Caellum Matthews/Jamie Madrox (caelrox) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-09-27 06:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | multiple man, phil coulson |
Who: Caellum and open
What: Playing his guitar
When: 2pm
Where: On the strip
Warnings: None
Caellum hated staying in and he hated being bored. Those were just two reasons to venture out to the strip today, escaping the confines of the very small studio. He also needed rent money that he had spent on the guitar, currently slung over his shoulder. He hadn't desperately needed a new one, but when it came to musical instruments, his impulse control was really low. He also didn't have to be at his regular job at Loaded Dice for a few hours.
He looked like a typical musician, walking along Ogden Avenue to Las Vegas Blvd. Long, blond hair hung in it's own haphazard way, as if a brush didn't exist in his life. His ripped jeans complimented the T-shirt with a nondescript design. An unbuttoned, blue shirt covered his tee, billowing open as much as it could from the warm breeze. Sunglasses covered his blue-green eyes as they always did. Cael was just Cael. He never tried to be anything that didn't come naturally to him.
Arriving across the street from Ceasar's Palace, he sat on the back of a bench, feet on the seat. He set a hat down on the ground. He situated the guitar on his knee, stroking the neck with long fingers. Music was his constant, especially after numerous moves, and people who drifted in and out of his life. In every city, there was always music, and Caellum had fallen in quickly on local scenes. Slowly, he tuned the strings, taking great care for one that didn't seem to have a care in the world.
He made several more adjustments until he found the sound he liked and started to play. His focus went straight to the instrument in his hand. This was better than sex, although many nights, the two went hand in hand. Plucking through a few random chords, he settled on a familiar song, and an easy warm up. Although it had been written in days of 70's excess, he just felt it needed to be played in the desert, and a day like this was perfect for Hotel California. The song always drew a crowd, and tips, and today was no exception. Tourists stopped to watch the tall, blonde, who was so absorbed in the song, he really wasn't paying them much attention at all, except to flash a smile once in awhile.
As the song ended, he felt a bit deflated as he always did. Looking around, he noticed some cash in the hat. It wouldn't take long to collect the rent. "I do take requests," he offered the audience that had gathered. It was another good move that tended to generate larger bills.