Evil Plan #002 || Making Money || Action/Log

[skeletalgrandson]

Who: Django of the Dead and YOU
What: Django is trying to make money. Give him money. Or just talk to him.
When: 1/6/2018-1/9/2018
Where: 4th Street Park -Genessia City
Warnings: Evil Skeleton trying to pretend at being good
Notes: Just name a time and date. He'll be playing for the three days straight

This city had the rule of making money and pay your own way.
It was a sort of arrangement Django could respect. He didn't like to be treated like a child and this place wasn't doing that. Maybe he could come to really like it here. He just needed money. Fortunately, he had his mystic guitar and the snow didn't bother him. He trudged through the city and quickly grew tired of it. He pulled the guitar off his back and started to hit harsh cords. Bright red lasers shot froth from the headstock of his guitar and melted the snow in front of him. He used the power with every few steps, moving through the city streets.

Soon enough he found the park on 4th street and thought it would be a good place. An hour or so of blasting and melting snow let him make a few paths to the center of the park where he could sit and play. He sat on the edge of a fountain and began to tune his guitar. He plucked at the strings and adjusted the machine heads. Once that was to his satisfaction, he began to play. He would play a variety of different songs and even take requests. He set his cowboy head down in front of him for people to toss money into as he played for them. He was sure he could attract some people to give him money. Fates help anyone who tried to steal it from him too.

Comments

[skeletalgrandson]

Django continued to dance and moved back toward the fountain. Follow him, other skeleton. Follow him and put money in his hat. He needed it for a place to stay, dammit. "My Nana taught me. Sartana of the Dead. She's pretty famous back home," He answered and picked up the pace, his fingers expertly strumming the strings even without flesh. He could move his fingers faster thanks to not having to worry about muscles and skin. "Sans. Cool name. How long you been here, Sans?"

[realbadtime]

Sans didn't really budge. Not yet. He was still, technically, considering it. Heaven only knew how he even had money, but there were a few red bills on him, somewhere.

"it's nice that your nana gave you that. she must be pretty good if you sound like this."

Finally, the older skeleton starts to shuffle forward, digging around in one pocket.

"almost a year now. i mean, i wouldn't bother looking for any sign of me. i don't show up much."

[skeletalgrandson]

"You a more behind the scenes kind of skeleton?" Django asked. That was a good sign. Sweet. He play even faster, drawing a fast and happy tune from the guitar. He back flipped onto the fountain behind him and aimed the guitar up. He hit a harsh cord and shot a red laser into the sky the exploded over him and he continued the song right on the same note he left off on.

"I like being out and about. Maybe I'll run into you more than once."

[realbadtime]

"i guess you could put it that way." Behind the scenes, under a blanket. He watches, his expression not really changing too much, as the laser shoots off into the sky, raining little red particles.

Hey, he was already paying, a small handful of red bills deposited into the hat.

"probably not."

[skeletalgrandson]

Money! Django finished the song and jumped down to scoop up his hat. A few red bills is nice. He placed it back on the ground and slipped the guitar on his back. He held out a clawed skeletal hand to Sans.

"Well, if not then it's a pleasure to meet you now."