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The line to get inside isn't so long, but I've been standing here a while. It's one of those shows where drive-swapping and drive-sharing aren't allowed, so it takes a bit for everyone to get through the door.

For us bioware AISRs, the check's more like any other concert. Get scanned down to make sure you don't have anything they don't want you bringing in. But I'm not hoarding any hard drives, so I'll probably get through nice and quick.

Peyton gets tapped on the shoulder by a younger-looking bioware AISR while in line. Peyton wears triangle shades, a party hat, and some pins. The bioware aisr wears square shades, a striped long-sleeved shirt layered under a t-shirt, and has hair that's bleached at the tips.

Hey! I like your outfit!! Are you bioware too?

I am!

I take to chatting along with another bioware AISR in line. The line shifts upwards in a slow-ish crawl, and eventually I meet the entrance.

Great Annihilator stands stiffly at the doorway with one of those sword-like metal detectors.

AH, PEYTON. GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN.

We both bow at each other.

Door checks kicking your butt this time? I heard it was pretty rough a few shows ago.

THE SOFTWARE FOR IT IS MORE EFFICIENT NOW, THANKS TO THE HELP OF THE TEAM. ARMS OUT TO THE SIDE, IF YOU'D PLEASE.

I spread my arms out like wings. GA scans me down swiftly...

Two panels. The first panel is Peyton's arm out to the side, displaying xyr missing finger. The second is Great Annihilator hesitation. GA is missing half of GA's face, wears a belt over GA's mouth, and wears fishnets and a ripped up tank top. GA has cyberlox in pigtails, as well as white rat tails.

...But hesitates upon seeing my right hand, my missing finger.

AH, SHE...

GA slightly recoils. I break into a nervous sweat almost immediately.

APOLOGIES, NO MATTER. SHE...

COME ON IN.

The venue itself is smaller, mostly a standing room. Chairs line the sides, where the more Hardwired-looking folks sit and most likely talk amongst themselves. The stage is dim, save for a spotlight at the opening DJ, but the floor is lit up by the eye-displays and antennae and miscellaneous other glowing items of over a hundred different machines. I dig into the sea of light, dancing in motion with the rest of the crowd.

Peyton, in magenta, dances against a sea of undiscernable faces, in white.

The crowd suddenly cheers. I turn my head to see Party Death Machine & co. working together to push equipment on stage. Party gives a wave to the crowd, which cheers in unison again.

Pulsewidth wastes no time breaking away from the other two to set up a microphone for himself. While Pearl's Girl and Party Death Machine work at plugging things into their equipment as well as themselves in the background, the opening DJ steps on stage and all eyes are on Pulsewidth.

Thank you all for being here.

Pulsewidth stands on stage, looking out to the crowd cheering. In the background, Party Death Machine is connecting cables to itself, and Pearl's Girl is moving something onstage.

We've got new works, we've got old hits. We've got working equipment, and we've got workarounds.

As synth sounds rise in the back, a voice comes over the speakers, flat-toned and androgynous.

Say it to my face next time.

As the crowd thins, I linger around a little longer, just watching. When I turn my gaze back to the stage, lights pouring upon the equipment of the group to play last, I see Party scanning the room.

Two panels. The first one is a shot of Peyton's eyes, and the second one is a shot of Party Death Machine's 'eyes.'

One panel. PDM motions 'come here' to Peyton.

It's so exciting to finally meet you!! I went through your blog and you seemed super cool!!!

Pearl's Girl jumps up and down in place. I couldn't feel more shy.

I've heard some about you too! Like how you thought Party was hardwired!

Ah--? It's not...?

I glance over at Party Death Machine. Pulsewidth connects it to what looks like a cheap bluetooth speaker through an auxiliary cable, then shoves it inside Party Death Machine's chassis.

I guess it was kind of jarring when I saw pictures of you all together... I had it in my head that you all were a Hardwired group up until I looked you all up…

Sorry to confuse you.

...And from what *I've* heard, this is the first time you're hearing PDM's voice, despite working with 'em for a while.

Pulsewidth nudges Party with his elbow.

Eheh... s'no big deal, seriously. I'm glad to have the chance now.

Party Death Machine rummages around in its chassis again, probably trying to settle the speaker into a more comfortable position.

Many surprises tonight. I had no idea you were bioware. Seems like Pearl's Girl figured it out early.

Oh, jeez...

I didn't want to out you to the others, so I just kept my mouth shut. Like, what if you didn't show up in your cute getup?

Pearl's girl smiles brightly to Peyton. Peyton is blushing and looks a little embarassed.

Do you have a namesake, then?

I shuffle in place awkwardly. I'm starting to feel like I couldn't want all eyes on me any less.

I had a self-appended one for a while, but it, uh, never really caught on...

I try to pull my posture back into something more polite and bubbly, but I can't really muster it. I hang my head a little.

...But, uh, I'm fine being Peyton! For the time being, at least. Until I get a namesake for real.

Pulsewidth nudges Party Death Machine again, whispering something to him.

No shame in not having a name. Didn't get mine for a long, long time.

But you got yours from the record store.

Party Death Machine knocks into Pulsewidth with the point of its elbow.

Are you guys, like… friends? You two take a lot of jabs at one another…

Known 'em since 2007. Couldn't be closer.

Pulsewidth has a hand on PDM's shoulder. PDM stands neutrally.

They just bicker like an old couple… I catch them being kind a lot more than you'd think!

Is that right?

I take a longer look at the two for a moment. For a second, under this lighting, I swear they have identical scratches on their metal.

Well hey, if I can get ol' Party Death Machine here to get you a name, maybe I could assemble some gear for you.

Pulsewidth motions at the crudely drawn lines on my arms, done in eyeliner.

Ah… I'm sure that'd cost a bit, right? Lowest commission price I've seen is about 250…

I'll do it for 30.

W-what???

My mouth hangs open.

Hey, I've been itching for a new project anyways. My shop's been slow. Most interesting thing I've done in a month is an intensive tune-up.

While Pulsewidth crosses his arms, his posture is so loose that it seems like it's absolutely no sweat off his back.

But 30 is so low…

So what? I've got gigs like this, it's no problem.

I pause for a moment. Everything in my life is starting to line up a little too nicely, I'm starting to wonder at what point something will really be too good to be true…

Up to you, though. No pressure. I'm just looking for anything to do is all.

I'll think about it… Ah, do you have any way I can, like, contact you?

He picks up a pen sitting on a nearby music stand. Paper is nowhere in sight, so he motions out for my arm, and writes his number.

You can find me on the AISR roster & forum as well. Pulsewidth of Selected Ambient Works 85-92.

Got it.