To his great relief, Ted informed them that he could sing. Charlotte probably knew that already, but Victor didn't. At least that meant they could have some vocals when they rehearsed. Still, Bey leaving had struck a great blow to Cor Leonis. I show and want to join and someone fucking leaves... It was impossible for the bassist not to feel bad about that. He hoped that he didn't bring bad luck to the band. It would be a shame if they had to make do with some studio musicians if they had to record something. In his experience, it had always worked better when it was the band - the full band - that went into the studio. They played together so they should go to the studio together. It always differed to much in sound when something was recorded with a person that wasn't a regular part of the band.

Okay, something's going on here... The thought struck him as Ted looked at his drummer. Some sort of non-verbal conversation was going on there. Charlotte nodded, they both turned to him and Victor tilted his head, looking worried. When Ted opened his mouth and spoke, he smiled though. This was what he had hoped for when he'd gotten the crazy idea to actually show up. Victor smiled at the two of them at first. Then his face turned serious. "If this is some bad joke, then fuck you Ted." The Irishman said and pointed at the Cor Leonis guitarist and now singer. It still hadn't really sunk in though, that he was a part of the band now. It would take some getting used to.

Before another thought could enter his mind, Charlotte welcomed him as well. A nod and a smile was what he gave in respons. Victor was kind of at a loss for words. What did you say to that? 'Thanks?' For one, if he said it, he'd probably sound a little too excited. Secondly, Victor had a problem with saying Thank you. Next thing he knew, Charlotte was headed towards him. It wasn't until she was pretty close that Victor realized what she was going to do. Oh boy she's going to regret that. But she said nothing, though the hug was pretty short. She made it obvious that she meant it though. That was all that mattered to Victor. "Hmm?" And now he had to think up another lie. "Oh, uh..." His eyes went from Charlotte to Ted and back again quickly. "Not really. Not.... In town." Well.. That was easy to see through, but it was the best he could do.

Four days later

Beep, beep boop boop, boop beep beep, boop beep boop boop

"Hello?"

"Hi, am I speaking to John McCarthy?"

"...Yeah. Who's this?"

"This is Ted Marubini. I used to play guitar for Workingman Studio, starting in 2001 until about...'09?"

"Ted? Didn't you run of to play death metal?"

"That's the long and short of it, yes. Look, Jack, I've got a favor to ask. I've started my own group now, and-"

"That shitty Cor Leonis deal? Y'know Rolling Stone hated you guys, right?"

"Yes. Look, we just lost our other guitarist, and-"

"You want me?"

"I need someone. And besides, we're looking at other influ-"

"Go fuck yourself, Ted."

Click

Outside the Studio With No Name, Ted stared at his phone. He wasn't sure what was more astonishing, that so many people from Nashville still remembered him or that none of them wanted anything to do with him. He supposed that most Nashville session musicians didn't have any interest in metal, but they could at least be nicer about it.

He checked his watch again. 8:30 PM. Charlotte and Victor would probably be showing up soon, and what would he have to show for it? Jack. Shit.

"Damn it all," he muttered to himself before heading inside.

He and Izzie had worked out an uneasy truce in regards to using the studio. Personal enmity aside, they both had albums to record, and they had decided to alternate in the studio. Ted got a key and permissions to use the studio with Cor Leonis from 8:30 PM to 2:30 AM, and Izzie promised not to harass his bandmates. In exchange, Psychosis got the studio during the day (Ted couldn't remember exactly what time frame), and Ted refused to report the events of 26 August, 2006.

Good deal.

Inside, Ted sat in a chair near the door, the better to hear anyone come knocking, and put his headphones on, scrolling through the albums on his music player. One name suddenly stuck out to him.

Mahavishnu Orchestra. Legendary fusion-jazz group. John McLaughlin was one of Ted's very favorite guitarists. He hadn't listened to it in a while. He put on the first album, and listened for a while. He loved the melodic interplay McLaughlin had with the other player, and the other player's sense of melody. It didn't even sound like a guitar, it sounded like….

A violin.

Just like that, a name came to Ted, and he fumbled over himself realizing the potential. He wasted no time pulling his phone out again and finding an old name in his contact list. Hopefully he wasn't busy busking.

Beep, beep hoop hoop, beep beep beep, beep boop boop boop

"Y'ello?" The drawl was instantly familiar.

"Eric?"

"Ted? I haven't seen you in ages, man!"

"I know! Listen, I've got a bit of a problem, and I think you can help me."

"Awright, shoot."

"I've got my own band right now, but the other guitarist quit a few days go. I haven't been able to find a replacement, but I had a different idea."

"Don't tell me. You want me to fly out there and play with you guys."

"Just on a trial basis. We'll pay you for your time and everything."

"Yer a lucky man, Ted Marubini. As it turns out, I'm both willin' an' able to come out! I'll get a flight tonight. Bee-Dubya-Eye, right?"

"Right. Text or email the flight details once you get them. I'll getcha at the airport."

"Sure thing."

"Thanks, Eric."

"No trouble. Bye."

Click

Outside the Studio With No Name, Ted stared at his phone. "That…went well."

"What went well?" Charlotte asked, curiously, upon nearing the studio and finding her frontman Ted staring at his phone. She tilted her head as she studied his facial expression, hoping that hadn't been a sarcastic comment. He didn't look sarcastic...surprised maybe, but not sarcastic. If they had any luck, the frontman had found someone to fill in for Bey and they could have a full group again which would be nice. They had been extremely fortunate in Victor dropping in when he did so then it wouldn't just be the two of them. Speaking of which, she wondered how he was doing, she hadn't heard anything from the bassist since he'd taken the cash she'd given him. Charlotte smiled at Ted and dropped the keys to her corvette in her bag. She didn't know if what Ted had said he wanted to exactly share or if it was any of her business but she was nosy - and was going to ask him anyways. "Any update on the guitarist matter?" The blonde asked him hopefully, however she was a little afraid he was going to say no. She crossed her arms over her pastel blue top, as usual dressed to perfection even if she was just going to the studio (There was simply no excuse to look...sloppy). Normally Charlotte would be all over trying to find someone to help fill in for Cor Leonis, but as of right now she had no one willing play in a power metal band - all the guys she knew were already working on their own projects, most of which didn't want to take on extra work or simply just wanted to play more heavy styles of metal. So she had nothing, unfortunately.




Craig flipped through channel after channel on his TV. There was nothing of any interest on tonight and the young guitarist was getting bored fast. The cooking channel? Really? This night is going to suck. He thought, watching a chef grill some meat with great enthusiasm, so much so that Craig thought for a minute that if his room mate walked by he might actually think he was watching porn in the living room. Fuck it, he needed something to do. But what to do was the question. Play? Nah, he already did that earlier. Go drinking? That was the logical response in these situations...But alone? That wasn't a problem, he'd done it before and sometimes got lucky which was always nice. But tonight, he thought it'd be nice to have some company. He had suggested going out for drinks with Edei the other day, which could be a nice evening. He just wanted to spend time with her really and that was a good excuse. He should invite Cormac too, he thought, however on the other hand he knew he might have to haul the drummer out of the club or break up a fight... That was normal, so he supposed it'd probably be no big deal as he fished out his phone and started scrolling through his contacts hoping that he'd gotten her number from Izzie, which thankfully he had.

Hey, Edei. It's Craig. Just wondering if you might want to go hang out tonight and have a few drinks, if you don't have anything going on. He sent a nearly identical text to Cormac as well and then leaned back and waited for the responses, uncertain as to if he should invite Izzie or not.

Going home and hanging out at her rather modest apartment after band practice hadn’t seemed like a fun idea. So instead, as soon as Psychosis dragged their asses out of the studio she had gone home long enough to shower and change into a tanktop and jeans before popping right back out of the door again.

But where to?She thought to herself, chewing on her lip as she strolled out to the sidewalk, letting the road stretch beside of her in either direction whiles she sorted out her choices for the evening.

She was hungry and Z’s didn’t exactly serve... Well, food. They were more of the peanuts and pretzels kind of dive bar that seemed surprised when you asked if they had anything of substance somewhere hidden in the back and though she knew Z well enough to waltz through his apartment on the way to grab liquor, she didn’t know him well enough to head upstairs and make herself a nice sandwich from his own fridge.

Hrmmm…

Her head swiveled to the north, squinting in the direction as if trying to recall other places worthy of wasting time. Tricksters? No, too redneck. Arooga’s? Gah. Hell no! That was a sports bar… And a crappy one at that. Turning to face south, she adopted the same countenance as she pondered her options. She wanted something within walking distance so….

O’Lordan’s! A rowdy Irish joint with tons of space, a menu full of pub grub and over 100 different choices of whiskey. Dimly lit for ambience and even though smoking was no longer allowed it still somehow maintained a smoky haze throughout. Always packed, there was usually room for people at the huge U-shaped bar in the center if they couldn’t find a table or booth somewhere else. What girl could say no to dinner at a place like that?!

---

By the time Craig’s text caused her phone to violently blare out her ring tone, she was sitting at that same U-shaped bar tucking into fish and chips while gesturing like an Italian while she told some fellow drinkers about the time that she thought it would be a great idea to show people how small she was by trying to slip through the bars of one of the cages at the local zoo. She had to wipe the inevitable grease from her fingers to grab her cell and text back, "Way ahead of you in the drink dept. I’m at O’Lordan’s down on 5th. Come on down!"

Then, since she didn't know whether or not Craig had texted the other bandmates, she took a picture of the liquor-lined wall behind the bar and sent the pic to both Izzie and Cormy along with the words, "Drinks? O'Lordans.". Short enough so that if Izzie wasn't in the mood to come out drinking, she wouldn't be pissed enough by the text that she would come down to the pub simply to vivisect Edei but the text was long enough so that at least Iz knew that she was invited. Edei had a sneaking suspicion that Izzie didn't hang out with too many people and goddammit if Edei was going to let the lead singer be a recluse! Well, unless she really wanted to be a recluse. The cards weren't really stacked in Edei's favor but she would keep on trying.

With those texts sent, she slipped the phone back into her pocket and downed the rest of her whiskey, pushing it towards the bartender with a grin. “Might want to start a tab, then. Looks like I’ll be here longer than I thought.”

When Craig received Edei's response he smiled down at his phone and typed up a quick message in reply. Be there in five. He pressed send, grateful he lived within walking distance from a good bar. It always came in handy in situations like this, when he either didn't know what to do or someone invited him over there for drinks. He dragged himself up off the couch, deciding he needed to at least put a shirt on and make himself somewhat presentable. He walked into his bedroom, digging through the piles of clothing for a clean shirt to wear since the minute he'd gotten home he'd tossed the one from practice onto his floor (probably to never be seen again). He finally found a black wife beater and pulled it on hastily. He called it good enough as he brushed his fingers through his hair and grabbed his keys and wallet off his bedside table, stuffing them into his pockets. He made his way over to the door and called to his roommate that he'd be back later to which his roommate replied with a simple, 'kay from his bedroom. The young guitarist shrugged and then stepped out into the hall, making his way down to O'Lordan's.


By the time Craig reached the bar it was almost exactly five minutes and there still wasn't a response from Cormac. He wasn't sure if that meant the drummer was asleep (although he didn't know how with that loudass ringtone he had) or he just didn't care to join them. Oh well, that would just mean he'd get to spend time with Edei himself which wasn't exactly something he'd complain about since he hadn't gotten the chance to do so before. He also wondered what Izzie was going to be doing tonight, however he was willing to bet if he asked her what she was up to that she'd promptly tell him to fuck off, even if he mentioned he was going to the bar. So, he decided to not bother texting her.

The joint was packed as usual and the guitarist dodged between the chatting and drinking people who were moving between tables, some already looking wasted to his surprise, so early on in the night. He considered texting Edei to find out where she was - probably around the bar if he had to guess, but if not, he figured could get himself a beer there anyway and then text her if she didn't turn up. As he neared the large u-shaped bar of O'Lordan's, however, Craig immediately caught sight of the bassist. Edei looked lovely as ever, talking animatedly to a few others around her. He took a seat to her left. "Hey." He said to her with a warm smile, resting his tattooed arms on the bar and then immediately ordering himself a beer.

Although he'd been given some money, the Irishman had chosen the cheapest hotel he could find. It had only been very reluctantly when Charlotte gave him the money, that Victor had accepted them. And it still nagged at him. Whether or not he could repay her, he didn't know. It had been a very kind (and unexpected) thing to do. Something he appreciated very very much. "Whoops, better get going." The time on his watch reminded him that he should get going. On the down side, the hotel was shitty and the room was small. And the walls were thin. Too thin. On the other hand, it had a bed and a pillow and it was a short walk to the studio. With a shrug and a sigh, he headed out his door and downstairs.

Concentrating was becoming harder and harder. Dealing with the drug addiction was harder than he had thought. Back when he had announced that he didn't want to take drugs anymore, he had gradually stopped it. Still, it was hard as hell. The only thing that helped a little bit was having something to do all the time. Reading, running, playing, talking, drinking. It didn't matter, as long as it occupied his thoughts. That was also why he - in case of emergency - had a small bag of white powder in his jacket. It was so easy to just reach in and take it, but Victor had managed not to. And that was something he was proud of.
Slow steps and a cigarette hanging from his lips, Victor neared the studio. There he spotted Charlotte and Ted outside, wondering why Ted looked kind of surprised. Or what does that look mean? He might be good at reading people, but he had a hard time with Ted.

"Hi!" A wave and a smile. Victor stopped as he got to the two of them, looking from on to the other. Smoke came out from his nostrils as he exhaled. "You look like you either just recieved really good news, or really bad news." He chuckled and shrugged, wondering what it was that made Ted look like that. There was a small shimmer of hope that he had found someone to replace Bey, but he dared not bet his money on it.

Edei quite possibly looked a bit crazy each time that her phone blared its ring tone, signaling a new text and her painted lips would tilt into a lazy half-grin at whatever reply she was reading. Craig and Cormy were both actually coming down to hang out and she held out just the faintest sliver of hope for Izzy to join in as well but the next incoming text had her laughing. It was a short, sudden burst of laughter that caused the corner of her eyes to crinkle as she shot off a response to the lead singer/band leader/dictator extraordinaire.

”I can’t fuck off and die. I must complete my life’s goal of seeing you outside of the studio, one day!” She was going to finish it with the text-friendly less than three heart but decided that adding that little symbol might be crossing the line with Izzie.

So, she had to wait either 5 minutes or a ‘jiff’, whichever was the shorter length of time, and she stuffed her cellphone back into the pocket of her jeans whilst she passed the time. She just happened to be winding down another story when Craig slipped onto the stool beside her and she promptly abandoned her story and spun around so that she was angled towards the guitarist instead.

“Great minds think alike!” Her hand wrapped around her whiskey glass and she kicked back the rest of her Connemara before pushing the empty back towards the bartender for a refill. He had the bottle at the ready and poured her a double before uncapping a beer for Craig and sliding it his way before retreating to the next customer.

She hadn’t been aware that Craig had texted Cormy as well, so she decided to divulge the fact that they were being joined by the drummer as well. The more the merrier, right?! “Cormy’s going to join us too.” Her eyes slipped casually over the guitarist as another good-natured grin curved her lips. “Izzie, sadly, had a previous engagement and though she extends her regrets for not being able to attend our soiree she does hope to come to our next outing.”

She had to drag her lower lip between her teeth and bite down hard to keep from laughing out loud though even without the amusement dancing in her eyes she knew Craig would be able to call her on her bullshit.

There was, needless to say, much strenuous disagreement in the scientific community concerning the precise measurement of a 'jiff'. Cormy had heard it said that it was about as long as a moment-- others had theorised it was somewhere between 'soon' and 'in a bit'. Given his evident inclination for the term, he'd once put the question to Izzie, who explained that a jiff had various different meanings-- in electronics, for example, a jiff was a technical term referring to the time between alternating current power cycles, generally taken to be approximately 1/60th of a second in most mains power systems. In computing, the term referred to the duration of one tick of the system timer interrupt, which was generally in the range of one millisecond to ten milliseconds. And in physics, it was used to measure the time it takes for light to travel one fermi, a distance of approximately ten to the negative fifteen-- thereby providing the time of a 'jiff' as about 0.000000000000000000000003 seconds.

Unfortunately, Cormac hadn't been hitting the treadmill lately and had never exactly been the best runner in his high school PE class, so maybe he'd been exaggerating a bit when he'd said he'd be there in a jiff. And indeed, when he at last came struttin' on into the little Irish establishment and began scanning the horse-shoe shaped bar for a familiar face, many jiffs had come to pass. "Ah, but the night is young!" Cormy reminded himself theatrically with a flourish, attracting the baffled stares of many bar-goers in the vicinity before his eyes fell upon two familiar figures at the bar-- a slender young lady sitting beside Hercules with a shaved head. Izzie was nowhere to be seen, but that was about par for the course, seeing as there were no broken pieces of furniture or blood stains or police in the vicinity.

"Sorry it took me so long," he announced his presence as he plopped himself down in the seat to Edei's right. "Took me like... five thousand billion jiffs to get here. If you're a physicist, anyway." Then, with no further explanation, he turned around towards the bar, and animatedly declared, "Bartender! A glass of your finest Irish whiskey, if you please!"

The bartender, having just set down a drink for Craig, glared at Cormy like he would have liked nothing more than to beat him over the head with the filthy glass he had taken to wiping at with a filthier rag.

"... I dunno, just get me like a Jameson or some shit," the drummer threw back with an unaffected shrug before turning towards Edei and Craig. "I tell ya, I'd just hit the hay when ya texted me. Damn near gave me a stroke. Thought it was Izzie pocket-dialin' me again. I really gotta change the ringtone on my phone." And then, as the bartender set down a glass of the aforementioned 'Jameson or some shit' in front of Cormy, all thought of changing his ringtone vanished about as rapidly as his sobriety after naught but a drop of liquor.

Craig's lips tilted up into a smile when the bassist broke off from her story and turned to face him. "Indeed." He said. He hadn't caught much of it, but what he had made him a bit curious as to what it had been about. He called a 'thanks man' to the bartender who slid his beer over to him before he took a healthy sip of it, listening quietly as he was informed that Cormac would be joining them as well, since apparently he'd given a response to Edei and not him, which didn't really come as a surprise. Oh, well. There went the plan of just spending some time with Edei himself but he didn't really mind, he'd given Cormac the invitation to join them as well and it could be nice to hang out with the both of them outside of the studio. "Oh, really? Good. I'd invited him earlier, but I didn't get a response so I figured he was probably asleep and not coming." He said, shrugging and then going to take another sip of his excellent beer before pausing, his glass halfway to his lips when Edei continued, saying she'd invited Izzie as well who had declined. He arched a brow at her, clearly skeptical. Never in his whole life had he heard Izzie Martinez apologize for not being able to attend a social gathering. Edei seemed to be trying to hide her amusement at something - at what, he had a pretty good idea. "I'm sure she was most sincere." He said, a touch of sarcasm finding it's way into his voice. He had a feeling he knew what the singer actually had actually said, since he'd gotten something similar from the few times he'd invited her to try and get to know the band better. "She told you to fuck off and die in a fire, right?" He asked, smirking slightly as he looked at the dark haired bassist expectantly.


The young guitarist turned, his eyes falling on Cormac who'd just placed himself to Edei's right. "Hey, man." He said, offering the drummer a slight smile before taking a sip of his beer and watching as the bartender shot the enthusiastic Cormac a look of true disdain since he'd finally had a break from the constant coming and going customers at the large horseshoe shaped bar. Craig smirked a little at what Cormac said. He was starting to doubt that Izzie was actually pocket-dialing him and beginning to believe it was more like her purposely trying to give the drummer a heartattack. "Your damn ringtone almost gives me a heartattack. You should really change it before it kills ones of us." He told the drummer, however he was starting to think having a phone with that ringtone could be rather fun to have lying around the studio since it could be rather amusing to see who jumps out of their skin first.

Ted loked up at Charlotte. He hadn't expected to see her so soon after the lucky call. He tossed his phone in the air, caught it, and grinned as he pocketed it. "You...might say that. I about ran out of guitarist friends today. They all hate my guts ever since I tried teaming up with Izzie." He shrugged. "But! I just got off the phone with an old friend of mine, named Eric, Eric Morley. I helped him get a job at the studio way back when, and we've been friends since then. He plays fiddle on pretty much three-quarters of the Nashville stuff, and he does busking on his own too. Great guy, great player. He's flying out here tonight to try and join us. Just on a trial basis, nothing too committed. I think it could work, though."

Of course, just as he finished explaining, Victor showed up, asking about the same thing. Ted sighed, suppressed a bit of laughter at his luck, then turned to Victor. "Evening, Victor. I just got off the phone with an Eric Morley. He's going to be flying out here to play violin with us. I figure at this point we might as well go with what we can, and nobody who plays guitar wants anything to do with Ted Marubini. It's ridiculous. But anyway, it's good news. Very good. Going to go all Mahavishnu on this shit." He grinned again and rubbed his hands together in a mockery of every world-conquering villain ever. Yes, Ted, putting jazz into metal is going to take over the world.

If that were the case, Paul Masvidal would be president of the universe...

Whatever. Stay in the now.

Ted's expression shifted from surprised, to cheerful and Charlotte felt a blossom of hope. Maybe something really good had happened - perhaps Bey was coming back or maybe he'd found someone else to fill in for her that was just as good, if not better. That could be very likely as well.

Apparently he'd finally found someone named Eric Morley after running out of local guitarists to call which puzzled her slightly. It also surprised her that that that many people wanted nothing to do with Ted, but she made herself focus on the positives. Were they hiring him out of state, or...? She was pretty sure he confusion was evident on her face. Wait. Did Ted just say fiddle? Her blonde brows rose nearly up to her hairline. "Um, fiddle, Ted?" She asked him, her voice full of surprise and skepticism. They were replacing a guitarist with a...Fiddler? Was Ted planning on making this a country outfit or something now? She wasn't necessarily adverse to the idea of using violin in their sound but it may or may not be such a good idea. Charlotte had no experience working with such things - well, except for when she was about eight and her mother wanted her to try to play violin - which had resulted in a single practice session back home which had left everyone within earshot with bleeding ears. Sure, it was only on a trial bassist but Charlotte wasn't entirely convinced this was the best move. She was going to take Ted's word that this Eric guy was good, she knew he wouldn't put the band in jeopardy. Ted was too smart for that. She supposed it could work, just because she hadn't done anything like that before didn't mean anything. Others had done similar things and it had worked well now that she really thought about it - and besides, it wasn't her band. "If you're sure, Ted." She told him, most of her skepticism leaving her voice and face. "But how -" She broke off, about to ask him how he was planning on incorporating this Eric guy into their sound when their new bassist came walking up to him.


"Hey." She said, smiling at the bassist. He looked a lot better now that he was cleaned up, Charlotte thought. She was glad he had taken the money, he had obviously needed the money and she didn't care whether or not he would repay her or not - the couple hundreds she had given him were practically pocket change to her so she didn't miss it. Besides, there was no reason to live like a barbarian in those dirty clothes he had been wearing. "It was good news, actually." Charlotte told him, however she was going to leave the rest to Ted.

Charlotte wondered what Victor was going to think of incorporating violin into their sound, if he was game for it maybe she was just stuck in her ways a little too much as far as metal went and needed to broaden her horizons a little more than she had intended to. Ted looked so happy and excited to add this new guy to the lineup so Charlotte decided that she wasn't going to complain or doubt him. He knew what he was doing and was clearly looking forward to this.

She moved a little closer to Victor then. "You look much better. While the sort of...Grunge look is good on you, you're really much cuter when you're clean." She told him with a grin, pinching his cheek. "I trust you've been putting that money to good use?" She asked him, putting her hands on her hips.

As drinks were settled all around, Edei made a gesture to the bartender as she grinned. “Put these two on my tab, Trent. Ok?” Then from further to the right, one of the people she had been telling stories too earlier piped up, “Hey! Put me on your tab too, sweet cheeks!” Laughing good naturedly, Edei leaned back enough so reply, “Sorry, buddy. I like these two. You’re still…” Her hand shot out, seesawing back and forth as if she was unsure about her opinion on the guy. “Questionable.”

Another grin flashed over her lips as she settled back between her two bandmates, pushing her stool back ever so slightly so that the three of them could look at each other without either Edei constantly swiveling her head and without the boys having to look over her when they addressed one another.

Kicking back another sip of her whiskey, she reached out, clinking her glass against Cormy’s ‘Jameson-or-some-shit before twisting and doing the same with Craig’s beer. Only then did she finally respond to his earlier question, ” "She told you to fuck off and die in a fire, right?"”

“And no, no, no…” Shaking her head emphatically, Edei bit her lower lip to hide her grin. “She told me to fuck off and die in a hole. I’ve moved up from the fire threats… Or is that down?” A quick tilt of her head showed she was considering the two options whilst comparing them to one another. “Yep… I think this one is better. I would rather not be on fire so fucking off and dying in a hole is preferable.”

Edei hooked her feet around the back legs of her stool so that she wouldn’t be constantly swinging her legs back and forth and she cast a look at each guy with her brow arched slightly skyward. “And what ringtone is this and what are we changing it to? It can’t be as bad as the defaults even if it does give you a heart attack.”

She was going to add something else to the topic at hand but she didn’t exactly want to talk about ringtones and cell phones all night so instead she switched subjects like a person with attention span issues.

“So I take it Izzie doesn’t hang out much outside of work but you guys aren’t exactly bro-fisting either so does that mean no one in this band has simply…hung out before? You guys have had to have been through more reincarnations of the line up than I have.” That was a given, considering she was the newest member though she couldn’t quite recall how long either of the other guys had been with Psychosis. She just knew Izzie had been with it for forever, Cormy… Had he been with them since its inception? And Craig was newer but even he had been through at least one other band member- whoever the bassist was before her.

"Hey, man," Craig greeted Cormac, and the (could have been, if his great-grandfolks had waited a little while before moving to the New World) Irishman moved to strike an impressive salute to his bandmate, which didn't work out too well considering he was simultaneously attempting to down a healthy swig of his booze. "Shit," he muttered in a vague slur, as though the very presence of alcohol was already enough to inebriate him, as he slopped Jameson or some shit down his shirt. "Well, fuck it," he decided with a shrug. "I'm a crust punk, I'm pretty much obligated to be wearing some kind of alcohol anyway."

The subject of conversation, at that point, appeared to be Cormac's ringtone, which was always a deeply moving and profound topic to discuss, of course. Granted, the ultra-loud rendition of 'You Suffer' was only his text message alert-- it was well suited to such a role, being about a half a second in length. Depending on who called, the ringtone would vary-- whenever Izzie called, he was serenaded with Swans' 'Big Strong Boss', which he figured was as accurate a song title for Izzie as you could ask for. The ringtone for Craig was set to Napalm Death's 'Musclehead', which he meant with no resentment whatsoever (no, really), and whenever Edei called (ha, as if), he was treated to a rendition of Death's 'Evil Dead' (what, you were expecting the title to have something to do with Edei or something like that? Why would you get that idea?). He didn't get called a whole lot, though, and these days it was all about the fuckin' textin'. So mostly, he heard a lot of 'You Suffer'.

"Your damn ringtone almost gives me a heart attack," Craig inputted on the subject with a smile. "You should really change it before it kills one of us."

"What ringtone is this and what are we changing it to?" Edei added, jumping on the 'let's all confer on the mysterious and truly engaging subject of Cormac McMurphy's cell phone text alert' bandwagon. "It can’t be as bad as the defaults even if it does give you a heart attack."

"Well, I keep tellin' myself I'm gonna change it," Cormy remarked with a shrug, taking a generous gulp of his Jameson or some shit before adding, "But I keep forgetting. Y'know how sometimes you totally forget the thing you just thought about?" He paused, a glaze coming over his eyes as if coming to realisation, before he noted, "... do normal people generally have that happen repeatedly about the same thing, or is that like a medical condition of some kind?" Cormy was pretty sure he didn't have a mental condition-- but then again, the only people he'd ever known were either very sane, his family, Craig, the like, or loony bin escapees like the sorts he'd come across back when he'd been squatting and the sort he now found himself in the employ of-- hell, even Edei gave off that vibe half the time. He didn't exactly have much of a frame of reference here. Well, fuck it, y'know, he decided silently as he took another drink. If it turns out my mind's just waiting to go fuckin' mental and turn me into Izzie 2.0, at least life might be a bit more interesting. Now if I could get that damn Hercules physique of hers along with her psychosis-- oh hey, look, I made a funny-- it might be a trade-off worth making.

Not surprisingly, whilst Cormac was pondering this (he stopped as soon as he ended with the mental image of his face somehow pasted onto Izzie's body, which was both comical and horrifying to him), the conversation had moved on. Edei had changed the subject, perhaps deciding the topic of Cormy's ringtone was simply too esoteric and many-layered to be mused upon with so limited and unrefined an apparatus as the human mind. As for the new topic of discussion at hand...

"So I take it Izzie doesn't hang out much outside of work," Edei wondered aloud to the pair of them. "But you guys aren't exactly bro-fisting either, so does that mean no one in this band has simply... hung out before? You guys have had to have been through more reincarnations of the line-up than I have."

Now this was a subject which Cormy was thoroughly qualified to muse upon, being perhaps the most long-lived constituent of their fine death metal fellowship aside from their founder, of course. This, in addition to the alcohol he had imbibed, was perhaps why when Cormac answered, he spoke and postured like a withered old wiseman, blessing the unenlightened youth with far-flung tales and legends, with words of long-lost aeons that transcended time and space.

Or, more to the point, he replied like a slightly drunk person trying to look deeply sagacious.

"Thing is--" Cormy hiccuped and almost fell head-first off his stool from the force of it, before straightening himself out. "No time to just hang out. Izzie fires people at a faster rate than an M60 fires bullets, so there's really not much chance to just hang out. Hell, I'm like the sixth drummer Psychosis has had, and I've been with this shit for... like, a year and a half now. I'm baffled as to why I've been spared the guillotine, but I figure, fuck it, I enjoy playing the music and I've learned how to avoid El Jefe's wrath, so I'm content." He took another swig of his Jameson or some shit, and added, "I've hung out with her a couple times before, but for the most part? She doesn't want anything to do with people outside the studio." He shrugged. "I'm content with it. Believe me, Izzie ain't the funnest person to drink with, unless you wanna get thrown outta the bar along with her and banned for life." He sighed, and shook his head. "I really liked that bar."

"Oh?" Craig asked, raising a brow at Edei after she clinked her glass against his and informed him that he was mistaken - that Izzie Martinez had given different response. Still, he had high doubts that it was much nicer, especially since the bassist was biting her lip as if to refrain from smiling or laughing. Then, she told him. The response made him smile. Yeah, that one definitely sounded like something Izzie would say as well. He cocked his head to the side as Edei debated whether the hole threat was better than the fire threat. "Well, either one you're going to die...Depends, are you being buried in the hole you're dying in or are you just in a hole and dying? If you're buried alive, then you'd suffocate... If you were burned alive the flesh would sear off you bones, I wouldn't imagine it would take too long for that to kill you..." He narrowed his eyes as if deep in thought and took another sip of his beer and then pausing when he realized how morbid that sounded. "You know what, I think I've been listening to too much death metal." He said chuckling a little and shaking his head at himself and casting an apologetic smile at Edei.


Looking at Cormac, Craig's lips twitched into a smile. The punk was already covered in alcohol and he probably hadn't even been in the bar for ten minutes, but as the drummer said - he was basically obligated to be covered in some sort of alcohol at all times. What amused Craig mostly though was the fact that Cormac hadn't even finished most of his drink that he'd just spilled on himself and he already nearly sounded intoxicated.

That was when Edei asked about the ringtone. "Cormac's text message notification...ringtone, thing. It's Napalm Death's "You Suffer"...I'm almost positive I'm not the only one who's been startled when that thing goes off unexpectedly." He told her with a shrug and smile before turning to look at Cormac who was informing them that he always planned to change it but kept forgetting. Craig raised a brow at the drummer who seemed to be in a sort of daze, his eyes even glazing over for a few moments before asking them if that was some sort of mental condition. "Perhaps you have Alzheimers." He joked, smirking as he raised the bottle to his lips and took a sip.

He then tilted his head and listened as Edei posed yet another good question (although this one was slightly more interesting than what Cormac was planning on changing his ringtone to). He let the drummer answer that question, at least for now. Craig was still fairly new, only having been around for almost a year. Normally he spent a lot of time with his bandmates - but Psychosis, not so much. Mostly because Izzie told him to fuck off and leave her alone - which he was okay with and Cormac kind of did his own thing, except for the time or two Craig had invited them to come hang out with some friends. He let Cormac finish his speech before he nodded his agreement. "Pretty much what he said." He told Edei with a shrug. "I just try to stay on her good side - I've only been with Psychosis for a few months - almost a year, I guess." He admitted.

Edei went through two more whiskeys in the short span of time that it took the two men to answer her questions and when a lull in the conversation presented itself, she cast an incredulous look regarding their replies. “What do you mean you just try to stay on her good side?” The inquiry had left her lips before she realized that it might make her look dense and she pushed her now empty glass upon the bar to hold up both hands defensively whilst twisting slightly from side to side as if warding of incoming verbal attacks.

“Not what I mean. Lemme rephrase…” She dragged her lower lip between her teeth and worried at it slightly before trying again. “I mean… Maybe Izzie’s firing people left and right because she doesn’t feel a connection to ‘em… You know? If you don’t make an impact with someone then of course they’re going to easily cast you out of their life. I’m not saying we do fuckin’ trust falls with each other in some sort of weird ass team building exercise or anything but maybe we should… I don’t know…”

She gestured vaguely as if the small movement would somehow emphasize her point before giving up with a slightly frustrated look. “I just think we should….. Befriend her.”

Silence reigned for a moment and Edei realized her error. She had just tried to talk about feelings and shit with a couple of dudes. Goddammit.

Popping up from her seat unannounced, she threaded her way through the crowd towards the jukebox to give herself a moment to regroup. The musical selection was an array of bar classics lined up with a single pop album option which made her smirk slightly and she finally went with a Dropkick Murphy’s song to play upon the Irish theme of the bar. A blood red fingernail tapped upon “Dirty Glass” and she made her way back to her seat, slipping in between Craig and Cormy as she tried to pretend as if the previous monologue hadn’t even occurred.

“So…” Her slender fingers wrapped around her glass which the bartender had seen fit to top off during her absence and her mind flickered rapidly through questions she could ask the duo though most seemed too personal, too boring or too mundane. So instead she decided to continue asking the questions. Less pressure that way!

“How in the world did Izzie get you banned from a bar for life!?”