#((can't have a proper 80s au without a very 80s game of hacky sack after all))

[foxedthecards]

Kit turned his head inquiringly at Artair. " Ah! Well it's a little bit of a game. Usually it's with a knitted beanbag of sorts instead of a crushed beer can. But nothing too complicated, " he remarked. " Mainly just use your feet to keep it from hitting the ground. And see how long you can do it. "

The tnk! sound of the can popping up through the air echoed off the walls of the warehouse as Kit bounced it over to his other foot. He gazed at it with thoughtful amber eyes. " Eh, don't fancy being a corporate shill, Artair. My soul might be a nasty black wreck but it's my own, isn't it, " he commented. " They'd be desperate to scrub every 'fuck' and 'shit' in those lyrics, sanitize them for commercial consumption and I hardly ever write them down anyways...just sort of spit then out up on the stage while I'm there, as they come in my head. Here put your foot up like this. I'll bunt the can over to you...try to catch it on the side of your foot, alright? "

He closed his eyes and made his amused noise again. " Mmm. Flattery will get you everywhere, " he said, his tone light. " Thank you. Mostly self-taught but not like that's a feat in of itself. Learn the basic chords then everything else is just you fucking around to find interesting noises, isn't it. Vagrant lifestyle is bill-free however. "

He opened his eyes, glanced down and idly rolled an empty beer can up onto his foot, balancing it on it. He played around a bit with it like a soccer ball, making it pop repeatedly in the air a bit and switching legs as he bounced it off the side of his shoes.

" Music is my possessive mistress, " he joked. " She'd never want to pay my bills anyways. It's another creative way to scream at the world, that's all. " He stood there a second on one leg with the beer can balanced precariously on it. " Ever play hacky sack, Wren? "