Sound of Music [Lancaster]

[Meara]

Mea realized now, that the pub he was mentioning was actually his namesake. Now she definitely wouldn't forget either the pub or the man. "That's a nice name, kinda unique. Makes it easy to stand out as a performer, right?" She ran a hand back through her red hair as she considered his inquiry about if he did more than just busk. Truth be told she had done more. But she was unsigned as of present, and starting her own label was hard to do without capital.

"I'm mostly just a busker." She began, letting her blue eyes meet his. "I've dabbled in arranging and composing, and have performed at a few regional festivals in the eastern United States. But busking has provided me more consistent money since I never got signed." She gave a small shrug. "I've been toying with the idea of moving towards talent management and booking, but I don't have the connections yet for that." Her tone didn't portray that these facts bothered her, but was just how things were.

"It looks like your busking laid you some good roots for bigger and better things." Meara commented as she looked Lancaster over. "It gives me some hope I still might make it, yeah?" The gears in Meara's head turned for a few moments before giving the other man a grin. "What advice would you have for a muscician such as myself that is trying to make the bridge from bucking to more traditional pursuits?" Meara inquired of the tall man rather abruptly. If anyone would have good advice on how to make it in this endeavor, he surely seemed like it.

[Lancaster]

Roots, she said. It had Lancaster flinching before he regained his composure. Roots. He had a love/hate relationship with the word. At first he’d hated it and had avoided laying roots of any kind. But then he’d met Papillon, and the world had changed – at first briskly, then slowly, until roots had occurred naturally. They had been soft, and comforting. They were a blanket that helped one sleep at night.

Now, they were chafing. The blanket had pilled and was itchy and he wanted nothing but to shuck the thing. But Meara had not asked him how he felt about his roots, had only complimented them. Lancaster laughed.

”Bigger and better things? It depends on your definition. I’m not world famous – but then I never wanted to be,” he said. ”If you want end up like little ol’ me, I recommend ah… giving up your busking and roaming ways. Buy an apartment. Get married without getting married but then just make sure that the other person sticks around, ‘cause if they don’t you’ll just start to chafe. Chafing isn’t fun,” he said, the words should have been as appealing as vomit but they were uttered with a broad smile and finished with a flourish of a laugh. He sounded for all the world as if he were joking, but he was being as honest as the day he was born. He could not help it.

”But in all honesty, start with the roots. Then you need ideas, and a bit of capital to back you up. If you want to start businesses you’re going to be poor for a while, until they get off the ground and you start gaining profit. Work on one, use the profit from that one to start the next, and so on,” he said. That was if she really wanted to give up her music.

[Meara]

Meara's blue eyes kept fixed on the tall Australian as she absorbed what he had to say. A smile grew in her features as she listened. It wasn't bad advice, but for the redhead, she didn't really understand why being married had anything to do with the price of rice in china so to speak. She never had kept a boyfriend more than six months. Mainly because she rolled from place to place too much. The thought of her own apartment was really appealing, but she sure didn't have the capital to purchase one in the Clocktower yet. Or anywhere. Such was the life of a starving artist.

"I figured I was gonna be broke for the next forever, so it doesn't discourage me." She commented with a lopsided grin. For Meara to claim she had steady lodgings over the last few years would be a completely lie. She had gotten good at living out of her beater of a station wagon, and bartering with places to keep her fed. "As I said, I have the ideas to maybe get into more of a music manager role. I just need to keep meeting people and making connections so I can be effective ." She ran a hand through her hair. "Kind of like an applied version of my music that can help others become successful." She said with a confident grin. "But I likely have to take on side gigs for awhile to cover the bills so to speak."

[Lancaster]

Lancaster nodded thoughtfully.

”Being broke isn’t such a bad thing,” he said. Sometimes he missed the backpacker life. He missed living from city to city. He missed the challenge of finding a place to lay his head. Being broke, and living on the poverty line helped one to keep one’s modesty. It helped to keep people down to earth. The very rich should be forced to live poor for a year or two – it would do the world so much good.

”But it’s nice to have money, too. It’s nice to be comfortable. Strange, how money provides a safety blanket. It’s such a material thing, but we all rely on it so much,” he said with a small smile.

”In this line of work though, yeah. Connections are what you need, not money so much. I can help get you a gig space – for yourself, for any other acts you pick up. Free of charge. I don’t need any more money,” he said. It was the least he could do for someone with a life so similar to his own. It was like looking into an obscure kind of mirror. Meeting other buskers and backpackers, however, was not uncommon. Not when he owned a backpackers above a pub. It was a lure.

”If you need any advice from someone else who started a whole bunch of businesses with no experience , just swing in when I’m here, he said. Just like Lancaster, always offering his wing.

[Meara]

Meara couldn't help but light up like a Christmas tree as Lancaster offered her a place to play and host shows at. As she didn't know if the other guy was touchy-feely or not she resisted the urge to give him a large hug. "Really? You'd let me do that? That's fantastic. I'll set up like an open mike schedule for myself and as I meet people, I'll work them in." She was going to start working on her business plan when she got back to her desk. She could feel her thoughts racing a mile a minute with new ideas. Mea bounced a little on her toes as she soaked all of it in. Meara was extremely grateful for how kind the shop owner was, and it seemed his generosity was deeper than just the venue opportunity.

"I'll be sure to do that when ever i'm stuck!" Meara replied chipper at Lancaster's offer to help mentor her in a way. She was about to turn and wave goodbye when she realized she hadn't paid for any of her stuff. "Oh right. So I'll take the little retro portable amp plus all the stuff in my basket." She game a sheepish smile as she reached into her pocket for her debit card. "And don't try to convince me out of paying either mister. You've already been so kind with your willingness to help." The redhead gave a playful wink and moved to head towards the register.

[Lancaster]

The Australian laughed as he moved back around behind the counter, checking the prices of the items before putting them through the register. Working at the shop was so far different to tending bar. At the bar, it was all go go go. He knew the prices of the drinks like the back of his hand at this point. The music shop was different. He wasn't here often enough, and there were so many different things in the shop -- not to mention, he was of a more traditional bartering mindset. Prices were what he wanted them to be. Though he was aware that it wouldn't be great for business if he undercut himself all the time, or gave things away for free.

"No no. Nothing for free," he said, though he was sticking to the discount he'd mentioned earlier on. He had offered the discount before he'd offered anything else.

"I'll let the guys at the pub know to expect you -- just hit me up and we'll get things organised, and a schedule in place," he said. It'd be good to have a middle man, to take some of the pressure of the work off his shoulders. Someone to organise the music for Lancaster's... maybe it'd keep Lancaster from depressing everyone with his melancholia if the stage was never free for him to steal.

By now he'd tallied up the cost -- and with Meara's receipt, he would also give her a card with his number on it for when she needed to get in touch.