Aberrant: 2011 - Miami Night: Polemic Misanthropy (The Performance)

[Gabriel Stone]

The stage was dark but the occasional sound of a drum beat or a guitar chord announced that the show was close to beginning. The lights around the stage grew dimmer and in the back it was total chaos. Gabriel paced to and fro, his guitar draped over him as he aired a few practice chords. The chords were not heard but he was always nervous before a show and this was a form of relaxation for him.

“Gabe,” Reva darted over to him, sliding in between people with the grace of a gymnast. The stunningly beautiful woman of African/Asian decent collapsed into Gabriel’s chest. “We got a small problem.” She panted out, her eyes bugged wide.

“What?” He asked, shrugging confused as he spoke. This was all they needed, a sprained hand, and broken brain, the Bee Gee’s getting back together, it was always something catastrophic just minutes before any show.

“It’s Morgan, one of the aides must have moved the equipment earlier, and her Bass string broke.”

“So? Fix it.” He was already in the process of blowing off the string incident. “Morgan wails so hard on that damn thing she goes through at least one or two every rehearsal. What’s the big deal?”

“We are!” The overly excited and always way to energetic said. “But it takes time, she said for you to stall em, we’re due on in four minutes and it’s going to take way longer than that for her to retune it. Can ya? Deliver a speech or something, give a State of Confusion or something.”

“State of the Union.” He corrected. His face was sour with her sudden lapse in intelligence but Reva was always like that, speak now, let the other put it all together. “Alright, tell Malachi to get his butt up here. I told Ms. B’Nath she have a show at the top the hour. Tell Morgan to hurry.” Reva bolted off offering only a nod as she departed.

In an explosion of white the lights on stage all shone on Gabriel standing at its center. His stance was calm and his pose looked stolen right out from GQ magazine. He stepped forward slowly, almost like he wanted people to begin to wonder where the music, or the band was. Applauds shot through the club and the stage was almost immediately rushed by novaphile baselines, man and woman alike. Gabe’s grin was apparent; he was almost a different person up here. His typical mellow, polite, and cheerful persona was suddenly washed away by the screaming fans, the spotlights, and all the things that performers feel that they cannot begin to describe to someone who has never been up there.

A sudden beat started up in the background. Those who looked turned their attention to Malachi operating a turntable far behind Gabriel. He was clothed all in black, even his straight obsidian hair, which was near waist length, covered his face completely, in fact, even the band hadn’t seen Mal’s face, ever, in all the time they’d known him.

Gabriel looked over the crowd. He was searching for someone and his eyes scanned the fans and guest novas, he spotted his prey, there across the ocean of cheering fans was a certain Golden Eyed nova. He pointed at her, “I see the one, yeah… she be that lady.”

His voice was low and almost robotic…

I feel you creepin', I can see you from my shadow.

Wanna jump up in my Lamborghini Gallardo.

Maybe go to my place and just kick it, like Taebo.

And possibly bend you over.

Look back and watch me

Smack that, all on the floor,

Smack that, give me some more,

Smack that, 'till you get sore

Smack that, oooh.

Smack that, all on the floor,

Smack that, give me some more,

Smack that, 'till you get sore,

Smack that, oooh.

Up front style. Ready to attack now.

Pull in the parking lot slow with the lack down.

Trustfund’s got the whole thing packed down.

Step in the club. The wardrobe intact now.

I feel it. Go on and crack now.

Ooh, I see it. Don't let back now.

Im'a call her. Then I put the mack down.

Money? No problem. Pocket full of that now.

I feel you creepin', I can see you from my shadow.

Wanna jump up in my Lamborghini Gallardo.

Maybe go to my place and just kick it, like Taebo.

And possibly bend you over.

Look back and watch me

Smack that, all on the floor,

Smack that, give me some more,

Smack that, 'till you get sore

Smack that, oooh.

Smack that, all on the floor,

Smack that, give me some more,

Smack that, 'till you get sore,

Smack that, oooh.

As Mal kept the beat steady even throwing in a few custom effects, like money chinging and fans panting Gabriel, now very animated on stage continued to keep the crowd jumping. As if he had written and produced the song himself he spat flows with flawless clarity.

Ooh! Looks like another club banger.

They better hang on. When I throw this thang on.

Get a little drink on.

They gon' flip, for this Trustfund shit.

You can bank on it.

Pedicure, manicure, kitty cat claws.

The way she climbs up and down them poles.

Lookin' like one o’ dem Puddy Tat Dolls.

Tryin’ a hold my woody back through my drawers.

Steps off stage, didn't think I saw her.

Creeps up behind me and she's like, “you're!” -

I'm like, yeah I know, let's cut to the chase.

No time to waste. Back to my place.

Plus from the club to the crib's like a mile away.

Or more like a palace, shall I say.

Staying in motion he leaned down and slapped palms with fans while he waited for his queue in the beat for begin the chorus and finish the song, hopefully buying the much needed time that Morgan need to get her bass tuned.

I feel you creepin', I can see you from my shadow.

Wanna jump up in my Lamborghini Gallardo.

Maybe go to my place and just kick it, like Taebo.

And possibly bend you over.

Look back and watch me

Smack that, all on the floor,

Smack that, give me some more,

Smack that, 'till you get sore

Smack that, oooh.

Smack that, all on the floor,

Smack that, give me some more,

Smack that, 'till you get sore,

Smack that, oooh

I feel you creepin', I can see you from my shadow.

Wanna jump up in my Lamborghini Gallardo.

Maybe go to my place and just kick it, like Taebo.

And possibly bend you over.

Look back and watch me

Smack that, all on the floor,

Smack that, give me some more,

Smack that, 'till you get sore

Smack that, oooh.

Smack that, all on the floor,

Smack that, give me some more,

Smack that, 'till you get sore,

Smack that, oooh.

As the tempo faded Gabriel’s voice returned to normal. Since his eruption his singing voice seemed to project louder and clearer than anytime pre-eruption that he had performed. He no longer needed a microphone, for most shows, some outdoor venues perhaps but for a small area like The Bathhouse his quantum enhanced voice was able to send out sub harmonics the stimulated the inner ear, allowing all those present to hear him with perfect clarity.

“So how’s Miami doing tonight!?” He shouted. And the club goers went borderline ballistic with their cheers and screams. “Thanks for coming out tonight, we have a great show lined up for you all tonight, but before we get into that I would like to thank our generous hostess, Caramel Bath for inviting us and allowing us to entertain you.” He fans out his arm in Caramel’s direction, placing all the attention on her. “She is donating a rather large percentage of tonight’s ticket sales to help charities in the Miami area, lets give it up for her people! C’mon!” Proudly he applauds, along with the rest of the club goers.

[Perform [6], Carousing [4]]

[z-Kara]

Caramel's mouth dropped open as he pointed her out of the crowd and then sang that old song. She remembered it being popular a year or so ago, and she'd enjoyed having sex to it then. Having Gabe sing it after pointing her out in a crowd was both thrilling and shocking. And it somehow sounded better than she remembered; a haunting rhythm that reminded her primitive mind of being hunted and pursued.

That didn't stop her from laughing delightedly and dancing with the song. There was only a beat, but Kara had grown up with drums; she had been taught to dance to rhythms older than civilization. The dance was for Gabe; she matched the song as best she could*, letting the song move her body.

When he closed the song and mentioned the charity donation, Kara felt a smile play around her lips. The charity thing had been his idea; she usually didn't tie her giving to her profits directly, but she had been more than willing to do it this way, too. And though it had been Gabe's idea, he was making it sound like hers.

Who are you? she thought as she looked intently at Gabe. I mean, really? You aren't at all rich and snobby, you seem nice, which is a change from most trustfund brats-

"... I was a rotten son..."

Ok, maybe you're a basket case with a truckload of guilt**. You can't be a better son, so you'll be a better person?

She could think about that in a moment. Instead, she left the crowd she had been talking with long enough to slip over to the bar and grab a microphone. "That's right, folks, so enjoy yourselves, knowing you're helping Miami and Florida make a better place." Flicking it off, she blew a kiss to Gabe and let him pick up his performance again.

*[Charisma+Perform 3 successes]

**[Wits+Rapport 2 successes]

[Adrenaline]

John was upstairs when the music started. While he liked the fewer crowds of the private area, he also loved loud, live music. Extracting himself from his seat he went up to the bar and had the bartender get him a double shot of Jose Cuervo. He downed it and headed over to the railing overlooking the dance floor.

The throngs of humanity whirled and gyrated in front of the stage, as John stood on the railing. He searched for an open area on the dance floor. After a minute or so passed, a spot opened up, and John Howled "Heads Up, I'm coming in!". The colors blurred as he twisted and flipped in the air. He hit the open spot on the floor with a quiet thud and let out another shout as he began to dance. "I am ready to party!"

[*6 net successes on Dex + Athletics at +2 diff]

[*2 successes on Cha + Perform]

[Maya Flynn]

Ugh, definitely a mistake, the smallish young woman grumbled inwardly, rolling her eyes. Socialize, he said. Meet your own kind, he said. Bah! How is that possible in a place like this, where everyone's either completely overindulging... A half-audible giggle from nearby caught her ear as two figures fumbled over each other's bodies, gyrating lewdly to the carnal rhythm of the song. Or copulating in public. How nice of Constantin to send me here. Next time, I think I'll just offer to watch the Discovery Channel instead. At least the wildlife there... are...

Her train of thought was completely derailed as she was bumped forward by the amorous couple, through a sudden opening in the crowd and directly in line with the stage.

"Merciful Allah," she whispered amid the din, completely entranced by the sight of what could only have been one of the Malaaikah* made manifest on this poor and earthly plane. The lights turned his hair to gold, his skin to bronze, and etched indelibly the inhuman perfection of his form and features into her young mind. The stirring of her smoky hair slowed, lulled into passivity as she stared, enraptured, and watched Gabriel move across the stage. The power of his voice was undeniable, each syllable resonating through her ears until there was nothing but a wave of heavenly sound. The idea of such a holy being debasing himself so didn't even cross her mind, though she did smile dreamily at the recollection that his name was Gabriel, Jibrail in the tongue of her father's people, the angel who related each verse of the Qu'ran to Muhammad, peace be upon him.

"Perhaps," she began tentatively, wondering if she had judged the man too hastily before, but then it was over. The applause thundered like the crashing of a mighty wave, and there stood Gabriel, grinning and gesturing animatedly at a half-dressed woman literally spilling out of her clothing.

"No," she gritted her teeth, small fists clenched at her sides. "Not a Malak... A Nova. A stupid, rich, pretty boy Nova." If she had disliked Gabriel Law before, she well and truly hated him now.

[*Angels.]

[Robert J. Lambert]

Gabriel's voice was fantastic, incredible, amazing. I hate the little goblin

The music was powerful, the beat was almost tribal, and the voice giving it was angelic. All of that failed to truly impress Robert. But not everyone else, the whole place was up roaring with the music, applauding and it just got louder when Gabe pointed at Kara and she started dancing.

Robert felt his own foot start to tap to the rythm of the music.

Come on Robert, nothing will go your way unless you put your spirit into it. You will have to accept to learn that the man is just possibly the prettiest thing alive

Without a glass on his hand, Robert put's Caramel note on his back pocket, and just follows along the music.

[Gabriel Stone]

The strum of a bass chord droned through the amplifiers of the nightclub. It told Gabriel, and the fans who all went crazy at it’s sound that it was time for the show to really begin. Morgan, the baseline bassist of Polemic Misanthropy, was quickly becoming one of the music industries hottest women. The men of the club rushed forward at the sight of her, becoming just as terrible as the women flocking to Gabe during his solo just moments before.

She shot him a sultry wink and playfully stuck her tongue out at him. “Fashionably late?” Gabe mused as he walked near her, smiling.

“No,” she replied, with pouty lips and a whiney expression. “It just took all four of us to haul your ego to the stage. It misses you when you’re away.”

“Niiice.” Gabriel chuckled, pulling his guitar over his shoulder. “Points for originality.” She puckered her burgundy lips and mocked a kiss in his direction. His voice raised high and reverberated all around his friends on stage. “You ready to do this?”

“Woooooooo!” Wailed Reva’s reply as she sat behind the drums. She threw her arms down and a thunderous boom rang out through the club. On cue Morgan, Luke, and Gabe sent their instruments into a frenzied tempo.

The show had begun.

The crowd cheered and danced, people let go of their inhibitions and for the next hour and a half there was nothing but the music, and the people. Sweat poured from every pore of the dancers and the band. Everyone was, if only for a while, equal the way Gabe liked it. People just being people and having a good time, not hurting anybody.

As the previous song came to a close Gabriel took a moment to wander the stage. Taking a rather large drink of water before continuing. “Alright all you deviants, listen up.” He started, wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel. “This next one is actually a rather special one for me.” He tossed the towel across a stool. “A met a woman recently.” His introduction to the next song was cut short be a cacophony of women lamenting the possibility the Gabriel was ‘off the market’. “Relax, relax… it didn’t go as well as I had hoped. Maybe all of you have heard of her, she’s with Team Tomorrow, she’s called Balm.” He continued to pace up and down the stage, occasionally stopping to shake the hand of a fan. “You see, I let my ego get the best of me, and she was so stressed out with all her work and training, that I thought I could just sweep her off her feet and woo her with a whole day out together thing. Well, that blew up in my face. I interfered in her life and that was wrong of me, so… I invited her out to party with us tonight, but unfortunately she couldn’t make it.” The crowd all supplied an accommodating ‘awwww’ for him. “Yeah, yeah, you smart asses. I only made her smile once, and that’s kinda been buggin me. So! Since we’re recording a live CD here tonight I want all of you to help me let Balm know how sorry I am for being a real jerk. ‘C’mon! Lemme hear ya make some noise!”

The band finished his monologue by strumming up the chords for the next and final song of the evening. “Balm… sweetie… I picked this one out for you darlin’.”

This is the story of a girl,

Who cried a river and drowned the whole world!

And while she looked so sad in photographs,

I absolutely love her,

When she smiles...

How many days in a year?

She woke up with hope but she only found tears.

And I can be so insincere,

Making her promises never for real!

As long as she stands there waiting,

Wearing the holes in the soles of her shoes!

How many days disappear?

When you look in the mirror so how do you choose?

Your clothes never wear as well the next day,

And your hair never falls in quite the same way-

But you never seem to run out of things to say...

This is the story of a girl,

Who cried a river and drowned the whole world!

And while she looked so sad in photographs,

I absolutely love her,

When she smiles...

How many lovers would stay?

Just to put of with this shit day after day!

How did we wind up this way?

Watching our mouths for the words that we say.

As long as we stand here waiting,

Wearing the clothes of the souls that we choose!

How do we get there today?

When we're walking to far for the price of our shoes!

Your clothes never wear as well the next day,

And your hair never falls in quite the same way-

But you never seem to run out of things to say!

This is the story of a girl,

Who cried a river and drowned the whole world!

And while she looked so sad in photographs,

I absolutely love her,

When she smiles...

Your clothes never wear as well the next day,

And your hair never falls in quite the same way-

But you never seem to run out of things to say...

This is the story of a girl,

Who cried a river and drowned the whole world!

And while she looks so sad in photographs,

I absolutely love her-

This is the story of a girl;

Her pretty face she hid from the world!

And while she looks so sad and lonely there,

I absolutely love her,

When she smiles...

This is the story of a - girl!

Who cried a river and drowned the whole world!

And while she looks so sad in photographs,

I absolutely love her,

When she smiles...

When she smiles.

Roaring fans threw their arms up wide. The scene was absolute anarchy as Polemic Misanthropy waved to the crowd and said their goodbyes. “Thank you all again for coming out tonight! We’re not here for a long time; we’re here for a good time, so be good to yourselves and each other. Good night!”

The stage dimmed into darkness and the DJ took over spinning the tracks for the people to groove to.

[Balm]

Balm's eyes filled with tears as Gabe - yes, he was Gabe to her again - sang the song as his way of an apology. With her changed looks, and being out of uniform, he no doubt failed to recognise her.

Well, she would show him now. Startling those whom she was with, the slender brunette rose into the air and floated over to the stage. She owed Gabe an apology, and she was going to give it to him publicly.

[Gabriel Stone]

With his back to the crowd, preparing to walk off stage and spend awhile relaxing and enjoying the remainder of the night, he never noticed Balm’s levitation to the stage. Morgan, Luke, and the rest of the band watched, slightly slack jawed as she floated up and onto the stage. “Way to kick tail guys! C’mon, let’s get cleaned up and I’ll introduce you to Caramel and the crew.”

Reva, who was standing closest to Gabe rose up on her tiptoes and planted a peck on his cheek. “We’ll start with out ya ‘Romeo’.” She winked and smiled. She patted his chest hard and pointed over his shoulder. “Looks like someone wants to see ya.” Cheerfully she spun around and walked away, along with the rest of the band in tow behind her. Except for Morgan, with a less than polite glare at Balm she simply rolled her eyes and walked of ahead of the group.

He turned around, now only a few steps from Balm. Her new look off centered him for only a moment and he hardly could register the still cheering fans surrounding the stage. “Janet?” he asked, a bit confused by her presence more than her appearance. “Uh, g-glad you could make it.” Not sure what to say he sort of pulled the first thing he thought of from the air.

Reva’s hand slapped hard against her forehead as she, Luke and Malachi eves dropped from behind the large amplifiers.

“How he scores chicks is beyond me.” Luke offered up.

Reva tried to jump to his defense, “He’s a late bloomer sometimes, any second now he’s gonna bloom.”

“I sure as hell ain’t cleaning it up. C’mon, let him bomb on his own, we got drinks to drink and groupies to molest.” Luke took her hand and she and Malachi left Gabe alone to handle Balm.

[Balm]

Balm landed easily and gracefully, unconsciously revealing her enhanced dexterity as she smiled, soothing Gabe's nervousness with a touch of her own gift*.

"I believe that I owe you an apology for my behaviour," she said gently, her smile bright and genuine. "It was I in the fault, not you. But thank you for the song. It's one of my favourites."

*(Charisma + Mega-Charisma Roll: 2, 7, 7, 3, 1, 7 on Irony Games' dice roller)

[Motley]

Motley loved this song, the bouncy, upbeat pop-rock tune with vaguely melancholic undertones that the "Lawman" was belting out from somewhere onstage. She'd never met him, but if she could've seen him through the throngs of dancing people (jostling, jumping, laughing) she would surely have recognized him on sight. After all, he was one of the most beautiful of the "beautiful people," the glorious and brilliant peacocks of the metaphorical aviary that was the OpNet forums she'd recently discovered. Miss Caramel was a similarly exotic bird, she thought, envisioning something with luxurious golden plumage for which she had no name, but she hadn't seen her, either. In fact, she hadn't seen anyone she might've recognized since the song started playing, but there was music playing…

Music that didn't require her to communicate in any language save that of outstretched arms and swaying hips, of movement and colour and scintillating light that pulsed joyously from her slim body…

Music that transcended all word, all thought, all barriers and swallowed up the club and everyone in it with a wave of motion and sound…

She loved this song, and she loved to dance with the all-consuming glee that only a teen-aged girl can possess. So, through the crowded club she moved in an endless pattern of long limbs, rendered for a few surreal moments into a living work of quantum art. Reality warped subtly as she went, splitting open the seams of the plausible so that intangible, chimerical forms (now fishes, now birds, now shooting stars) surrounded her and those near her in colours never before seen by any but the mad, and her sunset-coloured hair whirled like a shimmering curtain of gossamer as it whipped about her head. Her smile was brilliant, the sparkle in her turquoise eyes undeniable; she was having the time of her life in the sultry Miami night, enfolded on all sides by the press of warm, jubilant companions.

*****

In Seattle, there is a small side street not so very far from the Space Needle, called Suicide Row. Artists, musicians, and other misfits from all walks of life have flocked there in recent years, ranging from the undiscovered to the simply talentless, leaving their last, desperate Krylon-coloured marks before venturing into that twilight world between sky and rain-fogged horizon.

On this night, in a one-room building of no immediately apparent design or purpose, a young girl danced blithely among friends she'd never known and might never meet. She dipped and bounced alongside the dazzling and the homely to an infectious rhythm as a playboy rock star sang about a girl who could've drowned the world with her tears, and, though no one saw her, for a moment she was beautiful. She was an incandescent beacon of colour and light amid a sea of kindred souls.

Though no one saw her, for the length of a song, she unconsciously wove her dreams into a fey glamour that transformed a dingy, damp, tumbledown building into a luminous quantum-touched fantasy of Greek columns and warm, welcoming smiles.

Though no one saw her… The song ended, as all things must, and the sudden silence shocked her into awareness. She opened her eyes. She pulled the earphones from her ears and they fell unheeded to tangle in the rain-damp curls of her hair. She stood there in the darkness for a very long time indeed, grasping desperately at the last fleeting threads of the vision that had unravelled all too quickly.

And then, though no one saw her, she wept the bitter, inconsolable tears of one who has just been reminded of what it means to be completely… unutterably…

…Alone.

[Gabriel Stone]

Slowly Gabe took a few steps closer to Balm, raising his hand up as if to say there was no need for explinations. "Janet, please. There is no need for apologies anymore." He half shrugged with a forgiving smile on his face. "Let's face it, niether one of us was really at our best that day. So, what do ya say? Forgive and forget?"

Around them the fans still cheered and a few sarcastically mocked Balm and Gabe with romantic sound effects like "awwws". Needless to say that even though Gaberiel and Balm's feeling towards one another were 'neutral' at best, the tabloids were going to have something different to say come Monday.

[Adrenaline]

He surged with the crowd. As the human swarm got closer to the stage, the mass of bodies seemed to fuse into a single organism. The beast of many arms and heads, swayed and screamed with every chord and vocal emission from Polemic's Lead singer. The vocals, combined with the stench of sweat and a hundred different type of perfumes, created a dizzying and hypnotic confection.

John was part of that animal. His individuality no longer existed. He was of the beast, dancing and howling in an orgiastic frenzy to Gabriel's songs. Neither male nor female, the beast had become a force of raw emotion which fed upon it's individual parts to sustain the whole.

[Balm]

Balm nodded, her smile still genuine. "Done - forgiven and forgotten."

Her changeable eyes, hidden behind those pale-tinted glasses, looked over the crowd. "You know, come publication day, everyone's going to think we're in love." Her voice was wryly amused and chagrined all at once.