undergrounds | You Only Hear The Music When Your Heart Begins To Break

Party's already been warned off of vampire territory a few times and for now he's willing to play ball, but that doesn't mean he's going to be happy about it, especially now that they've taken Greenwich. His career is pretty halted without access to the art galleries in their territory and he's taken to what some people might see as panhandling, but what he chooses to see as an entry-level artist position.

Lately, he's taken to setting up shop with his art outside train stops in various non-hostile areas. He's got a little cardboard display with postcard prints of his favorite pieces and a travel easel with a tip jar. Every day he finds a new stop to set up at and he starts to paint. If anyone shows interest, he'll offer commissions or even just chat with people.

In the evenings, he'll move to hipper places, outside of nightclubs and bars where he might catch the eye of others in the art scene. Most of his art focuses in the juxtaposition of nature imagery and neon colors, especially wolves and forests, but he'll branch out to anything that might interest him if it fits his style of bright contrasts an harsh shapes.

On more than one occasion, he takes advantage of the cover of night to paint over old tags and ruder graffiti with his own quick spray paint work, especially in alleyways that look like they could use a little love and a brighter palette.

[ OOC: Party can be found anywhere that would be non-hostile to werewolves for any of the above scenarios. His art is along the lines of this or this or this. If you're interested in a more specific starter for something, let me know! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I guess you've got a point. I mean, all of this is kind of terrifying and you probably are way tougher than me, but...well, I guess you never know when you're getting paranoid over something that looks big and scary, only to get killed by a house cat."

In other words, you could always die, so this guy had a point about staying in.

"You just have to convince enough people of that to get a party going."

Because even if Roddy decided he could brave the possible vampires, others might not feel so brave.

Party laughs. "That's the spirit. You just need a good gang to have your back, anyway."

It's probably an oversimplification. Having a handful of friends can't really protect you from a lot of the threats out there right now, but Party isn't going to let himself get caught up in hiding. He doesn't like the idea of not living his life to the fullest just because someone's out to stop him. If anything, he's got to spite them and live extra hard.

"We already got two, right?" He winks.

"Yeah," Roddy agreed, grinning in response to the wink, "Now you'll just have to talk a couple dozen more people into getting out and having fun, and we'll actually have a party going."

Because while he'd gotten Roddy to be up for a party, a party of two wasn't much of a party. Then again, if Party managed to talk Roddy into throwing caution to the wind, he could probably do the same with a few others.

"My name's Roddy, by the way," he said, realizing he hadn't introduced himself.

"I'm Party. Party Poison." He inclines his head at the little sign he's made himself with his professional signature. Sure, his paperwork has his legal name on it, but he doesn't use it anymore if he doesn't have to. It's better if he can't be tracked too easily back to his family and this name seems more him at this point.

"Oh." His eyebrows went up, surprised that that was actually the guy's name. "Well, that's the first time I've heard that name."

"It's a pen name. My parents don't hate me that much. Didn't." The correction is a tagged-on afterthought, but there's no emotion in his voice when he does it.

"Real name's too boring for an artist. Not cool like Roddy."

"...didn't?"

He wondered if Party meant his parents hated him now, or if something horrible had happened to them. Either way, with as much as Roddy's dad meant to him, he felt like there should be more of an emotional reaction than that. Maybe it happened a long time ago, though. Whatever 'it' was.

"Thanks. I don't really think of Roddy as a super interesting name, and I don't use my real name when I'm DJing, but...thanks."

Party just shrugs, not interested in elaborating on anything he hasn't already said about himself. Much as he enjoys talking in general, when it comes to his own life, he likes to keep his cards close to his chest.

"Really? DJ Roddy has a cool ring to it. What's your super cool DJ name?"

And now part of him only hoped that his actual DJ name sounded as cool to Party as his presumed one.

"Uh...DJ Retchid Kat. Because...well, the whole cat thing makes me feel like the toughest, most powerful thing in the room."

Because cats are scary, right? Sometimes, a rodent's perspectives didn't quite match up with everyone else's.

"And it's kind of funny, because it's ironic."

Party laughs with the sort of bright quality that only comes from at least a moderate weed habit, head shaking as he tries to stop.

"That's hilarious. I'll have to come out with you some time. I could be your big, scary guard dog."

"That would be great. Then I'd really feel like super tough. Guarded by something even housecats are scared of."

Okay, Roddy was aware of how ridiculous that sounded. But...for him it still sort of rang true.

Flashing his teeth, Party reaches for one of his colorful business cards.

"Gimme a call next time you want a guard dog. Or a buddy. Or if you just wanna get fucked up." He winks, as if that was in any way a subtle offer that required the wink.

He took the card, a huge grin fixed on his face. "Yeah, I'll definitely do that if I want to do one of those. Or all of those, or whatever."

You Only Hear The Music When Your Heart Begins To Break - OPEN

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