[identity profile] illgrowoutofit.livejournal.com 2011-07-24 06:00 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah, it's just this whole thing where bands usually have instruments, and I'm not so good with those. Or with finding people who are.

But if harshing your tycoon flair is at stake, I'll make it work somehow.

[identity profile] mghtbconcussed.livejournal.com 2011-07-24 06:05 am (UTC)(link)
Start working, Stud 'cause we can't have that. [She steps back to take a look at her work. She leans over him, grabbing a hand mirror and hands it to him.]

Look. Also, Jill plays piano. She's really good.

[identity profile] illgrowoutofit.livejournal.com 2011-07-24 07:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[He takes a look, and gives her a big grin and a thumbs-up.]

Does she really? Is she really?

[identity profile] mghtbconcussed.livejournal.com 2011-07-24 07:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She leans down to kiss his cheek, avoiding then still damp paint then wanders into the closet connected to the bathroom. She raises her voice to talk to him from the closet.]

Yup. She usually sticks to classical music but she can play anything. I mean if you're going for the Rock band thing, maybe not as useful but if you're going for singer slash songwriter, she might help you out if you asked.

[identity profile] illgrowoutofit.livejournal.com 2011-07-24 08:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[He thinks that over.]

Yeah, I could ask her.

[identity profile] mghtbconcussed.livejournal.com 2011-07-24 08:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[There's the sound of some shuffling in the closet. It's a decent sized walk-in that Lucy keeps meticulously organized. Her voice sounds a little muffled.]

She plays at the Blue Light every night except Mondays and Tuesdays if you wanted to have a listen first. So what sort of music are you thinking anyway?

[identity profile] illgrowoutofit.livejournal.com 2011-07-24 08:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, okay, cool. [Neil knows the place since Stephen Stills works there. He makes a mental note.]

It's uhmm... kind of hard to describe. Sort of... alternative stuff, I guess, but not real loud or accelerated. No chance you've ever head of Rogue Wave? [Probably not, because they're sort of Neil's pet obscure indie band. He searches for a more well-known example.] Or, like, The Shins-- I guess it'd be kinda like that.

[identity profile] mghtbconcussed.livejournal.com 2011-07-24 08:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Hmmmm maybe?
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Hmmmm maybe? <small.[She comes out of the closet dressed in a red, one shoulder tank and black skinny jeans.]</small> The Shins are good though. I like not loud or accelerated. Good music to chill to.

[identity profile] illgrowoutofit.livejournal.com 2011-07-25 12:53 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah, 's the kind of thing I usually listen to. It's-- yeah. [And now he will break off that thought and take a moment to appreciate Lucy.]

[identity profile] mghtbconcussed.livejournal.com 2011-07-25 01:25 am (UTC)(link)
[That's one of Lucy's favorite things about Neil: the appreciation. She grins and twirls then leans back in the closet to grab a pair of red patent leather high heels and a black and white houndstooth fedora. The hat goes on her head and she tugs the brim down a bit, winking at Neil.]

Ready to brave downstairs?

[And then she decides a warning is in order.]

There will be a speech from Jace. Don't let him know I warned you.

[identity profile] illgrowoutofit.livejournal.com 2011-07-26 06:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[The wink makes him smile, and he pushes himself to his feet and clears his throat.]

What... kind of speech, exactly?

[identity profile] mghtbconcussed.livejournal.com 2011-07-26 06:35 pm (UTC)(link)
(She shrugs a little.)

You know, the typical "you hurt my daughter I'll kill you" thing. Minus the daughter part.

(She watches his expression with a look of doubt. She fully expects him to run as fast as he can.)

[identity profile] illgrowoutofit.livejournal.com 2011-07-27 12:58 am (UTC)(link)
Oh. Uh, okay.

[It's not what he was expecting, but he figures he can handle it. He's not a stranger to being lectured. But he does wonder what exactly it means that he needs to be given a speech, and his brain begins running in overanalysing mode.]

[identity profile] mghtbconcussed.livejournal.com 2011-07-27 01:19 am (UTC)(link)
[Mostly it means Jace is an overprotective asshole but he's also got an idea of how damaged Lucy is so in a way, he's earned the right.]

I'd say you could duck out but he's persistent.

[She grabs some perfume and sprays it on her neck, in her hair and at the back of her knees before heading out of the bathroom, glancing over her shoulder just to see if he's following.]

[identity profile] illgrowoutofit.livejournal.com 2011-07-27 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
Nah, s'okay. [He keeps close, though, and his posture shifts slightly into a defensive position.]

[identity profile] mghtbconcussed.livejournal.com 2011-07-27 03:15 am (UTC)(link)
[She sees that defensive position and reaches back to take his hand, squeezing it lightly as they start down the stairs.]

Feeling like Daniel right now?

[She's teasing but she can imagine he sort of does. Jace can be intimidating when he wants but she did tell him to be nice.]

[identity profile] illgrowoutofit.livejournal.com 2011-07-30 12:45 am (UTC)(link)
[He's slightly scattered now, both analysing the situation and running through possible scenarios in his head.]

Huh? Like who?

[identity profile] mghtbconcussed.livejournal.com 2011-08-01 12:21 am (UTC)(link)
You know, the bible story. Daniel was thrown into a den of lions because he was a Christian. God protected him and he didn't get eaten.

At least I think that's how the story goes.

[identity profile] illgrowoutofit.livejournal.com 2011-08-01 12:23 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, right, I knew that.

I'm sure your friend's not a lion.

[identity profile] mghtbconcussed.livejournal.com 2011-08-01 12:38 am (UTC)(link)
Nope. Jace is one of the good guys, even if he'd rather not let anyone know it.

[identity profile] illgrowoutofit.livejournal.com 2011-08-01 01:07 am (UTC)(link)
I'll pretend I don't know.

[identity profile] mghtbconcussed.livejournal.com 2011-08-01 01:32 am (UTC)(link)
It's something we don't discuss around the dinner table.