Re: Near the Front Door: Dante & Mars
Back at Hailsham, Mars had thought of music only as one large, pleasant category. But now, living out in the world, she'd realized that there was more than just the basic, if not biased, categories of good music and bad music. Now there were a whole galaxy of sub-genres to familiar herself with, from rockabilly to witch house to... angry feminist power-pop, apparently. Mars stared blank-eyed wonder at the other woman while trying to wrap her head around all of those unfamiliar words. "Uh huh."
"Oh, tell them, I don't want them feeling like they got away with it." Shitty music was the downfall of any party. Perhaps not the parties where goers were foaming at the mouth and optically bloodshot, but this clearly was not the type. Which was a shame, it could of at least made for fascinating people watching.
"I like instrumental shit. You know, haunted house soundtracks mixed with a good drum and bass. Something with a real vibe. As the kids used to call it, a banger." The offer of food was somehow friendly enough, and Mars shrugged a little. "Do they have something laden with sugar, enough to put me into a coma?"