savetheearth | 02 ☆ [open action]

Who: Sandy and whoever shows up
When: Tuesday through Saturday, mornings and afternoons
Where: Volcano Girl's, the only music store worth mentioning
What: Come bug this loser at his day job!

Another day, another eight hours and change doing battle over what to play next. It's not actually that bad a job: the pay isn't as good as his old job, but he gets to goof off more often and most of the time he can forget about the fact that he has no idea where his life is going anymore. He can pretend he found the compass in his pocket on the street one day instead of in his hand after nearly passing out earlier in the month.

He can be normal, which is really all he's ever wanted in life.

Volcano Girl's is a pretty decent size for an independent store. There are rows and rows of CDs, new on one side and used on the other. Down the middle are two long rows of vinyl records, similarly sorted, with shelves of band shirts and posters along the side and back walls. Up near the door are the register and a decent-sized billboard, the latter of which advertises upcoming music events of all sizes and is accompanied by a smaller rack of CDs from local artists. Every spare inch of wall is covered in band posters and album art, and the floor is lava-orange. Now who wants to buy some music?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

CDs? Pah. Vinyl records? Closer, but still quite large. Only so portable. That box in the corner, on the other hand...

That box currently has a man combing through it with clear interest and barely-veiled excitement. And he already has a couple of cassette tapes off to the side, ones that look well-worn but seem to have nonetheless caught his eye.

And he's not even halfway through the box yet.

With only the one customer right now, it's one of those weird in-between times when there isn't much to do except inconspicuously keep an eye out in case of shoplifting. But that's boring and never seems to happen when Sandy's working, so he sees nothing wrong with moving over a few feet to see how the old guy's doing.

"Finding anything good in there?"

The old man looks up, a broad smile on his face. "'Good'? Well, if you count not having seen some of these for thirty years..."

Their loss, with them being in the 'bargain' bin. It's almost tempting to buy the entire thing.

Shiro's hunger had been driving him crazy. Ever since his stomach had decided to spontaneously explode and reform or something, the kid had not been able to think about anything other than food. He had to find another activity to keep his mind off things. His guitar was great for that.

But as luck would have it (and his luck is shit-tastic lately!) he broke the strings on his acoustic. Of course. Because nothing could go right ever.

He's munching on beef jerky as he walks in, and browses the shelves for a few minutes. He then goes back to the counter to address Sandy.

"Uh, do you guys carry guitar strings?"

Sandy's never seen an actual albino before, but given the weird getups and variety of people he's seen in his life he's pretty good about not staring.

"Not here, but if you give me a second..." he grabs a thin binder from under the counter, ready to flip it open and find the places near here that could actually help the guy.

Yeah, he's a little weird looking. His paleness is only accented by the fact that he's wearing all black, from his leather Outback hat down to his fancy sneakers.

"Aww, what, really?" Shiro pouts a little, then takes another piece of jerky into his mouth. He blinks, then holds up a hand, "Ah, look, man. You don't have to look anything up for me. It's cool."

It's almost enough to make a guy feel like he woke up in an A-Ha video, but professionalism is professionalism. Sandy doesn't open the binder just yet, but rather than put it back he waves it around like it's some valuable treasure he's willing to negotiate away.

"You sure? We got referrer deals with some places, you can get your strings real cheap."

Shiro laughs a little, taking another bite of his jerky. Yeah, he knows better. But if he's not constantly eating something, well... he's found that he can't really focus.

"Is that so? Well, I guess, if it's not too much trouble."

In the mid-afternoon, a girl in a dress wanders in with the dejected look only a bored teenager can manage. Asuka'd heard of this store mainly through eavesdropping on the more hipster-ish college students around her, but she didn't care about reputation or smaller labels or supporting artists. She was just tired of the crap at the superstores.

That said, she's immediately distracted from her quest for some kind of music incorporating both violins and death metal by the sight of the guy behind the counter.

"Hey, weren't you one of the people in my mirror?" she asked, after quickly assuring herself the store was empty.

What was supposed to be a glorious fifteen to twenty minutes of just Sandy and the store takes a sharp left turn into reality. He looks up from his game of Solitaire and yeah, he definitely recognizes that girl.

"And you're one of the people in my phone. Something I can help you with?"

Every so often, Chris decides these things:

> Maybe she should actually buy some music instead of pirating it... but maybe she can grab a discount from the used bin.
> BAND T-SHIRTS but she has no money BUT BAND T-SHIRTS
> POSTERS
> And maybe she should get back into DJing. HA HA, YEAH RIGHT.

So here she is, with a giant pair of black headphones around her neck (onto which she's recently stenciled the Decepticon logo). She's totally not paying attention to anyone in here yet. And right now she's going through the house and electronica stuff, probably looking for some good drum n bass.

In Sandy's defense, the last time he actually saw Chris they were both dressed for vandalism, so when he comes out of the back room he figures the woman with the headphones is just another customer. Probably pretty into her tunes if she's sporting a headphone necklace, but he'll never get better at the whole music thing if he doesn't put any effort into it so he might as well check on her before rejoining his coworker behind the register.

"You finding everything okay?"

"Hmm?"

She blinks. Hey, that guy sounds familiar. "I mean, yeah, finally found I Choose Noise, but, er, have we met?"

If he didn't recognize her face, well, her voice is certainly distinctive. In that she sounds like an adorable squeaky robot kitten getting run over repeatedly by a Prius.

02 ☆ [open action]

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