#;showtime

[rkxluda]

Showtime

Surreal, that's the only thing that was on the girl's mind really. Personally, while it felt like a long journey, it really wasn't, if she thought about it logically. She's only trained for a bit over two years before debuting now, the more she thought about it, the less it felt like enough time, the less it felt like she was really prepared for what was to come.

“I'm nervous,” she said to Jiyeon, maybe a bit unnecessarily so as they surely all were. At least she couldn't imagine that anyone was calm in this kind of situation, but if so, she wanted to know their ways. “Do you think we've practised enough?” she continues asking the female, eternally glad that she'd at least known half of her subunit-members before the project. Being in this with complete strangers, even if she got along with them, just wouldn't have been the same as this.

She linked arms with Jiyeon in an extra attempt to calm herself down a little bit further and hopefully the other as well. They'd known each other for so long, from her library days till now, the elder had taught her how to properly walk in heels, had encouraged her singing... “Thank you,” she then added out of nowhere.

@rkxjiyeon

[glumrocker]

would you kindly.. sing the sappiest, grossest, gooiest pop love song you can find in the span of a five minute search

> You don't need five minutes. You already know which one you're going to sing the moment you read it, without even needing the compulsion to seek it out. ...you might have a few more guilty pleasures besides chocolate, and having a soundproofed respiteblock allowed for a lot of experimentation in material you wouldn't normally sing on stage in a hundred sweeps. But that doesn't mean you won't toss your fans a bone on occasion.

> When you bring the camera into view, you've actually managed a reasonable semblance of upright posture for once. You're dressed down at the moment, from what can be seen-- just a tank top, purple on black sporting your sign, your hair tied back in one massively fluffed out ponytail. No gloves (one hand is green and the other yellow, today, clashing terribly with claws painted fluorescent purple), but the choker with its spiked ring remains snug in place (neck lit up with a faint blue glow).

Could you have picked a song even more disgustingly goopy and sappy and, well, pop, than the one you have? Perhaps.Do you care? Not in the slightest.

> Which is why your expression doesn't flicker for a moment from its usual heavy-eyed stare when a very familiar flute intro starts up...

It's pretty clear that you don't have much practice with the sort of tender, warbling vocals the song demands, but you give it a rousing good try.

You absolutely nail that final chorus, though, belting it out bent over the mic with every bit as much passion as you give your best concerts.

Eat your heart out, Celine Dionne.

[glumrocker]

[An upload appears of a short video clip, crossposted to tumblr as well as local networks. The feed is momentarily fuzzy as he fiddles with what would seem to be a high-quality webcam before Pierce leans back into view, lanky frame draped carelessly over a computer chair with metal-clad boots kicked up onto the desk. His hair, bleached stark white in broad bands shot through black and teased and spiked to wild abandon spills over the back of his chair and hides half his face. Anything white -- hair, paint, and clothes alike -- is touched with luminous purple from the glow of a nearby blacklight in the otherwise dim room that matches the stranger internal glow of his hands where not hidden by gloves.

There’s a ribboned box of chocolates resting in his lap, a black and purple daisy shaped box tucked under one arm, and a bag of gourmet coffee wedged between one leg and the side of the chair. At first glance, one might mistake his expression for a disdained scowl, but his easy posture says otherwise-- a chronic case of resting bitch face. When he speaks, it’s smooth, quiet, a bit lethargic to match the heavy-lidded eyes.

“Uh... ... Hey. I’m really feelin’ it tonight, so I thought I’d thank all my fans old an’ new out there for bein’ your awesome selves... Spreadin’ the love no matter how far apart we might be. Marnie, I hope you’re watchin’, cause I’m here waitin’ for your star to shine brightest of all. You give your damn brother a call an’ tell me if you liked your gift, you’re breakin’ my pusher up here. All right... Think that’s it from me. Stay lively.”

A moment more to fiddle with the camera again, and the video cuts out.]

[glumrocker]

> It's an unassuming little thing that Grinmaww had brought to you. Just a plain rod, with a ring at one end, that was meant to light up in accordance to your psychic wavelength once you'd left an imprint of your voodoos on it. Pretty simple.

So why do you feel so petrified, staring at it in your hands?

> No one's ever said a word before, through countless performances. It's not as though it's suddenly going to light up with a huge neon sign declaring for all to see that you're abnormal... Right?

And if it did... Would it even matter?

She's not from your timeline, she's not even a clown-- however close she might be to one.

So maybe you're a freak, but who's going to even care the moment you step over the threshold into an entirely different universe?

No one.

So.

> All it takes is a moment of concentration, and it lights up in the same shade of vivid purple as when you're using them. No doubt there's some sort of significance to the exact hue, but for all intents and purposes, it's just. Purple. Same as any other. Almost anti-climactic, really.

And now that your little crisis is out of the way, you can hand it back off to Grinmaww so he can return it to Saness and she can get to work on the device. 

[glumrocker]

> Before the magic wore off, you recorded a short video clip. It’s just you, cracking the knuckles of both hands in succession so they light up in a successive rainbow of colors like a neon x-ray, to a muffled beat of bass-heavy techno. You flash a peace sign for the camera, and the clip ends.

[glumrocker]

would you kindly video call a random fan? it would probably make their night!

> A random fan? Well, if the anons insist. You bring up the list of followers of your streaming channel, jab your finger at one, and ring ‘em up. Turns out it’s someone on one of the other clown ships, and they’re just about to start their shift so you can only chat for a couple minutes, but they certainly seem thrilled as they sign off. Feels good.

[glumrocker]

M!A: for one week, every time you crack a joint, all the bones in the body part housing it will light up in a different glow stick color. To change the color of a limb, simply crack a joint again. But be careful! If you do it too many times in a row, they'll just become permanently transparent. Try not to exceed ten in an hour.

> You were just in the process of crackling all your knuckles when this came through, and suddenly your hands are both glowing bright fucking pink. You’re not even high tonight, and this might be the strangest damn thing that’s ever happened to you. 

All right, I’ll be level with You… I’ve got no idea what in the hell is goin on here, but I’m not complainin.

> You do it again because it’s too tempting not to, then stop because you’re not really in the mood to tempt fate. Now they’re purple. This is acceptable.