[Regular]The Greatest Show On Earth(Jan + Franz + Howl)[FIN]

[candy lamb]

Franz was bubbling like a glass of soda pop. He was normally what Howl would call effervescent, but on that particular night he was sparking over like faulty wiring -- enough to drag Howl out of Hillworth, tap his foot impatiently like a girl as they changed in the public toilets, occasionally let a war whoop up into the air as though he was eight years old.

The reason? They were going to a jazz band rehearsal.

A jazz band. A jazz band rehearsal. At the Corner Cafe.

"Seriously, I know the clarinetist," he was saying, although he had pointed out that he knew the clarinetist about five times previous as though he expected Howl to disbelieve that he knew such an august personage. They were walking down the street, and Franz kept on idly stopping by in front of shop windows to check his hair -- not something Franz ever usually did, as vain was one thing you couldn't accuse Franz St. Germaine of being. It had been the first time he'd ever asked Howl, overly casually, if he "looked okay." "I've listened to the demo CD enough -- you can't actually know a band until you've heard them rehearse, you know? How they put themselves together. Seriously, this'll be great."

He added, superfluously, for what was now the seventh time: "I know the clarinetist."  

[LizzyMoo]

After having such a serious conversation with Franz the other evening over cleaning chairs, Howl had been wondering about his "mystery girl." His roommate was one who talked passionately, but it was like his passion had taken steroids for that conversation, which had indeed piqued Howl's interest.

So when he had been asked to join the blonde for a viewing of a jazz band practice session, the feminine lad couldn't help but notice how energetic his friend was. He had been practically bouncing like a child in a toy store. The energy was hint enough that this encounter was something Franz was looking forward to. Howl could not refuse such an offer.

As he had been preparing in the public rest room, Howl could not help but wonder what sort of girl had enchanted dear Franz. Franz was such an eccentric person, and his opinions could be a bit strange. What sort of girl would be able to seduce his friend?

After putting on a gray casual suit and changing his plastic jewelry with a gold stud, two dangling teal earrings, and his adorned hair sticks, he still had no clues. Alas, he would have to wait until he met the lovely Miss.

As they walked to the cafe, the long haired lad continued to be supportive, offering the appropriate reassurances of "You look more than okay, my friend." He would laugh politely when he mentioned his connections with the clarinetist. "I know, my dear Franz. You have mentioned this upon many occasions." As they arrived to the cafe, he made certain to reassure his friend one final time with a gentle, yet firm "You will do fine, my friend."  

[candy lamb]

Franz was practically bouncing off the walls: it was only when they actually reached the Corner Cafe itself that he stopped as though faced with some kind of invisible wall. He hesitated, checked in the window once again, and came face to face with his roomie.

He put his hands on Howl's shoulders, hesitated, and then dropped them again. Whatever he had been about to say was, uncharacteristically, left to the ether. "This'll be cool," he assured him, though he said in the same manner to everyone the Polecats are great! and cheerleading is masculine!.

And then, with a sucked-in breath, held the door for Howl so they could go in.

The Corner Cafe was only half-full -- apparently the Meadowview jazz band attracted some clientele at least, so they couldn't have been complete hell on the ears. There were a handful of students -- Howl counted five -- set up in the area reserved for the band, still tuning up.

There were at least two girls; it wasn't apparently obvious which -- if any -- had won Franz's obsessive passion, as it were.  

[cibarium]

One of the five students was flitting purposefully about the stage, checking the acoustics and hooking microphones into amplifiers - carrying themselves in a way that implied they were the band leader. Honestly, from this distance it was difficult to tell their gender. Their hair was done up in a tight braid, and the fact that they wore a tie pushed things slightly in the masculine direction.

The two definitely-girls were helping to put together a drum set: one was nothing short of lovely, with a long wavy spill of wine-red hair, and the other was more petite and graceful looking, her own hair a minty light turquoise tamed into large corkscrews. As soon as they were out of the way the drummer, who was well-muscled and had hair done up in a literal rainbow, immediately started producing a rhythm after a nod from the director. It was slow, relaxing, and propelled the mood of the rehearsal to something less preparatory.

Franz and Howl would have seen a notice on the whiteboard that normally advertised the daily special, written in spiky but very clear handwriting: PLEASE DO NOT ADD YOUR OWN NOISE TO THE REHEARSAL.

The bass and keyboard were the next to set up, the first by the redhead and the second by a male student whose hair was amber and very massive. This left two options as to who was the clarinetist, until a moment later in which the other girl could be seen carefully tuning a violin.  

[candy lamb]

Franz stopped in the doorway, as though transfixed a little. When Howl followed his line of sight, it wasn't at the stunning redhead, nor at the delicate violinist: his gaze was solely for the -- boy? -- who had picked up the clarinet, who was really not unattractive for a boy, albeit sharp-featured. He'd stuck his hands in his pockets, then he'd elbowed Howl a little. (It was really a gender mess-up of a meeting. If the band had looked over at Franz, it looked as though he was accompanied by a very beautiful girl wearing boy's clothes.)

He dragged Howl over to a table somewhere near the back -- apparently he wasn't that into being noticed at this point in time -- and pulled out his chair, still looking over at the band. His point of fixation hadn't wavered. It really was on the boyish clarinetist with the murky purple hair.  

[LizzyMoo]

Walking into the cafe after his friend held the door open for him, Howl made his way towards a table near the back. Once he had seated himself and his companion had joined him, his teal eyes began to wander slightly through the group as well as the area in general. He carefully noted the white board. Apparently applause would be distracting for the musicians.

Speaking of musicians, Howl casually observed the musicians themselves. The girl with the deep red hair had a noticeable amount of aesthetic beauty, and the girl with the pale hair seemed to have more of a "cute" charm. Each girl seemed pleasant enough, but which one had Franz's eye? Howl casually glanced back to his friend, but found no hint to assist him in regards to the females (since he seemed to be looking at a boy).

He did mention that she was a clarinetist, so the one with a clarinet would be the obvious choice.

He continued to watch, and eventually noted the redhead was a bassist. So apparently Franz was into the cutesy type. Howl sighed contently as if he had solved the mystery, but soon enough he saw something which seemed a bit off. The second girl held a violin.

It was just before the show began that he noticed a boy picked up the clarinet. Had it not been for the sign, Howl might have asked Franz about what was going on. Instead, he politely waited for the show to begin.  

[cibarium]

Some parts of the band were starting while others were still setting up. The drummer, wearing a relaxed slacker smile, rattled away at various lines as the director helped the violinist get her strings at their proper pitches. At the other side of the stage the bassist was leaning over her own instrument and had started to speedily pluck at it, her expression a beacon of cheerfulness.

There was no real announcement that they were starting, nobody approached the microphone with a "How's everyone doing tonight." The group just flowed seamlessly from setting up and tuning up to the beginnings of what was looking to be a promising improv session. Judging by how the band members carried themselves, this was the norm, and the fact there was no sheet music anywhere on stage was no reason to be concerned. The whole display was refreshingly organic.

And they all possessed an impressive level of skill, given they were a band comprised of high school students. Several cafe patrons had abandoned their attention on their drinks and politely whispered conversations in favor of watching once the keyboardist fed in a line of his own. Then the violin player eased her way in, with long harmonized strokes that added a cool layer of atmosphere to the punctuated beats and notes below.

At this point the... presumably boy... with the clarinet had his own instrument assembled and ready to play, and was only waiting for just the right moment to jump in.  

[candy lamb]

Franz was transfixed. He was sitting back in his chair with a notoriously dreamy expression on his face, and at this point Howl could only come to the conclusion that, in fact, after all, Franz was gay. This was a little odd, as if Franz had had to be gay with anyone the entire school bet was on Simon Ferris, but he was looking at the boy with the tie and the braid was an expression that could only be admiration mixed a little with "gloop."

He was leaning over to Howl now, whispering so that they didn't interrupt the jazz band as they went through their honestly very good improv, tapping him on the shoulder. "Well?" he was saying. "What do you think?"

Come to think of it, Franz had never used gender pronouns when it came to his unknown beau.  

[LizzyMoo]

This was a curious case, yes it was. Howl couldn't help but look to the band at the apparent lad, then to Franz to make certain he was looking at the clarinetist. And he was.

Despite the music being well played for a practice session, he was unable to give it the true attention it deserved. He was perplexed to say the least. Even with his careful observations, the long haired lad jolted slightly as the tiniest of taps touched upon his shoulder. Goodness, he wanted to know what Howl thought?! Howl didn't even know what Howl thought (oh gosh, and now he was thinking in third person too?!)!

Trying to not let his frantic mental state get the best of him, he whispered back "The music is quite mellow. The group is also doing handsomely." Vague responses, you had to love them on occasion.  

[cibarium]

The object of Franz's transfixion at last started playing, after what for him must have been an ungodly amount of time waiting to see the clarinetist perform live. Needless to say, his level of skill was on par with that of his bandmates, and that was if someone wanted to describe it with some modesty for his sake. He was good. Maybe it was in part because his addition to the music completed the set, but he was definitely painting himself as an essential member of the group.

The rehearsal continued in this vein for quite a while: the sounds of each instrument weaved its way gracefully in and out of melody and harmony, occasionally someone stopped for a moment to work out a hand cramp or steal a sip of water. Solos were traded like a new fad. There was an air of playful competitiveness in this, each contender had their own brand of chemistry with the others, and at one point the melody for the cantina song from Star Wars managed to fall into to place for a number of moments, to a smattering of polite but appreciative applause.

Finally, with an exchange of quick hand gestures, the group finished - and not abruptly, they actually played their way into an ending. At this moment the clarinetist walked towards the front of the stage and, in a voice that was low and muddy but definitely female, asked the crowd a question.

"Before we pack up, does anyone have a request?"  

[candy lamb]

There was barely a second before Franz shuffled back his chair and half-stood at his seat; he was saluting the band (what) crisply, staring right at the (well, it WAS a girl) who had leant over to the appreciative crowd. He got there long before anyone else did.

"Journey, Don't Stop Believin'!"

As Howl watched, he then, in fact, winked to the murky-haired girl with the tie. Winked in what he obviously believed was a cavalier fashion. Winked as though he had practiced this wink in the mirror. It was a little -- well, i twas a little something.  

[LizzyMoo]

Howl continued to watch and listen carefully, his own sights now fixated on the person with the clarinet. His mind was fluttering about asking multitudes of questions which he himself could not answer. Yet, he knew that asking such questions of his friend would be completely and blatantly rude. The elegant lad was anything but rude, so he held all the questions inside himself, bottled up.

By the time the practice was almost over, Howl had been so involved with his own mental battles that he had missed most of the music. The clarinetist came forward, and lo-and-behold, all was made clear. He wanted to let out a relieved sigh, but now might not have been the best of times, with Franz so close by. Apparently the clarinetist had a similar issue to his own. Her voice was that of a female, but her facial structure was very strong and defined, more like that of a man than a woman. He knew how difficult it could be, but he kept his mouth shut. How grateful he was that he had been so vague earlier.

Perhaps now, now that all had been figured out in Howl's mind, he could enjoy their rendition of "Journey, Don't Stop Believin'," as his friend had requested.  

[cibarium]

The instantaneousness of the request came as a bit of a surprise to Janice, but the surprise quickly dissipated when her eyes zeroed in on the person in the back of the room who had made the request. It was Franz. And it looked like there was someone with him. Long hair, soft features... he was with a girl? She'd completely missed the blonde's carefully rendered wink as she further studied the feminine figure sitting at his table. It looked like he'd brought a date with him this evening. Janice found this to be an unfamiliar variety of annoying.

She did, however, have a great love for the stellar bands of the 80's, and quickly turned around to face her group, exchanging whispers with them (except the drummer's version of a whisper sounded like a normal volume of speech with a bad case of strep throat). After a few moments the drums, bass and keyboard started up again, guided by Janice making careful conducting motions with her free hand. Then she placed her clarinet aside. And took up the microphone.

Franz would be pleased to discover that Janice Fitzpatrick sang the way a proper woman should: in a raw, thick, 80's styled power alto.  

[candy lamb]

In fact, he watched the entire opening chordage with his chin cupped in one hand with an expression that Howl could only classify as "thunderstruck." Unfortunately for Janice, he also leant back and whispered at the girl who was accompanying him, moving in close so that his voice wouldn't carry, which could only be classified from where she was standing as "more unfamiliarly annoying."

In fact, from where Howl was sitting, Franz drew in so many breaths that he sounded like a suck'n'vac. He looked at Janice as though she were the only thing in the room worth looking at at all, the rest of the band disappearing into background noise and background trash. This was unfair, because the bassist really was one hell of a musician, and the drummer was kind of "insane."

Franz looked twitterpated.

When the last note died out, he blew a piercing whistle that sounded like a train coming down from the line, and was the first one to start clapping. He looked as though he were half ready to give them a standing ovation.  

[LizzyMoo]

Hoping to be much more polite than for the previous portion of the practice session, Howl made certain to listen carefully to all the music. He had only been mildly educated with specific qualities of music, and much of that had dwindled off with his years avoiding the formal subject of music. All he could really pull from the performance was it sounded like it should have, complete with authentic 80's style singing.

As the performance ended, Howl politely applauded the band's efforts. However, such had probably been drowned out by his companion's whistling and eccentric mannerisms.