OOC Notes
Inadvertently Vivian locked eyes with her counterpart in Nerveshock--the guitarist and singer known to the public only as 'Harlyn'. The older woman's smirk widened maliciously as her eyes narrowed on Nerveshock's frontman. It was kind of a known fact that Vivian Nakani-Maisuradze and Harlyn weren't too fond of one another. And Vivian could remember exactly when it'd started--when Harlyn had the gall to laugh scornfully at mention of Legion, and then speak disparagingly of the band Vivian had devoted so much of herself to. It was the spark--the ignition came when Vivian, face to face with the woman, called her out on it and then the next thing anyone knew it descended into a fistfight. Ever since then, they'd clashed at every point. Their vocal styles, what with Harlyn's clean, smoother vocals and occasional use of screams in contrast to Vivian's animalistic growl, their appearances, the music they played--Vivian loathed metalcore and nu metal, so it could probably be guessed what she'd think of the singer of a band that played both, and as for what Harlyn thought of Legion...well, suffice to say, death metal was a type of music even most metal fans at large found too brutal for their tastes. Vivian even took it as a point of pride to use against Harlyn that Legion's fans were so much more...alive. So, setting aside the fact that Vivian hadn't really met or interacted with the rest of Nerveshock...
"Shit, guess I'll just have to get an early start tomorrow," Rick's voice drifted by to occupy the silence that had existed momentarily as Vivian glared down at Harlyn with a smirk that could best be described as predatory in nature. "Right, Viv? Early start?" At the mention of her name, Vivian turned her head back towards Rick, and the smile shifted somewhat. "'course."
Lovely, Lenchi mused silently, having remained more or less silent this whole time while he watched Vivian glaring daggers at the blonde chick sitting with Nerveshock. A thought directed both at the 'early start' and at the whole 'glaring daggers at the blonde chick sitting with Nerveshock'. Not that Lenchi could bring himself to intervene (if only because Rick was more effective at keeping Vivian in line and she'd probably just laugh and beat the crap outta Lenchi if he tried) but he wouldn't have put it past Vivian to already be working at putting things to a bad start between Legion and Nerveshock. He could mediate if things got heated--his amiable, completely carefree attitude had to be good for something--but the dubious honour of keeping hold of Vivian fell to Rick. Sure, today was the first time the two big names in contemporary metal were coming face to face, but that didn't mean they had to collide fists swinging and hating on one another. He figured it was wishful thinking to hope Vivian had sense enough to consider that, but if anything, at least Rick was present.
"Wilford H. Brimley, there's a zombie sittin' at the bar," Rick deadpanned, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Vivian, who assumed the statement, referencing something unknown to Vivian, was probably in regards to the bassist of Nerveshock. Who was, to say the least, fucking scary thin, just judging at the spindly arms sticking out of the sockets of his shirt and the way the fabric hung so loosely on his frame. Vivian's eyes turned from him to the other members of Nerveshock--well, the poster, being all dark and decorated, didn't afford much of a good look at the 'competition', so to speak, so she figured she'd get one now. She'd already seen the guitarist when he'd sat down next to her earlier, and obviously she already knew what Harlyn looked like, but the drummer intrigued her. The dark-haired woman's upper body, what could be seen of it, was covered in a patchwork of tattoos--much like Vivian herself, though the leather jacket obscured all but the ones on her hands and those few that crawled up her collarbone and throat to peek out from the collar of the jacket.
"Oi, skin and bones," Rick followed up his earlier statement in typical fashion. "Sorry 'bout the zombie thing. Pint of Guinness to make up for it?"
And from there it seemed the bands were about to start...what was the phrase. Getting acquainted. Vivian snorted slightly, unable to help herself. That was just bound to end well.
"Now that I have fucking recognised you guys," the guitarist of Nerveshock offered up, standing from his seat. "Would you do us the honour of drinking with us?" He seemed to be avoiding Vivian, who, also in typical fashion, shot right ahead and said the first thing that came to mind. "Sure, if you think you can keep up with our pace," she smirked, a bit too confident than was necessary for the situation in her and Rick's alcohol capacity. Lenchi wanted to groan. Out came the passive aggressive. Of course. But hey, as long as she didn't decide to take the 'passive' out of that equation...
She then proceeded to take the 'passive' out of that equation.
"I know Harlyn won't..." Vivian seemed to direct the spiteful energy straight for her counterpart and rival in the opposite group, turning her glare on Harlyn. "Since last time I came across you in a bar, you had the constitution of a blind mole. Not to mention the guitar skills of one too." Well, she wasn't about to spontaneously become nice just because Harlyn's band was present this time.
"Hey now." Lenchi finally decided it was time he acted as mediator. He stood from his seat, walking up towards where Vivian and the other singer were standing parallel to one another. "I don't know what qualms you two have got with each other, but I don't believe it prudent for us to get off on a bad start here. Here, how about I pay for the first collective round..." Reaching down for his wallet (and finding, miraculously, that he actually had it with him for once...if only because he realised he'd been too lazy to remove it after arriving), the bassist glanced back at Rick, hoping the guitarist would keep Vivian in check.
"Shit, guess I'll just have to get an early start tomorrow," Rick's voice drifted by to occupy the silence that had existed momentarily as Vivian glared down at Harlyn with a smirk that could best be described as predatory in nature. "Right, Viv? Early start?" At the mention of her name, Vivian turned her head back towards Rick, and the smile shifted somewhat. "'course."
Lovely, Lenchi mused silently, having remained more or less silent this whole time while he watched Vivian glaring daggers at the blonde chick sitting with Nerveshock. A thought directed both at the 'early start' and at the whole 'glaring daggers at the blonde chick sitting with Nerveshock'. Not that Lenchi could bring himself to intervene (if only because Rick was more effective at keeping Vivian in line and she'd probably just laugh and beat the crap outta Lenchi if he tried) but he wouldn't have put it past Vivian to already be working at putting things to a bad start between Legion and Nerveshock. He could mediate if things got heated--his amiable, completely carefree attitude had to be good for something--but the dubious honour of keeping hold of Vivian fell to Rick. Sure, today was the first time the two big names in contemporary metal were coming face to face, but that didn't mean they had to collide fists swinging and hating on one another. He figured it was wishful thinking to hope Vivian had sense enough to consider that, but if anything, at least Rick was present.
"Wilford H. Brimley, there's a zombie sittin' at the bar," Rick deadpanned, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Vivian, who assumed the statement, referencing something unknown to Vivian, was probably in regards to the bassist of Nerveshock. Who was, to say the least, fucking scary thin, just judging at the spindly arms sticking out of the sockets of his shirt and the way the fabric hung so loosely on his frame. Vivian's eyes turned from him to the other members of Nerveshock--well, the poster, being all dark and decorated, didn't afford much of a good look at the 'competition', so to speak, so she figured she'd get one now. She'd already seen the guitarist when he'd sat down next to her earlier, and obviously she already knew what Harlyn looked like, but the drummer intrigued her. The dark-haired woman's upper body, what could be seen of it, was covered in a patchwork of tattoos--much like Vivian herself, though the leather jacket obscured all but the ones on her hands and those few that crawled up her collarbone and throat to peek out from the collar of the jacket.
"Oi, skin and bones," Rick followed up his earlier statement in typical fashion. "Sorry 'bout the zombie thing. Pint of Guinness to make up for it?"
And from there it seemed the bands were about to start...what was the phrase. Getting acquainted. Vivian snorted slightly, unable to help herself. That was just bound to end well.
"Now that I have fucking recognised you guys," the guitarist of Nerveshock offered up, standing from his seat. "Would you do us the honour of drinking with us?" He seemed to be avoiding Vivian, who, also in typical fashion, shot right ahead and said the first thing that came to mind. "Sure, if you think you can keep up with our pace," she smirked, a bit too confident than was necessary for the situation in her and Rick's alcohol capacity. Lenchi wanted to groan. Out came the passive aggressive. Of course. But hey, as long as she didn't decide to take the 'passive' out of that equation...
She then proceeded to take the 'passive' out of that equation.
"I know Harlyn won't..." Vivian seemed to direct the spiteful energy straight for her counterpart and rival in the opposite group, turning her glare on Harlyn. "Since last time I came across you in a bar, you had the constitution of a blind mole. Not to mention the guitar skills of one too." Well, she wasn't about to spontaneously become nice just because Harlyn's band was present this time.
"Hey now." Lenchi finally decided it was time he acted as mediator. He stood from his seat, walking up towards where Vivian and the other singer were standing parallel to one another. "I don't know what qualms you two have got with each other, but I don't believe it prudent for us to get off on a bad start here. Here, how about I pay for the first collective round..." Reaching down for his wallet (and finding, miraculously, that he actually had it with him for once...if only because he realised he'd been too lazy to remove it after arriving), the bassist glanced back at Rick, hoping the guitarist would keep Vivian in check.






