[The wall communicator flickers on by itself, as they do sometimes. It reveals someone new: a middle-aged, moustachioed man whose face is caked in stage makeup, and whose suit is torn and scorched in places
( Read more... )
[He takes note of the new video feed and just about chokes on his cigarette, as he's apparently apt to do these days. His eyes widen and he grins slightly, half out of dread and the other out of the possibilities.]
[vehemently] And there are, Mr. Cohen. You won't believe what talentless hacks we've got around here. [As soon as he takes his finger off the button, he snickers.]
I don't doubt it, sir. I'm so glad you've come t'clean up the scene, Mr. Cohen. I haven't even listened t'music that isn't yours, and I'm not about t'start now.
[He almost doesn't let go of the voice button in time. He laughs almost hysterically for a moment or two; panting, he composes himself again and swallows hard, clicking on the button and taking on an excited tone of voice.]
Just never had the time, sir, but oh did I try. Your art is just inspirin'. You really opened my eyes, sir. [sounding vicious] There are a lot'a charlatans out there, always slanderin' your good name - like that Anna Culpepper. Thank God she disappeared.
this is the most beautiful thread everpresto_prestoMay 20 2010, 20:49:59 UTC
[If you make his head any larger, Sinclair, he won't be able to fit through the door of his room. Which would be a shame, because:]
I would love to meet you, Ram. Perhaps I might even be persuaded to play for you... a record simply doesn't match up to a live performance, and-- [his voice drops almost an octave] --it's been a while since I had intelligent eyes looking at me from the stands.
omg it just keeps getting better.worldentireMay 20 2010, 21:07:22 UTC
[SO THAT'S WHAT HE'LL DO!] ... A-are you serious? You'll come and play for me? [sounds like his very universe is about to be made] M-Mr. Cohen, that's... I-I'm so honored...
ohgod you guys what did Sander do to deserve this XDpresto_prestoMay 20 2010, 21:44:07 UTC
I would be betraying my duty as an artist to refuse!
[he's starting to sound as though he's talking at least half to himself - which is a return to form, really, seeing as he spends so much time in the concert halls within his own head.]
he decided to show up RIGHT as their turf war started, that's what. XDworldentireMay 20 2010, 21:49:44 UTC
[choked up from the passion this opportunity gives] O-oh, Mr. Cohen, that's... Of course! I accept! Nothin' else in the world would bring me as much joy as hearin' you live!
/giggles. evilly.worldentireMay 20 2010, 21:59:23 UTC
I'll send a bot to you, Mr. Cohen - it's glowin' gold, easily seen. I can't wait t'meet you! [shuts the feed off and laughs like a madman, one of his bots whirling away - gets a rabbit mask out of the closet and follows it, putting on a suit jacket as well]
[Cohen waits for the bot with increasing excitement, his fingers tapping the air again as he wonders just what to play for his secret admirer. A lighthearted popular tune? One of the imposing scherzi which he's never stopped refining to perfection
( ... )
Say, is that Sander Cohen I hear?
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But of course it is!
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Well, hell. And here I thought I'd be trapped in Wonderland without some decent entertainment. And how're you doin' today, Mr. Cohen?
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Aren't you lucky I'm here? My performances still go on, as long as there's a pair of eyes, a pair of ears, a pair of hands to appreciate them...!
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[He sounds like he's criticizing rotten food that someone's shoved onto his plate, and there's not a trace of irony in it.]
They'll learn what makes art.
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It lightens an artist's spirit to know that there are still those out there with the wit to remain loyal. Why haven't we spoken before, loyal ram?
[This is the best day ever.]
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Just never had the time, sir, but oh did I try. Your art is just inspirin'. You really opened my eyes, sir. [sounding vicious] There are a lot'a charlatans out there, always slanderin' your good name - like that Anna Culpepper. Thank God she disappeared.
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I would love to meet you, Ram. Perhaps I might even be persuaded to play for you... a record simply doesn't match up to a live performance, and-- [his voice drops almost an octave] --it's been a while since I had intelligent eyes looking at me from the stands.
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[he's starting to sound as though he's talking at least half to himself - which is a return to form, really, seeing as he spends so much time in the concert halls within his own head.]
It's a duty I couldn't bear to disobey...
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[Of course, he can't ask a simple locational question without turning it into an epic quest.]
Direct me to it - and I will play for you.
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