Alt+F4 (Eva)
Posted: 06 Jul 2016, 23:47
Midnight striking, the beat was pulsing in a dizzying rate, the strobes flashing along. Behind the dancing crowd, a hooded figure at the turntables, keeping the music alive, gloved figures dancing along the mixboard. Masked eyes studied the crowd, watching the bodies twist and turn, close proximity to one another. It was as if the music ran through their blood, and the figure knew this. It wasn't their first rodeo, per se. As the beat began to slow, a mechanical voice came over the sound system. Thank you all for coming tonight. We enjoyed having you here. Winding things down, we just wanted to remind you that there will be another DJ coming in next week, and we would love to see you all there. We'll be closing things down in a few moments, but remember. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here. With that, the hooded figure began the last track of the night, the rhythm quick, the pulse hard. The mood set, the figure stepped away from the turntables, fading into the darkness, heading to the office. There, the manager of the club was looking over the crowd. He seemed pleased, turning to offer the figure a handshake, which was ignored.
"...Right. You did good, kid. Crowd seemed to be pleased. Tell you what... If you come back, mmm, in two weeks, and sell just as well? I'll see about keeping you coming, yeah? Here, your take for the night." An envelope was held out, and the figure took it with a nod. "Still kinda strange, yeah? You always keep that mysterious look to ya?" Snorting, he shook his head, then lit a cigarette. "Oh well, that's the 'life' of a DJ, yeah? You all seem to have your own quirks. Take.. what's his name... the one with the giant mouse head helmet... Good guy, just a bit of a goof with the whole helmet look. Same with those two French guys." Again, he shook his head, then smirked, the figure just standing there, unnervingly quiet. "And this whole talking bit... yeah, not gonna lie, it's a bit creepy as ****, yeah?" Shrugging, he returned to looking over the crowd. "Keep your skills sharp, my friend, and they'll be the rats to your pied piper... It's what I've learned over the years. Most want to dance to get away from it all. All that chaos outside the doors. For the whole time you spin those tracks, there is no reality outside of the club." Looking back, and the figure was gone. ".. yeah, tha-.. Well then... ******* creepy."
Slipping out the back door of the club, the figure lowered their hood for a moment, only long enough to slip headphones on. In that moment, there was a flash of dyed hair, of the neon blue variety, before it was once again covered. The figure began to walk to the transit, keeping their head down, hands in pockets, as the smartphone played a subtle melody, pulses keeping hidden fingers tapping. Free hand wrapped around the envelope, it not very thick. Normally the managers would give a slightly bigger cut, but this one wouldn't budge with percentage. Traffic whizzed by in the twilight hours, figure drawing closer to destination.
Reaching the transit, the figure paused, looking up to check where to go next. An unfamiliar name was listed. Harper Rock. Ontario. Ticket purchased, the figure's destination now was locked in. They'd go to Harper Rock, and see what the place was about. Maybe the crowd would be just as easy to entice with the beats as the rest, though one couldn't be sure. It was an alluring uncertainty. As soon as the passengers, including the figure, filed in, the bus took off.
Scenery changing as the bus rambled on, the figure watched out the window, ignoring the snoring of a young man, probably a runaway. The kid had a backpack overhead, while the figure just had the clothing they were wearing, and whatever was held in the multitude of pockets. As stops passed, and the kid still slept, the figure looked over, nudging. He awoke, though still in a daze. Signalling that it was the kid's stop, the figure then leaned back, as he slowly stood up, and began to walk out. About to stop him and say that he left his pack, the kid was already gone, and the bus was off. After two more stops, it was the figure's. Harper Rock. Standing up, they grabbed the backpack the runaway had forgotten, and headed off the bus. The kid's loss was their gain. The bag was somewhat heavy, and clanked a bit. It was almost like the kid was living out of the pack, and they probably had been.
Standing outside of the station, the figure looked around, as they adjusted the backpack, taking in the city. So this was Harper Rock...
"...Right. You did good, kid. Crowd seemed to be pleased. Tell you what... If you come back, mmm, in two weeks, and sell just as well? I'll see about keeping you coming, yeah? Here, your take for the night." An envelope was held out, and the figure took it with a nod. "Still kinda strange, yeah? You always keep that mysterious look to ya?" Snorting, he shook his head, then lit a cigarette. "Oh well, that's the 'life' of a DJ, yeah? You all seem to have your own quirks. Take.. what's his name... the one with the giant mouse head helmet... Good guy, just a bit of a goof with the whole helmet look. Same with those two French guys." Again, he shook his head, then smirked, the figure just standing there, unnervingly quiet. "And this whole talking bit... yeah, not gonna lie, it's a bit creepy as ****, yeah?" Shrugging, he returned to looking over the crowd. "Keep your skills sharp, my friend, and they'll be the rats to your pied piper... It's what I've learned over the years. Most want to dance to get away from it all. All that chaos outside the doors. For the whole time you spin those tracks, there is no reality outside of the club." Looking back, and the figure was gone. ".. yeah, tha-.. Well then... ******* creepy."
Slipping out the back door of the club, the figure lowered their hood for a moment, only long enough to slip headphones on. In that moment, there was a flash of dyed hair, of the neon blue variety, before it was once again covered. The figure began to walk to the transit, keeping their head down, hands in pockets, as the smartphone played a subtle melody, pulses keeping hidden fingers tapping. Free hand wrapped around the envelope, it not very thick. Normally the managers would give a slightly bigger cut, but this one wouldn't budge with percentage. Traffic whizzed by in the twilight hours, figure drawing closer to destination.
Reaching the transit, the figure paused, looking up to check where to go next. An unfamiliar name was listed. Harper Rock. Ontario. Ticket purchased, the figure's destination now was locked in. They'd go to Harper Rock, and see what the place was about. Maybe the crowd would be just as easy to entice with the beats as the rest, though one couldn't be sure. It was an alluring uncertainty. As soon as the passengers, including the figure, filed in, the bus took off.
Scenery changing as the bus rambled on, the figure watched out the window, ignoring the snoring of a young man, probably a runaway. The kid had a backpack overhead, while the figure just had the clothing they were wearing, and whatever was held in the multitude of pockets. As stops passed, and the kid still slept, the figure looked over, nudging. He awoke, though still in a daze. Signalling that it was the kid's stop, the figure then leaned back, as he slowly stood up, and began to walk out. About to stop him and say that he left his pack, the kid was already gone, and the bus was off. After two more stops, it was the figure's. Harper Rock. Standing up, they grabbed the backpack the runaway had forgotten, and headed off the bus. The kid's loss was their gain. The bag was somewhat heavy, and clanked a bit. It was almost like the kid was living out of the pack, and they probably had been.
Standing outside of the station, the figure looked around, as they adjusted the backpack, taking in the city. So this was Harper Rock...