cruisin' and playin' the radio

[lifepreserver]

WHO: Marty and YOU!
WHERE: Around Heropa (beach, school, shopping district, wherever)
WHEN: any time within October; dates may vary thread to thread
WHAT: Marty out and about Heropa
WARNINGS: none, will add if needed!

a. frozen banana stand

[There's a small, yellow frozen banana stand strategically placed near one of the busier beaches in Heropa. It's compact enough that it only allows space for a maximum of two or three people within it, and that's before taking into consideration the bunches of bananas that line the walls, as if to remind passerby's that yes, the employees here are selling you banana products.

That is, if you didn't already get the idea after seeing FROZEN BANANAS plastered in large, bold font above the stand itself. And if you were truly that blind, well, you probably didn't notice the blinking lights lining the window-like opening to the stall, in which stands one of its employees.

Marty leans against the counter, half-afraid if he pushes too hard the whole thing will fall over. If he's got the look of a bored teenager, it's because he is; bored and slightly embarrassed, given his kitschy banana t-shirt complete with sticker, which reads, HI, MY NAME IS ______. (Because he forgot to fill it in.)

The DeLorean is parked along the nearest street he could find along the beachside, within viewing distance. Marty watches as people mill by, not really looking excited to be here.]

b. that high school they all go to (classroom)

[Marty was never a perfect student, but he wasn't a terrible one, either. He's not usually prone to sleeping in class (he's often flirted with the idea more than he's followed through with it), but between having to readjust to a new lifestyle in Heropa and not having a great sleep schedule even before he arrived here, he's just plain tired.

And it shows, as he sits in class at the end of the day, head on his desk. Asleep.

He's seated in the back, so it's easier for him to get away with it, being ducked down behind everyone else. But when the buzzer goes off, denoting that it's time to go home, and everyone gets up to leave, Marty startles awake. He jolts up, a single sheet of notebook paper stuck to his forehead.]

Present! [He says automatically, brain still catching up to him.]

c. heropa shopping district

[Today, Marty stands in front of a music store, hands in his pockets and peering in. It's obvious he's window shopping; he has the look of someone who obviously can't afford what he's looking at, but appreciates it nonetheless.

If you're passing by, he might spontaneously say:]

Isn't she a nice one?

[If you try to figure out what the teen is referring to, you may notice a shiny red electric guitar on display, lined up along with a few others that appear just as appealing to any musician, would-be or otherwise.]

d. choose your own adventure

[Did we have something planned? Do you have something else you'd want to play out? Feel free to create your own starter or send me a msg and I'll do so for you.]

Comments

b

[lyingheart]

[ Annie pauses in slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder, turning to cast a sidelong glance at the new guy who'd been in the seat behind her. Her eyes flick up to the notebook paper still stuck to his forehead. One wonders if there's less motivation to make it through classes here simply because expectations on what rode on scholastic achievements was so different. Failing to achieve top marks throughout wasn't being left out of entire lives that were otherwise damn hard to achieve.

Then again, what she'd been striving for had everything to do with cutting in to the top. She isn't working to get to the heart of things here.

It's much more relaxing. ]

Class ended.

[ Annie says, adjusting the strap of her messenger bag across her shoulder. She gestures toward her own forehead. ]

There's something... [ there. ]

[lifepreserver]

[Marty's slowly coming to his senses when he hears a voice next to him, and he glances over at the girl standing nearby. He squints at her gesture, unsure at first, before he realizes the meaning -- a hand goes up to grab the paper off of his forehead, and he puts it back down on his desk.]

...Thanks. [He says, awkwardly. A quick glance to the clock on the wall would confirm that, indeed, class is over. He frowns with near disbelief.]

There's no way. I only closed my eyes for a minute. [Marty runs a hand through his hair, already mussed on one side from sleeping on the desk.]

[lyingheart]

[ Annie looks the same direction, lifting her brows a little as she eyes the time. ]

Your minutes seem to run long.

[ But look, he's up, and he's not going to go walking around with paper stuck to his forehead, so she's probably done her good samaritan deed for the next week. as far as school's concerned. ]

ImPort or transfer?

[ She needs to work on asking questions while she starts to walk away, but she does want to keep moving. Heropa High has her attention for exactly as long as it needs to, and then she's off for the next part of her day. ]

[lifepreserver]

Time always gets away from me.

[Good thing Marty has always had an innate sense of urgency within him when it concerns time (how ironic that is, in retrospect), and now that it's time to leave, he's more than willing to pack his things up and head out.]

Um... imPort. [he manages, stuffing books and papers into his backpack on the floor, zipping it up, then standing and tossing it over his shoulder. It's still a strange term for him to say and hear. He can't help but think that it makes them all sound like commodities or trade goods.] Just got "ported in" a few days ago. You?

c

[kinesia]

[ Heropa is huge. Grey has been here for a whole day now, and this is what he's learned. He hadn't really slept - had found sleep impossible in the apartment they'd put him in, because it was so empty and quiet - but his plan of staying outside all day hadn't panned out either. Eventually, it had all been too much. Too much to take in, too many people he'd never seen before and who barely noticed him anyway, and too much space. It's not that he doesn't like the space. He loves it, and all that comes with it. But it makes him anxious after a while.

He's hoping today will be better. The shops don't make a lot of sense to him. He doesn't understand money yet, and he's never had to actually buy anything before anyway. The Train hadn't featured a lot of shops, at least not where Grey had been living. He spends his morning wandering the shopping district and just staring at everything that's there. So many things, and all of them look clean and all of them look new.

Grey is clean, too. His clothes look like he hasn't taken them off in several years (which he hasn't), but at least he's clean beneath them. They consist of a pair of faded pants and an orange hooded jacket, and that's it. The people around him are strange enough to Grey that if they give him strange looks, he barely notices. They're utterly foreign to him.

So is the boy at the window. Grey stops in his tracks, startled, and looking around him to search for whatever woman the boy means. Who? Who is nice? Then his eyes slide to the....thing, in the window, and he sends a questioning look back at the boy. You don't mean that, do you? What even is it? Grey lifts his shoulders in a shrug, and then pushes up his left sleeve. He holds out his arm to show the boy a word tattooed there - 'What?' - and nods back at the guitar. What is it, why are we talking about it? ]

[lifepreserver]

[Marty takes a second to look over the man who's stopped upon hearing his question; he notes the state of his clothes, but beyond that, he doesn't think much about it. He's not exactly dressed to impress either, wearing jeans and a plain white long-sleeved t-shirt.

What's more curious is the man's tattoo. At first, Marty thinks to himself, Why would someone tattoo the word 'what' on their arm? before it dawns on him that this was the man's form of communication. Well. It certainly wouldn't be the strangest thing he's ever seen. Probably not even in the top fifteen percentile of Very Strange Things. In fact, it would almost be expected if this man was an imPort like himself.

So Marty, he just nearly shrugs in return with that lopsided grin of his, sliding a hand out of his pocket and gesturing to the guitar, which shines in both sunlight and store light.]

That. The guitar. Kind of looks like a Fender Strat, but I can't tell. All the brands in this world are mixed-up and unrecognizable sometimes.

[kinesia]

[ Grey looks back at the window. So that thing’s a guitar, is it? The boy seems to have an interest in it, but like so many things here, it’s new to Grey. And it’s clearly not a she, the knowledge of which makes him slide his eyes doubtfully back to Marty.

There is something about it that’s familiar, though. The vague shape, the strings…

He’s seen something like that before, briefly. The memory isn’t entirely a pleasant one, but it’s the only one he’s got to call on. He doesn’t have the words for this on his body. He’d never needed to talk about it before. So he nods at the guitar, gestures at Marty, and then lifts his arms to mime the playing of a violin. That’s what it reminds him of, and this is his way of asking if Marty plays. Never mind that the guitar looks too big to hold that way; he just wonders if it’s the same idea, if music comes from it. If a fender is like a violin, though hopefully with less of the accompanying gunshots. We’ll see. ]

[lifepreserver]

[Marty watches curiously, trying not to appear too dumbfounded when Grey begins to play the imaginary violin. Reading his expression, he gets the sense that he's being asked another question pertaining to the guitar itself.]

No, not a violin. [He clarifies, or at least, he hopes he does. Marty takes his other hand out of his pocket, holding both up and situating them so that he appears to be playing the air guitar, to compliment Grey's "air violin". One hand moves along invisible frets while the other strums unheard chords.] A guitar. [He says again, albeit redundantly. At least there definitely aren't any accompanying gunshots.

Though it feels a little silly doing this, he realizes, when it would be much easier to show Grey if he were really interested. So, while still "strumming":]

We can probably just go in if you want to hear how one really sounds like...?

a

[unhand]

[Hook stops and looks at the frozen banana stand, looking perplexed. Food stalls aren't new to him, but he is from a place where the only way to keep things cold is an ice box or magical ice powers. Though he knows about freezers, it still seems like an astonishingly strange thing to do.]

What is the point of freezing a banana?

[lifepreserver]

[Marty looks up from his reverie (or, more like his daze) to see who had addressed him. He straightens a little, no longer leaning on the counter, and brings up a hand to rub the back of his neck.]

People like cool foods when it's warm and balmy, and even though it's October, it's Florida, so... [So October in Florida can still be warm and balmy, is his meaning.] And anyway, they're desserts, too. You can dip them in chocolate.

[All of that is said with an implied "I guess" at the end of it. He doesn't sound very committed to this particular job of his, but he'll make friendly banana conversation when asked.]

[unhand]

...so they're chocolate bananas. [That sounds a lot more appealing than just... freezing fruit.]

[lifepreserver]

Well...

[He'd try to parse the details, but. Well. They pretty much are, aren't they?]

Yeah, I guess. Want to give one a try?

A.

[bullysandwicher]

[ what's wrong about frozen bananas, really? Because No1 certainly loves them a lot, but then again, Noi loves all the food she can get her hands on - except for mushrooms. And Heropa is warm enough for frozen bananas, a fresh snack so Noi says and that's the whole reason why she enters the tiny store. Being huge as she is, there is a big chance she will bump into things and probably break others, but look at her, not even caring (make the store bigger, will you?).

She is wearing her mask, as always, and at first she doesn't see who Marty is and just makes her order for two frozen bananas, but she pauses when finally she recognizes him ]

Ah! The tiny car guy!

[lifepreserver]

[Marty recognizes the figure immediately -- it's difficult not to, she's so big. The fear the stall might topple over if she bumps into the sides rises in him again, but when he looks at the new customer directly, this apprehension is swept away in favor of mild surprise and recognition.]

Hey, it's the scary mask lady. [he says with a grin, mostly teasing. It's still a little intimidating, sure, but she had been friendly enough when they spoke before, if not a little strange.]

And by the way, I'll have you know that said car is not "tiny". [He leans closer on the countertop, motioning out towards where the DeLorean is parked, looking vaguely proud of himself.] See? Back to normal.

[bullysandwicher]

[ noi doesn't seem to mind it at all that he addresses her like that. She places her hands on her hips as turns her head to look at the car, smiling under her mask ]

See? You aren't so useless with your power after all. [ after a joyful laugh, the woman pulls her mask off, placing it in her pocket ]

So this was the job they gave you? Lucky!

[lifepreserver]

Lucky? [He scoffs, looking at her more directly now that she's not wearing the mask; he just shrugs off the useless power comment, taking it in stride. Even he thought it was pretty useless, anyway.]

Exactly how is me being stuck here lucky? I'm bored to tears.

b

[theoryandcalculation]

[Rei can't judge, he's been there too many times himself. In fact, he's been nodding off in class all day, having stayed up until two in the morning reading Spandex and Fighting Spirt: A Critical Look at America's Heroes Over the Last Century.

Luckily, he's not the one who's actually asleep today. He does pause in gathering up his things to pull the paper stuck to Marty's forehead off.]

You've got this... um.

[There's pencil marks pressed to his forehead. Rei quickly reaches up like he's adjusting his glasses so he can stop himself from laughing.

Composure back, he says,] You should probably go wash your forehead.

[lifepreserver]

[Marty just... blinks as the notebook paper is pulled off of his head, vaguely thankful if not still a little bleary from waking up so suddenly. He looks up at his fellow student, noting his amusement.

He'd almost be embarrassed if it even qualified in the top twenty most embarrassing things that's ever happened to him. Confused, he reaches up to touch at his forehead, rubbing at it-]

Wait- what? Why?

[-and making the smears a little bigger....]

[theoryandcalculation]

You've got pencil smeared all over your forehead.

[He gestures at his own forehead like that will help him explain.]

If you keep rubbing it liked that you'll just make it worse.

[lifepreserver]

[Marty immediately drops his hand.]

Oh... great. [A sigh. He has no doubt he looks like a dork.] Well, thanks for letting me know. Geez, how long was I asleep? I think I ended up missing all of the class lecture.

c!

[workout]

[ Scott glances over at the comment, but it only takes him a second to catch on to what the guy's referring to. Mostly because he's looking at the same one — it's similar to the guitar he left at home, just about a thousand times nicer. ]

Yeah. Kind of retro. [ Well, everything's kind of retro in Heropa, but you get the idea. ] Also kind of expensive.

[ Not that he's complaining. It's more of a flat observation; he's used to things being out of his price range. ]

[lifepreserver]

[Marty looks over at Scott, giving him a sort of lopsided smile. It's nice to talk to someone else who can appreciate fine art; because that's what a well-made instrument is. Art.]

Yeah, probably a little out of my price range, too. But these places will usually let you plug into an amp and jam out for a little; that way you can pretend that you at least own a guitar that nice.

[Actually, it doesn't sound like a bad idea. But first, he's curious:]

You play?

c!

[symmachy]

[Scathach has never been instrumentally inclined, but when she hears his comment she pauses anyway. Just because she never much played herself doesn't mean she can't appreciate it. Besides, she was part of a band once. The singer, but still.

The redhead pauses beside him, inspecting the guitar as well.]

She is.

[lifepreserver]

[Marty glances over at the redhead with a small lopsided grin.]

Kind of makes me wish that my job didn't pay me in bananas.

[Peanuts, really, would be the proper phrase. But bananas is funnier, a sort of little inside joke of his own, given that he works part-time at a frozen banana stand.]

Otherwise I might be able to afford it someday. [But he merely gives a shrug.] Guess I have my axe at home waiting for me if I ever get to go back.

[symmachy]

[It takes her a moment to realize that this is clearly a joke. Because honestly, she's heard of jobs that legitimately paid in food and it wouldn't be so out of character for it to happen here. But once she gets the joke, Scatty smiles--no teeth. No need to freak out some random stranger on the street.]

Did you play often at home?