A Different Sort Of Memorial


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Scene Title A Different Sort of Memorial
Synopsis On the night of the most infamous date in New York City's modern history, some choose to celebrate life and the future instead of mourn the past.
Date November 8, 2018

Cat's Cradle

The clink of glasses and the sound of singing fills the air outside of one building in Phoenix Heights. November 8th is typically a sombre day - a day of remembrance, of memorial, a day of looking back at the past to honour those lost, and a day of looking to the future in the hope of what lies beyond. November 8th, 2018, devoid of any sort of looming or recent tragedy, is perhaps more than this than any other in several years.

Cat's Cradle, for the evening, has decided to emphasis one of these aspects more than the other, offering a different sort of memorial compared to many others happening throughout the evening. A few people stand outside, one looking at a sign advertising the "First Annual November 8th Benefit Concert @ Cat's Cradle - 9PM - ALL AGES!", while the other pays admission, before waving their friend over and heading inside.

Baby, you'll come knocking on my front door
Same old line you used to use before
I said ya, well
What am I supposed to do
I didn't know what I was getting into

Just announced two weeks previous, the sign promises A variety of local acts for $25, including Eve Mas herself. As well as others with all the profits going to the victims of past November 8th tragedies and their families, as well as to support veterans of the Second American Civil War - and if the sound leaking into the streets, it seems like the night might be going pretty well. The seer and owner of the venue already on stage in a black dress and white cotton shawl that hugs her ghostly pale shoulders, head tipped back she's in the middle of delivering a song and she's right in the thick of the emotion.

Cat's Cradle

Phoenix Heights

November 8th

9:00 pm

Behind the bar, there stands a woman different from the usual bartenders, a bit more of a dour look in her pale gray eyes. Robyn Quinn sets a whiskey sour down on the bar, handing it over to someone else. She's not a bartender by any means, but it's where she's found herself tonight for at least a moment. The crowd seems energised by the music thus far, the SESA agent adjusting her eyepatch as she listens and tries not to be bothered by all the lights.

So you've had a little trouble in town
Now you're keeping some demons down
Stop draggin' my
Stop draggin' my
Stop draggin' my heart around

Tonight's a night for remembrance, but for her and many others that opportunity had already been had at Yamagato, or was to painful to indulge on it's own. So tonight is also about finding hope and solace in music in all shape and forms.

Another individual bothered by all the lights is Emily, who's done her best to be seated as far away from them and the stage as possible. She's dressed in a striped beige and cream sweater, arms folded as she leans on the far corner table she's sat at. The dark aviators she wears mask just how much people-watching she's doing from her quiet seat.

November 8th wasn't a night she could stand being home alone for. Finding a place that was handling its memorial with a bit of life had been appealing, but once inside she'd wheeled herself to the nearest corner and parked herself. The drink she'd had at some point is nothing but melting ice now, but moving might mean losing her seat, what with the growing crowd here.

She wasn't expecting Eve to be this good a singer, and her head tilts as she listens. Perhaps tempting fate, Emily slides her phone closer by tugging on it with two fingers, flipping it up into her palm to snap a photo of the pale songstress-seer. Not a video, though. She'd learned her lesson there.

After lengthy negotiations, which mostly involved promising to return the books she’d borrowed — which she hasn’t done yet — in the weeks that Cat’s Cradle had been closed, Squeaks secured herself an evening of helping. Because kids can’t actually be employed at bars, even if they’re sort of family. It’s frowned on for some reason. But she can help with simple tasks, which has mostly so far been clearing and cleaning tables.

And sometimes helping herself to a snack or two. Those candied cherries are like kryptonite.

The frontmost tables have been left for other people to deal with, while Squeaks hangs near the middling and back areas. It’s very loud already, and closer to the front is too loud. But for right now, while Eve is busy singing and Robyn is serving drinks, she’s found herself a seat at the far end of the bar to knee-sit on and listen.

For someone unable to get into Yamagato park without blowing a huge surprise, this memorial is the one. Usually, this isn't the type of music that Hailey enjoys. It's not loud or raucous enough for her tastes, but it fits the mood. Tonight she is without companions, because the noise wouldn't be good for them, but she can feel others milling around outside. Agitated. Perhaps it's the noise or the sheer number of people that have invaded their space. Either way, the empath refuses to allow their dispositions to affect her own.

"Hey Squeakers!" She greets the young girl in a too loud voice as she delivers a giant wave for attention toward Emily. They might as well stick together, right? "What the heck are you doing here? Does Gillian know?" The last question is asked with that older sister tone of I may or may not tell on you.

Lynette definitely should not be in a bar. And yet, she's there, perched on a barstool and drinking water like she might be the permanent designated driver. She didn't want to go to the more dour memorials— she remembers how bad it was without their help. This was more of a draw, something with a more hopeful outlook on those memories.

Plus, she knows the performers and she never let anything stop her from coming to support her people.

Regardless, she doesn't look entirely comfortable sitting here. There's a smile for those who say hello, but they're shortlived before she goes back to something more neutral.

"At least drink a soda," comes from behind Lynette, where Robyn has slid over with a tumbler full of a dark liquid - thankfully, from the way it pops and fizzes, it's nothing Lynette should fear. "Your water is stressing me out." Said completely straight faced, but with just the slightest teasing tone.

Fingers tap across the bar in a rhythm as she looks out to the stage nervously. "Thanks for coming out," is offered out in a lower voice. "Was hoping I wouldn't be the only one." Who wanted something else goes left unsaid, Robyn leaning forward against the bar.

The loud, familiar voice cutting through the din draws Emily's attention — as it was probably meant to, judging by the wave that's afforded in her direction. She sits for a moment in silence before unfolding her arms to sip away the dregs of the melted ice. Right. Social. If Hailey had come to a crowded place like this, Emily could put aside her own discomfort with the crowd and maneuver her way toward the bar as well.

Some creative angling helps her wrangle her way through the narrow spaces between people — you'd be surprised how having a wheelchair rarely earned you the right of way, especially when people were focused on something else, like a stage! "Jim decide he's too good to slum it up with the humans tonight?" she asks at a much more conversational level toward Hailey when she gets close enough. Emily smiles briefly at Squeaks', an upward nod at her with a slight furrow of her brow given to echo at least part of Hailey's question.

Most of today was spent at home, celebrating and remembering all at the same time. Raquelle woke up, with his loved ones. Something that he still can’t believe to being a regular thing. Opening his eyes, and looking over to his better half. Sharing groggy explicative filled nonsense that makes up a morning greetings. Touching up one teenager’s roots as breakfast is handled by an overly perky pre-teen. Each second, every minute and after every hour, a new appreciation has been gained and never forgotten for those little moments. After all, it is the day his littlest angel came into his life but it’s a day filled with so many tears.

Birthday cake, lighting incense for lost friends and family, presents…it’s something that has become tradition of sorts for the little family. But this was the day Diana decided she wanted to spend her birthday bringing cupcakes and food to the needy. So that’s what they did.

So! This evening, Raquelle arrives at the Cat’s Cradle, not too late and not too early. A velvet dark purple tuxedo jacket left open over a glittery black top, fitted black leather pants, accessories of course including his black fingerless gloves and dark purple and black boots with a hint of heel…he is removing a pair of mirrored sunglasses as he approaches the bar.

“Hi.” Squeaks’ greeting is directed toward Hailey first, but she gives Emily a really quick grin once she’s gotten closer. “I’m helping Aunt Eve.” And to prove that point, she holds up the rag she should be wielding against tabletops. That’ll happen eventually, maybe after Eve is finished with singing. Or if one of the real employees beats her to it. “She said I could, and Mom knows where I’m at.” Gillian will, anyway, since there was a note left for her.

“You could pretend that it’s vodka,” Lynette says in a dry tone. And without a straight face. But, she accepts the soda, possibly for Robyn’s nerves or maybe for a change of pace. Water can only be exciting for so long.

Her head tilts when Robyn goes on, her expression shifting to a more sincere one. “I don’t think I could stand to cry over that day again. This was a much better idea. When we came up here to the safe zone, this is what I wanted. A hopeful future. A chance to move on.” She looks out toward the stage, letting out a sigh. “Mateo said he might do a little something. Any chance we’ll see you tonight?”

Fashionably Late. Yes, that’s what we’ll call it.

Cassandra is Fashionably Late. Not late-late, as most people might think if they even notice the mousy-haired seer slip through the front door after passing her bills over to the dour-faced hulk of a man sitting by the door to gain entry. The last time she was here was for a viewing in the inner sanctum of the seer’s room and this promises to be a little more pleasant, all things considered.

Wearing comfortable clothes and dark sunglasses that hide her eyes, Cassandra meanders through the milling crowd, around tables with seated patrons, to a spot at the bar that magically opens up after she waits patiently, using her feminine charm and a twist of her hips to slip between two revelers to claim her spot. A spot with a good view of the stage, near the corner where naturally slow down to make the turn into the hall behind that leads to the bathroom. An out of the way spot where conversation could naturally happen, words going in one ear while music went in the other. And from this point, she simply watches. If the bartender comes close, she’ll order a drink, but for now she’s simply watching the crowd.

Is that a wheelchair? And that girl who was going to help map the tunnels before that idea was completely shot down. And Agent Quinn’s the bartender? This does promise to be an interesting evening.

Robyn watches Eve on stage for a moment, before chuckling and shaking her head. "Don't think so," is her answer to Lynette. "Not my scene anymore. Besides," she looks over at the other woman with a smirk. "I can't play without a band. Barely speaking to most of mine as it is." She looks around the room, stepping back from where she leaves. "Have to go talk on stage soon, though. I am one of the hostesses after all."

Yes. Agent Quinn is the bartender for the moment - not officially, since she lacks any sort of certification to serve alcohol, in which case she should know better. But, here we are. She watches Squeaks and Hailey for a moment, before sliding down the bar to Cassandra. "Agent. And here I thought we weren't allowed to have social lives." A poor attempt at a joke? Something like that. "What can I get you?"

Whirling around the stage Eve continues her song and dance. Tapping her toe and throwing her hair back as she goes to hang on one of the velvet curtains on the stage, quite literally giving her all. The music scratches and Eve stops and takes a moment to look in the crowd, it's like she sees through them. It's always like this on stage for Eve, she doesn't hear the echoes, see the things, she just is.

The music starts up again as she utters the last line, “Stop draggin my heart…around.”

The spotlight dims on the seer, “Thank you.” Is whispered though with her head tilted back it might seem like she's thanking the spirits above and around her. Clutching the fabric of the dress, she feels the applause and cheering around her and she sways off of the stage. Looking like she's on a acid trip with wide eyes but she very well might be. “My lovelies!” Throwing her arms out as she passes Hailey and Squeaks, “Doolittle, Dearie!” A peck on the cheek for both girls before she's giving Hailey a look, “I hope you've come to help your sister and Aunt Eve.” A twinkle in her eye as she goes to enlist her other sort of niece to help Squeaks. Lynette and Robyn get a knowing look and Eve looks down at Lynette’s glass. “Sassy! We need a Shirley temple for Lady Zeus STAT!”

“I told you we don't have anymore cherries Ev-”

THE CHERRIES ARE A METAPHOR!” slamming her fist on the table and points in the direction of the bartender, Sassy throws a towel at his boss's face, “I told your ass about sticking that finger in my face Ima bite it off lady.” This feels familiar for all who frequent this place, for some newcomers they may be alarmed but Eve snickers and tries to remain serious, “That's it! You're working all next week, alone!”

“THAT’S ALREADY MY LIFE!!” Sassy bursts out laughing as Eve holds the bar for support, the drink is made for Lynette no booze duh with a wink from the bartender. “We love each other, really.”

"And that's my cue, before I end up working here all week." Robyn remarks to Cassandra. "I'll be back later." With a deep breath, she slides back from the back, slipping from behind it and out into the crowd as she winds her way up towards the stage. Similarly to Eve, she offers a wave over to Hailey and Squeaks as she passes by.

She's pretty sure hosting a benefit concert wasn't what anyone had had in mind when she'd asked for a month off from work, but the timing is more coincidence than anything else. It's with slow, deliberate pace that she makes her way up to the stage in Eve's wake, climbing up and forcing a smile as she looks out at the crowd.

"Hello everyone!" she proclaims as she takes hold of the stage microphone, fingers curling around it tight. "Give it up for Eve Mas! It's always a treat to have her playing, even if she owns the place, isn't it? Never gets old." She holds an arm out, a cue for the audience to applaud if they aren't already. "We still have plenty of music to come this evening. It's about time everyone got their time and money's worth for something, right?"

A beat for audience to response, the fake smile on the hostesses' face becoming less so with every moment. "How is everyone doing tonight? Tonight is a special night, but I don't have to tell any of you that. We appreciate you choosing to spend it here, with us, surrounded by friends and friendly strangers alike, celebrating the more uplifting parts of a day like today. Hope, the life to come, the fond memories we all possess. The city has been through a lot. What better way to rise past it than a party?"

Hailey doesn't answer until the song is over and even then it's a quick shake of the head. No, Jim isn’t slumming, no she’s not here to help. "I left him with Cooper," she says in a matter of a fact tone. Everyone knows that Cooper is not Jim's favorite person, which is probably why his best friend's more impish nature revealed itself when she dropped him just outside the SESA agent's window.

Jim was amused, that's all that mattered.

When Robyn hits the stage, the empath straightens up to listen. And listen. And then her shoulders slump when she leans into her two friends, "I was hoping they'd found DMX somewhere and brought him to the stage." Still, Robyn gets a whoop whoop from the blonde when the word party is spoken into the mic. "DEE EM EX!! DEE EM EX!!"

For as much effort was spent approaching the bar, Emily's wheeling back from it as Eve comes tearing through, glancing up warily out of the corner of her eye as she greets everyone and then promptly gets into an argument with the bartender. A bartender who gets a skeptical narrowing of the eyes, even though it's not like anyone can see it behind her sunglasses. She remembers that squirrel-slinging oddball, after all.

"With Cooper." Emily echoes back absently after Hailey responds. Afterward, her attention swivels more fully toward the other girl, a healthy pause given as she considers that implication. Poor guy. she decides.

The woman Eve referred to as Lady Zeus is given a second look, not just for her nickname, but her drink choice before Emily turns her attention to the speaker on the stage. Her head tilts as she listens, passively taking the speech in until the rhetorical question is asked. She simply lifts one hand, two fingers curled, and whistles sharply around them to show her agreement that a celebration is much better than miring in sadness.

Certifications for jobs are few and far between - mostly major things, like firefighters and paramedics have certifications. Service jobs like Bartender or Server used to require all sorts of serving certifications, clean food certifications, alcohol-certifications and the like, but here, if you could convince someone you could do the job and did it well, it was really easy to just get by. Look at Squeaks, after all, working here in the bar. Before the war, that wouldn’t happen, but now? If she can reach the tables, she probably can do the job. “Agent Quinn.” Cassandra gives a small salute and a smile, the glasses slipping before being pushed back up to hide her eyes with a fingertip. “I requisitioned this hour off three weeks ago, in triplicate. I’m fairly sure form 25-b is waiting on your desk for approval of the requisition of time off.” Teasing about bureaucracy - only in postwar America would that be a thing between the two SESA Agents. “Just a….hm…martini. Something classic, with Gin, not Vodka, if you can. If not…whatever you put in a glass in front of me. Two fingers worth.” She lifts a hand to indicate how much before settling back, watching Eve’s performance crescendo to completion.

When Robyn passes Cassie her drink and slips out from behind the bar, Cassandra’s applause finally comes, followed by a grin and a shake of her head. The secrets Robyn could tell about her past could fill volumes. This should be interesting.

The lady seer is given a real quick grin, kind like the one Emily got, but the arm and peck are leaned away from a little bit. Those things are weird, like real hugs, and Squeaks isn’t sure about them. “She’s going to help,” the younger sibling volunteers the older one. “Just not until after the party. More hands for cleaning up.”

Unsure of who’s worse off for the night — Jim or Cooper — Squeaks turns away from Hailey and Emily. She watches Eve and Sassy, kind of impassively. She’s probably seen similar conversations before, at least once but maybe more with the blank look she’s directing their way. Or maybe she’s just the guilty party for why they’re suddenly lacking cherries at the bar. Any of those reasons is possible.

“What’s a DMX,” the youngest of the three girls asks suddenly. She directs her question to Emily while giving Hailey a look.

"What…" Hailey is flabbergasted and simply white girls away from the duo. She can't even. Turning to Eve, she shakes her head, "Nope! I paid my twenty five bones to get in, not to work. Cleaning up is what you paid them for, not me." Nice try Squeakers, but this empath isn't going to get trapped.

Then she slides over toward Lynette and hops onto the stool next to her. "Hey!! Gunn Hill!!." It's been so many years that Hailey has grown from a pre-teen into a full fledged adult. Lynette still looks the same, only she's not smiling. "I heard you run the mental hospital now." Because she is sensitive like that. "Do you need therapy pets?"

“You know when I got my gold embossed invite with all those pretty swirly and loopy lettering they told me there was going to be a party. Nobody’s dancin’ on tables, nobody’s throwing back shots and all the fine people are on the stage, so I must be early.” Raquelle finally raises his voice as he slips his sunglasses into an inner pocket and spreads his arms. He approaches the bar and leans comfortably as he winks at the bartender. “As long as its alcoholic and as fabulous and fierce as I am, the pick is yours darling.” His eyes go to the stage and he nods slowly.

“My own niece leaving Our Lady in Squeak and myself to do the mundane tasks,” an over exaggerated wink is given to Hailey behind the cover of Eve’s hand along with the whisper, “Thanks for donating,” and then Eve is grinning at Squeaks, oh yes Hailey will be helping. After. If only had one of Hailey’s pets to keep hostage..

“Raquelle! My sweet, my darling! Don't look at my ends they’re a mess, no no I said do not.” Trying in vain to cover her hair the seer sweeps in to give Raq a kiss kiss on each cheek, leaning in as the dainty woman she can be. She's more than a murdering, singing, kooky seer. “Well I should say,” looking between Sassy and Raquelle. “Sass you know better than to look at a man whose taken like you're gonna devour his very soul from within. Down boy.

Whatever energy that was being sent Raquelle’s way seems to have been communicated only through eye flicks and eyebrow ticks, Sassy grows red at Eve’s intrusion to his homewrecking ways. “Are you the only wackado who gets to have fun around here!” A cold, strong daiquiri of some kind.

“I own this place so yes!”

There were many choices for memorial observances across the city. Nicole’s chosen this one, as it’s the one that, to her, most resembles a celebration of life. She’s done enough mourning and crying to last her a long while now.

There’s a familiar sensation in the air that the two electrokinetics share. It takes only a sweep of those too-bright blue eyes across the crowd for Nicole to confirm Lynette’s presence. Though whatever’s got the lights dancing in the sky has left her with an unsettled enough feeling in her bones that she’s second guessing her senses at times.

Nicole weaves her way through the crowd in her combat boots, leather pants and moto jacket over an old Depeche Mode tee shirt - a different sort of concert black. When her colleague announces that this is, in fact, a party, Nicole cheers loudly. She doesn’t quite have the energy she possessed as a teenager, but she can provide enthusiasm on cue for a friend. She makes her way toward the bar so she can grab a drink and slide up next to her bestie.

Lynette looks over at the mention of her former safehouse— it's been a while since she heard that name, but it still gets her attention. Her arms fold on the bar and she lifts an eyebrow as she listens to the young woman. "That's not exactly accurate," she comments, dryly. The question gets a smirk, though, and she shakes her head. "Perhaps. If they were trained by someone who knows the difference between a rehab center and a mental hospital." Really.

She glances toward the door when she senses Nicole entering. There's no gesture for her to join, but only because Lynette knows she will, and Nicole knows she's welcome. So she lifts her bag off the stool on her other side in time for Nicole to slide into it before anyone else can claim it.

Emily can't help but overhear Lynette's comment to Hailey, one that distracts her entirely from helping Squeaks out with the answer to her question. It's not often she hears anyone else around her say things that cut straight to the point as the non-alcoholic just has.

"A musician." she remembers to inform the younger teen, looking over to her before glancing down the rapidly-crowding bar. "Not sure it's your kind of genre."

A look back to Squeaks with a slowly growing frown additionally implies she's not sure this whole night is up her alley much longer. The scan over her shoulder had revealed her table was already claimed.

"I don't know who in the audience asked for it, but if we had DMX I think we'd be charging more than $25!" Robyn smirks to the crowd, trying her best to let a foreign nervousness creep into her voice - a feeling that is only amplified by knowing how foreign it feels to be nervous about being on stage.

"Maybe," she notes as an afterthought, chuckling again as she stalls to think for a moment.

"But I think you'll be pleased with the rest of our performers for the evening. Up next, we have Raquelle Cambria, and after that…" Robyn looks to the crowd, scanning it for sight of Raquelle. "Whenever you're ready, Raquelle, come on up and make our night even better!"

She claps, backing away as the mic as she does, implicitly ceding the floor to Raquelle to make his way up and get started. Slipping down off the side entrance from the stage, she slips quietly back into the crowd on the floor, taking a deep breath as she does.

Eyes land on Squeaks and Emily, and then over to Eve, Cassandra, Hailey and Lynette, and finally to Nicole. Seeing familiar faces in the crowd only exacerbated the anxiety she feels at the moment, but she'd known this would happen. New York, after all, is the tiniest city on Earth.

And honestly she wouldn't have it any other way. She'd just have to make sure to take a moment to find Adel and the others before it got too much later.

“Oh.” A musician is simple enough. Squeaks isn't so sure what her genre is or why this DMX musician wouldn't be it. It doesn't sound like any of those singers that did the loud and long songs in Italian. So probably she'll ask about it later. It's already put aside for now so she can wave at Raquelle.

“He's really primal,” The younger teen explains. She's still talking to Emily, unaware of the older girl’s concerns. “He has a hair place in the market and he does nails. Hands and feet. But. He's super nice too.”

Cassandra’s drink, whatever Robyn made her, is good and strong and not terrible, which a lot of bars tend to do when liquor is in short supply and people aren’t. She slips out of her seat now that she’s socially lubricated and migrates towards the stage, ending up around where Squeaks is questioning DMX and his contributions to early millennial music tastes. The mention of someone who does hair, hands, and feet does get her attention. A good stylist is impossible to find in the Safe Zone, and someone who manages to keep clients and have them advertise for him is someone Cassie should check out. Still, it’s magical that one of the tables near the front is staffed by one person who leaves and takes their drink with them, giving her and anyone who chooses to join her a good view of the stage, right in the middle of the action. “If you can get me the hairdresser’s contact information,” Cassandra calls to Squeaks. “He’ll have another customer.”

It's a whirlwind of flirtation, teasing, and appreciation really as Raquelle catches that look from Sassy and smirks gently with the barest lift of a of a well groomed eyebrow. Eve is greeted with a kiss to each cheek and a soft laugh as he flashes a grin. “Alright baby, I won’t look but I expect to see you in my chair sometime this week.” Then another look to Sassy. “Leave the poor thing alone…it's nice to know the pants are having the desired effect.” He blows a kiss and then waggles fingers to familiar faces, including Squeaks who gets her own blown kiss.

All of that however, may be obfuscation for the hint of trepidation, uncertainty and wtf that fills his bones when he hears his name being called. Raquelle is a ham, a shameless stage ho..but on such an auspicious day filled with so many memories, there’s the weight of reality on his back. The weight of dreams pushed to the wayside and his original life plan derailed to jump tracks onto one that’s taken him through so much. So much pain, so much joy and he knows others have gone to and through as well.

So he hears his name and he’s throwing back whatever drink found its way into his hands and giving little shimmy as he saunters towards the stage. He mouths a ‘thank you’ to Robyn before taking his place. Cupping his hand over his smokey eye accented peepers he scans the crowd and brings the microphone to his lips. “I am not a bald, vicious, beast of an MC covered in a delicious take me home and call me whatever you want daddy chocolate shell and drizzled with that life experience and heavy bars that would have any conjugal visit be a deeelight and an honor…” He waggles his eyebrows. “But! If you all can be satisfied with fabulously humble mochi and tres leches layered puffed pastry of a queen who’s gone through all six stages of both punk and goth…”

He trails off and slips a fan out of an inner pocket of that velvet tuxedo jacket and snaps the black lace accessory open to fan himself. “I’m suuure we can have a good time.” He lets his voice drop slightly. “And we aaare going to have a good time right?” He fans himself and holds the mic out towards those gathered, head cocked to the side like he’s listening.

"Oh, okay," Hailey replies to Lynette. There's a downcast tone to her voice but with a bit of effort, she pastes a wide smile to her face, delivers a couple of finger guns and a click of her tongue. "Good talk!" There is no way she's letting a Debbie Downer ruin the only memorial she's been able to attend.

So she slips away, back into the crowd. To the front. Right against the stage to listen to Robyn. "It's me! It's me!" She jumps up and down, waving to one of her former idols. "DMX! DMX!" If the crowd isn't cheerful enough, the empath is here to do all the cheering and whooping for them. She's not disappointed when Raquelle takes the stage "YES WE'RE GOING TO HAVE A GOOD TIME!!!"

Emily's humming under her breath for a moment at the question from the silvertongue on the stage, the memory of a lyric too strong to not get out of her system. She's wearing a hint of a smirk at his self-description, and claps her hands together loudly for her response. "He's something else." she replies to Squeaks by way of agreement. Afterward, she glances in the direction of the woman who'd just asked for Raquelle's information, smile vanishing. If the woman got a direct response from the girl sitting at the barstool, she'd be surprised. Emily, for her part, tilts her head as she looks Cassandra over skeptically.

“His name’s Raquelle,” Squeaks calls back at Cassandra, after giving her the briefest of vaguely suspicious squinty-eyes. “He’s the best ever for hair things in the Safe Zone.” She remembers the agent, and that snowy day that came with a free meal. Also the wanting her maps. But it doesn’t stop the faint distrust that’s usually directed at most grown-ups.

Leaning over again, the younger girl pitches her voice so probably only the older one can hear. “She’s See-Sah. I’ve seen her sometimes.” It’s neither a good or a bad thing, just a statement, things she decided her friend should know.

A few more slowly and thoughtful fans as he flashes a grin at the responses,snapping the fan closed and tucking it away as he gestures slightly. “Bring the lights down a bit baby…that’s it, right on me.” Raquelle clears his throat. “We know what today is. What it means to a lot of people. Young, old, male, female, gay, straight, bi, expressive, non expressive, healthy, ill…you name it. Like motherfuckin’ coal, we go through the crucible and come back out shining bright like diamonds.”

Raquelle bows his head for a moment, standing quietly just outside the spotlight, shadowed save for the occasional glint of sparkle from his attire. His voice, the broadway and stage training, the hint of theatrics needed to enhance the natural passion as he starts to weave a tapestry, singing softly.

“Empty spaces..what are we living for.
Abandoned places? I guess we know the score.
On and on..does anybody know what we are looking for?”

He steps into the light.

“Another hero, another mindless crime.
Behind the curtain in the pantomime.
Hold the line. Does anybody want to take it anymore?”

A quirk of an eyebrow before he hits the chorus hard. “The show must go on!”

It may not be Freddie Mercury, but dammit if Raquelle doesn’t pull it off. The See-Saa agent, as Squeaks helpfully pointed out, sits up a little straighter and cheers, setting down her half-finished drink and clapping her hands in time with the music coming over the PA system. “Yay!”

Oblivious to the exchange she's just missed, but not to the outcome of it, Nicole is quick to flash a brilliant smile to Lynette. And to order a gin martini. "Very dirty," she specifies. With that bit of formality out of the way, she reaches over and squeezes her friend's arm. "Hell of a show going on outside, huh?" A thumb is pointed back toward the door to indicate the aurora in the sky. "Haven't seen anything like that since…" Natazhat. Which is the opposite of comforting. But she's quick to shrug it off as though it were any random anecdote she nearly shared, not a traumatic event to relive. Just a comment on the weather.

"Pippa says hello," she relays, that smile returning to her face. "She saw me grab the jacket and asked if I was getting friendship pretty instead of work pretty." The other thoughts are put behind her. She's good at doing that on the surface.

As Raquelle performs, the crowd grows in sound and people. Lyrics being thrown back towards the performer, one woman is even whirling her bra around in the air tank top still on, the energy in the air grows to be more festive, more intoxicating.. just different then the other memorials taking place around the Safe Zone. Sassy at the bar pours a round of free drinks on the house for the entire place that gets a rather loud hoop and holler.

A pair of young men sit in the rafters, paid by Eve to operate the lights which change from vibrant purple to electric blue and stuttering to a crimson red. A fog machine spits out the smoky vapor at Raquelle's feet and the lighting finally settles on that electric blue hovering over Raquelle's figure and casting his silhouette on the curtains behind him. Pre rolled joints are passed through the crowd by a meek looking man who flinches when people refuse his offerings, Eve was sure it would be a hit. "For you?" Shoving two joints in the noses of Nicole and Lynette, he's pleading with his eyes, feel the love with him man. Feel the love.

Outside the crowd and line grow longer and the noise outside sounds as if people are partying outside as well as in, singing along to the music, sharing drinks and cannabis. Unified if they had never been before. This city had withstood the unthinkable on multiple occasions but somehow it still stands here and somehow it's people haven't deserted it.

"Louie! Listen honey Lady Zeus is on the wagon but if you hand it to the Duchess Scintilla," pointing at her eyes before pointing at Nicole's. "Have you enjoyed my presents to Agent Red Robyn? Hmmmm?" A wide manic grin crosses Eve's lips and her whole face grows with the excitement. "Everything's been legal but you'd know that!" She never sent a cake bomb thankfully but she was looking for non lethal ways to surprise the SESA office, oh what fun!

"SESA, huh?" Emily's brow ticks up for a moment in interest before her attention's drawn back to the stage. And how could it not be? Raquelle's performance is a root of excitement that makes the rest of the night … bearable. The man squirreling past with the joints earns a quick, odd look, but she takes the offering and curls it into her palm to hide it away into the small bag worn over her shoulder.

That might make for an interesting afterparty.

As Raquelle's performance comes to an end, Robyn is already back at the edge of te stage clapping. "Thank you Raquelle!" is a shouted out with an unexpected hollowness behind it. Offering him a weak smile, she makes her way over to the microphone, continuing to clap. As he makes his way off stage, she turns nervously back to the crowd gathered before her..

"Ah…" she starts uncertainly, seeming to freeze up on stage - a phenomenon that she had thus far managed to avoid throughout the night. So, of course it would come now, when she was supposed to introduce the night's last act. Except…

"Unfortunately, I'm afraid that- that brings the live entertainment portion of the evening to a close!" She shoots a look back to Eve at the bar, and then focuses on the crowd. "But of course, we're going to have music playing the rest of the night, so we expect everyone to get out here, dance, party, and live life to the fullest… in memory of those who no longer can."

As much as the night was about a more spirited, lively sort of memorial, that doesn't change the purpose and meaning behind it.

To laugh, love, and live… and to remember.

As Robyn Quinn makes her way off the stage, she's quick to disappear backstage. The party will go on, late into the night - and it'll be a hell of a time, that's for sure.

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