it's like forgetting the words to your favorite song ( open )

[schnapp]

Who | beth greene / open
What | what are you supposed to do with an unlimited credit card? buy a piano. and try to lug it up an elevator in a comedy of errors.
Where | some music store in the capitol / the tribute center
When | a bit after the mini arena
Warnings/Notes| naw.



She's never had a credit card before. She was 16 when the apocalypse hit, living in the middle of nowhere with an allowance for doing chores around the farm. Which promptly went into an old piggy bank that she's pretty sure is still sitting there among the ruins of their home, probably crawling with walkers by now. With all the photo albums and childhood movies and her mom's favorite china. Everything she's ever owned was worn-down, well used. Still loved, despite all that.

Needless to say, the Capitol is kind of a culture shock to her. And it would be, even by pre-apocalypse standards. They give her a credit card and tell her that it's unlimited, but she doesn't want anything they have - with one exception.

MUSIC STORE

The place is a wonder. It's everything she's ever wanted in a music store, all laid out in a way that's slightly intimidating. She knows how to play the piano - some simple songs, some basic chords, pretty and quiet, but she's not some kind of musical virtuoso. And there are so many things here that make her head spin.

She settles on the smallest piano she can find that doesn't look like a toy. There are some fancier ones, but this one sort of reminds her of the one they had at home, and nostalgia's a powerful motivator. She sits down and plays a fragment of the first song she can think off off the top of her head, singing quietly to herself.

and we'll buy a beer to shotgun
and we'll lay in our lawns
and we'll be good.

TRIBUTE CENTER

...but just because it's smaller doesn't mean it's any easier to drag down the street on a rolling board. They tell her that the avoxes can do it, but Beth's stubborn and the avoxes make her uncomfortable because she's aware of how much they've probably suffered. She doesn't want to make them do anything she can't do herself, and she actually makes it down to the tribute center, albeit exhausted and panting.

But the elevator has a slight raise to it. Enough that a person stepping over it wouldn't be bothered at all, but a girl with a ridiculously heavy piano? That's a whole other story.

Comments

Tribute center

[tookthewheel]

This is new.

Bucky stands behind the small blonde teenager struggling with the piano for a good minute or so, waiting to see if she'll manage in her task alone. After that minute passes it becomes clear that she's lacking the strength to accomplish the task and Bucky, wishing to get into the elevator to travel back up to his suite, isn't going anywhere until she does.

He knows he could take the stairs but prefers the quicker and more direct route of the elevator.

"Do you need help?"

[schnapp]

Despite her sheer stubbornness, it's kind of an impossible task for one small teenager on her own. It's really a two person job. Beth's a little stronger than she looks, but not strong enough to pull this piano up by herself.

She's so caught up in struggling with it that she doesn't notice that she's blocking up everyone else's path. Beth looks back, a little guiltily. Smiling faintly at the offer.

"I think I might," and by the way she let's go of the rope with a deep breath, it's clear that she does. "But if you've got somethin' to do, I'm sure I could move it a little to the side..."

[tookthewheel]

"No. It's fine." he replies quick enough. It's not like he has anything pressing to do.

Bucky steps forwards and assesses the situation before moving to the back of the piano. He sets both hands, one made of silver metal, to the back of the piano and waits for her to give the go ahead. "Where are you taking it to?"

[schnapp]

The metal arm gets a little bit of a reaction from her in the form of widening eyes, but it's easily suppressed. And even then, the thing that immediately comes to her mind is her father and his leg, remembering how much he said the prosthetic had ached at times. But that reaction is immediately pushed back as Beth takes a whole of the other end of the piano, using his strength to lift it a little easier than before.

"Seventh floor. My room," if it fits. She's pretty sure it's gonna fit. It just looked so small in the store. Beth pulls a little more and the wheel of the plank lifts above the raise in the elevator. Which means that all Bucky has to do is push it up and they're all good. "Thank you."

[tookthewheel]

Bucky sets his weight to the piano, ignoring the reaction to his arm as standard, and easily gets the piano into the elevator for her. Once there, the instrument takes up most of the room and he has to squeeze in to one side.

"Why was no one else helping you?" he shifts at the thanks, just a small bob of his head in response like he doesn't know quite what to do with it. Moving such a large piece of furniture is more than a one person job, someone else (an avox at least) should have been assisting this girl.

tribute center!

[reassures]

The thing about pianos is that no matter how how much you might be trying to move them on your own, not only are they ridiculously heavy, but they're huge, and they very easily draw attention. Nill's not sure what she's looking at when she walks inside the tribute center, outside of Beth obviously struggling with it, but as she draws closer she realizes what it is and her face lights up.

A piano. Beth got a piano.

Just like that she's instantly excited, and when she makes her way over to Beth she's practically beaming. instead of pulling out her notepad to say anything she immediately sets about trying to help shove the thing into the elevator.

GAY

[schnapp]

She doesn't notice someone trying to help her until she feels someone tugging against the piano in unison with her. That's how big this thing is in comparison to her.

It's Nill. The expression on her face makes her spirits lift a little, makes it a little easier to forget how terrible the last few days have been with the mini arena. She's been using various methods - the piano is one of them.

"Careful, it's real heavy--" she exclaims, but it's easier to push with Nill's help.

it's gonna get better I promise

[reassures]

The mini arena was its own special kind of hell, even for the people not actually participating. She'd seen Beth when it was happening, but hadn't sent her any tickets. (Nill feels bad about everyone that she didn't send tickets.)

The days after that weren't much better. The boy that had been in her district didn't come back. A lot didn't. So this is a really nice reprieve from being stuck thinking about that, and Nill is more than eager to take hold of it.

She's pretty sure Beth can't see her, but she lifts a hand above the piano to give her a thumbs up, which she might see. Nil maneuvers a little to try to tilt the piano so it's slightly off the ground on one side, and maybe possible to get it over that bump.

[schnapp]

It does actually manage to get over that bump with the two of them pushing hard, even though they're both slight. With Nill tilting and Beth pushing, it gets into the elevator, much to the grumbling relief of everyone else behind them who was waiting for their turn.

The elevator is kind of cramped with the two of them and the piano inside, and she's trying really hard not to squish the other girl between the piano and the elevator wall with the limited amount of space they have here.

"Here, wait --" if she can just turn the thing a little bit, maybe... "I bet you wanna get out, right? Unless you're goin' up?"

[reassures]

Nill's wings are folded down flat against her back so they won't take up quite as much room, and she's quick to shake her head at Beth's question. She lifts a hand, tapping the piano, before pointing up. If Beth couldn't get it on the elevator it was probably going to be just about as difficult getting it off, and Nill was more than happy to assist.

i see ur regina spektor lyrics

[celebrityskinned]

It's the last day of the year, Venus suspects, that she can get away with bare legs. And so she does, ignoring that the occasional wind will raise goosebumps through the scented lotion, that her toes are slightly flush in their peeptoe heels. When the season changes people will stop looking at her legs and look again at her face, which big sunglasses can only hide so much. When the season changes, their eyes will be drawn again to the swath of mangled scar tissue that spreads over her face. Her Capitol brand. Her traitor mark.

She goes to town and gets herself some magazines and some flashy hair clips and a hot chai and patiently waits for the walk back to the Tribute Center to take a stip. She pauses as soon as she walks through the doorway.

At first, Venus can't tell at all what Beth's doing that seems to be giving her so much trouble. Then it clicks, and something in Venus' heart tightens, remembering listening to Albert play and usher out his demons to beautiful music. And though she don't know this girl from Eve, she wonders if Beth performs the same exorcisms.

"Need a little help there?"

Don't judge I love her

[schnapp]

Everyone in the capitol seems to have the aim of being glamorous through extensive effort, carefully curating what seems to be the style of the season, however long that lasts. When Beth gets a choice in what she can wear, she still defaults to old habits. Cowboy boots, comfy jeans. Because there are things you learn - how to dress appropriately for running for your life. How to stop caring about copious blood stains on everything.

Part of her wants to be drawn in by everything beautiful the capitol has to offer, but it's habit that stops her. And of course her stylists n would probably disapprove of the fact that she's already chipped the nails they so painstakingly applied for her by gripping the rope to pull the piano.

She thinks that getting it up the stairs might require leverage but that's a two person job. Which is why the offer of help has her shooting Venus her best relieved smile.

"I wouldn't turn it down," she tells her, pushing sweaty hair out of her face. "It's heavier than I thought it would be."

no judgment!

[celebrityskinned]

"No worries. I didn't get killer biceps from only carrying groceries." Venus grins and pushes her sunglasses back on her head, revealing that awful brand splayed across her face, that skin plasticky and shiny from burned scar tissue. She looks as if she's forgotten it's there, but inside she's braced, prepared for Beth to react with horror even though she knows it's silly and vain to be so preoccupied with her own scars.

"I don't think I've met you yet." There's a bit of sadness in her voice; so many new people are here and so many of the old ones have left, and yet Venus remains, like the branch after the leaves have dropped in winter. "You got a name, Blondie?"

She sets her drink down by her feet and walks over, shrugging off her jacket as she does. "You got a way you want to do this?"

[schnapp]

It's true, the brand is pretty noticeable, and it does get a momentary but quiet reaction of shock. But honestly, once you've seen walking corpses with half their faces missing, it's a little hard to be surprised. Everyone from her world has seen more than their fair share of terrible injuries, not that they get any easier to look at over time. The look of surprise fades after a couple of moments, and she doesn't ask because most people would rather not talk about their scars.

"It's Beth," she replies, taking the nickname in stride. "What about you?"

She pauses, leaning over to look at the obstruction blocking their path. "I guess...if one of us pushes it up and the other pulls, that might work."

[celebrityskinned]

For her part, Venus doesn't seem to react to that moment of surprise on Beth's face. It twists up her guts a little, but her face remains unjarred and friendly. She's excellent at playing a part.

"Venus." She sets her hands on the piano, gripping. "Okay, you want to do the pulling part? I can put my shoulder into the push. We can get this done, peachy."

Music store

[ruffntumblenut]

"Whoa..."

Ruffnut's eyes were wide and her mouth hanging open as she appeared almost out of no where having listened to the music and the singing. It was so...gentle. Beautiful. It was like no music that Ruffnut had liked before.

She was wearing jeans that were marked with glittering stones in a snowflake pattern. Her dark green sweater had a red dragon on it and she had a sharp looking leather jacket. Thick headphones sat hanging off her neck, she had apparently been sampling some music because the curly cord was stretched out behind her and attached to a monitor on the wall. Customers were forced to duck under it as they moved around the store.

[schnapp]

Beth becomes aware of the noise behind her when people begin to grumble about having to duck underneath the cord of Ruffnut's headphones. Beth stops playing long enough to look behind her in an attempt to see what the commotion was about, spotting a familiar face in the center of it all.

"Oh, hey," she gives her a little wave, too. "I think your um. Cord is a little in the way there."

[ruffntumblenut]

Ruffnut blinked as the spell was broken and she looked behind her at the cord. With a shrug she slipped the headphones off her neck and they flew backwards with a crash knocking over a display in the process.

Completely unmoved by this senseless destruction Ruffnut turned back to Beth. "That was...really pretty. Not like boring and sleepy like when they play it at parties but like...delicate? It sounds like I might break it if I listen too hard."

This was Ruffnut clawing for descriptors for a sound she had never really given much thought to.

[schnapp]

The display goes down in a crash of breaking glass, as Beth watches on and winces, momentarily distracted from her playing enough to crane her head to see if anyone was hurt. Well, there were no injuries, which was something at least.

Every encounter she has with Ruffnut makes it clear that she's really not like anyone else Beth's ever met. Which is okay, it just takes some getting used to.

"Thanks," she sounds a little unused to that - it's such a good compliment, something actually thoughtful that it takes her aback for a moment. "Is that the kind of music you like?" Beth nods over to the headphones, that are...now sitting in a pile of rubble. "What were you listenin' to a minute ago?"

[ruffntumblenut]

"Huh? Oh no way." She laughed at the very idea that she would regularly listen to anything so sweet and gentle. "I dunno what that was but it had alot of drums and it was loud and it sounded like a battle." She grinned a crooked grin. The Capitol regulated it's music tightly like most other forms of artistic expression so whenever Ruffnut found music that sounded aggressive she tended to listen to it over and over again till she found something new.

"Back home we usually just sing war ballads and drinking songs and stuff. Loud fast music you know?"

Of course some Vikings preferred love ballads but Ruffnut was never one of those girls.

music store

[carnagecarnival]

There's something magic about music what ain't settled in no disc or recording. Music what's brought all just of sitting down to play. It's like it's own sort of chucklevoodoo, but one not made of fear. A way of reaching out and reaching soul without needing all that. It's this one little thing of not feeling so alone all the time, being able to feel it, even if he knows everyone's all here.

If this is her soul, he thinks, it's a nice one. Soft and bittersweet.

He's here in the music store often now, since Albert showed it to him. There's so much to see and listen to. It's the things like this, the little moments of random inspired playing, what really make it. He walks up slow to her, so she can see him and not be so surprised as to stop.

In the pause of playing, with only a little distant jealousy, he says soft, "You have a nice voice, sister."

[schnapp]

Over the last couple of months, she's learned to be incredibly vigilant. And it's not just her - everyone learns eventually. To sleep with one eye open, close to a weapon. To keep eyes and ears open for any sign of danger. She sees movement coming towards her and starts for a moment, accidentally pressing the wrong key. The dissonant tone rings out in obvious clash with the sweetness of the fading notes before it.

Oh, it's -- the Initiate. A title, not a name. There's no way that she'd forget about him.

"Thanks," it's a little mumbled because this was supposed to be about checking how nice the piano sounded, only the familiar pleasure of being able to play a piano got away from her a little bit. "Do you play anythin'? Is that why you're here?"

[carnagecarnival]

He's lived a smilar life, in that sense. He should've known she'd have caught him. But still, the fumble of keys makes him wince. He comes up close, and to her question, he shakes his head.

"NEVER OWNED SUCH THINGS." Too frivolous. If he had, it would've been broken and used for barricading or somehow made a weapon. "I used to sing. CAN'T NO MORE. For obvious reasons." He smirks wry, when joking about the fluctuations. It's a little sad too though. "NAW, I'M HERE BECAUSE I LIKE MUSIC. It's a miraculous art, it up and is."

He lifts up an album to show her, waving it a bit. "REAL THINGS IS BEST."

[schnapp]

The fluctuations are a little jarring, to the point where she kind of winces when he gets to be too loud. He waves a record in her face and it occurs to her that it's been such a terribly long time since she's heard one of those. Or any sort of pre-recorded music. Singing was the only access to music she'd had, and it was a small pleasure that she often took comfort in. Singing the baby a couple of lullabies to get her to calm down, or humming constantly while doing work like cleaning and caring for their guns. It made the world a little bit more bearable to live in.

She doesn't recognize the album he's holding, but she looks excited nonetheless. "I wonder if they have any Tom Waits. He's my favorite -- have you heard anythin' of his?"

Actually, they probably don't have Earth music if he's not from Earth. Right. She's still getting used to that bit.

[carnagecarnival]

He shakes his head, confirming her suspicions. "Wouldn't up and know," He says, but then he gives a glance around the shop. "ACTUALLY, THERE WAS THIS MOTHERFUCKER WHAT AS THEY WAS ABLE TO GET ON. Got told he's a human classic. SINATRA SOMETHING. Maybe they'll have at for your waits somemotherfuckingwhere."

That had been at a crowning. Two, actually. Clara had made all such clear to him.

Though truth told, he wouldn't all know if there was some troll incarnation of Waits or Sinatra. Singing was the only access what all he'd had too, until he laid ruin on his speaking. Then after that, it was just the music of the Carnival.

"MAYBE YOU CAN PLAY SOMETHING OF HIS," He suggests.