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Nick Arringer

Revolutionary guitarist, breakthrough singer/songwriters and infamous bad boy musician

0 · 172 views · located in Galaxy Cupcakes

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Jag

Description

Name: Nick Erringer

Age: 29

Height: 6'0"

Weight: 170 lbs.

Eyes: Blue

Hair: Naturally blonde, often dyed other colors

Normal look: Disheveled

Addictions: Alcohol, cocaine

Times arrested: Nine

Times indicted: One

Times convicted: Zero

Political leanings: Fuck the suits

Personality

A firm establishment in the anti-establishment counterculture, Nick Erringer is somewhat begrudging of his fame while embracing the excess that comes as a fringe benefit of stardom.

Panned and attacked by some for simply capitalizing on the popular trends of the moment and going in the other direction, those on the inside of Erringer’s operation know that he is actually a meticulous and technical worker when it comes to studio development of his work and is actually something of a closet academic. While this is a closely guarded secret, it goes to show that there is a deeper thought beneath the sex, drugs and rock & roll.

Publicly, Erringer is not one to tiptoe around questions. Whether it be a personal opinion on another musician with whom he may be fueding at any given moment or a general shot at government control, Nick doesn’t mind taking to a microphone – either on stage on tour or at the red carpet for an awards show where he normally wears jeans and a t-shirt with a suit jacket thrown on.

Aside from those in feud, Erringer is actually well-liked by most in show business. Considered to be refreshingly-honest and unafraid in his work, Nick usually makes an appearance at the bigger events and parties expected of his unexpected social circle.

History

Starting at the age of thirteen with a hand-me-down pawn shop guitar, Nick Arringer found music as an escape from an alcoholic mother and an abusive stepfather in the slums of Wing City. Introduced to a high school friend’s older brother who was avid drummer at the time, the two began to play on a regular basis. Finding relative success and hating the establishment of school, Arringer left school at 17 and began working on music full time.

Providing searing and innovative guitar licks for the upstart band Septic Tank, Arringer and his older bandmates released a self-recorded basement demo album before signing to a minor label. At the age of twenty Nick and the rest of the band recorded their first studio album. Commercially the album was mediocre in sales and panned critically, but credit was given to Arringer’s unique guitar style and also to a bonus track feature Arringer vocally entitled “Belt Loop Blues.”

Septic Tank broke up shortly after a regional tour to support their album. It was at this time that Arringer was tapped to replace the lead guitarist in the band FLAME fronted by legendary frontman Jackie Sheridan. Twenty-three-year-old Arringer and the flamboyantly-gay thirty-one-year-old Sheridan feuded publicly and often refused to take the stage with one another. When a fight broke out backstage a year later, police found cocaine in Arringer’s belongings and the man was brought before serious legal action for the first time. In a deal to have the charges dropped, Nick was ordered to get a GED to complete the high school education he’d abandoned years before.

The incident was the excuse necessary for Sheridan to boot Arringer from FLAME whereupon Arringer formed his own band with the savant finally taking the front position for the first time. Unlike the flash and pomp of FLAME, Arringer’s Silver Nitrate Rush was a gritty and edgy group that skyrocketed to flame with the backing of counterculture behind them. Following the release of their third album, the group parted amicably to work on solo and side projects before reuniting for another tour and studio effort.

So begins...

Nick Arringer's Story

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#, as written by Jag
For Nick to notice much of his surroundings and the change of pace this place offered from the rest of Wing City, he'd have to be sober long enough to care. That was something that just didn't happen too often these days, but at least he was usually pretty easy to get along with either way so long as you weren't wearing a suit. A denim jacket covered a random t-shirt as he walked down the street, hands working a new music player to drown out the world for a few seconds.

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#, as written by Jag
Blending into the scene was a lot easier around here than other places. No hulking brutes clanking about in armor, no idiots dancing around robes and pretending to speak some ancient language to conjur spirits. This was place was just...normal. Well, as normal as things ever got for Nick and Wing City. The sensation being jerked from his lazy walk brought a sudden panic followed by a welcome smirk.

"Of course I'm recording," he responded. He hadn't seen Tate in a while. "Just don't like being locked up in a little room with padded walls all day."

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#, as written by Jag
Nick Arringer drank in the wave of smoke for a few seconds before responding. Hell, if there were more place like this in the city he'd have to get out more often.

"Yeah, maybe we can work a little something out," he responded while fumbling with the fancy new player he'd been testing out for most of the morning. Most people saw him as a raw talent with a penchant for drugs and vandalism. They were right, but most didn't realize how much he actually worked when it came to music. The player was nothing but small variants on the same riff he'd been working on for days.

"I will do...just about anything for one of those right now," Nick said with a hopeful grin, half reaching for one of the tempting cupcakes as the woman approached.

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#, as written by Jag
Nick fished one of the cupcakes off the tray, wasting no time to peel off an edge and take a small bite out of the baked good. And good was a word that didn't do the masterpiece justice. The little pills had a way of killing taste from time to time, but Nick was fairly sure there weren't enough drugs in Wing City to dull the joy of the thing.

"G'damn, girl," he said, licking some icing of his finger and flashing a thumbs-up with the same hand simultaneously. "Galaxy...that's a sweet name," Arringer commented before flashing his eyes back to Tate fighting for her own attention.

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#, as written by Jag
The cupcake was little more than a memory on the way to digestion by the time that the girls finished speaking. Nick was content to enjoy the culinary work and let two pretty girls banter back and forth. Tame action compared other he'd seen with two pretty girls, but he wasn't complaining about something free. Then, as quickly as she'd came, the cupcake-dispensing girl vanished again.

"One, these cupcakes are fuckin' delicious and that's all the sugar she should need. Two, I can think of a hell of a lot better use for that needle," Nick commented, licking his fingers again.

"So when are you gonna come lay down a track with me?" He asked Tate.

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#, as written by Jag
"Ehh, fuck 'em." That attitude had landed Nick in a lot of water but never caused him to lose much sleep at night. "Most of those guys have a corporate hand so far up their ass it's like a puppet. And the rest of 'em think Sheridan is Jesus back again. Who needs 'em?"

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#, as written by Jag
Nick laughed and dug his hand into his pocket, accidentally brushing his hand against the player and jolting himself with a sudden burst of incredibly loud music in to the dormant ear buds. Ripping them out of his ears with a few choice curses reserved normally for Jackie Sheridan and FLAME!, he quickly turned his attention back to Tate. Any day that he ran into the chick, wierd as hell and definitely not what he expected. Still, the girl could play.

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#, as written by Jag
"You drive one hell of a bargain," he smirked.

The setting changes from hipsterville to Galaxy Cupcakes

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#, as written by Jag
The pills had long since worn off. That was a good thing. Unfortunately, the lingering aftertaste of the cupcake was just a moment now was well. That wasn't such a good thing. Wandering around the city in the evening had always been a way for Nick to clear his mind, to escape the endless loop of beaten and broken riffs that simply weren't going anywhere. Being on the road was exhausting, but recording was more likely to drive the man insane.

Tracing his steps from earlier in the day before meeting Tate, Nick found himself staring at the hip little sign for the bakery that had yielded the girl and, more important, the cupcake. He stepped since to see her, but instead he heard himself.

"Might wanna find some better music to play in here than this shit," he spoke to her back.

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#, as written by Jag
Hands led the way for arms to entangle themselves across his chest as a boyish grin swept across the man's fact for a moment. As the door closed behind him, Arringer stepped off to the right and further into the store before planting his feet, on which he immediately began to rock back and forth slightly out of habit.

"Hey, I wrote it, so I've got the right! I own a good 5% of that thing, last time I checked," Nick offered with half laugh. "Anyway, sweet move. Maybe I'll have to try that leg-kick thing sometime."

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#, as written by Jag
The reddish hair was a bit of an experiment, something he'd been trying after catching one too many glimpses of his own reflection the last self-induced depression out of which he'd only recently climbed during the writing process. Brushing away a few rough strands of the loose cut, he rocked back and forth a little more.

"I really like this part of the city. Kinda chill, but weird enough for a guy like me. That and I've been thinking about that cupcake all day."

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#, as written by Jag
Cocking his head to the side and drinking in the look and feel of the shop, Nick pressed his lips together tightly and nodded slowly as if some sort of high-level art critic inspecting for elements of style and how they blended together to make a statement. The truth was more that he just liked the colors of the place.

"That's hardcore. Then again, I didn't really know demand was out there for meat cupcakes," Nick's mouth spoke while his feet carried him back glancing through the door for a moment, mind ever wandering.

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#, as written by Jag
The street area was exactly what you'd expect -- a couple of beatnik kids sipping on expensive lattes and telling the other why they "just didn't get" this movie or completely missed the message. Others were closing up, itching to home. Kate was probably one of them.

"Wow, thanks," Nick said with an unhideable smirk as he accepted the box. Wasting no time, he shuffled to pop open the box and quickly introduce his mouth to another baked wonder.

"Oh, that's it," he almost moaned before turning back to Kate, wiping off his lip as he spoke. "So don't take this wrong but...like...how do you work here and not be...well...really fat?"

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#, as written by Jag
The last of her words coincided with another bite of the cupcake before the man decided that discretion was the better part of valor and vowed to be far more obscene with the eating of the cupcakes later in the sanctity of his own home. "Trust me. If I had these things around me all day long, I'd be huge. You don't even want to know."

"So which came first, the baking or the mad air guitar? And why that song?" His mind flashed to when he'd written that one. He'd been sitting on a beach. With her.

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#, as written by Jag
"Just our drummer," he fired back without missing much of a beat. He'd been ragging on the guy for so long now that he couldn't even remember how the joke had gotten started.

"Okay, this is going to sound really, really bad," he said with a cringe, "but I have no idea who you are. And I feel a guilty calling you Cupcake Girl, which I guess would be a pretty hardcore song title, but yeah. Nick," he said pointing to himself, then turned the point to her and arched his eyebrows.

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#, as written by Jag
Nick nodded. Truth be told, Cupcake Girl was an honorable and high-minded title compared to the nickname that other girls ended up with in Nick's book from time to time. Lopsided Lisa sprung to mind in about the least pleasurable memory Nick could recall at the moment.

"Kate. CupKate...okay, nevermind, that's really bad," he said with a laughing apologies before setting the box down for a moment and running his hand along the edge of a pocket that normally contained a pack of cigarettes. Too bad he'd quit about eight hours ago, throwing away a brand new pack after one smoke. He'd probably buy some new ones on the way home.

"Okay, I'm gonna go. I hear there's weird guys busting into cupcake places after hours and creeping out people."

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#, as written by Jag
Nick had never been comfortable with the concept of "fame" in the traditional sense. The perks were amazing, but some of the stigma that came with it was one of the reasons for the anti-establishment attitude. That and he'd promised to never become Jackie Sheridan. He moved to the door and turned around.

"I like this place. Maybe I'll come back sometime and bring you some music you should really listen to sometime. And you can show me that kick."

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