#E.Q. Fridays

[dachosmin]

Hi there, just wanted to touch base with you about your latest iteration on the deliverable!

I think this narrative adds a lot of value; E.Q. is clearly one of your core strengths.  The synergy between Dean and Castiel as they onboard their relationship is top notch.  Very excited to see what the next steps are here; you’re a true thought reader for this fandom!

I’m putting time on my calendar to circle back and review the next iteration once you have the bandwidth to draft it.  What are you proposing in terms of timelines?  Friday EOD???

Best,

playing a new game where i talk about fandom using words that belong on corporate powerpoint slides like:

✨ we have to align our headcanons to authentically reflect our strategic mission and meet quarterly margin objectives ✨

sorry to everyone who understood that

[humanscandrivestick]

The yearly Christmas special, with some new cameo characters that have been added in over the last year....Bass meets a young traveler with a pretty intense past, and Treble and Fade encounter a young MC on his day off.

https://sites.google.com/site/thisisrandomlunacy/home/articles/027

[humanscandrivestick]

E.Q.--The Last Christmas

The last christmas for the boys before the defection.

December that year was hard on Felipe, hell the whole year was.  Arpeggio could see it in the languid lines of his shoulders, the often distracted answers, forgetting things.  Even coloring his hair was lazy these days, a flat red color for the last couple months.  

He was just....tired.  

"Fel?"

"Hm??"

"...never mind."

Arpeggio was trying to clear time for them to enjoy the holidays but it was hard.  As the illustrious Trancer 42, the hardest of busts and the most important of control situations usually went to them.  Gigs for election rallies.  World series games.  Tree lighting ceremonies being lined up like figurines in a collection.  He could reduce their office hours to only clocking in on gigs but even that felt exhausting.  Arpeggio had to admit it to himself one day as he glanced in the bathroom mirror.

Darkened circles beneath his eyes told a story of little restful sleep.  Even he felt his skin was paler than a clump of snow.

"Jesus, I look like death warmed over,"  he said to his reflection.  He recalled that Felipe had the same signs of exhaustion, and sighed.

"We both do."

~~~

Felipe lay across their couch that night, languid arm over his eyes as Arpeggio was making dinner.  Despite the fact they had made it back earlier than usual, 6 pm, it felt like 10 to the both of them.

"Fel, how much bacon do you want on this sandwich?"

"Uh...whatever," he replied.  His voice had the husk of soreness.  

He came out of the kitchen and set 2 plates with large sandwiches on their coffee table.  The faux redhead didn't even bother getting up for nearly a minute.

Arpeggio chewed his slowly as he spaced out by watching their window.  It had begun to rain, and the light caught the streetlights.  Amber beads rolled down the dark window.

"Pege," whispered Felipe.  

"Yes...?"

"I'm...I'm tired."  His voice sounded just....dead.

Used to deeper meanings to even the simplest of words, the Tchaikovsky's Child put his sandwich down and looked at his partner.  Feeling there is more, he stayed quiet.

"I....I'm tired.  I'm so damn tired."  His whisper had a small hitch in it.  

Arpeggio got up and sat next to him on the floor.  He, after nearly 16 years with someone who wore his emotions on his sleeve, still had trouble trying to find the right actions, words, or even music to communicate.  His shoulder rested gently against Felipe, the physical contact was what he hoped was the "right" response.  It bothered Arpeggio.  That he constantly had to question which responses to people, especially people close to himself, were "correct".

His partner moved his arm, looked down at Arpeggio who stared at him with his usual placid face though the eyes were concerned.  He took a deep breath and sighed.  

"I'm sorry.  ...I shouldn't complain.  You've been tired too."  He reached over and brushed some of his jet black hair from his forehead.  "You look practically clear these days, Pege."  He gave a half-hearted chuckle.  "You're gonna look like the visible man if you're not careful."

Arpeggio took his hand and gave it a squeeze.  "Fel.  You don't have to pretend.  Not around me.  Please.  Its....its heartbreaking...."

It was the last word that got Felipe.  That he used the word "heartbreaking".  His face quickly crumpled and he took a deep, shuddering breath before he started to cry.  It wasn't body wracking, but it was so full of despair.  

The fact he's so tired that he can't even cry as hard as he can see he wants to hurts Arpeggio to the core.  He gets off the floor to hold him, and he just pulls him into his embrace.  They sit in the living room, food cooling, just holding each other.  The raven-haired musician cried to himself too.  He couldn't tell if it was because he too felt so despairing and tired....or if he was feeling Felipe's emotions right through him.  Felipe ended up crawling into bed, and Arpeggio wrapped their dinners up, setting them next to the last 2 nights of dinner half eaten.  He crawled into bed behind him, and they both fell asleep.  

Arpeggio wept softly, holding Felipe.  It was a long, hard night.

~~~

They took the next 2 weeks off, and while Emi gave them a lot of grief over it, when Arpeggio told her it was final and set their armbands and badges on her desk, she accepted it with a grumble.  It was for show but it was a show she bought.  

"She works through every holiday, even Christmas," Felipe muttered.  "She ain't human, I swear."

"Agreed.  Now let's clean up the desks, we won't be back til after New Years."  Their office was pretty clean anyhow, but they packed up a few things from the desks.  Felipe was packing a secret, small, frankensynth into a box that Arpeggio pretended not to see, then stopped.  Like a jump cut, his body language changed from lighthearted if tired, to exhausted and completely drained.  His face was anguished.  He leaned on his desk, his head bent down as his flyaway hair obscured his eyes.  Small tears began to hit the desk.

"Fel?" Arpeggio asked, his voice really concerned.  

"Its...its not even done," he says between sobs.

"...What...isn't?"

"Your...your song.  I haven't gotten a single thing...not a single note."  He cried, softly, so no one would hear.  "I haven't gotten a single thing done....and I've tried.  I've tried so damn hard, Pege...but....nothing.  Nothing comes out."

Arpeggio takes a few seconds to let it sink in before he sets this box on the other desk and pulls him into another embrace.  He can't recall a recent time when he's felt he's had to hold Felipe so often.  Even his last nightmare cycle didn't require the amount of reassuring he had been doing lately.  

Or was he trying to reassure himself?  That by holding him, it would make things better, even for a short amount of time?

Or was he trying to keep his partner from falling to pieces?

"Let's go home, Fel.  We're tired."

Felipe nodded, dried his face, and after a few breaths, seemed to be calmer.  But the depressed aura around him hadn't evaporated, even a little.  If anything, it felt as if it had grown thicker.

~~~

Felipe let himself feel inconsolable for the next day or so.  Arpeggio could finally see how hard he must have been working to pretend he was just fine, if tired from the month, to everyone else.  Even to Trancer 8392.  Enough to even fool Tungsten.  He tried to get to the laptops, his synths, to try to get something out but he'd simply sit there and stare at the machines, his eyes faraway.  

Arpeggio ended up entirely scrapping the song he had started himself.  He admitted privately as he shredded the music sheets, that he hadn't liked a single thing he'd put down.  He kept working, as if it would resolve itself but it wasn't until Felipe had his small anxiety over his that he realized it wasn't really what he wanted to do with it.

They moped around the apartment for a few days, listlessly going about the motions of living, but neither of them really spoke much.  They gave up on the music for the time being.  It was the first time Arpeggio actually felt a rut he couldn't escape from.  Something told him that while it wasn't Felipe's first rodeo, this also wasn't a normal occurrence.  

Christmas Eve, they were sitting in the living room, instruments on the table.  They had been sitting next to each other, and everything had been listless, unproductive work.

Felipe finally cut to the chase, his voice deadened.  "You think...we're tapped?  Like...this is it?  We're...we're through?"

Arpeggio's heart skipped a few beats because he isn't sure what Felipe means by the word "through".  He looked at his partner and the alarm in his eyes must have made Felipe rethink what he said because his black eyes blinked in surprise.

"Not us," he said rushed.  "I mean....us.  Music.  I mean.  Work is...work."  He tried motioning with his hands.  "Work...you don't think, you just...do what they say you do, with the pieces they give.  Doesn't feel like making music.  So I don't mean that.  I mean...making music...."  He drifted off because he was frustrated that he can't articulate what he means.

But its something about what he said that made the TC put his hands up.

"Work...you don't think, you just...do what they say you do, with the pieces they give."

Felipe stopped talking.  Waited.

Arpeggio can hear it in his mind's ear.  He couldn't pinpoint the actual "when" it had started but he could hear it clearly.  When Trancer 42 had started, Felipe would bend the rules, bend the samples, making music but toeing the line between sanctioned Music Corps work and music.  There was life in their pieces, its what made them recognized, efficient....untouchable it seemed.

Then....after a long, long time...Felipe's hand was left deft.  More automatic, almost robotic.  Like the children's game where someone starts a gesture and everyone follows in such a way so that eventually you can't tell who started and who's just miming, he couldn't tell if it was the Corps "style" from his own training leaking into their style, or if he was taking cues from Felipe.

But at some point....Trancer 42 stopped making music...and had deftly fallen into line.

"...you just...do what they say you do, with the pieces they give."

This isn't the Felipe he knew.  Not anymore.

"When...did we stop making music...?"

Felipe KNEW exactly what he was asking because he himself was questioning it.  By the time he was able to notice....they'd been playing the MC's tune so long he couldn't tell when it started.

His face had a look of recognizing, melancholy, and something like relief.  "...Its...its not just me then."  It wasn't even a question.  It was a statement.

They say it at the same time, as if rushing to reassure the other: "I'm sorry."  It quiets them for a long time.  

Then, as if something in Felipe woke up after a long sleep, he snapped, "Well fuck that."  He took up one of the laptops and started on his music making program.

Arpeggio watched him for a bit before his partner glanced at him.  

"What?  Ain't we gonna jam?"

Arpeggio could see the barest of glimmers of that spark in his eye.  He gave him a small smile.  

"At least hook something up to record it."

It wasn't the most ideal Christmas, and the both of them knew something had changed.  Maybe something had changed so much that going back to the days they couldn't remember was now impossible.  But even Arpeggio knew something had changed.  Not between them, just around them.

A few months later, Arpeggio was staring at his partner, his face facing the window as they watch police cars finally pull away from their latest bust.  He's putting his violin back in its case after tuning it.

"I don't want to do this anymore."

They were the words he was expecting to hear.  He had a script to say, he knew what he had to do to defer this urge.  He knew what he was trained and told to say to keep him in the Music Corps, what he had to do to protect the Corps, protect its integrity, its grip on the world, at the cost of running their best musicians into the ground.

He's never told Felipe since they ran that he wasn't trying to see his resolve in leaving; he was planning this moment since that Christmas Eve.  He just never thought he'd be doing it the way it turned out.

"I want out, Pege."

[humanscandrivestick]

E.Q.–D Plane: A Halloween Special

Hey guys, been working on moving the series to a dedicated website, I’ll keep you all updated, but until then, here’s a sequel to the Early Water Side A halloween special.

Click here for D Plane on Random Lunacy!

[humanscandrivestick]

E.Q.--Lights Out

The “morning” after Felipe and Arpeggio’s lives changed forever.

Felipe opened his eyes in the middle of the night.  He hadn't been dreaming, but he had been sleeping.  He couldn't see his clock but he could see the light of the sky from the window.  It was still dark.  Not yet that lightening deep indigo, the one he used to dub a "3 hour sky".  Felipe, the sometimes lazy bedbug he liked to be, often preferred to sleep in well past 9 am, and would sometimes wake up on fitful nights only to roll over and go back to sleep.  He refused to keep a clock in his room, as it would only remind him of what time he had left before he had to rise.  But a glance at the sky could often tell him how many hours it would be before sunrise.  A 3 hour sky would mean he had about 3 hours before needing to wake in the early morning, like 8 am.

The sky was far darker than a 3 hour sky, and he knew he hadn't been asleep long.  He glanced next to him, where Arpeggio has curled against him.  His arms were wrapped around him loosely.  

It seemed the last few hours were something of a long dream.  Their long coming spring.  He replayed the moments in the elevator.  In his bedroom.  The heart rending pain yet overwhelming relief.  

It was like a dream come true, a dream he hadn't even known he ever had.  The end of a long, long fall.  A fall so long that he'd never even realized he had been falling in the first place.  And when he hit the bottom....the pain was soon outmatched by the love that was gained.

Arpeggio stirred a little in his sleep.  Felipe of course had slept in the same room with his partner before, on gigs and other missions.  They'd even shared a bed once or twice when lodgings were cheap.  But now he was holding him.  He was warm, and in the dim light from the city lights in the window, his alabaster skin seemed almost translucent.  Like an opal.  His jet black hair, tousled out of place from last night's events, looked like crow's feathers.  Arpeggio always swept his hair back, keeping it neat with product and constant smoothing back.  If he had any nervous habits, it was the tendency to smooth his hair down often.  In its natural state, Felipe liked the look of his hair.  It had layers to it that were generally unnoticed in his usual style.  He never really noticed, and part of Felipe regretted it.  The other part of him seemed content.  He could take his time discovering him.

He rolled to his side to pull him closer and the young TC opened his eyes.  Like perfect sapphires.  It was hard for Felipe not to find himself lost in them.

"Yes...?" Arpeggio whispered softly.  He wasn't used to being gazed at like this, not this close, but this time, Felipe's penetrating gaze didn't make him want to turn away.

His partner fumbled with words suddenly, his face reddening slightly.  He sighed and leaned his forehead against his.  "You're...just so frickin' beautiful."

The TC pulled his face back with a look of pure confusion.  It was adorable.  "Wh-what??  Isn't that something you say to a woman?"

He chuckled and ran his fingers though the jet black hair.  "I say it when its true."

"Romance doesn't seem to be your strong point either.  How is it that you bedded so many with such cheesy lines?"

"Hey, I'll have you know guys and chicks love my cheesy lines."

He gave a small scoffing noise but there was the barest of smiles on his lips.  "This...."

"This...?"

"This....is going to be...different, isn't it?"  His voice was barely a whisper.

"...Yeah....  It is.  And...its gonna be hard for both of us.  I mean...you're gonna be feeling shit you've never felt before.  And people are...prolly gonna treat you different."

Arpeggio was quiet as he glanced off past his partner's shoulder.  "...I don't...really care how people treat me."

"I know.  But I wanted to make sure you knew.  There are people who used to fear you; maybe they'll see you as going soft.  Maybe there are people who used to idolize you; maybe they'll see you as fallen and debased, or maybe they'll think you're even more attractive.  I dunno, maybe I'm just talking out my ass, and maybe I'm flattering myself, but there are even gonna be people who'll think you're associating below you.  That I'm going to ruin you....and...and, I don't...want you to feel bad about that or...."

Felipe realized he was talking faster and faster, his voice trembling.  That dark fear bloomed over him again.  Or maybe...maybe you won't want to be with me anymore....

Arpeggio reached out and touched his face.  He could feel Felipe's fear in his chest, and it hurt so hard it made his fingertips ache.

"Fel."

He looked back into his blue eyes.

After a brief moment of silence, he said softly, "Get some rest, Felipe...."

It echoed softly in Felipe's ear, "Try not to worry" reverberating in those 4 short words.  He nodded and leaned against him, shut his eyes and eased himself into sleep.

Arpeggio watched him, and followed him into the arms of sleep.

~~~

8 am and Arpeggio woke automatically.  He shook his partner's arm gently.

"Fel.  Come on.  Time to wake up for work."

He groaned and rolled to his stomach and buried his head in the pillows.  "Nyuuuooooo."

He sighed with mild frustration.  There was wave of relief that this usual morning routine hasn't changed, but its replaced with exasperation.  "Felipe....we'll be late."

The other young man groaned again and lifted his chin enough to talk unencumbered.  "No."

"Please?"

"Let's just stay home and have sex allllll dayyyyyy."  He glanced at him with a single, hopeful but lusty look.  And it made Arpeggio burst out laughing.

"I'd....I'd love to....but...."

Felipe laughed as well, and it felt good.  "Ok ok ok.  But next time?"

"We'll...see....  I don't see how we can make that an all day affair."

"Believe me, I could make it a 2 day affair...."

Somehow, they get dressed, with Arpeggio bringing his clothes into Felipe's room so that he could make sure he was getting dressed properly.  Tying his tie adroitly, he tutted as the other boy took his sweet time.

"Come on, Fel, we're going to be late."  He reached over and helped him button his shirt and tie the dark blue tie.  

Felipe leaned forward and kissed him, firmly but lovingly.  His alabaster skin quickly broke out into a deep flush.

Shrugging his blazer on, with a much more alert and cheerful demeanor than his previously slothful movements, Felipe headed to the door as his partner grappled with the sudden PDA.

As Arpeggio reluctantly came to the door and getting his keys, he gave him a gently yet still nervous smile.

"Ready to start the first day....of our new lives?"

It was an absurd thing to say.  Be he had to admit...it was startlingly true.

[humanscandrivestick]

E.Q.--All is Calm, All is Bright

The boys enjoy another quiet Christmas, on the years before.  And perhaps the years to come.

You take a drag off your cigarette as our song plays on the speakers next to us.  Your hair is tousled; not that I can talk.  You prefer mine just as messy, flaring out like...what did you call it?  Crow's feathers?  

I like yours.  Its like...hammered gold.  And your eyes.  Like black holes that pull you in, but they're not dead or crushing.  More like a magnetic pull.

"What?"

"Hmm?"

"You're staring at me."

"Am I?'

Another drag.  "Heh."

"I can't help it.  Sometimes I just....lose myself looking at you."

You chuckle.  "You say you're not a romantic, but you are.  You just say the kinda stuff you feel."

I can feel my face start to feel warm but its a comfortable feeling.  "Perhaps.  But I had a good teacher."

You blush back.  I love how it looks on you.  

"S'good song this year.  Good breakbeats."

"Mmm.  I suppose.  But it synergizes well with yours this year.

"I hate my vocals"

"You have some Flow.  But I prefer you singing."

You blush again.  I lean over to kiss you on the nose.

"Mnnnnn don't do thaaaat."

"Why?"

"Cuz that's my job."

You really do like to be the one on top in most of these situations, down to being more romantic.  Its an oddly humorous quirk of yours.

"Don't you like it when I'm romantic?"

"Yes."  The petulant lip pout makes you look childish.  

I pull him closer and kiss him over some of that wild gold hair.  "My, you're petulant tonight."

"Mm."

"....Felipe...?"

I feel your muscles ever so slightly tense.  Your old name still illicits a reaction.  Normally you prickle, and grow aggressive.  

When I use it, however...you tense.  As if bracing for something.

"....do....do you regret running....?"

You're quite a long time.

"Do you?"

Turning the question back, reflecting it like a mirror is something you do so often, I don't even get thrown off by it anymore.

I think a long time.  Of what we've faced since the night we left.  Of what we gained, what we lost, what we learned.  What hurt.  What was worth it.  

And what we left behind.

"Yes."

You pull away to stare at me.  You're not shocked in the traditional sense of the word; but you have the look of someone wanting to hear more.  Pained curiosity.

"I regret...."

"....what we left behind?"

"....I regret not leaving sooner.  Before...the Corps broke you so badly I was so...scared to let them break you further.  That I got to a point where...I feared....I feared them breaking you to the point where >I< broke you...."  I pause....I can't explain it, but I want to apologize for everything you'd gone through, seeing me regress to what they made me.  

All because I was afraid of losing you.

You pull me closer.  "You....you haven't broken me."

"I have.  I made you doubt....us."

"Fleace tried to make me doubt us.  The Corps tried to.  Hell, even...even I let myself doubt it.  But that wasn't because of you."

"I disagree."

"Disagree all you want, Pege.  I got scared too."

".....do you regret it?"

"You do."

"I said I did.  But I asked you first."

You're quite a long time too.  Then you inhale very slowly.

"Sometimes I do."

I'm more openly surprised because I can see you glancing sideways at me as you stare at the ceiling, finishing your cigarette.

"Parts of me regret making you leave everything you ever knew behind.  I hate myself for it.  I made you do something you wouldn't have chosen to do on your own.  And not because I told you to.  Its because you felt you had to for me.

"I mean...jesus.  The first couple night were I didn't let you make music?  I have waking nightmares remembering that shit.  The blood on the walls.  How you went so off the rails I thought I'd broken you myself."

You sit up and hunch over your bent knees, hugging them.  I don't think you're aware of doing it, but you seem so small.

"How....how I yanked you so far away from home that....that you and I were getting in punch ups.  I mean...jesus christ.  I was a fucking cunt to you....and you still....stayed by my side."

I sit up and mirror your pose, resting my chin on my knees.  I'm looking towards the end of the bed, but inwardly I can feel all of that pain and regret.  Your pain and regret.

Its exactly the same.  I wonder if you know that.

"But in the end....if I was forcing you to do it, I'd know.  And we wouldn't be here.  So in that way...I can't ever regret it.  Because its like I told you all those years ago after the elevator.  Love hurts.  And I don't want to hurt you....but I love you.  And we're gonna get hurt.  Cuz that's how love works."

"Exactly."  I lean my head on your shoulder.

"Though right now, that's a shit way to spend a Christmas....talking about regrets...."

"New Year's is coming.  We can jettison the baggage after."

"Still.  Why did you even ask, Treb?"  You look at me with eyes that seem sad.  "I mean...shit."

"Because I wanted to say....even if I regret it, I'd still do it all again to be with you."

You wrinkle your nose.  "That ain't real regret then."

"Now you're arguing semantics."

"You're pickin' fights."

"You like that about me."

"Since when??"

I chuckle.  You chuckle.

"I guess even the best couples need to chat out their doubts and fears."

"Makes us honest."

"While we're on the subject..."

I look at your lecherous look.  

"NO Bass.  I don't want a threesome with Quentin."

You pout and roll to your side petulantly.

"You're no fucking fun."

I spoon you.  "That's not what you were saying earlier."

"Merry fucking christmas, Treble."

"Happy christmas to you, Bass."

You let me rest my head against your back.  Its warm.  

Our songs repeat once again.  A comfortable cycle I am content to continue for the rest of my life.

[humanscandrivestick]

E.Q.--Concordia

Concordia is the Latin word for "harmony," literally "with (one) heart." It may refer to: Concordia (mythology), the Roman goddess of harmony.

~~~

Bass leaned his head back into Treble's chest, one earbud in his left ear while Treble had the right one.  They were on another round of their christmas gifts, their yearly song exchange as they watched the snow from their apartment window.  This year, Balance had taken Fade out on a "girly" event night with a few of the other girls in the network.  Bass wondered why Moebius had gotten an invite for it, though Treble insisted it was because she was female.  Bass still felt he was male, because, as it out it, "that's the kinda boy I like, if you weren't in the picture", which only made Treble smirk sheepishly.

It was a quiet Christmas for them, able to just snuggle down and be with each other.  There were times Treble marveled at the fact that unlike most couples, they never were bored with each other.  The french redhead pointed out that it was because they were merely one person occupying 2 locations in space, a rather midnight nirvana kinda observation he was wont to have when the 3 of them were just chilling and smoking and drinking together.

Quentin had opted also to stay behind that Christmas Eve, shocked that Treble didn't object, and left to go grab something--or rather lots of somethings--to drink and eat.  There weren't a lot of places open late, but when he got back, both men were still watching the snow in the christmas lit living room.

"Mind if I turn on a lamp?" he asked as he set the drink and snack fixings on the coffee table.

Bass lazily waved at him as he stretched a little.  Treble gave him a nod, but his gaze was out the window.  He certainly did like watching the snow almost as much as Bass liked watching the rain.

With their phones connecting to the internet for recipes, the boys made a number of sweet cocktails--Quentin's second guilty pleasure--and enjoyed it with sliced meats, cheeses and crackers--Bass and Quentin's first guilty pleasures.  They brought out some instruments, though Bass was taking a vacation from the synths.  It's the holidays and sometimes a man should take a break when he's done with hard work.

While Treble nursed what Bass called a Cinderella (a fruit juice non-alcoholic), Quentin leaned back and licked his fingers.  "Treb?"

"Yes?" he asked, his deep blue eyes curiously but calmly flicking over.

"You're...sure it's ok I celebrate Christmas with you and Bass...?"

He gave a short derisive snort.  "Like I was going to let you have him for the holiday."

Bass gave him a sheepish but sharp look.  "Treeeeeeb."

"No no.  I mean...like it's ok for me to be with you guys...."  He was looking into his drink, a seabreeze.  "I know you guys...always do something on your holiday."

Treble could hear the barest edges of a familiar loneliness.  The same Bass had back in the Corps when he was away for the holiday.  He and Bass truly were cut from the same cloth, even if they were sewn up differently.

"We exchange music.  It's not as if it's a ceremony."  He said it with a square frankness that Quentin wasn't sure how to handle, but Bass, reading his partner like a painting, gave Quentin a warm squeeze on the knee.

"He's tryin' to say he knew you'd be lonely and that we didn't want you to be." "I didn't say that," Treble said curtly, though it was curt enough to be obviously true.

"I know.  S'why I had to say it.  Out loud."  He leaned into Quentin's legs, using his knees and thighs as an armrest.  "But...I didn't want you to be lonely neither.  I've spent enough christmases alone to know that's no bueno, bro."

The redhead's eyes were still a little uncertain.  He wasn't the type to try to step on people, and for that Bass--and deep down Treble--understood.  

"Dude, you're here now and you got nowhere to go.  I wouldn't letcha be by yourself."  As Treble sipped his drink and lazily strummed his guitar,  Bass looked up at Quentin.  "Tell ya what.  I'll tell you all the crazy shit that used to happen back when Treb and I were in the Corps, all the crazy christmas stories."

Treble looked up quizzically.  "Oh I see.  'scary ghost stories and tales of old glories of christmases long, long ago'?"

"Pretty harsh to hear you call 'im ghost stories," Bass said, grinning.

"I suppose those are for Halloween then."

"He'd never believe the real ones."

Quentin watched and listened to their banter and smiled.  It was like being with friends, though he'd usually had few in his early life. 

Cry over this now, Quent, and they'd never let you hear the end of it, he thought ruefully, though he was smiling.

Treble leaned back.  "Wouldn't be the same without all the music...."

If Bass were a dog, his ears would be perked.  "What, you sayin' a lil playlist to go with the story telling?"

"I don't know if we even have the old stuff....we'd have to play by ear."

"You say that like we couldn't."

"With your memory."

"And yours too."

"Sure," Quentin said, and cocked his head.  "I wanna hear 14 years worth of love songs."

Neither of them seemed to notice, but Quentin saw the same smile cross both their faces.  Other people would probably say that they were entirely different, with Bass' stretching eagerly over his mouth, and the corners of Treble's mouth barely moving, but the spark in their eyes as they went to collect instruments and other electronics was exactly the same.  

~~

It was a long play that both men played.  Treble was shocked that Bass still had the original files stored away on a small keychain thumb-drive card.  They weren't of the best quality, but between the both of them, they made a more robust sound, filling in and remixing over the original files with live instruments.  Occasionally, Bass would drop a break beat, or Treble would extend a refrain as they recounted every one of those 14 years, never in order, though their first christmas was told first.  Seeing Bass nostalgically relive those moments of uncertainty, and Treble recount his efforts to comfort him.  The year they wrote music for the man that sent Treble a guitar for his birthday.  That lonely Christmas Eve when Treble took that fighter jet cross country to make it back in time for christmas.  Each story was further affirmation to Quentin what they both had between each other.

It ached a little, but it felt more good than bittersweet.  He had never felt such a strong love for anyone as he did for Bass.  The thoughts he could live in a world without him was as incomprehensible as gravity theory.  

In a way...he was glad he defected.

Treble was playing a few of their songs together on the guitar, as Bass cozied up on Quentin's lap on the couch.  The redhead was leaned against his arm, though not intimately.  The 3 of them sat in a warm silence.

"Thank you," Quentin said softly.  Treble turned his head slightly to look at him.  "Its prolly been one of the best holidays I've ever had.  Like ever."

"He...reminds me a lot of you.  You both have this sort of way you express emotion.  You don't like to impose, but you don't sugar coat."  Treble was never good at words but he senses Quentin needs them more than implication.  "And you both can get so unbearably lonely its obvious you go out of your way to not be...."

"Am I that obvious?”

"Sometimes.  Though I'd assume you wouldn't have tracked us down post Sound Tower to find us if you didn't get so lonely."

"Don't talk like that or I'll libel to start cryin'."

"You're not that puss."

"Well, thank you for the compliment.  I think."

Quentin leaned his head on Treble's shoulder, and the raven-haired man made a playful show of moving it off with a comical look of disgust.  "Don't think I want to bump uglies with you, baguette."

"I know," chucked Quentin.  "Bass-sexual is what you are."

"I prefer to think monogamous."

"Picky," corrected Bass, his eyes shut.

Treble merely rolled his eyes, but there was an amused glint to it.

They watched the snow come down through the window.  And Quentin spoke up again, contented.  "This is nice."

At the same time, both men said, "I was going to say the same thing."

[humanscandrivestick]

Dec. 22 Concordia

Its been rough trying to keep up with E.Q. since I haven't had time to write, but I wasn't going to miss the annual christmas story.  Its a quieter, sweet story, and has one of my fav characters, Quentin, as a main player.  Its been awhile since I shaded with pencils but it gives a really quiet, warm look.  Still need to work on fold rendering but I like the overall look.  Quentin's expression came out really well.  The eye color is pen, but it pops nicely with the monotone mood.  Originally, I was going to use the title "Concordant" but "Concordia" flows off the tongue nicer and its meaning is closer to the spirit of the story.

Treble, Bass, Quentin and E.Q. belong to me.

Previous Day 22 (under construction) Google Gallery for All Years Google Gallery for Photos & Flowers

[humanscandrivestick]

E.Q.--Early Water: A Halloween Special

Apologies on 2 fronts: 1) that this is a few hours late for the countdown, since I was working on it all day between actual work, and 2) its the first E.Q. story in MONTHS since The Lift.  ;.; I swear to get back at it guys.  I promise.

Taking place in the Side A part of the story (a first!), this halloween story takes place after album 2, and includes my favorite character Quentin for once XD.  It also has some minor sexy parts so maybe nsfw just in case.  Inspired by the Michael Hoenig & Manuel Göttsching song, of the same title: Early Water. Enjoy!

~~~

"I wouldn't say its an urban legend, if it has good eyewitnesses," Pollex said, leaning back in his chair.  He raised an eyebrow at his open chat screen at Django.  "If, that is, you have some." "Eyewitnesses?  Hell, old friend, I've been there."  The older man, taking off his trademarked fedora, ran a hand through his sandy colored hair.  Today's outfit was a navy colored button up shirt with grey pinstripes, and navy colored slacks.  The usual contrast from Pollex's usual all-white attire, with light accents of lavender. The man in white sat up slowly, a look of puzzled concern on his face.  "You've...been there?  Are you mad?  You don't know what else could have happened!" "I'm not the sort of man who sends his men into unknown territory, you know that."  Django sighed and leaned back in his chair, a hand across his eyes.  "In any case...the rumors are true.  That place...is....  Its quite dangerous if word got out more." "Indeed.  The young and adventurous often seek out higher highs than they're prepared for.  I've already got the Suits and Hoover working the acid wave that's hitting recently, but no bites there." "You think they're related?" "I don't believe so.  From your description, there isn't even the inkling of music.  Is there?" He frowned in recollection.  "Something's going on there.  Definitely infrasound first, because you're getting nausea in the first part of the place.  But if there was music...I don't rightly recall it.  I'm sure there was.  I can't think of anything logical that would cause me to see my late wives so vividly." Pollex frowned harder.  "You saw your wives..??" Django sat up and gave him a long pained look.  His eyes were the color of watered down aquamarines. "I don't believe in ghosts." "Nor I." "But I did see them, Pollex.  I.... I held Mary in my arms....I could hear Lora's voice.  This was...so real on every level, Pollex.  If they weren't ghosts, they were one hell of an illusion.  One hell of one.  I'm thankful I had enough of my senses to take off and leave.  Because if you were me....you wouldn't have believed they'd been dead for over 15 years."

~~

Bass was on the floor of the music room, laid out on his back, smoking as he listened to Quentin and Treble play on some synths he'd whipped up on a building lark.  He'd had the pieces lying around and wanted to see how much of a machine he could get out of them.   Though the pair had spent most of their time mildly bickering over style choices and instruments, it'd been quite a pleasant, Ocotber afternoon.  Treble was dressed lightly, jeans, blue converses, a light blue shirt and dark blue jacket.  Bass stared at the ceiling lazily, wearing black denim jeans, orange high top converses with yellow laces (his candycorns, as he called them), and a long sleeved black shirt with red sleeves, sliced at the shoulder to expose them.  Something halfway between summer wear and fall wear, but Bass was a Cali boy and he needed the transitional wear more than most.  Quentin had similar colors in his outfit; a red and white hoodie with black sleeves, brown trousers and a pair of red sneakers, matching the color of his hair. "You know," he trailed off as he took a drag.  Treble and Quentin glanced over from their bickering.  "You guys sound like a married couple." Quentin went pink nearly immediately, but Treble rewarded him with a withering look and pushed his glasses up his nose.   "Oh please," scoffed Treble as he unplugged the synth to test another piece of machinery.  "I'd sooner swallow my tongue." Quentin gave him a matching look.  "Gee, love you too, darling." Bass laughed.  "We used to snip like that when we first started dating." "As if you actually remember that time period," Treble said coolly.  Had anyone else mentioned Bass' memory loss--particularly that part of his life--Bass would have clocked him clear across the room.  But from Treble, he only gave him another chuckle and drag from the cigarette, blowing a thin trail of smoke. Fade came in, plainly dressed because she had been working on Bass' side car to his motorcycle, wearing black tights beneath a long sleeved gray t-shirt dress that ended at her mid thigh, and white sneakers.  It still had her usual touches, in that the cuffs and bottom hem had a trim of faded cream lace, and her neck ribbons were of a silken, silvery gray.  She also had a kind of frilly, laced maid headband on, like a french maid, only it was adorned with a single black bat. Bass gave her a lazy wave.  "Ey, Babydoll.  How goes my second baby?" Her hands signed, and Treble had to look up because Bass was one of the few people he knew who didn't understand a lot of sign language.  Your springs need replacing soon, but the oil is topped off.  He repeated her verbally and Bass nodded. "Yeah, sounds about right.  How 'bout my Lady?" He meant his kneeling racer, the RS80 Elegant Lady, a non-street legal kneeling bike with a side attachment made for sidecarcross or sidehacking.  The 2 of them had been planning on installing lights for night riding, and refitting the sidecar portion to be a little more safer for riders other than Treble.  It was a personal pet project ever since Bass scored half the engine and the frame from a junker months ago. To Bass, it was his ultimate plaything, besides the frankensynths he was wont to making on whims.  To everyone else, it was a deathtrap to everyone but Treble and Bass. We're going to need to hack the frame to fit the components for the lights.  The brakes need a ton of work. "Lights don't fit, brakes need work," translated Treble. "I'll do a frame hack when I can get my hands on the fiberglass and materials." She shrugged but part of her was excited for the project.  She liked the challenge. "You ever gonna race that monstrocity?" asked Quentin. "Fuck yeah.  I've been dreaming of a EL for ages to drive." Balance entered the room, a little more pensive than usual. Fade and Treble waved, but Quentin questioningly looked at her.  She was dressed lighter for the season, with a black bandeaux style top that showed off her middrift, brown shorts and a short sleeved brown canvas top with faux fur trim.  That was the English part of her showing. "What's the matter, Bal?" She was chewing her thumbnail in thought then looked up at them.  "Mm.  Dunno.  Heard some weirdo stories, trying to decide if they're true." "What kinda stories?" asked Bass, sitting up to put the butt of his cigarette out. "Ghost stories." Treble raised an eyebrow.  "Didn't think you were the type." "I was just messing around with some guys in the painter's department, getting stuff for the next few easies and directions and stuff."  The painter department in question were Pollex's street artists and graffiti artists at the ready to tag places in the city to tell people where the next easy he was hosting was.  It took a practiced hand to make the seeming vandalized art convey messages like locations and times and musicians, and it took a practiced eye to decipher them.  Part of the department was usually made of artists and cryptographers.   "Bass likes scary stories," Quentin said, pointing a thumb at him. Bass shrugged.  "I like hearing them...been in maybe one or 2 in my life." Quentin gave him an incredulous look.  He never knew that; just that Bass liked marathoning scary movies on a whim, though mostly in October. Treble had to hide a tiny smile.  He remembers one of those. What was it about? signed Fade. "They say its a building where you can see the dead in." The 4 of them looked at her with varying degrees of belief.  She looked at them and shook her hands at them.  "I don't really believe in that stuff!  I just heard about it.  One of those, I heard from my friend's sister aunt's nephew's boss kinda thing." Treble rolled his eyes.  "Well, then why do you look so concerned, if you don't believe in that." "Well, I wouldn'tve normally.  But....well, I think I heard Cash and Moebius also talking about it when I went to see the boss.  Like, I didn't think they knew I was there until I came around the corner.  I mean, Cash, I dunno, but you know Mo.  They're pretty clinical and stuff.  Not superstitious.  But they were talking about why people might see the dead.  I dunno.  I don't understand that psych stuff, they're hella advanced." "They were talking about it?" asked Treble, seriously. "Apparently the boss had a friend who went through it.  I mean that could be anyone....but...I dunno.  I mean if he was talking to Mo about it, maybe its serious?" There was a small silence, then Bass clapped a hand on her shoulder.  He smiled gently. "Let's go ghost hunting, shall we?"

~~

By dividing and conquering, the 5 spread out to each of their respective branches, hitting the streets, the internet, and other members of the Gemini Network.  Bass easily gained information while Treble stuck to researching with Fade online.  Quentin tried Mo. Moebius was having tea when he entered but the psychologist was rather evasive to him. "C'mon, at least throw me something," he said. Moebius had a face of mild dismissal.  "Confidentiality." Quentin tried his little pout. "You're cute, Seek, but I'm afraid I can't do anything for you."  Sipping tea, the young psychologist then sighed.  "You didn't hear it from me." Quentin nodded. "Django."   He was mulling that over when they met back up a few hours later. Treble and Fade were able to pinpoint a location somewhat: based on the eyewitness reports they were lucky it was within the city.  Moreover, the recent rumors about it were relatively new, perhaps only starting in the last year or so.  According to Bass' sources, it was an obscure test of courage, at least now that it was beginning to gain traction.  Quentin waited until everyone had gone and simply reported back what he heard from Mo. "Django." Bass' and Treble's eyes sparked in sudden interest.   "He knows?" "He's been.  At least I think that's what Mo meant.  She wasn't exactly the most enlightening, since it was confidential between her and I presume Di--er, Pollex."  He was still getting used to the boss' "real" name these days. Bass glanced at his partner.  "Maybe we should check it out.  I mean...if the old man's ok, I mean." "I'm sure he is.  I'd have heard something, or even Quentin," Balance said. Bass was looking at Treble now.  "Well?  Whatcha think, Treb?" Treble was quiet a long while, his deep blue eyes in calm, but deep, thought. "Let's go check it out.  Just in case."

~~

It was part of the abandoned parts of Staten Island, parts of the city that hadn't been rebuilt in decades, looking like a place most filmmakers go to film their post-apocalypse short films.  In one of the condemned areas of a neighborhood there was a duplex that matched the descriptions.  It had once been teal colored, but the paint was faded and peeling.  Many of the windows and doors were boarded up, and covered in graffiti.  Most of it was the usual gang tags, but a few were more cryptic.  Crude spray painted tombstones and doors across the walls and boarded windows. What do you A pair of painted eyes replaced the word "see". Who are you looking for A few arrows painted on the front, dead lawn and sidewalk, all lead to the front door.  The boards had been pried off, and were leaning against it, so it wasn't hard to get inside. Bass, Treble and Quentin all were wearing the back units, but opted instead for the visor headsets rather than the helmets.  Treble wanted a wider field of vision than the helmets would afford, and forwent the extra armor for the ability to see clearly.  Balance was armed with a handgun (as were Quentin and Treble), but Fade only brought her tablet, though in her backpack was a wireless harddrive set that could continually "talk" to the boys' units.  It wasn't ideal, but Treble reasoned that perhaps it was merely rumor that was more dangerous than anything factual. "You don't believe we'll see dead people in there?" asked Balance, a little unsure.   "I don't believe we'll see ghosts," Treble replied, as they inspected the outside. "A dead bum on the other hand..." Bass said, probably a bit too blithely than he should have. "That's not funny!" Balance and Fade said/signed at the same time, and Quentin was also a part of that chorus. Bass gave them a silly look but Treble nudged him sharply and rolled his eyes.   They made note of the exterior, which didn't seem to have been disturbed or lived in for years.  Quentin gingerly inspected the boarded windows with a light, expecting something to be looking at him. Fade was tracking anything she could with her tablet, moving towards the front with Balance as the boys inspected the grounds slowly. "Don't think anyone's been here except thrill seekers," Bass commented as he toed aside an empty beer bottle. "I don't understand," Treble said quietly.  It made Quentin and Bass pause to look at him. "What?" asked the redhead. "A test of courage like that....like....  I don't understand why anyone would want to do something dangerous just for a thrill." Quentin considered that, but Bass looked up at the house thoughtfully. "Its what make some people feel alive I guess," the blonde said.  He put his thumbs in his pockets and cocked his head.  "Like easies....or riding roller coasters, or even doing drugs....  Some people just can't get the juice outta life till they squeeze the really dangerous stuff, you know?" Treble was quiet a long time.  Then, "I know....  But sometimes I wonder...maybe they do that because they're emptier of the things that would normally make them feel alive." Quentin watched them both.  There were times he could sit and listen to Treble and Bass talk and feel like they shut out the rest of the world while they did.  Sometimes it was because they were so into something they just plumb forgot about everyone else.   Times like this, he felt invisible because he knew they were trying to do something on a deeper level.  Get into each other's heads.  It wasn't as uncomfortable as it used to be, he admitted. Before he could add to it, they heard the sound of wood falling down.  Immediately, Treble and Quentin took point back to the front of the house as Bass followed up.   Then something took his attention.  He slowed as the 2 disappeared around the corner.  An unshakable feeling in the pit of his stomach, blossoming.  He looked around for the source, but didn't see anything immediate.  Still it was a gut feeling, like a slow wave of nausea building.  He'd felt it once or twice before, but this was more subtle than he was used to. "The fuck....?"  Instead of following his partner and Quentin, he activated his visor and started a scanning program. Treble and Quentin came to the front door where the boards had been moved aside, some had slipped to the ground with a clatter, which is what the boys heard earlier.  There were no signs of the girls. "Shit, you think they went in??" Quentin asked. Treble inspected the entrance, where wood, debris, and even broken furniture had been blocking the foyer inside.  He could see the telltale prints of sneakers on the thick layer of dust on the debris. "Unfortunately, most certainly."

~~

Balance, while the boys had been in the back, peeked into the front door, scanning for anything.  She turned on her flashlight and peered into the dusty darkness. Fade was behind her, peering in with apprehension. "I don't see much," she said, as she straightened up and started to move some of the wood blocking the way. Fade caught her elbow and shook her head, pointing towards the back.  Let's wait for them, she seemed to say with her yellow green eyes.  They looked a little scared. "I just wanna look in the entrance."  She managed to make a space for her to enter the foyer a bit of the way.  Even with the sun trying to push its way in, it was still unimaginably dim.  She climbed over a broken chest of drawers and part of a dining room chair set as she followed the front door hall.  She was a yard or so in when she pointed her flashlight down the hall and gasped. The hallway walls and floor and ceiling were covered in writing.  It wasn't anything vulgar, obscene or even horrifying.  They had writing, long passages from something she'd longed to read with her own eyes.  Every so often was a signature she'd only seen in blurry internet photographs when she'd gone hunting for them. Trancer 9 Like handwritten scripture on the walls of the duplex were the very passages written in a book rumored to have been lost in the fabled City of Lyrics.  The answers to all her questions for the future of music, the very weapon the rebel networks needed to tear down the Music Corps.  Here, on these walls, like a siren song.  Abandoning Fade, she quickly began to follow the lyrics, the words and passages further into the house. Fade, hearing Balance move away from her, began to panic.  She pounded and smacked at the boards, trying to call her back, but her friend was already moving away, as if in a trance.  Nausea and a small headache had started to build in her, and she quickly turned, thinking she would get the boys to come back.  On the other hand, there was no telling if they were alone in the house.  What if something or someone came for her? Without another thought, Fade quickly scrambled after Balance, kicking over and off the boards and dilapidated furniture to follow her, despite her feelings of sick and dread.  Her own small flashlight barely gave her much light to see, so she used her tablet as a light as she made her way into the hall, and then into what looked to be a living area.  The walls were full of graffiti, holes from vandals or just chipping and peeling paint and wallpaper.  There wasn't a sign of Balance in this room. She was about to head back out to get help when she heard a thump in the next room, probably a hallway or even the kitchen.  She froze, straining her ears, but heard nothing more than her heartbeat, and the silence making the barest of hums, like a slow fan turning.   Not hearing anything else, she cautiously made her way to the hall and looked towards the kitchen.  Nothing. The hall to what she assumed were bedrooms were also dark and empty.  How far did Balance run off to? She turned to the hallway and saw someone standing in it.  She opened her mouth in a silent scream, but the figure only stood and watched her.  With the sun streaming in behind them, it was hard to make them out.  Her body was completely frozen in fear until the figure began to move towards her.  When it was close enough, she could see, amid the backlighting and the haze of dust, it was Treble.   Tearfully she threw herself into his arms, where she sobbed silently, trying to calm down enough to tell him what happened.  His arms closed around her and she felt one of his hands run through her hair softly.  As she caught her breath, she looked up and was about to sign to him what had happened when she froze again, this time in shock. It wasn't Treble anymore. It was Angelo.

~~

Bass came around the corner as Treble was moving aside larger pieces of debris with Quentin hurridly.  "Guys, you gotta hear this."  He was attempting to link what he was tracking to them when he finally noticed what they were doing.  "Whoa.  What happened?" "The girls went inside by themselves," Quentin said, his voice tinged with a little panic. Bass quickly went to the open doorway and peered in.  "Jesus.  Why??" "I have no clue why they would go in by themselves."  Treble unholstered his gun and was about to go in when Bass caught his arm.   "Maybe its this."  He pointed to his visor, so he nodded once and activated his, and Quentin did the same.  Bass shared his headphone input he was receiving.  It was a low hum, and by the look of their HUD sensors, it was unmistakably infrasound.  "Something just started the infra broadcast.  I can't pinpoint all the speakers, but I know they're in there.  Maybe they went in to check it out." Treble glanced at his open texting windows and they were blank.  "If Fade had noticed them, she'd have told us." Bass chewed his bottom lip, and Quentin let out a frustrated exhalation.   "Let's not waste time, let's go get them and get them back out."  Treble led them in, and looked around.  The hallway, and kitchen areas were empty.  Bass took note of the increasing level of infrasound on his visor, but swept the area with his eyes. "Split up?" asked Quentin. "Shit, doncha watch horror movies?" snapped Bass. Treble was moving down to a hall and found a bedroom, where he found Fade collapsed.  Quickly he was gently checking her for injury before moving her too much.  The blonde and redhead were right next behind. "Is she all right?" asked the younger Trancer as Treble gently pulled her into his lap as he checked her. "No, she has a left too," quipped Bass, though his tone wasn't at all joking. Quentin, irritated, snapped, "Damn it, Bass, now's not the time!" Treble shushed them both, but his own unease and irritation was growing as well; perhaps the infrasound was beginning to take its toll.  "She's passed out, but I think she's ok." Instead of coming to, as Treble gently shook her to wake her, she only wordlessly mouthed something over and over. "What's she..." asked Bass, uneasy. Treble paused, watching her, and then, "....I think...its....'Angelo'." Bass started at him as he pushed past Quentin, to kneel at his side.  "Are you sure?" "I know how to read lips.  I'm positive now." The blonde watched her as her half opened, yellow green eyes blankly stared at something far away.  It did seem like she was mouthing those syllables. "Why's she doing that?  He's...."  Bass shook her her a little more forcefully.  "Hey.  Fade.  Come on, babygirl, wake up." Unresponsive, she only lay limply in Treble's arms.  Bass exhaled, and turned to Quentin.  "Hey Quent, can you--" The redhead wasn't anywhere to be seen.

~~

Quentin heard someone calling his name, so he turned to look down the hall as Treble and Bass tried to rouse the poor collapsed girl.  Finding no one in the hall, he went towards the kitchen, following the sound towards the foyer as it led him towards the stairs to the second level.  At the top of the hall was a figure. "The fuck are you?" he asked, drawing his gun.  The figure didn't speak, only moving towards the rooms upstairs, and against his better judgement, Quentin ascended the stairs to follow it.  It wasn't until he followed it to a bedroom and it stopped that he got a better look at it in the dim light coming from the single unboarded window in the staircase hall. They were wearing a Corps suit, with a blue armband with Trancer 0004.  Rust red hair.  Deep green eyes.  Small creases near his mouth and eyes, portraying graceful age.  Quentin nearly dropped his gun. ".....Father....?" HIs father only gave him a small smile.  "My little suzerain...." Quentin shook, as his hands slowly pulled the headphone visor off his face.  "You're...you're not dead....what are you doing here?!"

~~

Bass lifted Fade and Treble followed him back out, as the sun was beginning its climb down the sky.  They had a few hours left before sunset, but it wasn't prudent to push their luck.  Not at this stage. He leaned her against the house in the backyard, and looked up at Treble.  "I don't wanna leave her here by herself." "I'll go back in for them," Treble said as he checked the gun and activated his visor again.   "I don't want you to go in by yourself either." "We don't have a choice.  I don't want her by herself while we're inside.  That may be what they want.  Whoever they are." He exhaled.  "I know but...." Treble reached over and gave his hand a squeeze.  "I'll be careful."  He started back around the house, and Bass decided to make himself useful while standing watch.  He linked up with Fade's tablet and the harddrive, trying to sort out the data he was finding, trying to find a source.  Damned if he wasn't going to try finding the source of the mystery. Treble reentered the house and listened.  He could almost hear that droning, the infrasound that was making them all irritable and sick.  Still, that couldn't be all that was happening.  He was sure he heard voices; Quentin?  Balance?  Someone else?  On a hunch, he started up the stairs when he heard Quentin talking to someone.  He paused, straining his ears, but couldn't hear anyone else. Was he talking to himself?  He frowned.  Infrasound doesn't usually make people talk to themselves.  It merely made them sick, anxious.  Slowly, as silently as he could, he climbed each stair with deliberate slowness.  He couldn't hear the conversation yet but it sounded one-sided. "N...no....  I...I can't.  I can't...go back...." Treble reached the landing, then he heard another sound, a loud thump as if someone had fallen onto the floor.  Still, Quentin continued to speak. It obviously wasn't him. "I....  I want to.  I want to so bad....but I'll be...."  There was a pause, as if someone was talking to him, and yet the TC still couldn't hear them.  Was it possible they were signing to him? The thump had come from another room, and the raven-haired man made the decision to check that first; Quentin was obviously conscious.  Maybe in danger, but not so far.  It was possible that what Treble heard was Balance, and she could need the help more than he.  He found an open bathroom where a light was coming from, floor level, and quickly peeked in. Balance was on the ground, her flashlight on the floor.  He checked the hall, listened for Quentin, then quickly checked on her.  She was breathing, didn't seem to have hurt herself badly, and seemed to also be in the same, half-lidded trance as Fade had been.  He was about to pick her up when he heard the barest sounds of music.  He thought it was being patched from Bass, but it wasn't, through that channel.  He removed one headphone to get a better bead on it. That's when he heard the sound of Quentin hitting the ground in the next room.

~~

Quentin's hands were trembling uncontrollably.  HIs father was supposed to be in Paris.  Why or how was he here?  Of all places, the middle of nowhere, in a supposedly haunted house? And his father wasn't even dead.  As far as he knew, his father was a live and well. "Father, what are you doing here?!" he asked, hoarsely. "I've come to take you home."  His father sat on a dusty table and gave him a gentle look. The redhead fumbled for words.  "Go back...home?  I can't go back!  I'm....Father, I've....I've defected!"  The magnitude of the word slams into him hard, saying it out loud makes the last few months now startlingly real.  After the Sound Tower, he was effectively a dead man.  His father of all people should know that. "Oh son....that won't matter.  Come back home.  I'll take care of everything for you.  You'll never have to worry again." "N...no....  I...I can't.  I can't...go back...."  He shook his head, trying to clear it, but it only became more muddy and foggy.  As small tinny in his ears began, as if there was the sound of a song far, far away, on a radio, barely picking up the signal. "Of course you can, suzerain.  I'll make sure of that." "I....  I want to.  I want to so bad....but I'll be...."   "Nothing is going to happen to you.  I promise.  You'll never have to worry about a single thing anymore." There was a throbbing ache in Quentin's chest.  The thought of going back to the way things were before the tower.  The freedom to play music again, the way he was trained.  The release of all the sleepless nights, never knowing when the Corps would catch up. If...if his father could manage it.... If he could go back to the way things used to be.... His ears were ringing, filling with the deep sounds of music, and his longing was so painful and powerful, he barely registered it.   Where...is that music....coming from....? Quentin dropped to his knees, then to his side, slipping away into the eternal moment of an endless possibility.

~~

Treble could hear it plainly.  It was a gentle ocean of music, so soft he could barely hear it.  He removed his headphones to get a better listen, slowly getting to his feet. He knew it as soon as he could clearly hear it. Ambient. Dealers on the street called it Ambi for short, an offshoot of 303, or Acid.  Insidious stuff, one doesn't understand what's quite happening until its too late.  Once the listener drops into Loss--the feeling nearly all musicians and listeners alike feel when listening to music, where the world can be shut out, and the mind opens into mild suggestion and pacification--the mind picks up and takes over, often inducing visions or hallucinations in the listener.  Acid often delivers highs that the mind quickly finds addictive, causing the abuser to constantly feed their addiction by listening constantly to it, forgoing all necessary functions of life until brain death. Ambi on the other hand is mostly unpredictable, causing hallucinations and visions that one can't tell if they're real or not.  Instead of cutting off the world like 303 might, Ambi augments it, adding to the world the listener still occupies, so that they can't separate illusion from reality.  While it normally lacks the addictive nature of Acid, Ambi still claims its victims every year through manipulation and misuse.  There was a reason it was banned and outlawed, with many Trancers in the Corps being unauthorized to even sample or use it without special granted access. Somehow, amid the infrasound jacking, someone had inserted Ambi into the broadcast.  That was why Quentin had been talking to himself, or Balance had run off, or Fade was lapsed into her litany of her dead fiancee's name. Treble got to his feet and made his way to the hallway to the stairs.  He had to tell Bass.  If they could interrupt the jacking, they could conceivably break the spell over the house, and maybe find the culprit.  He paused at the landing, as the music was now audible enough for him to catch it without having to strain his ears.  With the layer of infrasound, it made for an uncomfortable feeling of nausea and anxiety amid his determination.  Putting a hand to his face and shutting his eyes, he tried to clear his head. Too late, a voice in his head scolded, You idiot!  Put your headphones back on!  You're falling in! That's when he felt arms around himself, warm and comforting.  His instincts, still sharp amid the dulling senses, made him tear himself away and reached for his gun reflexively. Bass was behind him, his eyes puzzled.  Treble let out a sigh of relief. "Damn it, Bass.  You scared the hell out of me."  He shook his head, and reached for his headphones he dropped.  "Bass, we need to get Quent and Balance out.  This place is being pumped full of Ambi." Instead of saying anything, Bass reached for Treble and, with firm force, pushed him to the wall, pinning him.  In shock, his partner looked at him incredulously. "The hell are you doing?!" he cried before his partner leaned in and started to lap hungrily at his neck.  In spite of the situation, the raven-haired TC let out a thin groan before trying to escape.  "Nnn...B-Bass, stop...." But Bass only continued, his hands groping around but still keeping his partner against the wall as he chained kisses from his neck to his ear, then to his mouth where he deepened the kiss.  His tongue darted against Treble's, hot and forceful.  He moaned, trying to protest, but they were drowned out by his partner's lust as they slid to the floor.   Counterpoint to his partner's assault, the music continued as Treble struggled both to throw him off, but also struggling to not fall under that same spell.  He groaned as Bass ground himself against them, trapping Treble as he writhed and tried to rise off the ground. "Stop...!  Bass!  Stop...!  Its the...its the music!  Try to....try to fight it!" He was quickly losing his battle as he found himself returning the kisses and lustful moaning, and just before he became overwhelmed, he had a sinking, terrible thought: This...this isn't Bass....  This...this is me....  I'm....I'm.... He let out one more whimper before shutting his eyes and allowing it to take him over. I'M the one who's under the music.

~~

Bass, after a few minutes, found the source of the infrasound, and tried to isolate the channel.  He frowned as he saw more layers to the audio data flow than he expected.  There was more than the base noise he could feel and hear.  He spent some time tuning it, unpacking it until he found an audio channel and he isolated it further and amplified it. He immediately regretted it.  He knew the type of music within seconds, and he quickly got to his feet.  He made an aching decision and quickly left Fade in the corner and entered the house.  He pulled his own headphones off to hear better, and just above that barely imperceptible hum, he could hear it.  Ambient, and it was in the house.  It wasn't obvious until he reached the stairs and heard a soft groaning. He quickly climbed the stairs and found Treble, on his side in the hallway, trembling, his sapphire colored eyes half open and glazed over, his alabaster skin flushed pink.  He knelt down and touched his partner's shoulder, and he groaned lustfully, softly.   He shut his eyes briefly, calmly listening, then he slid his headphones on, and using Fade's tablet, started to trace the signal.  Outside it was hard to get a bead on it, but inside was a different story.  Almost immediately, the visor began to pick up all the speaker sensors, and he followed them to the back bedroom of the duplex, where it was shut and boarded up.  The boards looked newer, the nails were still slightly shiny, so he found a sturdy chair and began breaking the door down.  It took awhile, but he gained entry into the abandoned room.  A single computer machine was in the back, near the back window, and it was on.  He checked the screen, where a program was running.  Speaker setups were shown to be in every corner of the room.  An infrared sensor was at the entrance of the downstairs foyer, and when tripped, would activate the entire system for just about 48 hours, before shutting down into sleep mode for the next trigger. Bass reached over and yanked as many cords as he could out from the back of the computer.  He checked an impulse to pick up the devil machine and throw it out the window or to the floor.  They would need to investigate it further, of course.  The sounds gone, it was like a weight immediately listed off his shoulders.  He sighed in relief, and leaned against the wall as his thoughts started to collect like rain in a dish left outside in a storm. After a few minutes, he  picked up the keyboard and slammed it repeatedly against the floor, trying to rid himself the the anger he was now feeling.  The betrayal of music.  The mishandling of the art.  The wretched feeling of having someone be taken advantage of. Bass clenched his fists in anger.  How dare they.  How DARE they do this to his friends.  To HIS Treble. He heard someone come in, but he didn't turn around.  He was too angry. He felt Treble wrap his arms around him.  The anger began to evaporate like dew off the grass in the morning. "Let's go home," Treble said quietly.

~~

"I....I didn't know Ambi could do that," Balance said as they debriefed with Pollex, Moebius, and Django on a video call.  Irate at their impromptu investigation, Pollex had to forgive them quickly when they were able to bring back the machine for analysis.  He began to regret giving the EQ unit the autonomy he had, though he couldn't argue with the results.  And in any case, it seemed like Django was additionally grateful. Moebius, dressed in a lazy japanese gakuen style uniform, nodded.  The psychologist conveniently left out her little lead she gave to Quentin, and no one brought it up, thankfully.  "Ambient's pretty potent stuff in the right Trancer hands.  It makes some pretty convincing hallucinations.  Anyone with any sense of Loss is at its mercy, and when it gets combined with some 303 elements, you've got some serious recipes for disaster.  More so with the layer of infrasound." "That was part of why it was so diabolical," Bass replied.  "The infra layer was pretty strong.  It masked the audio layers until I was able to rip and isolate.  That shit ain't kids play; that's some next level mind control shit with the right mix." "If we get a hit on the machine, we'll let you know," Pollex said to Django whom tipped his hat to them. "I'm grateful to you guys," he said.  "Still....don't make it a habit." "They won't," Pollex said, icily, giving them a look.  The 5 responded with varying degrees of shame, from Balance and Quentin with the most, and amusingly Bass with the least.  He ended the call and waved them off.  "You're dismissed....but don't let me catch you doing that kind of stunt again." They filed out of his room as Mo followed them out.  They were on their way back to one of the music practice rooms when Mo piped up. "Actually...if you don't mind me asking....what DID you guys see when you were under Ambi?" Treble simply flushed and glanced to the side as they sat down around the various instruments, himself and Fade at a piano bench, Quentin and Balance on chairs by the guitar rack and Bass, predictably, on the floor, already lighting up. Fade hesitantly signed, I....I saw my late fiancee. Mo gave her a look of sympathy and nodded.  "I'm sorry, sweetie." It looked like Treble at first though.  She flushed a bit and looked at him, and he gave her a questioning look back. "Hmm.  Par for course, I hear.  They can make hallucinations change, depending on mindset." Balance spoke up.  "I...I saw the Book of Trancer 9."  Quentin and Fade looked confused.  "Its...something I've been looking for....it was on all the walls, like writing and stuff...."  She cast her eyes away, embarrassed.  "Never mind...I guess its hard to explain." "You didn't see anyone deceased?" asked Moebius, interested. "No.  I wonder why." "I didn't either..." Quentin said softly.  He was looking at his hands.  "I saw my father.  But he's alive.  And he told me...he wanted me to come back to the Corps." Treble considered that; it made sense for his responses he remembered.   "That's interesting.  Only one person saw the dead." Treble didn't say anything.  The only person he told was Bass, and he was disgusted with himself.  That he had allowed himself to fall under so easily. Bass watched his partner and sighed.  "It would make sense then...for what everyone saw.  The file name for the audio was 'desire'." Mo looked particularly interested.  "Oh so?  Maybe that's why everything was so...varied with you guys.  I mean, I know some people see deceased loved ones, according to the rumors.  Most everyone does.  I guess if they heard the rumors, their inner desires would manifest illusions of their dead loved ones.  On the other hand, yours all seem to...tie into your deeper desires.  I assume."  She gave a quick pointed look at Treble, whom evaded the look by setting himself at the piano and beginning to play.  She gave him a disgruntled look of disappointment then stood up.  "Well, if you guys wanna unpack it, you know where to find me."  She headed for the door, and Bass followed her out.  She looked to Bass, as he was heading down the corridor towards the drink vending machine.  As he fed the machine his card, she poked him on the arm. "What about you, candycons?" Bass shrugged.  "I didn't see anything actually." She blinked.  "Really?" "I don't Loss.  So Ambi doesn't work on me.  It never has." She was quiet a long time.  Then, "What about your Acid reaction?" He was also quiet a long time, sipping his bottle of water as his deep black eyes stared off onto some unseen point. "Acid's different.  You said it yourself.  Rejection Fallout.  I'm having an allergic reaction to the music....not falling under its Loss.  Or whatever." They were silent in the hallway a long time.  Moebius sighed, then gave him a reassuring ruffle to his hair. "You're lucky you're Lossless.  That's a really rare quality."  She started down the hall, and was around the corner before Bass also sighed. He leaned his head against the wall and looked at the ceiling with a look of unease.  "I have loss in other ways, sweetheart.  And I'd never call it a good trade off."

[humanscandrivestick]

E.Q.--The Lift

I KNOW I KNOW.  BUT BREATH OF THE WILD, THEN MARIO KART, THEN SPLATOON.  Or, more seriously, trying not to lose my mind at work, and then rasing a puppy for the first time in 8 years.  Both can contribute to hiatuses, but far be it from me to pull a Togashi. @_@ I apologize for the giant gaps but I did want to make this story polished as best I can.  Its a pivotal part in Arpeggio and Felipe’s relationship.  

So without further ado, the infamous lift incident that brought 2 Trancers closer together, or teeters on the rbink of pulling them apart (oh who am I kidding, we all know how Side A turns out XD)

~~~~

Felipe made an off-handed comment that gently set a ball rolling, so unnoticed and gentle that it was already running without control by the time he'd noticed.  He'd good-naturedly poked Arpeggio in the side one sweltering Chicago day. "Gaining a little weight lately?"  He gave him a sheepish smile afterwards, in apology for the bluntness. Arpeggio glanced at himself and shrugged.  "Perhaps lately.  I've been really slacking in exercise lately, what with all the work we've had." "Well, the recent busts have been good cardio," laughed Felipe.  He pinched his stomach a little.  "To be honest, maybe I'm projecting...I've been gaining some stomach lately too." "It happens when you sleep in and eat nothing but junk," his partner replied, giving him a short side-long glance, the TC version of a smirk. "We have a gym, don't we?  Might as well start using it."  Felipe thumped him on the back lightly.  "How 'bout after work tonight?  Its 24 hour, so even if we're in til 11, we can try and it'll be prolly empty too." Arpeggio blinked and shrugged.  "I...suppose so, but I don't have any work out clothing." Felipe nudged him jokingly.  "What, you can borrow mine.  We're still the same size....at least til I started getting fatty."  He laughed again. It was nearly 10 before the boys were able to clock out.  Arpeggio, mulling over the workout plans, ended up taking a lunch break and going out to buy some rash guard shirts and workout shorts.  Felipe had bought him a pair of high top white Converse sneakers, so as new as they were, he didn't think he'd need the running shoes.  Since finishing his Rothbart and TC training, he hadn't bought new clothing for gym in ages.  When he and Felipe headed to the gym, Felipe split off to grab something to wear while he got dressed.  He switched to his eyeglasses, removing his contacts, and slipped on a dark, sapphire blue, short-sleeved rash guard, white basketball shorts with a single black line down the side of the legs and long white socks with the cream colored chucks tied in neat bows. He was on the treadmill, in the empty gym--of course, it was nearly 11:30 by now--jogging when Felipe entered.  A thin red pullover hoodie, black shorts, rolled down white socks and a pair of black high top chucks he'd purchased while they were in England.  He took his place next to him on an adjoining treadmill.  Arpeggio kept a brisk pace, occasionally breaking into a sprint as the machine was programmed to increase his pace.  Felipe, unaccustomed to regular exercise, stuck to light jogs mixed with power walking.  He intended to go for at least 30 minutes, but his cardio was seriously lacking, and needed to take it more easier.   He watched Arpeggio from the corner of his vision, catching himself gazing down from his toned legs up to to his chest and then the neckline.  With those glasses, he was kinda....cute.  Felipe started, internally.  When did he start thinking this way?  From their rocky start to now, from those angry 14 years to the easy going friendship at 19, Felipe had started to realize his partner wasn't the tight leash he expected all those years ago.  If anything, it was more like a shadow, a mirror image, opposites that match up to make a whole. But now there was something else about him that he realized was more than friendship or admiration. Lost in these thoughts, both boys finished their workout.  Arpeggio was seeing that halfway through exercising, that Felipe was now distant, distracted.  He tried making small talk as they walked to the elevator, the old rickety lift that was in the back of the apartment building, where few people used it this late at night. As he pushed the call button, Arpeggio, slightly frustrated with his partner's lack of focus, said, "FELIPE."  It was firm but not angry. Rousted from his thoughts, he looked up.  "Uh...yeah?  What?" "What's the matter, Felipe?  You...haven't been listening to a word I've said." The doors finally opened and they stepped in.  "Uh...sorry, I'm....kinda thinking." Arpeggio sighed and leaned against the corner as the door hung open for an inordinate amount of time before closing.  The car made its slow ascent up as Felipe's eyes kept flicking to Arpeggio.  The cute nose, those blue eyes behind the square rimmed glasses.  The now slightly out of place hair, that flared like crows's feathers with a deep black. Something in Felipe cracked.  When they hit the 3rd floor, 2 floors from their apartment, he reached to the panel and hit the emergency stop.  Arpeggio, standing next to it, gave him a puzzled look. "So.  .....You just....did that." he said, his voice with little emotion except mild curiosity.  The glasses hang on the edge of his nose, right where it kinda turns up a little.  Felipe had always thought it was a cute kind of nose.  But for the first time, he's seeing something attractive…in him. The restraint in him finally snapped.  He turned to his partner, and pushed him against the side of the elevator, trapping him.  His hands were on his arms, just above the elbows; their chests against each other, feet fumbling over each others, trying not to trip.  Even as he was asking, Felipe cut him off with a kiss on the mouth.  Firmly covering Arpeggio's with his, muffling the protests, swallowing his voice down, Felipe kept at it.  When he finally pulled back for air, he leaned his weight against him.   Arpeggio's eyes were more animated, still curious, and not as shocked or repulsed as Felipe initially assumed.  There was a fleeting look that he couldn't catch.  Something unfamiliar. Jesus, he thought, they're so damn....blue.....they're so.... Arpeggio started to catch his breath, and a trembling began in the tips of his fingertips.  He was also shocked at his lack of repulsion, as if there was a gentle pull between them both.  The pieces start falling into place; the furtive glances Felipe had been giving him lately, most obviously today at the gym. Jesus.  That can't mean-- Felipe went back in for the kill again, and Arpeggio didn't have the time to process it.  Resuming, Felipe pushed his tongue into his partner's mouth.  Now, they both know he lacked a proper sense of smell.  He could taste, though Felipe had grown used to the fact what he might be tasting is severely weaker than others', and what he tasted was....nothing more than what he can describe as "Arpeggio".  It was warm, but sharp.  Comforting. He wanted more. Arpeggio clumsily followed his lead, nudging his partner's tongue, giving into the warmth.  Arpeggio tasted tobacco, and while he had really never smoked, he wasn't put off by the taste.  It was sweeter than he imagined.  Like tobacco with sugar.  His blue eyes shut as the heat of their bodies started to warm the tiny elevator.  The tiniest of groans escapes from his throat.  He felt a hot tongue run along his neck, up to his earlobe.   His voice whimpered out,in a low purr.   "Felipe…." The cerise-haired young man barely heard it.  His mouth was too busy tasting everything he could.  He could feel Arpeggio's heartbeat in his skin through his lips, and it felt great. The raven-haired boy began trembling uncontrollably, but Felipe gave him a bit of room and groaned back.  "Come on." "Come on what," he whispered, puzzled as his eyes open to look down at him. "Like this," the cerise-haired boy said before deepening a kiss.  The firm yet tender pressure with his lips, slightly sucking on his bottom lip before he let it go.  The way the tongue darts between his lips was coaxing.  Arpeggio, still reeling in the moment and unsure of what he's supposed to do except process these new sensations, could only imitate what Felipe is doing.   He tried to copy the movements, but eventually he felt Felipe pull back. "Haven't you ever done this?" he asked in a slightly frustrated tone.  His eyes appeared disheartened, as if he's expected Arpeggio to react similarly; there was a disappointment in his voice that Arpeggio completely could not understand. "No…." he whispered shaking his head.  They've slid down the side of the elevator, sitting on the ground, Arpeggio in the corner, his legs bent against Felipe. Felipe paused.  Looking into those deep blue eyes, where he usually saw sternness or placid indifference was an intense look.  Somewhere between curiosity and also frustration.  Again, he was struck by the color.  Like glowing sapphire, blue fire.  The deep ocean or the deepest blue in the sky. Arpeggio is similarly entranced.  He always assumed Felipe's eyes were just a deep brown, but this close, he can see that they literally are black.  Like the night sky with no stars.  They pull, and absorb light, a deep black hole that pulled him in.  A deep color that made his pupils seem lighter by comparison.  But they aren't cold; if anything they feel warm and enveloping like a song. Lost in each other's eyes, the silence eventually melted.   "Son of a bitch," replied Felipe, as if someone has told him the scores to a sports game and he's taken aback.  He was red in the face, but so was Arpeggio, but its more noticeable because the TC's skin is so damned light anyway, and its cute Felipe admitted.  "Not even…?" Arpeggio can't figure out what Felipe meant until he followed his eye line.  The magenta haired boy was nodding at his crotch.  The TC couldn't help but flush even harder, so much that even Felipe could feel the heat. "No..." one simple word, but the slight shame and embarrassment it conveyed was practically palpable.  He was aware of the practice at least, but it was clear he'd not indulged what urges he may have had before. At this point, the black-eyed boy flushed too, then leaned in, and kissed him again.  Something about Arpeggio's inexperience made him want him even more.  But the kiss was subtly different to Arpeggio.  Tenderer.  Gentler.  There was an obvious lust but it had a different intensity.   It wasn't until the magenta boy's hands released his, and they began roving over his body, that Arpeggio realized Felipe was holding his hands, gently. Felipe could barely keep his desire in check.  The urgency he had now evolved into something more.  He no longer wanted to conquer his prey.  He now wanted to take, taste, feel everything he had in his hands, slowly, savoring it like the last piece of hard candy in the bowl.  Time let Felipe go, releasing him from the chains of urgency.   Now Time gave him the freedom to make this moment endless. His fingers pressed into his skin, the taut give of his flesh felt like the strings of an instrument.  From his back to his firm ass, his thighs, he ran his fingers along his body, down the knee to ankle, then all the way back up.  He could feel his partner want to arch into him, so he pulled him into an embrace again, nuzzling the nap his his neck and feeling his body arch, tremble and squirm.  Arpeggio dug his fingers into Felipe's back.   He responded with more laps and nips on the neck and lips, then his hands drifted down his chest, to the hem of his shorts. He felt Arpeggio freeze momentarily when his hands slid over his crotch.  It was obvious his body was responding well, because he was hard and completely so, but his eyes are tinged with confusion and some apprehension.  It tore at Felipe's chest a little, seeing his partner so out of his depth, but being horny was winning out.  He bypassed it momentarily, and slid his hands down the boy's legs.  He squeezed his ankles, feeling his muscles flex and wriggle, and it turned him on even more.   He brought up one of his white sneakered feet and gave him a single lustful glance before taking a long, lap. It was not what Arpeggio is expecting so his foot immediately jerked.  "Wh-what are you doing?!" He nipped the laces and lapped the toecap again.  "Its ok." "B-but…that's really…dirty…."  The toes jerked and twitched in anxiousness, wriggling slowly. Felipe put the foot down and gave his knee a small kiss.  "No...it isn't...." His partner looked confused, so Felipe chained kisses from his knee to his ankle, nipping playfully at the socks, until his ran his tongue over the laces, and gave the toecap a gentle kiss. "Its not dirty at all." "I m-mean...I used them...I've been walking around on...the concrete and stuff...and...." He was babbling, not sure of what he was trying to say. Felipe gave him a small smile.  "Pege...." "Yes...?" "Shut up." Arpeggio gave him a look of sheepish defeat and shrugged.  "F-fair enough.  You're...the teacher." "Straight A student right here."  He gave the toecap a few laps before shifting his position back to his original, holding him as he came back up to kiss him.  This time, his right hand found his partner's left, and his fingers entwined as his pressed it gently to the wall of the elevator car. Arpeggio let his body act on its own, squeeing his hand, digging his fingers into Felipe's lower back and ass, enjoying the muscular feel.  Slowly, he pulled him into his embrace, then maneuvered his legs to pull Felipe into him. The move was so unexpected for Felipe, he nearly collapsed into him.  It was...bold, even for Arpeggio. Hesitation finally made Felipe pause.  This was all so new, especially to Arpeggio.  He could feel that his partner was apprehensive, though not scared.  It made him wonder....how much could he do?  How much was too much?  It wasn't as if Arpeggio had told him no outright, but at the same time, he didn't want to overload him.  This move was the first time that he was now initiating new contact without Felipe guiding him or doing it first.  So that means...that it was ok, wasn't it? When he stopped moving, the raven-haired boy looked at him, and saw the deep look of thought on his face.  He flicked his black eyes towards his partner's blue ones, and as he caught his breath, Felipe could feel his own body begin to tremble, trying to hold the weight of his lust and desire as he processed his next moves. "What...?" he asked him, his hands sliding from the young Trancer's back to shoulders. Felipe couldn't find the words.  Caught between his lust for this quite literally virgin territory and his uncertainty of doing too much, he could only stare back at him. "Are you...afraid...I'll break...?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Felipe blinked at him in shock.  Can...he read minds...? Arpeggio stared up into his eyes for a long moment.  Then he shut his eyes and nodded once. "I...trust you...." Like a key turning a lock, those three words freed Felipe.  He gave him a small smile and nodded back.  "Y...you're sure...?" "If I wasn't....you'd be a dead man."  He said it with his usual deadpan, placid look, that Felipe nearly laughed out loud.  Arpeggio let his eyes soften . Felipe saw the smallest, most sincere smiles come across his face. He has a smile like an angel. "Fel...?" "This...this is....ok....?" Arpeggio blinked at him, confused.  At this point, he assumed his consent was implicit, but he nodded and smiled at him again, and this time, he realized he was.  "Please...Fel....its....  I need...you to...show me...."  He shook his head and flushed in embarrassment.  "I don't...know.  This is all so new to me." He nodded slowly and kissed him tenderly before he slid his hands down to his waist and then gently and slowly pulled down his shorts.  Arpeggio let out a small whimper, and as Felipe hesitated and looked up at him, he nodded again, blushing.  "W-well, come on....like you've...never seen dick before?" Felipe could sense the baiting was done to put them both at ease, so he gave him a slight smirk.  "Not one as exquisite as this." His partner wrinkled his nose.  "Ok I may be new at this, but that was kinda embarrassing, even for you." Felipe awkwardly smiled.  "Yeah...it was kinda bad...but you make me stupid sometimes, being this fucking cute."  He punctuated that by giving the tip of his erect cock a small kiss. The sensation and newness of the entire thing, made Arpeggio give a small cry and arched his back.  "Nnngh...!" Felipe took one of his partner's hands and gave it a squeeze.  "All right there, Pege?"  There was a slightly sassy tone to it. "D-damn it Felipe...if you don't stop taunting me...I may take back what I said about this being ok...!" "Well, then.  Don't say I didn't try easing you into it."  He leaned over and started to lap and suck gently on him, as Arpeggio let out another groan, digging his fingers into Felipe.  The feelings notwithstanding, the sensations were intense.  The warmth of his tongue over him as he sucked, contrasting with the cooler air when he pulled off and lapped and licked, all sent Arpeggio's mind into a tailspin.  It was everything he could do to keep from bucking his hips or squeezing him between his thighs.  The pressure building inside of him escalated quickly. "Fel...!  W-wait...I'm..." Felipe pulled off his a firm but tender suck and glanced up.  "Pege...let me." "I...I don't...Should...." Felipe let him teeter slightly before diving back down and giving him a firm suck as his tongue swirled around his partner's cock.  The hand holding Arpeggio's squeezed, while the other one pressed the fingertips into his thigh. Arpeggio let out another small cry as he climaxed hard, his head leaning back as he arched.  The sensation was so intense, he nearly blacked out.  Felipe pulled back, swallowing some, but allowing some cum to pump over Arpeggio's crotch and thighs, glistening like pearls.  Wiping his face with the back of his hand, he slid the other from his partner's grasp to his face and pulled him into a kiss.  This time, Arpeggio welcomed the gesture, tasting himself in Felipe's mouth.  It wasn't anything he expected.  He groaned, his body weakly holding on in an attempt to stay conscious.   Felipe pulled back to let them each have some air and gazed into his partner's eyes. They locked gazes, the TC's blue in the Trancer's black.  It was the look of concupiscence in Arpeggio's eyes that pulled Felipe quickly into the ground. All at once, the magnitude of what line he had crossed slammed into him.  They have crossed the line into a place he hadn't considered.  Felipe now knew what that feeling had meant for him, that now he had to confront this feeling he hadn't noticed until this moment. That he had fallen in love with Arpeggio....and that this friendship they had now had changed irreversibly.   Had he broken something precious between them now?  Has he dragged someone who could not possibly understand the significance of such an enormous emotion somewhere he hadn't the right to? Before Arpeggio could ask, the sound of the emergency speaker crackled to life.  A sleepy, disinterested voice came over the static. "Hey.  The board said the elevator stopped.  Anyone in there?" Arpeggio felt his body lock into action, the rapture of the moment evaporating as he found his voice.  "Yes.  We're ok.  There's only 2 of us." "Right.  I'll get it moving in a sec."  The speakers cut out, and before Arpeggio, as he quickly pulled his clothes back together, his legs a little shaky as he rose to his feet, could say anything to Felipe, the lift car lurched into action. Sitting on the floor of the car, the magenta haired boy, shook his head to himself. "What have I done?" Felipe asked in a barely audible whisper, his tone now gone from euphoria to misery. "Fel??"  Puzzled, Arpeggio approached him, to help him up, but his partner only shook his arm free, stood up, and when the doors opened, dashed to the hall.  With difficulty, the TC found the strength to chase after him, but Felipe was faster, leaving the door to their apartment open as he sprinted to his room and slammed the door shut. The raven haired boy didn't even bother shutting their door, so he could try to make it to Felipe's room, but the door wouldn't budge.  It felt as if his partner was leaning against the door.  "Felipe!!  Please...!  Fel, open the door!!" Felipe curled his legs against his chest as he sat against it, and started to cry.   Of all the regrets he'd ever made in his life, this one hurt the most, and he wasn't even sure why he had run, or why he felt so bad.  Only that he felt he'd done something so terribly wrong to someone he now loved with his whole heart. For the first time in his life, Felipe was scared that he'd fallen in love with someone.

[humanscandrivestick]

E.Q.--Playing the Games

Yeah, its been months since the last post.  Had a lot of stuff going on recently, especially with work, so I’m trying to get back on the saddle.  I’m gonna try my best to get through Album 3, which is the backstory between Felipe and Arpeggio, from their budding relationship to the incident in Egypt.  Sorry for the delays.  

Meanwhile, Galliard, of Jazzer 10250, decides to get involved with the bar hijinks during championship game season.

~~~~

"You may have fast hands, but I'm choosing the program," said Jazzer 235 as he watched the bartender shuffle.  He was a drummer, whose hands were pretty good for a Jazzer, with speeds a Metal would want.  His opponent, another drummer from another Jazzer, 191, was also flexing his speedy fingers in anticipation. "If you're going to complain, complain to the mess hall bartender for only keeping one tv in this dump." "Or maybe to the networks for scheduling games on the same night."  191's vocalist was watching them with bored eyes.  He wanted to catch a gameshow but was roundly overruled by the few Jazzers in the bar that night for sports games. "This again?" asked the pianist from Jazzer 10250, Galliard, a man of his late 30s.  He often made a stop at the bar with his unit, though they weren't with him this day.  He was leaning over the table, curiously eyeing the cards with bright blue eyes as deck was shuffled.  They each were dealt 5 cards, then 15 in a draw pile next to them.  2 face down cards were put in the center, flanked with a stack of five cards on either side. "This again," came the reply from both players as well as their attached teams.   "Better start soon or the games will start and we'll miss the openings."  Galliard laughed good-naturedly. Both players cracked their knuckles, flexed their fingers then rested their fingers on the 5 cards dealt to them then in a flash swooped them up.  With hand movements so quick, people had problems keeping track--at least those who were unfamiliar with the game)--they began laying their hands own, drawing from their pile, slapping cards down in order up and down the numerical and face card value until one player had exhausted their pool.  Occasionally, when the draw came up with nothing, they would replace from the middle piles.  It was a pretty cut and dry game once one got the hang of it.  And the bar patrons in this district mess hall bar usually played games to decide what program would make it onto the single tv for the night.   Things...got competitive. Galliard watched with amusement until there was a winner, this time 235.  Victory is short lived as a third party, usually the bartender, shuffled; games were best 2 of 3.  The next game was won by 191.  With a tie breaker, Galliard spoke up. "Can I try?" 235 laughed.  "What?  Mate, I've never seen you play cards and you wanna play?" "Indulge me." "We're playing for the tv." "Maybe I wanna watch something."  His blue eyes were lively, as if laughing. "All right.  Play who wins this for the show." So he waited patiently until 191 won.  When both were ready, and after they went over the rules in case Galliard had never played, they began. A sullen bar, excepting 235's vocalist, ended up watching a nature documentary on whales. The next night, Galliard came in without his team again, to a rather heated game of Jenga.  Having never played, he watched with amusement as they kibitzed each other into making the tower of blocks wobble.   "What are we playing for tonight?" "Basketball," said 235. "Baseball," said 191 at the same time. "And you?" asked 8861, a Jazzer from Australia whom was visiting for a training session with Galliard's team for the fortnight. Galliard only beamed and, gathering the gist of the game, said, "I dunno.  May I?" Everyone nodded, as Galliard found a loose block with some difficulty, and the tower swaying like a skyscraper in San Francisco. He set it completely vertically, the narrowest tip of his block precariously balancing on the edge. Galliard and 8861 enjoyed a show on science videos on the internet while the rest of the teams stared at the completely illegal move in awe and sheepish defeat.  Pictures were taken, social media posters were made.  This is not the proper way to play but damn "Science," was the only thing he said as the show started and others resorted to their phones for game scores.  No one was sure whether he meant his show or his ability.

~~

"What in the world is this?" he asked the next night, as the usual crew surrounded around a table this a curious toy barrel, with slotted holes all empty and dotting the barrel exterior, and the competing MC musicians holding plastic sabers. "Lucky Stab," 191 said.  "We're in elimination for the games." "Just started," said 235's drummer. "Its legitimately called 'Lucky Stab'?" he asked with an incredulous look. "In some places yes," 235's vocalist replied, amused. "Can I try?" "Oh hell no," 191 snapped, in a comically irritated manner.  "You'll win." "I've never played, what are the chances I'll even do it?"  Galliard sheepishly smiled.  "What do I do?  Stick a sword in and make it work?" "No, you stick them in so you're not the one that makes the pirate pop out."  235 pointed to the box. "Wait.  There's a pirate in there?"  He curiously peeked into the barrel. "Yeah, like this," 191 poked one of the slotted holes. The pirate popped up and amusedly clattered to the table with a plastic clatter.   There was a pregnant silence. "That...doesn't count...does it?" asked 191. "Yeah it does," chorused the crowd.  They were all rather bitter at their own elimination earlier. "FUCK." With a triumphant chuckle, 235 handed the toy to someone for reset and when it was done, handed a few sabers to Galliard.  "Wanna try?  Winner gets the game or...whatever else you wanna watch." "There's a kaiju film marathon on the Japanese film channel if that's fine with anyone." "Its not," the crowd replied. 235 let Galliard go first and it went uneventfully, but on his first turn, the pirate popped out with what seemed to be amused glee. "....Does that mean I win?"  Galliard looked disappointed that he wasn't the one to make it pop out, despite the fact that wasn't the point. "Fuck it, I want in on Gally," 8861 chirped.   "Me too!!" came the call from 191's pianist. "Hey, us too!" The crowd was so into playing Galliard that the game started already, and the bartender shrugged and changed it to the kaiju marathon when he noticed they were all focused on playing a children's game than a championship. Much, much later, Galliard was a little mopey as he went home.  "I never did get the little chap to pop out."

~~

Since the championship was over, competition for the tv usually died down, but the fervor continued when Galliard came in.   The game of the night?  Snooker. Galliard neglected to mention he actually knew this game. Quite well. Tournament well. The tv played a marathon of true crime while Galliard owned the bar.

~~

The boys picked darts the next time he came in. Galliard neglected to mention he knew the game well enough to play blindfolded. The tv stayed off that night.

~~

"He's a witch," 191 said conspiratorially.  "I mean, the Lucky Stab game.  He never popped it ONCE." "No, it means you all suck," snapped 235's drummer. "We all do, if we all popped and he didn't." "What are the chances?" "That Jenga shit he pulled?" "Yeah, like you'd tell Gally he made a mistake?  Galliard.  10250.  I'd sooner tell the Pope to screw himself."  8861 nodded to himself sagely. "Yeah.  If it weren't Gally, I'dve knocked his head down his neck for that shit." "So?" asked the 235 vocalist. "So, what?" replied another member of 191. "Do...we all suck that much or is he that good?" There was a silence in the bar as they considered this. Galliard entered the bar and half the patrons came over, each holding a game to challenge him with.  He sheepishly shook his head. "I'm not here to play for tv rights.  I didn't see anything I want to watch tonight." "Fuck the tv, we wanna just beat you at SOMETHING."  235 shook a box for Connect 4. He laughed sheepishly, eyebrows raised.  "Vince did tell me not to start playing games with you chaps....this always happens with us." "How about Poker?" "I...don't play gambling games like that.  I used to be an alcoholic, I have an addictive personality."  Its said with a jovial tone, despite the truth to it, and everyone who knew him knew. "Uno!" "Old Maid!" "Anything, just let us try!" "How about Operation?" "If you play that annoying noise game, I'll throw you all out of the bar," snapped the bartender. "Old Maid it is," Gallaird said, relenting. They started to deal cards to him, as his partners Vince and Shultz came into the bar.  The tender nodded at them as they sat in the corner and he came to meet him. "He hasn't been drinking, has he?" asked Vince, his square face looking unusually concerned. "Nope.  Shirley Temples the entire time." "He does love those girly sweets."  Shultz, the bald-headed musician, chuckled. "He's looking good," the bartender said. "Is he?" asked Shultz.  He watched Galliard play the game with his usual bright blue eyes dancing. "Yeah.  After the night of Lucky Stab.  Though he was really bummed he didn't lose that one." "Of course," laughed Vince.  "Gally loves toys." "Snooker and darts I knew...but has Gally always been this good with games?" The members of 10250 glanced at each other.  "Well...when he gets in a rough spot...sometimes he just has a giant streak of luck.  Maybe its the universe's way to even out....the family situation." The bartender watched Galliard smilingly give away his Old Maid card.  He glanced up and gave his team and him a small wave. "Thanks," Shultz said gratefully. "Its no problem.  He's good people.  Drinks tonight are on me." When he left to fill their orders, Vince slipped his glasses off and cleaned them.  "Well.  Shall we join the game?" "Oh heavens yes.  Its been awhile since I've taken the younglings for a ride in Old Maid." "Good thing we taught Gally how to play that." "Indeed, old friend.  It'll soften them up for when we take them for a ride in Poker."

[humanscandrivestick]

E.Q.--Le Jour Heureux de Valentine

Happy Valentine’s Day from Trancer 42 and Trancer 8392.  Also, I totally want what Laika gets as a gift one day.  That would be the best ever.

~~~~

There was a bouquet on Felipe's desk when he came in that morning.  A similar one was on his partner's desk, and his partner gave it a curious look as he picked it up.  His was in blues and emerald greens, with palm-sized blossoms, while Felipe's was full of oranges, pinks and reds.  Roses, peonies, hyacinths, even chrysanthemums.   They were all made of paper, a fact that Arpeggio was surprised about as he picked up one of the blooms and found the stem was a striped paper straw. "Huh?  I didn't know you could make flowers out of paper."  His voice wasn't as deadpan as usual, a hint of surprise and curiosity in it. Felipe, his hair the color of stoplights with hot pink tips, smiled as he set his next to his computer and flexed his fingers, waiting for it to boot up.  "Those are coffee filters.  And tissue paper." Arpeggio blinked as he sat down.  "How do you know?" "Well....I've made a few tissue paper flowers in my life.  Learnt that people on Valentine's day will pay a guy for any pretty flower when its past 6pm and the florists are closed." "Where did they come from??"  He turned to him.  "Did you make them?" Felipe laughed.  "Naw.  Mine don't look as good as the real thing.  They must be from a girl who wants to impress us." The TC stared at him with confusion.  "Huh?" "Crap, Arpeggio, don't you know?  Gonna be Valentine's day soon." He shook his head. "Never gotten valentines as a kid??"  Felipe could buy that Arpeggio didn't celebrate holidays, but he still forgot that Arpeggio didn't have the same kind of childhood as most kids. "That wasn't something...we did.  I guess once or twice I've gotten chocolate, but I'm not a huge fan so I always gave it to other people." Felipe winced good-naturedly.  "Dude, don't do that....  Those represent feelings, you know?" "I didn't.  I don't."  Know, that is, is what he meant, but these weren't things he learnt as a young child.  While kids learnt to read and write and maybe make crafts from leftover items in a home or classroom, he was training to play every instrument in an orchestra, how to run marathons, shoot guns, and memorize volumes of music. "So who are these from?" "Probably Laika." He blinked.  "How do you know?" "Cuz I helped her hand dye about, oh, 300 filters in easter egg paint a few days ago.  S'why my hands were rainbow-y." "I though she was dying your hair." "She was.  Then we did that.  She's pretty handy with paper, scissors and tape." "What are they for?" Felipe stared at him.  He quelled the impulse to holler "THIRD BASE" at him, then started to laugh uncontrollably.  "Dude...you on 88s?  Take some gabber to keep up with the conversation.  They're for valentine's day." The puzzlement didn't leave his face, and it made Felipe laugh, because the alternative was for him to pity him, and that wasn't something he wanted to do.  Arpeggio needed all the time he could get catching up on a social life. "For us?" "Yeah.  Sometimes, you give gifts to friends on V-day.  If you're JP though, you give chocolate, and you're obligated--if you got candy on Valentine's--to give back a gift a month later.  Its called White Day.  When I did Valentine's, I used to hang in the J-town district and got hella chocolate.  Made me a stud."  He could see his detour was distracting Arpeggio so he rounded back to the subject.  "Anyways.  She was gonna give a whole buncha people flowers for V-day.  She likes to make that kinda stuff." "What is she getting Sharp and Tungsten?"  Felipe raised an eyebrow, so he continued.  "I mean, I know its a romantic holiday, so I assume if there's gift giving, they give nice gifts to people...they...you know.  Like." "Well you know that much, you're not completely hopeless." There was a knock at the door and Felipe called them to enter.  Tungsten was there holding a small bag.  It had a lot of candy and envelopes in it. "Speak of the lil devil."  Felipe smiled at him.  "Man, you are popular." "Dude, what?  This is yours.  It was outside your office door."  He brought the bag over, where in delicate cursive, Trancer 42 was written in black permanent marker, and was stuffed with chocolate, candy, and lots of pink and red envelopes.  Felipe pulled one out and laughed.  There were a few labeled with his name, others with their number, and a good bunch with Arpeggio's name on them. Tungsten said, "I thought she was just making you flowers.  She musta made you guys a bag so people would know where to leave yours."  When he saw the boys' confused looks--Felipe's was more amused--he continued.  "I guess you didn't hear.  Everyone was doing valentine exchanges, so Laika and a buncha the girls went and made bags with the buildings' teams numbers on them so people can leave valentines to people without jamming them under the doors like last year.  A bunch got ripped or something." The red-haired Trancer was opening one envelope and tucking into a bag of candy hearts, reading the valentine.  "Yeah, we got a bunch last year; Arpeggio didn't know what to do with them so I put them inna box."  He nudged his partner as he showed him the one he was reading, addressed to Arpeggio.  "Mmmm, looka here, Pege, looks like you're pretty popular with the ladies." He shrugged, which elicited looks of exasperation from the other 2. "What are you getting the lady for the occasion?" asked Felipe.   The younger boy frowned.  "I don't know....flowers don't seem enough cuz she made so many, and she's better at making them.  I mean real ones I could, but...I dunno." "Want something special, yeah?" "I do.  Sharp doesn't know either.  She's not really a jewelry girl." Arpeggio shrugged.  "Well, what does she like?" "Everything." "That...doesn't....help." Felipe's eyes caught sight of the flowers on their desk.  He smiled.  "I got an idea....but we're gonna need someone to keep her away from home for the day." Tungsten and Felipe looked at Arpeggio who gave them a bewildered look. "Uh...I think I'm the wrong person." "That makes it perfect."

~~

Laika wasn't sure why Arpeggio was taking her to lunch on Valentine's day, especially when she wanted to go with Sharp, but the latter was busy with some business, and Tungsten and Felipe said they were busy too.  It was pleasant if a bit awkward at first.  Laika's experience with Tchaikovsky's Children was exactly Sharp, and Arpeggio was different.  A little colder, more aloof, though never unfriendly--at least not to her.  After chatting mindlessly about the weather, work, and even the valentine's day bag she set up for them, she paused then changed the subject.  They'd just finished eating. "How are you and Felipe getting along?" He turned his head slightly, as if thinking.  "Hm?  Well...well enough, since we aren't as...antagonistic as you can see." "You know what they say, the more you fight, the more you like each other," she teased. He gave her a sheepish smile, but it was tinged with embarrassment.  "You don't believe that, do you?" "You look good together," she said with a smirk. He shut his eyes and gave a friendly exhalation.  "I'm sure we do but...I don't think that's really something I'm looking into.  I'd like to, despite the cliche, focus on my career.  Even if Felipe was at all attracted to me, and I don't think he is." Laika wasn't sure either.  "He's a tough nut to crack." "Really?  He's rather easy to read.  Compared to me, I suppose." "You think?  Sometimes I think he's hard to read." "I suppose its because I live with him that I have the luxury of thinking that."  His phone vibrated, so he took a look and saw that Felipe was telling him to bring her back.  He called for the check, paid despite her protests (he convinced her it was thanks for the flowers, which she amusedly accepted), and they headed back for the apartment. Felipe was sitting in his usual spot of the playground and smoking.  Arpeggio gave him a small wave as Laika approached. "Heyyyy," he said casually.   "What were you and Tungsten up to?" she asked, a little miffed. He only smiled as Arpeggio passed them and headed back to their apartment.  Felipe shrugged and followed.  "Well, you have a good night then." "What's all this about?" she demanded but Trancer 42 only headed back, took the stairs instead of the elevator.  Nettled, she made her way to her own apartment, intending to call her partners when she got in.  She came to the door, and unlocked the door, then dropped her keys in shock.  The foyer was draped in hanging paper wisteria flowers, with paper leaves, hanging by plastic hooks from the ceiling, and as she walked through, the living room area was decked out in paper roses, pansies, and more chrysanthemums made of tissue paper and coffee filters of all colors, some bright, other more subtle and faded.  A stand of giant crepe paper roses with bamboo stick stems was in the umbrella holder.   From more hooks on the ceiling are a few pomander balls of flowers made from paper lanterns and more coffee filters, dyed from the center out so they resembled dandelions in pinks and lavenders.  Clematis flowers decorated the sofa arms and back. The large vase on the living area table held a bouquet of roses made from sheets of music, delicately curled from the tips of the petals. Sharp and Tungsten, both wearing crepe paper flower boutonnieres in their vest pockets, were seated at the table, a tea set and small array of petit fours and macarons all set up for 3.  Her hands at her mouth as tears crowded her eyes, she couldn't find the words to say...well, anything. "Happy Valentine's Day," they said together as she quickly came over to throw her arms around them.

~~

Their valentine's flowers gracing their table, red and blue flowers combined into one vase, Trancer 42 enjoyed their job well done.  Munching on a few of the leftover macarons from the set up, Felipe and Arpeggio were having a pot of earl grey tea in satisfaction.   "The set up was really nice," Arpeggio said, sipping his tea.  He'd seen the decorations from the picture sent earlier as a signal.  "But how did you 3 ever get all that done??" "Like I said," Felipe chirped as he chewed a strawberry macaron in relish.  "I've made a few of those puppies back in my day." "You really do have the strangest talents, Felipe." "You're welcome."

[humanscandrivestick]

E.Q.--When Allegro Comes Marching Home

Fleace’s career as a Metal gets off to a good start.

~~~

Metal 187 had been working defection cases for a few years before they were officially sent overseas to Germany to put down a rebellion.  The plane engines hadn't even had time to go cold before Allegro, now codenamed Fleace, led his 5 man team into Vilseck, Germany, and flattened 3 consecutive Metal dance-easies in what may have been considered record time.  The last had been mildly tricky, since the DJs had holed up in the restored Rose Barracks, a former US Army base nearby.  Mildly since the barracks themselves had proved to be a substancial fortification until Double and Jeeves suggested explosives to blow a hole in part of it. He liked this Jeeves, someone he happened to find when busting an easy early in his career.  Double recognized the talent and while processing him after picking the easy up, cut a deal: play for the Corps or prison for 35 to life.   Jeeves' mother, as he put it succinctly, didn't raise a fool.  He took the deal, and quickly showed a ruthless, savage side Fleace took to immediately.  Maybe it was the fact he was now a government sanctioned murderer, but of anyone that Double and Fleace had ever observed in the Metal division, Jeeves adored the job. He picked up Double whom was contemplating retiring active duty to mentor in the second run of Rothbarts.  Already well into his 50s, which was positively ancient for a Metal, and prehistoric for a drummer, Fleace reasoned he was a man who knew what he was doing.  Instead of becoming a mentor to the young man when he joined, Double soon found that he was more like a second in command, as the junior Metal made all the decisions, reckless as they were initially but always successful.   Those first several years, he'd tell Fleace, "You're going to get me killed." "If that were true, you'd be dead by now.  You're Immortal, old boy," he'd reply smugly. The rhythm guitarist and bassist came as a pair, given ridiculous codenames by their original team, and didn't bother changing them.  The bassist spoke little, but was impeccable in his job and play style.  Nothing extravagant, took his leads from his teammates, but that's why Fleace liked him.  Always did what he was told without protest.  The rhythm guitarist was a little more active and receptive.  More of a partier, definitely a drinker, but had an alcohol tolerance that was nearly superhuman.  Fleace liked that too.  Made him chatty. They were flush from excitement after their German tour (except the usually austere bassist, and the now rapidly aging Double), and entered their office.  Wine and beer was broken out.  When Fleace woke the next morning, he wasn't sure what they had or how much, but damn was it worth it.  Jeeves and Google were already gone, and though he declined to partake, his partner had cleaned the office.  He went to change and came back to settle in at the computer before Double came back in for the morning. The bassist returned with a pot of coffee but Fleace shook his head and yawned. "Shit.  Where the fuck does your partner put it all?" he asked. "Dunno," the taciturn bassist replied. He rolled his eyes and glanced up as the guitarist in question entered again. "Hung over, boss?" he asked with a smirk. "The hell you put that all, I swear to Lem." He retorted with a mirrored smirk. "Dude, I'm always drinking, I prolly got Jack Daniels instead of blood." "Fucker." "I heard something from Double." "What's that?" "You ever been to Kenya?" Fleace gave him a look of amused confusion.  "No." "I heard maybe that's the next tour." "What for?" "MC's got problems with a resistance movement.  Like this is civil war big problems." Fleace raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair.  "Hmm.  Someone musta been pretty impressed with Vilseck.  How do you know all this crap?" "You wouldn't believe me if I said."  The rhythm guitarist dropped into his chair and started on his half full bottle of whiskey. "Try me.  I'm hungover and jetlagged as fuck.  I'll believe anything." "Well around 3 when the rest'a you pussies passed out, I went to the mess hall to see if i couldn't weasel another 6 pack.  And there's this old dude drinking by hisself in the kitchen.  Like he's got a bottle of fucking rose and like 3 glasses.  Like he's partying with himself and the spooks for something.  So I ask him if he wants company." "Right.  So some rando wants to have a guy who stumbles over himself and smells like a distillery drink with him." "Hey, I may stink like a moonshine factory, but I'm coherent enough shitfaced, asshat."  He grinned.  This was true.  Somehow no matter how much he drank, he was able to walk a straight line and talk pretty clearly. "So he said yes?  Maybe this guy is creepier than you." "Yeah maybe, but I got my axe still and what the hell, he's got booze.  And we get to talking and tell him what Metal I'm in and stuff.  He seemed impressed with Vilseck and shit.  So he asked who the team lead was and I said it was you.  He seemed to know who you are but he used a different name....uhhhh, whatsit. " "Allegro," Fleace replied, growing slightly irritated with the story detours. "Yeah, that's it.  Dude, Fleace's so much better by the by.  And he says that 187's been doing so well that he knows that there's a huge tour coming up that they need a crack team to pick up.  He says Kenya's where its at." "And how did he know about that?" "Well, he's got an armband, and he's some high rank Classico I think.  So maybe he knew." "Did he have a number?" "Nah, his armband didn't have a number.  But he said his name was Leitmotiv." Fleace and his bassist blinked at him.  That he remembered that was pretty impressive. "Leitmotiv?  Never heard of him."  Fleace shrugged and tossed back a bottle of water on his desk.  "But if he's some Classico without a number and a name like that, maybe he just might know something."  He made a mental note to check in with Sonatina.  "Anyhow, I say fuckit to work.  Take the day off and shove out.  I gotta headache to sleep back off."  Both of his teammates shrugged and left the office, leaving him to think about the information.  Google had the tendency to find a lot of gossip, but his tips and leads were often pretty good.  Its what made their easy busting so easy. There was a knock at the door.  He sighed.  "We're closed.  Come back tomorrow." A voice, smooth like beaten cream, with lilting tones of sweetened levity, came from the other side.  "Ah, forgive me, Allegro.  Perhaps we could have a chat on a different day...?" Curiosity compelled him to get up out of his chair and open the door.  A middle aged man was standing there. His hazel eyes were, in this dim morning light, nearly yellow like citrine gemstones.  He had striking black hair, coiffed neatly and with a sheen that caught the artificial lighting.  He was wearing a long overcoat with silk accents and collar, over an impeccably pressed black suit.  His left arm had a deep emerald green armband has Classico in cursive embroidery, but it lacked a number. He raised a curious eyebrow.  "And who do I have the honor of meeting...?" "Leitmotiv....I spoke with one of your...associates earlier this morning....  Ah...I mean, last night."  He had an easy smile, but one with a slight pull like a magnet.  It made Fleace faintly wary.  Still...curiosity and possibility compelled him to give him a smirk back. "Please...come in."

[humanscandrivestick]

E.Q.--Us & Them

The boys’ first dance easy bust.

~~~~

Arpeggio clocked in with Felipe at 9 am on the dot, which was a vast improvement over the last couple months.  Any behavior, Arpeggio told him as he brewed a pot of Blue Mountain coffee one morning, can be modified and will stick if repeated for nearly a month.  So, he reasoned, let's begin modifying a proper waking schedule.  Sullenly, Felipe resisted at first but the incessant "Henry the 8th" on the loudest and most obnoxious setting of Arpeggio's Cezio, certainly was impetus to get his ass out of bed.   It only took a few weeks for him to actually start waking earlier.  As coffee was the only thing Arpeggio knew how to make without burning it, Felipe began to make breakfast too.  He couldn't understand how someone could be living on his own and not know how to cook.   That morning, after a rather sumptuous (at least by bachelor standards) breakfast of fluffy scrambled eggs, bacon, coffee and canned croissant rolls, they sat at their desks and began work.  Lately, Arpeggio had been instructing Felipe on how to research and pinpoint locations of dance easies and the usual protocols for running a bust.  Most of the training for it was met with indifference and mild irritation on Felipe's behalf, and his partner wasn't sure he was at all retaining any of it.   An email rolled in around 3 pm that afternoon, and Arpeggio noticed it was from Emi, their Manager-Handler.  Using their computer's linked network, he opened it on both their monitors and Felipe cocked his head curiously.   "Wuzzis?" "Emi has orders for us to conduct a bust tonight," he said, opening the relevant information embedded in the document. "How fun," he mumbled, idly messing with his touch-mouse.   "Are we clear on the protocols for this?" "Sure." "Felipe," he said, sharply. "Dude, I said yes.  I know what to flippin' do." Unconvinced, Arpeggio started checking the locations and sent Felipe some information.  "I think we should go over which samples we're allowed to use in this situation." "Whatever."  The fight was absent today, so he took advantage of it by dragging him to a practice room. They clocked into a second timeclock for raids and busts that normally occur at night.  Trancers deployed after normal hours usually got a separate paycheck, but as it was Trancer 42's first easy bust, there was a bonus attached should the finish without a riot scratch, and in a timely manner.  Thinking it would raise his spirits, Arpeggio told his partner, though he technically wasn't supposed to until after they were paid. "I never thought I'd be getting paid to be a killjoy," Felipe retorted sullenly.   The TC sighed.  "Well, that figures."  They were on their way to an escort vehicle, since Arpeggio didn't have a license and Felipe wasn't allowed to drive in any case until his probation was over.  A pair of MC guards drove them to a checkpoint nearby the location.  It would be an hour before it would begin running.  Again, after they were dropped off with all their equipment--a pair of tablets equipped with their sanctioned sample packs, a direct line to Rockers and other police squads made for picking up offenders, and programs for taking control of speakers as well as administering the Control Frequency if things got hairy--Arpeggio went over their plan of attack. Finally, Felipe broke his semi-silence.  "I really don't wanna do this." Automatically, Arpeggio replied, "This isn't about you." "Look...people who go to these are just looking for a good time." "Illegally."  It was pointed and cold, but he just wanted to get on with it. "And we all saw how the War on Drugs worked out." "Focus, Felipe." "This is bullshit." Arpeggio turned his hard, cold sapphire eyes onto him, glaring intently, and Felipe only returned the intensity.   "I don't care.  You're in the Corps now, and you will do as you are told.  Am I clear?" "And if I decide to scratch it?" There was a pregnant silence as Arpeggio glared hard at him.  Suddenly, he grasped Felipe by the tie and collar of his button down shirt.  A flash of surprise sparked in his black eyes but Felipe stood his ground. With a low growl, Arpeggio said, "I wouldn't do that if I were you." There was a small, low vibration they both could barely perceive, coming from the basement level of the building they were next to.  It didn't relieve the tension, but Arpeggio released his partner and turned to their tablets, handing one to Felipe, whom took it with a terse tug. A quick check from Arpeggio's tablet showed a single machine, most likely a wireless deck, and 5 different speakers in different corners of the room, and one set next to the deck.  Building plans showed 2 exits.  That was going to be tricky.  He looked up from his pad and saw Felipe already sliding into an open ground level window.  Before he could stop him, he slithered in and disappeared from view. "Felipe!!" he hissed as he dropped to his hands and knees to look.  The room was dark, but he could hear the sounds of the music from the easy, and while it wasn't hard Acid or hard Rock/Metal, the electronic nature of it would make this easy to deal with.   He hesitated, then slid into the window and quickly landed on a stack of empty pallets.  He didn't see his partner in the backroom, and cursed quietly to himself.  He quickly made his way out to a hallway and followed the sound of the music, beginning to hack the speakers in the main room.  He found Felipe outside a door, leaning against the wall.  His eyes were half closed, and his face had a quiet, almost despondent look. "Felipe." He was quiet, until he spoke, slowly and barely audible above the muted dance easy music.  "They just want to have a good time....they're not hurting anyone...." Arpeggio was silent, and in the dark, his pale skin had an etherial look to it.  He looked like a spirit. "I understand how you feel...." he started. "Do you?" Felipe snapped sharply. "Maybe you think I don't, but even if they're not, this isn't legal.  And if something went wrong, people would get hurt.  Its best to stop it before things get too far." "You don't know that for sure." "Felipe, please."  Though his tone was still sharp, it had a beseeching quality.  "Regardless of your feelings, you are a member of the Music Corps, and you are a Trancer.  This is your job.  This is your life." "NO, this is YOUR life, Arpeggio.  I never asked to do this, I never was asked to.  This is forced on me." Arpeggio fell silent again.   Felipe had a look of helpless anger on his face.  His hands shook. "Then go outside.  I'll handle it on my own."  He took Felipe's tablet, and opened his music program, waiting for a measure to pass then began to override the music.  It began slowly, then started to dictate his own pace.   Felipe watched him, his eyes glaring, before he reached and snatched his pad back, but Arpeggio was busy keeping pace and couldn't retaliate.  They could hear some voices of concern from the otherside of the door, and Felipe cautiously opened it to look, despite Arpeggio whispering at him to not. The dance easy wasn't very large, merely 20 people including the DJ, and a few people were beginning to fall under Arpeggio's rhythm, but others were actively looking around, becoming agitated.  Felipe looked at his partner. "You're not doing it right," he hissed. "I haven't started yet," replied Arpeggio calmly, as he shifted samples and increased his influence. Felipe slipped into the room as the DJ abandoned his kit to search the room with a posse of his gang.  Arpeggio cursed under his breath and followed him, barely snagging his arm. "What are you doing??" "We're gonna scratch unless you follow my lead," he snapped as he made his way to the deck, but the Dj turned and caught sight of him. "The hell are you?!" he hollered over the music and the TC made an executive decision to set an 8 measure sample to go auto then grabbed his partner and head to the deck.  The change in the room went from mild confusion to full on confusion. Felipe took a look at the deck, and thinking of the music he heard before Arpeggio arrived, quickly found what he needed and began to play off of it.  One handed, he started the building blocks of the song as the other hand synced his tablet to it.  Arpeggio synced his but as the Dj and his gang started to approach them, he abandoned the music and drew his gun. "This is NOT how we are supposed to do this," he growled at Felipe, but in no time flat, he was able to build a fuller song from the previous music as well as the samples they were equipped with, the mix escalating slightly to pull the crowd in thrall.   "Just keep the DJ back and let me handle it," he said, his voice oddly calm. Arpeggio turned his attention to the DJ.  "I'll shoot if you come any farther.  Trancer 42." "Fucking Corps," he snapped back and kept stalking towards him. Felipe found a hard deep bass sample, and fired it off as the DJ came within the cone of sound of the speakers by the deck.  It nearly took him off his feet and flattened the few dancers nearby.  He dropped the decibels slightly, and played a clever pattern that was both disorientating as well as rhythmic.  He adjusted the volume as he went along, nodding at Arpeggio. "Hey." Without being told, Arpeggio holstered the gun and joined him at the deck, using the tablets.  The song they began to weave wasn't anything like they'd rehearsed hours ago.  Active but not riot inducing.  Calming but rhythmic, it pulled everyone in, though some of the gang fought to rebel.  The crowd had a considerable amount of Loss already instilled, and Trancer 42 merely expanded on it.  In a few minutes, during which Arpeggio was able to send an alert for a pick up, the crowd was completely pacified, and as the police entered to arrest them, Arpeggio wound the sound down carefully so as not to distract the raid but also so as not to cause the crowd to react. The easy quickly pacified as well as ended, both young teens disconnected from the speakers and logged into the Corps system for a quick debriefing. Felipe was leaning against one of the escort cars, tapping his foot idly.  When Arpeggio finished with the last of the cops, he approached him. "What was that?"  His voice was hard, with equal parts of hostility and disappointment. "That was a bust."  He glanced at him with a defiant look. "You didn't follow any of the trained protocol."  His voice was nearly a growl. "I didn't need that shit.  I know how to keep a crowd from rioting." "You put yourself into a dangerous situation and nearly--" "Blah blah blah compromised the operation," interrupted Felipe.  "Look, Arpeggio.  Just cuz the Corps got their rules and regulations and shit, don't mean they always know best.  And sometimes you gotta think out of the box." Arpeggio merely glared at him.  "I'll be making a note of your actions tonight." "Whatever."  The driver unlocked their car, and he yanked open the door and slid into the back.  He was sliding a cigarette between his lips and lit up as Arpeggio slid into the passenger front seat.  His irritation and anger only made them all lapse into a hard silence that lasted until they had gone home. Arpeggio finished writing his report and sent it in before turning in for bed. Felipe stayed up longer, staring at his ceiling, trying to cope with this horribly sick feeling in his chest.  Disgust over his actions that night, anger at Arpeggio's inability to see what he saw. Most of all, helplessness.  That this was going to be his life from this point on. He hated it.

[humanscandrivestick]

E.Q.--Be The One

Felipe and Arpeggio finally connect.  Inspired also by the song Matt Berry’s Take My Hand”.  Click here for the previous story, The Lift.

~~~

Felipe hit the hardest rock bottom of any emotional hole he'd ever fallen into.  As he leaned against his door, weeping, he balled handfuls of his hair in his fists.

He could hear Arpeggio pounding on his door.  "Felipe!!  Please...!  Fel, open the door!!"

He wedged himself against the door and cried into his knees.  Music Corps doors often didn't have locks for non TC members, but Arpeggio didn't try forcing it open.  Hearing his partner softly cry on the other side was a lock in of itself.  

There was a heavy, long silence, stretching between them.  The young TC stared at the door for a long time before he softly said, "I'll...I be here...if you need me."

He didn't get an answer.  He silently slid to his knees and leaned his back against Felipe's door.  He could very nearly feel his heat through the wood.  Gazing down at his hands in his lap, Arpeggio tried to sort out all his thoughts.  Logically, as he had been trained to do.  But now he was dealing with something that felt so out of his depth that he could see a logical sorting of his thoughts wasn't going to be sufficient.

What just happened?

I think...we just had an intimate relationship.

Did I do something wrong in it?

I don't know.

Why is Felipe upset?

I don't know.

Is this supposed to happen?

I don't know.

What does this all mean?

I don't know.

Arpeggio felt his body droop.  The unknowns in the situation were unbearable.

Felipe wept hard into his knees, curling his arms around them.  

You idiot.  You fucking idiot.  How could you?  HOW COULD YOU??  With anyone else, besides Arpeggio.  Your best friend.  YOUR BEST FRIEND, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.  How could you do this to him?  What could you possibly do for him?  You piece of trash, you idiot.

He couldn't even control his own thoughts to make them coherent; not that it mattered.  All Felipe knew was that he hated himself for doing this to him.  For falling in love with someone who didn't need that useless drama in his life.  For dragging him down to his level.  

Not Arpeggio.  This was someone destined for greatness.  Someone beyond him.  Someone so perfect, with eyes like an angel.  Talent as vast as an ocean.  

Felipe cried harder.  Because a part of him, deep down, wanted to be a part of that.  Wanted to be with him.  He loved him more than he realized.  And it scared him to the bone.

Arpeggio gazed at the ceiling.  Things had changed.  Radically.  He knew that.  People don't just suck another's cock and kiss that deep if there wasn't some kind of affection, Arpeggio reasoned, even Felipe.  Felipe loved hard.  He loved every one of his paramours with every inch in his heart.  He knew that more than anything.  Its why his heart broke so hard when things went wrong.  

It hit Arpeggio.

Felipe.  Felipe is....did he?

For me...?

Evidence certainly pointed to the conclusion.  But he couldn't quite wrap his head around it.  They had been friends, sure.  Such affection can evolve into something more, couldn't it?  

Was this a friends with benefits thing instead?  Still.  If it was, and it was so loose....why is Felipe so upset...?  Wasn't this cause for celebration?  Not depression?

Arpeggio put a hand to his face and tried to sort it out, but felt missing pieces of information.  He signed heavily.  He didn't understand a bit of all of this and part of him grew frustrated.  He was completely ill-equipped to deal with anything concerning the heart.

Something had changed between them, and this all had a weight to it that even Arpeggio could recognize.  He just couldn't fathom the reason.

Felipe felt as if he had cried out all the water in his body but he couldn't stop.  His chest squeezed so hard he could barely breathe.  

I...I want to be with him...I want to be with him....  He shook his head furiously.  You can't be with him...you don't deserve this.  You can't go back to the way things were.  You broke it.  You broke everything.  You fucked up.  You fucked up, you fucked up.  You ruined this.

He began to cry harder.

Arpeggio could hear him, and this time, hearing Felipe cry hurt him.  It actually hurt.  He could feel a terrible pressure in his chest.  It wasn't something he had felt before.  He gently raised his hand and knocked every so gently with the back of his hand.

"Felipe...?"  He waited, heard the smallest of pauses in the weeping, then knocked again, a little harder.  He couldn't face the door, so he looked at the ceiling, his back against it.  "Felipe...please...open the door."

He stopped crying.  There was a small wave of relief that washed over Arpeggio.

"Let...me talk to you, Felipe...?"

Felipe caught himself sitting up, his hand reaching to the knob.  His doubt and guilt chained it back down, and his hand fell limply to his lap.  Shutting his eyes, there was a gentle tug at his mind.  To let go and just ignore the world.  The sweet beaconing of wanting to run away, to that dark sleep he'd once run to before.  So tempting, seductive.  He wanted to run away from everything but didn't.  Something kept him there.

The silence was almost as unbearable as the weeping and Arpeggio tried again.  "Fel...I'm...I'm not angry with you.  I just want to know why you're so upset....I'm worried...."  He turned his head to look at the door.  Meekly, softly, he asked, "Did I....do something wrong...?"

Felipe heard the guilt in his voice, the guilt that Arpeggio thought he'd done something wrong.  Now that Arpeggio was taking on the guilt--he was making him take the guilt--that wasn't his, it hurt so much more.  He had to force his voice.  "N-no...!  You didn't...you don't do anything wrong."  He began to cry again.  "No...I'm...its me....  I'm the one...."

He was taken aback by the tone, the palpable sense of guilt in his voice.  "You...?  You didn't do...anything, Felipe....  You haven't done anything wrong...."

His partner shook, trying to hold himself together.  "I did...I've done something...I've crossed a line, Arpeggio, and I....I'm....I'm sorry....  I'm so sorry, Arpeggio...."  He pressed his face against his knees again

He shook his head, though Felipe couldn't see it.  "You think...what we did...you did something wrong?  That's not true, Felipe."

The innocence of the statement made Felipe's eyes sting.  "Pege...Pege, I'm so sorry....  I've...broken something between us."

Things are beginning to click for him.  "Change isn't a breakdown, Felipe."

He tried to swallow his sobs.  "You...you don't understand."

"I...I don't.  I don't understand why this...hurts you so much.  Why you're so worried about...messing up what we have.  I don't understand at all...what we've done hasn't...messed anything up, I think....  Especially...when what we...shared was so..."  He grappled with words.  "Honestly....it was...wonderful...."

It stopped Felipe instantly.  His heart began to soar, without bidding.  Arpeggio...thought it was...wonderful...?  His heart beat faster, trying to escape those bars of guilt and fear Felipe was trying to build around it, and yet...guilt slammed the cage shut.

I can't...I can't do this to him.  I can't pull him down with me...when he deserves so much more....

"Pege...."  Another sob engulfed his voice.  He was being pulled in two by euphoric love and panicked despair.  "You...felt...?"

Without thinking, Arpeggio blurted out, "It felt good, Fel."

Another silence descended.  Felipe couldn't quite believe what he was hearing, but Arpeggio wasn't the type to just lie to smooth things over.

He continued.  "You haven't...hurt me.  You didn't break me....  I may be new at this....but I didn't hate or dislike it....  You didn't do anything...wrong.  Just like I said."

Felipe could feel Arpeggio behind him, so close.  The door was warm.  He let it all sink into him, silent a long time.  Then he moved from the door to the end of his bed, leaning against that as he sat on the floor.  It was a gulf of maybe a yard or less; he couldn't even let himself enjoy his partner's warmth on his back.

Arpeggio heard the barest of shifting; could sense Felipe has moved.  The extra distance was confirmed by the distance his his voice.

"I...I've crossed a line, Arpeggio.  And I...didn't ask your permission....I wanted....  It....it took us this...long....to just....  Just be friends...."  He couldn't figure out what he was trying to say.

Arpeggio let out the softest of chuckles.  "Aren't you...thinking about it too much...?  Aren't you the type to just simply let feelings be?"

It came out of Felipe's mouth, unbidden, suddenly: "That was before I fell in love with you!"

It hung in the silence, and Felipe couldn't take it back.

After an aching caesura, Arpeggio quietly asked, "....May....I come in...?"

Felipe buried his head against his knees again and shook.  

He nodded.

Somehow, Arpeggio felt it.

The door opened.

Felipe, slowly, looked up from his knees, black eyes swimming with guilt and shame.  Arpeggio's breath caught in his throat, seeing the open despair on his face.  He'd seen it before.  This time it hurt so much more.

Because buried in the midst of those emotions was the naked and stark look of longing.

"Felipe...?"

He couldn't bear meeting those deep sapphire eyes so he turned away.  "I...I'm so sorry....this...this isn't what you need."

"That's not true."

"I've done a terrible thing."

"You haven't....  Not at all."  He knelt to him but he wouldn't meet his eyes.  "Felipe....please....look at me."

"I can't...."

"....Is....is it me...?  Is it because....of what or...who I am?  Is it that....I don't know....anything about this kind of stuff...?"

Felipe fumbled, grappled with words, none of them what he needed.  Finally, he settled on something more concrete.

"I'm....I'm scared."

He was quiet for a bit before he asked, "Of...what?"

Felipe was silent longer now, unable to meet his eyes.  It was more like Arpeggio was staring at a photograph than watching a live person in front of him, but for the breathing.  He was so still.  It struck something inside of the TC.  To see something so vibrant so....still.

"I'm afraid...of...all of this," he said vaguely, waving his hand slightly, as if trying to clear vapor or smoke from the air.  "I'm scared I'll...ruin you...I'm afraid of what this means between us.  I'm...I'm terrified that...I'll...."

Arpeggio opened his mouth to try to refute it, but Felipe kept on, words tumbling faster and faster in an avalanche.  "Felipe, listen to me--"

"I'm so fucking scared this is wrong, that I did wrong, that you don't need this--"

"Fel--"

"I'm scared, Pege, I'm scared I'm...I'm scared I'll..."

"Fel, please, you're not--"

Their voices overlap, unheeding of their own cadence, so uncharacteristically out of sync, an emotional cacophony. 

"I love you too fucking much to hurt you!" Felipe shouted, his voice cracking, and he tore himself from the close quarters of the floor, as Arpeggio moved back.  A moment of syncronization amid the chaos.  His back to his partner, he leaned over the bed and grasped the sheets in white knuckled despair.  He was crying.

"I don't want to hurt you," he sobbed.  "I'm so scared I'm gonna hurt you....I love you too much to hurt you."

Arpeggio threw his arms around him, pulling him into an embrace.

It was so sudden and unexpected, it stopped Felipe dead in his tracks, his breath catching and holding.

The TC nearly let go in his own surprise of the action.  It just spilled from him, seeing the pain in Felipe.  But he held on.

Because he was scared too.

He was afraid of losing everything, and by letting go, he would let it fall from his fingers and shatter, irreparable and final.

"Please, Fel," he said, his own voice a counterpoint: low, quiet but no less emotional and cracking at the seams.  "Please...."

Felipe heard for the first time an emotion, a pain so like his own that he barely exhaled.  He was too afraid to move, lest he too would break the spell.

"Felipe....don't....please don't run away."

It sounded odd when he said it but at the same time the right thing to say.  A million thoughts ricocheted in his head; run away from what?  He wasn't going anywhere....

Felipe didn't move.  A feeling of a drop loomed over him, the Dancer's Anticipation.  Wholly different yet wholly the same.

"Fel...."  In one syllable, Arpeggio felt tears start to roll down his cheeks.  He was crying.

When was the last time he'd wept?

Did that matter?

"Fel....please....  Don't....don't do this to yourself....  I meant....I meant it.....  It was wonderful, I swear to God, I....I don't want to lose....you....I don't want to lose this...."  Nothing he was saying was making sense, and Arpeggio's head was splitting between the logic and illogic of what he was trying to say, and the emotions and feeling of what his heart was saying.  His arms trembled and as he cried softly, they slowly dropped off of Felipe.  He brought his hands to his face and wept harder, harder than he ever had before.  

He'd never cried like this before.  

Ever.

It made him weep even harder.

He was scared too.

Felipe turned and watched him, seeing Arpeggio openly show such a powerful emotion was arresting.  He could scarcely believe it was happening.  And it hurt, seeing it.  This was never something he wanted for him.  Not for the man he now loved so much.

Felipe reached out to him, wanting to hold him.  It was automatic.  He'd done it so many time before, comforting people around him when they felt bad.  It was anything anyone would do if they had a heart.

Even Arpeggio had just now.

His heart skipped a few beats.

Even Arpeggio had.

Arpeggio had held him to comfort him.

Arpeggio had reached out to him.

Arpeggio....

Felipe threw his arms around him, held him, pressing his fingers gently into that beautiful raven black-blue hair and held him as tight as he could without smothering him.

"Pege...."  He was amazed his own voice was steady now, calm.  "Please...don't cry."

Arpeggio slid his arms around Felipe, pressing his fingers into his back.  "Fel...for the....for the first...."

His voice was muffled, so Felipe gave him more room, pulling back but still holding him.  Looking into those beautiful sapphire eyes.

Arpeggio, taken aback by his look, caught his breath, staring into endless pools of black before his voice found him again.

"For the first time....I felt...like...I was...."  He paused.  He wasn't sure how to say it.

Felipe tried to coax him.  "....loved...?"

Arpeggio shook his head.  "........human."

The 2 syllables, the single word, made Felipe's face open up in despondent shock.  He opened his mouth but Arpeggio reached up with a single finger and placed it over his lips.  Like a spell, the young man nodded slightly.

"All my life....I'd been treated like....you said it when we were first working together....  I was....just...."  His face cycled through a few emotions, trying to say the right words but only settled on the most common.  "A plank...."

The starkness of the word nearly made them both start to laugh, but Felipe, seeing these automatic emotions happen on something like Arpeggio was in of itself what made him stop and listen.

"I knew....I know what people say about me.  You and I talk about it often....  And Fel, its not as if I never believed you....  When you told me I was human...or....normal....  I always believed you, even...even if I could express it or tell you....  I was used to being the Corps' weapon...to be a tool.  I grew up nearly all my life with that...."

"Pege," he said but he stopped.  Arpeggio had more to say.

"But for the first time....I actually....I felt it with you.  I felt...human....I felt emotion....  Its not as if I haven't but....  Jesus Christ...in the last hour or so....I felt like....I was feeling years of these things I'd never felt before.  I felt...what it was like to...be...."  He paused, his face growing red from the memories of the moment.  "I felt what it felt like to....uh...."

Felipe took the opportunity to fill it in, just to keep him going.  "Climax...?"

"More than that...." Arpeggio said, still flushed, even harder now that the word was spoken.  "I felt what....I felt like I had...agency...I had a choice."  He rushed in.  "I told you...you didn't force yourself on me...I didn't just let  it happen.  I....I wanted to do it....I've never done anything like it but I had the choice and I wanted....I wanted to go on.  I felt..."

He took a few long breaths, trying to find the words.  Felipe didn't bother filling it in.  He wanted to hear him say it, from the heart.

"I felt loved."

Felipe felt his eyes sting.

"I felt....human."

He nodded, but Arpeggio reached up and gently took Felipe face in his trembling hands.

"I felt free."

The three words struck Felipe in the heart, and he felt more emotional over those 3 simple words than if he'd heard Arpeggio say "I love you."

They started at each others' eyes for a long time, their hearts beating hard.

"And...." Arpeggio tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat--he marveled that this wasn't just something he read in stories, that this was something that could actually happen--and it hurt.  He felt his eyes fill with tears as his fear rose to the surface again.  "And I'm afraid...I'm afraid of losing this....I'm scared of...never feeling it again.  I don't want to lose this feeling, Fel...."

He started to cry again.  

"Felipe....I don't want to go back to the way I was....I don't want to lose this....I know you're scared.  I know you're scared of hurting me...but....but that...." He let out another sob, full of sadness.  "Felipe please....  I don't want to lose my humanity...."

Felipe let out a sob too, realizing he too was crying.  He held him, pulling him close, and gave him a kiss on the forehead.  When Arpeggio's face looked up at him, he leaned in and kissed him.  It lacked the primal lust from before but was replaced with an intense, enveloping warmth.

"You won't," Felipe whispered, his forehead against his partner's, his lips barely brushing his.  "You wont....because its always been there...."  Felipe winced in the horrendous inadequacy of that so he took a breath and looked him dead in the eyes, straight to his heart.  "I love you, Arpeggio....  I'm sorry....I'm sorry it took so long to realize it....and....and I'm sorry if it will hurt you...hurt us, but...."  He took another long breath.

"I'll never let you go.  Where you go, I go.  I love you.  I love who you are, everything about you....no matter where you think you came from or what you think you are....I'll always love you.  So...don't worry.  I'm not gonna go anywhere.  Not without you."

Arpeggio trembled, his eyes lighting up in a way Felipe had never seen, and it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.  He did smile like an angel.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

[humanscandrivestick]

E.Q.--Hallelujah

Finally another E.Q. story (its been hard to motivate to write with the last few months of compacted work and losing my Molly), but its one I’ve been wanting to write since last year--where I wasnt able to finish it in time, so Decon did one for me.  

Bass gives Fade a gift she didn’t know she wanted, but now can’t live without.

~~~

The girls are in the living room and putting christmas lights on the tree when the boys come in the door.  Treble has an armful of groceries for dinner that night, and Bass is carrying a box with a cake in it.  Its a small round cake with white icing and strawberries, with a little marzipan log and santa.  Quentin brings in the booze, because as a frenchman, what else would he bring? Treble enters the room and immediately notices Balance's eyes look like they'd been crying, but doesn't press to ask.  Quentin and Bass set out the cake and food prep so she can come in to cook, where the blonde notices the same signs that Treble had.  When the redhead goes to help Treble untangle ornament hooks, he asks her quietly. "Is everything ok, sweetchucks?" She looks at him in shock then her blue eyes soften.  "Just...homesick hon....  Its better now.  I promise." He nods and they finish preparing dinner, a lasagna with hard boiled eggs sliced thin, and substancial chunks of italian sausage.  While it baked, they joined everyone out in the living room, where they were attaching various ornaments, a piecemeal collection put together from the girls' collection and ones the boys have begun together.  There are bulbs and little figurines, and stitched shapes, metal milagro style ones, wooden carvings.  There is no set theme except perhaps the fact that it has no theme. Quentin has a tablet on, and messes with the music files he has on it to auto play short blasts of different Trad songs for the season.  Occasionally he gets distracted by sitting down to play on it, and Treble sometimes joins in.  There's a riff that Bass recognizes, and going along with the song, he begins to sing, softly at first.   Quentin has never heard Bass sing, at least in a song type that wasn't familiar to Trancers.  He has a voice that comes from the chest, a bit husky but strong.  He hits the notes clear, and as he sings, his voice grows from a soft tune to one that's more robust and full.  Treble has heard him, back when they were first growing comfortable with their new partnership, and remembers the song.  Little of his voice has changed since then; perhaps its a bit deeper but its just as reverent.  He shuts his eyes briefly and enjoys the sound.  It feels like its been forever since he'd heard his voice. Bass keeps going, finally pausing in his decorating to sing, caught in the moment.  Then he opens his eyes and catches sight of Fade.  She has her small hands clasped as she watches him.  But her yellow-green eyes have filled with tears. It stops him abruptly, his voice quickly dying in his throat.  The others, brought out of the minor sense of Loss listening, blink in surprise, looking to him, then at her. Bass works his voice until he sputters a few syllables.  "Oh god...oh god Fade, i didn't...I didn't mean to...."  But he can't continue and feeling a painful squeeze of guilt, turns and flees from the room, to the hallway. Fade reaches a silent hand out to stop him, but he's gone and her face crumples. Quentin gets up to follow, but she catches his sleeve.  Treble shakes his head.   "Don't...you won't be able to get him to come back when he's like this.  He just needs a little time to sort his head out." Balance bites her lip.  "But...why....?"  She glances at Fade, whom is staring at the floor, absently rubbing the ribbons that hide the scars on her neck.  She realizes what he had and flushes in embarrassment.  "Oh...that's...." Fade shakes her head again, dries her eyes and nods at her tablet.  The others nod at her, and she sits on the armchair and logs onto the big screen mounted on the wall, where Quentin's tablet had been playing.  A small text window opens. Its all right.  I'm...I'm not offended by him singing. "You're not?" asks Balance. No.  I'm... just remembering the past. The strawberry blonde's eyes look sad and she nods.  "Well, I can't fault you...I...had the same problem not long before this...." Quentin gently nods at Fade.  "Do you...want to talk it out...?" Treble sits on the arm of her chair, his hip gently brushing her shoulder and she she puts a grateful hand to his knee before typing quickly on the tablet. Yes...if you all don't mind listening.... "Not at all," Quentin replies.  He gives her a small smile. She nods and starts typing.  Its a long story.

~~

"Holiday work again, girlie," Lulu said as she dropped into an easy chair in their apartment.  Work had been quite busy for the newly minted Classico 55.  Trad song concerts for their district's holiday fests as well as private concerts for large companies around London.  Melody and Lulu were back home while their TC Glissando was still back at the office with their new Handler-Manager Angelo, a young man from Italy, whom came from a long line of Classicos and H-Ms.  His chief talent was composition, providing sheet music for the district before applying for an H-M position.  He'd been hired to be Classico 55's handler only a 6 months ago, just shortly after Melody's 19th birthday.  At the young age of 25, he was having quite a successful and quick career. Melody swept her long ringlet curls off her shoulders with a huge sigh.  After a 10 hour day, she needed the time to relax.  "Tell me about it.  I can't wait til Christmas is over." "How long's Gliss gonna be at the practice room today?" "Dunno.  But Angelo said he'll be off the clock when they come back."  She leaned back and closed her eyes.  Thought of Angelo floated into her head.  His soft and gentle voice, the long slender fingers, his teal colored eyes and the golden brown hair that reminded her of hammered brass. "Why'er you blushing, girlie?" Lulu asked slyly.  She sat next to her on the ottoman and nudged her with an elbow. "I'm not blushing," she protested, her eyes snapping awake. "Uh-huh."  She leaned back a little and smiled gently at her friend.  They'd grown up together since they were in kindergarten, and joined the Corps to follow in their families' footsteps.  "I think I can tell when Mel gets a crush." "Can you blame me?" asked Melody with a sheepish grin.  "I can't believe we lucked out getting such a young HM." "For sure."  Lulu swept a lock of hair behind her ear and shook her finger.  "Just my type too.  Talented and from good stock." "Cute face and nice voice," Melody continued. "And that tush!" they squealed together, before lapsing into a fit of giggles.  They were half serious, but as they caught their breath, Melody sighed heavily.   "You think I even have a chance...?" "I was gonna ask you the same," Lulu admitted, shifting off the ottoman and onto the floor, leaning her back on the sofa opposite of Melody's chair.  "But...." "But what?" But Lulu was quiet for awhile, her brown eyes looking off on some unseen point on the horizon.  Then, softly, she said, "But maybe this isn't my path to pursue, you know?" The blonde blinked her light green eyes then shook her head.  "Oh Lu." "Mel...we've had our eyes on the same guys ever since we grew up...but this time, I want you to go for it." They were quiet a little longer.   "...why...?" "Something tells me....this is the one for you.  I just got a feeling." She flushed.  "You can't be serious...I mean...I hope that's true but...." "Trust me, girlie.  I think it is." "You're breaking my heart, Lu." "Believe me," she chuckled softly, slightly melancholy.  "I know how that feels.  Besides...I don't think we're the only ones that have a thing for him." Melody blinked at her but didn't ask any more. They enjoyed a patch of quiet, mulling that all over.  Then the lock turned and they looked over to the foyer.  Glissando, a caramel skinned young TC with brown eyes and a milk chocolate shade of hair, was leading Angelo into the apartment.  As their HM, Angelo's apartment was next door, but he always escorted Classico 55 into their apartment to make sure they were safe.  London streets weren't exactly the safest some nights. Though her eyes were dead calm, Glissando seemed in good spirits.  The trademark TC flat look was hard to read for those outside the Corps, even for TCs in different teams.  Lulu took that in quietly. "If you don't mind, Angelo," Glissando said as she set down her bag and removed her blazer and armband, a dark blue ring of fabric with the designation of Classico 55 embroidered in silver.  "Since we are both off the clock, perhaps you and I can partake in the district building lighting?" Angelo took her blazer and hung it on the coat hook by the door.  He bowed his head in greeting to Lulu and Melody.  "Evening, Lulu and Melody." "Evening," they relied in unison, even their speaking voices were lovely to hear in harmony.  It made him blush slightly.  They beamed a smile at him, though Melody's was a bit more shy. Glissando cocked her head at their HM.  "Angelo?" He blinked and fumbled with words until they started to fit like a coherent puzzle.  "A-ah...I apologize, Miss Glissando.  I...I have plans...tonight.  Forgive me." Melody felt a small pang of disappointment.  She was hoping to ask him the same thing. Her face was still and calm as he spoke, then she nodded once.  "I see.  I apologize for inconveniencing you then."  In anyone else's mouth, such a phrase would seem awkward at best and passive aggressive at worst, but for TCs like Glissando, such a thing was matter of fact.  She nodded at her partners.  "Ah, I need to finish practicing.  I'm going to the sound room on the second floor.  Will you be joining me, Lulu, Melody?" Lulu shook her head and yawned.  "Oh Gliss, sweetie, I'm bushed.  Aren't you tired?  We've been performing and practicing all day!" "I wish to practice Angelo's new compositions a bit longer." "You work too hard!" chuckled Lulu as she went to the kitchen for their french press coffee maker.  "I'll make some coffee for you before I go to sleep then." The TC gave her a shut-eyed bow, and though she wasn't smiling, this was a close approximation to her own way of doing it.  "Thank you, Lulu."  She turned to Melody.  "What are your plans?" Melody shrugged shyly.  "Not sure...."  She glanced at Angelo and they met with their eyes.  He flushed a little and cast them off to the side.  It was cute, but after her talk with Lulu, she couldn't help but read into it.   They made small talk until Glissando took her press with her and left, bowing at Angelo before she left. Lulu yawned again and waved at them.  "Well, kiddos, I'm off to bed.  You know how I need my 10 hours of beauty sleep." "You don't need so much, you're all already so pretty," Angelo quipped, then flushed again and chuckled shyly as Lulu and Melody teased him.  After she left to her own room and shut the door, Melody took a breath, and as he buttoned his coat, she blurted out, "S-so...what are your plans tonight...?"  She tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. He scratched the side of his cheek, bashfully.  "....Honest truth...?  I w-was hoping...maybe...if you yourself weren't doing anything...maybe.  Something.  I mean, something with you.  Tonight.  If you're not...that busy."  His voice started to go quieter and quieter until he was mumbling. "W-wait what...?" He cleared his throat but his voice was still quiet.  "Well...I was wondering if maybe you'd like to see the big tree being lit in the district courtyard....if you wanted." They stood in an awkward silence until Melody found her voice.   "Yes..!  I'd...I'd love to...  I wanted to ask you the same...." He let out a huge sigh.  "Oh thank god....I was afraid you didn't want to go with...with me." "Oh my god you are too cute," she blurted out.  It made them both laugh and blush at the same time. They were out in warm toasty coats by the 2 story tall district Christmas tree, where a Trad was playing an instrumental version of "O Holy Night".  It was one of Melody's favorite songs, because she really liked the tonal range.  She told Angelo, as they watched the lights blink on and dance, that when she was young, she once heard someone at a high school performance sing it. "It...it was so pretty....I started to cry.  I didn't know why, I wasn't sad, but I really felt the song in my heart."  She put a hand to her chest as she watched the lights, small prickles stinging her eyes, a combination of remembering the beauty and the cold of the winter night.  "She had the most beautiful voice in the world.  Like an angel.  That's...that's when I knew I wanted to sing just like her one day...." Angelo glanced at her then after a pause, he took her hand gently and held with with a gentle squeeze.  When she looked up at him, her cheeks pink, he put her hand gently in his coat pocket, to keep it warm. "I think...I think you sing like an angel too." She looked into his eyes, small tears forming at the corners.  The moment felt like it went on forever.   So she began to sing, and though the emotion threatened to choke off her notes, she sang with her whole heart, the notes wavering slightly before gaining strength like a bird learning to fly, hitting those clear notes from the bottom up. It was a song she hoped she never ever finished.

~~

Quentin sniffs, turning his face in embarrassment from crying at the story.  Balance pats the small of his back with s sheepish but teary eyed grin.  Treble has a hand on her shoulder, and she leans her head against his hand as she finishes her story. That's why...I was crying....  He reminded me of the day I truly fell in love with him.  Its a special song to me...not just because of Angelo, or because of the first time I heard it.  Its just such a pretty song to begin with.   Bass' deepest...truest emotions are always in his music.  I suppose his voice is the most precious instrument he has.  I know it was for me.  And that's why I...I wish I could tell him how much it means to me... Treble gives her a small squeeze on the shoulder.  "I...think he knows." She looks up at him, then follows his gaze, which is looking back towards the living room entrance, where Bass has been standing at the doorway, reading her story.  His cheeks have a few tears running down them, but his eyes aren't a storm of guilt and sadness.  They're a combination of relief and thankfulness. Her fingers tremble but she wipes her eyes and types to him. Don't ever be sorry for singing in front of me, Bass.  Please.  The sound of singing for love is the sincerest tongue of the heart. And...it made me very happy to hear it. He smiles sadly at her.  "You sure do know how to make a guy feel loved, babydoll." She nods once at him, dabs her eyes with a tissue Balance gives her.  So...encore? He blinks in surprise, then nods and as Quentin begins to play the song--simply with only an organ instrument in his music program--Bass starts to sing again.  His voice trembles, breaks a few times, and sometimes he stops, trying to control the emotion.  But once he gets going, he keeps on going.  Bringing his voice back to the same devoted tone and strength he had from earlier--and to Treble, from the first time he heard it.  His hands are floating in gentle gestures as he forms the notes in the air like a potter coaxing a pot on a wheel.  He hits the notes with more emotion, opening the gates in his heart to let them come with all the pain, reverence and unbridled joy of singing. As he finishes, Fade feels that same love and awe that she had felt when she heard the song her first time.  And while Bass' ability may not be as refined as hers had been when she had her voice, it certainly had the emotion she had chased and strove for in the past. And it made her very, very happy.