You are all terrible influences I cannot believe this. Tagging redemsi because I blame you entirely for this undeniable spiral out of control.
In the Right Direction
Alan fell asleep hours ago, so the couch is fully occupied, which is fine because no one else wants to use it. Virgil and Brains are too busy dicking around on the computer, trying to invent the perfect sound to match the solid inch of staff paper that Virgil has sitting under his inky right hand. John and Scott are in the booth, Scott tall like a soldier and John tall like John, their faces lost somewhere behind pop filters and oversized headphones.
Which leaves Gordon and Penny, as it always does.
Penelope Creighton-Ward, manager extraordinaire, is in a skirt that might be just a little too short, her legs crossed, propped up on a tabletop that might be just a little too high, but Gordon doesn’t notice. He never does while they’re recording.
The board glows in the night, dim oranges, blinking reds, and that single green go in the corner. It’s always dark back here, nothing more than a few slim lights overhead, but when eyelids start to droop and heads start to bob, the diodes across the board seem to highlight the lateness of the hour. Scott and John have switched from water to tea. Gordon and Virgil have skipped straight to the coffee. They’ve been at this all day, but they’re on a roll, and they’ve got to get this song right.
@the-lady-razorsharp Here ‘tis. I had trouble refinding it, so I thought you might have as well 😁