Mitch Visits the Skyline Bar

Michael

The piano bar/lounge at the San Jose Airport Hilton is dark wood paneled, the bar bending around the far wall providing a dozen or so seats; on this Friday night almost all of them are full with what look to Mitch's eye like business travelers. The floor tables hold a few more couples—30-something squares, most of them, out for a night of fruity cocktails and piano-vocal stylings. On the tiny little raised stage there is a baby grand piano and a stool with microphone-and-stand, a tiny little amp, and an acoustic guitar and some gear bags leaning against the wall. Neither Mary-Lynn or her accompanyist Pete Crenshaw are here at this moment; they're due to go on at 8 for the first of two sets. Behind glass on a little cabinet is a tiny poster proclaiming "Every Fri Sat Sun in the Skyway Lounge: vocalist Miss Mary-Lynn Turner with Pete Crenshaw (piano) singing pop hits and standards/2 shows nitely." As Mitch approaches the maitre d' station, the maitre d' looks at Mitch up and down, smiles, and says, "Your table is reserved, sir. Right this way."

In the shadowy corner there is a table for two with a little RESERVED sign on it, and propped up against the sign is Mitch's Lovers tarot card with a big lipstick kiss right over the angel's face. Of course picture the decor more 1970s: lots of abstract midcentury art on the walls and a heavy pall of high-tar smoke.

Michael

Mitch figures he steps in a hotel, there's going to be a bull-man there. Give me a round of Aura Sight rolls, for sure.

Michael

Maybe it's the aura fugue of a couple dozen Friday night inebriates in the lounge, maybe it's nerves about seeing Mary-Lynn, maybe it is a hangup about the dangers inherent in those liminal spaces we call hotels. But it takes three attempts for Mitch to even get a reading on the many auras in the room and after all this fatigue and mess and two beers downed uncomfortably close to each other, he still can't get a real fix on detailed emotions or anything; just the general strength of all the lounge lizards' auras and general mood. And most of them are happy and drunk. None of them vibe as anything other than human.

Michael

The maitre d' apparently doubles as MC as he approaches the mic and gives a very abbreviated introduction. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Skyway Lounge. The San Jose Airport Hilton is proud to present... the lovely and talented Miss Mary-Lynn Turner!"

Mary-Lynn and Pete appear from the backstage (i.e. kitchen) area. Mary-Lynn is stunning in a slinky emerald green dress set off with a hibiscus blossom in her now-wavy auburn hair. Pete is wearing the standard piano man tux, but it's a little hipper, a little shaggier than he might have worn five years ago. But Pete himself, other than a pair of long-ish sideburns and the tux, is groomed like he could be playing a lounge in 1963: dark hair slicked back, and a pair of glittering silver cufflinks. He appears to be about the same age as most of the lounge lizards: in his mid 30s.

Mary-Lynn smiles at the crowd (not making eye contact with Mitch ... yet) and grabs the mic and unwraps the cord to the sustained applause from the lounge. "Thank you, thank you, what a wonderful Friday night welcome here at the Skyway. I'm Mary-Lynn and I'd like to sing you a few tunes, this is Pete and he is a dynamite piano player and if you're on your way up to the bar, he deserves a little appreciation in that there snifter." Mary-Lynn's diction and pronunciation is crisp and neutral—no trace of the Okie accent, pure Neutral Iowa Broadcaster—although here and there a little piece of syntax like "that there" sneaks in.

"I always sing this number off the top and how could I complain, it's a beautiful little gem crafted by Mr. Burt Bacharach and Mr. Hal David and sung originally by the peerless Mrs. Dionne Warwick. Pete? Do you know the way to San Jose?" With that, Pete cracks straight into their standard opening number with a wry smile.

During the song Mary-Lynn makes a couple of ironic grimaces at the more obvious parts of the lyrics (obviously chosen by the hotel management to make people feel at home here at the Hilton): at "You can really breathe in San Jose/They’ve got a lot of space/There’ll be a place where I can stay," she gives a bit of a weary eye-roll (while smiling) and then makes direct eye contact with Mitch and sends him a sly wink.

So Mitch notes Mary-Lynn's talent first. She's got a voice: versatile, strong, a little raspy at times but not unpleasantly so. Her between-song patter is probably the best part of the gig: that outgoing, ditzy sort of vibe she showed off at the McDonald's meet-cute translates really well onstage. She doesn't take herself too seriously, Pete acts as a decent straight man, she singles out a couple of square-looking business travelers, asking their names and what they're doing in town, flirts with them lightly but is mostly sort of sub rosa taking the piss without their noticing ... she's got a command of the room that puts everyone at ease even when she's being arch or putting on a show of being ditzy or oblivious. Mitch can tell pretty easily, through aura sight and social skills both, that she's good and practiced at putting on that act.

(If Mitch is keeping his aura sight up throughout the gig, he can give me a new set of rolls to see if/how the vibe of the crowd changes.)

She's sort of openly ironic about the lounge gig at times as the crowd gets a few more drinks in them, saying things like, "The hotel entertainment director likes it when I play mood music, easy listening, beautiful music—and don't get me wrong, I do love to sing the radio hits—but these next few? They are for me, thankyouverymuch."

The first few songs of Mary-Lynn's set are straight-ahead radio Top 40/easy listening hits. She introduces the pair of Judee Sill songs with that bit above about them being "for her"—sort of challenging material for a lounge gig, granted—but she manages to retain Judee's weirdness while giving both songs a bit of a belt as well. Combined with the Neil Young and Mama Cass, it's a weird (and Weird, considering the images of apocalypse and flying saucers and earthquakes and cross-building messiahs) mid-set quartet, but the crowd really seems to enjoy them.

By the time Mary-Lynn gets to "The Circle Game" (Mitch immediately recognizes the chord structure as Pete provides a lengthy intro Mary-Lynn talks over), she says, "Ladies and gentlemen, I met a nice young gentleman the other day who apparently plays a mean guitar and usually for this next song I'd put on my ol' beat-up guitar over there but I was wondering if he'd want to sit in on this number." Mary-Lynn, face illuminated by the little lounge spotlight, holds her arm out as she looks directly at Mitch's little corner table.

Michael

If there was going to be another aura activation, this might be a good time to do it now that Mitch can see the whole of the audience. But that's some mighty fine pickin' and a-singin'.

Michael

Apparently the Skyway Lounge is a low-mana zone or something.

Michael

I mean, Mitch is not only trying to play chords and Detect History B at the same time, but he's also got this beautiful girl giving him a smirk and a wink after he makes his little comment. And the three of them play beautifully together, and after the last notes of "The Circle Game" fade from the vox amp and from the piano and guitar, the crowd's applause is sustained and appreciative. Mary-Lynn does an acknowledgement of her guest accompanist once more and gives Mitch a peck on the cheek and steps up on tip-toes to whisper in his ear, "Hang tight after the first set, I'll come have a drink with you."

Michael

So as I said, Mary-Lynn's closer is "Leavin' on a Jet Plane" segueing into a little instrumental piano reprise of "San Jose" that allows Pete to strut his stuff, as Mary-Lynn does even more of the lounge schtick, telling the crowd they're a tremendous audience, etc. etc. And after the first set most of the business travelers and couples have gotten their fill of the lounge, finish their martinis and margaritas, and head off to whatever it is people do at San Jose on a Friday night. And Mary-Lynn, after doing a post-set check-in with Pete, ambles over to Mitch's secluded little corner. She smiles, signals for the barman to bring her a white wine spritzer.

"You're good. I mean, I didn't think I'd faze you with that impromptu performance request, but yeah. You rolled with the punches pretty darn well." Mary-Lynn more or less confirming that she was testing Mitch with her little dare. "You're very good."

Michael

Mary-Lynn blushes right down to her feet. "Shucks, you think so?" Mary-Lynn says, "These lounge crowds are pretty easy, all things considered. You got your locals who are here for a nice night out, and like I said the other day, you got your business travelers stuck in San Jose over a weekend. Everybody's just looking for a little bit of joy and delight to get them through it all, after all." Mary-Lynn looks more seriously at Mitch for a minute. "But also, yeah, speaking of the other day... sometimes I just know which person in the audience to pick out for a little bit of special treatment to get the crowd on my side. That little voice. Been like that since I was a kid doing dance recitals or chorus or whatever. Get a bunch of people in a room and I can sorta... sense the most important person there."

"Mitch. You're the most important person here tonight. To me." More blushing, as she picks up the Lovers card if Mitch hasn't already and hands it back to him, lingering on touching his hands as she does so.

Michael

Mary-Lynn's eyebrow shoots up at the Satanic temple stuff. She takes a sip of her spritzer, and says, "No hoard of gold, huh? That's a pity. I could still truss you up and sacrifice you to Satan, if you really wanted." A smirk over the rim of her glass.

"I've been called the devil's daughter enough times because of this hair, but that might be the most charming of said incidents ever."

Michael

"It is," Mary-Lynn takes another sip. "Rose of Sharon." She smiles. "Let me see if I can remember how it goes from Sunday school ... 'Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.'" Mary-Lynn looks down at her spritzer, almost gone now. "Hmm, I guess we'll need to wait and see on that one." A devious smirk.

"'Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, yea, pleasant: also our bed is green. The beams of our house are cedar, and our rafters of fir.'" Mary-Lynn looks around at the wood paneling in the lounge. "Well, sorry I don't have a bed of verdant greenery... more like orange rayon blankets on a California king." Mitch sees her fidgeting with her bag, a Hilton room key in her hand. "But I might be flipping ahead in the Song of Songs a li'l bit." She blushes. "I've still got a few more of my own songs to sing tonight. Speaking of which," she says, changing the subject from the Bible's hottest book and letting the blush drain from her cheeks, "what did you think of the set list? Be honest."

Michael

Mary-Lynn laughs out loud for the first time all night, a broad, brassy cackle. "Aw well, you know, I try to give the tourists something a little bit kooky for their trip to the Bay. But I do love Judee, and Neil, and Joni, like I mighta mentioned. I kind of want every song on the radio to be as weird and unique as theirs are. So that's why I try to give the straights a little bit of that weirdness if I can."

"All right, I have to get my game face back on now. Second show's the same as the first, and the crowd's invariably drunker, so I won't be offended if you have to take a walk or something. But uh," and she pauses as she gets up from the table, "I did get a room, and if you wanted, I was thinking we could get a bottle of champagne and maybe some dessert sent up afterwards, if you were wantin' to hang out and talk some more." More blushing.

Michael

No History B on her, no History B anywhere in the Skyway Lounge, no History B in the sliver of lobby visible from Mitch's table.

Michael

Yeah, no oddities, no weirdness, and a little bit of a sparser crowd for the 10 o'clock set, but Mary-Lynn keeps her charm on and Mitch notices the same connection she makes with the audience—whether it's from her mundane talent as a performer or a little bit of a psi "push"—is evident. Since this is by far the longest Mitch has gotten to spend with Mary-Lynn in her presence, it feels right for Mitch to deduce (through those two skills) that Mary-Lynn's gifts, however they might manifest—are slight: in game terms (which I'm okay explicating things in since more than half of Mitch's coworkers have psi powers and the ones who don't use Anunnaki source code on the reg) Mary-Lynn's got some psi-based Empathy, maybe a tiny bit of Luck to be in the right place at the right time; at the very least her abilities seem to run in the Serendipity family. But they all seem passively-activated, not something she's had a lot of time to hone except in the context of her performance skills bringing the abilities out. Hell, even her flirtation with Mitch has had a performative aspect; it gets Mitch thinking of how Viv got the gang of Atlanteans at the hotel last weekend to all start pulling in the same direction through radical storytelling and role-assuming, but on a radically smaller and more intimate scale. It gets Mitch thinking about charisma, and leadership, and the vague elements of esmology he's picked up over the years hearing Arch and Sophie talk ... some people are just sort of innately able to pull people to them, and Mary-Lynn is one of them, but a small fry on that scale.

Mitch also wonders if this particular portfolio of powers is going to be what SRI is necessarily looking for, and whether they're even testing for this kind of thing.

Michael

Yeah, the "voice in my head" thing seems to be linked with her ability to be in the right place/right time... I think she had expressed the feeling like she can't, like, actively activate it.

Michael

That's accurate. I'd say Mitch for some reason also wouldn't be surprised to find out she's low-level Lucky as well.

Michael

After the late set, Mary-Lynn waits for the lounge to thin out a little bit, helps Pete break down the stage, and comes over to where Mitch is sitting. "So. Nightcap?"