Marvel: In the Beginning...
Log Title:Who is the Ho?
Summary:After band practice - not band camp - Race and Anessa get to know each other a little better.
Players:Race, Anessa
Location:Recording Studio and Anessa's Apartment

The band played hard to practice for upkeep of abilities and also to talk about a concert tour with the release of their 2nd CD. There are fill-ins that handle the drums, and backup guitar. When practice and socializing is over, people start to split. Race seemed distracted when not playing the music, so during the talk of a 'tour'. Rose kept climbing over him, messing with his hair and poking at him until he hauled off and actually smacked her bottom so hard the room not only heard it, but the people in the hall from the sitting room heard Rose's yelp! Rose spent the rest of the time pouting, and Race appeared grumpy.

In either case, Race is currently in the foyer with his guitar on his back in a black leather case. He shooves some coinage into a soda machine and gets a 20 oz. Pepsi.

Anessa is one to work as hard as the next person, sometimes harder - when it comes to her music. Still, Race's mood feels like a dark cloud over practice. She tried to ignore most of it, but the hard slap to Rose's butt - even if she /did/ deserve it - seemed a little excessive. She bit her tongue for the moment, after all, it was a blessing that she managed to get in with the band in the first place.. but as soon as rehearsal was over, she planned to catch up with him to share a few words.

She was careful with her keyboard when wrapping things up, but she was quick about it, and headed out to the hall where she saw him go. She spies you at the soda machine, and luckily she has some change in her pocket for an excuse. She digs it out and moves to stand behind you to wait for her turn.

Not quite sure what to say, since she's never spoken socially with you, she clears her throat to buy a few seconds time to think of something. "Things okay? You seem to be in a pretty sour mood."

Race didn't mess up during music practice, though he wasn't as bossy during it as usual. It was the business talk that it was obvious. The young man blinks at you, then shrugs, "Ya, things are fine," he says quietly. He uncaps the soda and takes a swig of it. "Just got a lot going on. A tour is important right now, just don't like the thought of leaving the city." The drink is swirled before he takes another drink and starts to head for the door. "Don't worry about it, the band comes first." Meaning, Race will do it, hesitations or no.

Anessa puts her money in, punching the lemonade button a little hard. She snatches it up and heads back to fall into step beside you, if she can. "Listen, I know Rose can be a little much sometimes, but I've never seen you so hard on her before." There's evident concern in her voice and expression. "If there's anything I can do to help take the load off a little, you know you can count on me."

"Look girl," Race says slowing up after he exits out to the street. "Thanks for your concern, or whatever it is. Rose and I have known each other for years, we will be fine. She was trying to pick on me for revenge cause I haven't been home with her lately. She just didn't realize how much it would piss me off today, she will forgive me when she had time to cool down, no biggy. Don't worry about her." So...apparently they live together? Perhaps the rumors are true! "Shit, it's hotter than hell." Another drink of pepsi is taken as Race looks toward the too bright sky and squints.

"You know.. whatever." Anessa shakes her head. "I was just trying to help." She throws her hands up, turning back toward the studio. "I'll just get my things together and head back to my apartment." She remembers the lemonade in her hand and twists the top off and takes a swig.

Race looks back over at you, "I don't know if you are trying to help or be nosy. People don't do nothing without a reason. I just look at it this way, we are all in a business contract. Respect each other in that compacity. The band comes first. It's that simple, don't take it personal." He sounds serious, and he never once has risen his voice. Then again, he never does. "Need help with your gear?" The closest you will get as an apology or truce from Race.

Anessa pauses with her hand on the door, and looks over her shoulder. "No.. of course they don't. If you don't want help.. that's fine." She lifts a shoulder in a half shrug. "You know when I'm here, I'm here to work, and I give 110 percent so.." She shrugs, taking another swig of her lemonade. "Oh.. shit." She grumbles to herself, a frown creasing her brow. "With everything that happend, I completely forgot the card." She mumbles to herself. "Hey.. think you could drop by my apartment? Do you remember that party I went to, to rub elbows and all that? I got a business card from some reporter, editor, something or other for a big music magazine. Might be something good for us if you want to give her a call. I left the card back at my apartment."

"Shit, you should have given that to Manager!" But boy, is Race sounding interested, and a little more high pitched than normal, but still low. "Anyway, I don't have a car," they aren't practical in the city. "But I'll travel the subway with you and help you carry shit." He goes to walk after you to go back inside and help get your stuff. "We can perhaps get the regular band members together for some sort of interview if the reporter is interested."

Anessa prepares herself for a pissed outburst, and is more than a little surprised when you focus on being more interested. She doesn't bother to elaborate on /why/ she forgot. "Sounds good." She pulls the door open, holding it for you, then following you in. "I packed my things up already, just need to grab and go." She crosses the floor, hefting the case for her container.

Race lifts the bag for your stand, and anything else you need carried and goes to leave with you to walk to the subway. He doesn't say anything for right now, just seeming sorta quiet. Though as the two reach the subway, and he pulls out his subway card, "What stop?" A social Race would likely shock you out of your socks!

Anessa gives you the name of her stop, switching the case from one hand to the other. "It's not too far from here at least." Anessa doesn't try to make conversation with you either. Her experience is that it's not usually successful, so why bother.

Sad but true. Unless you talk about something Race is actually interested in. But Anessa only knows one of those topics: music and the band. She doesn't know about the others. But as the two get onto the subway you can hear Race humming some strange, awkward tune softly to himself. In reality he is learning how the subway works, though he already knows. It is just a habit to renew his knowledge.

Anessa casts a sideways glance over at you, now and again, but says nothing. When her stop comes up, she makes headway through the crowd to a semi-open space to wait for you to catch up, then leads the way toward her apartment complex. Once in awhile, she looks over at you to gauge your reactions. She has to set her case down to unlock the door to her apartment, leaving it open after she crosses the threshold, moving over to set her case where she usually keeps her keyboard set up for practice. "I know I set it over here somewhere." She heads to the kitchen counter, shuffling through the few bits of mail. "Aha! There you are." She says triumphantly, holding up the business card. "I'd completely forgotten about it after..." She shakes her head. ".. but I'm glad I remembered it. I hope she remembers me. Apparently she knows Mr. Stark. Maybe the manager will ring a bell with her memory if he mentions that I was the one who was with him and Steve Rogers.." She wrinkles her nose. ".. I think that was his name.. the night of the party."

A nod comes from Race as he sees this place, "Nice place...wonder if they have apartments open." Race is thoughtful. He reaches out for the card and looks it over. "Alright." He then pulls out his cell phone after setting your stuff down and goes to texting all the information on the card and what you gave him over the cell to the Manager. "Steve Rogers right?" He doesn't seem to care at first until..., "Wait, Mr. Stark?" A wrinkling of his brow. Then again, he did hear about Stark being at that party, but thought it was just rumor as he didn't see him there. "What was he like?"

Anessa chuckles, setting the card back on the counter after you send the information. "Well, he's handsome. I guess you can call him charming." Her eyes light up, dancing with amusement. "And, he doesn't dance half bad." She leans back against the counter. "Plus, I managed to get home with everything intact." Though she wasn't completely intact the whole evening.

An eyebrow raised, "Umm...I don't think I want to know." But soon the phone vibrates and Race looks down. He texts back and then slips the cell phone away. "He's a womanizer, but I suppose if you don't care you can use him for free publicity for the band." He doesn't pressure, he leaves it up to you. Race wouldn't do it personally! But doesn't mean you might not.

Anessa smiles. "Personally, after that night, I'm beginning to wonder if he's really all his reputation has painted him to be." She rolls her shoulders. "But, like you said, if hanging out with him could help the band.." She leaves the sentence unfinished.

"Not our fault if you get ravished though," Race clarifies. He then mmms a bit, "Ravishment." He isn't thinking about you when he says it though! But a lop-sided smile appears on his face briefly before disappearing. He is really thinking about John a.k.a. Ares. "Guess there are worse things, not like Mr. Stark isn't an attractive fellow. Least all the women say so. Rose drools over him." He isn't Race's type though.

Anessa laughs. "Oh.. that's all right. I've got my hands full enough as it is." She rolls her eyes slightly. "Trying to keep Gambit at bay.. he seems more like a womanizer than Mr. Stark is reputed to be.. and getting into.." She shakes her head, not elaborate that particular thought. ".. with Clint." She might have shared more, if she /knew/ you were a girl, /and/ the two of you were closer, but that's neither here nor there. "Not to mention having other decisions to weigh."

A frown at that name, a stiffening of Race's body. "I advise you get rid of this Gambit guy then. If you are going to treat yourself second best, at least make it worth your while Anessa. Get something out of it like any practical transaction." Nope, not warm and fuzzy. "If this Gambit is the one I heard about, he's bad news and trouble. And he wouldn't mind manipulating you. There, that's my 'I care for today advice', if you wanted it or not." Likely payback for earlier.

Anessa steps over to the fridge. "Oh, you don't have to tell me twice." She shivers. "I swear.. I was starting to feel claustrophobic around him.. or like I was in a room with an octopus." She smiles. "I haven't seen him for awhile, so maybe he's given up on me. Would you like a drink? I have juice, water, milk and beer." Beer?

"Beer? That sounds good." Bad for hydration on a hot day, especially wearing a black trench coat. But does Race care? Nope! He is still standing there, hands in pockets. But when you mention the beer, he slowly starts to move to have a seat on the couch, legs straightening out. He never asked about the 'other' stuff that was worrying you, not being pushy or nosy like that. "As long as it isn't light shit."

Anessa pulls out a can of the beer and brings it over to you. For herself, she still has her bottle of lemonade. "Here." She moves around to the other side of the couch, propping herself on the arm. Now that she's offered you refreshment, she's stuck for small talk, if she can think of anything. "You were talking about the tour. Is everything planned out already?"

"Just what we talked about. Manager is looking for locations. I've mentioned making a release overseas, starting in England. Perhaps a concert there, if it goes over well. Least most of us kept our schedules pretty well open. It is tiring though, you don't have a life during concerts." It didn't bother Race in the past, but does now for some reason...likely John's and the Brotherhood's fault. He wants to do more with her life than just play music, though he still insanely loves music. He takes a swig of the beer. "I'm not going to have a guy show up here, this Clint fellow, and get all rowdy, am I?"

Anessa laughs, shaking her head. "I don't think Clint could /get/ rowdy right now, if he wanted to. He just got out of the hospital. Not too steady on his feet." She takes another swig of her lemonade. "Besides, he knows I'm in the band and would like to hear us sometime. Next place we play... as long as it's not too soon... I've got a few to get tickets to."

"We each can get a few free tickets to our concerts, but not a lot. Our concerts aren't as large as I would like them," Race admits. "I want more publicity, I want to get more well known." His right foot starts tapping at the toes some strange rhythm. "I hope this Rolling Stone avenue pays off." He hrms softly, thoughtful once again.

"Just two, I'm thinking.. though maybe just one. Haven't heard from Peter." Anessa wrinkles her nose. "He must be mad at me.. but.." She shrugs her shoulders. "No biggie. If we can get Clint a backstage pass too, that would be great. Hope his hearing's better by our next concert." She smiles. "It sounded hopeful.. if she hasn't forgotten about me."

"Didn't realize you were such a ho Anessa." It is said bluntly without judgment, as if stating a fact rather pulling in question morality. "I don't get it. Three guys....," he wiggles a finger in his ear thoughtfully. "Hopeful?" Another drink of beer. Racey can be a flirt but she doesn't string three guys along. Actually, she only plays with John and flirts a little with Magnus. Even then, Magnus is someone Racey admires more than wants to bed. "I never quite understood girls." Typical guy saying there.

Anessa snorts. "Hardly. Peter got the wrong idea, and when I set the record straight, I think he got his feelings hurt." She rolls her shoulders. "Gambit.." She shakes her head. ".. no solid interest there. Mr. Stark.." Again another shrug. ".. just enjoyed his company at the party. By my count.. that leaves only one."

A smirk, "If you say so. Don't bite off more than you can chew kid. Men have a habit of biting when you least expect it. I'd rather not have to knock any heads off to keep my band member in one piece," Race is actually teasing you at this point, not being wholly serious.

"As if that would keep me down." Anessa blurts out before thinking. She recovers quickly, the only give away that maybe there was something more serious about that comment that could be taken. "But I don't think you have to worry about me. /Men/ are the least of my worries."

"That strong huh?" A slight smirk. But then Race's cell vibrates in his trench coat pocket, one can hear it moving about. He reaches in and reads the text. His expression goes blank for a moment. Then, taking another chug of beer, he sets the can aside, mostly empty. "I have to go, forgot I had someone to meet." He flips up off the couch, soon standing and shifting his guitar so rather than hanging off to the side of him as it was on the couch it returns to his back. "I'll call you later." It is the first time Race ever offered to call you, he always had the Manager or Rose do it.

Anessa gets to her feet to see you to the door. She casts a sideways glance to the beer can on the table, but says nothing about it. She'll get to it as soon as you leave. She holds the door open. "See you at rehearsal then." It doesn't sink in that you've said you'll call her, or she'd be too stunned to reply.

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