13536/Even the Homecoming Queen cries

Even the Homecoming Queen cries
Date of Scene:	21 June 2021
Location:	Club Evolution, Mutant Town
Synopsis:	Mr. DaCosta finds a ragged-looking Shannon crying on stage at Evolution. He offers a listening ear, and a bit of hope in the form of Seraphim Studios.
Cast of Characters:	Nightingale, Sunspot

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Nightingale has posed:
     It was a quiet, early afternoon in Club Evolution. Most patrons hadn't even begun to trickle in, and some staff was just getting set up for the late afternoon/evening rush. It was mostly quiet, with the normal hustle and bustle of the club forming a sort of familiar, almost soothing background ambience. Chairs scraping as they are drawn into place near tables, dishes clattering in the back kitchen, glasses clinking as they are wiped down and put away by the bartender.

     And there, perched alone on the edge of the stage, is a familiar winged figure, with only a guitar in her arms. Her wings look a tiny bit ragged and worse for the wear, and they droop behind her. Her face is mostly hidden as she bows her head, looking down at her hands while she plays. Her voice is soft, cracking in places as she sings softly....

"Yeah, what if I told you the sky wouldn't fall
If you lost your composure, said to hell with it all?
Not everything pretty sparkles and shines
And even the homecoming queen cries...."

     Her voice trails off, and her hands become still on the guitar, the singer silenced for the moment....

Sunspot has posed:
Roberto Da Costa sits at the bar, sipping a Jamaican cola, eatting a house burger with a side of the potato skins Ola. He munches contemplatively, though in an unfocused way until the bartender catches his eye and nods towards the stage. Berto blinks and turns to face the winged figure taking in all the subtle cues. He plays back the song in his head and frowns, picking up the napkin and wiping his hands. He nods to the bartender towards the fridge and grabs a cheerywine soda. Berto walks over to the stage and sidles up to Shannon, "You have a future in the blues, Anjo, very few white girls have such soul." He offers with a small smile, placing the opened bottle of soda in the space between us.

Nightingale has posed:
     Looking up at Mr. DaCosta, Shannon blinks back the mist that's gathering in her eyes, sending a few crystalline droplets trickling down her face. She's wearing a pair of cutoff denim shorts that reach to just above her knees, her daisy-toe flip flops, and a plain white t-shirt tucked modestly into the waistband of her shorts. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail in deference to the hot weather, save for one thin braid left dangling on the left side of her face, dyed an impossible glacier blue just a shade or two darker than her eyes, with three little silver beads threaded on the end. "Thanks," she says, her voice just audible. "That song's actually moving up the country charts, though. It's one I wrote."

     The cheerwine soda at least elicits a small smile from her, the young woman setting her guitar aside with care next to her, and reaching for the soda. "Thanks, Mr. DaCosta... raided Sam's stash of these, did you?"

Sunspot has posed:
Roberto Da Costa smiles as he watches you and nods, slowly, "That is not surprising, blues, country and rock are far closer step children that any of them would readily admit." He stops and watches you, Berto is is well dressed as always tailored suit pants and vest, white shirt crisply pressed, and a tie. Shoes a high polish, socks matching his suit. He looks every inch the young executive he is and the choices of attire only highlight the minimal age gap between these two, making what should be a burbling brook into a yawning chasm. He laughs, "Sam's stash?" Berto shakes his head, "I will tell him it went to a worth cause. Laying aside the issue of you musical talent because I would like to chat about that at some point. I do have ideas. But, laying that aside, how long has it been since you slept?"

Nightingale has posed:
     "A few nights," Shannon admits, taking a healthy swig of the cheerwine, her legs swinging idly back and forth over the edge of the stage. "Ever since Ted got that chance to go off and put his gifts to use helping the Peace Corps, it's just been... it hasn't been the same." Tilting her head back, she closes her eyes, going silent for a long few moments, her wings idly moving back and forth, wingtips dusting the floor of the stage. "How come it always happens, when I let myself really care about someone, they always leave? Somehow, sometime, they always leave...."

Sunspot has posed:
Roberto Da Costa nods and hands you a freshly laundered handkerchief from his pocket. Roberto considers that, frowning, he does make a note to increase his donation to the peace corps as a mutant friendly organization but he doesn't say anything like that. Instead he slides a bit closer and lets you rest against him if you chose, "I'm sorry, Anjo. But this is hardly the end, not for you, not even for you and Ted... I know that there will be one who doesn't leave. You just need to trust yourself and trust your heart."

Nightingale has posed:
     Accepting the handkerchief, Shannon makes good use of it, dabbing at her eyes, and sounding a bit like a foghorn as she blows her nose. "I hope you're right," she finally manages to reply. "I want to think you're right. It's just kind of hard to see when it's happened a lot." Glancing down at the handkerchief, she wrinkles her nose, and chuckles a little. "Ugh. I'll wash this out for you when I get back to the school." She does allow a hug, leaning into it slightly, glad for the comfort of a friend.

     "What was that you were saying about music, though....?"

Sunspot has posed:
Roberto Da Costa smiles and nods, "Trust me I hear you, it's not easy when there's no one in sight and the track record is pretty dismal across dimensions and galaxies. Not a problem, you can keep it." He lets the hug linger as long as you like and nods, "Right, well, I had been thinking that X-Corp is going well and doing what it set out to do, in most areas but there are a number of mutants and high profile mutants working in more artistic fields. Area where X-Corps skillset doesn't translate well if at all. So, I thought we might expand, or diversify. I wanted to open up a Studio, incorporating music but not limited to it. Embracing all aspects of the arts, Music, dancing, the theater, visual arts, everything. I was going to ask you and Jay to be some of the talent, see if Warren would come on in leadership, I thought Piotr would be a good choice for overseeing the more traditional visual arts crowd. We could call it Seraphim Studios, not everything needs be X-related, right?"

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon's eyebrows loft, and she turns her head to look up at Mr. DaCosta. "An entirely mutant-friendly arts studio? I like the sound of that. Starlight kind of gave me my start, though. I don't have an agent or anything, though." She bites her lower lip, thinking for a few moments. "Next time I run into Jay, I'll put the idea to him and see what he says. Might be just the thing to help start pulling him out of his slump."

Sunspot has posed:
Roberto Da Costa nods, slowly, "Well, the idea would be for Seraphim to be involved in all aspects, representation, distribution, booking, brand management, giving support and mentorship to our clients. Eventually perhaps you would emerge from the umbrella to do you own thing buut there would always be space for you with us."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Sounds like it might be a pretty good idea. I'll definitely ask Jay about it and get his thoughts. Seraphim Studios, huh?" Shannon allows herself a small smile, thinking for a few moments. "What inspired the name? And I bet once word gets out that there's a studio like that willing to help mutants find their footing in the arts, you'll have folks beating down the doors wanting in."

Sunspot has posed:
Roberto Da Costa smiles and shrugs, he reaches over and does a little tending to your wings, "Seemed fitting, you, Warren and Jay, also the music industry is always seen as inline with the darker elements, thought it was a way to set ourselves apart, say that we were not like the others. Aligning oursleve with the higher angels as it were."

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon holds still as her wings are tended to, but at this point they are a bit of a mess that only some good, solid rest will really help. At least, though, the brief bit of preening straightens some of the feathers out, so they don't look entirely so ragged as they were before. "Yeah, that makes a lot of sense, actually. I like that idea. It'll be interesting to see what sort of artists the name attracts."

     As she finishes her cheerwine, she seems at least in slightly better spirits, though the sugar rush from the soda is not likely to last for very long at all. "I should probably head on home and turn in early tonight. I promise if I can't sleep again tonight, I'll go see Dr. McCoy about it, okay?"

Sunspot has posed:
Roberto Da Costa smiles and nods, he offers you his hand, "Yes, I'm going to walk you outside and get you a car, than I am telling the floor manager that you are not allowed back until you look like your had your rest. Otherwise I will lock you in my office until you sleep, okay?" He nods, "You are too tired to fly."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Ack! Okay, okay, I'm going!" Shannon allows Mr. DaCosta to help her off the stage, trying to chuckle a little bit at what she thinks is his joking about his office. She turns about long enough to stow her guitar away lovingly in its case, closing the lid and flipping each catch shut with a little -snap-. "Thanks for calling a car. You're right, I don't think I could fly back like this. And... thanks for listening. Just got to work through things, you know?"