(Untitled)

[sirjaggernaut]

The middle of a circus ring is a good place to give orders from. Mick supposed he gave a lot of them, but only what had to be given, in his opinion. He had a microphone and a megaphone, and used them both, but neither of them seemed to work out. The megaphone was too square for his taste, like some kind of school days phys-ed control freak. And the

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[ericclapper]

Eric glanced back at his brick wall momentarily, wondering how many feelings might've been spared if he'd decided to stand there rather than engage the others in conversation. he'd only left the wall to be with George and that had only caused trouble. Oh, well. George would find him eventually, John would hopefully get his fix and begin acting like nothing ever happened. An apology wouldn't go unnoticed, but he wouldn't hold his breath.

He spotted Mick sitting off to the side, nose in the schedule, biting ever so gently on the end of the whip he...what the hell was Mick doing with a whip? The possibilities were...intriguing, to say the least.

He stopped momentarily as his stomach did a couple of somersaults and he remembered how high he actually was. 'Don't close your eyes, Eric, you'll just fall over,' he thought. He approached Mick.

"Nice whip," he said with a coy grin. "What were those pills you gave me?"

[mickjaggernaut]

"I'm the ringleader," Mick said with childish delight, standing on tip-toes to make the most of his position and cracking the whip. Since it was a prop, ready to have the sound of it edited in later, and since he had no experience with whipping technique whatsoever, the rubber thing slapped into the ground lamely.

He pouted slightly and pulled the thing behind his body. Looked to distract Eric from that non-event,

"I don't remember, mate. If I gave you any pills I passed them on from Keefy. I don't spike anyone's senses to have my wicked way with them. -- why?"

[ericclapper]

"Thanks for clearing that up. I wasn't sure," Eric said, forming fists of his hands and rubbing his eyes. Had Keith actually given him the pills? He was a bit stoned anyway at the time, but he could distinctly recall watching Mick float off to the other end of the flat. "I feel like I'm in a hot air balloon. On mescaline. In another galaxy." He sighed in frustrated confusion. "Anyway, everyone I've had any contact with is cheesed off at me. Thought I'd check in with you before Lennon cripples me. Can I do anything?"

[mickjaggernaut]

"You're performing with the Dirty Mac, I'll tell you when you're on. Unless you'd like to do a Mick and Eric Variety Show too. Or a 'Take a Peep at Clapton' -- that'd be interesting, wouldn't it?" Mick grinned; big mouth, big smile. Bounced from one foot to the other.

[oxspider]

December in London had never been pleasant, and tonight was no exception. As John Entwistle waited for the orange glow of his cigarette to die down, staring across the dark street thoughtfully, he hunched his shoulders against the wind and tugged his grey fur coat closer to him, wishing he had thought to wear something a bit warmer beneath it than a thin leather shirt. Then again, he hadn't really planned on being outside, but he was already starting to tire of waiting around for the Stones to get their act together and therefore had stepped outside for a smoke. It wasn't much of a distraction, but it was a change of scenery, he supposed

[keithloon]

Keith knew where Kim was, and where John Lennon was; two people who often gave him pleasure. He did not know where John Entwistle was, and it made him a little bit jiggly and frustrated. He headed toward Mick: Mick would know where John was. Mick seemed to be in the know about everything; or at least he looked it, standing in the middle of a circus ring holding a clipboard

[oxspider]

The lack of the rest of the band was rather worrying, John thought as he stood on tiptoe and looked around. No one looked back or met his gaze for very long - despite his size, the Who’s bassist was fairly quiet and not too well known within this particular crowd, so not many people had noticed him or bothered to nod a greeting just yet, although he knew once he started being more sociable that would change. He had a few friends here outside of The Who - they were all on good terms with all five of the Stones, and Eric Clapton, a particular friend of Pete’s, was someone he saw often, as were the two Beatles who seemed to be avoiding each other, John noted. Although most people couldn’t tell if they didn’t know him, he had a definite knack for reading people, and he could tell just by looking at them that there was a definite rift between the two guitarists of the formerly moptopped band that had led the charge for them all. Not his business, of course, but it was definitely something to notice and keep in mind

[keithloon]

"Oh, I don't know," Loony let out a dramatic, upward sigh that blew his fringe upward. He liked the feeling, so he did it again, this time with more spit. "B-bbrrrr! Look at my hair John. -- but I don't know, Mick's doing all that over there -- he looks busy. I'm sure he'll know what's going on. He told me where you were, he was very good with that."

[lennonofbag]

John had hung around outside the dressing-room door for a few minutes, unable to hear more than the odd murmur and George's low, husky laugh. It wasn't a sound he'd heard much of late, he realised with a pang of regret. The little scene earlier was an echo of the same resentments and bitterness that had spilled out repeatedly since Rishikesh, John seemingly unable to keep from lashing out and earning yet more disapproval from George.

When had Harrison's regard become important to him? The awe-struck kid who'd once driven him nuts was long gone; in his place this...man, this painfully honest man who wanted, no, insisted on being his equal, who had more recently gained the upper hand in personal terms, if not professional. He longed for that old sense of control, to be in charge of the situation but that had never been enough, had it? It wasn't the acquiescent kid he was drawn to; it was this George, quietly self-assured and refusing to bend to John's will, who engaged his interest. He knew this, although how to handle it was more of

[somethinggeorge]

"Fuck you? Not bloody likely. After all, not an hour ago, I seem to recall you saying, 'What I need, Yoko provides. In every respect.' You couldn't possibly have changed your mind on that already, could you?"

[lennonofbag]

"And why the fuck would that matter to you, son? You're quite clearly otherwise engaged."

[ericclapper]

"It's not what it looks like..." Eric said, trailing off. He chuckled and raised his hand to his forehead, then continued, "Not EXACTLY. Can't you just give him a break, John?"

George and Eric Redux

[somethinggeorge]

George heaved a sigh of relief as John left the room. He turned back to Eric, who sat slumped in a chair and raised his hands apologetically. Eric's face betrayed an unhappiness significant to make George ponder what he dared do in such a public place.

Looking towards the door, he appeared to assess the possibilities before arriving at his decision. Advancing on Eric with a look of determination, he dropped to his knees and took Eric's face between his palms. He smiled at Eric's befuddled look before covering his mouth in a passionate kiss.

Re: George and Eric Redux

[ericclapper]

Eric reached up and placed his palms on either side of George's neck, opened his mouth a bit more and forced his tongue greedily against George's. He'd been dying for a kiss like this -- he felt he could die now, actually, completely satisfied.

He pulled back quickly, glancing over to the door. "I could get carried away..." he whispered to George. For a moment he thought of George's apparent willingness to recommence with Lennon. It couldn't be possible to go from that to this, not without some unfortunate reality that he knew he'd never grasp while his head floated independently of his neck. "I was thinking...I check out a lot, don't I?"

Re: George and Eric Redux

[somethinggeorge]

George pulled back and searched Eric's face thoughtfully. "Yeah. You do." He smiled as he stood up and continued, "But then you check back in and you seem to pick right up on what's going on."

George pulled a chair closer to sit right beside Eric. Sprawling with legs outstretched, he added, "Sorry about that. He doesn't know what he wants, you realize. Just knows he's never satisfied. And he can't bear the thought that someone else might get something he's pushed away himself."

Re: George and Eric Redux

[ericclapper]

"It's alright," Eric replied, "It isn't your fault. He makes everything impossible." Eric twisted toward George and flashed him a sly smile. "I'm more inclined to believe it's nothing to do with taking away from me and everything to do with how irresistible you are." Eric chuckled a bit and rested his head on his hand. "Maybe it is your fault..."

[jonesiestone]

Brian no longer wanted to be here. He had gotten to the point where all he wanted to do was go home, to curl up in bed with a glass of wine and sleep, to pull the blankets over his head and hide from the world and the faceless yellow crowd who followed him and bothered him and wanted his autograph or his time or a word or his cooperation. Mick, following him like it was going to help, chasing after him like a mother hen and yelling in his ear - do this, do that, don’t go anywhere, stop sulking about, get it together. He wanted it to end

Brian Jones and George

[somethinggeorge]

George left the dressing room a few paces behind Eric and looked around at the groups of people laughing and talking as they passed down the hallway. As he passed the gents' room, he decided to make a quick detour and nudged Eric to indicate he was stopping at the loo. Eric nodded and continued down the hall. They'd catch up with each other later.

Pushing the door open, George noticed a figure slumped against the opposite wall, head in hands, sobbing from the sound of it. For a moment, he considered backing out quietly and leaving the dejected figure to his private woe. Then he recognized the fur-clad man as Brian Jones and he quickly entered and closed the door behind him.

"Brian?" he asked tentatively. "Are you all right, mate?"

Re: Brian Jones and George

[jonesiestone]

He did not look up at the sound of the voice and the quiet thunk of the door sliding back into place - he was half afraid to see who it was, half unable to, so far had he slid into his own dark hole and gotten mired down there. God, he was a mess, a fucking snivelling little wreck...but that was Mick's voice talking again, and it made his shoulders shake all the harder. Christ, it wasn't Mick, was it? No - no, it was a more familiar voice, someone gentler, less demanding, more equal - Charlie? Couldn't be Charlie, he wasn't here yet, fuck it...but it was a friend, a friend, wasn't it

Re: Brian Jones and George

[somethinggeorge]

George looked with concern at the friend he had known for so many years. Brian's troubles with the Stones mirrored his own. Mick and Keef, the songwriters and egomaniacs of the group, were as solidly in control of the Stones as John and Paul were of the Beatles. Brian's interest in Indian music paralleled his own. Brian's skills as a guitarist and his importance to the band had been disparaged in the last year or two, particularly as his drug use had increased.

Thinking to save Brian's dignity, George quickly advanced to the urinal and moved to relieve himself. "Just here to take a piss," he offered laconicaly. "You?"