User Tools

Site Tools


music_for_evenings

Differences

This shows you the differences between two versions of the page.

Link to this comparison view

music_for_evenings [2017/12/21 13:42] (current)
bookscorpion created
Line 1: Line 1:
 +==== Music for Evenings ====
 +
 +===Frettchens'​s Therapy sessions===
 +
 +**27th July 2071**
 +
 +[Recording Session, Session ID SEA#0008]
 +
 +The camera sits on top of a wooden handrail and after some exposure adjustments focuses on [[Frettchen]],​ sitting on a porch that has seen better days. Bright curtains of sunlight fall through the holes in a decaying awning and brawling dust particles, stopped and reflected in flaring patches by the [[elf]]’s bare chrome legs.\\ ​
 +She has specks of paint on her face and hands, her hair is a tousled mess of green, but she smiles and absently strums on an old electric guitar.\\ ​
 +“Good morning, Miss Aidee. Would you… like to put on some pants before we start the session?​”,​ her shrink greets Frettchen.\\ ​
 +“Huh? Oh, hey Doc. bootin’ fast toda. Nah, I mean, it’s not as if these get cold or anything, right?”, she answers, flicking against the metal legs with a soft ‘Ping’. Both, she and the doctor take some notes, the old fashioned way, on paper. She looks up first. “What’s a good rhyme for Flak?”, she asks and the psychiatrist ponders.\\ ​
 +“How about…”,​ he starts but gets interrupted.\\ ​
 +“No, wait, I got it…”\\ ​
 +She scribbles down more notes on the worn out paper, takes one more look at it, then hammers away with some simple chords.\\ ​
 +“Like slag, we’re a little bit of everything,​\\ ​
 +like flak, we’re a little bit of everything,​\\ ​
 +Can’t count the shots, just make them count,​\\ ​
 +We’ll yell it out with every single round,​\\ ​
 +But yell it out, before it kills you now,​\\ ​
 +take my word, it may sound absurd,​\\ ​
 +we’re both fucked up and iiiit works!"​\\ ​
 +Frettchen grimaces and puts the guitar away, gently resting it against the wall. “Whaddaya think, Doc?​”\\ ​
 +The projection stares at her for a few seconds. “Well, it’s good to see that you have picked up a hobby.”\\ ​
 +“Hey, fuck you, I’ve made music for decades… Sorry, language, I know…”\\ ​
 +Reassessing the quality of what he just heard, the doctor seems bewildered. “Really? That is… surprising.” He takes down some more notes.\\ ​
 +“I’m a drummer, okay? Anyway, it’s a lovesong… For my [[Slicer|husband]]. Look what he did to me… Turned me into a friggin songwriter!”,​ she sighs, happiness carried by her breath. “He got us this [[Slicer'​s house|house]] here, you know? A few patches here and there, some furniture and it’ll be pretty comfy. We had a house like this before, but for some reason it burned down…”\\ ​
 +“Do you consider settling down in [[Seattle]]?​”\\ ​
 +“Yeah… I mean, that’s what he asked too. Was a weird moment, with all the possibilities speeding through my head and all the implications. Thing is, usually I’d be terrified to get bored after a few months. A year, tops. But with him? Can’t even imagine a lack of fun. Life has rarely been so good and exciting!”\\ ​
 +The doctor puts his notepad away and takes off his glasses, cleaning them with the sleeve of his tweed jacket.\\ ​ “I am very glad to hear that, Miss Aidee. Frankly, ever since you chose to go to Seattle, your condition has vastly improved, give or take a few complications,​ but we will iron those out in time. My most honest, sincere advice: keep that man close and do not let go off him ever again. I have the feeling he will keep the both of us reasonably sane.”\\ ​
 +“Heh, maybe you’re right… Oh, speaking of which… My [[Christine|car]] tried to kill me! She’s some sort of fuckin’ nanotech, I think and really came at me a few days ago.”, Frettchen says casually and pats a few new dents on her armored limbs. “We talked it out, though. She really is a vindictive bitch…”\\ ​
 +“Doesn’t that… Worry you? I hope my advice was not the cause for your… Inconvenience.” In the distance, the sound of a motorcycle draws closer.\\ ​
 +“Nah, I screwed that one up myself, wasn’t your fault!”\\ ​
 +She waves at someone behind the camera and shouts “Awww, my hero!” with a happy smirk on her face. “Sorry, Doc, Gotta run, there comes my handsome husband with bagels!”\\ ​
 +
 +
 +[[Masterpost]]
 +
 +{{tag> Adventure_Log Frettchen'​s_Therapy Frettchen Slicer Christine}}
  
music_for_evenings.txt · Last modified: 2017/12/21 13:42 by bookscorpion