xp_logs | Reality: Glamour Machine | A Swell of Music (10/12)

In the end, Jono puts on a show after all.

Jono looked at Paige where she'd rushed over next to him and wanted to sob. He hated this. He hated all of this so much. "I'm going in there, and am going to....use the power of imagination and the nuke in my chest to light the damn thing....You need to promise me that you won't follow me in there."

Paige came to a screeching halt as she reached him. “No the fuck you are not. How do you know if that will even work? Isn’t this thing run on magic or whatever?” Jono couldn’t power the machine, who put that idea in his head?

"Yes. I am." He said. "I know that it has to work, and that my power is most similar to its inventor's. I have to try if we want to go home."

“How do you know it’s safe?” Paige had never seen Jono use his powers, but she knew they were volatile. “What if the machine isn’t stable? We repaired what we could but…what if you get hurt? Wait, how are you getting home if you go in there?” Would the portal stay open long enough for Jono to crawl out of there in time?

"My powers don't hurt me. Which is why you need to promise me you won't go in after me." He said, grabbing her by the shoulders. "I- I'll be fine. I'll make it out, but you can't follow me in."

“Promise.” Paige grabbed his hand and looked deep into his eyes. “Promise me you’ll be ok and you’ll make it home, and I won’t follow you in there.”

"No. No bargaining. For once can you just listen to me?! This is my thing. I know the rules of this world, I know how this works. I know what I need to do. You weren't supposed to get wrapped up in this! And if you'd listened to me to begin with, maybe I wouldn't have to do this in order to make sure that you make it home!" He regretted it almost as soon as he said it. "Paige- just- you have to let me do this. It's our only chance and I won't be able to do it if I know there's a chance I could hurt you...I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you in the process. You can't follow me."

“I…” Paige opened her mouth to argue. God, he was so stubborn and sure he knew what was right all the time…but he did have a point. He had known how to avoid this situation, and she had been just as stubborn in not listening. Maybe this situation was her fault. She squeezed his hand before dropping it and backing off. “Ok…I trust you. Send us home.”

If he was wrong or didn’t make it in time, she was running back across that bridge to give him a piece of her mind.

Jono reached out to grab her in a tight hug before he went off to the machine. "I'll be right behind you. Promise . . . I'm sorry for snapping. I'll see you soon, okay? Then holiday like we planned? Yeah? Back to England and we do whatever you want."

“Just…” she sighed and pulled him in even tighter. “Just come back to me, ok? We can figure everything else out when we get out of here.” She didn’t want to, but she pulled back and let him go. “Do what you have to.”

Jono watched her go and centered himself, steeling himself before walking into the engine. He'd never been the best at being creative under pressure like this, it was one thing to be creative in a group. Jam sessions had structure, there were people to follow, phrases to build on- but improvisation while alone? That had always been a different story altogether . . . he’d always hated auditions.

But- there was an idea in his head, had been rattling around there since his and Paige’s trip to London and he tried to focus on it as he slowly undid the wrappings that kept in his eternal flame once inside the engine. With shaking hands, he tried to project his song as loudly as possible, a psychic resonance that the whole hall could hear. It wasn't quite the tune of Star of the County Down, he'd had to change things- slowed the tempo, changed it to a minor key, adjust some pitches, some of the rhythm . . . and by the gods the lyrics needed work, and it wasn't even really a whole song just fragments a verse and a bridge without even a chorus- but it was passable. It was new, he'd created- he'd done something none of those motherfuckers could . . . all he had to do was ignore that he was also singing this in front of Paige's brother.

“I met a girl with golden hair,
Her eyes were blue like the summer skies,
Her voice was soft, a sweet surprise,
And my heart was lost right there.
Her eyes were bright like the summer sky,
Her laughter kind, a soft reply,
Such a bore of a man, merely shook her hand,
And like a dream, she passed me by.

I’ll walk these hills, with my heart so bare,
Wishing she’d know that I love true,
But a wounded heart has caused as scare,
So her love I have not pursued."

He didn't understand it, didn't have a mechanical bone in his body, and had rather intentionally avoided physics whenever possible in school, but the flames were moving with his song. Flickering tendrils of light and heat that climbed along the edges of the metal, heating and expanding it. Nonsense movements that dancers could only hope to emulate, a creative force all their own borne from within himself. For once the flames didn't ignite fear in his heart but instead pride. The gears started to turn, inspired by the flame's movement, expanding, reaching out to touch each other once more as they began to spin in a slow dance that brought the world around him back to life.

Relief flooded his senses as he looked around the inside of the engine. Once he was sure that every gear was as it should be, and that the flame he'd lit would remain he carefully wrapped himself back up, ignoring the blue tint to the flame and the harsh heat against his hands until he was once more contained. He carefully picked his way out of the engine until he was once more with his companions, where he could prove that all was well.