Outside the Groovy Tunes, Saturday Morning

[furnaceface]

Today had been a day full of fits and starts, and it wasn't even noon yet. Jono had been planning on doing the last of his moving today, maybe rounding up a small posse and recruiting them for help dragging his furniture from his old Boards apartment up to the new one at the Groovy Tunes. Instead, he'd gone for one last wander through the sets and props storage to make certain he hadn't left anything behind there, and had quickly discovered an old box of spray paint that he'd bought out of pocket for one of the sets. Normally, he would have just left it behind, donated it to the theatre's cause or something, but today, on a whim, he'd picked it up and carried it back with him to Groovy Tunes.

And before he'd even stepped inside, he couldn't help but notice that the storefront was looking a bit in need of an update, and while he'd never painted anything in his life, suddenly he had it in his head that maybe today would be a good day to try painting a mural or something. He realized exactly how ridiculously ambitious that plan was as he reached into the box and pulled out a spray can. But that didn't stop him from giving it a go all the same. And between the music notes and the cassette tapes and vinyl records and even the reflective iridescence on the CDs he was painting, the whole arrangement was turning out... pretty epic, actually.

'Huh,' he thought to himself as he stepped back to admire his handiwork. 'This is unexpected.'

[OOC: Open!]

Comments

[sharp_as_knives]

After making his way to the island, Hannibal couldn't detect anything else strange, like when they'd all gone deaf and been attacked. There were two people likely to know what was going on, and Dracula was unlikely to be awake, so he headed for Jono's new place.

He eyed the mural Jono was in the process of finishing and raised an eyebrow. "Very nice."

[furnaceface]

See, what Jono wanted to do was turn around and say, 'Thank you. I have no bloody idea where the ability to do this came from, but I'm not entirely unhappy with it.'

What Jono actually did was turn around and nod hello to Hannibal, and, while he certainly thought about saying just that, absolutely nothing was actually said.

...

Well. This was awkward.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal waited for a moment, then saw that Jono apparently wasn't going to say anything. Maybe he was still focused on the art; it was easy to lose yourself in creating.

He waved at the mural. "I didn't know you could paint."

[furnaceface]

Jono's reply to that was a shrug of his shoulders, looking back at the mural before trying again.

'Neither did I? This was really mostly a whim. Are you getting any of this? Test, one, two?'

... Okay, now he was looking frustrated. Not at Hannibal, at himself, wrinkling his nose and lifting a finger to tap the side of his head. Hello, was this thing on?

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal frowned, picking up on the frustration if nothing else. "Jono?"

[furnaceface]

Please excuse Jono for a moment, Hannibal. He needed to cap his spray can, toss it back into the cardboard box he'd carried it over in along with all of the other colours, and then take a second to gesture vehemently about how pissed off at everything he was right now. Of course he'd gone bloody mute. Why not? Because being to paint would somehow make up for that and it was probably temporary, but it was a bloody pain in the sodding arse.

... Which mostly was going to look like him waving a hand at his face, and then at Hannibal, and then making a fist and punching a bare patch of wall. Which was brick, so... ow.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal grimaced. "Well, I suppose that answers my question as to odd things going on this weekend." He reached for Jono's hand. "Anything broken?"

[furnaceface]

Jonothon gave his shoulder a shrug, and then offered his hand to Hannibal for inspection. His knuckles were bloodied up, but he'd learned how to throw a punch over the years. He'd bruise pretty fiercely, but that was likely the worst of it.

He was not particularly pleased with anything today. He'd cope. He'd dealt with this before. But it was a pain.

[sharp_as_knives]

A bit more literally than usual, if he kept punching walls.

"I woke up this morning barely able to smell," Hannibal said as he looked Jono's hand over. Well, able to smell like a normal person, but it amounted to the same thing. "I haven't noticed any invasions so far, however. I suppose we can only hope this won't last long."

He confirmed bloody scrapes with dirt in them and incipient bruising, but no breaks. "I can bandage this, if you like. And yes, I'm aware you could do it yourself, but it would be much more awkward one-handed."

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

Kenzi hadn't noticed anything particularly weird about today. Yet. So grabbing a mocha, she'd headed over to Groovy Tunes to see if Jonothon needed any help.

"Holy Banksy, dude. What brought this on?"

[furnaceface]

By this point, at least, Jono was well aware that his voice seemed to be broken. So he wasn't going to waste any effort attempting to project his thoughts at Kenzi, just waving his hello and then giving his shoulders a shrug.

A moment later, he gestured toward the cardboard box full of spray paint. She'd probably recognize them from the props room at the Boards. Odds were, she'd worked with them more than he ever had.

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

"Okaaay." Weird that Jonothon was staying quiet. But hey, maybe he was in the zone? Kenzi grinned widely and picked up one of her favorite glitter-blue cans and started shaking it. "Mind if I do some background then?"

[furnaceface]

Jono considered that offer for a moment. If she did anything he was going to be angry about, he could just paint over it, no harm done, right? He glanced at the paint can, and then looked square at Kenzi before nodding and waving a dismissive hand at the wall. Apparently today was graffiti day at the Groovy Tunes and anyone willing to paint things that weren't dicks on the wall was welcome to have at it.

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

Pfftt, like Jonothon would ever deserve that. Heh.

Kenzi was just enjoying the fun of making swirly blue bits of sky as high as she could reach, humming along (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PTtPEPV-yZc). "You need help moving anything that's left?" Swirl! SWOOOSH. "We need some tunes... ~And they say, 'Goldfish have no memory' --I guess their lives are much like mine~.."

Over Kenzi's head, someone might notice a few hazy goldfish, swimming in the air.

[furnaceface]

Yeah, the fish were difficult to miss. Jonothon watched her paint for a moment, and then watched the fish, and then kind of squinted a bit.

Ah, Fandom. Fandom bloody island.

Was it rude to point? Because he was going to do just that, mostly because he couldn't really bring up the presence of the little haze-fishes otherwise.

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

"What?" Okay, that was getting... "~From the shape of your shaved head, I recognized your silhouette...~" Kenzi looked up just in time to see a shaved-headed Jonothon floating about her head, and startled, dropping the paint can. "The hell!?"

The vague illusion popped like a soap bubble when she stopped singing.

[furnaceface]

Jonothon was, incidentally, deciding then and there to never shave his head. Ever.

He shrugged, though, because that was absolutely a helpful response. He had no idea, Kenzi. It was your goldfish soap bubble, not his.

[nobloodymessiah.livejournal.com]

Eleanor couldn't stand being in her room, but talking to other people kept ending rather disastrously. So she set about to wander through town. At least that way, she couldn't be locked in.

She stopped at her soon-to-be-place-of-employment, distracted by the gorgeous wall mural.

"I didn't realize you were so talented," she said lightly.

[furnaceface]

You and him both, Eleanor. You and him both.

For his reply, Jono just shrugged his shoulders, looking down at the paint can in his hand. There was no telling how long this would last, and now that he'd started the damn mural, he was kind of committed to finishing it so it wouldn't just sit there half-done forever.

Barring being able to say any of that, he just raised his other hand and gave it a little 'so-so' sort of motion. He really wasn't that good. Not usually.

[nobloodymessiah.livejournal.com]

Eleanor mistook the so-so gesture, shaking her head. "No, it's quite good," she said. "Very talented. I'm not just saying that to be nice, because you're my boss. I actually mean it."

Oh, hey, look, awkward phrasing had shown up again! Her new best friend.

[furnaceface]

Jono would have sighed, if only he was able. As it stood, the best he could manage was rubbing the back of his neck, shaking his head and then trying to figure out just how to mime out, 'this isn't something I can usually do.'

So far, he was drawing a complete blank.

He stood there awkwardly for a moment before waving apologetically at his face, and then shrugging. No talking was going to be happening today. Sorry, Eleanor.

[nobloodymessiah.livejournal.com]

It took her a moment before she caught on. "You can't talk?" she said. Piecing it together ...

"Of course," she said. "The telepathy, it's one of your powers, and with it gone, you've no way to communicate, what with your face being missing."

She facepalmed almost immediately. "Pretend I said that tactfully."

[furnaceface]

Jono gave a dismissive wave of his hand. She wasn't screaming or really saying anything deliberately hurtful, so he'd cope. At least she wasn't dancing around the topic. That would have driven him nuts. Anyway, she was right. No face, no telepathy, no voice.

He turned over the spray can in his hand, gave it a weird sort of look, and then shrugged as if to say, 'No, really, I have no idea what's up with this.'

[nobloodymessiah.livejournal.com]

"Do you ..." Eleanor bit her lip. This was a rather large admission, here, and a bit frightening, what she was offering. But he was stuck incommunicado, and she couldn't even ask if he was otherwise hurt.

"Do you ... need it back?" she asked, carefully. "I have ways."

It would be limited, only between the two of them, but then he could at least express himself. And she could reverse it later, presumably, by withdrawing the ADAM.

[furnaceface]

Need? Ways? Jonothon gave a bit of a slow shake of his head, because this wasn't really an emergency situation or anything. But he followed it up with a headtilt, and a raised eyebrow, managing to look fairly quizzical, even with only half his face.

Ways? What ways?