(no subject)

[hybriddick]

Finding this guy was far from easy. Oliver gave up more than once, thinking it just the concocted fantasies of a junkie unable to cope with his friend's death. Try as he might, Oliver never seemed to catch the seemingly impossible broadcast. All of his research said nothing had ever been on that particular channel in the area, or even the region. Dead air between channels. But Cooke was always insistent about it, in that way that was always a little difficult to deny as truth, even from a junkie.

Then one night, Oliver heard it. He'd left the radio hissing in his office as he'd fallen into other work. And there it was. The fast-talking DJ with eclectic tastes. He was actually real. This gave him something to work with.

In the end it took multiple favors owed and cashed in to get something solid. And what he had seemed utterly ridiculous. A radio spirit. At least that's what it was referred to. Something that wasn't quite tangible. Unreachable. A friend of his was able to dig out and interpret some literature on it. To contact this guy required genuine magic. Even in a world of vampires, Oliver found that difficult to believe.

That was how he'd found himself in the middle of nowhere. Up in the hills where two roads intersected near the base of a radio tower. On the old, cracked pavement he'd used chalk to draw out the intricate pattern of symbols around the crude circle. From a bag at his side, he gingerly pulled out something sealed in plastic. A record more than eighty years old. This wasn't the first time he'd tried this little ritual, but this was the item he'd apparently been missing. The first time he'd tried an old iPod he'd picked up for cheap at a pawn shop, but it apparently didn't have the sentimental resonance required. The record certainly fit the bill.

The record had belonged to his father, Harvey, who'd died when Oliver was a kid. He'd barely played it since then, but it was something he knew well. He always knew he needed to do his best to cheer up his father when he heard the old, scratchy recording of the crooning voice. One of those voices that even under the poor recording quality, you could tell was rich and beautiful. It wasn't until he was an adult that he knew what it really meant. The man on the record was the one person his father truly loved. Completely and deeply with all of his heart. He still loved Oliver's mother, but in a different way. It was the 1930's. Times were different. Harvey and his love couldn't be together, but they did what they could. So the record was as sentimental as could be. It was a piece of his father.

Carefully, he removed the plastic disc and brittle paper sleeve from the plastic it had been stored in. "You'd better work," he muttered as he settled it in the center of the circle. He focused as best as he could, pushing doubt from his mind. He felt ridiculous, but at least he was alone. Taking a deep breath, he focused on what he wanted. He had nothing to visualize, but he could focus on the ideas and feelings involved.

As he uttered the necessary words, he drove a pin into the pad of his thumb. Activating the circle, it was apparently called. As he said the final words, he let a few drops fall onto the drawn symbols. And he braced himself for absolutely nothing to happen.

Comments

[transmittings]

The room is white, and polished, and maybe it would have looked oddly sterile if Jairo hadn't been using it for such a long time.

He'd draped scarves all over the lamps, even the desk one, scarves of various ethnicity and age. Even the lights that were supposed to be fluorescent and glaring, Jairo had stood precariously up on his swivel chair and tacked up a series of scarves using thumb tacks and sheer willpower.

There's an entire wall with vinyl, an entire wall with casettes, and the same for CDs. He even has a laptop, bright and new and not quite resembling a MAC, plugged in and ready.

Jairo himself looks like he usually does--simple, dressed down. He's got sneakers worn and scuffed, jeans just as beaten up, and a simple black T-shirt. He's got his hair up in a messy bun, hidden behind a newsboy hat with a few pins in it declaring his love for NWA, Def Leppard, and, apparently, Mozart. It's eclectic, just like he is.

There's only one door. One door, no windows. Oliver hears music, old and antiqued, and the moment Oliver blinks he's whisked to the radio room with no real exit. The door, closed and locked from the outside, it appears. Not that it matters.

Jairo's actually never tried to open the door. It's not that he doesn't want to, it just never occurs to him. The same reason why it never occurs to him that the room changes, or that he always seems to know where something is.

At the moment, he has headphones over his hat, singing loudly but not exactly off-key as he messes with the sound mixer.

"I'm gonna hold my baby as tight as I can,
Tonight she'll know I'm a mighty-mighty man~"

He slides on his swivel chair to the laptop to press a few buttons, slides all the way over to what looks like a milk crate, and pulls something out. A vinyl record.

The same one Oliver had a second ago.

The song ends and as it does Jai swivels again on his chair, using the motion to propel himself absolutely everywhere he goes, and he flicks a switch near the microphone. An 'on air' sign chimes.

"Y-yo yo yo-yo yo yo, this is your usual quick talkin' faster thinkin' livin' legend--nah, it's yours truly, sorry to disappoint. First time listeners, buckle up, things are gonna get weird in your life. Keep happenin' it and keep relaxin' it and it'll all be okay." He examines the vinyl under the light of a lamp, briefly, and whistles.

"Alright alright keepin' up with the oldies but goodies theme we got a request from my main man Oliver. What up O?!" He laughs. "Yeah, thanks for joinin', hope you're listenin', keep chasing your dreams in a sea of possibilities. This one's for you."

Throughout the entire ramble, he's switched out the vinyl and has set it to play, finally turning around to face the door--

And promptly, eyes wide, dramatically putting a hand over his heart.

"You gotta warn a brother the next time you request in person!"