elnysa | Video; un: rtozier

[The feed begins with a man in his late thirties, one hand welded to his forehead in consternation. Adjacent is a swanky looking turntable, and stacks of records can be seen on a table behind the sofa. The titles are indiscernible but it looks to be a ballpark of about fifty albums.

He stares into the camera, desolate.]

All right kids, I'll concede: my folks would have cracked my radio if they heard how much I let The Doors holler out of it. I know it's a pattern and every generation thinks the one after it is a tasteless pack of miscreants. And I've been keeping an open mind. I can't afford not to. Music was my job, and for the most part the stuff hitting the airwaves had been pretty solid. Whoever's been picking out tunes for me up above has been doing pretty damn swell so far, too. Soundgarden was great, Lauren Hill, the Alabama Shakes — there's a lot of good shit I've missed out on because my apocalypse hit so early.

[He takes a deep breath.]

But today, I need an explanation.

[He takes a record out of a sleeve. Sets it on the player and closes his eyes in bitter resignation as the thing gets rolling.

His jaw clenches tight as the music starts.

"Hiya Barbie!"
"Hi Ken!"
"Do you wanna go for a ride?"
"Sure Ken!"
"Jump in!"
"I'M A BARBIE GIRL! IN A BARBIE WO-O-ORLD! LIFE IN PLASTIC, IT'S FANTASTIC!!"

A comely but irate redheaded woman stomps into the background.]

If you don’t shut that off, there’s going to be cats clawing at our window to check out who’s dying!

[Richie rips the record off, vein pulsing in his forehead.]

Music is dying, Bev! It's over! We've lost the war!

[She scoffs, disappearing once more. Richie looks to the camera.

He snaps the record in two with a malicious crack and tosses the pieces behind him.]

I don't know who allowed this to happen, but you ought to be ashamed of yourselves.

[The video cuts out. Please deposit your apologies and condolences below.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That poor thing doesn't need a pyre, just a touch of glue and somebody who understands it.

You're wrong and I'm pretending you didn't say that.

Such judgement over a simple matter such as what I love. I need a moment, the nostalgia's getting me a little -

[A shivery little breath doesn't entirely hide a laugh.]

Is coming over the extent of the request, or should I prepare myself for something outrageous once I'm there?

[Richie keeps quiet for that teeny flutter of a queer heart, pining for the dirty disco of old. His mirth still burns bright in the wide smile, though, and the twinkle in his eyes.]

I'm no extortionist. The pleasure of your company's more than enough.

[It will also give him further excuse to avoid visiting their apartment. He's still feeling too skittish to sit on that couch, risk Byerly coming home halfway through and lobbing choice barbs at him when he's not fit to bark back. The man was protective of Prior, after all, and though they're on peaceable terms now Richie can't help treading lightly anyhow. Once bitten, twice shy, and all that jazz.]

[Although he's a little too transparent on some aspects of that, and it doesn't go unremarked.]

Well I asked you over weeks ago, just think of all the pleasure you've missed. [There's no bite to the comment, it's just that Prior will only take bullshit if the other party's aware he knows that's what it is.]

And I have manners, I can't just show empty handed. What if I pick up lunch along the way?

[Ugh. He sucks back a gulp of air through his teeth, wincing with one eye pinched.]

Must we dwell so much on sins past? You know my visa's only valid half the time when I cross the borders of your door.

Lunch would be fine and dandy. I'll cover drinks and dessert?

It's not really an embassy, you realize. Or if it is, it keeps a dual nationality - you're as welcome as anyone, whoever's home.

[And Richie's already describing twice the meal Prior could eat but no reason to put a damper on that.]

If you've got something in already, I'll leave dessert on the shelf. Any preference of cuisine?

[That still don't make it no more comfortable...

But he'll neglect to comment further. Prior's only going to insist he's welcome and nothing will be done to quell the jitters.]

None. Surprise me! I'm happy to get treated for once, such a rarity.

[Not at first perhaps, but call it aversion therapy. Avoiding an issue seldom improves it. Prior lets the issue drop for now, with a shrug.]

Oh don't pluck at my heartstrings that way. Now I'll have to bring something over without ulterior motives, too.

[he didn't sign up for this therapy package]

It's only speaking the truth, you know. I might melt quick as butter if you find something with a bit of kick. It's such a lonely life, cooking for one...

[He pauses.]

Well I mean, before Beverly showed up.

Oh I met her. Brief as it was, she left a fine impression. [And there had been enough familiarity even in her brief intrusion into Richie's video for some things to be inferred.] Although it feels somewhat unfair, there being practically more people here from Maine than Manhattan, for pitys sakes. But I'm glad you found each other.

[Alright, there's someone else here from Manhattan who wears Prior's exact face, albeit a younger version, and those might be stranger odds: because of that, they also don't count.]

Does this mean I'm feeding three?

Did you? [The brightness is amped to eleven in an instant.] She's a gem, isn't she? I met her when we were both scrape-kneed and cutting the last of our teeth.

[If he met the other "Prior" the first double take would be for the face. The second for the name — "Lois Lane" already gave him enough of a mental tussle. Might be for the best that he sticks with the WASP and shuns the spider.]

Uh, actually, I'm not sure. She's an independent agent, I'm sure she wouldn't mind either way. Would you like to have her along?

[Well isn't that something. Richie's usually bright to some - often sarcastic - degree, but Prior's not sure he's seen him light up to megawatt before.]

It's up to her - don't keep her on my account. Besides which, the server at Vino Veritas might get ideas if I upgrade the steak and oysters order a trois.

They'll suspect you of something desultory, will they? Can't let them down now can we? Uno momento por favor.

[He lifts off the couch and out of view, calling out to his roommate. He disappears, the edges of the conversation catching on the microphone in a wordless parry. He returns shortly, dropping into the cushions gaily and leaning back in.]

She'd be thrilled to have you, Pry! When do you plan on stopping by?

Video; un: rtozier

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Want to do an actual log thing or handwave it, its all cool beans with me and nemo!