A Nice Chianti

[Star]

Who said vermillion and royal blue didn't work together?

The large shoebox building is relieved with garish colors like a said shoebox's logo. It's size is only accentuated by the expanse of empty parking lot, but that's where the Angel's going. A small multi-plex in the shadow of the Zigguarat, a pop-fly from Raley Field and close enough to hear the river.

And for anyone that's looking, it's blossoming a river of fire that could warm half the city and smells like like an ace and a king.

Jack's deposited them in 'the foyer'. It's a large area next to the glass-y entrance and behind a theater auditorium. Industrial carpet and comfortable vinyl seating provides a perfect reception area while he disappears...

...and reappears with a blue guitar, jeans, and bare feet.

"Now lil' lady, how's about yew and Ah," strummmmmm, "Make be-yoot'ful music together?"

The first three notes of Dueling Banjos twang out.

"Anyway? This is our place, so, like, you can say anything."

Especially if it's more Lambs.

[Tuesday]

Hazel eyes catch street signs and a bark of a laugh escapes her, cutting off when she registers the theater in front of her.

When Jack disappears, leaving her in 'the foyer'. Tuesday will admit to any who ask, that after setting baby's case against one of the vinyl seats that she gaped. Good and proper, because who the fuck lived in a theater?

Jack. Apparently.

While she's distracted with ogling the space around her, Jack returns. Changed from the hoodie and sweats, his pale-ass knobby knees hidden behind blue jeans.

Jack had already awkwardly set his not-in-you-lines, but that could have passed for a pickup line. Choosing to ignore it, and think of it as a call back to their whatever the hell it was. Tuesday went about retrieving her baby from it's battered case. "Just because he's has work done doesn't mean I don't think you're beautiful, girl." she whispers to her battered guitar after taking in the sight of Jack's Blue.

As the first notes fill the room, Tuesday, settles into a chair and sets her baby on her lap, and joins in.

"Anything." she deadpans, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

A few moments of calloused fingers absently making music, Tuesday sighs, "I got nothin'. Drawin' a total blank." she admits, her expression defeated. Shit that would get laugh, Tuesday had ideas for days....normal conversations...those took more work.

...

"I'm Tuesday, bee tee dubbs."

[Star]

"Mom said I could have a perfectly wonderful conversation with the sky, I loved the sound of my own voice so much."

That's a total lie. Most of what Jack's mother had said to him revolved around fetching her libations, when she'd been around.

"Tuesday? That's interesting. I love s'names. Like, did you Awaken on a Tuesday? Or you're no Girl Friday. You're riffing on 'Til Tuesday because you want your voice to carry and be heard. You love that knick knack chain Tuesday Morning. Or you've got a warrior heart like one of the day's deities. You're real name's Ruby and so it's a play on Ruby Tuesday." The Angel smiles as each explanation rolls out with a gentle cadence that fills Tuesday's blank. "I'm The Last Starfighter, but, like, everyone just calls me Star."

Star's a fair guitarist. There's a deftness to his fingers that makes up for the small tells that he's only a casual player. Three cords and the truth, baby.

" Avis ?! Fisher ! Varyx !"

A questioning yell is thrown out towards the depths of the theater before the Angel begins pacing and playing. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that Angels in motion tend to stay in motion. Aether's First Law.

"Anything? Okay. Like, two years ago? That's how long it's been, I guess. Is when Avis, Asp, Zoey, and I found this place. Started a cabal, Veiled Threats, kind of a half joke, half claim on this Flow. Asp and Zoey left, so Avis and I have kept it going. Right now it's Arthur, Fisher, July, Varyx, and Avis'n me."

Dueling Banjos slipped into a few questioning notes of U2's 'Angel of Harlem', seeing if Tuesday knew it.

"Should I keep going? Oh. Right. I'm a Guardian. This is, like, totally your Is-She-A-Seer interview. Don't mess up! So how do you know Wayland?"

Because Sentinel vouched backwards.

[Fisher]

Fisher wondered into the room holding a Styrofoam to go box and a fork. She was shoveling a forkful of potatoes into her mouth as she looked up inquisitively while chewing. She came to a stop and kind of resembled a deer caught grazing in a field, complete with tilted head and frozen posture, only the chewing remained.

"Oh, company," she said once her mouth was empty. "Hi."

She had noticed the music and wondered what was going on, so she made her way over. Then along the way she heard her name called out and figured Star was up to something again and it turns out she was right. Given the fact that they had company she was glad that she had spent the morning at the kitchen, because she was even fully dressed, apart from her bare feet.

What a surprise...Star up to something again, she thought with amusement.

"Sup?" she said wandering over to sit at a table and then continued to eat her meatloaf and mashed potatoes.

"Jam session? Well I played a mean recorder when I was five, but I'm a little out of practice," she said amusement blossoming on her face. Music was not her strong suit. However, given her culture and how important it was to many of the mages in the city and her own cabal she might have to learn a little.

[Varyx]

Varyx was already awake when Star came looking for her attention this time. It helped that it wasn't sunrise. But either way, it meant she was properly ready for the day - showered, made up and clothed - when she stepped out of her room, her lips quirking up in amusement at the sight of Star and Tuesday jamming together.

She walked up behind Fisher, chuckling and placing a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Oh, don't feel bad. I can't play anything to save my life, either. And this way I won't have to be the odd one out." She looked over at Star and took a seat. "I hope you weren't expecting me to join your impromptu jam session. I'd be happy to listen but I'm afraid I'm embarrassingly unmusical."

At a guess, there was a 50/50 chance he was going to follow that up with a joke about her dancing instead.

"Welcome to the theater, Tuesday," she greeted finally, propping her feet up on the chair across from her.

[Tuesday]

She followed a Guardian home.

...

Awesome.

Though there was a small part of Tuesday's brain that could just picture Jack Star going 'Ma a unicorn followed me home! Can I keep her?'

It's the thought that let Tuesday chuckle, and allow her stalled brain to continue on.

"Nothin' so grandiose." she says about her name, and his. "My mentor was quite literally a walking ego. Shadow name to match. She kept badgering me to pick something and since I'm shit at naming things, and it was a Tuesday when I had enough of her whining I figured it would work." she says with a careless shrug, besides doing so just felt right, so she kept it. "Dea was pissed she's the one who said it was 'cause of Tyr. Or Mars. Or whatever. The gods the the day was named after, just to save face. she hated that I wasn't as...uh" bitchy. pigheaded. haunty. arrogant. prideful. "Ambitious as she was."

A brow raises at the names yelled and Tuesday smirked because she'd met all of them. Smirk turned into a nod as history was told, and songs changed. Listening to the first few bars gave Tuesdays an idea of what Star was playing and after a bit more of making sure she'd catch the notes she joined in.

"Oh darn! Is it that sort of interview? I should have Not-a-Seer-Blazer." is the first thing in her mind and out of her mouth. Strumming along, Tuesday answers with the truth, "Vanessa-er-Varyx and me met for food and she dragged me to the church-Circle? Whatever. That's where that rando party was. Plus he and the rest of us newbs sat around after everyone left and started hashing out a maybe perma-but-probably-temp-cabal."

"Nothing much. Apparently ditched Wayland and are not doing my Not-a-Seer-Interview. So sup Fisher?" Tuesday says when she notices the shaman. "Don't knock the recorder...my hot cross buns is legendary." the only song she could remember from grade school, plus she said hot cross buns. Hazel eye flicks up to Star...because hilarity.

Varyx's entrance is met with a blurted out, "You could be a drummer!" a grin, everyone should have some music in their life. "A bit a rhythm, feeling that beat under your skin until it begs to be releaced...."

"It certainly is...somthin'" Tuesday says looking around the space once more. Thinking it housed a cabal of five made the whole it's-a-fucking-theater-thing easier to deal with.

I'm going to try to keep on top of this, but my mother-in-law is coming sometime tonight!

[Star]

"It was a cold and wet December day when we touched the ground at JFK,
Snow was melting on the ground; on BLS I heard the sound
...Of an angel..."

Soft singing started when Tuesday picked up what he was putting down. Jack doesn't have a unicorn voice. Jack's voice is much like the rest of Jack: pretty mediocre, but not terrible.

"Hey guys!"

That neither are guys? Probably explains how this guy could cabal up with three women his first week in the city. Also, thank goodness. Because until 'The Guys' showed up, ditching the Sentinel to drag New Girl back to an abandoned theater... just had a funny ring to it.

"Look what I found! I don't think she eats much, and I'm pretty sure she's house-trained. Can we keep her?"* Lady Day got Diamond Eyes. "Well. You know. If she passes the interview. And, like, if you guys tell her this isn't a terrible place to hang out. Geez. Fisher. Like, get a plate. Gross. Can't you taste the styrofoam?"

Interesting stuff, yo. The mentor. Seems an unlikely pairing, right? Unless, you know. Seer.

"But, yeah. That's Debutante Smurf and Starving Smurf. I'm Awesome Smurf. Hoodie Smurf, Politico Smurf, and Cowboy Smurf are, like, I guess. Not here. Also, yes. Varyx. You are in the band. It's all good. You're going to lip-sync while Tuesday sings."

Like a star exploding in the night, falling to the city in broad daylight.

*

Holy crap I swear I'd been planning to write that for days.

[Fisher]

"Oh good," she said to Varyx with a smile. "I was beginning to feel the odd one out there."

"Hey I'm named after a small mammal so I don't think being named after a day of the week is any worse than that. At least people know what Tuesday is. No one in the states has a flippin' clue what a fisher is for the most part. But if I went with a name like weasel or wolverine I think that wouldn't work out so well for me." She said conversationally and then paused before continuing thoughtfully. "I guess I'm hairy in some places, but not enough all over to really pull wolverine off, and I'd need to be more underhanded for weasel."

Fisher rolled her eyes playfully at Star's comment and made an exaggerated sigh.

"Ok dad," she said with a smile to let him know she wasn't serious. She then got up and went to the kitchen to fetch a plate. "I can't really taste it. When you've lived on worms, grubs, and other creepy crawlies Styrofoam isn't bad, just don't microwave it and you're good."

Fisher dumped her food onto a plate and closed up the contain and shot a basket with the trash only to have it miss completely and bounce along the ground.

"Ah, nuts," she said as she chased the errant container and then dropped it in the trash.

"If we're like reverse smurfs, you know the whole male female thing, does that make either you or Arthur smurfette, or do all us ladies have to fight over that one?" Fisher asked as she collected her plate and carried it back to the table.

[Tuesday]

"Yeah...sorry about that Fisher. For you know, being one of those dumb Americans that didn't know what tiny mammal you named yourself after." Since their first meeting had the Enchantress thinking Fisher-woman, or Kingfisher instead of a mustelid.

Lyrics sung, not the worst thing the Enchantress had ever heard, but still noting that would compare to the voice she heard every morning in the shower, or walking down the street, or whenever she was bored out of her mind....or right now...because this unicorn couldn't help but join in.

"New York, like a Christmas tree.
Tonight this city belongs to me
...Angel..."

What next comes out of Stars mouth had Tuesday snickering, then, chuckling. Which didn't abate when Fisher 'yes dad'd' Star and went off to dump her food on a plate. "Gonna pass the interview part of this game show." Quipped Tuesday when she managed to control her laughter, "Since you know. Not a Seer."

"You really can't taste it. But that maybe because I've resorted to eating gross things when I've had to." Tuesday muses aloud.

"So what I'd be Guitar Smurf? Or Melody Smurf!" a bark of a laugh, then, "Since I'm totally not Gargamel." said in the same tone she used for 'Not a Seer'.

[Star]

Gross.

It's actually mind-boggling. Legit. Hamster paused on the wheel mind-boggling. Because how could anyone who ate as much as Fisher did have taste buds that insensitive? Or. Wait. Maybe that's why she could.

"I bet you drink out of plastic cups, too."

The humanity. It's pretty clear by the blanch what Angels think of plastic cups. 'Dad' grins. Whatevs. Hearthmaster gonna Hearth, yo. Hearthmaste's also staring to make sure the missed trash gets cleaned up.

"Birdland on Fifty-Three, street sounds like a symphony
We got John Coltrane and a love supreme, Miles, and she's got to be
...an Angel..."

He hits the words hard, getting into it, dropping fricatives and spirants like Vickie Sue Robinson Turning the Beat Around.

"Oh, we vote on it. You know. Drop folded papers into a glass." Glass. "It's like migrant labor. You know, where everyone gets a song." Some people have lived on insects, others have picked tomatoes. What song? Don't. Ask. "I was thinking Windy Smurf? Like, you know, goes where the breeze takes you and vocalist? But then I was all, wait, what if someone thinks that's a commentary on your flatulence? So now I'm leaning towards Buskin' Smurf."

"But anyway? I'm serious, if, you know. You want to roll the dice with us instead of your, uh, what was it, perma-but-probably-temp-cabal." Long fingers lazily strummed the guitar as greenish eyes moved between Varyx and Fisher with a questioning look. "But Fisher's the one to ask. Probably. We abducted, whoops, I totally meant recruited, her last. Obviously, like, we've got space. And, like, not sure if you can see it, or feel it, but there's a solid flow."

Thin shoulders shrugged. Maybe Awesome Smurf is Impulsive Recruiter Smurf.