Klavier Gavin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
der_gewinner) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
genessia2015-11-15 05:43 pm
der_gewinner) wrote in genessia2015-11-15 05:43 pm
Entry tags:
ACTHUNG! [OPEN!]
Who? Klavier Gavin and YOU! (Ja, YOU, und YOU, as well! Und YOU & EVERYBODY ELSE who's got their radios on them... ; ) )
What? The GOD OF ROCK and the ROCK of the COURTROOM is making a Grand entrance!
Where? The Bay (+ wherever anyone ELSE happens to be when they tune into Piano Man's radio broadcast)
When? Say, tonight, Sunday Night the 15th. Sounds legit...
Why? Because Klavier has to prove how he ROCKS THIS STAGE, too? ;)
ACHTUNG, and what the hell was THIS? Klavier awoke to not only find himself nursing a MASSIVE headache, such as he had not had an opportunity to nurse since moving to the United States, with their Puritan-inspired liquor laws, but he was also LOCKED IN A BOX! Granted it was an extremely comfortable box-- or at least, it would be, if his favourite purple acoustic guitar were not laying on top of him, like a damned annoying hooker who was not leaving him alone once the morning had come-- not that Klavier Gavin, innocent 17-year-old Prodigy that he was, knew of such lewd and seedy things....
His first thought, of course, was White Slavery, replaced quickly by the far more reasonable solution of "Rabid Fangirl who drugged his coffee at Jammin' Java". He grimaced as he realised his body was trapped, in this stuffy little-- Coffin?! That's certainly what it felt like, at least, until the damned lid snapped open, as if anticipating his further discomfort inside the box. He sat up and took a few calming breaths, before realising that something besides his guitar had fallen from his chest when he'd sat up....
Ooh, RADICAL! A new mobile phone, and an operating manual for it, too.... How helpful his kidnappers were....
And then, the God-forsaken hologram switched on to explain the situation to him. Of course, he chose to believe it, for what else could he do, really? The Truth will out, after all, no matter what, and if the Truth was something entirely contradictory to the line he'd been fed here, in the "Bay", as the pretty Fraulein had called it, well.. He would soon ferret out the True Truth....
For now, though, he decided to play around with his awesome new phone, setting it up to film him from a nearby rock, that was very nearly at eye level with him, when he was seated back in his "coffin"/"pod"/whatever-you-wanted-to-call-it... "Achtung, Genessia, I DO hope you are ready to ROCK! Live, from Los Angeles' famous Jammin' Java Café-- at least, that's where I was when-- whomever was to be drugging me, and bringing me HERE!" He gesticulated angrily at his surroundings, for effect, as he sat forward, with his guitar hanging about his neck, and added quietly: "Well, I would like to show you a little bit of good cheer, at least. So... Here is a song I recently sung for a very cute little fraulein, couldn't have been more than 7 or 8 years old, I swear...."
[[INSERT SUSPENSION OF DISBELIEF HERE, and pretend that this is a sruffy blond kid sitting in front of his camera with a damned guitar, rather than a MICROPHONE! lol~]]
At the song's conclusion, the young man clears his throat and asks hoarsely, "Sorry, but-- can anyone tell a man where to get a Coca Cola to soothe his dry, parched throat?"
What? The GOD OF ROCK and the ROCK of the COURTROOM is making a Grand entrance!
Where? The Bay (+ wherever anyone ELSE happens to be when they tune into Piano Man's radio broadcast)
When? Say, tonight, Sunday Night the 15th. Sounds legit...
Why? Because Klavier has to prove how he ROCKS THIS STAGE, too? ;)
ACHTUNG, and what the hell was THIS? Klavier awoke to not only find himself nursing a MASSIVE headache, such as he had not had an opportunity to nurse since moving to the United States, with their Puritan-inspired liquor laws, but he was also LOCKED IN A BOX! Granted it was an extremely comfortable box-- or at least, it would be, if his favourite purple acoustic guitar were not laying on top of him, like a damned annoying hooker who was not leaving him alone once the morning had come-- not that Klavier Gavin, innocent 17-year-old Prodigy that he was, knew of such lewd and seedy things....
His first thought, of course, was White Slavery, replaced quickly by the far more reasonable solution of "Rabid Fangirl who drugged his coffee at Jammin' Java". He grimaced as he realised his body was trapped, in this stuffy little-- Coffin?! That's certainly what it felt like, at least, until the damned lid snapped open, as if anticipating his further discomfort inside the box. He sat up and took a few calming breaths, before realising that something besides his guitar had fallen from his chest when he'd sat up....
Ooh, RADICAL! A new mobile phone, and an operating manual for it, too.... How helpful his kidnappers were....
And then, the God-forsaken hologram switched on to explain the situation to him. Of course, he chose to believe it, for what else could he do, really? The Truth will out, after all, no matter what, and if the Truth was something entirely contradictory to the line he'd been fed here, in the "Bay", as the pretty Fraulein had called it, well.. He would soon ferret out the True Truth....
For now, though, he decided to play around with his awesome new phone, setting it up to film him from a nearby rock, that was very nearly at eye level with him, when he was seated back in his "coffin"/"pod"/whatever-you-wanted-to-call-it... "Achtung, Genessia, I DO hope you are ready to ROCK! Live, from Los Angeles' famous Jammin' Java Café-- at least, that's where I was when-- whomever was to be drugging me, and bringing me HERE!" He gesticulated angrily at his surroundings, for effect, as he sat forward, with his guitar hanging about his neck, and added quietly: "Well, I would like to show you a little bit of good cheer, at least. So... Here is a song I recently sung for a very cute little fraulein, couldn't have been more than 7 or 8 years old, I swear...."
[[INSERT SUSPENSION OF DISBELIEF HERE, and pretend that this is a sruffy blond kid sitting in front of his camera with a damned guitar, rather than a MICROPHONE! lol~]]
At the song's conclusion, the young man clears his throat and asks hoarsely, "Sorry, but-- can anyone tell a man where to get a Coca Cola to soothe his dry, parched throat?"
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That changed the night Klavier pulled himself out of his pod. Even after he did, though, Ronan didn't immediately make his presence near the archway leading out known. He watched the full performance, eyebrows raising at the frank strangeness of this newest arrival. He began to clap slowly after the song was concluded, finally announcing his presence to this new guy, cigarette held expertly between his lips, his fedora cocked at an angle.
"It's not a proper pop, but I know a place to get one, sure." He inclined his head in greeting and approached, holding out a hand for a shake, the cigarette never leaving his lips. "Detective Ronan O'Connor. Welcome to Genessia."
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no subject
But here this woman was, flying low over Genessia with her magic dolls beside her when she heard the sounds of noise trying to be song. She spotted the source and floated down to this blonde-haired "rockin" man and landed only a few feet in front of him, her dolls floating at her sides.]
"You're quite noisy for a human. What are you doing being so loud at an hour where bad things could happen?"
Video
When he asks she responses, her face flickering onto his screen.
"I know of a few places in Genessia. Would you like me to show you or just give you the address." It's not like the drinks she's used to but there are a few places nearby that she really likes. She's also not opposed to meeting him if he'd rather not walk through a strange new city alone, though whatever he wanted to do was completely up to him.