DANCE PARTY [private]

So what drove Nelly to the amphitheater today, you may ask? She wasn't a performer. She didn't even know how to play a chord on the guitar.

But there she was anyway, sitting down where the audience would be on any performance night, bobbing her head to the tinny music her iPod Touch was blaring out of its (pathetic) speakers instead of keeping her headphones in. Her siblings didn't like it when people blasted music in the cabin since a lot of them liked to play their own instruments -- which she respected. She didn't like it so much when people began to trash her taste in music because 'dubstep's not real music' and 'that's too much autotune and other crap they liked to regularly spew. Who the hell cares if Ke$ha used autotune? She earned more than the whole camp combined, anyway.

Those damned music supremacists. Nelly didn't need them. Nelly didn't need to hang out with them.

Her iPod lay in the seat beside her as she tapped her foot to the beat of some Deadmau5 song, humming to herself alone in the large amphitheater. Did she have no friends? HA. No. She just liked the solitude -- and it got her mind off the hustle and bustle of the infirmary and all the crying kids who seemed to have little to no common sense running in and out. (Seriously. She didn't have a life outside of that place. What the hell?)

You know what being alone meant? Nelly could start dancing for all anyone cared. She had a mean one-two step, buttttt... dancing alone was sorta weird. What if a god was watching? They'd send her straight to hell if she didn't do the macarena right, probably. (Looking at you, Zeus.)

[ooc: tl;dr translation is "my siblings don't like me playing my music so i'm gonna brood alone here and maybe start dancing idk" it's all very disjointed but that's how the girl thinks sometimes]

[ooc:Listening to Deadmau5 right now :D. Ok.]
BIC: Emmy had his mom's old Sony Walkman in his pocket, trying to find the best reception in the Amphitheater. He turned it onto Long Island's Q104.3 Classic Rock Station and sat down in a good spot (As good as a stone bench can be)

He sat there with his eyes closed tapping his foot to the beat of Eye of the Tiger. Soon he was air-drumming along to the beat and even farther along, he was fingering bassoon fingerings.

The next thing he new, the song switched to Back In Black. His head bobbed and his arms started to wiggle a little and then he was moving them in a dance-move kinda thing. Quickly, he opened his eyes and checked his surroundings. He didn't get embarrased easily, but dancing alone could probably, no-definately do it.

All he saw was Clovis the Hypnos kid sleeping on a bench and a girl standing only about 20 feet away from him to the side. He quickly stopped moving, took the earphones out of his ears and sat down, quickly saying "Hey, how's it going?", blushing and looking away.

You might not be able tell, but Emmy wasn't good with girls.

[OOC: Good post?]

[ooc: very beautiful]

"Uhh?" Almost like magic, a boy had mysteriously come along and sat down beside Nelly -- not on her iPod, thank the gods, which already had a nicely cracked screen thanks to her dropping it a few months ago -- despite the fact that literally every other seat in this place was open. Why. Why would he do this to her? And when the hell did he even get there? She hadn't noticed him when she got here like twenty minutes ago, or maybe she hadn't heard him walk in over all her music. This was like getting on an empty bus and then the next stop the one person who gets on decides to sit next to you and chat you up. Creepy as hell, although she supposed that some people didn't like being alone (including her). "Uh. Well. It's all going fine and stuff, I guess. How about... you?"

Was it clear that she was slightly uncomfortable? Maybe. Eyes forward still, leaning back in the seat, still bobbing her head to her music even when it changed to Amy Winehouse, she probably didn't look too friendly or open right now so she didn't know she he had even bothered to come along.

(OOC: I can already tell this'll be hilarious XD. and thanks)
BIC: Emmy could already tell that this was going to be awkward, but it'd be even more awkward to just ignore her. Then again..........nah.

The girl seemed startled, even annoyed at his presence. She didn't meet his eyes, or even turn her head, but she frowned, and her eyebrows were scrunched. As far as Emmy could tell, she hated him already, and he didn't like that. It wasn't justified.

"It's going great. What're you listening to?" he asked quietly and gently, as if talking any louder would set off a bomb.

And now he was whispering to her? Jesus Christ, this was getting weird. If it became too much for her, Nelly was very well-versed in punching people in the face and running the hell away from them like they were some sort of big monster she didn't want to fight -- she had done it plenty of times when she was younger, avoiding the Ares kids to keep her beautiful face away from the dirty-as-sin toilets in the girls' bathroom. It had always worked, too, even though she wasn't exactly that fast at running; it was more like the Ares girls who chased her were just dense as hell.

Quickly, she peered over at her iPod and clicked it on for a second to check the song. The damned thing was on 45%, but that was probably because she'd been playing games on it during slow hours at the infirmary. "'Rehab' by Amy Winehouse, may her soul rest in peace. Beautiful voice and all, gone too soon."

Emmy was sensing the tension in the air. It was bad. Pretty much the worst possible situation ever, until she let loose this opening to relieve all that unwanted tension. "Amy Winehouse, eh? Nice choice. Alcohol poisoning did her in, wasn't it? Sad, sad. Do you listen to Classic Rock or Old American Country at all?" he asked cautiously.

"Yeah, think that was it. Alcohol poisoning." She'd died two years ago, so Nelly probably wouldn't be able to remember how exactly it happened or most of the finer details about it. "I hate country, but classic rock is good. Don't delve into it that much, though, thanks to all the stupid music supremacists in my cabin who like to criticize anything that isn't Queen or Journey or Van Halen or whatever."

"Which bands do you like then? Some of my favorites are Joan Jett, Def Leppard, AC/DC and Black Sabbath." he said. It was working, and the tension was slowly dissipating.

"Yeah, they're all nice. I like Led Zeppelin, Kiss... Van Halen. Aerosmith." Gods, she could barely remember any of the bands she liked. Was that a bad thing? Probably. She had some songs from all of those bands on her iPod, but there was so many songs on there in general that she usually just skipped over a bunch until she found one she wanted to listen to.

Such was life.

"Do you have a certain favorite genre?" he asked. These days it was 'Nintendocore' or 'Chap Hop' or something else as or more stupid than before. Ugh.

Nelly shrugged as the song changed again, this time to "Ghost" by the Mystery Skulls -- the animated video some dude did had been pretty good, so she had sort of... illegally downloaded the song. Youtube-to-MP3 online converters were a blessing to this earth. "Nah, dude. I just listen to whatever and hope it sounds okay. If not -- change it. Country's the only, like, 'mainstream' one I really hate with a passion."

(OOC: do you want me to post longer? Because if you want me to, I will)
BIC: "OK......is it just the new country crap they play on the radios these days, or johnny cash and willie nelson kinda stuff, or just country overall?" He asked. Not a lot of people here at camp liked country, then again not a lot of people from Canada liked country music either.......because they, you know, have never heard it before. But Emmy got into it as soon as he got to America. The old country genre was the best, because it just.......sounded better. Nowadays the only country music that anyone ever played was about getting drunk in the nearby city and picking up random girls. How immature.

[ooc: nah, post as little/as much as you want. doesn't matter to me.]

"All of it. There's just something sorta weird about it -- or something, I dunno exactly why I hate it. Modern country just sounds whiny; old country just is... bleh. Nothing appealing about it to me, but like what you like." Nelly made a face and checked her iPod's battery percentage. Nothing to worry about for now, although in maybe another hour or so she'd be running for her charger back at her cabin or begging someone to loan her theirs for a even a few minutes.