fandomtownies | The Boards, Thursday Evening

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The Boards, Thursday Evening

Jono had had big plans for tonight at the Boards, but the events of the last few weeks had thrown something of a wrench in the gears when it came to organizing the showcase he'd wanted to hold.

... Or even finding people to perform in it. Which meant that he was going to have to adjust his plans somewhat.

A lot.

There was a new sign up where the old one had been.

Due to Unforeseen Circumstances, The Fandom Showcase Has Been Cancelled.
Come in for an Open Mic Instead!
There's Beer.

When all else failed, bribe people to participate. And if anybody needed Jono, he'd be on the stage playing his guitar for the duration of the evening or until somebody else showed up who wanted to perform. Whichever came first.

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"Should I have brought pretzels?" Hannibal asked with a grin.

He offered Eliot the platter of sandwiches. "I understand you've had an eventful but positive week."

Eliot picked out a sandwich with a nod of thanks. "Week nothin'. It was all over by Sunday morning."

Not all over, as he'd pointed out to Jono only moments ago. There was still plenty of recovery coming for both his house guests. But the dangerous action part was hopefully now behind them.

Hannibal nodded. "We could tell when Nanika went back to sleep. I'm pleased to hear it worked out for the best. How is everybody doing?"

"Best as can be expected," Eliot said. "They're both still pretty firm in 'pretend it's all alright' mode, though I know Raven at least ain't slept a whole night since she got back."

He knew this in part because neither had he.

"I realize you're skeptical of therapy," or of him in general, but Hannibal was being polite, "but please know I am there for any of you who may need it. Either myself, or I can provide referrals."

Eliot frowned. "When did I ever say I was skeptical 'bout therapy?"

He'd seen far too much in his time not to have leaned on a professional or two over the years. He just didn't make a habit of it. Too much of what he'd done was classified, or fell outside of the scope of doctor-patient privilege, for him to be completely honest with -- pretty much anyone.

"I'll mention the option to the girls. Thanks."

"Never outright, but you've seemed rather closed to the idea previously," Hannibal pointed out. "In any event, thank you."

Hannibal was an awesome person to be completely honest with.

He waved at the stage. "Will you get up and play for us?"

"Nah, that's just 'cause you ain't my type." A beat. "Therapy-wise."

Or otherwise, really. Hannibal was way too uptight.

"Your husband was tryin' to talk me into it," he said with a shrug. "Tried to get me to defend the Man in Black's honor an' everything. I told him I'd think about it. You?"

Hannibal definitely owned musical instruments -- Jono was not the harpsichord type -- but Eliot wasn't actually sure whether he played them or not.

Hannibal was amused.

"I helped him move the piano onto the stage, but I'll wait a bit to see if others would rather get up there first. And I wasn't aware Mr. Cash's honor needed defending, but I would love to hear you do it."

"He was threatenin' to do 'God's Gonna Cut You Down' without any lyrics." Threatening, idly pondering out loud to get Eliot to go sing instead. . . . "Not that Cash's work can't stand for itself."

"It's quite distinctive and powerful," Hannibal agreed. "Although much of that does lie in the lyrics."

"And the delivery," Eliot said. "His stuff has that stark, matter-of-fact quality to it. 'Swhy he could take a song by Nine Inch Nails and make it totally his own."

He was maybe just a little bit of a fanboy, yes.

"And improve it, to my ears anyway." Jono had played both versions for him. Jono had Opinions.

"Damn right he did. Cash's 'Hurt' is a masterpiece." One Eliot maybe identified with a touch to well in his worse moments. But then, a lot of Cash was like that for him. "Hell, Reznor's even said so himself."

"So I've heard." There had been so much commentary he'd gotten with the songs, Eliot, you didn't even know.

Although you did know Jono, so maybe you suspected.

"Jono manage to shut up long enough for you to actually hear the song, or was it a runnin' commentary kind of deal?"

Yes, Eliot had met him.

Hannibal chuckled. "I heard them both. But yes, there was quite a bit of commentary before, between, and after."

"So. You form any opinions on 'em, then?"

"I prefer Cash's cover," Hannibal said. "His experience lends a depth to it that the original was lacking, and his simpler instrumentation adds to the starkness of the lyrics."

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The Boards, Thursday Evening

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