2007-04-29: Thank You, Adam Sandler And Drew Barrymore!


Drake_icon.gif Jaden_icon.gif Jane_icon.gif Elle_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif


Jaden gives Omega superhero advice just before he takes off, leaving him to call for police to take the criminals he subdued away and speaks with those police just as Jane steps from a taxi and decides to play guitar for a while. Then she takes him inside, receives a milestone sort of gift, and he meets Elle when she gets home.

Later, after Jaden has gone, Peter visits and shares info from his meeting with Bob Bishop. A video is made, then people are gotten to sing.

Date It Happened: April 29th 2007

Thank You, Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore!

High Rise Building exterior, then the Forrest - Bishop apartment inside it, Greenwich Village, Manhattan, NYC

"Dude, don't go all After School Special on me. You're not even supposed to be here, right now. Do you know what you're doing?" Jaden's already reaching for his cell phone so that he can call the cops. "You're supposed to swoop in, kick ass, give a little witty quip and then swoop out. It's the hero way, man!" Jaden, of course, has watched way too much television in his days.

"I'm not Batman, Jaden." Omega says as he turns his eyes upon the other, staring at him for a moment. "Sides, this world needs a little bit of after school special." With that, he takes in a deep breath, then starts off for the buildings. "I'm a fan of your music by the way, chipmunk. See you at your next concert." His body ripples for a moment, before blinking out of existence as he pauses time long enough for him to leave, and find himself up the side of a building, and into the night.

A cab pulls up in front of the High Rise building and lets out a single female passenger. She pays the driver and extracts her gear, taking time to settle the guitar case and backpack over her shoulders. Turning then toward the structure, in light jacket, vintage Bangles concert t-shirt, dark jeans, and two inch heeled boots, Jane Forrest runs a hand through her hair and walks forward. She's just at the door when it's realized. She's not quite ready to go in, her want is to play a bit more first. Right out here in front of the building. So to ground go the instrument and pack; she extracts the Fender Strat and plugs into her portable amp. Ten, fifteen seconds later, sound is made. Something she's improvising on the spot.

Jaden watches as the OmegaMan leaves and shakes his head. "Damn right you ain't no Batman. You don't even have a cool car." This is said well after Omega's left the vicinity and he's finishing up his call to the police. In the middle of hanging up his phone, he hears some familiar playing. He knows his (non)-girl's music anywhere. Well that and she's right over there. "Hey!" Jaden says, stepping over the muggers and sliding off in her direction with all the style and grace of someone that didn't just almost get mugged.

Non-aware of any such thing happening, Jane just plays guitar. What she's forming off the top of her head is a bit edgy, of a mildly angry metal style. Her eyes are closed, one foot taps out a rhythm, and her head from time to time nods forward. Jaden, it seems, hasn't been spotted yet as sirens and cops approach. These don't even seem to draw her attention away from the chordal crafting at hand.

"Ummmm… Jane? Helllooooo! Hi! Earth to Pussycat! Come in, Pussycat!" Apparently, Jaden's doing his cartoonish antics to try and get her attention. Snapping his fingers in front of her face. Appearing from behind her and peering over her shoulder. Somehow peeking down from the non-ceiling and with upside-down style. In the end, though, he gets no response and is hrming as the cops pull up. "Stay put. I'll be right back." He spins on his heels, "Officers! FINALLY!" Oh lord, and he's off to be overdramatic and tell what happened.

Guitarist in zone, much? That's her. Jane does notice his presence, however, and opens the eyes to flash a smile of greeting, but she continues to work the instrument. A laugh escapes, becoming heartier as he engages in distractory antics, yet remains focused on the sound in her head that wants to come out and… be free, alive! It's only as he moves away and her eyes follow him that she spots the police and has some idea things are perhaps other than calm in the area. Her fingers go still, she takes a few steps to watch and listen while he describes whatever to the officers. Concern starts to filter in. Was he hurt somehow? Was that why he tried to interrupt the process of creation?

"So then this dude, in a mask, which was kinda' ugly really, but whatever. He comes swooshing in like Ben Affleck on Daredevil, right? And it's like BAM! POW! IN YO FACE!" Jaden's mimicking movements that didn't happen, punching at the air and elbowing nothing at all. "And they go down like forty tons of bricks and a fat lady singing. It was crazy cool, man. Crazy cool." Jaden's explanation has the officers looking at him like he's lost his damn mind, but at least they're taking the two perps away. "Oh and he said to make sure you don't get him confused with Batman."

Watching him, listening to him, a grin spreads out and lights up her features. That's him, all right. No seeming injured, he's in full spirits. Her head tilts, though, when he speaks of a masked man taking people down. Huh. The Batman remark causes her to nearly burst out laughing, she puts a hand over her mouth to hold it back, and watches as the two are put into a car and driven away. It's only then she speaks to recapture his attention. "Looking for me, Jaden?" Jane's question is asked in a playful purr.

"Always." Not that he actually was, but he's trying to mack on this particular Femme and he's not going to just let an opportunity like that die. He spins around to face her and kicks his skateboard up into his arms. "I been out here for like a million hours!" His overdramatics are full on as he reaches to throw an arm around the Jane that's not exactly his, but he's working on it. "You know, maybe we should start discussing me getting a key…"

"Yeah," she replies with a laugh as she makes her way back to the case and pack, not moving away from the arm he cast, "I'm sure my roommate would love that. Really love that." Jane bends to put the guitar and amp away, once she has she straightens and picks the items up. "Maybe it's you who should give me a key." Turn the tables? It's her way. "Come in. I'm on the first floor, number 108." One hand reaches to open the door so they can enter the High Rise. "What was that all about?" Her head nods back to where officers took men away.

"Somebody wanted to be a superhero. I let 'em. I know, I know. I'm such a nice guy. But that's what you love about me, right? Right?" Jaden's acting a silly fool, again, as usual. Though he does make sure to close the door as he follows her into the building. He shifts his backpack from one arm to the other whilst reaching out to try and help her with some of her own massive gear. "As for that whole key thing? That's pretty much what I cam over here to talk to you about…" If she'll take a closer look at his neck, she'll see a chain and hanging from it? A key. To Cain Manor.

She doesn't object to the backpack being taken from her shoulder, but the guitar case she keeps in place, as though it could hold the very key to her sanity, and truth be told, often enough it does. That guitar has saved countless windows and other fragile articles from shrieky, shardy deaths since her manifestation and the subsequent personal trials Jane's survived. As the building door closes, she eyes the chain, the key, and his face. "You did, did you?" Curiosity exists, even as she turns away to head down the hall toward a door marked 108. "Do tell."

"Well, it's basically like this. I like you, Jane. Like… a lot. Like… in the Don't Just Want To Dork You kind of way." Jaden probably thinks this is romantic, but at least it's honest, right? "And I'm not saying lets like… I dunno… go steady or whatever. I know this is totally a time consuming process and your biological clock and all that crazy women stuff. I get that." He follows her down the hall and all of that good stuff. "But what I'm just tryin' to say is that I want you to have this. To wear it. So, y'know, in case you ever need something or want to use it… you can."

Her eyes focus on his for a long moment when he's finished speaking, no words being used, and something enters them. Jane's touched, clearly. When she breaks the silence, the words are only two. "Thank you." Her hand lifts to receive what's offered, even though he might want her to turn around instead and lift her hair out of the way; if so she hasn't reached that page yet. "I'm drawn to you," she says simply after another burst of quietude, "not really sure why. Maybe it's that you make me laugh, and you need to be more serious sometimes, maybe we'll pull each other to the center, or even to one side of the other when we need to be. I've got issues, I think you can sense that. But there it is."

"If you got issues, baby, then I'm Hugh Hefner. Cuz I'll be damned if I ain't crazier than a road lizard." Jaden sets her backpack down and reaches up to pull his chain's clasp and get it off his own neck. "Now, I don't want you to think this means I expect breakfast in bed every morning or anything." is explained as he moves himself behind her and to lift her hair and slide the chain around her neck. "Only on Fridays." he teases, with a smile attached. "Seriously, though, just whenever you think you're ready… I'll be here." He lets his hands linger on her shoulders once the chain is clasped behind her neck.

Her head dips forward, to accept the chain as he sets it in place, and she seems to lean back slightly into the hands which remain at her shoulders. "Only on Fridays," Jane repeats with a chuckle, as eyes catch him over one shoulder. Fingers lift the key, she studies it quietly on facing front again, then tucks it under her shirt. She knows where it went, and is certain he does too, along with all the figurative and literal concepts it could put into his head. None of those are commented on, however, she simply steps forward, unlocks the door, and steps through. It's left open for him to follow.

Jaden stands out in the hall for a brief moment, since Jane's not looking and does a quick little jig. It's really fast and turns into the Snoopy Dance before he knows it. A moment passes and he's gathering up the bags and his skateboard to follow her quickly into the apartment. Kicking the door closed with his foot, he starts to set stuff down once he's crossed the threshold. "So you're drawn to me, huh? That's good. That means I'm not totally turning you off by being myself. I should get points for that…"

"I'm not sure if the roommate is home or not," Jane states with a laugh as she steps further inside and heads for the main room. Once there she intends to set her guitar case down and put the instrument within on the empty stand one might easily guess is for it, by that emptiness. Then she turns back to face him, inviting "Make yourself comfortable. Beer, soda, wine?"

You paged Peter with 'Jane's got this thing in her head, that the Company does have some role to play, but it needs watched. Like the Founders of the US would say, there has to be some form of governance, but the governance should fear and work for us, not us for them. Power corrupts, and it seems the case here.'

"Threesome, what?" Jaden pretends like he didn't just say that and moves right along with the following of Jane into the main room. He's already trying to make himself at home by finding some comfortable to sit and getting, well, comfortable. "Uhhh. You wouldn't happen to have a box of Scooby Snacks, would you?" This could be both a test to see if she's compatible and maybe he's just not thirsty! Either way, the answer to this question should be crucially importmant… somehow.

"Sccoby snacks?" she asks, laughing. "Ahh… no. On both questions." Jane finishes putting her guitar on the stand and comes back across the room. "Ohmygod, you found a dog which looks just like the cartoon Great Dane and want me to house, feed him?" Jane has no idea he might want to eat them himself. "Sounds like Elle isn't home," she adds.

Jaden reaches up to facepalm and shakes his head. "Nooooo! See, contrary to popular belief, Scooby Snacks aren't just for dogs. They're for humans too. They're cookies!" He flails his hands around for a second, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small baggie of them and he beams brightly. He holds up the bag and snatches one out, munching on it. "My last stash of the day. S'why I even asked in the first place."

Her head shakes, Jane chuckles again. "I'll look for some of your cookies, then, Jaden." She's amused, and heads for the kitchen. "Milk, then, not beer or soda?" Since he's eating cookies. His humor has an effect on her, this much he can tell. "Any of them chocolate chip?" A clock is glanced at, she thinking Elle might return soon.

Elle arrives once more at home. Key fits into lock and she opens the door, stepping into the apartment. She looks up at the unexpected inhabitant in the apartment, especially since Jane's out of sight in the kitchen. Blonde lifts an eyebrow, considering Jaden.

"They have a Chocolate Chip flavor!" Jaden calls towards the kitchen, just as he finds himself turning his head to meet gazes with Elle. Since she's, well, y'know, managed to get into the apartment. With her key. "Hey uh, Jane? Some blonde chick is giving me 'the look'. I think you should come defend what's yours!" And cue the plastering of a stupid smile onto his face as he just stares back at Elle. "Hi. I'm Jaden. Jaden Cain." Ka-ching.

"They do? Cool," Jane replies, coming out of the kitchen with a glass of milk for Jaden and a glass of red wine for herself. "Oh, yeah, she lives here. My roommate. Jaden, this is Elle. Elle, Jaden." She seems relaxed, in good spirits as she passes by the blonde and heads for a seat. "I'll have to look for some of your favorite cookie next time I load up on food." Milk is handed to him, and her wine is sipped.

And we are spared a timely barbecuing by the sudden arrival of Jane. Indeed, somewhere on that list of "roommate rules" should have been "Do Not Electrocute Strange Men In The Apartment Until You Are Sure They're Not My Boyfriend". But the petite blonde manages to rein in suspicion at Jane's words, and she nods. "Nice to meet you." she offers a faint wave.

There's a rather light knock on the door, and a yong man dressed nicely standing there. If it wasn't for Peter looking pale and nervous, they might assume he's shown up to ask the blonde roommate out for a date. That's not the case, though, because there's something far more haunted than a nervous boyfriend in his eyes.

Some time later in the evening, the roommates are alone again. Jane sits with a quiet smile to her features, sipping that same glass of wine that's nearly empty and having taken his empty glass to the kitchen. Her fingers idly toy with the remote, while she considers partaking of some television, or maybe going for the piano. But the knock distracts her from that decision, she hands the controller off to Elle and moves toward the door. Opening it, she admits the man. "Pete. Hey." And she pauses. "Are you okay? What happened?"

The place's newest inhabitant isn't far off. No wine, though there's a glass of juice not far from her. She's idly looking through a book, before she looks up as Pete knocks, and then is at the door. She stands, tensing up. "What happened." She echoes Jane, immediately tensing up.

Something happened, and they won't have to wait long. Peter steps inside, and waits until they close the door, and focuses his eyes on Elle for a long moment. "I went to see your father," he says softly, voice sounded winded. He probably is winded, emotionally. "And I don't think I'm going to be invited over to family dinner for a while, unless he's planning to use it to put a bullet through my head."

Jane does close the door after him, and listens, leaving him with Elle for a moment as she ducks into the kitchen and comes out with beer. Cold beer! in a bottle, which she hands him, because he so looks like he really needs one right now. Then she's gesturing toward the main room where seats can be filled and relaxed in for this conversation. Concern lights her features.

Elle frowns as she looks at Pete. "I don't think he'd do that, Peter." Because for better or worse, she still has strong feelings for her father. "I'm planning to go talk to him tomorrow. I'll see if I can't straighten things out."

"He'd do that. He reached for a gun under his desk and had it on through most of the conversation," Peter says, taking the beer and sitting down. "And he was thinking it, too. As soon as I noticed the hate in his eyes— and the way he was grasping under the desk, I started listening to his thoughts. Probably the only reason he didn't— is because of you." Opening the bottle as he says that, he downs a rather deliberate gulp. "Hopefully you'll do better than me," he says.

Damn. Jane does take note of what Pete shares, but doesn't say anything, having not been addressed, as she moves into the main room and sits to take up her wine glass again. It remains much the same, she hearing what's said unless they speak so as she can't without trying to, and remains silent unless spoken to or feeling she has something to add of value.

Elle looks tense. And for obvious reasons. "I'll talk to him." she repeats. "We'll get everything sorted out." She believes that. She has to.
"I told him you weren't leaving the Company— and that I wouldn't try to take you away. I don't think he believed me, though," Peter adds, glancing towards Jane as she sits down. There's only so much he can think to say— but… "I won't stop you if you want to go to him to try and find out what happened to you— but be careful. I did make it very clear that I wouldn't work with him… or work against him. As long as you're in the Company…" at the last part, he looks towards Elle again.

She's still interested in meeting him, but it's kept to herself, the wanting to ask directly where she now stands, if she can expect visitors to edit her memories again and plan to fight as hard as she can before they get her. Jane decides still the time will come later to ask for details on the meeting, regarding what was said and how it was uttered. Her imagination fills in blanks for the moment, she's almost picturing Bob as eight feet tall with an M16 pointed at Pete.

The blonde thinks about it a moment. "Well…I'm going to want details on what happened. And we should take precautions too. Some type of video log or something that we can use…in case my memories get messed with again."

"When he reached for the gun— he accused me of reneging on the deal. Of using it to stall him for time so I could talk you in to leave the Company," Peter explains to Elle, answering her request for details, and Jane's unspoken one. "In a way, I probably was. Didn't intend to make you leave, and you were probably the only person who could talk me into going along with the plan, but— it always— terrified me what he would ask me to do. It probably is my fault," he says, taking another drink from the beer. He'll leave out some of her father's thoughts, besides— well… "He wanted to kill me. Don't know if I could have stopped him, either…. And then he told me to break up with you…" He flinches a bit as he says this, adding on, "He thought I was… using you. Womanizing— that sort of thing…"

When Elle speaks of making a video record, Jane stands swiftly. She crosses to the entertainment center and pulls out the video camera, already connected to the HDTV so the image will show there too, and next gets the tripod. She sets the device atop this and aims it so the couch is shown onscreen, adjusting the angle so it'll be clear no one on the record was restrained in any way, or compelled, she intends for it to be unmistakably made of their own free will. The need for ironclad proof is remembered and provided for. She hopes.

Elle frowns. "I'll talk to him." Yes, she repeats it again, but it's her mantra right now; it's what she's clinging to for some hope of resolution…that talking to him about this might somehow bring about some kind of resolution. She looks to Jane. "Recording the conversation?"

"I told him I wouldn't," Peter says to her, looking over at her, and then towards the camera. It's not his favored method of memory restoration, but it makes sense. Aware he's being recorded, he still looks directly at the blonde girl and says, "I love you, and I didn't go to see him— to see your father— to get told I had to give you up. He said he'd allow it— if I came in with you, checked in every day, worked beside you— but I can't do that either. I'm sorry." There's a pause, and he glances towards Jane, and the camera, hesitating for a moment. "I was… trying to get your locket back. The locket I gave you. He doesn't have it, though, so I'm not sure where it is, but he was furious it hadn't been given to him. Maybe he was just furious all around."

"It's not recording yet, Elle," she answers, "just ready to be whenever you want. And set up so you can see you're not restrained or coerced in any way, hopefully if we need to use it it'll constitute suitable proof for your concerns. We should make five copies, or more, and farm them around so at least one quickly comes to you if needed. It can also be made into a computer file and transmitted through email attachment." She pauses, before adding "What gets recorded on it about you is your choice." Thank you, Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore, for 50 First Dates.

Elle nods. "All right." she says. "Go ahead and start it recording, Jane, please." She answers her roommate, and looks back to Peter. She reaches out and takes his hand, and squeezes it. "We'll figure out a way."

Oh, not recording yet. Peter feels a little embarassed, as he'd been assuming it had been… but he looks back towards Elle and nods, allowing her to take his hand, and pulling it up to his face, so he could rest his cheek against the back of her hand. "We'll figure it out… I owe you a rollercoaster ride," he reminds, smiling lopsidedly, his first real smile since he stepped into the apartment.

Nodding once, she glances at the couch and speaks quietly, an instruction of sorts. Hands in clear view, so we can all see there aren't any weapons or restraints in use here. Basically, Elle, this should look the way you'd need it to for convincing you of the truth in it. She watches, giving them time to adjust accordingly, before starting the record. A red light goes on with the press of a button, and at the top left corner onscreen is the red REC indicator. She then goes to take her seat and be obviously non-threatening in the image.

Elle swallows hard, and looks over at the camera. "Hey." she says, addressing the camera. "If you're seeing this, then someone is showing it to you in an attempt to help you remember things that the Company has blanked from your memory, courtesy of the Haitian. This isn't the first time this has happened, far from it. It's been happening all your life since you were nine. Back in February, you snuck in and checked out your file, and found out what they'd been doing to you. No one at the Company knows that anymore, so hopefully they won't wipe THAT part."

She pauses, then continues. "This is Jane Forrest, your roommate, and Peter Petrelli, your boyfriend. You can trust both of them. Someone already had the Haitian wipe Peter from your memory once; the chance is there that they might do it again." She looks stressed. "They're not going to let you leave. The Company, I mean. Somehow you've got to find some way to balance having a life and doing your job. But they're not always right. They're not always infallible. The times they've wiped you. What happened with Matt. They're not going to be able to take everything…not and have you still be functional. Think back to it, remember it. You have to find some way." She nods to Jane, apparently done with her little speech.

At Elle's words, Peter takes in a slow breath, watching here most of the time, before glancing towards the camera and giving a hint of a sheepish smile as he's declared a boyfriend. The expression turns sad again when the previous mindwipe, is mentioned, as well as the fact it could happen again. The mention of a Matt, though, earns a glance, and raised eyebrows. It's pretty clear he knows nothing about this. Or he's a good actor. Who's Matt? Taking a slow breath, he holds onto her hand again and says, to her and the camera both, "Even if they erase me from your memory twenty times… I'm not giving up, I promise."

When it's Jane's turn, she speaks clearly and calmly, despite the expression to her face which shows she's not so calm to be discussing the subject at all, a thing which a future amnesiac Elle Bishop might pick up on, that this woman she called Jane Forrest seems to identify personally with memory removal. "It's the twenty-seventh day of April, 2007, and you're at Apartment 108 in the High Rise Building, where we live, Greenwich Village, New York City. This is about being in command of your life as best you can, no matter how many times we have to do this." With that, she goes quiet, a glance asking each of the two if they have anything to add before she rises to stop the recording.

The blonde squeezes Peter's hand when he takes it, and she looks back to Jane. She has nothing to add, and she shakes her head. "That's kind of creepy." she states. "Just the need to do something like that."

Taking a slow breath, Peter looks towards the camera, "If I'm being forced to watch this because I've had the memory wipe happen to me… I've already told a few people, but go home to— to your apartment and find a few things, anything connected to what was taken, and hold onto it and consentrate. If you still remember— psychometry. Emotions and memory both. May take whoever still has their memory to tell you what to hold onto, but— I'll make some notes about what might carry what memory, and leave it— I don't know," He tries to think of a good stash spot… "In one of the art gallery books."

"It's beyond creepy, needing to do this," Jane remarks. "It's infuriating. Just to think of going through that… it makes me twitch, like a scream is coming on. Jane Forrest, you've had it done to you too. If it happens again, well, you aren't now and you never have been addicted to drugs. It was just made to seem you were. You got dosed, somehow, with enough to make you spend three days in cold turkey hell, when memories were taken from you." And she's done then. When she crosses the room, buttons are pressed to stop the recording. The memory device it's on is pulled from the camera and placed into the computer while she proceeds to duplicate the file onto several others and store it on the hard drive too.

The blonde looks a little upset, and tries to dismiss the bad mood. "Well, now as long as I don't fry people on first sight, I think we have a plan on our hands." She looks back to the other two. "Thanks."

"Well, you can fry me on first sight if you need to," Peter reminds softly, reaching over to hold onto her hand, trying to help her will away the bad mood if he can. "I can take it," he adds, bringing her hand up to his mouth to kiss her knuckles and force a smile. "I'm gonna hope it doesn't come to that, though. It's pretty painful."

Once she's finished with the details on computer, or seems to be, Jane stands. Filled with purpose, as if she needs to do something, be busy, she stalks over to take up her favorite guitar. Eyes go to the others, then she pulls out lyric sheets for upbeat rock tunes. Happy stuff, to chase away the gloom. "Either of you sing?" They're extended for the taking.

Elle looks back to Jane at the offer. "I haven't?" she says, looking to the lyric sheets. "I mean, there's not exactly a band at the Company." She smiles at Peter's attempt to cheer her up. Doing her best.

Taking the sheet that's meant for him, Peter glances at it and has to admit honestly, "Not well. I've sang happy birthday and stuff like that, but I definitely can't read notes or anything…" Doesn't mean he can't attempt to wing it. It just may end up being bad and laughable.

The song on the sheets is a very upbeat piece, from the 80s. Men At Work, called Down Under. Jane's foot taps and she counts in. One, two, one two three four. Fingers hit the first chord, and we're off. She nods toward the others ten seconds in as a cue to start the lyrics, seeming to laugh a little. This is coping with stress, MJ Forrest style.

Elle looks at the sheet. She can't read music, certainly, but she has a surprisingly good voice and a lot of natural talent, as she takes a deep breath and her voice rings out clear as a bell.

In comparison to his girlfriend, Peter isn't exactly the most prized singer in the world. It doesn't mean he's terrible, but he should probably stick to birthday songs… and after a while he just stops trying and listens to her sing. She's a lot nicer to listen to anyway.

As she plays, providing cues to when the lyrics come in and go out with movements of her head, Jane seems impressed by Elle's voice. She tries not to insult Pete, but may well do so anyway: she encourages both to let loose and have fun, not worrying over it, but she can't completely hide believing the blonde is better at it. Here and there her own voice joins in. "… Buying bread from a man in Brussels, he was six feet four and full of muscles. I said do you speak-a my language? He just smiled and gave me a vegemite sandwich…"

The blonde hasn't heard the song before, so she's just a little behind on the cues, but she's doing her best. No training, but natural talent helps out. She looks over, realizing Peter's stopped, and her own voice dies out, looking embarassed. Singing with people is one thing. Singing while people are watching is another.

Clearing his throat, Peter reaches over and touches her hand. "Sorry," he says sheepishly, then clears his throat and tries to start singing again, even if he has to sing alone at first. Was watching to listen really so wrong? If so, then he'll keep doing it, because he'd rather listen to her than sit in silence. Actually, he doesn't recognize the tune either, but hey, it sounds funny.

She can solve that, easily enough, she believes, by lending her own voice to the mix along with Elle's and hopefully Pete's too. Once Down Under is done, Jane moves to the piano bench and lifts it, inside are collections of sheet music and separate printed lyrics for rock tunes going back all the way to the late 50s with Chuck Berry and others. Her fingers search through, and finally come up with something most people know, nice and upbeat with some scorching guitar bits too. Queen. We Will Rock You/We Are The Champions. Word sheets are handed out to them, and she prepares to launch into it.

Elle looks over. "I don't know how to read music." she points out. "I haven't even heard a lot of music." But she looks to Peter. If he's going to sing, she'll do the same, and follow him just a bit behind.

There's a quirk of a single eyebrow, the right one, in response to her pointing that out. Peter doesn't quite have the heart to tell her how good she is /without/ lessons, so instead… he just keeps singing. At least when they get to Queen he /knows the songs/. Hey, he was a hockey fan. Can't be a hockey fan and not sing these songs many, many times.

They were chosen, after all, not just because they're so well known, no, but also for the sheer power of them. The defiance, the determination to outlast all opponents and be the one left standing. Jane's moving into frontwoman mode, her voice seeking to inspire the others joining in and following along. The first starts basically a capella, she thumps her foot twice on the floor and claps hands once to set the rhythm. "Buddy you're a boy, make a big noise, playing in the street, gonna be a big man someday. You got mud on your face, big disgrace, kickin' your kind all over the place. We will, we will, rock you! …"

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