The Birth Of A Mad Muse


elaine_icon.gif magnes_icon.gif quinn_icon.gif sable_icon.gif

Scene Title The Birth Of A Mad Muse
Synopsis Quinn gets the group together for a hangout, they discover something uncomfortable about Magnes, and the band finally gets a name.
Date August 23, 2010

Gun Hill: Quinn's Flat

Tonight was a night for a fun time, Quinn has decided. To that end, she has decided that, now that her “date” with what turned out to be Kendall was over, it was time to unwind before she began a morning of part time job hunting, to fill the void left by her ejection from employment at Barnes & Noble. Yeah, she’d turned down Kendall for hanging out more, but the idea hadn’t hit until she was on the road down. And once she hit that first stoplight afterwards, a textmessage went out to two recipiants - Sable, Elaine, we’re hanging out. Sable, head to my room. Elaine, get ready. I’ll be by shortly to get you. And then a few minutes later, Magnes! Come hang out! I’m swinging by your place to get Elaine, you’re welcome to come!

Elaine had been scooped up, and upon arrival to Gun Hill. She had charged up teh stairs with the readhead in tow, throwing up the door to her apartment with a smile on her face. “Aaaah, good t’ be back home! Sable, you here?”

Of course she is. She's made herself right at home. Lounging on the couch, socked feet wiggling in place of a wave, she even has a beer balanced on her belly. She's got her hippy outfit on today, which may or may not mean she's partaken of herbal 'fun' - with those lenses on, it's hard to tell conclusively. Her grin could be this wide at their arrival without chemical aid.

"Come int' my parlor, y'all," she says, fingertips tapping malevolently against the glass of the bottle.

Promptly dragged in by Quinn, Elaine was more than happy to get out and keep everyone company. She peers over to the couch as she notes the wiggling feet, promptly moving over to see just how ticklish they are. "You know, that kinda stuff went out of fashion like, thirty years ago."

Magnes wasn't home when Quinn came by, and he was a bit anxious to hang out, so showed up at Quinn's place with a knock at the door directly from work. He's wearing a dark blue suit with a white buttoned up shirt and a black tie. He's holding a briefcase, looking very much like a g-man, which he sort of is, technically. "It's Magnes!"

Your parlour?” Quinn responds with mock indigence. “I suppose that means I get your room an’ all the stuff up there, hmm?” The Irishwoman grins Sable, moving to that she can sit on the edge of the couch, a smile on her face as she kicks off her sandals. “An’ that better not be my Guinness! I mean, I’ve already had three t’night, but that doesn’t mean I want you havin’ more a’ mine!” A glance up at Elaine, and a laugh. “She’s totally right, you know. You’re about 40 years too late for the hippie movement, sad t’ say. Look good in the glasses.”

And then Magnes enters, and her eyes are jolted to the door. “Holy shit, Magnes. I don’t think we can have you in the same room as Sable right now. The city might go up in smoke.” She laughs, shaking her head. “Glad you could come by.”

"It means I'm havin' y' f'r dinner," Sable says, drawing herself up into a proper sit and scooting back so her arm of the couch supports her back. She tips her glasses forward, revealing eyes that are clear - this is just an outfit, at least today. "'n' th' truth, Elaine darlin', never dies. This ain't fashion. This is a, like, priestly fuckin' garb. Whatever they're called, prob'ly got a special name. Quinn! Yer a papist, y' know right?"

Sable lofts her beer as Magnes enters. "Hark yee, a square!" she declares, and the way she handles the beer as she swigs it suggests the beer has gotten light. At her size, that means she's probably tipsy, or near-to.

"Sable, you are not a priest of any sort and I claim sacrilege on you." Elaine proceeds to flop down next to Sable. "Hope you didn't drink all Quinn's beer. Didn't have enough at your apartment? I thought I left some when I visited." Yeah, don't ask her how she managed to get ahold of that.

"I need to change, I brought a shirt and stuff in my case. I'll be back." Magnes heads into the bathroom, leaving his briefcase behind with its mysterious contents, then he can be heard changing.

“You were up at Sable’s an’ you didn’t call me?” Quinn says, looking up at Elaine with mock disbelief. “I feel so wronged!” She brings a hand to her forehead, leaning back in an exaggerated motion of offense, laughing as she finishes. “An’ vestments, I think is what you’re lookin’ for, Sable.” She chooses to leave the other comment for now, lest they get Magnes riled up. “Soon as Magnes gets back out here, I’ve got a surprise Sable an’ I put t;gether for you an’ Magnes,” Quinn notes, looking back at Elaine, even as she leans down and kisses Sable on the top of her head. “Just be sure t’ buy me some more, dear.”

"Vestments!" Sable says, pointing at Quinn, finger braced against the bottle's neck, "I like that word. I'm usin' it from here on out." Another swig, and this soldier is dead. She sets the bottle aside, pulling her legs into a cross and slipping her arms around Elaine in a hug. She peeks around Elaine at Magnes as he disappears, then looks back to Quinn. She beams as she's kissed. "'course, fair lady. Anythin' y' ask." Sable bumps her head against Elaine's shoulder. "Don't get too excited, though. Just a little somethin', y' know?"

Elaine makes a face. "I was at Sable's a few days ago. It's not the same!" She pauses. "Then again, she could've finished off all those beers in the span of a few days…" Elaine blinks a little, then peers intently at Quinn. "What the hell? You just gave me a surprise with that book, and now you've cooked up something else? Seriously, what the heck is with people being so damn nice to me all the time. You'd think with how evil I am you'd all learn better." She leans her head to rest atop Sable's. She glances back towards the bathroom. "Kinda weird seeing him in a suit." She giggles. "Then again, I think I prefer that to Sable's look. No offense, Sable."

Quinn slips down off the armrest and on to the sofa proper; sidling up close to Sable, close enough to hook an arm around her waist. “It’s nothing like that. I’m too short on cash for anything like that, an’ with how things are lately, I don’t think you have t’ worry about it for a while.” She says that with a big of a frown, and a somewhat dejected sigh, before shaking her head and letting a smile return. “This is still pretty fun, though. I’m hopin’ you both like it, but particularly Magnes. This oe’s from both me an’ Sable anyway.”

Sable smiles as she releases one arm from Elaine and reaches back to rub against Quinn's side. Her eyes close in momentary contentment, before the actual words being spoken reach comprehension and she's spurred into response. "Offense sorely taken," she snarks, eyes peeking open in a squint at Elaine, "I know yer game. Y' only care f'r me oh-naturale," ouch, butchering the 'French', and in front of the omnilinquist, too, "'n' Quinngirl, I ain't got shit when it comes t' cash mostly, but I'll tighten m' belt if y' need something, stop buyin' grass 'n' pass that cash on t' you 'stead."

Magnes' reappearance and the concurrent appearance of the BOOK makes Sable get crafty. There is a brief struggle in Sable's mind over whether or not she should make mention (announce) it, a struggle that leans towards 'no' until Magnes makes his own little announcement. "I flashed 'im t' assist him in th' lifelike renderin' 'f my rack," she states smoothly, amending Magnes' statement, "f'r that," she points at the manuscript for MWL, "which I think y'all are in, too."

Yellow eyes rise to Magnes, baleful.

"Well, I dunno what kind of mischief both you and Sable could get into as far as surprises." Elaine points out, as she peers to Quinn. She winces horribly at Sable's butchering of the word, then she looks to Magnes. She peers at him. "I've done every single person in this room. So I win. No one's giving you a trophy, Magnes." But there's a notebook. And Sable mentions something about her boobs and that notebook. "What, you've got pictures of our boobs in there?" That's the conclusion Elaine draws, scrambling over the top of the couch suddenly to try and get to the notebook.

When Sable makes her offer, Quinn looks at her with a warm smile, rewarding the offer with a nuzzle. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. Between a friend a’ mine at work, Ygraine, an’ mum, I don’t think I’ll need. I’ll definitely keep it in mind, though.” She intends to keep her head rested up against Sable, but Magnes’ reappearance, and the placement of this unusual book make that rather hard, ehr attention drawn to them rather quickly.

She’s quiet at first as banter is exchanged, just blinking and looking surprised. It’s Elaine who gets her to chime in, though. “Oh, yeah, I think she’s got you there, Magnes. AN’ she fantastic in bed, while showin’ you my breasts didn’t really do much for me, so…” She giggles, shaking her head, a glance over at Sable. “When you’d show him yours anyway?” She doesn’t wait for an answer before turning attention to the book, peering at it. “What do you mean, we’re in it? Has he been drawin’ out breasts?” And then her eyes widen. “Has he been writing’ stuff with us?!” She shoots a glance up to Magnes, incredulous. “Boy, I knew you had t’ get it somehow, but that’s kinda… out there.”

"I think I'd know how good Elaine is, we do it like twice a day." Magnes isn't paying attention when Elaine suddenly grabs the book before he can get to it. "Wait!" He reaches out in an attempt to grab it back, but he's been working all day and had a weekend of being utterly lazy, except for the masculine hunting/chopping stuff, not exactly in tip top superhero shape.

"Uh… 'bout yesterday, wasn't it?" Sable says, answering Quinn's question casually like, you know, no big deal. She glances to Magnes for confirmation, like maybe he'd remember for sure and, to be fair, it may have been a bigger event for him than her. The book is what she remembers. She's been curious about Japanese schoolgirl vocalization since. She doesn't really trust the websites she's checked, though. Not sure any of those girls were really schoolgirls. So it may take some more hands-on research. So passes Sable's idle time, in idle thoughts.

"'n' Jesus, boy, don't give a lady's details out like that in a group-type settin'!" Sable scolds Magnes, "that ain't no way t' behave, for shame! Have some fuckin' charm 'n' grace." This coming from the expert in both those qualities.

"Sable's right, sheesh, don't gotta tell everyone what our sex life is like. I mean, what would you do if I went around blabbing all the awkward questions you ask?" Elaine points out, but she's got a firm grip on the notebook, ducking out of the way as she moves around to be on the opposite side of the couch from Magnes. She promptly opens the notebook to somewhere she sees writing and peers at it. "These aren't pictures, they're…" And she trails off. Cause she's reading.

Quinn clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “And that’s fair, because you’d just get off knowin’ anything about us,” Quinn remarks with an air of mock seriousness. “I think you need t’ get revenge, Elaine.” It’s when she looks over to make that statement that she realises that Elaine is reading. “Oh, Christ, he is writing about us? Jesus, I was just making a joke!” Quinn reaches over and grabs a pillow, hurling it across the room at Magnes. “What the hell, man?” Granted, it’s said with a laugh, but a question is a question.

"Alright alright, I get it, just don't tell them anything…" Magnes walks to the couch so he can plop down near Sable, watching Elaine with a bit of a nervous look. As she skims, she'll see all sorts of things about milky thighs, awkwardly written Quinn/Sable sex scenes, Delilah shotgun wielding, Eileen's flexibility, and of course, Magical Princess Lass. "Don't read it out loud at least…"

Sable's already read about as much as she has dared. She doesn't tend to find much anything awkward as such, but the weird mix of a (sort of?) flattering rendition of herself and the… just… weirdness of Magnes' real life fanfic combine to produce in Sable a kind of discomfort that she isn't used to. It's the feeling like she doesn't know what she's supposed to feel or do, but isn't angry-confused. So it's a sort of novel feeling.

And doesn't all great art make us think? Make us feel new, rich emotions?

"Hey, man's gotta get his jollies somehow, eh?" Sable says, defending Magnes despite the fact she is keeping herself from trying to read over Elaine's shoulder. "Worse ways, surely."

"Jesus Christ, Magnes, you're writing porn!" Elaine flips through, glancing between Magnes, and now to Quinn. "And that is not how lesbians do it." She's staring at the words. "What the crap is with—" That's when she chokes on her own words. "I'm a Magical Girl!?"

Suspicions confirmed, Quinn is immediately looking around the room eagerly. “Where’s my bag, I need my lighter,” she remarks almost casually, before glancing back at the others. “What the ‘ell is a magical girl?” She blinks, looking at Sable. “You’re awfully calm about this. I mean… I guess it’s no worse than him thinkin’ about it, but it’s… weirding me out a little.”

"No one was supposed to see it! I just…" Magnes hunches a little, arms resting over his knees. "Sometimes when I get tired of life, I just… write stuff, and I feel a little better. It makes things easier to just get it out of my system, live things I can't normally live. And, I like the idea of dating a magical girl, and you'd make a cute one…"

Elaine stares at the book for a moment. "Well, I'm sorry I'm no Sailor Moon." The notebook is shut, and she offers it back to Magnes after a moment. "That's the most embarrassing thing I've ever read, though, so you probably should keep it locked up in your work room if you gotta work out your weird frustrations somehow. I suppose it's better than you actually going out and doing these things…"

"Like th' man ain't gonna look at porn 'r watch it 'r whatever, y'know?" Sable says, coming to Magnes' defense, "'t least that shit's creative. 'n' funny!" She gives a big grin, pushing down her own sort of odd feelings of uncertainty in favor of propping up Magnes, "plus we're all 'f us super bangin' 'n' killer awesome in bed in there so, like… hardly 'n' insult." She gives Magnes a thwap on the back, "nothin' weird 'bout wantin' t' bang all the fine ladies that walk through his life, far as I c'n tell. I mean, Jesus, look at them! Look at us!"

Quinn’s first instinct when she sees the book being passed is to grab it and chuck it out the window. Better sense wins out, though, and clearly Magnes needs this for… whatever reason. The impulse to grab it and read it comes and goes even quicker, Quinn feeling her stomach turn a little at the notion. “Sorry, Magnes, I didn’t mean t’ freak out on you.” She slides up against Sable, and chuckles. “I know, but it’s kinda like him watchin’ porn of us.” She laughs, waving a hand dismissively. “But sable’s right! Can’t blame you with folks like the rest of us around. I’m curious t’ what the rest of it is, but I’m not sure my heart can take it.” She blinks, looking between Magnes and Elaine. “What’s a magical girl?” she repeats.

"Are you mad at me, Elaine? It's just… it's nothing to do with not being happy, it's just how I escape. And if you're wondering why I don't use you to escape, it's 'cause I don't wanna cheapen what we have and do together, unless you're dressed like Batgirl." Magnes takes the book and slams it shut, sighing in relief. "If you have a computer, I can show you what a magical girl is."

"Not mad… it's just.." Elaine scratches her head, not really responding as she looks back to Quinn. "They're like superheroes, usually they're magic, though, and they can transform into their costume with some magical sequence. And they're usually wearing ridiculously frilly outfits and there's usually more than one of them… they tend to travel in odd numbered groups." She tries to think of anything else she's forgetting.

Sable loops both her arms around Quinn and sets a small kiss on her cheek before snuggling a little closer, legs tugging up and curling beneath her. She wiggles her nose to walk her big purple glasses back up to cover her eyes entirely. "Think you'd look good in frills, darlin'," Sable says, grinning at Elaine, "and yer magic enough t' me. Now if there were just more 'f y'!" Her brows waggles. Her eyes sneak over to Magnes, checking on how he's doing, the consequences of her indiscretion - she'd feel badly if she caused him real trouble. This is part of why vengeance is best served cold, so that it can be doled out in proper serving size.

“Uh… huh.” That’s Quinn’s only response to Elaine’s description of what a magical girl is. “Uh, you’ve totally seen my computer, Magnes. It’s back in the music room, along with the electronic drum kit I know you haven’t seen yet. Which is why you need t’ come by more often. But really, I think I’ fine. Don’t really want t’ get up.” A smile is flashed over to Sable, and she shrugs. “Frills are… friss. Kinda weird on clothes. I think I only really like ‘em on some shirts an’ the frilly lace dresses an’ skirts I see at work sometimes.” The surprise they had for the other has been completely forgotten now.

"I think I have a few Sailor Senshi costumes around in our apartment somewhere. But come on, let me show you." Magnes stands up and starts heading to the music room, motioning for them to follow. "We're going to watch an episode of Sailor Moon!" he announces, raising a fist in the air.

"Oh, God." Elaine shrinks into the couch, hugging her knees. "No, because then everyone will imagine me looking like that!" She clings to Sable, who happens to be the closest, peering over at her and Quinn. "Don't do it! Don't fall into his trap!"

"Aw, see, I gotta see this," Sable says, pressing a kiss to Elaine's cheek, then Quinn's, before sliding out from between both of them, padding after Magnes and giving the other girls a wicked grin as she goes. "Y'all gonna come defend yerselves? 'cause don't think yer free from th' rovin' 'f my mind, Quinn. Y'v never been safe from that, hon, from when I first laid eyes 'pon you."

“I’m with Elaine on this one. Besides, Magnes, Sable an’ I have somethin’ for you anyway. An’ not what you’re thinkin’, before your mind joins her in the gutter or somethin’.” Quinn eyes the two carefully, shaking her head. “I’ll get it set up while you guys go check out this video or whatever.”

"You set it up, we're gonna watch Sailor Moon!" Magnes heads into the music room and immediately goes on the internet. He searches for a bit, but eventually finds a random episode of Sailor Moon. He finds one with all the different ones, when there were way more than five, so there's lots of transformation sequences to watch! Quinn has a good 24 minutes to set up while attacks are called, crazy anime antics are had, and pure hearts are returned!

Following Magnes and Sable reluctantly, Elaine whimpers every time something gets ridiculous. Which is a lot. "God, I forgot how horrifyingly saccharine these things are. Blech!"

Sable is a guttersnipe in any number of ways, but it is well beyond her power to eroticize Sailor Moon at this late stage in her life. Maybe if she had watched it when she was younger, earlier in her libidinal development, more hormonal (only when she was younger, she would have put a rock through the television if this were playing, no joke). As it is, Sable mostly just gapes at the escapades of Moon and her fellow Sailors. Add to this the fact that, taken out of all context, the show's tropes make no goddamn sense whatsoever (Tuxedo Mask? Really?), and Sable emerges from the viewing looking more perplexed and sparkle-shocked than anything else. Rubbing her eyes to get the shoujo out of them, she looks around desperately for Quinn.

"Gimme a rock 'n' roll antidote, darlin', 'cause I'm hurtin' somethin' terrible!" Sable says, before glancing back over her shoulder at Magnes, "y'all got off on that? Fuckin' boys, man. What's with y'all?"

Quinn’s been sitting on the couch through the entire display, she had no real desire to actually watch this “Sailor Moon” – Elaine’s description had been enough to turn her off to the idea, and for now she was content with maybe looking it up on Wikipedia later. But when people start remerging from her music room, she perks up and looks back over the back of the couch. “Can do Sable, if you all are quite done.” She quirks an eyebrow, holding up a silver remote in her hand, different from the one she keeps for the TV or DVD player. “So, like, Magnes, remember how I sent you that text the other day? About that songwriting exercise? Well, Sable an’ I put together what we hand,w ith the music we worked out, and used my drum machine t’ put together a really rough demo, since Sable thinks we should all write some things in our respective styles, to help us blend them together. Wanna hear it?”

"Hey, if they weren't like fifteen, they'd be hot!" Magnes says as he places an arm around Elaine's waist, then heads out to take a look at what Quinn has set up. "Whoa, really? That's awesome. I'm still working on mine…" He starts watching, waiting to hear the results.

Elaine glances to Sable. "Told you it was bad!" She leans in against Magnes, then peers towards Sable and Quinn. "What, music?" She grins. "Oh, that's awesome!" She looks intently at the two. "Lets hear it. I'm waiting to be mystified."

Sable vaults over the back of the couch and lands next to Quinn, slipping both her arms around the the Irishwoman, grinning broadly up at her. "It ain't over 'til it's over, hon," she says, "I don't settle f'r less than completion." She cricks her neck, "Let 'em hear it! We'll show 'em how it's done."

“Yeah, it’s really rough. But I think it sounds pretty good. Just kinda peters out at the end, we still need a new bridge.” Quinn raises the remote and hits it, activating the CD player sitting ogg in the corner, speakers pulled up to either side of the TV. A disc whirls inside, Quinn slipping an arm around Sable. “I wrote the verses, Sable did the chorus, an’ we worked together on the music. Still needs a bridge, a more solid bassline, and real drums, though.”

With that, a bass and drums intro begins to emanate from the speakers, a simple bassline as promised, but a catchy and effective one backed by a thumping bass drum in time with a digitized snare drum, and just as the lyrics start up, electronic keyboard kicks in, forming a quick paced backing track alongside a signature rock riff, still driven by that bassline. It sounds rough, very rough, and certainly unmastered, but there is a degree of polish applied to it by Quinn with the aid of the few programing and production programs she has on her computer.

Burnin’ up like a big bright sun

Floating down from outer space

Tell me that I’m all yours

The brightest star in all the sky

//Lighting up the atmosphere //

Drive me wild with your pulse

Not caring for the ground

Burnin’ out, only ashes still remain

And then the chorus kick in, Quinn tapping her feet along with a smile on her face, a grin offered over to Sable. The tempo changes slightly and the beat rather dramatically, signalled by a “thwack thwack” of those digitized snare drums.

What I am, can't be without you

There's no future I can see without you

Don't matter how many tears I cry

My wings are clipped, I'll never fly


Like a fairy tale on the wind

In and out of my worn mind

Tell me now what you saw

Losing control of what I feel

Falling down all around us

Pushed too far, breaking down

Collapsing to the ground

Fade away, ashes still remain

What I am, can't be without you

There's no future I can see without you

Don't matter how many tears I cry

My wings are clipped, I'll never fly


The song continues on from there, music without lyrics for about a minute, and it just feels unfinished listening to it. When it fades, Quinn looks around with a smile, waiting for a response from the rest.

"That is amazing!" Magnes says with wide eyes, nodding his head very quickly as he leans over to give Elaine a light kiss on the cheek. "I have to finish my part now! This will be, like, our hit!" He seems very enthused, probably the most Sable has seen of him when it came to the band.

"God, that's really good. I wanna hear more." Elaine laughs, hugging on Magnes a bit. "It's kind of awesome. I kinda feel privileged to know you guys before you get famous and are too busy rocking out to do much of anything else."

Sable looks pleased as punch as the music unfurls from the speakers. Critical though she is during the process (though her deep affection for her current bandmates limits the extent of her tyranny), during the presentation of product, she is almost always proud. Kicking ass before hand means patting ass after. She presses a big kiss to Quinn's cheek at the end of the first verse. "Yer a wonder," she informs Quinn, softly, so as not to disturb the rendition. When the song is over, she hooks her free arm over the back of the couch and grins at Magnes and Elaine, "Damn fuckin' straight," she says, "we're gonna rule th' world, mark my goddamn words. 'n' just imagine how sweet it'll be once m' boy puts in his bit! T'gether, friends 'n' lovers… t'gether we're gonna be fuckin' unstoppable!"

Quinn looks a bit surprised by the enthusiastic response – to her, this is just a really rough cut, hardly something worthy of praise or analysis. A sampling, at best. But it brings a smile to her face regardless.”I’m glad you guys like it! I figure we can take t’ another song in that manner an’ see what kinda lyrics we come up with. It’s a fun way t’ write a song, I think. An’ a bit less stressful than doin’ it all on one’s self like I’ve done in the past, an’ a lot of other bands do. There is still one, like… really important thing, though.” She stands up and marches to the the front of the TV, turning back to face the others as though she’s about to lecture them.

This just became an impromptu band meeting.

“We need a name,” she states simply. “I was thinking we should wait until we had a definite sound first, but every time the band comes up, the first thing they ask me is ‘what are you guys called’, and when I just kinda stare at them I feel stupid. So, we need t’ fix that.” One finger gets pointed up, as if counting points. “Secondly, we now have two options on how t’ handle things once we get recorded. Cat’s offering us recording space, an’ willing t’ back a label and get us goin’. But Lynette an’ Toby… they know a guy out west. Apparently he runs some kinda hip hop label, but he knows people. I’m already handin’ over a demo I record several years ago, but this is somethin’ we need t’ think about.”

"I trust Cat, she's kind of a genius. I'd go with her any day." Magnes states his opinion without any real hesitation, an arm brushing up and down Elaine's for a brief few moments. "And, for a name, well… I like Cats on Parade!"

"Brilliant. Seriously." Elaine looks between the three of them, giving a bit of a nod. "Well, I'm no official member of the band, but you can count on me to be the number one groupie and pass you water bottles and shit while you guys rock out on stage. Seriously, you'll make it big someday." She nods in agreement with Magnes. "Cat's pretty awesome. She gave me a Russian-English dictionary and was talking about some of the languages she was learning." She looks back to Magnes. "Kinda sounds a little nerdy, though. I kinda get this image of like… little animated cats with like marching band instruments…" She giggles. "Don't you guys want a more.. serious?"

Sable listens to the different opinions, the different options, the single name suggestion, all in silence, all with a quirk lipped thoughtfulness that, with her furrowed brow, looks almost like unhappiness. But it's not, it's just the uncertainty that precedes decision. Sable's even tapping her chin with he forefinger. She lifts herself up to perch on the arm of the couch, turning so she can address all three other occupants of the room.

"I'd rather us have our own label, even if it's small-like," Sable states, "Ain't a shame t' mebbe get some help with production, 'n', like, publicity, but I want this t' be our own, like, thing. 't least at first, while we're still figurin' out who we are, y'know? So we don't get told b'fore we know."

Her arms folds across her chest and she rocks back and forth a little. "As t' th' name, it's gotta communicate somethin' 'bout us, 'n' I fear it'll be pretty hard t' convince me that 'Cats on Parade', like, represents my particular vision, dig? It's a time 'f troubles, 'n' New York at th' heart 'f it. We gotta be relevant. Political, like. I want us t' be agitators, dig?"

"I trust Cat too. A lot." Quinn says with a nod of her head, beginning to pace a little. "But… I don't actually know what connections she has t' the industry, it's somethin' I'd need t' ask her. Sending work off to someone with connections could mean a lot, you never know. I think it's somethin' work looking into, you know." She stops, turning to face Magnes with a bit of a frown. "Cats on Parade sounds lie a kids band, or some really poppy band. I don't mind it, honestly, but I don't think it'll fit anythin' we're tryin' t' make, you know?" A nod is given to Sable, Quinn moving to retake her seat beside Sable, an arm wrapped around her midsection.

"My thought was 'Delierum Dreamer'" she notes with a smirk. "An' if you have any ideas Elaine, feel free t' share 'em. You're an important part a' this too, as far as I'm concerned." Quinn taps her foot, looking thoughtful. "It doesn't have t' be decided today, but it needs t' be thought about an' picked soon, now that we're all t'gether and able t' work on it."

"I don't know, I mean I like it, but Delirium Dreamer sounds a bit… down. I think we should try to make something serious, but that jumps out at you too. Like Ghosts in the Machine." Magnes suggests, arm squeezing Elaine in as he genuinely enjoys the creative process.

Elaine seems to seriously take a think to the idea of a name for the band. "Well, I like the name 'Clockwork Garden', but that's not quite your guys' thing." She nods at Magnes. "That one's not bad. I was thinking something like 'Adjacent Velocity'." There's a pause, and she considers Sable's idea of a political name, something charged. "Well, you could go with something relevant that means something to people… like, 'Denizens of Midtown'."

Again, Sable keeps her 'serious business' face on for almost the whole time, breaking only to give Quinn a fond smile and slip down from the arm of the couch to get a bit closer. Afterwards, though, Quinn is half-hugging a very pensive little rocker. Each name is received and considered with that rarest of expressions on Sable: impassivity. Quinn's seen it this clearly only once before, during her audition. Sable has the power to restrain her expression, but only when it is a matter of deepest principle - impartiality is, in this case, the emotion she must feel.

"Gettin' this mechanical vibe from y'all," Sable says, at length, "Clockwork… Machine… Velocity… 'n' a spiritual-type deal… Ghosts… Dreamer… I dig the spiritual, but dunno 'bout the mechanical… that's not how I do things. Now, I'm from Atlanta, 'n' Quinn here's from Ireland, so I dunno 'bout claimin' some sorta New York type deal, but I agree that we gotta 't least hint at us bein' after somethin' bigger. So, like, we're from all over, eh? So how's 'bout… 'City Crossroads', 'r, like, 'Compass Rose'? Dunno 'bout those, but I'm tryin' t' give us a direction here, eh? This is about a time 'f change, a time t' see 'bout new paths, makin' th' right choices, 'stead 'f the wrong ones we keep makin'."

"ANd Ghost in the Machine doesn't sound down? An' kinda cliche? I'd be surprised if there isn't someone out there usin' that name already, t' be honest. You know, Deus ex Machina an' all that." She remembers a bit from her Writing clases, at least! Quinn looks thoughtful, a bit of a grimace on her face at the indecision the group is faced with. "Clockwork Garden sounds like a good album title," she notes, a smile given over to ELaine. She thinks for several moments, tapping her foot. "We canc ombine elements a' names. "Dreamers of Midtown", for instance. 'ROse Ghost'." At this point, Quinn's just throwing out ideas.

"Ghosts in the Machine, plural! But I don't know, Ghosts at the Crossroads, or maybe our name can be an entity. Like… Youth Beast. Oh, Dystopian Warlords, or…" Magnes shrugs, really trying to give it some thought. "I still like Serpentera…"

"I like 'Dreamers of Midtown'. Kinda a cool idea. What about 'Midtown Crossroads'? You know, the bomb was a huge changing point in people's lives… I like the crossroads image. Sable, you're getting pretty profound there. I think we need to booze you up more. You do good thinking that way." Elaine teases, tapping her chin.

Sable points at Elaine. "Midtown Crossroads," she echoes, "That I'm feelin'. If it ain't that, then somethin' like it. 'n' crossroads 'r spiritual place too. Things come t'gether, crucial fuckin' choices get made. Souls 'r' wagered, dig?" She looks to her comrades, each in turn. "How're we feelin' 'bout it? Biddin's still open, but we gotta settle on somethin', dig?"

"Midtown Crossroads sounds like an album name," QUinn remarks with anoher grin. "But I think I can get behind that as a band name too. Some people might think it's a bit presumptuous, but… I think I can live with that." A nod is given to Elaine, and a look over to Magnes. "You the third big piece a' this pie, Magnes. What do you think a' that?" SHe feels a bit bad, first recording a demo without him, and now setting aside his suggestions for band names.

"I definitely think we have something with the Crossroads part, don't know about Midtown. Seems obvious, I guess? But I like the spiritual thing." Magnes looks down at the floor in thought, then lifts his head up to Sable and Quinn. "There's lots of potential, like, Clash at the Crossroads, The Devil's Crossroads, though I don't know about that. Epiphany at the Crossroads, uhh, Wayward Crossroad… Phantom Strangers?" He throws the last one out of left field.

"Yeah, could be obvious. Crossroads is good… you could go play and go with just Crossroads." Elaine leans against Magnes a bit as she tries to think. "Hmm… and Phantom Strangers is good… but I'm not quite set on it… I like the Strangers part of it…" Her face lights up. "How about Impending Strangers? Cause, y'know, stranger rhymes with danger…" She shrinks back down. "Okay, well, I think it sounds cool."

Sable grins at Elaine, craning her neck as she shrinks away. "Don't play coy, gal. Y' know how cute y' are. Don't think yer foolin' anyone here," she says, tipping her a wink. But back to business… Sable quirks her lips. "'Beautiful Strangers' 'r' 'Well Dressed Strangers'? I'm riffin' on th' devil at the crossroads here, dig?"

"I'm sure there's a band called Crossroad already," Quinn says with a frown and a sigh. "An' I can't say I'm a fan a' any of those Stranger ones." She looks rather unhappy as the indecision continues. "Coming up with a name isn't usually easy, but there's got t' be something we can agree on. The only other ones I had in mine ahead a' time were Delierium Theory an' On A Sunday, neither of which seems t' fit with what anyone else wants."

"I like Devil at the Crossroads too, or, Crossroad Theory… The Crossroad Effect? Sorry, science geek…" Magnes snickers, trying very hard to put a good name together. "What about that name we thought of, before we met Quinn? Colette liked it. Generation E?"

"You could go with a combination again 'Strangers at the Crossroads' or something like that." Elaine suggests. "Mm… you could go with 'On A Crossroad'…" She heaves a sigh. "This is pretty hard, you know… but Crossroad Theory is kind of good."

Sable gives a huff, "This fuckin' struggle," she says, "b'tween soundin' cool 'n' soundin', like, relevant, 'n' like… Christ knows. We're bein' too abstract. We gotta think 'f somethin' that's mebbe a bit more grounded. Somethin' we share, all 'f us. A place, a time… somethin'. 'cause in the end it won't matter. Think 'f th' Beatles, Christ, what kinda name is that? Terrible fuckin' pun. But it don't matter what they're called now 'cause now th' Beatles just mean The fuckin' Beatles, dig?"

"Name does matter," Quinn says, looking over at Sable with a frown. "A distinctive name came go a long way. It doesn't have t' be great, but it helps." SHe shrugs. "No one said it has to be abstract, hell, all a' my choices were just things I thought sounded neat. Just somethin' we all like. Lots of bands change names beore they hit it big. I happen t' like Crossroad Theory, though."

"Plus Five Against Oppression." Magnes randomly throws out, making another geek reference as he proceeds to explain. "Like how in D&D, you can have a weapon and then it can have a bonus against a certain enemy, like a plus four or something like that." He points to the screen, adding, "Our music is the weapon, and it has a plus five against oppression!"

Elaine promptly puts a hand over Magnes' mouth. "Nope, nope, he did not just suggest you make yourself a nerd band." She leans in to Magnes, stage whispering. "Pretend it was a joke and I think they might not lynch you." She giggles, then peers back to Quinn and Sable. "I'm voting for Crossroad Theory, though. It's kinda cool. Or we could go really simple and uncomplicated. If we're going like the Beatles we could just be some random word. Heck, your band could be called 'Some Random Word'."

"Nerd rock has its place," Sable will allow, able to be gentle since Elaine is acting as enforcer, "but that ain't in my band. When our egos get real fuckin' big and we all have t' do solo projects, y' just hold ont' that name f'r yerself, dig?" She bites her lip. So far that's two votes for Crossroad Theory. Her own support could tip the scales. It would bring them close to resolution. She nods. "If Crossroad Theory's what folks like, I ain't gonna object. Like I said, I'm hopin' we'll be big 'nuff in th' end that it won't hardly matter."

Quinn looks over at Sable, quirking an eyebrow. "Don't be afrad t' give a better suggestion," she remarks, having caught that bite of her lip."I really don't care what our name is, as long it's somehting I understand." A loo is given over to Magnes, who had totally lost her with his last suggestion. "I just want it t' be somethin' we all like."

"If it works for you guys, I like it." Magnes agrees, randomly raising a hand to slip a finger under Elaine's necklace. He doesn't look at it too often, and it seems to randomly have his attention. "So we all good on that?"

"Everyone needs to be sure. I mean, I think it's a big deal." Elaine leans her head in against Magnes, letting out a sigh. "Cause that'll end up on t-shirts and shit like that and you have to remember there will be chicks with that name plastered across their boobs."

Sable rises to a stand, one foot on the couch cushion, the other stationed dramatically on the back of the couch, a hand on her hip. Her eyes move from person to person in the room, fixing them each with a significant look. "What gets me hung up is this theory business," she says, adding contention where before she was leaning towards certainty. Elaine makes a crucial point involving boobs, and Sable is not one to ignore such a powerful line of argumentation, "Crossroads arready means uncertain-like. We're makin' a statement. Let's be bold, dig? Quinn," she points at the Irish girl with a commanding figure, "gimme somethin' strong. A strong word y' think'd go well in th' place 'f 'Theory'."

Sable rises to a stand, one foot on the couch cushion, the other stationed dramatically on the back of the couch, a hand on her hip. Her eyes move from person to person in the room, fixing them each with a significant look. "What gets me hung up is this theory business," she says, adding contention where before she was leaning towards certainty. Elaine makes a crucial point involving boobs, and Sable is not one to ignore such a powerful line of argumentation, "Crossroads arready means uncertain-like. We're makin' a statement. Let's be bold, dig? Quinn," she points at the Irish girl with a commanding figure, "gimme somethin' strong. A strong word y' think'd go well in th' place 'f 'Theory'."

"Uh…" Quinn seems rather lost at this proclmation, tilting her head. "I don't see what's so bad about the word Thoery. Worked fine for The Juliana Theory," she notes with a raise of a finger. She quirks her lips and slumps down a bit, thinking. "Um… I dunno." Commanding, strong words aren't exactly what springs to mind when she things about things like this. At least not the kind she thinks Sable's looking for.

"Smashing the Crossroads, Crossroad Revolution, War at the Crossroads…" Magnes lists a few, to get the juices flowing for everyone. "Too bad I'm not a girl, we could have a cool girl band name, like Damsels of Distress."

Focus, Elaine. Focus! So they're going with something about a crossroad. What could go with it? "Crossroads Danger… Crossroads Cynicism… Across the Crossroads…? Lucid Crossroads, Crossroad Tolls, Broken Crossroads, Crossroads of Destiny, Crossroads of Love…" She scratches her head. "Crossroads Custodians. I don't know, this is getting hard!"

"Hey, we ain't th' Juliana Theory. With no fuckin' offense intended," Sable says tipping her head to Quinn, "but I ain't gonna try and play tyrant, I like 'n' respect y'all too much," she cracks a small smile, "I'll save primma donna bullshit f'r when we're more successful," a joke, we hope, "'n' don't worry Magnes, we'll f'rgive y' yer failin's. Arright… so… I like Broken Crossroads pretty well, but it does sound sorta… album-title-like. Goddammit why's this gotta be hard? If this was just a song, y'know, we'd all just add our own thing…"

“That’s not what I meant, I’m just sayin’…” Quinn wrinkles her nose, slouching in her seat a bit. “Broken Crossroads is kinda depressing. People will automatically think we’re either some nu metal band or an emo band. That doesn’t really bother me, but I dunno about you guys.” The Irishwoman shrugs. “What about Midnight Crossroads. Or Meeting at Crossroads? Finding somethin’ with the oomph you want is kinda hard, Sable.”

Magnes, starting to anxiously drum the fingers hanging from Elaine's shoulder against her arm, briefly closes his eyes and massages his forehead. "Something with oomph, with Crossroads. I'd still say something like Battle at the Crossroads, or, hell, Crossroad Apocalypse."

"Okay. So I'm thinking something more positive tied to the crossroads would work better… so that we've got the 'rar i'm making you think' thing with the crossroads, and then something that makes you feel good or decent at the beginning of it. A positive tone." Elaine seems thoughtful. "What about something like Victory at the Crossroads?"

"Naw, 'cause then it's a done deal," Sable says, folding her arms and shaking her head, "Can't be victory 'cause we ain't hardly fuckin' victorious. We're th' underdogs. Gotta be. Elsewise we'd be th' Man, and we wouldn't be doin' rock 'n' roll." She bites her lip, "Can't figure if 'crossroads' is a bit 'f ground gained, 'r a thing that's keepin' us stuck. Christ, this is hard. Feels like we just need a technique, take this shit out 'f our hands…"

“I think that’s thinkin’ about it too hard, Sable,” Quinn remarks in regards to her thoughts on Victory. “Really, I think we’re thinking about this whole thing too hard. Most band names are deep meaningful phrases or names. They’re random assemblages of words. Sable was right about The eatles, so maybe we need t’ just… pick something instead a’ tryin’ so hard t’ overthink it.”

"Everyone write a word on a piece of paper, let's do it like we're doing the song." Magnes reaches into his pocket and rips pieces of paper apart, sitting them on the table in front of him, then he gets his pen and writes something down, then passes the pen to Elaine. "Pass the pen around."

Peering at Magnes, Elaine shrugs a bit, then scribbles something down on a piece of paper, setting it aside before she reaches over to hand the pen over to Sable. "This is gonna be worse, though…"

"Worth th' experiment, darlin'," Sable says to Elaine as she takes the pen. She sticks the tip of her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she visibly thing, tapping the pen against the side of her nose until she finally puts pen to paper and scrawls something out deliberately

“I think I’m with Elaine on this one, but I’ll give it a try anyway…” When her turn comes, Quinn thinks for only a moment before she scrawls down a word, barely legible in her hurried and poor penmanship. “Maybe we’ll get lucky. Wasn’t quite what I meant, but… hey, can’t argue if it works.”

"Alright, everyone put your words in." Magnes sits his piece of paper on the table, with the word Vigilante, then he sits up straight and nods for everyone else to do it. "Let's see how this works, worth a shot."

Elaine raises an eyebrow. Yeah, that would be his word. She chuckles, setting hers in the pile, reading the word, 'Thunder'. "This could be awesome or catastrophic. I'm not sure if I'm gonna bet which one it is…"

Sable sets her scrap on the table. It's four letters, all caps, spelling the word 'BLUE'. "Gotta play t' win, dig?" she says, shooting Elaine a grin. Her eyes go to Quinn, the last scrap. "Let's see it, babe."

“Um…” Quinn grimaces as she looks at the other, and then sets down her word – “Collide”, if it can even be read. “I don’t think this is going t’ work and not sound really stupid,” she asserts with a grin, looking among the others in the room. “We could do a round two and pick from 8 choices.”

"Blue Thunder, the Vigilante Collision? Strange name, but I've heard worse. And yeah, I'm with Quinn, a second round couldn't hurt. This is really interesting." Magnes seems excited, grabbing another piece of paper to rip apart and pass out, then nods to Quinn, who'd be first this time, as she was the last with the pen.

Elaine shakes her head at the name. "Now we're just makin' superheroes. This is kinda weird, making madlibs for a band name." She peers at the papers. "I'm not sure about this, really… but I suppose Sable's right… worth a shot."

"Round two it is," Sable says, reaching out to snag the pen and, rather more quickly this time, she scribbles something down. "Sorry if this ain't spelled right…" She tosses the paper out. It reads, 'REMEMBURING'.

Quinn’s second word is offered up without much thought at all – “muse”. Leaning back in her seat, she grimaces. To her, the choice so far as sparse. “I wasn’t thinking we actually use, um, everyone’s words. That’s just not going t’ sound good. We’re going t’ have t’ peice something together from two or three of ‘em.”

Magnes looks down at Sable's word, smiling in approval. "It's close enough, you only got one letter wrong." He sits his word down, which is 'Mad', then sits back and nods. "Your turn, Elaine." he says as he passes the pen to her.

Elaine shakes her head a little as she scribbles her own word down, offering it into the pile, 'Life'. "I don't think this is making any progress." She rubs her neck. "Don't mean to sound pessimistic, but…"

Sable peers down at the collected scraps. All listed they are: Vigilante - Thunder - Blue - Collide - Rememburing (sic) - Muse - Mad - Life. Sable taps her chin in thoughtful consideration. "Th' Life 'f a Mad Muse?" she offers, with the tone of conjecture, just trying permutations, "Rememberin' Blue Thunder?" She cracks a grin, "'Vigilante Muse' sounds sorta cool, actually…"

"I like Mad Muse, t' be honest. The Life of a Mad Muse sounds like a great album name too," Quinn remarks thoughtfull, a nod to accompany the words. "Not so sure about Vigilante Muse, but it could work, I guess."

"I like Mad Muse too." Magnes settles, crossing his arms as he offers a little grin to Sable. "Reminds me of you, you're like the mad muse to the rest of the band." he points out.

"I like Mad Muse as well. Kinda seems… fun. A bit of crazy and a bit of inspiration." Elaine grins, giving a nod towards Sable. "Yeah, she's our mad muse alright." She teases. "I think we've got a winner!"

Sable's lips quirk to one side as she becomes the object of discussion. Her narcissism operates on very certain levels, in certain circumstances, mostly when she's trying to prove something to someone, trying to wow or overcome by force of personality. Attention like this coming from close friends, where such force is unnecessary… it makes her squirm a little. "Aw, hell, well, crazy I surely fuckin' am. Hard t' think 'f m'self as a muse, seein' as I'm so wrapped up in bein' th' artist but…" she breaks into a smile, "I ain't gonna argue if it gives us a name. I dig. Mad Muse we are. Bringin' inspiration wild t' a world weary!"

Quinn leans forward a bit, taking Sable’s hand and jerking, pulling her roughly back down to the sofa. “A perfect name for a band created by an insane woman,” she teases, laughing and shaking her head. “Mad Muse! I like it! That wasn’t so feckin’ hard. We should have just done that from the get go!”

Sable has no hesitations or misgivings regarding Magnes' idea. She seems not only to take to it, but with the utmost seriousness. She sticks out her hand, expression determined, almost grave. "Only proper. Comrades in arms, warrior's 'f music," her yellow eyes slip over to Elaine, "'n' associated lady-fair." And there's the smile.

Quinn rolls her eyes. “Clearly, we’re getting pumped up t’… sit around drinkin’ for the rest of the night,” she says with a grin. Still, she sets her hand on top of Sable, grinning wide. On the count a’ four, then? One…”

"We're charging up our band spirit, solidifying our energy and power!" Magnes states as he nods, then continues from where Quinn left off. "Two!"

"You guys are all crazy, that's my stance on that. I love you all to pieces, but you're freaking crazy." Elaine shakes her head, but she's smiling. "Three," she adds in.

"Four!" Sable declares, all business again, and presses down her hand before lifting it up, fingers closing into a fist.

"Mad Muse!"

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