Who: Jay OTA Where: Ends up in the Rec Room When: Sunday morning What: The Church of Guitar Hero
Ever since Christmas when he and Paige had attended Church together, Jay had been going every Sunday. He'd bind his wings down to his back with harness, put on his best pair of dark dress pants, a white button up shirt and even looped a tie around his neck. A long, dark trenchcoat was worn atop everything. It wasn't put on for warmth so much as it was there to hide any hint of the mutation displayed so prominently on his back. Then he'd walk. Sure, flying would have gotten him there easily, but it wasn't the kind of entrance he wanted to make. Jay would slip quietly into the last pew and listen to the service, appearing as nothing else than a lanky teenager with good enough sense to make it to church on time.
When the service was over, Jay would remain seated, head bowed in prayer until the church had more or less emptied out. Quietly approaching the alter, his head still kept low, Jay would kneel before a stand of small candles. Each votive was housed in a colored cup of glass. Some flickered with light, others waited for the touch of a match. Silently, Jay would reach for one of the long-stemmed matches kept beside the candles, lighting its end with one of the existing flames, then igniting the wick of a new one. His hands would then fold and he'd pray.
He'd pray for Julia. Pray that she knew he still thought about her every day. Pray that she knew how much he missed her and how much he loved her. He'd pray for the strength to keep going, strength of heart and strength of mind. Then, of course, he'd pray for his momma, his brothers and sisters and he'd pray for his friends. Then Joshua would make the twenty-odd minute walk back to the mansion -- often before most of its residents were even awake on a Sunday morning.
He'd return to his room, change into jeans, unbind his wings and slide on one of his new shirts and go forage for breakfast. Also since Christmas, Jay had rediscovered his appetite. All he'd procured from the kitchen was a glass of orange juice and a few slices of buttered toast. He had been planning on heading back to his room, but while passing the rec room, something caught his eye.
Was that a guitar?
Taking a bite of his toast while walking over, Jay's brow furrowed as he followed the guitar's cord from it's seemingly plastic body leading to the entertainment center. He had never played it, but it was a fair guess to say this was the Guitar Hero game he'd heard so much about. Jay smirked a little and set his glass of OJ down on a low coffee table, his toast too. Not bothering with the remotes, he approached the TV and the console and turned them both on. Placing the strap of the guitar controller over his shoulder felt a little on the silly side. It was light and smaller than a real guitar -- like a toy.
Going through the menu, it only made sense that since he played real guitar, he should be an expert on toy guitar. Right? Strum and hit buttons, Jay had the basic idea and he was ready to go. But when the brightly colored buttons came speeding down the screen, there was nothing but the sound of missed notes and the digital crowd starting to turn on the video game band. Jay's mouth hung open a little. How could fake guitar be harder than real guitar?
Sunday was Jean's day to sleep in, now that she didnt' have to get up for her parents. She used that to her advantage, though getting up at eleven did nothing good for her body. She felt hung over, heavy and rolling out of bed with a thump. It wasn't a complete horror to get up this morning but it ranked somewhere up there with cleaning toilets.
It was late enough that she hadn't made it in time for breakfast, thus, she took a great deal of time showering, blow drying her hair and getting dressed. There wasn't any rush to do anything except to get caught up in homework. But she'd cram and do that tonight if she had to. Not yet. The day was still young and the evening was far from her mind right now.
Heading downstairs, headphones over her ears and the ipod in her hand, Jean headed downstairs towards the kitchen with food in her mind. Sporting a lollipop in her mouth, she walked by the recroom, only taking a momentary glance into the room as Jay failed in the video game. Realizing who it was, she backed up, stopped and turned to head intot he room.
"Hey," she greeted him, climbing over the back of the couch and perched up on the backing. It wobbled a little and she thought better then to sit there, sliding into a crouching position to watch him play. Turning down the volume on her ipod, she propped her elbows on her knees, and reached forthe lollipop. PLucking it from her mouth with a suctioning sound, she tilted her head up in that curious manner that also thought she could do better then he did. Of course, she hadn't seen him fumble over the song - just hte last of it.
"Oh you're good. Really good," she commented.
Jay's eyes were narrowed in both frustration and concentration, his tongue peeking out between his lips a little as the buttons clicked intensely. His fingers flicked the strumming mechanism, but it was too little, too slow and too late. The crowd booed him out of the game.
He could play this song on the real guitar. This was a game. It didn't make sense. But now that he had completely failed out, he could turn around and see just who had wandered in to witness his poor Guitar Hero standing. Lifting the nylon weave strap off of his shoulders, he let it dangle off his hand towards her. Jay's shoulders rose and fell in a defeated shrug. "Ah reckon it don't matter if you play real guitar or not with this."
Frustration wasn't her friend and she hardly knew how to deal with it when someone else was battling with it. The booing was something she smiled at, almost laughed about it,but the look on his face made her stop herself. She wasn't mocking him, nor did she want to disrupt whatever he was doing, rather content to watch instead of playing.
She would have liked to think she could do better but when it was offered to her, she played the flat of her hand over it and pushed it back towards him, leaning forward a bit to do so. "What did you expect? To be some rockstar on the first few chords? Try again. I'll cheer you on - even if you suck. I promise."
Reluctantly, Jay slug the guitar controller back over his torso. It took some button mashing to figure out how to back out to the difficulty level. He was in the minority of seventeen-year-olds not hopelessly addicted to video games. But still, he wasn't about to be beat by one. Expert wasn't an option, so he dropped down to medium.
"Ah'd feel stupid on anythin' called "beginner". If this ain't workin'.. it's yer turn." Joshua smiled a little and began to scroll through the available songs, stopping on "Stellar" as made famous by Incubus. "'Kay, Ah really know how to play this one. If Ah fail out here, that's the end of me an' this game."
As the multicolored cues scrolled towards him on the television, Jay's dexterity could manage them better at this pace. There was still the squeaky sound of a missed button every now and again, but the digital crowd had yet to turn on him. The game had a tunnel vision like effect, he could only focus on the little buttons as they came across the screen. But the familiar tune had him singing, albeit softly, along as he played. While the game left his guitar abilities questionable to the current audience, there was no questioning the set of pipes on the Guthrie boy.
She watched him switch back down the difficultly level and nodded, raising her brows, being somewhat impressed that he had it that high. She would have started off as beginner but didn't say that outloud. He didn't need to know it anyways.
His wings were somewhat distracting, and she could have rolled her eyes at herself. Was everyone in this school always goodlooking or was she just getting desperate? So far, every guy has some breathtaking attribute that made her check her forehead for a fever. But they all had weird personalities to go with their physical traits. The red wings stuck out in the corner of her eye, almost as a daunting distraction, making her wonder how he managed to sleep on his back, if he did at all.
"I think if you fail, you need to try again," she mused, popping the lolli back into her mouth and sucking on it. The sweet sound of his singing touched her, and she watched the screen curiously, bitting down on her lollipop. He had a beautiful voice, though faint and probably shy, she said nothing of it. Her mouth tightened and chewed the plastic piece in thought. Okay, not only was he good looking, but he had a voice that could melt butter. Fantastic. She made a mental note never to sing around him, ever.
A good pat on the back seemed approperiate, but she kept her hands to herself. Physical contact was not welcomed, even if she were to give it. "Way to go. Maybe you'll be a rockstar after all." Definitly my hero, she mused to herself, which may have accidently been said in his mind as well.
"Ah.." He paused, brow wrinkling in confusion momentarily. What inner dialogue he had.. suddenly didn't sound much like him at all. It was unexpected and he hadn't exactly caught what had been said -- but it was still a bit of a mental curveball. Jay recovered, with a bit of chagrin. "Ah'll jes' haveta keep mah fingers crossed."
A score of 76% was mildly redeeming after his utter failure. He lifted the guitar off of his frame again, his wings flexing some as he did so, red feathers ruffling. He offered the controller to her for a second time. "A'right, so Ah passed. Now it's yer turn." He said with a feint smile, going so far as to rest the guitar in her lap and take his own seat on the sofa. He balanced upon the arm of the couch because those wings made it difficult to sink into the cushions comfortably.
She hadn't realized she had done it and kept on watching the screen. She was fascinated with his wings and was trying not to show it. The impulse to reach out and stroke the beautiful feathers was instinctive and she linked her hands together making an effort to keep her focus on the game and not his mutation. She nodded faintly as he rose above his own failure. "Not bad."
Though when the guitar was placed on her lap, she was less then keen to do it, but stood up and draped it over her shoulder. "Now watch failure like you've never before." She stepped forward, leaning her knees against the coffe table and picked a random song. Her fingers moved to what cameup on the screen and it looked easier then it really was. By the end of it, she came out with a 52%. "Wow," she commented. "No better then my last math test, here." She pulledthe guitar off her shoulders and handed it off. "Fun but I'm starved," and she needed an excuse to not continuing failing in a video game she wasn't good at. She was such a hipocrite here.
While the buttons clicked away under her fingertips, Jay had reclaimed his half-full glass of orange juice and remaining slice of toast. In typical teenage-male fashion, the toast was stuffed into his mouth in an inhuman sized bite and washed down with a gulp of OJ. Crumbs were brushed off the front of his shirt.
His wings shuddered at a particularly long string of missed notes, the mis-strike noise not unlike a blast of nails on a chalkboard. But he never commented nor teased. He wasn't all that much better at the game -- and that wasn't in his nature.
He took the guitar when she handed it off, but set it down on the sofa. "Ah think Ah'm gonna stick to the stringed-type, thanks. Never was all that good at videa-games." He took another swig from his glass of juice. Jay was still sitting on the arm, his feet resting on the cushions while his wings draped down the side of the couch. "Yer Jean, right?" While there'd been no actual interaction, he was fairly certain she'd been one to leave a comment or two on his online journal.
"In the flesh," she smiled, slipping his headphones off her head. She would have thought those were a dead give away. "It's the red hair isn't it? And I was just thinking of dying it black, just to sport a new look. You know, to make a contribution to our school spirit by representing the gothic community."
As infatuated with his wings as she was, Jean was less inclined to sit around and talk unless she was actually doing something today. Pulling out a hair tie from her pocket, Jean pulled up her hair and without bothering to perfect it, put it up in a pony tail, leaving the ends half in to make a loop at the back of her head. All this done with the ipod in between her teeth, talking to him while she walked out of the room. "oast, ooks ood. Onna ache sum o meye ownnn," she disappeared from the rec room, heading down the hallway as she said behind her. "Coming?"
Once in the kitchen, Jean fetched the bread from the hiding spot and tried to untie the knot that was put into the bag. Mumbling to herself, she sighed, and leaned againt the counter, fiddling with it and tried to use her teeth to undo it. "I don't know why people put knots in bread bags..."
"Well, that an' those." He nodded in her direction as she removed the headphones from her... well... head. "'Cause I reckon those were mine." Jay slid his feet off the sofa and stood to go flick off the television and game system. He was fairly certain he was done with Guitar Hero, happily opting to stick with the actual instrument and real crowds (when that time came again). "Ain't nothin' wrong with red hair though." He didn't have to say that to be nice, he could say out of self-preservation.
When she departed, with a garbled story as to why -- Jay stood there for a moment. He thought he had heard 'toast' but wasn't one hundred percent sure. When her voice ran out from the hall asking if he was to follow.. he remained paused still. Had part of that talking around the ipod been an invitation to go get toast? What that what he'd missed. Well, a refill of orange juice was in order -- as he lifted the glass again to down the rest of his drink.
Jay would enter the kitchen a few moments after her, just in time for the comment about the knotted bread bag. "'Cause it keeps the bread from goin' stale when there's no twist-tie on th'end." He had been eating toast, the state of the breadbag was his responsibility.