least, because if it wasn't, Gilda's dad would be even more upset than he already was.

"...if you're all ready, I'll introduce you to some of the band..."

"I-I'm--" Someone else spoke first. A girl with bi-colored hair. Gilda flushed bright pink underneath her thickly-applied layers of liquid concealer. Nice one, dumbass. They were led away before Gilda could express much of anything. Past the door into the green room, people were arguing about something. Gilda lowered her head a bit, as if their argument might hit her in the face otherwise.

And then, the staff member walked away.

"Wait, are we supposed to--" Nope. Gone. Gilda scratched her arm a bit. "What do we... do." She needed instructions. She needed CONCRETE instructions!

MOOD

here

OUTFIT

click

LOCATION

Side Stage

TAGS

Fans & staff

coded by xayah.ღ