|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 9:37 am
Still a bit scalding, the man in glasses had continued to dump creamer after creamer into his coffee to cool it down. The humming stopped abruptly with a blush at the sudden small voice- His brows knit as he glanced over his shoulder to the pink haired young lady who's voice was, well, very familiar. He couldn't quite place it, though, instead smiling weakly but politely, "Oh! I don't suppose you've heard of Les Miserables, have you? It's an opera, more-or-less. At least there aren't really any spoken words so I like to think of it as an opera. I tried to read the book once, but it's not quite as fun without the catchy tunes."
He cleared his throat, taking another tentative sip of his coffee, trying to not be obvious about his curious staring back at the other table. It wasn't just the girl's voice, but the shaggy-headed young man kept hitting some sort of familiar nerve... had they met before? He was certain he would have remembered someone with such outrageous hair.
"Do you hear the people sing? Singing the songs of angry men. It is the music of the people who will not be slaves again~ " He sang quietly to his new friend with an almost embarrassed smile now, "I've had it stuck in my head all morning. It's about the French Revolution, really, but well, ahah..."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 4:19 pm
Robert almost choked on his toast as he caught a strain of song. His song. He's performed that very song on stage, not to mention in front of anyone who would listen. He swallowed hard, and his head tilted down the table to stare at the man Ennea had struck a conversation with. A hungry grin broke across his face, splattered with a couple of pieces of food that may have remained in his teeth from his savage eating.
His fist slammed against the table, as the music within swelled from inside, and he couldn't help himself. He pushed himself up, and the character took him over. He was Enjolras, and he was leading this revolution with the pride of his people behind him, and the blood of the fallen leading the way.
"When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums! There is a life about to start, when tomorrow COMES!"
He started rounding the table, his hand crooked behind his back in an odd, weirdly French manner. He switched songs, but not musicals, far too enveloped in the character to really care if he was making a fool of himself.
His hands slammed down on Jordan's shoulders as he made it around to the man.
"The time is near. So near it's stirring the blood in their veins! And yet beware.."
He reached out, and slipped the cup of coffee out of Jordan's hands, putting it back down on the table.
"Don't let the wine go to your brains!"
A bellowed laugh, and Robert's big boot came down on the corner of the table. He leaned his arm against it, eyeing each and every Phoenix member - and that other guy, the one who'd injected a healthy dose of nostalgia into him for Les Mis.
"For the army we fight is a dangerous foe. With the monsters at arms that we never can match.."
Okay, so he was changing the words a little. It made sense, damnit.
"It is easy to sit here and swat 'em like flies. But the shadows at night will be harder to catch."
His foot dropped down, and his fist rose up in the air, as the music in his head swelled dramatically.
"We need a sign! To rally the people, To call them to arms, To bring them in liiiiiiiiiiiiiine!"
Aaaaaand ******** YEAH LES MIS." Robert suddenly barked out, pointing at the new guy. "You're all right, bro."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 5:07 pm
The man jumped at the sudden explosion of singing, head craning around to stare at Robert with such speed his glasses slipped down his long nose.
He knew that voice. There was no mistaking it. The other voices all clicked into place, but he had heard it before- in a dream of death, where nothing mattered any more and so they had sung- sung away their sorrow, sung away their fear, sung their way into the world beyond...
His brain took a few moments to catch up, fumbling his internal catalog of memorized lyrics before grabbing a hold of something and taking a hold even if the words expanded into something that had little to do with the French Revolution, his face white and his voice weak, "A ghost you say... a ghost maybe. They were just like a ghost to me... One minute there and they were gone...Alpha... Alpha Seven? Is.. um... are... I mean..." Glasses pushed back up, he glanced to the other faces, all quickly trying to take some sort of count, but really there was no way to know for sure...
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 5:08 pm
The click was almost audible. Jordan sat up straight and started to turn back towards the other table; then he jumped as Robert smacked his fist into the table and surged to his feet. And broke into song.
Jordan stared at Robert, simultaneously nonplussed and amused. That was one thing he hadn't expected out of Robert; he reminded himself not to underestimate his friend, because clearly Robert was still full of surprises. He supposed he should have been clued in by the recollection that Robert had started the singing in the lounge, after they'd all died. But he'd half forgotten that.
When the brief, impromptu performance had concluded, he applauded, grinning. The enthusiasm alone had made it entertaining, entirely aside the fact that Robert could actually sing.
Then he turned to the bespectacled man, the grin not leaving his face. "Name and number, soldier," he said, and hoped his guess was right.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 5:37 pm
Regardless of the fact that the one who had barked the order looked like a Punk Kid, instinct took hold just the same as it had on the battle field, the suited man snapped to a smart solute, announcing just as proudly as he did back then- "Zeta Four, sir!" Then lowered his hand a bit as though embarrassed, but his face had split into a wide, positively ecstatic grin, eyes practically sparkling behind his glasses, "But er... also known as ah.. Jeremy Collins, sir. Er, Jerry, ahahah.. um!"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 5:44 pm
"Get over here with the rest of us Phoenixes, Jerry," Jordan said, grinning fit to crack his cheeks.. "Good to see you made it. I was hoping you would." He picked up his coffee mug again and raised it in a silent toast.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 6:09 pm
Robert had actually expected the meek looking boy to sing the part of Marius, so he only grinned when the song continued. Of course, the one thing he hadn't expected was to hear his squadron number directly after, and his grin fell in lieu of a 'duhwut' face. Mouth slightly askew, he looked from Jerry, to Jordan, in dumbfounded confusion, until finally he heard it.
His hand lifted to point at Jerry, as the slow gears finally turned.
"Oh. OHHHH. Oh s**t, that's some serious coincidence, right there." Phoenix members were cropping up left and right. Pretty soon they might have the whole-
His smile faltered for a moment, but a faker one quickly took it's place.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 6:11 pm
Madison accepted the offered napkin with a small, wry smile, dabbing the strawberry jam off of the tip of her nose before taking another bite - only to very nearly splat the entire piece of toast onto her lap as Robert slammed his fist down on the table. She barely managed to recover the toast, and stared wide-eyed as the older boy broke into a rousing rendition of... something.
She didn't clap when Robert finished his impromptu performance, though she had the toast in her hands to blame for that. Her eyes wide, she looked from Jordan to the stranger and back again...
Ah! she tried to say as the stranger said his number, except - given that her mouth was full of bread and sticky jam - it came out more like "Mfgh!"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Interesting Conversationalist
|
Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 6:49 pm
Petra had actually smiled when Jordan had 'complimented' her on her timing, although she hadn't said anything, following them into the dining hall to sit down with the rest of them. If she seemed surprised by Robert's hoarding of the food, she she didn't show it, barely even looking over at him as the others chatted, although she did reach over to take a peach and a piece of bread from his plate. For the most part, she seemed completely satisfied just to wallow in their company and pleasant conversation, (although most of it was just about how amazing real food tasted -- she concurred.) There was, however, a slight barrier between herself and the rest of the group, one which she could not decide whether was really there or just a figment of her imagination -- perhaps it was because they had all been Alphas, while she was the lone Zeta at the table, the odd man out. But no, it couldn't be that... they were Phoenixes first, it didn't matter. It was more likely, she thought to herself, the fact that she was so cold, and the fact that she offered nothing to the conversation.
It was Ennea's giggles that gathered her attention first, her blue eyes sliding to the lavender-haired girl for a few moments, watching her laugh for a second before smiling privately to herself for a moment before turning her attention back on the knife she was using to slice the peach. When the girl turned her attention to someone outside of their table, she only just barely flicked her eyes to them, looking them over for a second before again returning to what she was doing. Why should she? Even the first hints of the man singing didn't register with her, not even bothering to look up as Robert stood to act out his part, having heard it fifty million times before. (In fact, the only person she glanced at when Robert stood up was Jordan, who seemed to feel a similar sentiment towards the performance as she did.)
It was only when the first utterance of 'Zeta' rolled off of Jerry's tongue that she stopped what she was doing, pausing for a second to consider this for a second, as if she might have heard wrong.
"Zeta?"
Looking up from the peach, juice running over her hand from where she'd sliced it, Petra half stared at the new addition, her eyes surprisingly expressive as they widened to saucers.
"Four!"
It was probably the loudest she had exclaimed the entire time she had been at Deux, barring the time Robert had almost shot himself in the head (which had turned out to be fake, anyway?) and the previous night. She'd completely dropped the peach she had been holding, standing up in a strange combination of slowly and quickly, her palms pressed against the surface of the table. Sliding out from behind her chair, she moved over to stand over by him, just looking at him for a second as if she wasn't sure she quite believed it, half annoyed that her hand was still sticky from peach juice -- she would have placed a hand on his shoulder in a familiar gesture.
"I'm... pleased to see you're satisfactory," she addressed him with a slight pause, reverting back to how she would have spoken to him while they were Zetas, although her eyes watched him curiously, wondering if he'd recognize her.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 7:08 pm
Now that things were back in context, it was easier to place the familiar voices Zeta Four had memorized what felt like a life time ago, with the features Jerry Collins now was taking in for the first time. As Petra suddenly moved to his side, his face went red, smiling widening even further, if it was possible, "Miss Zeta Eight! I'd know that cold tone anywhere, ahahaha!" Before he could stop himself, his arms suddenly flew around her in an ecstatic embrace, and for a moment he tried to lift her- he was no Robert, unfortunately, and he quickly turned it into an enthusiastic hop to hide his lack of strength, "It's amazing to see you face to face, as it were! Ahaha a bit bizarre even!"
His heart was racing, emotion pouring out as the world suddenly was feeling a lot less lonely and a lot more encouraging. They had never touched, skin to skin before... but she had always been there. From the beginning. From when he had made a fool of himself in the Zeta camp to the haphazard raid...
Before she could wriggle free of his hug, and before his brain could catch up with the instinctual joy, his head had moved forward, lips planting just to the right of her's, as though some semblance of self preservation had veered him off course.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 7:26 pm
There was a sound, like trampling footsteps.
And then, Jerry kissed the second thing that day.
Robert's fist.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 7:37 pm
Glasses went flying.
As did Jerry.
Overall, he reflected, this was turning out to be a lot better a day than he had first theorized. That was usually the case, wasn't it?
He was still giggling when he hit the floor.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 7:44 pm
Madison's eyes widened like saucers.
Better than a soap opera.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 8:07 pm
Jordan stood, took three steps, and placed himself between Robert and Jerry. He looked to Robert first, staring the bigger man down. "No more of that, please," he said pleasantly. "Let him know why you donated a punch, and I imagine no more problems will be had." He held Robert's eyes a moment longer, then looked to Jerry.
"Your enthusiasm is natural enough," he told Jerry. "But you might want to pick a girl without a boyfriend next time." He smiled wryly and held out a hand to help the other man up.
When Jerry had gotten back on his feet, Jordan looked between the two men, his gaze measuring and weighing. "I'm aware you guys aren't the best of friends," he said quietly. "But we're all Phoenixes and Hunters here. I'm asking you to think before punching. Can you do that for me?" The question was addressed to both, though its phrasing was likely intended for Robert.
His eyes flicked briefly to Madison, warmed slightly. Yeah, this would be funny later, but right now he was being A1, Boss.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 8:40 pm
Robert imagined that Jerry had better buy the boss some kind of gift, because his interference had just saved his life.
His arm curled around Petra, though his eyes remained focused angrily on the laughing man on the floor. He didn't need to explain the situation, because directly after asking for it, Jordan had given the answer himself. Robert's possessive hold, pressing Petra against his body in an effort to try and calm down, was a picture that spoke a thousand words, as well.
"Whatever you say, Boss." Robert muttered under his breath, though he didn't sound very happy about it.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|