Streets of Fandom, Thursday

[14andseven]

Roland Chapman, founder and sole member of the Toronto Modern-Classical Troubadors Movement, as out on the streets as usual with his mandolin (which he lovingly named "Constance"), combining lyric poetry of the High Middle Ages with dramatic classical Spanish guitar stylings.

Occitan-Spanish fusion was absolutely the future of neo-indie-folk rock. You just haven't heard of it, yet.

[ooc: because sometimes your BDE participation ends up being a running joke. Open, with bouts of slowplay]

Comments

[6buckstohisname.livejournal.com]

"...just when I think this place can't get any weirder." DEAN. DEAN. YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER.

[14andseven]

Ohhhh. You were so getting mocked in Roland's next set of lyrical poetry.

. . . In Occitan.

Burrrrrrrn.

[6buckstohisname.livejournal.com]

Yeah, well. Dean was gonna be that guy.

"Play Free Bird!"

[14andseven]

"¿Qué?" said Roland. Oh, he spoke English. He was just pretentious.

Not about not knowing Freebird, though. His alternate universe didn't have Freebird.

[6buckstohisname.livejournal.com]

"Free Bird." Deal with this, Roland. "What kind of street performer are you?"

[14andseven]

"The kind who doesn't perform extemporaneous pieces based on random arrangements of words."

So there, Dean.

[6buckstohisname.livejournal.com]

"Well, you're not getting my spare change, buddy."

[14andseven]

"Fascist."

Well that was inappropriate.

[6buckstohisname.livejournal.com]

"Hippie." They were evenly matched.

[14andseven]

"Do I look like I'm wearing Birkenstocks?"

Those were some fine Italian leather shoes on those feet.

. . . It was possible that this iteration of Roland spent all of his money on weird hipster fashions. It was how he perfected the gaunt traveler look.

[6buckstohisname.livejournal.com]

"Now that's just stereotypical," Dean replied, giving him a deeply disappointed look.

[14andseven]

Roland played his mandolin at Dean. Aggressively.

Take that, fascist.

[6buckstohisname.livejournal.com]

Deal with his being a douche bag, Roland!

Dean rolled his eyes, heading off again. Because he was the mature one here. So mature that he was giving Roland the finger.

[14andseven]

Roland scowled and plucked the lowest note his dear Constance could make, putting a nice oomph of bardic magic behind it.

'Cause, you know, using your magic powers to basically punch a guy in the back with sound waves was totally not a dick move.

[6buckstohisname.livejournal.com]

Dean started forward, whipping around quickly to see what the fuck had just happened. And then glared at Roland.

"The hell, man?!"

[14andseven]

"Feel the angry fist of the fine arts!"

[6buckstohisname.livejournal.com]

"You'll feel my fist on your face if you ever try that shit again!"

Dean hadn't been threatening people in too long. He was getting rusty.

[14andseven]

It took a real bard to turn strumming a mandolin into a rude gesture.

[6buckstohisname.livejournal.com]

"And your little guitar thing too!"

Mandolin, Dean. It was a mandolin.

[14andseven]

"It's a mandolin!" Roland shouted. "And her name is Constance!"

Oh honey. No.

[6buckstohisname.livejournal.com]

"Oh, well that's just wonderful. Are you two planning a spring wedding?" asked the guy who called his car 'Baby'.

[14andseven]

"Marriage is a tool of oppression."

Right. And he wasn't a hippie.

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

Kenzi was pretty upset after talking to Jonothon. She'd thought she was upset before, but now she had all new reasons for it.

"Hey, Roland."

Mood: freaked out with a side of wildly upset.

[14andseven]

Roland knew exactly what that sort of long face needed!

. . . Admittedly, not everyone would immediately think of a melodramatic pasodoble as "cheering up" music. But that was just what made Roland special.

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

"Heh." Kenzi flopped down next to him. "That's new. Kinda like it, though. Goes with the island and the castle and all."

[14andseven]

"Actually," Roland said, eeeeeeeeever so slightly snootily. "I think you'll find it's rather old."

It was traditional, after all.

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

Kenzi eye-rolled magnificently at that, stretching out her legs, and then noticing his shoes. You could always count on that. "Nice treads. Those new too?" She squinted up at the sun and muttered, "I should go shoplifting. That'll help."

[14andseven]

"There's an idea," Roland said. "Since the fascists around here don't want to donate any money to the arts."

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

"How do you get by when nobody gives you cash?" Kenzi asked, then added, "I will definitely donate to the Itinerant Musician Fund after I'm done relieving capitalists of their wealth."

[14andseven]

"The benevolence of others," Roland said.

Translation: he couch surfed.

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

"Should've brought you a benevolent coffee." Kenzi studied the mandolin, and asked, "Can you play Santana on that?"

[14andseven]

". . . Who?"

Roland's particular current AU was somewhat bereft, musically. Hence the need for things like Occitan-Spanish fusion.

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

Kenzi boggled. "Don't be messing with me, bro, I'm already having a weird week. The Santana? Carlos? Only guy who can get away with playing with well, anyone?" Since yeah, Roland was from the 80's, he'd have no idea who Rob Thomas was.

[14andseven]

"Carlos?" Roland said. "Is that the guy that Cecil kid is always talking about?"

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

Kenzi whimpered and put her head in her hands.

World, why were you being so bizarre? So much more bizarre than usual?

"...sure. Why not."

[14andseven]

The pasodoble apparently hadn't done the job. Roland launched instead into an obscure poem about courtly love.

Set to a tango.