The air isn't blue or hazey. There are the smoking bans to thank for that. And while James prefers the clean air, there's just something off about a jazz joint that doesn't have a nicotine mist. Maybe it's the lack of color, but it could definitely be the missing, dream-like atmosphere. But what the place lacks in breathable (or lack thereof) atmosphere, it mades up for in other ways. Most of the musicians are at least tipsy, and sometimes it's difficult to hear a trombone over the din but these people love music more than food. 'Course, the food here isn't bad, either.

It's Thursday night and James is high on music and people and good beer. He's got a nice, comfortable pair of jeans on, a pair of leather shoes so loved that they hug his feet like slippers. There's also a hoodie on his body, some random Greek letters on the front. James may know how to recognize and even speak some foreign languages, but he's never put much effort in learning their alphabets. Anyway, he doesn't care enough to learn and the sweater only cost him three bucks, how could he go wrong?

Good music is saturating the airways, so even though James doesn't intend to, he's got the cocky frat-boy look down to a tee. His bright teeth flash even whiter against his dark skin as he grins along with the music, enjoying the talented sax player who stepped up to the mic.

There's supposed to be a pretty, talented, guitar playing young lady here tonight, so James is looking even more forward to that. For now he's content with his beer and music, and pretending to play an invisible piano that he's never touched before in his life. Fingers fly over the lack of keys on a wooden bar and he can almost hear the twinkles and accents that he could be playing if he knew how.

It probably doesn't really matter if she shows up or not, he'll enjoy himself either way, but this'll be good for her. James is sure of it.

Alix isn't too sure about this.

She pauses in front of the door, gripping the handle of her guitar case harder than is probably necessary, and takes a deep breath. This is what you wanted. she reminds herself. An introduction to the club scene so that you can play regularly and not have to worry about where the next meal comes from and how you're going to get up enough money for rent. Still, she's not sure.

Finally, she reaches up and pushes open the door. At first glance, the place looks nice - no smoke that would interfere with her breathing and make it hard to sing - but she really doesn't know anyone here. Unless James is here, of course, but her experience is that it's really hard to find someone in a bar, even if they want to be found.

She can hear little bits of whoever is on the mic now, and what she hears worries her. She's not a jazz artist, and if that's what people are expecting here, she is going to be shouted down off the stage in a big hurry. Deciding that just standing there does no good anyways, she hugs her guitar to her body, just in case, and makes her way out into the crowd.

James might be reveling a bit, but even he has the good sense to keep an eye on the door. There's a shift in the quality of sound when the door opens and lets in the world, so he looks and smiles when it closes and the world is shut out again. Guitar Girl is here.

He grabs another beer and pushes off from where he sits at the bar. He's casual, cool, aloof, and he knows how to walk through a crowd so he's got no problem making it over to the girl. The beer in his hand's for the guitar girl. The selkie doesn't know her age and, to tell the truth, really doesn't care. He's spent more than his fair share of time in Europe. Legal drinking age is the sort of thing that happens to other people.

"Hey! Good to see you made it, Guitar Girl." I won't lie. He's forgotten her name.

Despite what Alix's ears are telling her, she couldn't be in a better place. Because while most of the people here are jazz musicians, you won't find a crowd more in love with timbre and sound. A little heaven for the ear drums, they like to say. A lot of the people who frequent the bar come from Keaton's music department, anyway, so if nothing else they appreciate Alix's devotion to her craft. Besides, it's open mic night. If they didn't want to hear it, they wouldn't have come.

"It's Alix," she says, a little stung that he so obviously doesn't remember, but then decides she doesn't care. She notices he's carrying an extra drink. She could definitely use one for the confidence booster.

"Is that for your girlfriend or are you just the kind that likes to get plastered twice as fast?" she teases, hoping he's brought it for her. She can feel the grate of raising her voice over the crowd noises already and is grateful that this place at least has a mic. Some of the places she's played don't, and by the end of the night she's so hoarse that it takes two whole days to recover.

Well James might remember, you never know. He just might be that guy who gives all of his friends weird nicknames like "Colonel," or "Alaska" or, "Guitar Girl." She should feel special...except she shouldn't because he really isn't.

He smiles and shrugs, letting the fact that she saw through his act roll off his shoulders like water off of an aquatic animal's back.

"Two times faster than sober, and only if you want the job," said with a bottle halfway to his lips and a chuckle halfway through his stomach. James placed the beer in her hand and drank, "Bottoms up!"

Alix shouldn't worry about the crowd. James is certain that with the way she sings her prayer songs, people'll shut up just to hear her play a scale. Then again, there's always the option of forcing a feedback loop to get the club quiet.

((Um, so I have to super apologize, I totally said "The Beat" in the last thread and really butchered where he actually suggested. Sorry love. Oh well.))

Alix doesn't feel any sort of special, just nervous. She's never played for this many strangers before. Back home when she played in the bars it was always some of Gran's friends and - well, everyone knew everyone, so they were nice even if they might not have liked what she did. In fact, she's so nervous that she completely misses his attempt to hit on her. She takes the drink from him and takes a big swig. It isn't the best beer she's ever had, but it's pretty good and it should dull the edge of the nervousness nicely.

"So how does this work?" she asks him.

James thinks it's funny that she just ignored that come on. So she's either lame enough not to recognize it or she really is that nervous. Looks like, the way she's downing that alcohol. That's fine, so long as it doesn't hurt her playing. Either way, James thinks she's cute in that 'little sister' sort of way now. He'll probably give creepers the evil eye and pick on her from now on.

"Not much to it," he points over to a guy with a clipboard near the small stage, "Go tell him you want in, answer his questions, and you're in! He'll call you up if there's a wait. Or you might go straight on. There's been a lot of brass tonight, acoustic'll be a nice change."

She'll have to command the stage, though. James'll probably give Alix a bit of a pep talk before she goes up there, but she's got to have confidence in her ability to get them to shut up and listen.

"OK" she says, squaring her shoulders, "Here goes nothing." This last is under her breath, and she hopes he doesn't hear it. She already gets the idea that he's not that appreciative of her confidence (or lack thereof), though she's not sure why. She's always found that a little bit of nerves helps her perform better. Tossing back the last bit of her beer, she makes her way through the crowd towards the man James had pointed out. In what seems like too little time, she's been put on the list. There will be a little bit of a wait - apparently this place was pretty popular.

She decides to just go back to James, even though he's turning out to be a very different kind of person than she though. The way he's dressed, she'd almost say that he'd come to get her to go home with him. She still wouldn't rule out the possibility and that's put her on her guard. Still, he's the only one she knows in a bar packed full of people and that was a bit of safety in itself.

"So what'chu gonna play?" he asks down the neck of another bottle.

It's not surprising that Alix gets a certain..promiscuous impression of dear Jamesy. It's not entirely inaccurate. Just partially. He's sort of lost interest in her sexually for the moment. There is a girl near the door who's been eyeing him for a good ten minutes...maybe later. He isn't the type to leave his date for another.

A harmonica player is up next. As people start to loose interest in his style, the room grows louder.

James only leans closer to hear her better, I swear.

"I dunno," she says, shrugging her shoulders a bit, "I don't usually play in this kinda setting. I'm thinking I should probably start with something pretty upbeat though. Dunno. You think I should do something of my own or should I stick to mainstream?" She takes a final swig of her beer and sets it down on a nearby table. She wonders briefly if he'll try to buy her another. Not that she really cares if he does - she'll probably buy herself one eventually.

"Oh, go your own, definitely," James says with a nod of his head, "Folks here aren't that interested in stuff they've heard before. You've got to bring something new." Not that the selkie is really a musical genius or anything, but he's a an ok people reader. He's been coming to this bar enough to know what the regulars like.

"I mean," he shrugs, "If you're not comfortable doin' something of your own first-off then yeah, get yourself into the groove. But like I said, make it your own. You gotta make them forget that they've ever heard that song before. A lot of these folks just die for improv so they know they've never heard it before."

So maybe he's not the best at inspirational speeches. He tries. Sometimes. Other times he tells it like it is. And then there are times when James goes for a completely random mixture of both and gods only know how well those times work out.

"You want another beer or do you play better sober?" He's not quite sure she can hold her liquor, see.

"Ah," she says, breathing a silent sigh of relief. They probably haven't heard anything like her particular brand of folksy rock.

"One more beer should be ok, but that's it till afterward then," she says, not wanting to seem like she's too attached to liquor but at the same time desperately needing the drink to take the edge off. Not enough to buy it for herself though. She barely scrounges enough for food let alone recreational things like drinking.

She taps her fingers against the empty bottle in her hand as she decides what she should play. Maybe better to start with something they'll at least vaguely recognize. Maybe one of the few she learned back home while sneaking around away from Gran.

Well if it's the edge off she needs, someone's always bound to have a reefer, even if they can't smoke it inside. If he knew he'd probably have offered to find one but James is good to get her drink and let her have her set. He wasn't lying when he said he thought she'd do well here, and he's at the very least interested in her talent. Dexterity of the fingers isn't something he exactly grew up with an opportunity to learn.

"Another beer for the lady, coming right up. You got a particular kind you like? I sorta just got what was here before, you want something specific?" Some people are music buffs, others are movie fanatics, some are beer snobs. It's a good thing to know.

Alix isn't into anything stronger than beer, so it's a good thing James doesn't know. She will, on occasion get herself thoroughly plastered, but damaging her lungs on smoke after being told time and time again that she has the most amazing voice (even if it was all friends) isn't ever going to be on her agenda.

"I prefer the kind that has alcohol in it," she replies, smiling a little at her weak attempt at a joke.

Across the room she notices the man with the clipboard waving in her direction. Apparently she's up next.

Alix would be a cute drunk, James is willing to bet. Any imaginings he can conjure with Alix completely plastered have a ridiculously attractive combination of southern drawl and drunken slur. He smiles, despite having decided earlier that he isn't interested right now.

"Ah, yes, that kind. S'my favorite too, in point of fact," while she's being waved away by the stage manager, James motions for another beer from the bartender.

"It'll be waiting when you get back!"

Alix waved a hand to acknowledge that she heard him, but kept winding her way through the crowd towards the stage. She was nervous, but not quite as nervous as she expected to be. She was ready before the last person was finished so she just stood off to one side, twiddling with her necklace and taking deep breaths. Finally, it was time for her to go on. She decides to start with one of her originals, an upbeat little thing she wrote over spring break that wasn't really about anything special. In fact, every time she sang it the words changed a little bit. Mostly it was just about communicating the "feel good" that she had felt on that particular day. Once she saw how the crowd felt about it she'd go from there.

She looked out over the crowded bar. Hardly anyone was looking at her. She felt both annoyed and a little relieved. It would be easier to get started without too much attention, but if she couldn't turn a few heads with her sound, they'd probably kick her out after just the one song. Still the crowd had a good vibe and she was feeling pretty good.

"Lets go, baby," she whispered to her guitar.

If Alix's first song has half the amount of heart that she poured into "Luck Be a Lady," James is willing to bet that she'll have every mouth open and drooling by the end of her set.

There are several different kind of people in the world, but from time to time musicians narrow it down to two: people who make music for money and people who make music to share something. They like to think that they can tell the difference. Whatever their skill at discerning people's motives, this room of drunks is going to like what they hear, James is sure of it.

James backed away to find himself a wall to lean against, a place to be aloof. He doesn't stray too far from where he was; if Alix glances around the room she's sure to find him. A table next to him is laughing raucously at what must have been a funny joke, but James gently prods one of the guys in the ribs and brings their focus to the pretty girl with a guitar.

He's ready to be impressed.

C-G-C-F-D is all that was running through her head. She isn't even quite sure what's coming out of her mouth. She sincerely hopes it makes sense, but most likely it is. It feels right and that's the most important thing. The chords are simple though and by the second time around she relaxes enough to look up and gauge the reaction of the crowd. It looks like she hasn't really caught their attention yet. She lets her voice fade out and the guitar playing take over so she can think. She knows she needs something that is much less of a background piece. While what she's already playing is good, it was only ever meant to create a mood, and with the noise of the bar, that just won't cut it.

Finally she settles on another of her originals, also pretty upbeat and pretty easy to segue into. Here I am she thinks at the crowd, that little tickle in the back of your mind, that's me. Pay attention and you might hear something you like. The segue and intro accelerates into a rollicking tune with lots of difficult vocals over some of the most impressive guitar licks she knows. Taking a deep breath, she jumps in over the guitar riffs and takes off. This was always one of her favorites. It was based on the legend of Tam Lin, one of her favorite stories as a kid, and though it couldn't be called specifically "celtic" music, the tinges of jig that flavored the tune gave it that little something special, or at least that's what Alix thinks.

The tune spirals to the end with a flourish and Alix looks up, breathless. The first thing she sees is James leaning against the bar in almost the exact same position she'd left him in. How'd I do? she asks him mentally, smiling over her silly school-girl reaction. She shouldn't care what he thinks, this stranger she met while busking. But, at the same time, he's the only person in the whole bar that she knows, and she can never help looking for approval from her audience, if only to see if she accomplished what she set out to do.

It wasn't exactly a thundering applause, but damned if there weren't a lot of folks clapping. Almost everyone had looked up from their drinks when the girl's fingers had taken flight on the frets. There were some whistles, some enthusiastic cheers, and then there was James.

"WHOO! Go on, girl!" He had a smile 'bout a mile wide and a voice that carried. His hands were clapping heartily, infecting the people immediately surrounding him. Alix was talented, this he already knew, but now he wants everyone else to know it so he yells out, "Encore!" and inspires a number of copy-cats.

The entire time, James kept his eyes locked on the girl on stage. If his exuberant cheers weren't enough to convince her of his approval, the boy winks at her through a smile and a swig of beer.

Alix grins at the applause. She's forgotten how good it is to have a real audience. There are a few shouts of "Encore" and she looks over at the man with the clipboard. He waves at her as if to say "go ahead," so she leans over to the microphone.

"Thank you," she says, half-bowing, "Would you like to hear one more?" There are general shouts of assent and she nods.

"Alright then," she says, "This one's a recent original of mine - in fact, you could say that this is the premiere. Hope you like it, it's called Along for the Ride" She smiles over at James and looks back down at the guitar. The song is based on her most recent relationship, a wild ride while it lasted. The break up hadn't gone well - she'd tried to convince him she just wanted a break from the excitement and he hadn't bought it - but before that it had been wonderful. She put everything into the song, remembering the amazing feeling of zooming along on the back of his motorcycle, doing nearly 20 over the speed limit. Something about it just felt really right, and she started channeling all her energy into communicating the memory to the audience.

Behind her head, the air starts swirling and then resolves into something like a movie screen. It's like the camera is rushing along down a road lined with some kind of blooming trees. There are faint wisps of laughter and a breeze starts to blow a little, playing with strands of Alix's hair. Oblivious to the scene, Alix plays on.

At first, James thinks that he's had one or two too many. He shoots a devious look at his bottle before noticing that others are looking at the display behind the girl.

Did she have this planned? That's one hell of a premiere if you ask him. One glance at the stage manager, though, tells James that this just isn't the case. The guy's confused out of his mind. They don't have video equipment and he was sure the girl didn't bring her own...did she?

He makes his way though the crowd for a better look. Most of the people around him are just going with the flow. They're all either drunk or getting there, so they're not going to question the spectacle going on behind Alix's head. They've completely engrossed themselves in her song and are truly along for the ride.

One or two people, James sees, are in on the truth. He catches a girl's eye and shares a knowing glance. He isn't going to pass judgment until he makes sure that there's no equipment...and that doesn't take long. He can see that there's no real point of origin for the image. So can the stage manager and he's baffled out of his mind. The woman with the knowing glance walked up to him and seemed to weave a pretty convincing explanation. If it wasn't convincing enough, James is sure he caught sight of her putting a glamour on the man to calm his nerves. She finds James across the crowd and gives him another look as if to say, It's your problem now.

When Alix is done, James is ready to help her off stage.

Alix finishes the song, coming out of a trance-like state. It is so wonderful, performing live. Still, she knows that she was lucky to have gotten two songs.

"Thank you," she says into the microphone. She gets up off the stool and walks to the side of the stage. She attempts to find James over at the bar where she left him, but he's nowhere to be seen. Her euphoria deflates a little but she takes a deep breath and steadies herself. It's not like she asked him to wait for her or anything. He's probably out looking for his evening entertainment somewhere. She'll just get one more drink to steady her nerves and then go home.

Well, he can stand by the stage but he can't exactly force her to walk off a certain way. A small surge of shame hits James' chest when he sees her face fall. The transition from elated to disappointed was too quick for him. There's a group of people approaching her with congratulations and they're making it difficult to get over to Alix.

He's quickly getting annoyed, "Dude, move," finally, "Hey, Alix!"

Alix is surprised at the amount of people waiting to talk to her when she leaves the stage, a large percentage of them men. Suddenly she hears her name being called over the noise and looks up. It's James. She smiles again, glad that he hadn't left.

"Hey!" she calls back, pushing her way through the people crowding around her, "What did you think?"

What did he think? A great number of things, really, and he's not sure where to start. It's not like he has any experience doing this. He's no spirit guide.

He's a great study of facial tells, though, and he doesn't have any. He's all congratulations and smiles. Especially when his elbow lands into a particularly annoying man's ribs. The other guy doesn't seem to care and just gets out of the way.

"That was great! Hey, listen, could I talk to you for a minute? Somewhere else?"

Alix's immediate thought is that she's done something wrong.

"Why?" she asks, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," he laughs, "Don't look so glum!"

He gently takes a hold of Alix's arm to guide her out of the place. He glares at all the men, clearly saying back off when Alix isn't looking.

"It's just way too loud in here, don't you think?"

Yeah right, he's got to talk to her about that little stunt she pulled. Chances are she has no idea that she even did it, but there's always the chance that she's one of those who's figured it out and is using it to their advantage. Not that she fits the type but, well, you never know. No matter what the situation, she needs to be confronted or she could cause an unnecessary conflict.

It's not that the initiate world isn't for new members, but there's no way that initiation works on a large scale. Anyone seen X-Men? Thank-you.

Alix is a little confused, but allows him to pull her along. Her conscience flickers for a moment, and she worries that he's decided to take advantage of her, but she ignores it. He'd been so nice already and she is going to just have to trust that he'll live up to that.

"Ok," she says, "Where did you have in mind?"

Where does he have in mind...well he can't exactly take her to an ally, that would be stupid. Not only could she get the wrong idea but you tend to get overheard a lot easier when there's no one else around.

"Just over here," he points to a corner booth. It's occupied but he'll take care of that when they get there.

"You want another drink or are you good?" They'll be passing the bar anyway.

"I would love another drink, but unfortunately I'm broke. I'll pass," she says. She looks over where he's pointing and vaguely notices there are already people there, but she's enough out of it that she doesn't protest.

"You sure?" He points to himself, "I'm buyin'."

"Oh. Well, in that case, sure," she says.

"Alright then, what can I get'cha?" Maybe this'll go better if she's tipsy. He ushers her up to the bar with his hand behind her back. She's probably fairly there with the beers she had earlier but then again, adrenaline does wonders to help you forget you've been drinking.

He hopes he's not being a creeper. That's so not his style.

"Just a beer is fine," she says. If he's being a creeper, she doesn't notice. She's still reliving the song - it hasn't really left her yet, and she's drunk on it more than on any tangible substance.

Man, she's so going to be drunk by the end of the night..but really, it's better this way.

Beer gotten, booth acquired ("Hey, can we sit here?" "Yeah, sure"), it's time for business. He sits across from her, sort of hunched onto his elbows. Leaning onto the table like that really isn't attractive but he doesn't, at the moment, care. His hands engage in any number of small movements on the tabletop.

"That's quite a talent you've got there," is the nervous start, "You really make people feel it, huh?" Damnit, he's never had to do this before.

Now James understands why her song had been so good on the street, why he was so confident that people would love her. You can't run from pure emotion.

Alix smiles, a little puzzled. If it's so important to talk to her about something, why start with small talk?

"Thanks," she replies, "I try. Of course, till you came along, I didn't think I was any better or worse at it than the next musician." As much as she wants to know what he's so nervous about, she's not the type to push for it. Besides she's still feeling a little tired and dizzy. She looks nervously at her beer, wondering if James had put something in it, or the last one. After all, this was only her second drink of the night. She shouldn't be anywhere near this drunk. Besides, it isn't a drunk feeling, more just exhausted... but that didn't make sense either.

Great. Just great. Not only does James have to be the one to tell her, but she really has no idea. It would be nice if she at least knew about herself, wouldn't it? But noooo, Luck's not being a lady tonight, is she?

"No idea? At all? Oh wow, um, ok..." he scratches his neck. He'd be drinking if he hadn't already had two or three. The number's not important, really, but he's got to at least be somewhat sober for this. "Um, you don't ever find that people...Look Alix, what I'm trying to say...was there something special about that last song you sang? I mean, did you feel anything different, do anything different?"

It's not like James to be so troubled with his words, but everyone has something they can't do, right?

"Not really," she says, "I just did what I always do... That was alright, wasn't it?"

James would hang his head if it were appropriate. It would not, though, give Alix the proper impression. This can't be a burden for him, even though it is.

"No, it was! It was...awesome," for lack of a better word, "Everyone loved it. You did so well out there. Better than well, actually, it was sort of like magic!"

Way to introduce the topic! Go, James!

Alix laughs quietly. "Oh no, no, no. It's not magic. It's just the music, trust me." She smiles and reaches across the table for his hand. If he's worried about witches then she'll be the first to assure him that a) she's not one and b) she knows how to deal with "witches" - living in the cajun area of the deep south may not mean that you believe in witches but it certainly means you learn a lot about what people who do believe in them think will ward them off. Mentally she frowns a little though. This is just the sort of thing she was trying to avoid when she moved away - superstitious idiots who think the whole world is made of magic and that magic is out to get them.