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Groovy Tunes, Sunday Evening

No, it wasn't Jono's usual day to open up the Groovy Tunes, which was why he hadn't technically opened it. But his portal here from Kaeleer for what would have been yesterday's shift had come across some technical difficulties, and he'd wound up stranded in the middle of nowhere - quite literally; his portal had dropped him off in a vacant void for almost a full day - until another portal had arrived to bring him here.

So, he was doing inventory. He was exhausted, and he had Joni weaving around between his ankles, but at least he was finally in a place that wasn't just a full expanse of nothingness. He was listening to the first CD he'd pulled from a new shipment, which mostly just meant that he was listening to Silverchair instead of Pearl Jam this week. The open sign wasn't on, but the lights were, and the door wasn't locked.

Make of that whatever you wanted.

[Expecting one, but can be open! Thread with Hannibal last, chronologically.]

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Hannibal had just been on a run(/climb) of the island and seen the well-lit shop, so after a shower and change, he headed back out to say hello.

He pushed the door open and nodded at Jono. "You're here late this evening."

//Just got in,// Jono replied, turning to nod at Hannibal as Joni made her way over to sniff at his toes. //Portalocity was... Portalocity, again. I would've been here yesterday, but apparently that wasn't in the cards.//

"Mm. An unfortunate stopover?" Hannibal reached down and picked Joni up carefully, rubbing her ears as he joined Jono by the counter.

//The stopover itself was null and bloody void. Literally. I spent a day bored out of my bloody skull with nothing as far as the eye could see and a very sad cat in my pocket.//

Which was maybe one of the reasons Joni was being so friendly to everyone, ever, right now.

That, and the fact that she was generally just... friendly to everyone, ever, anyway.

Hannibal winced. "That sounds unpleasant. I trust this little lady has been fed since?" It was so hard to tell with cats; they always seemed to act as though they hadn't been.

//She ate bloody near half her weight in cold cuts,// Jono replied, shrugging his shoulders a little. //I figured after a day of living on whatever treats I had brought with me, I could spoil her a little, and picked some up on my way in.//

It was a good thing she'd eaten them all, since Jono certainly wasn't going to.

"If you wanted to spoil her, you could have brought her to me." Hannibal gave her one last scritch before setting her down. "I could have given you both something better than that." Honestly, Jono, cold cuts?

//Could've,// Jono allowed, shrugging his shoulders a little. //I'd been feeling a bit on the touchy side, as well, though. After a day of nothingness, I would've been rotten company. Now I've got my music, I've spent some time in my element, I'm slightly less insufferable.//

At least he could admit it.

"Slightly less than yesterday, or slightly less than usual?" Hannibal teased. "What are we listening to, by the way?"

//Ha, funny,// Jono replied, rolling his eyes, though he seemed at least faintly amused. //And the band of the day is Silverchair. Another one of those alternative groups that saw most of their success in the nineties. This one is...// He paused for a moment, listening, before reporting, //Pure Massacre.//

Because of course it was.

Hannibal listened for a moment, then shrugged. He could take or leave this one. "Come visit next time you're in town; I'll drink beer and we can exchange music again."

//Sounds like a good time,// Jono decided with a nod. //I'll bring something that I didn't pick at random from th'top of a box, maybe I'll actually manage to wow you with something, one of these days.//

Choosing music for a fan of classical with discerning tastes: still one of the biggest challenges of Jono's life.

That was only because he hadn't tried art rock yet.

"One day," Hannibal agreed, smiling. "And I'll return the favor."

//I look forward to it,// Jono replied, already taking a glance around the shop to see if any inspiration was about to hit when, suddenly and quite without warning, the shop was much larger than Jonothon remembered it. And he was hitting his nose against the floor, half-buried in a heap of heavy leather.

... Oh. Oh, no. He knew what this was already.

For lack of the ability to deliver an appropriately colourful streak of curse words, he hissed.

Hannibal blinked and paused as Jono's clothes collapsed in on themselves, then started curiously forward. The hiss simultaneously gave him pause and reminded him of the stories Karla had told.

Which, among other things, involved being bitten by a rather poisonous snake.

Hannibal scooped Joni up and set her on the counter, then used a leg of the stool to twitch open the folds of the crumpled coat. "Jono?"

At least he was a tiny rather venomous snake?

A tiny, rather venomous snake who was making a bid for the light the instant the weight of the leather stopped pressing him down. Jonothon was going to have to re-think the all-leather wardrobe one of these days, if the island was going to continue to turn him into something so small and lacking in thumbs.

... Or limbs of any persuasion, really.

He wriggled out into the open, and took a moment to get his bearings again. The whole place looked very different than he was used to from down here, and while he didn't think Hannibal was going to try to stomp on him or something, he was feeling more than a little bit vulnerable, down here.

He coiled himself up a little, contemplating just making a break for under the nearest shelving unit. Worth it?

Hannibal eyed him, still a bit wary, but also curious. "If you can understand me, please nod." Even a snake should be able to bob his head. "I should like to know whether there's a point in reasoning with you."

Jono stared up at him for a moment, pulling himself up so that his face was off the floor and considering the words that were being spoken to him. There was a bit of a trick to hearing, when you were a snake. He had no eardrums, after all, so his entire body had to pick up and interpret the vibrations in the room in their stead.

Probably another reason why Karla's squealing had earned her a bite, that last time.

But once he got back into the swing of it, it was simple enough, and he did give a little bob of his head in understanding.

Well, at least Jono had some memories of that sort of thing to help with.

"Good. That will make things much easier." Hannibal crouched down closer to Jono's level. "I doubt you'd enjoy staying here, if this lasts as long as last time. So, if you can promise not to bite me, I'll take you to my house and make certain you're warm and well-fed." He gave him a stern look. "Break that promise, and I'll have to call Karla to deal with the poison, and she can keep you after that," he warned.

In Glacia. With sweaters, Jono.

It really was unfortunately difficult to look properly horrified as a snake, Jono found. His eyes didn't move quite the right way, for one, and sitting there with his mouth open would have just made him look threatening. So, he went with the next best option, which involved lowering his head again and sort of tying himself into a knot. Look, he wasn't even in a position that most people would associate with 'about to bite.' He was being good and passive, here.

Jono was willing to go through a lot of humiliation in order to avoid the tiny snake sweaters again, okay?

Hannibal snorted. "I'll take that as agreement." He stood and gathered Jono's clothing, leaving his boots for him to stay in for the moment. "Let me fold these and turn everything off." He paused, folding Jono's trousers onto the counter and grimacing at the kitten there. "And gather things for Joni. Then we can go."

This was going to be an interesting time, wasn't it?

Drac had had a poor sleep and was trying to clear his head with a brisk walk around the island. He stared a moment at the lights of the Groovy Tunes, trying to decide if he should intrude or no. The OPEN sign wasn't visible, after all...

Edited 2014-10-20 00:05 (UTC)

Of course, Jono was working on a display by the window at right around that moment, so when he spotted Dracula, he offered a friendly nod and waved for him to come in. Because it had been entirely too long, what with all of the time Jonothon spent in Glacia, these days.

//Evening, mate. S'been a while.//

Telepathy was awesome for a lot of things, like not having to yell to be heard on the opposite side of a window.

Drac had no telepathy and he was a gentleman, so he was obliged to go in, wasn't he? Yes.

He smiled back and entered. "Good evening, Jonothon. Have you decided to change your sleep schedule?" Drac teased as he approached his friend. "You'll find it a lonely one on this island, I'm afraid."

//Changing my sleep schedule implies that I was ever actually any good at sleeping in the first place,// Jono replied, setting his handful of CDs to the side and stuffing his hands into his pockets. //My nights tend to err on the 'late' side even when I am up all day.//

Insomnia's best friend was Jono. He wasn't even terribly upset about that fact. His options were being awake and exhausted, or sleeping through nightmares that would drive plenty of people mad.

//How're you tonight, mate? Enjoying th'fresh air?//

"Enjoying the air, yes. The crisp bite of autumn with the chill of winter following." If Drac looked a bit nostalgic, please forgive him; it was that time of year.

He considered a moment, but he didn't have many friends on the island, so he then admitted: "I'm a bit troubled to be honest."

//Troubled?// Jono's brow furrowed faintly, and he considered that nostalgic look for a moment before nodding and gesturing to a pair of chairs near the counter at the back of the room. //C'mon in, then, we can sit and talk, if you like. What's eating at you, mate?//

Drac made his usual flair at sitting, but instead of being ramrod straight, he bent forward, elbows on his knees.

"My daughter celebrated her 117th birthday a few weeks ago."

Edited 2014-10-20 00:53 (UTC)

Jono took a moment to consider that posture, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, nodding faintly.

//You'll have to forgive me for asking stupid questions,// he ventured, //but is that some sort of landmark birthday? Humans don't generally live quite so long, I wouldn't want to miss any context here.//

Drac blinked up, confused, then chuckled. "Forgive me. Mavis would be considered 17 human years, development-wise. So next year she would be approximately 18. Almost an adult."

He frowned. "And I promised her she could go into the human world on her own when she turned 118."

//Ah...// Jono gave a little nod. He had no children of his own and sincerely doubted he ever would have, but he still knew a thing or two about where Dracula's concern was coming from. //So you're worried. Your little girl's growing up, and the world out there is... well...//

There were a lot of things he could fill that silence with. Cruel. Dangerous. Compelling.

He settled for, //Frightening.//

"Deadly." Drac corrected him, crossing his hands and looking away. "Forgetting the fact that we cannot be out in the sun, she's a vampire. They will kill her like they did her mother."

//They might,// Jono allowed, wincing a little. //Humanity is capable of no small amount of cruelty. I've seen plenty of it, too. But... Mavis is a smart girl, mate. You raised her well. Even if they do try, I think they'd have their work cut out for them with her. She's a...// Spitfire was probably not a good choice of words, when talking about a vampire girl whose mother had been burned to death. //... a bit of a force of nature, all on her own.//

"Thank you." Drac took a moment to beam proudly at that, then his face turned a little cruel. "She's my baby girl; I need to find a way to keep her safe. To keep her at the Hotel."

Could you hear the 'forever', there Jono?

One of Jono's eyelids twitched faintly as he mentally filled in that blank. Hooboy.

//I know it's tempting, mate, but a promise is a promise,// he said, shaking his head a little. //You can hardly back out on that now; she'll just resent you for it and find her own way out. Children her age need room to grow, to stretch, to explore. She already got a bit of a taste of the world outside the hotel when she came here, after all. She knows what she's missing out on.//

That made the distinguished count deflate and sag uncharastically in the chair. "That's what I'm worried about. Not only that, but she's been running the hotel since she left here, so she's growing up even faster."

Oh, Count. Jono almost wanted to offer you a hug and a cookie, but (perhaps wisely) decided against either.

//And you can't protect her all hours of the day and night, once she's grown,// Jono agreed, nodding a little. //A year... that's practically nothing. But, you know... even if she's grown, she'll always be your daughter. If you don't try to tie her down, she'll come back to you on her own. You're family. That's what that means, isn't it?//

He was pretty sure that was what family meant, at least. Jonothon's own hadn't really been the sort of family one went back to.

"That's not it," he sighed. "I don't want her harmed. Or even afraid. But I can't protect her if she's not with me."

...

"Which is the other thing I have been thinking of: why I am still here. It's not as though I am making a success of your Theatre." He gave Jono a somber shake of his head as an apology for that.

Jono gave his shoulders a little shrug in answer to the shake of Drac's head.

//It isn't as though I've been putting in the time it takes to help make it successful,// he pointed out. //This year rolled around, and I hit the door running. But... you know I would understand, if you felt the need to go be with her, mate. She's your daughter, I get that. And it's probably about time I pull myself up by the bootstraps and get over myself when it comes to th'Boards anyway.//

"I'm not going to just leave! That would be unprofessional and perfectly cowardly!"

Besides, Mavis would totally suspect him.

"And your aversion is perfectly understandable; don't worry about that!" Drac was quick to assure his friend. "Though if you wanted to return, your presence would likely encourage more of the townsfolk to try out. It's rather hard to put on a quality show when only the zombies apply for parts."

Jono blinked at that, and then gave a little, slow nod of his head.

//And as much as the zombies are quite at home on the stage...// The stage was maybe not quite ready for their brilliance. Or. Something. //Perhaps we can do something simple, then? To help ease me back into it, and all. Besides, if it's nothing too time consuming, you might at least be able to find more time in edgewise to check up on her between rehearsals and the like?//

Drac smiled inquisitively. "A simple play. So... probably not Antigone, then?"

//Might not be a bad idea to steer away from th'Sophocles around here,// Jono mused, shrugging his shoulders. //I was thinking something more like the winter showcases I used to do. Get people to come up with their own bloody skits, that sort of thing.//

A pause.

//They're usually at least slightly less disastrous than some of our scripted performances have been. Fewer waffles.//

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Groovy Tunes, Sunday Evening

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