won't you please come to Chicago just to sing
[Timed to about 7:15 PM! Also, this is a party post. PARTY POSTS ARE THE SHIZ OKAY.]
In a bar in some nondescript part of town, a band is about to take the stage. They've charged $20 a head for entry, a fee that includes some free alcohol and a promise that all funds will be donated to Chicago's Red Cross. There will also be some fantastic music. (They hope the audience will think so, anyway.)
This was all Conway Rankin's idea. It's his first time back in the city since the plagues hit and while it feels weird and a little uncomfortable to be here, he's happy to see (and smell-curse you, dog senses!) the city again. His bandmates are not so thrilled, but Conway's assured them that they will be just fine and can head out of the city as soon as their performance tonight is over. He'll meet back up them in a few days.
For now, though, they have some music to play. So half of the Rankin Family band take the stage (not everyone agreed to come; prior engagements, they said), with Conway at the lead and in a kilt. The kilt is for Rachel. He's sure she knows. He also hopes she's surprised, because he made no mention that he'd actually be here. In fact, most of his letter was a lie, but she won't mind, right?
"Hello, Chicago! We're one half of the Rankins. As you can probably tell from my accent, we're not from these parts. I'm from Scotland and the rest of the fine folks up here hail from Nova Scotia, but as far as I'm concerned, Chicago is my second home. So we're here tonight to play you some authentic Celtic rock, some covers, and hopefully raise some money for the city where I was reborn."
And with that, the music starts.
Rock out, Chicago. Rock out.
In a bar in some nondescript part of town, a band is about to take the stage. They've charged $20 a head for entry, a fee that includes some free alcohol and a promise that all funds will be donated to Chicago's Red Cross. There will also be some fantastic music. (They hope the audience will think so, anyway.)
This was all Conway Rankin's idea. It's his first time back in the city since the plagues hit and while it feels weird and a little uncomfortable to be here, he's happy to see (and smell-curse you, dog senses!) the city again. His bandmates are not so thrilled, but Conway's assured them that they will be just fine and can head out of the city as soon as their performance tonight is over. He'll meet back up them in a few days.
For now, though, they have some music to play. So half of the Rankin Family band take the stage (not everyone agreed to come; prior engagements, they said), with Conway at the lead and in a kilt. The kilt is for Rachel. He's sure she knows. He also hopes she's surprised, because he made no mention that he'd actually be here. In fact, most of his letter was a lie, but she won't mind, right?
"Hello, Chicago! We're one half of the Rankins. As you can probably tell from my accent, we're not from these parts. I'm from Scotland and the rest of the fine folks up here hail from Nova Scotia, but as far as I'm concerned, Chicago is my second home. So we're here tonight to play you some authentic Celtic rock, some covers, and hopefully raise some money for the city where I was reborn."
And with that, the music starts.
Rock out, Chicago. Rock out.