[center][color=red][h1][u][b]Let there be music...[/b][/u][/h1][/color][img]http://24.media.tumblr.com/65c334aeb722aa588dcdf36d051fff59/tumblr_mjjkazwGM21rxn97oo1_500.gif[/img]
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[color=red][b]Where:[/b] The Party[/color]
[color=red][b]Who:[/b] Entire crowd, though Sophie Blackthorn is somewhat called out. [@Ace of flames01][/color]
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Jack hated the sand. Gritty, rough and coarse it got into every part of the equipment and really ruined it. He was just glad it wasn't his equipment, just his laptop, that was down on the beachfront. If he had been asked to bring his own gear as well he would have simply turned down the job. He valued his tools far more than he valued this pay cheque. Short of Jack's complaints, however, he was happy. The party was big, he would get some notice, make a pretty penny and his gear was safely locked away at his home. All in all there was nothing to complain about. Well, except the bonfire. UV and neon affairs worked just fine, these were the people who danced, but the bonfire cast such a huge glaring light that the dancers were a strange mix of blue and orange that didn't fit right. One minute you'd be dancing in relative darkness, to make the glows work, the next you turned and were blinded by the flames. Before turning away and now being able to see next to nothing. However, it wasn't Jack's job to organise the whole party. He was just the entertainment for something other than endless replays of 'Africa' and 'Wonderwall'. 

Standing to one side for a moment, Jack checked his attire. Whilst he worked to always be an assault on the commonplace, the mention of water and the outdoors -as well as the fact he was working- meant Jack had gone more casual in his choices. His reliable black converses made walking in the sand a little difficult when it shifted, however they were comfy and had seen more mud and rain than many had in the trenches of the First World War, he liked the reliability. From there, his socks were invisible and the dark light meant his somewhat pale legs were mostly unnoticeable. Which suited Jack. His shorts were a slim fitting denim affair and topped with one of Jack's own tees, this being fitted to match everything else. His hair, normally styled somewhat forward, was mostly slicked back. Again, working sometimes brought about a sweat which he preferred to keep out of his hair, but also he was in no mood to see something well styled go to nothing with the first introduction of water. Thus the casual look had been born for Jack. He doubted anyone would care though, this didn't seem the affair to come suited and booted to. 

With the last note of a song coming to an end, heralding the beginning of another, Jack realised this was his time to prep before he started. The party had started at nine, though many would certainly file in late and Jack was contracted from ten until one. A three hour set was huge, and Jack wouldn't normally take it, but this was his first big event for his peers. He wouldn't fall in the face of this adversity. Everything on the decks was in order, and Jack was pleased to see a sealed bag of sunflower seeds tucked neatly into a crevice on the set. A tug on the corner spilled out the bountiful gold and brown harvest, which Jack cheekily took in his stride. Tucking one of the seeds into his mouth to gently chew whilst he worked. Making sure the speakers were still directing the recorded tracks out, he lifted up a pair of headphones, testing some of the knobs and dials and running some of his own checks on melodies he had pre recorded. Everything seemed to be in order, even the microphone which was hooked up next to the laptop was of the quality he had asked for. All in all, despite the sand, the decks were looking just as he wanted them. He still preferred his own. The set felt new, and he liked the pits and pores on his own. They reminded him of the good times. Before the song ended, Jack moved and swiftly put out any of the lanterns near the decks that might illuminate him,as well as kicking the glowsticks on the floor away so he was cast into as much shadow as possible.

Now was not the time to reminisce though, he heard the final note of the track die away and knew he was up. The pulsing crowd had been dancing around him and up on the patio, but nothing too wild had begun. People were still somewhat sober and the music had been about as exciting as a first day at school. A few moments of genuine pace and energy, followed by some uncomfortable looks around to see if you were the only one doing anything. In fact, with no new track having started yet, Jack himself was receiving some of these looks. Attention was what he needed. Putting the headphones over his ears, Jack hunched over his set, turning the first switch he could just hear his own voice as he leaned into the mic. His voice was nothing special, but it passed as half decent, and he couldn't even begin to explain the pain of trying to sing whilst lining up the next changes.

[color=red]"She said, Brother, are you satisfied, with the way you've been living your life?"[/color] He moved his lips away for the pause, as he did so, a low single drum beat started up in time with the words as he sang them. [color=red]"I know it's predictable and, somewhat cliche. But if you wanna get your point across these days, you gotta be real real real straight."[/color] Again, Jack moved away from the mic to layer over a somewhat soothing guitar melody. Finally, he leaned into the mic again. [color=red]"Are you satisfied? Are you satisfied? Brother, are you satisfied?"[/color] This final set of words repeats again and again, as with each rendition the guitar fades away and the drum becomes louder, faster and more beats are added. By the time Jack stops singing the guitar is gone, replaced with a drum and bass track. Around him, the crowd, who seemed to be swaying only moments before, were bouncing more excitedly. Jack could do better. Testing sounds in his ears, Jack then lifts one of the headphones off so he can hear the pace of the track. During a split second of the song that is silent, Jack cuts it completely. But, before there can be complaints of turning off the music, a new song is dropped. Whilst the core beat of bass is the same, thus the dancers being able to keep their moves, Jack picks an EDM track. One with a much faster tempo on the layers. 

As the new song plays, Jack is already preparing himself for a switch, head bouncing as he listens to both what he has prepared and the current track at the same time, making sure to match the speeds perfectly. Unbeknownst to Jack, who is not used to a plinth without sides, -and which is not a plinth at all- a small crowd had gathered to the sides of the decks. Causing him much shock as, with his next change where he suddenly reverses the beat and then brings it back again only with a new song (This time with stronger reggae vibes, but just as much pace, try chilling to that Bob Marley), he gets a few whoops and cheers. Looking to one side, Jack manages to miss his queue to enter in another layer. And grumbles a little to himself as he waits for the song to come around for him to do so again. It wasn't that he minded cheering. He just hadn't expected it on his flanks and so close. Letting the song run down, the pace reduce, Jack looks up and gives a huge grin as he lets go of his set, not before flicking a switch and dropping all the layers he had just made, except for the lone beat of a drum. 

Looking into the crowd, Jack begins to clap in time with the beat, some of whom follow his lead, others whom dance to it. And some who stand still, clearly not impressed by a DJ who actually wanted some interaction with his audience. Those people should go back to their primary school discos, Jack thought. Pushing those thoughts down he stopped a moment to begin the opening words to Foals 'Mountain At My Gates'. However, on the original where the other instruments enter, Jack puts in a different drop. Returning the music with layers of electronic horns and a new melody very unlike that of the original. Not quite as ear splitting as the earlier music, far more a dance number, and still layered with the lyrics. Having made an entrance Jack was happier to play his lighter dance tracks now, as well as some remixes, only because he had a long set to do. And he wanted a chance to take drinks, talk to anyone who came up close enough, and enjoy the crowd around him. However, from what he could someone clearly wasn't enjoying him, as a girl pushed her way all the way through the crowd just to get to the other side. Chuckling he took a step to the mic and sang out a few more lyrics to the current song.

[color=red]"Little black bird, caught in a storm. She looks so out of place, and is knocked from space to space. Where will the wind carry her next?"[/color] With that Jack made a few alterations and let the song mold into one of his older tracks. Something carrying an 80s feel to it, that allowed people to dance, but again lessened the impact of the song on the ears.