2007-02-17: Negative Feedback


Evan_icon.gif Ramon_icon.gif

Summary:Ramon gets a little more spooked when he realizes another telepath is closer than he thought.

Date It Happened: February 17th, 2007

Negative Feedback

//Oldcastle Pub/

Such a fine night for some Jazz. Or at least, a night where Evan gets to shut his phone off to the Users who keep asking the most mundane of questions. The inbound calls doubled when Ramon went on his temporary medical leave, as did Evan's stress levels. However now, they have been washed away with a few shots of whiskey, and his favorite passtime. Sitting up on the stage, with a small upright piano in front of him, Evan just closes his eyes and lets the music flow out of his fingers. It has always come so easy playing with the rest of the group, and tonight, they have quite the foxy singer on stage, swaying her hips back and forth as she sings.

Ramon didn't realize this was his co-worker's pub when he went into it. He just needs a drink, and something normal. He goes to the darkest corner in the pub, and orders the first drink he's allowed himself since college: a cold beer, and a meal to go with it. He'll listen to the music, which he registers as 'not half bad'. He looks tired and grumpy and…paranoid, as he scans every face in the room before sitting down.

The song continues for a few minutes, ending in a quiet trumpet solo, and a bow from the singer. The place erupts in quiet applause before she speaks into the Mic. "We're going to take a little break now. We'll be back on in about 15 minutes." Bounding off stage, the tall woman makes her way to the bar, and gets her free drinks from the bartender and half the patrons.

Evan however, fiddles with the piano for a moment before standing and stretching. He has a headache, which he blames on his work load of course. Casually walking off the stage, Evan waves to a few people, and joins the rest of the band at the bar.
That brings him within range. Ramon's thinking hard: ~What do I do? Maybe I should just turn myself in to them…no, I can't. I can't just leave Benjamin to them, and I can't give up on Catalina's murder. The DA—no, he's a good man, I just…why'd he have to say that~… It all comes, for Evan, with an extremely unpleasant echo effect, like microphone feedback gone wild.

Evan furrows his brows as the words enter his mind. He attempts to ignore them, and carry on a converstaion with a avid fan. The words however, catch his attention, Murder… Benjamin… Catalina? Does he know anyone by those names? Either way, they're making his headache much worse. With a wince, he excuses himself from his lady friend, and goes to find some where quieter. Thinking to himself he shakes his head. ~What ever you do… just pick something and go with it. Don't Lament so much… geeze.~ Though his response is weak, and berely louder than a whisper.

Even weak it causes the feedback effect. Ramon winces and grabs at his skull, knocking over his beer. Amber liquid pools and drips over the floor, and into his lap, but he's not noticing. The next thought is a wordless sort of ~pain!~ registering, and he looks dizzily around the room. Who is he hearing? Who's talking to him? Why does it sound like a horrible sound system?

Okay, he must be going, absolutely insane. Evan doesn't normally respond to the voices in his head, but now he wishes that he hadn't. The wordless pain hits him, almost like a punch and he falls back against the wall grabbing his head. ~just shut up!~ Evan responds back, weaker this time as he feels as if his sinuses are going to explode.

A nose bleeding Ramon looks up and stares. The only other person reacting is…his coworker. "Evan?" He asks, stumbling back from the man and dabbing at his nose with a napkin. Now he reeks of beer. Great. And he only had two sips. He staggers as far back out of 'range' as he can and does what he can to 'think quietly'. He knew other people 'thinking loud' meant he could hear them, but he never thought he had to watch out for himself. Except…nobody's ever reacted like that before.

"Ramon?" Evan replies, wiping his hand across his nose. The blood smears over his lips, but he doesn't quite register its there. "Hey man… er sorry, I've seemed to have some sort of Migraine. Come to see me play huh?" He isn't putting two and two together. Probably because he can barely see though the pain and the dizziness. Carefully, he pulls himself away from teh wall and leans on a table.

"Yeah, yeah I sure did," Ramon says. "Needed a break." Except they're both standing there with nosebleeds. "Looks like the air is a little dry in here, huh?" His Hispanic accent, usually only the vaguest of lilts in his growling tones, is a little stronger than normal, and he chuffs what can only be described as a nervous laugh. Ramon is never nervous, and almost never laughs.

"Yeah.. it gets like this sometimes." Evan says looking at his hand adn teh blood on it. "I get these at least once a week when I play." He notes his odd behavior, but gestures his head toward the door. "Baclcony is out this way… wanna get some air?" Because suddenly, its /loud/ in here to Evan. Too many people talking out loud, and in their heads.

Just keep his mind inside his mind. Ramon's learning to do this, if only to be polite. Usually if someone talks too 'loudly' then he hears them anyway, but in this case he just tries to hold it on in. "Yeah. Yeah sure," he says with a bit of distraction. Evan's nervous too. "How's everything at work?"

Evan leads them both too the balcony doors, where there are only a few people lingering. He takes in a deep breath, and coughs a little as some of the blood in his nose goes the wrong way. "Er.. yeah works fine. Just a little hectic with out ya. I got some of your regulars, and man they were pissy when it wasn't your voice on the line." Evan grins a bit, as he grabs a napkin off a table, and tries to clean up his face. "You feelin better?"

Ramon dabs at his nose and nods his head. "Yeah, I am. I'll be back to work as soon as I can, just have a lot to sort through right now. It's a pain in the ass having just taken on the management role with that kid, too." He folds up the napkin and finally just sort of…tosses it. Cloth or not, he can't imagine anyone wants his bloody napkin. "How's the music?"

"Not bad really.. but I'm probably done for the night. Once these migraines hit I am toast. Though.. I should be fine by the time I have to be into work. Or I'll just telecomute from home. Either way the phone gets answered." Evan shrugs and motions to a waitress to bring him his usual.

"That's usually what I do," Ramon admits. "Its one of the reasons I took the job." It was him. Ramon is sure of it. But one dark, niggling little thought in his mind keeps him from addressing it at all. So he keeps the topics light. "There's a couple of new accounts as I understand it, and they're set to be pretty profitable."

Evan nods his head. "That's good for the company then. But that bascially means a whole load of Newbs coming in and fucking up my Christmas." Evan shrugs a bit, and takes his glass from the waitress. "But yeah, working from home is great. I get some satisfaction that while these idiots are yelling at me? I am in my scooby-doo boxers." He downs the glass in one sip and leaves it on the table for someone else to pick up. His shoulders untense a bit and he seems to relax.

"Evan," Ramon growls, faintly chastizing. "I did not need to know that you like to have a giant cartoon dog nuzzling up to your personal spaces. I really didn't need to know that." This? Is when he decides he needs another beer to replace the spilled one. Right here and now.

Evan grins and gives a light laugh, fitting back into the typical Evan. "Nah, Scooby is on the back. I have Daphne on the front nuzzling my bits." He grins and moves over to a table to take a seat. "Though I am sure our boss will be happy with more money. Sometimes I feel like thats all they ever want out of us."

"Newsflash, kid. That is all they ever want out of us," Ramon snorts. "That's the whole purpose, but we get ours too so it's fair. They own the assets. We use them, we do what they need to do and they pay us. Its the same everywhere and I can't say that it's wrong."

"Perhaps I should've been a Concert Pianist then. I could've been a little more demanding with my pay." Evan grins, showing that he's joking, and quite glad he didn't have to go that route. He hates Tuxedos. "I'm glad you're feeling better though. Sometimes those nuts get to me at RTS. If they weren't paying part of my tuition, I might have found work else where."

A residual headache has started up just behind Ramon's left eye. He drains his beer and puts it aside, then pulls out a couple of crumpled bills to pay for it. "Everyone's job drives them crazy," he says with a faint smile. But…he'd love to be back at working his. Still, he can't say that. "Take care, Evan. Go to a doctor if those nose bleeds keep up."

Evan waves his hand dismissively at Ramon and shakes his head. "You sound like my mother." He grins though and moves from his chair to walk back into the building. He has to tell his backup player that he needs to duck out for the night. "You get some rest to.. so I can get your regulars off my butt."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License