Caritas, Saturday Evening

[breakfastlover]

The zombie band was playing some pretty morbid tunes tonight. A lot of tunes about death and flesh - but also the occasional ditty about yearning for stardom. Mike kinda wished he could've pretended not to understand what the hell was going on but, oh, he did. He'd already sung at his only employee over the phone early this morning. About next week

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[borealpriestess]

Verity was having a great day. Breaking into song lyrics wasn't exactly random for her. Part of being a dancer was living a life full of music. The mice had been singing a lot today, too, but again, not that surprising.

Dancing the foxtrot with a little old man on her way to the bar had been weirder, but it wasn't her taps running green or waking up a guy, so Verity was willing to let it go.

Singing when she grooved into Caritas was definitely unexpected. The slow bump 'n grind was nice--good to know she still had it--but still, definitely a hello she hadn't intended.

"Stacks on deck. Patron on ice.
We can pop bottles all night
Baby you can have whatever you like
I said you can have whatever you like.
Yeah."

[breakfastlover]

It was perhaps unexpected for her, but it was not for him. Well, not at a level of no knowing what was going on, anyway.

Because that was kind of an Entrance with a capital E.

"So it got you too, huh?"

[borealpriestess]

"There's another thing going on?" Verity asked, doing a quick shimmy on her way to the bar. "Well, that explains that, I guess. So, we sing and dance like extras in a musical today or something?"

She'd been lucky enough not to sing about feelings yet. Give her time.

[breakfastlover]

Mike meant to explain that there was almost a tradition with this happening once every year or so, with random bursts of singing throughout a day, but what actually came out was, "There is this thing that's like talking except you don't talk; you sing."

He shrugged. It was enough of an explanation, really.

"You sing."