[ If she was hoping to make offense, he's already too wrapped up in himself to really have his feelings hurt. He shrugs again, a troublemaking smile flickering across his face already.
The sound guy busies himself talking to a few stage hands, and they look at John quizzically from across the lounge before shrugging as well, and setting up a stool, mic and guitar with the speedy professionalism typical of a jazz club. ]
Suit yourself, love.
[ He leaves his coat with her, suddenly feeling as though it's ill-fitting. It's a part of his look that he adopted long after the punk phase of his life, anyway. The sleeves of his shirt get rolled up as he perches on the stool and picks up the guitar.
John is surprisingly devoid of his usual snappy remarks as he starts into a few chords on the strings, wavering at first until he remembers how to play. He clears his throat, and goes into a song that, like her, is from the heart and speaks to life experience. But rather than the philosophical, cerebral trips she sends people on, it is about the ugly things that people do to each other - hatred, poverty, and violence. But there is a certain defiance to it, to people's ability to endure and overcome and make the world less awful. His voice is undisciplined, but not terrible to listen to, and he's making an effort since he's got people's attention anyway. ]
no subject
The sound guy busies himself talking to a few stage hands, and they look at John quizzically from across the lounge before shrugging as well, and setting up a stool, mic and guitar with the speedy professionalism typical of a jazz club. ]
Suit yourself, love.
[ He leaves his coat with her, suddenly feeling as though it's ill-fitting. It's a part of his look that he adopted long after the punk phase of his life, anyway. The sleeves of his shirt get rolled up as he perches on the stool and picks up the guitar.
John is surprisingly devoid of his usual snappy remarks as he starts into a few chords on the strings, wavering at first until he remembers how to play. He clears his throat, and goes into a song that, like her, is from the heart and speaks to life experience. But rather than the philosophical, cerebral trips she sends people on, it is about the ugly things that people do to each other - hatred, poverty, and violence. But there is a certain defiance to it, to people's ability to endure and overcome and make the world less awful. His voice is undisciplined, but not terrible to listen to, and he's making an effort since he's got people's attention anyway. ]