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indriSUMMARY: Giles and Ethan, the electric Kool-Aid funky Satan groove year, in the early seventies. Rated M. Spoilers to Band Candy. Acknowledgements and disclaimers.
44.
They sat together in the endless twilight, leaning against one another, forced close by the limited size of the tarpaulin and the press of other bodies. A psychedelic folk group were up on stage, playing a set that had seemed interminable to Ripper, if only because their guitars were ever-so-slightly off-key. And his arm was starting to go numb where Stan's back pressed against it.
He'd spent the afternoon meeting Randall's more musical acquaintances. Ripper had to admit that Randall knew quite a few interesting people. He'd spent two or three hours talking and jamming with a folk rock couple from Kent, a German synthesiser enthusiast who he should really put in touch with his bandmate Andy, and a cute girl guitarist from Yorkshire who played possibly very slightly better than he did. Her name was Carol, but unfortunately she was determined to return to Yorkshire and already spoken for.
Ethan had popped by at one point to say that he'd recovered sufficiently to do the rounds of catching up with the various people he knew at the festival, and did Ripper want to come with him? Ripper had been deep in conversation with the folk rock couple and waved Ethan away, and Ethan had been pissed off with him ever since.
And the downside of Randall knowing quite a few interesting people was that Randall knew huge numbers of very uninteresting people as well. The very bad bongo troupe, for example, or the man who knew the name of every song ever written but couldn't accurately hum any of them. Many of these friends of Randall might actually be interesting under other circumstances, but after a tab of acid or a couple of hot knives they had lost the ability to string together a coherent sentence, which had made meaningful conversation a sadly unattainable goal.
Then there had been dinner with the Wallys, a diverse group of people who had all taken the surname "Wally" in order to confuse the police. They had an entrenched encampment not far from the stage, where they intended to stay for good. They had actual toilets and a kind of shower where you filled a bag with hot water. They'd had some trouble with their firewood though after the torrential rain of the past couple of days, and when Ripper got there, Ethan had been relighting their kitchen fires using magic to a very appreciate audience.
The psychedelic folk group finished their last song. Ripper wondered who was next up. Diedre tried to pass him a bottle of gin and Randall tried to pass him a joint. The air was taking on a chill.
"Does anyone have the time?" Ripper asked. "Do we know how long it is until sunset?"
"Where's your watch?" asked Diedre.
"I think someone stole it."
"The sun will set," said Randall, "when it falls behind the curve of the earth, in its own good time."
"Actually, I am perfectly well aware of elementary astronomy. I understand it will, in fact, set in the west."
"What's got into you?" Diedre asked.
"The last band gave me a headache," he said. "And I think the food disagreed with me."
"Think about something else then," said Diedre. "Think about the coming year and what you want to do in it, your aims and ambitions."
He thought for a moment. "I want to be a better guitarist." And he wanted to stop feeling so bloody guilty.
"I want to be a better painter," said Randall.
"Yes," said Diedre. "And do you know what I want? I want to have a fucking ambition."
"Diedre--" said Randall.
"It's all very easy for the rest of you, isn't it? Randall's got art, Ripper got music, Adrienne's got... the overthrow of the government. That's why she didn't come, you know, she's plotting the overthrow of the entire bloody government. We'll get back to London and Westminster will be on bloody fire.
"I don't think--" said Randall.
"Oh, shut the hell up," she said to him. "You don't know what it's like, not knowing what you want to do."
"You'd be a pretty good witch if you ever practised," said Ethan.
"And thank you for yet another characteristically unsupportive comment."
"That was a supportive comment," said Ethan.
"So you're an ordinary person," said Stan. "Why's that a problem? You and me both. We're only outnumbered because we share a house with freaks."
"I'm in a field full of fucking freaks," said Diedre, waving her arms wide.
"Well, exactly," said Stan.
"I'm not exactly a freak," Ripper said.
"Sometimes," said Diedre, ignoring him, "I think should go back to university."
"You dropped out? I did too," Ripper found himself saying.
"I studied modern European languages for three months. Voulez-vous couchez avec moi, ce soir? What did you study?"
"History."
"Really?" said Stan. "That's what I'd do if I ever went. I like reading about battles and stuff. I've got books on them."
"I know some people really into that," said Randall. "I could introduce you. They do battle games."
"Toy soldiers?" said Stan. "I reckon I could get into that."
"But what should I do?" pressed Diedre.
"You like reading," said Ethan. "English literature? Journalism? Jackanory?"
"They all sound like work," said Diedre. "Maybe I'm just monumentally lazy. Maybe I should just get married after all."
The next band was finally set up on stage. This one had a warbling female vocalist and a man on a harp. They were rather eerie, actually.
"I think the sun's set," said Ethan.
"I might have to make some changes this year," said Stan. "I can't keep doing what I'm doing. Well, I mean, some people can, but I don't think I'm one of them. If I got any better at it, I'd have to get nasty, and I don't want to do that." He laughed. "I only got into this line of work as a favour to friends, really."
"Very civic-minded of you," said Ethan.
"What would you do instead?" Diedre asked.
"I don't know. I've been thinking about that a lot, lately."
"Community service?" suggested Ethan.
Stan gave him the bird.
Patchy cloud was moving slowly over the sky, giving glimpses of the waning moon, Venus and a few early stars. Ripper felt cramped and cold. His foot had gone numb. "I think I'm going for a walk," he said.
"Try heading southeast," said Ethan.
"Why there?"
"That's the way the wizards are headed."
44.
They sat together in the endless twilight, leaning against one another, forced close by the limited size of the tarpaulin and the press of other bodies. A psychedelic folk group were up on stage, playing a set that had seemed interminable to Ripper, if only because their guitars were ever-so-slightly off-key. And his arm was starting to go numb where Stan's back pressed against it.
He'd spent the afternoon meeting Randall's more musical acquaintances. Ripper had to admit that Randall knew quite a few interesting people. He'd spent two or three hours talking and jamming with a folk rock couple from Kent, a German synthesiser enthusiast who he should really put in touch with his bandmate Andy, and a cute girl guitarist from Yorkshire who played possibly very slightly better than he did. Her name was Carol, but unfortunately she was determined to return to Yorkshire and already spoken for.
Ethan had popped by at one point to say that he'd recovered sufficiently to do the rounds of catching up with the various people he knew at the festival, and did Ripper want to come with him? Ripper had been deep in conversation with the folk rock couple and waved Ethan away, and Ethan had been pissed off with him ever since.
And the downside of Randall knowing quite a few interesting people was that Randall knew huge numbers of very uninteresting people as well. The very bad bongo troupe, for example, or the man who knew the name of every song ever written but couldn't accurately hum any of them. Many of these friends of Randall might actually be interesting under other circumstances, but after a tab of acid or a couple of hot knives they had lost the ability to string together a coherent sentence, which had made meaningful conversation a sadly unattainable goal.
Then there had been dinner with the Wallys, a diverse group of people who had all taken the surname "Wally" in order to confuse the police. They had an entrenched encampment not far from the stage, where they intended to stay for good. They had actual toilets and a kind of shower where you filled a bag with hot water. They'd had some trouble with their firewood though after the torrential rain of the past couple of days, and when Ripper got there, Ethan had been relighting their kitchen fires using magic to a very appreciate audience.
The psychedelic folk group finished their last song. Ripper wondered who was next up. Diedre tried to pass him a bottle of gin and Randall tried to pass him a joint. The air was taking on a chill.
"Does anyone have the time?" Ripper asked. "Do we know how long it is until sunset?"
"Where's your watch?" asked Diedre.
"I think someone stole it."
"The sun will set," said Randall, "when it falls behind the curve of the earth, in its own good time."
"Actually, I am perfectly well aware of elementary astronomy. I understand it will, in fact, set in the west."
"What's got into you?" Diedre asked.
"The last band gave me a headache," he said. "And I think the food disagreed with me."
"Think about something else then," said Diedre. "Think about the coming year and what you want to do in it, your aims and ambitions."
He thought for a moment. "I want to be a better guitarist." And he wanted to stop feeling so bloody guilty.
"I want to be a better painter," said Randall.
"Yes," said Diedre. "And do you know what I want? I want to have a fucking ambition."
"Diedre--" said Randall.
"It's all very easy for the rest of you, isn't it? Randall's got art, Ripper got music, Adrienne's got... the overthrow of the government. That's why she didn't come, you know, she's plotting the overthrow of the entire bloody government. We'll get back to London and Westminster will be on bloody fire.
"I don't think--" said Randall.
"Oh, shut the hell up," she said to him. "You don't know what it's like, not knowing what you want to do."
"You'd be a pretty good witch if you ever practised," said Ethan.
"And thank you for yet another characteristically unsupportive comment."
"That was a supportive comment," said Ethan.
"So you're an ordinary person," said Stan. "Why's that a problem? You and me both. We're only outnumbered because we share a house with freaks."
"I'm in a field full of fucking freaks," said Diedre, waving her arms wide.
"Well, exactly," said Stan.
"I'm not exactly a freak," Ripper said.
"Sometimes," said Diedre, ignoring him, "I think should go back to university."
"You dropped out? I did too," Ripper found himself saying.
"I studied modern European languages for three months. Voulez-vous couchez avec moi, ce soir? What did you study?"
"History."
"Really?" said Stan. "That's what I'd do if I ever went. I like reading about battles and stuff. I've got books on them."
"I know some people really into that," said Randall. "I could introduce you. They do battle games."
"Toy soldiers?" said Stan. "I reckon I could get into that."
"But what should I do?" pressed Diedre.
"You like reading," said Ethan. "English literature? Journalism? Jackanory?"
"They all sound like work," said Diedre. "Maybe I'm just monumentally lazy. Maybe I should just get married after all."
The next band was finally set up on stage. This one had a warbling female vocalist and a man on a harp. They were rather eerie, actually.
"I think the sun's set," said Ethan.
"I might have to make some changes this year," said Stan. "I can't keep doing what I'm doing. Well, I mean, some people can, but I don't think I'm one of them. If I got any better at it, I'd have to get nasty, and I don't want to do that." He laughed. "I only got into this line of work as a favour to friends, really."
"Very civic-minded of you," said Ethan.
"What would you do instead?" Diedre asked.
"I don't know. I've been thinking about that a lot, lately."
"Community service?" suggested Ethan.
Stan gave him the bird.
Patchy cloud was moving slowly over the sky, giving glimpses of the waning moon, Venus and a few early stars. Ripper felt cramped and cold. His foot had gone numb. "I think I'm going for a walk," he said.
"Try heading southeast," said Ethan.
"Why there?"
"That's the way the wizards are headed."
no subject
Date: 2011-06-13 12:41 pm (UTC)A few small corrections, if that's okay. and Ethan had been pissed with him ever since. No one in the UK back then would use 'pissed' on its own to mean angry. Pissed just means drunk. Ripper would say 'pissed off with'. Also, Stan gives Ethan 'the finger'. He'd be more likely to do what Spike did in Hush and give him the two fingers. So maybe change it to 'gave him the bird.'
no subject
Date: 2011-06-13 01:01 pm (UTC)