[CLOSED] - [IN PROGRESS] We need some inspiration.

[shekormick]

Who: Thomas Foster & Lizzy McKormick.
When: November 8th, 2009, late afternoon/early evening.
Where: Lizzy's house.
Summary: Lizzy invites Thomas over to learn some guitar, and bring mayonnaise pizza.
Status: In progress.
WARNINGS: None; probably future language.

Comments

[notrefined]

“Fuck,” Thomas muttered to himself as he tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and almost dropped the jar of mayonnaise he was carrying balanced on top of a Tupperware container full of pizza. The walk from his house to Lizzy’s had been longer than he’d anticipated, and he wasn’t about to drop the food now that he’d spent a good half hour carrying it around town.

As the environment around him began to look steadily more seedy-looking, Thomas considered his previous musical experiences. He’d asked for lessons a couple Christmases in a row as a kid, and one year his mom finally broke down and paid some trying-too-hard old dude with a ponytail to come to their house and teach him.

The guy left after about fifteen minutes, when Thomas called him a donkey-fucker. He hadn’t dared ask for any more music lessons after that, so he couldn’t help but be pretty fucking excited that he was finally gonna learn. And from a girl who actually seemed kind of awesome, no less. He was pretty sure she’d eventually get tired of him cursing at her or how bad he sucked at guitar or the fact that he was the kind of loser who brought Tupperware to someone’s house, but it would probably be cool while it lasted.

Finally, Thomas reached a house that he was pretty sure was Lizzy’s. The address was right, if memory served, and there was a girl sitting on a stool in the garage playing guitar. It sounded good, and he kind of just stood there in the street listening for a minute before he remembered that that was probably weird.

Thomas reminded himself sternly not to be an idiot, walked up the driveway, and grinned.

“Someone order mayonnaise pizza?”

[shekormick]

Distracted by the music, as she often became when she was in the midst of playing, Lizzy hadn't even noticed how long Thomas had stood and listened to her playing. When he spoke up, the blonde girl's head immediately jerked to attention, staring down the driveway at him, as he approached her. This had to be the kid. At least he wasn't faggy looking, just casual. He had mentioned hipster faggots a lot, and it had gotten her a little worried.. it was a relief to see he didn't fit the part.

"I ordered food in general, dude, let's eat that shit," Lizzy replied, gently putting her guitar aside, and climbing off of the stool. She stood at her full height, lanky and awkward for a girl, and she advanced on him. Tupperware was the last concern on her list; her stomach made a nearly audible grumble just at the sight. "Lizzy," she said simply, extending one slightly scruffy looking hand in an offer of a shake.

[notrefined]

"Thomas," said Thomas, shaking the proffered hand. "And I hear you. I'm pretty sure this has the potential to be either the best thing ever or like, completely fucking blasphemous." He set about unloading the pizza from its container, glancing up at her apologetically when he was finished.

"I forgot to bring plates and shit, my fucking mom-" he started, but the rest of the sentence was lost as his eyes traveled to Lizzy's guitar.

"Dude! Is that yours? It's really cool. I mean, I don't know shit about guitars, but it looks cool." Thomas cut himself off there, aware that if he kept going it would probably devolve into babbling. "You sounded really good just now," he couldn't stop himself from adding.

[shekormick]

"Mayonnaise is good on everything, just like I told you," Lizzy replied casually, withdrawing her hand, and rubbing it absently onto the leg of her worn jeans. They had a bit of oil on them from work, and the bottoms looked frayed. She preferred to call them well loved. "Ever had a mayonnaise and mustard sandwich? Three pieces of Wonder Bread? It's way more fucking rad than it sounds. And you can get the mayo, mustard, and loaf for about seven bucks, and eat lunch all week."

She watched him unloading the pizza, biting slowly onto her lip, and lifting a hand to rub slowly at her stomach through the fabric of her hoodie. It looked delicious, cold and old or not. When Thomas noticed her guitar, and complimented it, she smirked. "That old thing? Yeah, that's my baby. Well, one of them.. the other one is by the wall over there, beside the drum kit," she replied, motioning in that direction, but her own eyes falling on the electric.

Red, such a stereotypical electric guitar color, and practically coated in stickers and decals, promoting everything from general offense statements to promotions of her own favorite bands. It was old, second hand, and not perfect, but she did love it. She didn't think she'd trade it in, even when she was famous. You always needed your original guitar for an emergency. "I'll sell it when Butcher gets huge, and then crashes and burns.. once my money runs out, from spending it all on hookers and blow, I'll sell my original guitar, and make a cool six mill.. but that's not for a few years yet."

Pausing, mostly surprised at the compliment about her playing, the blonde looked uncharacteristically sheepish, reaching up to rub the back of her neck nervous. "Uh, thanks, asshole.. it's nothing special, just jamming."

[notrefined]

Thomas triumphantly produced a slice of pepperoni pizza spread liberally with mayonnaise as well as a greasy napkin, offering them both to Lizzy. "I dunno, man," he frowned, seriously considering the pros and cons of a mustard-mayo sandwich. "I feel like you'd have to get some meat in there somewhere."

Glancing over at the acoustic, Thomas’ eyes widened slightly when he saw the drumset. It was one thing to have someone from the internet tell you they were in a band, but seeing physical proof was kind of the coolest thing ever. He resisted the urge to start interrogating her about it again, but it was sort of a close thing.

“Hookers and blow, huh?” he asked instead, taking some mayo out of the jar and smearing it on his own slice of pizza. “Sounds like a plan.”

He took a bite of the pizza and chewed meditatively for a few moments before a look of food-induced euphoria spread over his features. “No problem, dicksmack,” he replied cheerfully. “If the rest of your band is as good as you are you’ll get out of here for sure.”

[shekormick]

"You got me there. Nothing better than red meat.. or white meat, dark meat, any kind of meat. Just meet me meat, but.. you gotta eat what you gotta eat, at least over here," Lizzy replied, accepting the pizza, and quickly taking a bite. She chewed lowly, speaking against it. "It's better than eating poptarts forever."

She laughed a little at his agreement to her plan, nodding slowly, and taking another huge bite of her pizza. It was definitely, so far, a win-win combination. "Always felt like a plan to me. It's like, what's better, right? And a rock star has a stereotype to live up to."

She could tell he was enjoying the pizza, too, just from the look on his face. They had hit official foodgasm, and in the most unlikely of places. This already looked like a useful friendship. "They ain't bad. Tammy is a really good singer, I think she'd rather be a model.. Wendy is more politics bound, Stan will probably go to some big college with a faggy football scholarship, and Kevin.. I dunno, he's really only a new guy at drums. We'll see."

[notrefined]

Thomas nodded, finishing off the rest of his slice and sucking the grease off one of his fingers meditatively.

“Have the rest of it if you want,” he said, motioning to the pizza that was still left. “I can pull the starvation card and get my mom to order more later.”

He considered blow and hookers in contrast to mountain-town life and grinned wistfully, sparing one last admiring glance for the collective instruments in the garage.

“Don’t even worry about it, man, ” he added with the utmost conviction, pushing some hair out of his eyes impatiently. “They’ll totally come around once chicks start throwing their panties at you during shows and shit.”

[shekormick]

"Fucking sweet," Lizzy replied amicably, nodding at him, and finishing up with the slice of pizza in her hands, crust and all. She grabbed up another slice, slathered it with mayonnaise, and took another bite. It was truly the best thing she had eaten in days, and even with her nose stuffy, and a touch of a flu, it was still awesome.

"It won't be long before chicks start throwing the panties, trust me.. we McKormicks, we're an irresistible breed," Lizzy added, chuckling.

[notrefined]

"For sure," agreed Thomas, pulling absentmindedly at a loose thread in his sweater. After a few moments he realized how that probably sounded, promptly turned a brilliant shade of red, and improvised a quick subject change.

"I mean, uh. How are we gonna do this whole guitar thing?" The thread unraveled from Thomas' sweater and he flicked it onto the ground, mentally berating himself for being such a creeper.

[shekormick]

Lizzy couldn't help but laugh at the comment from Thomas, using her free hand to lightly punch the boy's upper arm. "Totally faggy," she assured him, shaking her head slowly, and finishing up a second slice of pizza. There was nothing Lizzy did faster than eat.

Swallowing her last bite, she motioned absently toward the acoustic. "Grab it, and pull up a chair, and we'll just fuck around, you'll figure it out," she replied. She wiped her greasy hands on her jeans, making sure to be thorough, and assured that they could hardly get any more dirty anyhow. Sitting on her stool, she grabbed up her electric, and watched him.

[notrefined]

"That's me," laughed Thomas, gesturing with an exaggerated limp wrist. Inwardly, he breathed a sigh of relief. Most of the girls he knew probably would've gotten all stiff and offended, and it was cool to meet someone who didn't seem to care that much when he took it upon himself to act like a lunatic.

He did as Lizzy asked, handling the guitar carefully. Once he was seated, he settled it on his lap and gave it a look that was half-awe and half-perplexity. Not really sure what to do with his hands, he settled them on the neck in a way he remembered vaguely from music videos and looked up at Lizzy, awaiting instruction.

[shekormick]

[ooc; bear with me, I'm not a real guitarist myself.]

"I know, I can smell a fruit from a mile away," Lizzy teased, chuckling a little as she adjusted herself on the stool. She shifted her own hands on the guitar, putting them in on the body, and the neck, as she took a moment to think of how to instruct Thomas.

"Okay, hold the fucker do that the back of the body is against your gut, ad your tits, and the neck runs in length with the floor. The big fat string should be the closest to your face, while the thinnest one should be close to the floor.. uh, if you're right-handed, hold the guitar so the headstock points to the left, but if you're a left-hander, hold the guitar so the headstock points to the right, got it?"

[notrefined]

Thomas nodded and then frowned down at the guitar, biting his lip in concentration as he struggled to get everything in order. He didn't have the first idea what a headstock was, but after a moment of silent panic he realized that it must be the thing on top of the neck. Making sure it was pointed to the right and marveling at his own stupidity, he looked up again.

"This okay?"

[shekormick]

"That's awesome," Lizzy replied, nodding. "You got the next part right, resting it on the same leg as your dominant hand or whatever.. basically, you're holding it pretty damn well. Just fix your fretting hand, thumb behind the neck, curl your fingers a bit, at the second knuckle, so they kinda hover over the strings."

Pausing, she leaned over to a small bag beside her stool, and produced two picks; offering one to Thomas. "Medium gauge, not too hard, not too flimsy, it's almost always what I use.. these are kinda.. eh, they're a cheap brand, but they work so far. I'll get nicer ones when I'm buying those hookers and blow."

[notrefined]

Thomas beamed at the praise, relieved that he hadn't yet completely failed. He fixed his hand carefully, taking the offered pick with his other one and laughing at her comment. "Solid gold, right?"

Cheap or not, the pick looked pretty awesome to Thomas as he turned it over in his hand, examining it quite literally like a kid would at Christmas.

[shekormick]

"Solid gold mixed with coke," Lizzy replied coyly, another chuckle passing her lips, as she held her own pick firmly, and indicated that he follow her lead. Thumb and index finger, held above the strings, waiting to strike. "It'll feel weird, holding it I mean, but you'll adjust. Eventually, down strokes are gunna sound just as good as up strokes, and vice versa, I promise."

"These are already tuned, but normally you'd do that next.. I'll show you that some other day, it's fucking boring," she added. "Do you wanna try scales first? Also boring, but it teachers you about the fingers, all of that crap.. sort of like a necessary evil, before you get to the cool stuff."

Absently, she strummed the open strings, her fretting fingers still bent above the neck.