from lucy gray: It's boring to stay in one place for a long time.
her initial approach was unlikely, these days. unaccustomed to the local pub scene, with previous favor resting in the reality of nursing a brown bag-concealed can in an empty park alongside friends. with them all gone, living life and other shenanigans, blue had no choice but to branch out. it wasn't much of a stretch, already meeting the gazes of familiar faces, the likeness of those passed by in the halls at mountain view, some neighbors and clients of her aunts — those sorts. but, she'd never felt the call to engage, not much past pleasantries, instead, adhering to the exposed brick of its walls, nodding along to the night's lineup until walking home sounded like a much better prospect. rinse and repeat.
enter lucy gray... colorful, sweeping fabrics enough to stick out amongst the earth tones of henrietta's population, and a voice with just as much of a punch, the type of sound whose edge cut clean through a fit of compressed bodies, all enraptured even in varying states of drunken stupor. to say that blue was rapt with a buzz not only provided by a heavily-poured drink would severely underwrite the excitement that billowed in her gut. the entire crowd, too, with a cacophony of whoops and hollers, ninety percent of which were provided by blue herself, echoing amongst the bar walls. her inevitable approach was far less than subtle — maybe rude, too, if all the performer wished for was a strong drink and a shot of solitude — weaving through the masses with an ease only afforded by a one-track mind such as her own.
" you did well, " said as a matter of fact, the blank stare of a coach, a mentor zeroing in on execution and completion. in reality, it was simply blue, veering towards the air of coolness so much that it ventured far into apathy. she didn't want to be too much, too overbearing, not yet. sensibility doesn't scare others away, not those with stakes involved.
luckily, the devolution of cherry cola, non-sobered conversation allowed her to loosen up, stretch the muscles of once-untamed social skills, with years of forced reclusion and stagnation rotting every individual fiber. soon enough, blue found herself swiveling atop the stool, her body in perpetual motion while eyes tethered to a single, unmoving force of @veilhouse — the laws of physics would laugh, had newton or perhaps galileo woke to witness blue sargent and lucy gray baird. it was hardly an even exchange, but perhaps she enjoyed it that way; prying, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed with the question and answer combo that maybe felt more like an interrogation than a question. " so, y'agree? " as if the musician had any inkling of blue's own personal philosophy, one she withheld in the pursuit of wonder. interest. " well, shit, some folks think i'm crazy for sayin' the same thing. i mean, i grew up here. henrietta. take it from me: i know why people go here for all hallows' eve 'n the spring equinox, then ditch us in the summer 'n winter for, say, even the next town over. y'don't need to live here to figure out why i agree wit'ya. " and a beat. " so where to, next, then? "
