Rifts - EotC - Silvereno
Re: Rifts - EotC - Silvereno
Before Carry can wander off to the stage, he Shep let's her in on the joke, "Hey, I was just kidding. The DJ said you're awesome and I agreed. Knock 'em dead." Shep settles in to listen as part of his mind works through some lyrics for his song in preparation for when it's his turn. 'First off,' he thinks 'I should try to make it personal to here.' He goes over some ideas in his head as he mentally sings them to the tune of Red River Valley. He should be able to pay homage to the original song, although he only vaguely remembers the actual lyrics.
From the ash‑covered roads I have wandered,
Through the dust where the old cities lay.
Now I sing of a town called Silvereno,
Where the night keeps the daylight at bay.
[OOC: Credit to copilot for the lyrics. I'm not a song writer. Even though Shep has no skill in it, either, I judge that his high intelligence should allow him to come up with a version similar to one he may have heard before but customized for Silvereno.]
From the ash‑covered roads I have wandered,
Through the dust where the old cities lay.
Now I sing of a town called Silvereno,
Where the night keeps the daylight at bay.
[OOC: Credit to copilot for the lyrics. I'm not a song writer. Even though Shep has no skill in it, either, I judge that his high intelligence should allow him to come up with a version similar to one he may have heard before but customized for Silvereno.]
Re: Rifts - EotC - Silvereno
Before she can spiral, the speakers explode with the DJ’s voice, “Up next is Carry!” As Shep’s grin widens, because timing is everything.
Relief blooms across her face, soft and bright, and she ascends the stage steps like she’s walking into a dream. The audience, small but attentive, turns toward her with that hush of expectation, the kind that makes the air feel frighteningly enchanted.
The music begins, a gentle, slow‑rolling intro that feels like moonlight poured into sound. The DJ’s voice bursts through the speakers, full of pride, “Next up, Carry! One of our rising stars, singing Kiss Me, originally by the ancient classic artists ‘Six Pennies, No Wealthier!’” The crowd claps, whistles, and leans forward.
Carry inhales, finds Shep in the crowd, and her gaze locks onto his like a promise. She begins to sing. Her voice is soft, luminous and romantic enough to make the room feel smaller, warmer and closer. Shep can’t tell if the original song was ever this good, or if Carry is rewriting the universe with her voice. Her eyes stay on him, mesmerizing, pulling him into the moment until he forgets everything except her.
OOC: Save vs using the lyrics as a hypnotic suggestion successful: 17
He tries and tries to rehearse his own lyrics, humming them silently to the tune of Red River Valley, shaping them into something personal, something meant for her:
“From the ash‑covered roads I have wandered,
Through the dust where the old cities lay.
Now I sing of a town called Silvereno,
Where the night keeps the daylight at bay.”
But Carry’s voice keeps stealing his focus, tugging at him like a hand on his heart. Her stage presence, her warmth, the way she sings to him is intoxicating. Before he realizes she’s finished, she hands the mic back to the DJ and practically floats off the stage, arms open and her smile radiant. The DJ claps loudly, “Give it up for CARRY! Wow! Shep is a lucky man!”
The crowd agrees, cheering as Carry wraps her arms around him. The DJ booms again, “Shep, you’re up next! Hard act to follow! He’ll be gracing us with Bright Silvereno Valley! Took some digging to find it, but we’ve got it! Give it up for SHEP!”
Relief blooms across her face, soft and bright, and she ascends the stage steps like she’s walking into a dream. The audience, small but attentive, turns toward her with that hush of expectation, the kind that makes the air feel frighteningly enchanted.
The music begins, a gentle, slow‑rolling intro that feels like moonlight poured into sound. The DJ’s voice bursts through the speakers, full of pride, “Next up, Carry! One of our rising stars, singing Kiss Me, originally by the ancient classic artists ‘Six Pennies, No Wealthier!’” The crowd claps, whistles, and leans forward.
Carry inhales, finds Shep in the crowd, and her gaze locks onto his like a promise. She begins to sing. Her voice is soft, luminous and romantic enough to make the room feel smaller, warmer and closer. Shep can’t tell if the original song was ever this good, or if Carry is rewriting the universe with her voice. Her eyes stay on him, mesmerizing, pulling him into the moment until he forgets everything except her.
OOC: Save vs using the lyrics as a hypnotic suggestion successful: 17
He tries and tries to rehearse his own lyrics, humming them silently to the tune of Red River Valley, shaping them into something personal, something meant for her:
“From the ash‑covered roads I have wandered,
Through the dust where the old cities lay.
Now I sing of a town called Silvereno,
Where the night keeps the daylight at bay.”
But Carry’s voice keeps stealing his focus, tugging at him like a hand on his heart. Her stage presence, her warmth, the way she sings to him is intoxicating. Before he realizes she’s finished, she hands the mic back to the DJ and practically floats off the stage, arms open and her smile radiant. The DJ claps loudly, “Give it up for CARRY! Wow! Shep is a lucky man!”
The crowd agrees, cheering as Carry wraps her arms around him. The DJ booms again, “Shep, you’re up next! Hard act to follow! He’ll be gracing us with Bright Silvereno Valley! Took some digging to find it, but we’ve got it! Give it up for SHEP!”
"I plan to live forever. Or die trying..." Vila - Blakes 7
Re: Rifts - EotC - Silvereno
Shep gladly returns the hug, the lingering effects of her hypnotic singing still humming through his nerves. He gives Carry a quick peck on the cheek as he disentangles himself from her arms. He’s not even sure why he did that. He hasn’t been that familiar with a woman in so long that the gesture feels like a forgotten memory rising from some dusty corner of his memory. For once, the demons that haunt his sleep are nowhere to be found; he’s simply lost in the moment.
He makes his way toward the microphone, suddenly unsure how he’s going to manage the harmonica one‑handed until he notices a stand off to the side of the stage. Setting the mic into a nearby stand, he adjusts it to his height and pulls the harmonica from his pocket. The familiar coolness of it helps ground him...he’s never been much of a singer, but this little instrument has been a lifeline more than once.
He lets the intro play untouched, getting a feel for the rhythm before easing into the first verse he’d rehearsed in his head. The rest, well… he’ll just have to make up as he goes.
As the final sound of the first vocal verse and chorus drift off into the room, he lifts the harmonica to the mic and plays the second verse instead of singing it. His fingers flutter across the back side of the instrument, adding a warm vibrato in just the right places. He lets the final note hang in the air before shifting back into another vocal verse.
There’s a well by the old market crossroads,
Where the traders bring stories and grain.
And the bard songs drift soft through the ruins,
Carried low on the smoke after rain.
He settles into a rhythm—verse then chorus, harmonica then voice—improvising lines as they come to him. He can feel the end of the song approaching and leans into a final chorus.
Oh, remember the town Silvereno,
Where the neon outshines the decay.
May its courage live on in your footsteps,
As you journey the wastelands away.
He plays out the ending on the harmonica, and even after the final track fades, he continues for a few more bars, wrapping the song in the in feeling of hope and endurance—and his own quiet signature.
He makes his way toward the microphone, suddenly unsure how he’s going to manage the harmonica one‑handed until he notices a stand off to the side of the stage. Setting the mic into a nearby stand, he adjusts it to his height and pulls the harmonica from his pocket. The familiar coolness of it helps ground him...he’s never been much of a singer, but this little instrument has been a lifeline more than once.
He lets the intro play untouched, getting a feel for the rhythm before easing into the first verse he’d rehearsed in his head. The rest, well… he’ll just have to make up as he goes.
As the final sound of the first vocal verse and chorus drift off into the room, he lifts the harmonica to the mic and plays the second verse instead of singing it. His fingers flutter across the back side of the instrument, adding a warm vibrato in just the right places. He lets the final note hang in the air before shifting back into another vocal verse.
There’s a well by the old market crossroads,
Where the traders bring stories and grain.
And the bard songs drift soft through the ruins,
Carried low on the smoke after rain.
He settles into a rhythm—verse then chorus, harmonica then voice—improvising lines as they come to him. He can feel the end of the song approaching and leans into a final chorus.
Oh, remember the town Silvereno,
Where the neon outshines the decay.
May its courage live on in your footsteps,
As you journey the wastelands away.
He plays out the ending on the harmonica, and even after the final track fades, he continues for a few more bars, wrapping the song in the in feeling of hope and endurance—and his own quiet signature.
Re: Rifts - EotC - Silvereno
Shep gladly returns the hug, the lingering effects of her hypnotic singing still humming through his nerves. He gives Carry a quick peck on the cheek as he disentangles himself from her arms. He’s not even sure why he did that. He hasn’t been that familiar with a woman in so long that the gesture feels like a forgotten memory rising from some dusty corner of his memory. For once, the demons that haunt his sleep are nowhere to be found; he’s simply lost in the moment.
She tries to lean in for a real kiss, yet, Shep makes his way toward the microphone, suddenly unsure how he’s going to manage the harmonica one‑handed until he notices a stand off to the side of the stage. Setting the mic into a nearby stand, he adjusts it to his height and pulls the harmonica from his pocket. The familiar coolness of it helps ground him...he’s never been much of a singer, but this little instrument has been a lifeline more than once.
He notices Carry's confused, yet expectant expression. Her attempt at a kiss failed and he has no idea that she fully expected him to reciprocate, not resist her mental ability to sway decisions. She finally accepts it, smiles and cheers, "Go Shep!"
He lets the intro play untouched, getting a feel for the rhythm before easing into the first verse he’d rehearsed in his head. The rest, well… he’ll just have to make up as he goes.
As the final sound of the first vocal verse and chorus drift off into the room, he lifts the harmonica to the mic and plays the second verse instead of singing it. His fingers flutter across the back side of the instrument, adding a warm vibrato in just the right places. He lets the final note hang in the air before shifting back into another vocal verse.
The murmuring crowd goes silent as Shep plays the best extemporaneous harmonica like a natural who was born to do this. As he begins singing, he finds himself surprised at how well he sounds using his own natural pitch and tone.
There’s a well by the old market crossroads,
Where the traders bring stories and grain.
And the bard songs drift soft through the ruins,
Carried low on the smoke after rain.
He settles into a rhythm, verse then chorus, harmonica then voice, improvising lines as they come to him. He can feel the end of the song approaching and leans into a final chorus.
Oh, remember the town Silvereno,
Where the neon outshines the decay.
May its courage live on in your footsteps,
As you journey the wastelands away.
He closes the song on his harmonica like he’s sealing a legend; letting the final notes fade, then adding a few quiet bars of his own, a soft coda that feels like hope surviving a storm. It’s not just an ending. It’s a victory lap.
For a heartbeat, the crowd stays silent, leaning forward, breath held, waiting to see if there’s more. Then it hits them as a tidal wave of applause crashes through the room. People leap to their feet. Voices rise into a chant, Encore! Encore! Encore!” as if the performance cracked something open inside them and they refuse to let it close.
The DJ rips off his oversized headset, stunned. Carry’s smile melts into awe, her eyes shining, hands clasped at her heart like she’s witnessing a miracle. The DJ finally snaps out of it, slams his headset back on, and bellows into the mic, “OH my GOODNESS! GIVE it UP for SHEP!”
The crowd erupts even louder, the chant swelling again, a roar of triumph and demand. It feels less like applause and more like a celebration, the kind reserved for heroes who just did the impossible.
She tries to lean in for a real kiss, yet, Shep makes his way toward the microphone, suddenly unsure how he’s going to manage the harmonica one‑handed until he notices a stand off to the side of the stage. Setting the mic into a nearby stand, he adjusts it to his height and pulls the harmonica from his pocket. The familiar coolness of it helps ground him...he’s never been much of a singer, but this little instrument has been a lifeline more than once.
He notices Carry's confused, yet expectant expression. Her attempt at a kiss failed and he has no idea that she fully expected him to reciprocate, not resist her mental ability to sway decisions. She finally accepts it, smiles and cheers, "Go Shep!"
He lets the intro play untouched, getting a feel for the rhythm before easing into the first verse he’d rehearsed in his head. The rest, well… he’ll just have to make up as he goes.
As the final sound of the first vocal verse and chorus drift off into the room, he lifts the harmonica to the mic and plays the second verse instead of singing it. His fingers flutter across the back side of the instrument, adding a warm vibrato in just the right places. He lets the final note hang in the air before shifting back into another vocal verse.
The murmuring crowd goes silent as Shep plays the best extemporaneous harmonica like a natural who was born to do this. As he begins singing, he finds himself surprised at how well he sounds using his own natural pitch and tone.
There’s a well by the old market crossroads,
Where the traders bring stories and grain.
And the bard songs drift soft through the ruins,
Carried low on the smoke after rain.
He settles into a rhythm, verse then chorus, harmonica then voice, improvising lines as they come to him. He can feel the end of the song approaching and leans into a final chorus.
Oh, remember the town Silvereno,
Where the neon outshines the decay.
May its courage live on in your footsteps,
As you journey the wastelands away.
He closes the song on his harmonica like he’s sealing a legend; letting the final notes fade, then adding a few quiet bars of his own, a soft coda that feels like hope surviving a storm. It’s not just an ending. It’s a victory lap.
For a heartbeat, the crowd stays silent, leaning forward, breath held, waiting to see if there’s more. Then it hits them as a tidal wave of applause crashes through the room. People leap to their feet. Voices rise into a chant, Encore! Encore! Encore!” as if the performance cracked something open inside them and they refuse to let it close.
The DJ rips off his oversized headset, stunned. Carry’s smile melts into awe, her eyes shining, hands clasped at her heart like she’s witnessing a miracle. The DJ finally snaps out of it, slams his headset back on, and bellows into the mic, “OH my GOODNESS! GIVE it UP for SHEP!”
The crowd erupts even louder, the chant swelling again, a roar of triumph and demand. It feels less like applause and more like a celebration, the kind reserved for heroes who just did the impossible.
"I plan to live forever. Or die trying..." Vila - Blakes 7
Re: Rifts - EotC - Silvereno
Shep lets the applause wash over him for a moment while holding the harmonica loosely at his side. The chant for an encore is both exhilarating and a little worrisome at the same time. He can’t remember a time when any performance of his ever elicited this much of a reaction, and now it’s happened twice in one night. Then again, he’s never done much public performing in the past—mostly just playing around a campfire or entertaining the kids back home… or what used to be his home. That concept has been a little fuzzy since the zombie attacks.
He turns toward the DJ, giving him a small, appreciative nod.
“I might come back up later,” he says, feeling like he’s smiling like a demented fool who can’t quite control himself. “If I think of another song.”
With that, he steps down from the stage, waving a hand in acknowledgment of the applause. He makes his way through the crowd back to where Carry is waiting. His pulse is still elevated from the performance… or perhaps from Carry’s nearness… but calmness starts to return like an old friend.
He turns toward the DJ, giving him a small, appreciative nod.
“I might come back up later,” he says, feeling like he’s smiling like a demented fool who can’t quite control himself. “If I think of another song.”
With that, he steps down from the stage, waving a hand in acknowledgment of the applause. He makes his way through the crowd back to where Carry is waiting. His pulse is still elevated from the performance… or perhaps from Carry’s nearness… but calmness starts to return like an old friend.
Re: Rifts - EotC - Silvereno
Shep lets the applause wash over him for a moment while holding the harmonica loosely at his side. The chant for an encore is both exhilarating and a little worrisome at the same time. He can’t remember a time when any performance of his ever elicited this much of a reaction, and now it’s happened twice in one night. Then again, he’s never done much public performing in the past - mostly just playing around a campfire or entertaining the kids back home… or what used to be his home. That concept has been a little fuzzy since the zombie attacks.
He turns toward the DJ, giving him a small, appreciative nod. “I might come back up later,” he says, feeling like he’s smiling like a demented fool who can’t quite control himself. “If I think of another song.”
“He may come back up!” the DJ shouts, seizing the moment. “We just need more singers to make that happen!” People rush forward to submit songs, some stopping to tell Shep how great he is.
With that, he steps down from the stage, waving a hand in acknowledgment of the applause. He makes his way through the crowd back to where Carry is waiting. His pulse is still elevated from the performance… or perhaps from Carry’s nearness… but calmness starts to return like an old friend.
Carry meets him with a smile that’s half‑mischief, half‑affection. She slides her arms around his neck, pulling him close, clearly trying to set a romantic tone. Then she leans back, smirking, "How bout you show me something you like."
He turns toward the DJ, giving him a small, appreciative nod. “I might come back up later,” he says, feeling like he’s smiling like a demented fool who can’t quite control himself. “If I think of another song.”
“He may come back up!” the DJ shouts, seizing the moment. “We just need more singers to make that happen!” People rush forward to submit songs, some stopping to tell Shep how great he is.
With that, he steps down from the stage, waving a hand in acknowledgment of the applause. He makes his way through the crowd back to where Carry is waiting. His pulse is still elevated from the performance… or perhaps from Carry’s nearness… but calmness starts to return like an old friend.
Carry meets him with a smile that’s half‑mischief, half‑affection. She slides her arms around his neck, pulling him close, clearly trying to set a romantic tone. Then she leans back, smirking, "How bout you show me something you like."
"I plan to live forever. Or die trying..." Vila - Blakes 7
Re: Rifts - EotC - Silvereno
Shep feels a longing to reciprocate her obvious advances. The warmth and pressure of her arms around his neck, the subtle scent of her, and the lingering effects of her earlier song make it hard to concentrate on anything but her. Her words echo in his mind — “Show me something you like.” He’s unsure whether she means music, a different place… or something more personal. He’s certain she’d be open to any of those, but he suspects she’s hoping for one in particular.
He resists the urge to lean in for a kiss. oO( Too soon, you fool. You barely know this girl… woman… whatever )Oo, he chides himself silently. Instead, he meets her exotic eyes and says loudly enough to be heard over the music, “Maybe we go somewhere quiet where we can talk for a bit.”
He resists the urge to lean in for a kiss. oO( Too soon, you fool. You barely know this girl… woman… whatever )Oo, he chides himself silently. Instead, he meets her exotic eyes and says loudly enough to be heard over the music, “Maybe we go somewhere quiet where we can talk for a bit.”
Re: Rifts - EotC - Silvereno
Shep feels a longing to reciprocate her obvious advances. The warmth and pressure of her arms around his neck, the subtle scent of her, and the lingering effects of her earlier song make it hard to concentrate on anything but her. Her words echo in his mind, “Show me something you like.” He’s unsure whether she means music, a different place… or something more personal. He’s certain she’d be open to any of those, but he suspects she’s hoping for one in particular.
He resists the urge to lean in for a kiss. oO(Too soon, you fool. You barely know this girl… woman… whatever)Oo, he chides himself silently. Instead, he meets her exotic eyes and says loudly enough to be heard over the music, “Maybe we go somewhere quiet where we can talk for a bit.”
Several of the patrons whistle, "You go, Shep!" one of them shouts.
Carry seems embarrassed, even though her blue tone skin hides any obvious signs. She laughs it away, nodding through a euphoric smile, "I'd like that. Lead the way!"
He resists the urge to lean in for a kiss. oO(Too soon, you fool. You barely know this girl… woman… whatever)Oo, he chides himself silently. Instead, he meets her exotic eyes and says loudly enough to be heard over the music, “Maybe we go somewhere quiet where we can talk for a bit.”
Several of the patrons whistle, "You go, Shep!" one of them shouts.
Carry seems embarrassed, even though her blue tone skin hides any obvious signs. She laughs it away, nodding through a euphoric smile, "I'd like that. Lead the way!"
"I plan to live forever. Or die trying..." Vila - Blakes 7
Re: Rifts - EotC - Silvereno
Shep gently disentangles himself from Carry and leads her by the hand for a few paces. He holds the door for her as they step back out into the street, then decides against initiating another handhold. The earlier adrenaline rush is fading, and the old discomfort tries to creep back in—like the quiet ache that settles in after a hard run, his insecurities begin returning to the foreground.
He looks around for a park or someplace quiet where they might sit on a bench and talk in private for a bit.
He looks around for a park or someplace quiet where they might sit on a bench and talk in private for a bit.
Re: Rifts - EotC - Silvereno
Shep gently disentangles himself from Carry and leads her by the hand for a few paces. He holds the door for her as they step back out into the street, then decides against initiating another handhold. The earlier adrenaline rush is fading, and the old discomfort tries to creep back in, like the quiet ache that settles in after a hard run, his insecurities begin returning to the foreground.
He spots a tranquil looking park along the way. Carry smiles, casually walking beside him, kicking the occasional pebble with her heels. She notices an awkward silence, "Shep? What's wrong? We had a wonderful night! One of the... if not the best night I've had in a decade. But you look so sad." She refrains from touching him, as though she already knows...
Even without trying, Shep already knows that she's panicking internally. The feeling of what could be, but not likely to happen, which would only make the situation exponentially more painful. She smiles through forming tears as she waits for him to say it.
He spots a tranquil looking park along the way. Carry smiles, casually walking beside him, kicking the occasional pebble with her heels. She notices an awkward silence, "Shep? What's wrong? We had a wonderful night! One of the... if not the best night I've had in a decade. But you look so sad." She refrains from touching him, as though she already knows...
Even without trying, Shep already knows that she's panicking internally. The feeling of what could be, but not likely to happen, which would only make the situation exponentially more painful. She smiles through forming tears as she waits for him to say it.
"I plan to live forever. Or die trying..." Vila - Blakes 7