(Untitled)

[belongsomeplace]

Jim's been feeling really good about his radio show lately. He'd never been that much of a talker before - a radio kind of talker that is; he was always a nervous talker but that's not the kind of talk that gets people listening - but he thinks he's getting better and better at it every week. Maybe he's not just getting better at talking when

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[broken_brushes]

"Hey," I greeted, the scene familiar, although it was usually me in the middle of all the records. "Jim, right?" We hadn't been formally introduced, but we both had radio shows, and it wasn't as if you missed when JAMES DEAN (As in the James Dean, Rebel without a Cause James Dean) was walking around in your general vicinity.

"Looking for new material?"

[belongsomeplace]

"Always," says Jim, smiling sheepishly up at her as he realizes he's all but boxed himself in again. It's kind of become a bad habit, when he gets lost in the many names and faces that he doesn't recognize. He grabs an album off the top of the nearest pile and shows it to her. "I don't suppose you've ever heard these guys, have you? Any good?"

[broken_brushes]

"Nine Inch Nails," I read, and then pulled a dubious face. "They're not bad, but they're not radio material, trust me." I cast a quick glance around at his various piles of record albums, and then squatted down to reach for one. "Coldplay is good," I opined as I passed him the album. "And, oh- the Stones." Grinning, I held Beggar's Banquet lovingly against my chest and tapped the cover. "This is an amazing album."

[belongsomeplace]

"Yeah?" he says, checking it out. The album, not her chest. "Amazing enough that I should put it on right now and give it a test drive?" He checks the other album out too, front and back. "I've heard some Stones before, but I've never even heard of Coldplay."

[jack_crew]

"Hey, man," Jack says cheerfully as he comes into the room, Sam strapped into some sort of baby carrying contraption Kate has made. A couple years ago, Jack knows he would've been freaked out by the idea of carrying a baby around with such ease, but that's just it. It's gotten easy.

"Looking for anything in particular?" he asks, glancing over the records.

[belongsomeplace]

"Looking for anything," says Jim, piling one more record atop the rest. There sure are a lot, and he's pretty sure no two are the same. "Hey, is that your little boy? Can I see him?"

[jack_crew]

"Of course," Jack says, although it's way easier to get Sam out of the contraption than it is to get him back in. He doesn't mind, though, he can always just carry him back to the Hamlet.

Without a noise, Sam lets Jack take him out, then looks at Jim solemnly as Jack crouches down to his level. "Sam, this is Jim."

[belongsomeplace]

"Hey, Sam!" says Jim, and thinks about how small he is, how much life he has left to live, all the things he has yet to experience for the first time. He's simultaneously jealous of him and sorry for him. "Welcome to the world."

[lionelthayer]

"This is a familiar sight," Lionel comments as he steps into the rec room. Familiar still that he doesn't really have anything to do and can see himself sifting through records with Jim for a little while. "Hey."

[belongsomeplace]

"I think I went and buried myself again," admits Jim with a little laugh. "I just got the urge after my show today. You know, that urge? Where you just want something new."

[lionelthayer]

"I do," Lionel replies, and sits down across from Jim. "Especially around here. I'm getting really sick of palm trees."

[belongsomeplace]

"Well, I'm not sure there's anything I can do about the palm trees," says Jim. "You're just going to have to wait for Christmas to roll around again, I think. But at least I've got my choice of music."

[fuckjazztoo]

Despite being in the rec room almost constantly, 1900 has yet to really notice the records until he sees someone surrounded by them. He isn't the biggest fan of records and, as a result, probably isn't going to be much help in the choosing of music. But he does like people, and wanders over casually.

"Hello." He pauses, then, "That's an awful lot of records."

[belongsomeplace]

"It's like the books," says Jim, nodding at the bookcase over yonder. "They just keep on coming and never seem to stop. Say, you got any favorites you want to point me towards? I'm looking for something, you know, new."

[fuckjazztoo]

"Would you believe me if I said I haven't listened to many records at all?" And the ones he has, he couldn't be bothered to remember the names of, at the time. Music with lyrics is teetering on the edge of being an alien concept to him.

[belongsomeplace]

"I don't know, I guess it's not so hard to believe," says Jim, "if you come from a place that doesn't have them. Lots of people around here did, but they got used to them being here."

[anewwaive]

Gideon hadn't really planned on sticking around the Compound, but it was hard not to spot Jim in the rec room. He walked over, looking at all the shit on the ground before looking at him.

"You get fucking attacked by the bookshelf or something?" he asked, raising an amused brow. Shit, he thought only Penny was the type to sit around with records.

[belongsomeplace]

"Just looking for some new stuff for the show," insists Jim, but he has to admit that the sheer volume of records around him is a little excessive. "You got anything you think I should give a listen?"

[anewwaive]

"Penny has a shitload of good albums back at our hut. Bet she'd let you borrow some if that's what you're looking for," he said, shrugging. He picked up one of the albums he had around him, making a face when he saw the artist. He held it out for Jim to take. "Yeah, you can fucking toss this one."

[belongsomeplace]

"Yeah, Penny's sure given me lots to listen to before," says Jim with a nod. She was the first person to show him a bunch of the things he likes the most now. "What's this, Lawrence Welk? Not your sort of music?"