2015-07-20 The Old Song And Dance
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: Sexy Dancing. Kind Of.
2015-07-20 format
Players: Peter Quill, Blaise
GMed by Blaise
Title: The Old Song And Dance

Bayville Mall offers a wide variety of shopping opportunities. Everything from pet stores to flower shops can be found within these walls. But one particular store took the interest of Blaise Cameron - a medium-sized music store, proudly offering instruments, records, CDs, and song books. Near the front of the store rests a polished black baby grand piano, on sale for a small fortune.

It started as smalltalk with the counter jockey, which turned into a dare. Now the piano bench is occupied by Blaise. A few keys are poked in halting manner, testing the tuning. And then he begins a legitimate tune.

Notes roll with elegant grace as the song kicks off, instantly-recognizable to some simply for the introduction. The clerk is one such person. "Yeah? Really?," he asks.

Blaise replies in lyric form, his voice a smooth, soft tenor:

"Don't go changin'… to try and please me."
"You never let me down before."
"Don't imagine… you're too familiar."
"And I don't see you~ anymore…"

"How much? For batteries?!"

A store or two over, where things are apparently too expensive, a completely out of place space dressed thief is pretending to haggle with the clerk of this drug store establishment. He probably looks like another one of those random cosplayers at this point but he's either way too into character or he just can't believe that batteries costs more than a dollar.

"You're a bigger crook than I am. No sale, man."

Peter Quill tosses the pack of batteries back onto the counter and turns to make his stride right out of the store and into the mall proper. As he makes his grand exit, he pauses long enough to reach for the walkman that's on his belt and pop the back of it open. Two palmed batteries are shoved into the classic device and his ears pick up on some very familiar piano chords. His head tilts to the side and he looks off in the direction of the music store and heads that way. There's a small smile on his face as he approaches. Good song, after all.

Blaise would be inclined to agree. The flowing melody is simple, but beautiful, and depending on who you ask, even timeless. The teen's blue gaze alternates between glimpsing the heavily-bemused store clerk and the keys of the baby grand as he continues.

"I~ would not leave you… in times'a trouble."
"We never could have come this far."
"I took the good times… I'll take the bad times!"
"I'll take you just the way~ you are~…"

As the note holds, the melody on the piano begins to repeat a form of the introduction. By now, a few of the other people in the store - casual browsers, the lot of them - have drifted over for curiosity's sake.

Star-Lord doesn't interrupt anything. A performance is a performance. Instead, he clips his walkman back to his belt and sways a bit to the music that is being played and the lyrics that are being sung. He even mouths the words a little bit. He knows this track from pretty way back.

When people start to arrive to see what is going down, he reaches for the nearest female human and takes her by the hand. The stressed out housewife is caught off guard for a few reasons but Quill takes her right into a dance. Also, he activates his charing smile! This is what happens when he gets distracted by music. Dance.

An audience, Blaise is used to. Performance and spectacle tends to draw people in, and he takes it as a compliment every time. As his vocal note fades with soft vibrato and the piano notes take over, he affords himself a chance to glance around the room. Eyes are met, smiles given, and he pauses upon catching sight of a somewhat scruffy rogue in convention clothes drawing a lady whom he realizes, by merit of her more sensible fashion, likely isn't with him into a dance. And suddenly, the song has additional purpose. It reflects in an added edge to his voice, pushing it just that /little/ bit more to usher in atmosphere.

"Don't go~ tryin'… some new fashion…"
"Don't change the color of you hair."
"You always have my… unspoken passion~."
"Although I might not seem to care~…"

"I~ don't want~ clever… conversation."
"Never want to work that hard…"
"I just want someone… that I can talk to~!"
"I want you just the way~ you are~…"

As the piano melody seems to reset, it's done with some added flourish. It's kept to a conservative level, appropriately blending with the natural tune, but given just enough to add flavor in trills and subtle rolls.

There are a lot of things that Peter Quill is not good at. A lot of things. Okay, a WHOLE lot of things. But dancing isn't on that list. While he doesn't come with the professional standard that people that get paid to move are privy to, he does have something closer to a more natural ability. Not to mention his eyes are closed so he's likely putting more emotion into his movements than skill.

Which makes it all better.

His eyes don't even dare to open as he pulls the housewife in close and gives her a dip, stepping back and giving her a twirl. Somehow, through sheer force of love of music, Peter manages to keep up with any slight changes in vocal or musical range. If these two (and a half) performers weren't completely different in every single way… one might could say this was a flash mob attempt!

A very uh… melodic flash mob.

The dancing has drawn in a few more spectators, but they seem hesitant to join in. Getting people to swallow their pride and risk looking silly in Bayville is a tough call, and though Blaise may carry the mutant gene, but it doesn't allow him to remove others' inhibitions. But that's part of what makes this impromptu accompaniment special.

Blaise begins the bridge, his gaze settled on the ivories arranged before him.

"I need to know that you al~ways be~…"
"The same ol' someone that I~ knew…"
"Ahh~, what will it take 'till you believe~ in me~…"
"The way that I believe in you~?"

The notes ascend, and Blaise spares a glance aside to Peter with a small grin. Dipping! Classy. He has no idea who this person is, but he's enjoying the performance as much as anyone else. His gaze returns to the piano briefly, only to lid over, allowing the moment to take over.

"I~ said I love you… 'n that's forever~."
"'N this I promise from~ the heart~…"
"I couldn't love you~… any better…"
"I love you just the way you are~…"

This is a moment that should be captured in time. A moment that should never be lost. A moment that should be trapped forever in a visual image that doesn't move!

In other words, it's a Kodak Moment.

Peter doesn't even realize if people are holding up phones and taking video recordings of this for their various social media websites and such. He doesn't pay attention to anything but the music and his dance partner. He gives her another twirl before releasing her back to the crowd, as he glides himself over towards the piano and leans against it. He just nods his head to the music that's going, swaying softly in his inability to not just simply love every note that's being played.

The housewife, slightly dizzy as she may be, reaches out for Peter. The fleeting moment seems to have made her day and she probably wants to make /his/. Good thing her son is there to drag her away.

The last vocal note is held considerably longer than those prior, signaling to those familiar with musical tropes, that a break in the vocals is coming. Usually a solo would be inbound, and for this particular song, it would come in the form of a saxophone. But given what Blaise has to work with, his fingers perform a fluid dance along the keys to make up.

As the fluttery embellishment fills the air, his eyes open and lift to spot Peter now propped against the baby grand. He flashes a simply smile, soon followed by the perk of an eyebrow. "Hey," he says, voice lowered to not disrupt the flow of music. "You know this song, right? Take the next verse." Blaise is not a spotlight hog. Including others can be a lot of fun, especially when they seem as into it as this oddly-dressed fellow.

Whatever Peter decides, the solo lasts only twenty seconds or so. But Blaise doesn't thrust the song back into the melody - he slows things down to give ample warning that the next verse is coming.

Quill raises an eyebrow and his hands just as fast as he's asked. "Ha, no thanks. I can't carry a note to save the galaxy. Dance is where I shine." Peter pushes away from the piano and does an awkward rendition of a handful of Michael Jackson dance moves to the music that doesn't fit that style of dance in the least. He even pelvic thrusts and pulls down an invisible fedora over his eyes. With the extra added moonwalk, which somehow manages to be on beat, Quill spins back around to face the piano player once more. "You go on and take us home." He has a job to prepare for in the first place.

Blaise blinks. He then blinks again. And when Quill spins, Blaise finishes the combo with, what else, a blink! But a soft good-natured laugh soon follows. "Alrighty."

"I~ don't want clever… conversation."
"I never want to work that hard~…"

The notes on the piano slow down, drawing dramatic emphasis to the last couple stanzas.

"I just want someone… that I can talk to."
"I want you just the way you are~…"

The notes ascend in a gentle, gradually diminishing climb until a final, lower note signals the songs end.

Oh Hells yeah, some vids of this are going to end up on the Youtubes. But at least it isn't going up as a fail video, given the applause they're getting from their spectators. It isn't every day they get live music /and/ dance. Some may regret not joining in on the opportunity, though. The incredulous clerk has given a wide, but amused shrug as Blaise eases the piano key lid down.

"Nice to find another music enthusiast?," chances Blaise. He knows rhythm when he sees it, and it takes a certain level of dedication to throw oneself into the public eye and just /go/ with it.

Being raised in space and trying to survive for, y'know, years kind of takes away shyness. Or anything else for that matter. There are much worse things than dancing in front of a crowd of Terrans. Most of them begin with calling Bereet by the wrong name.

He has so many pink ones, okay?

Anyway, Peter just offers a smile and a salute in Blaise's general direction. "You can say that again, Magic Fingers. Next time, though, we'll have to up the tempo. Then I'll show you guys how I really move." Peter grins and activates his horrible segue. "Speaking of moves, you wouldn't happen to know how to get to Michael Jackson's house, would you?"

Blaise props a hand to his hip, his stance relaxed, but not inattentive. "Sure. Sounds cool." And then this stranger inquires as to his associations with Mr. Jackson.

Blaise is dumbfounded. He has no idea how to respond. His smile is gone, his eyes are widened, and yet he remains still; FIRMLY still.

Is he suggesting he has some history with Michael Jackson? Is it because he's a musician? Is it a joke? It's a terribly inappropriate one! Blaise doesn't remember the last time someone made a crack at his age! Was he being serious?

"Wh-.. buh..," stumbles the teen, his mind racing for the most logical conclusion. "Uh.."

"Right. Guess not. Don't worry, dude. I'll find it myself."

Peter flashes a grin and reaches out to slap Blaise on the shoulder. Because, y'know, back in the 80's, people were touchy-feely like that. Star-Lord has no qualms about invading other people's personal space. There's a housewife that quite enjoyed it being dragged through the mall right now as proof!

"Nice jammin' with you, though!" Peter is already spinning away from the piano and Blaise in an effort to Marty McFly himself back to the mall for more Michael Jackson searching!

The hand lands on his shoulder, and Blaise blinks. "You were… serious?," he asks. Peter starts to exit, leaving a very baffled Blaise in his wake. But he pipes up with a sudden, "He died, dude!"


Peter Quill is about halfway through making sure his coat is flapping in the nonexistent wind when he stops and turns to look right around at Blaise. He just stares. For a long moment. The longest moment that he's had since he's been back on Earth. A moment that seems like it is causing the walls around him to close in and the dark to overtake all that is light.

"Michael Jackson. The King of Pop." Peter keeps staring at Blaise. He even tries to take a step but it looks like one of his legs is too weak to move. "He's…?" Peter closes his eyes to compose himself. This news is uh… pretty Earth shattering to someone like him.

His resolve kicks in and he throws his coat open, revealing his weapons. His hands go to his guns and he looks like he's ready to go to war.

"… Who did it?"

The crowd has mostly dispersed, but for a few lingering to talk or look at the piano. It's for sale, after all! So this moment? It's between one space man and one earth youth.

And it lasts so long, even Michael Jackson would be hitting the 'next scene' button.

Peter and Blaise have something of a stare down, with both expressions seeming to err on the side of disbelief. How could someone not know MJ died? And then the coat swings back, revealing gun- wait, no.

Blaise's head cocks down to regard what might be pistols, then to the side as he makes an observation. "Hey, the plasma pistols from Halo." So Peter's kind of a cosplayer, and he's playing this up! That's fun. He doesn't particularly /get/ it yet, but hey, cool, he's having a good time, Blaise is on board with that.

Azure eyes raise to the older male. "Oh, a lot've people think it was his doctor. But I think it was ruled natural causes?"

Peter makes a mental note. "Doctor. Got it." The coat is allowed to close back around his shoulders to make him look somewhat normal again. He has no idea what a Halo is but he's not about to correct this kid on his weaponry. The less he knows about it the better.

"First, the job. Then, the vengeance." Peter gives another one of those half-salutes to Blaise. "Thanks for the info, Piano Man. You go ahead and tell all your Terran buddies that MJ'll be avenged. You tell 'em Star-Lord said it."

Blaise hooks his thumbs in his pants pockets and blinks owlishly at the man before him, who appears to be so very committed to the role! He can appreciate that dedication to a performance, but he still doesn't get it! At least he's given a frame of reference - sort of - in the form of a name-drop. And yet…


The vengeful facial expression of heroism fades as the Who? is tossed at him so harsh and callously. His posture reverts to a more slumped state as he looks defeated and frustrated at the same time. However, there's still some hope that lingers behind those eyes as he explains to Blaise, "Star-Lord, man. Y'know, the legendary outlaw?"

Blink. He looks so disappointed. It must be a niche thing he's just not heard of.

Blaise puts on the sincerest, most supportive smile he could muster and offers an upturned-thumb at the other guy.


Peter rolls his eyes a little bit and just gives another nod and salute to Blaise. "I really gotta' get a publicist or somethin'. Not even on Earth?" With a sigh, Peter turns to make himself scarce. The walking off turns into a brisk jog towards the center of the upstairs of the mall. He leaps over the side and drops.

Only for a moment, though, because his jet boots activate and he's taken back up and towards the skylight in the roof. He touches the back of his ear and his helmet surrounds his face and head.


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