forum dead man's party // oxo // closed

Started March 14, 2023 by @larcenistarsonist group

tune

Everybody's coming.
Leave your body and soul at the door.

It's the late eighties. Cigarette smoke plagues the streets, shoes are tall, there's neon and leather and big hair. Music is everything.

At least, according to Vivian Ledger, that is. As the frontman for an up and coming hard rock band, music has to be everything. She's assembled her small crew–a rough and rumble drummer, a suave and smiling guitarist, a quiet but pretty rhythm guitarist, and herself as the bassist. The four of them are fine together–even great. Their music has won them eight competitions and even the eye of a record label.

But that all changes.

Don't run away.
It's only me.

While on tour, opening for the main act, rhythm guitarist, Saylor, is found dead in their trailer. The police ruled it as a cocaine overdose, but the bandmates know that couldn't be it. Saylor hadn't touched drugs in their life. Saylor was healthy and took good care of their body–what could it have been…

Despite the loss of a dear bandmate, the group has to go on. There's a tour to finish and dreams to accomplish. It's all what Saylor would've wanted. They quickly seek out a new rhythm guitarist and get right back on tour, but the death of Saylor still weighs heavily on all of them.

I was hit by something last night in my sleep.

---

Hi! I was craving some music stuff but make it murder.

For this, I'll be playing Viv and you'll be playing the replacement guitarist. The other two bandmates–Maverick (drummer) and Beau (lead guitarist)–will also be played by me, but they don't have as big of a role.

If we want this to be a romance, I would prefer it to be a wlw just because Viv is a lesbian and it's been far too long since I've written a good wlw. And YES the band will be trying to solve the murder along the way.

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My rules are simple:

• Please, Experienced RPers only!! I may ask for a sample and I reserve the right to say no.
• There will be mature themes such as violence, death, and intense mental health issues. All sexual situations will be fade-to-black or entirely omitted.
• Be active!!! Posting every 2-3 days is perfect and just give me something to go off of!
• Don't be a dick, man.
• Please commit I am begging you, I really want this to be successful.

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I'll post templates if someone shows interest!

Name:
Nicknames/Aliases:
Gender/Pronouns:
Sexuality:
Age:

Appearance: [pictures are fine, just be sure to have a description too!]

Personality:
Brief History:
Talents/Strengths/Skills:
Weaknesses:
Other?:

Name: Tabatha Lee
Nicknames/Aliases: Tabby, sometimes
Gender/Pronouns: AFAB Female, she/her
Sexuality: Bisexual
Age: 24

Appearance: Around 5'6", small-shouldered. Has a somewhat hourglass-y figure. Dark skinned, dark brown, long curly hair that covers a lot of her face and is very fluffy. The underside of it is dyed green (if that makes sense, it can be lifted and you'd be able to see the dye underneath). Wears a lot of flannels and kind of grunge sort of clothing? Downturned eyes and full lips, a soft face. Has a gap between two front teeth. Smiles a lot, friendly and warm looking. (I draw a lot of my characters so if she ends up on a paper I'll show ya!)
Personality: Ambitious and determined, very open and trusworthy. Pays close attention to those around her. A free spirit who enjoys a messy sort of environment, feels awkward and uncomfortable when she needs to be formal or professional. Has a kind of unrealistically optimistic viewpoint. Generally very friendly and approachable, but can come off a little strong about things she's passionate about. Not easily swayed.
Brief History: Tabatha hadn't heard about the band (I don't know if it has a name) until she was introduced to it by a friend of her's, Drew, at 22. She was intrigued and convinced by his excitement about the show to come with him, since the venue at the time was relatively affordable and Tabby had a night off. The show was enthralling for her, maybe more so than Drew. However, by the time she was 24, she'd nearly forgotten about it. That is, until she heard they were looking for a new guitarist. Tabatha was unaware why, but was looking to put her love of music to work, and volunteered on a whim. She doesn't know the band members very well but is curious and excited to be playing with them.
Strengths: Can calm herself and not easily stressed, trustworthy, optimistic, nonconforming
Weaknesses: Unrealistic, vague, loose, unprofessional, surprisingly stubborn
Other?: Relatively new character of mine so anything else will be revealed in the RP (or if it's something specific that I forgot I will add it!)

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I'm fine with this being nonromantic or romantic, I'll leave that up to you but I am really bad with detecting underlying romantic themes so you might have to spell it out for me haha

a;klsdjf I love her so much

I'm fine with this being romantic or not as well; I think we should write and see where it takes us!

Name: Vivian Ledger
Nicknames/Aliases: Viv, she got tired of people comparing her to Vivian Campbell. Sometimes Vee
Gender/Pronouns: Female, AFAB, she/her
Sexuality: lebs,, bes, lebsian
Age: 25

Appearance: Viv is of average height with an inverted triangle build. She has semi-broad shoulders, strong arms and legs, and a semi-toned waist. She has inky black hair that reaches to just about her elbows, but she's always styling it up into funky hairstyles. She has dark, narrow eyes with thin eyebrows and a long and pointed nose. She's of Chinese and English descent. On stage, Viv usually wears cropped leather jackets with all sorts of buttons and patches sewn onto them over short and tight shirts with heavily ripped jeans and very tall platform combat boots. She usually pairs this with heavy eye makeup. When not performing, Viv is found in loose sweatpants, a tight tank top, a pair of chunky sneakers, and minimal or no makeup at all.

Personality: Viv is someone who can flip between two personalities easily. She goes from a boisterous, flirty and dirty on-stage persona to a quiet and independent woman when not in the spotlight. Viv is naturally very skeptical of everything and needs answers. She's blunt and easy to anger. Viv certainly has a temper that's difficult to cool. She can be very distant from others, choosing to sit in the back to tend to her own needs rather than join in a group conversation. She's very casual with all of her words, rarely ever being formal or respectful.
Brief History: She grew up nearby the boardwalk in California where she lived and breathed surf music. Her dad was a guitarist for his own small-town band and got her into music at a young age. When she got old enough to move out, Viv took her surf music roots and helped transform it into something she likes more–metal. She met Maverick in a back alley after they both had had way too much to drink, and she met Beau after he tried to ask her out and Viv blurted that she was a lesbian. She met Saylor at a local guitar competition and the two of them easily hit it off. Viv doesn't like to talk about Saylor.
Talents/Strengths/Skills: An amazing bassist, good at improvising on the spot, good at lying, a decent leader when it comes to making sure people stay focused
Weaknesses: Blunt, skeptical, closes off the second things get too personal, weak for a good cup of black coffee
Other?: also a new character of mine asldkfj I'll add anything I remember or come up with!

I'm fine with this being romantic or not as well; I think we should write and see where it takes us!

Okay! That way it'll seem more natural if we do decide to do that, so fine by me!

Sexuality: lebs,, bes, lebsian

Same, viv..

I love vivian !!! ♡♡♡

aaaaaaaaaaaa okay cool cool

i don't know if i'll have a starter up tonight (got head ache) and i am sleepy, so a starter will probably be up sometime tomorrow if school is kind to me alksdfj

alright! hope your headache gets better
also take as much time as you need !

It's dusk. It's also dusty. Vivian Ledger should not be smoking in the alley outside their hotel, but here she is. Her manager would tell her to quit, but it's the eighties. Everyone has nicotine in their lungs. The dust is due to the wonderful summer windstorms of the southwest. Viv hacks into the crook of her arm with a swear. She needs her lungs to sing. She also needs them for stress relief.

The new guitarist they hired is arriving today. Beau is at the bus station picking her up right now. Maverick insisted on cleaning their temporary apartment, and Viv allowed him. They're leaving it for another in two days, but to each their own. Viv smokes, Maverick cleans.

Sighing, Viv drops the cigarette butt to the ground and grinds it out with the heel of her boot. She's still in concert drag from the night before, yet she can't be bothered to change out of it. The big hair and itchy makeup will have to stay for now. Maybe she'll shower tonight. There's no show, there won't be for the next few days. The frontman of the band they're opening for isn't happy, but neither is Viv. She didn't ask for her friend to be murdered.

Cocaine, the police had ruled without even giving Saylor a second look. Viv has to go back inside before she lights up another cig. Pushing Saylor from her mind, Viv pulls open the heavy metal side door and stomps inside. The poor child who was standing excitedly by the vending machine wasn't expecting a demonic woman suddenly appearing behind him screams and scrambles to the lobby. Viv takes the elevator up before she can get an earful from some middle-aged woman named Margaret.

She finds their hotel room with ease, shoving her key into the lock and throwing the door open. The room–a suite–is spotless and Viv's bandmates are sitting on the lime green couch with a woman between them. Beau, a man with a radiant smile and a shabby mullet, is talking the newcomer's ear off. Maverick, a hulking mammoth of a man, is nodding along when he's not constantly adjusting the decor on the coffee table.

"Oh!" Beau cuts himself off. He's in comfortable clothes and a letterman's jacket. "Viv! Welcome back! We were just talking to Tabby here."

Tabatha had been listening to Beau talk about.. something for the past ten minutes. She was too excited to care, but willed herself to keep from wearing a stupid grin for the past few hours. She never thought she'd actually get to play with the band- not that she wasn't confident about her abilites, because Tabby was nothing if not ready. Her guitar case was at her feet at that very moment, as if to display how eager she was.

"Viv!" Tabby's attention was immediately drawn to Vivian. Like Beau and Maverick, it felt unreal to see her. As someone who wasn't seventy feet away and on a stage, but as someone in the same room as her. Maybe she was more of a fangirl than she thought. Get used to it. "Welcome back! We were just talking to Tabby here."

"You're Viv?" For a moment, Tabatha's eyes widened. She stood, willing herself not to jump. "It's fine if I call you that, right? I'm Tabatha." She paused and glanced at Beau. "Or, I guess Tabby! Like a cat? I like it. I'm Tabby," she laughed, her hand resting on her neck.

Despite only meeting Beau and Maverick that day, Tabatha was surprised to find how natural she felt. Of course, anything to do with music felt right to her; but, unlike the days before, she didn't feel like she was just a replacement for Saylor- what happened to them, anyway?- but a new, real addition to the group. And, as childish as it felt, she liked having a nickname already.

(is this enough? let me know if i should add more cause i will if i need to!)

(yeah! this is a great length to work with)

Vivian stares down the newcomer, no doubt with smeared mascara streaked down her cheeks. "Viv is fine," she says, her voice thick and scratchy with smoke. She clears her throat and swipes her hand through her frizzed, teased, dyed, and crimped hair. Her fingers catch at least three times through just the movement. Viv doesn't hide her cringe. "Where's my hairbrush?"

Maverick quickly stands from the couch and scurries towards the bathroom. As the six-five giant of a man retrieves her hairbrush, Viv turns her attention to the newcomer. "Tabby." She could use a stick of gum. The woman sitting on the couch is small and clad in a flannel. That might have to change. If they want the new guitarist to fit in with the rest of the vibe, she might have to trade the baggy flannel for something a little more brow-raising. "How comfortable are you in stage garb?" She pauses. Oh yeah, and the music aspect too. "Where's your guitar?"

The drummer carefully balances the hairbrush atop of Viv's head, but it teeters and falls, the bassist catching it smoothly before it hits the ground. She grumbles something adjacent to thanks, Mav and gets to work on the rat nests clotted into her hair. She ignores Beau's pained expression. Viv supposes that they all can't have eight-step hair care routines like a certain flashy guitarist. "Viv, don't interrogate Tabby too hard–" Beau pleads, putting on the honey painfully thick. Viv flips him off; Beau laughs. "She just got here." He pouts as Viv yanks the hairbrush with a wince.

"Viv is fine." Tabby smiled and threw Vivian playful finger-guns. "Got it, Viv."

"Tabby." Tabatha watched Viv look over her. She couldn't help but glance down at herself as well. Compared to Vivian, she was hardly eye-catching in a tank top, flannel, and ripped black jeans. As if to show off something a little more noticable, she brought her hair to one side of her shoulder, letting the lime-green color be more obvious. "How comfortable are you in stage garb?"

"Totally good with me. I'll wear whatever, really." She shrugged and observed what Viv was wearing. If it were a few hours earlier, it probably would have given her a better idea of what she'd be dressed in. Tabby would have been shocked if anything she was expected to wear would have made her too self-conscious to get on stage in. Even then, she would probably forget all about how she looked once she was playing.

"Where's your guitar?" Tabby brings the case at her feet to her lap and opens the case, revealing a red, glittery electric guitar. "Here's my baby," she says jokingly. She closes the case as Viv starts working through her hair. Yikes. If her father saw this, he'd see it again in his nightmares. Any hairdresser would. "Do you want help with that?" Tabby offers, gesturing to Vivian's hair.

It takes a brief moment for Viv to register what Tabby had offered. "This?" The bassist points to the hairbrush tangled within her hair. Even when she drops her hand, it remains suspended by the knots. "No, I'm fine. This happens after every show."

"You're going to go bald, love." Beau scrunches his nose as he stands, passing Maverick on his way to the bathroom.

Vivian narrows her eyes as she takes a step forward, studying the guitar sitting within the case. Six strings, a well-polished red body, a nice case that allows it to fit snugly. The red of the guitar shouldn't contradict the band's already coherent color scheme. When not wearing all black, the band usually aims for purples and oranges–neon of course. Viv has dyed her hair red, green, violet, and every color in between to fit with whatever show. The bright colors only highlighted the split ends and damaged strands, so she went back to her natural color of black. The hairbrush is still stuck.

"Looks good," Viv says, but her tone being flat and sleazy makes her words seem ingenuine. "Played with any bands before? I'm assuming you're familiar with metal granted you took the gig."

Behind her, Beau appears with a large green spray bottle. Without warning, the guitarist begins soaking through all of Vivian's hair with the product. Vivian's nose wrinkles, but she doesn't object as Beau pries the brush from her hair and begins working through it, this time around much easier with the added detangler product.

Tabby nods. "A few. Three. One of them was metal, the other two punk rock. Well, two were only from highschool," she muses. "But yeah, I'm familiar. The last one I was in was in was three years ago, didn't last long. Was called Ace Of Spades." Tabatha continues as she puts her guitar away, pleased that it 'looks good'. "I've played a few one-time, temporary things, though, so.. yeah."

She stands with her guitar and picks up her bag as well, which was a duffel bag hurriedly stuffed with her things. She wasn't a great packer and only took what she felt she needed. Her procrastination didn't help. "Should I put these somewhere? Don't wanna clutter up your space or anything. It can go anywhere, doesn't matter."

(Sorry it's a little short, it'll be longer next time)

Vivian raises an eyebrow at punk rock. She had never been in a punk band herself, instead going straight from wharf music to metal, but Maverick, Beau, and Saylor all had punk roots. Because of their shared origin, a lot of the band's songs have been rooted from punk and merged with metal. They tried to go the Thrash route once, but it sounded too much like Metallica and the last thing Viv wanted was to be called a copycat.

"Mav, remind me to find anything on Ace Of Spades later," Viv calls to the drummer, who's back to sitting on the couch and flipping through a magazine. The man looks up and nods. At the question, Viv turns back to the newbie. Beau fusses as she moves, trying his best to work around her movement to finish detangling her hair. "We won't be in this hotel for long. I think we're leaving tomorrow afternoon, so don't worry about where to keep your shit. Just…" She shrugs. "I dunno, pick a corner. There should be a bed free in the room over there." She points to a door. There's two beds–one for Viv, the other vacant. The neighboring room is the same layout, inhabited by Maverick and Beau. The suite was booked three weeks ago. Right before Viv found her friend's body limp in their trailer.

With a labored sigh, Beau finally finishes his hair care process. "Good God, Viv. You have to take better care of your hair." He runs his fingers through his own hair, sparkling and perfectly manicured.

(I am only just realizing Ace of Spades is an actual band, so the real band is not what I meant when I said that lmao)

"I dunno, pick a corner. There should be a bed free in the room over there."
"Got it." Tabatha gives a quick thumbs-up and grabs her bag and guitar case. "I'll just put it on the bed for now. Or something." She walks past Maverick, Beau and Viv and opens the door to the bedroom she was referring to.

She walks toward the unused bed as Beau says something about Vivian's hair. Tabby sits on the bed for a moment and stares at the ceiling. Listening to the banter from the other room, she smiles slightly. She doesn't know how long she'll be with the band- or why she was with them in the first place, but hopes she'll be able to again after this. Even if it means them seeing Ace of Spades. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that. While her guitar was… okay back then, she knows she could do much better now. Whatever. She'd just try and do extra well during practice and stuff… yeah. Hopefully they wouldn't listen to that one song, though- Asinine. That one was terrible.

Tabby takes off her flannel, revealing a tank top underneath, and tosses it on the bed, then ties her hair into a low ponytail. She comes back out after a minute. "Where are we headed tomorrow afternoon?" she asks, curious. She leans against the doorframe.

(alsdfj aight)

Viv watches the newcomer disappear into the adjacent room before turning to Beau, swiping her hands through her newly smoothed hair. "I didn't need your help," she grumbles, materializing a hair tie from around her wrist to throw her hair up into. Maverick watches them briefly before turning his attention back to whatever tabloid he's flipping through this time. Viv always finds it humorous how their rough and tough drummer, a mammoth of a man, secretly loves gossip and deep cleans everything within sight to decompress.

"The brush tangled up in these beautiful inky locks of yours said otherwise." He points his pointed nose into the air but it quickly comes back down as Beau cringes. "A bun isn't any better for your hair–why don't you use one of my scrunchies?" He pulls one from his wrist, a lovely lemon yellow in color. Viv gags, Tabby entering right as she does so.

Viv turns her attention from her bandmate to the newcomer, narrowing her makeup smeared eyes as she thinks. "Where are we now?"

"Just outside Chicago," Maverick inputs helpfully, his voice low and slightly congested as he flips the page of his magazine.

"Then I guess we're leaving for the next tour stop which should be–" she trails off slightly as she tries to remember their whereabouts. "Columbus. Or Indianapolis. One of the two." All the cities in the midwest are the same to Viv.

Tabby nods, content with Viv's ballpark response. She was never much of a traveler, so she isn't able to clarify, but is fine with that. It feels sort of like an adventure that way. At least she likes to think of it like that.

"Oh, right-" Tabatha disappears into the bedroom for another moment, leaving the room with her guitar in hand again. "Last question I swear." She pauses. "Actually, I might have more later, so pretend I didn't say I swore. This is probably the last question." She laughed a little awkwardly, then continued. Does she usually talk this much? Probably, but definitely not like she is now. "Is there anything in particular I should start practicing? Of your songs? I might know a few of the ones from a couple years ago, but other than that."

Usually, Tabby would have just brushed practicing off until rehearsal and try to learn what she didn't know on the spot. But she feels like it'd be better to at least know something of what was going to happen- and, though she wouldn't admit it, she wanted to impress Beau, Maverick and Vivian when they play.

Viv stares for a moment, racking her brain of a coherent answer. She's tired, the exhaustion of the tour and lack of sleep clearly decreasing the speed of her cognitive function. Oh well, nothing a few doses of Benadryl won't solve. "We have a set list and a few notebooks with sheet music, but to be frank, we don't really write a lot down. I'll be shocked if you can nail a song just by searching our notes." As she talks, Viv makes her way to a sloppy pile of spiral notebooks spilled out of a sideways tote bag. She fishes two purple notebooks, one worn and with a cheesy cheetah-print pattern, the other fairly newer and a solid mauve.

"I'd be happy to be of assistance," Beau offers with a wink. He stretches, the hem of his tight shirt riding up to show his abs. "I wrote a majority of our licks."

"Did not, asshole," Viv scoffs, handing the set of books to Tabby. "It was a combined effort, god." Viv sighs, a movement racking her entire body. "I'm going to shower, nobody bother me for at least an hour. If I pass out, let me be. I need the sleep." With that, the bassist exits into her room to grab a suitable set of pajamas and toiletries before ducking into the bathroom and locking the door.