“Here? Jesus Christ, no. I literally mean the cops back home. An officer searched my van once, found a joint, and no joke—I saw the guy smoking it in his own patrol car thirty minutes later.”
Short of the alternate dimension that lurks beneath Hawkins, Indiana isn’t particularly noteworthy. Eddie has spent all his life with that belief, an he refuses to change his mind now. “Yeah, that’s one good thing about it. Beer is like…crazy easy to get,” he concedes. “I was working at a dive bar—heavy emphasis on the dive—before I was eighteen.”
But that was the 80s, and Eddie is still unaware just how much may have changed twenty years later. Chances are, a seventeen year old wouldn’t be hired as a bar back, and he wouldn’t be able to slip his friends drinks any time the owner wasn’t looking.
“But besides that? Not a whole lot about Indiana worth mentioning, so…”
Besides the alternate dimension beneath his small town, but he trails off, taken in by the guitars and literally everything else about this cozy space Teddy has created. He and Nanaue have a good thing going on with Goat Destroyer, and Nanaue came back from the emergent reality with some crazy drumming skills, but Eddie misses playing with other people, just jamming and figure out what works and what doesn’t. He still plays solo more often than not, and there’s something sort of sad about that. But now is his moment to fix it.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
With a grin, he steps right up and reaches for the middle guitar—the Superstrat, just like Teddy expected he might. He’s a free spirit, sure, but when it comes to some things, he’s very predicable.
“She’s beautiful,” he sighs, immediately beginning to pick out an old blues riff. Start off slow, start off easy, launch into the shredding after a bit of a warm-up. He paces the “stage” as he plays, and this is clearly Eddie in his element.
“Man, you have good taste in guitars. I wanna hear the others too. Get up here and join me.”
no subject
Short of the alternate dimension that lurks beneath Hawkins, Indiana isn’t particularly noteworthy. Eddie has spent all his life with that belief, an he refuses to change his mind now. “Yeah, that’s one good thing about it. Beer is like…crazy easy to get,” he concedes. “I was working at a dive bar—heavy emphasis on the dive—before I was eighteen.”
But that was the 80s, and Eddie is still unaware just how much may have changed twenty years later. Chances are, a seventeen year old wouldn’t be hired as a bar back, and he wouldn’t be able to slip his friends drinks any time the owner wasn’t looking.
“But besides that? Not a whole lot about Indiana worth mentioning, so…”
Besides the alternate dimension beneath his small town, but he trails off, taken in by the guitars and literally everything else about this cozy space Teddy has created. He and Nanaue have a good thing going on with Goat Destroyer, and Nanaue came back from the emergent reality with some crazy drumming skills, but Eddie misses playing with other people, just jamming and figure out what works and what doesn’t. He still plays solo more often than not, and there’s something sort of sad about that. But now is his moment to fix it.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
With a grin, he steps right up and reaches for the middle guitar—the Superstrat, just like Teddy expected he might. He’s a free spirit, sure, but when it comes to some things, he’s very predicable.
“She’s beautiful,” he sighs, immediately beginning to pick out an old blues riff. Start off slow, start off easy, launch into the shredding after a bit of a warm-up. He paces the “stage” as he plays, and this is clearly Eddie in his element.
“Man, you have good taste in guitars. I wanna hear the others too. Get up here and join me.”