The Extras (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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taxonomites2012-08-24 10:55 am
theextras) wrote in taxonomites2012-08-24 10:55 am
Entry tags:
System Glitch: Show's Over
Late in the evening on Friday the cacophony of music fades out. The rock and the country, the nameless old folk songs and the hip hop, the jazz, dance, rhythm, blues, the punk and the disco, all gradually peter out to be replaced with one lonesome guitar and one rich, raspy voice.
And who by fire, who by water,
Who in the sunshine, who in the night time,
Who by high ordeal, who by common trial,
Who in your merry merry month of May,
Who by very slow decay,
And who shall I say is calling?
It slithers down alleys and over front porches, around high rises and along the river. It wends it way under doors and through open windows, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.
And who in her lonely slip, who by barbiturate,
Who in these realms of love, who by something blunt,
And who by avalanche, who by powder,
Who for his greed, who for his hunger,
And who shall I say is calling?
Over the pounding surf in Osten, rustling the forest leaves in Wilde, Speares' public spaces and Shelley's open land, touching every corner of Sanctuary Square in Central. It's a summons, a warning, a plea...or all of those plus a dramatic flourish by the aliens.
And who by brave assent, who by accident,
Who in solitude, who in this mirror,
Who by his lady's command, who by his own hand,
Who in mortal chains, who in power,
And who shall I say is calling?
When the violins cut out all is briefly quiet. Then the normal sounds of a Friday night in the city resume, perhaps a bit less musically. A few may notice that this night the air is a bit chillier, less balmy than it has been for the past several months.
Summer's dying, citizens, enjoy it while it lasts.
OOC: Thus endeth the musical glitch! Feel free to have characters respond to this post with "WTF"-ing and a total lack of singing.
If you still need to get a post out feel free to do so, but today (8/24) is the last day for them. Have at!
And who by fire, who by water,
Who in the sunshine, who in the night time,
Who by high ordeal, who by common trial,
Who in your merry merry month of May,
Who by very slow decay,
And who shall I say is calling?
It slithers down alleys and over front porches, around high rises and along the river. It wends it way under doors and through open windows, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.
And who in her lonely slip, who by barbiturate,
Who in these realms of love, who by something blunt,
And who by avalanche, who by powder,
Who for his greed, who for his hunger,
And who shall I say is calling?
Over the pounding surf in Osten, rustling the forest leaves in Wilde, Speares' public spaces and Shelley's open land, touching every corner of Sanctuary Square in Central. It's a summons, a warning, a plea...or all of those plus a dramatic flourish by the aliens.
And who by brave assent, who by accident,
Who in solitude, who in this mirror,
Who by his lady's command, who by his own hand,
Who in mortal chains, who in power,
And who shall I say is calling?
When the violins cut out all is briefly quiet. Then the normal sounds of a Friday night in the city resume, perhaps a bit less musically. A few may notice that this night the air is a bit chillier, less balmy than it has been for the past several months.
Summer's dying, citizens, enjoy it while it lasts.
OOC: Thus endeth the musical glitch! Feel free to have characters respond to this post with "WTF"-ing and a total lack of singing.
If you still need to get a post out feel free to do so, but today (8/24) is the last day for them. Have at!
[text]
What was that? Anyone recognize it?
[text]
They've got some fucking taste.
Paul may be feeling a few chills himself.
[text]
The fact that the aliens appear to be fans of 1970s Leonard Cohen is of less concern to Sherlock Holmes -- poetry, even to music, being somewhat over his coiffed brunette head -- than the possibility that he and Paul Smecker may share a timeline.
[text]
Not unless Holmes is a lot older than he looks. Paul's managed to make the adjustment to the majority of Taxon being 10-13 years from his future; the younger man's quick taking to the tablets suggests to Paul, at least, someone from 'the future' as he thinks of it.
And not that it really matters if Holmes is familiar with an album before was born either. Not like there's a law against that, ha, ha, ha.
The actual gist of Holmes's text doesn't occur to him-- Paul's observed that even when some people come from universes with mutants and vampires and superpowers, a lot of cultural touchstones like Beethoven and the Kinks have remained the same. The Ozzies are one of the major exceptions to that in his purview.
[text]
...great Glinda's bloomers he is occasionally a massively selfish overgrown child.
[text]
[text]
That little complaints box outside Sanctuary gets emptied every Thursday by the way.
[text]
They ever answer any of your complaints?</font<