((Maria Graham and Duncan McMahon continued from Kickapoo))
"Their." Maria made a wierd face, mulling the word around in her mouth as if it were part of some crazy alien moon language that defied understanding. "Their. Theeeir."
"What are you doing?" Zach asked as he glanced over at Maria as she said the word 'their' to herself over and over.
"Well, it's kind of a wierd word if you think about it, isn't it?" Maria responded. "Their. Their. Theeeeeir."
A moment of awkward, confused silence passed.
"...their."
"Are you high?" Zach finally said. He'd been trying not to say it for a while, but Maria seemed to be even more out of it than usual.
"No." Maria said simply and innocently enough, and shrugged.
"Oh, okay." Zach knew as well as anyone that Maria didn't need to smoke pot to make everyone around her think she was high as a kite. God only knows how she'd act if she ever WERE high.
"...theeeeee-"
"Well, we're here." Zach pulled into the parking lot next to the White Stallion. The Stallion was a fairly small place, but it was always eager to host the local music talent. Tonight they'd be sharing the spotlight with another, more popular local rock band (nothing that Zach or Maria listened to, though.) In fact, most of their (theeeeeeir...) audience would be there to see Firehouse Sprinklers, though with any luck they'd get a bunch of them to stick around to see this relatively unknown band perform as well.
----------
"Now, if I heard right this place has a bar, so don't go drinking or anything."
"Uh huh."
"And don't talk to any strangers, either."
"Uh huh."
"Are you listening?"
"Yeah, I'm listening." Duncan did his best to supress a sigh. This was downright embarrassing, going to see a punk band perform in his mom's sedan. He would've rather had Maria and Zach pick him up, but his mom insisted on driving him there herself.
As the duo pulled up to the parking lot, Duncan exited the car with great haste. With any luck, he wouldn't have to run into Maria ye-
"Hey, Duncan!"
Duncan turned to see Maria stepping out of a nearby van, followed by a fauxhawk-ed man he assumed was Zach.
Perfect timing... He thought sarcastically as his mom called out to Maria. "Hello, Maria."
"Hey, Mrs. McMahon." Zach offered a wave to the woman in the car, walking up with Maria before extending a hand. "And you must be Duncan."
"Uh, yeah." Duncan responded, accepting the handshake, while Maria headed back to the van, opening up the back.
"Should we pull the equipment out now or wait until the others get here?"
Master Exploder
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Super Llama†
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Master Exploder
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Yossarian†
- Posts: 182
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((Max Crowe continued from Crazy Sunshine))
Riding the wind on a stormy night
Rides a mother's son to take your life.
They say he died ten years ago
But the list of victims seems to grow.
Like father like son the Bible read
Three sixes brand the top of his head
Never heard, seen then too late,
Overkill, seals your fate!!!
There was a time, when listening to music was Max's escape route from the Earth. Whoever wanted to talk with him, had to first remove all the music sources around, to make him even notice, that someone is around him. While it had some perks at the beginning, it soon become an annoyance for him, so he tried hard to learn dividing attention. As they say, practice makes perfect, and now Max could savor the flavor of his new musical purchases, and still function normally in society.
Driven by the host of hell
Wicked smile cross, the showing skull.
The victim dies no fucking loss
Overkill, buries the cross
That scarlet sin the soul is weary
Genre et morte, mal vivire
The fallen angel open the cell,
Overkill's victim enters Hell!
Every new piece of music must have be played at least 10 hours to be properly reviewed. He needed to listen very carefully every guitar riff, every solo, every drum beat. In short, analyze every aspect of every second of the music. After that, when his duty as a 'music freak' was fulfilled, he could finally listen to it, for the simple pleasure of listening to good music. His new Overkill vinyl was playing it's content for the fourth time already. Still not enough to make final judgment, whether it's good or not in Max's opinion. Too bad, he had to stop for a while, as he noticed the sun, dangerously coming closer to western horizon.
Too bad? No way... IT'S CONCERT TIME!!!
Ah yes, the concert. If there was anything, Maxwell loved more than music, that was probably it. He could still listen to music, it was even louder than usually (and of course louder = better), AND he could still have fun from socializing with other people, if by socialize you can name damaging them in the giant pogo under the scene...
Who can tell me who I am
Am I Overkill each death a sin.
Questions linger as I walk the path
I am Overkill, the Devil's wrath!
All right... What to wear, what to wear?
Max opened his closet in search for concert-friendly clothes. His first pick was a pair of black jeans. Well, ALL his jeans were black, so that was actually the easy. The t-shirt and blouse were a little bit trickier part.
Hmm... Definitely nothing new, because it won't be new anymore after the mayhem. Next thing. It's a Punk Rock, yeah? Ok, this The Ramones t-shirt should be good. And the blouse... Hey, wait a minute what is this?
To his utter surprise, he found a Blank Nation blouse. At first he wasn't sure how he acquired it, especially since Maria's band is not popular enough to sell their own clothes and gadgets, but stretching out his memory helped him find the answer.
Oh, I get it. I ordered a custom black blouse with their logo, when they just formed the band. I told them, that I want to have the pride of being #1 fan of their soon internationally famous band... Well, in this case, it's perfect!
For a second, Max even considered wearing a spiked jacket, but he rejected this thought pretty quickly. Better to save it for some more hardcore concert.
The only thing that remained, was the most important part - boots. The most common mistake of every new to the topic, is to go in sneakers. And it's a pretty serious mistake, unless you are a masochist. And so, Max took his favorite combat boots, with additional metal plates to protect his fingers. Perfect defense for his feet, and great offense against fellow fans in pogo. They were heavy as hell, and lacing them was long work, but Max was already used to this.
There! Now I'm ready for some serious ass kicking.
So when you walk alone, in the night
And your bones are chilled, skin so tight!
Beware the sound of a galloping horse
Overkill has another corpse...
"Hey Mark... My parents are still at work?"
"They will be very late as always, Maxwell. You parents are..."
"Yeah, yeah... Extremely busy people, I know. I'm wondering why I even asked..."
Mark was a long time butler of Crowe family. Typical gentleman, who always cared for the house, and it's inhabitants. He was so stereotypic, that sometimes Maxwell even thought, that he's hiding something before him, like a secret Bat-Cave, where his parents (super heroes undercover) have their base of operations against world crime.
Yeah, right. Back to the real world.
"Look, I'm going out for a concert. I don't know, when I'll be back. I'm only taking my wallet. No cellphone or keys, because they will be only a source of pain in the crowd, if you know what I mean..."
"So, should I leave the door open?"
"As always Mark... As always..."
"Also, please remember, that you have singing lesson tomorrow."
"Oh right... Cancel it. I'll be shouting almost all the time, so my voice tomorrow will non-existent."
Max really didn't like to talk with this teadrinker. They never seemed to find any single topic they could talk about. Even about music, as long, as Max wasn't in mood for some classical music. And right now, he was in hurry, so he wanted to leave as soon as possible.
"All right, Mark. I'm leaving!"
"Uhm, Maxwell?"
Max sighed
"What now?"
"The music in your room is still playing. Should I shut it off?"
"Drat, completely forgot about that. Yes, do it, but be gentle, it's a very precious vinyl. Oh, and don't even think about cleaning my room, ok?"
"As you wish"
Ride high, ride tall
Overkill will never fall
Full moon, sharp sword
Satan is your Lord
Midnight, dark sky
Overkill will never die
Blood bath, die fast
Overkill the Devil's wra- *screech*
***
Luckily for Maxwell, the White Stallion was not so far away from his house, so he was at the place about 10 minutes after he left home. He knew the place fairly well, as he was attending every interesting concert. And since there was a lot of concerts around there, he even thought about asking for Regular Customer Card.
When Max was nearby the club, he spotted familiar van on the parking lot. Maria and Zach was already there. He quickly went in their direction.
There they were. Zach, Maria, and Duncan. Max noticed that Maria were opening the back of the van, probably to take out all the stuff for concert. One sneaky attempt later, he was already behind her back. He waived his hand at Duncan and Zach, and quickly shushed them with his finger, so he could surprise Maria.
With sudden move he gabbed her arms, and growled silently (well, silently for a growl anyway) into her ear.
"Satan came for you HEAD!" Max laughed, and went back to his normal voice. "Hey Maria, need some help with the gear?"
Riding the wind on a stormy night
Rides a mother's son to take your life.
They say he died ten years ago
But the list of victims seems to grow.
Like father like son the Bible read
Three sixes brand the top of his head
Never heard, seen then too late,
Overkill, seals your fate!!!
There was a time, when listening to music was Max's escape route from the Earth. Whoever wanted to talk with him, had to first remove all the music sources around, to make him even notice, that someone is around him. While it had some perks at the beginning, it soon become an annoyance for him, so he tried hard to learn dividing attention. As they say, practice makes perfect, and now Max could savor the flavor of his new musical purchases, and still function normally in society.
Driven by the host of hell
Wicked smile cross, the showing skull.
The victim dies no fucking loss
Overkill, buries the cross
That scarlet sin the soul is weary
Genre et morte, mal vivire
The fallen angel open the cell,
Overkill's victim enters Hell!
Every new piece of music must have be played at least 10 hours to be properly reviewed. He needed to listen very carefully every guitar riff, every solo, every drum beat. In short, analyze every aspect of every second of the music. After that, when his duty as a 'music freak' was fulfilled, he could finally listen to it, for the simple pleasure of listening to good music. His new Overkill vinyl was playing it's content for the fourth time already. Still not enough to make final judgment, whether it's good or not in Max's opinion. Too bad, he had to stop for a while, as he noticed the sun, dangerously coming closer to western horizon.
Too bad? No way... IT'S CONCERT TIME!!!
Ah yes, the concert. If there was anything, Maxwell loved more than music, that was probably it. He could still listen to music, it was even louder than usually (and of course louder = better), AND he could still have fun from socializing with other people, if by socialize you can name damaging them in the giant pogo under the scene...
Who can tell me who I am
Am I Overkill each death a sin.
Questions linger as I walk the path
I am Overkill, the Devil's wrath!
All right... What to wear, what to wear?
Max opened his closet in search for concert-friendly clothes. His first pick was a pair of black jeans. Well, ALL his jeans were black, so that was actually the easy. The t-shirt and blouse were a little bit trickier part.
Hmm... Definitely nothing new, because it won't be new anymore after the mayhem. Next thing. It's a Punk Rock, yeah? Ok, this The Ramones t-shirt should be good. And the blouse... Hey, wait a minute what is this?
To his utter surprise, he found a Blank Nation blouse. At first he wasn't sure how he acquired it, especially since Maria's band is not popular enough to sell their own clothes and gadgets, but stretching out his memory helped him find the answer.
Oh, I get it. I ordered a custom black blouse with their logo, when they just formed the band. I told them, that I want to have the pride of being #1 fan of their soon internationally famous band... Well, in this case, it's perfect!
For a second, Max even considered wearing a spiked jacket, but he rejected this thought pretty quickly. Better to save it for some more hardcore concert.
The only thing that remained, was the most important part - boots. The most common mistake of every new to the topic, is to go in sneakers. And it's a pretty serious mistake, unless you are a masochist. And so, Max took his favorite combat boots, with additional metal plates to protect his fingers. Perfect defense for his feet, and great offense against fellow fans in pogo. They were heavy as hell, and lacing them was long work, but Max was already used to this.
There! Now I'm ready for some serious ass kicking.
So when you walk alone, in the night
And your bones are chilled, skin so tight!
Beware the sound of a galloping horse
Overkill has another corpse...
"Hey Mark... My parents are still at work?"
"They will be very late as always, Maxwell. You parents are..."
"Yeah, yeah... Extremely busy people, I know. I'm wondering why I even asked..."
Mark was a long time butler of Crowe family. Typical gentleman, who always cared for the house, and it's inhabitants. He was so stereotypic, that sometimes Maxwell even thought, that he's hiding something before him, like a secret Bat-Cave, where his parents (super heroes undercover) have their base of operations against world crime.
Yeah, right. Back to the real world.
"Look, I'm going out for a concert. I don't know, when I'll be back. I'm only taking my wallet. No cellphone or keys, because they will be only a source of pain in the crowd, if you know what I mean..."
"So, should I leave the door open?"
"As always Mark... As always..."
"Also, please remember, that you have singing lesson tomorrow."
"Oh right... Cancel it. I'll be shouting almost all the time, so my voice tomorrow will non-existent."
Max really didn't like to talk with this teadrinker. They never seemed to find any single topic they could talk about. Even about music, as long, as Max wasn't in mood for some classical music. And right now, he was in hurry, so he wanted to leave as soon as possible.
"All right, Mark. I'm leaving!"
"Uhm, Maxwell?"
Max sighed
"What now?"
"The music in your room is still playing. Should I shut it off?"
"Drat, completely forgot about that. Yes, do it, but be gentle, it's a very precious vinyl. Oh, and don't even think about cleaning my room, ok?"
"As you wish"
Ride high, ride tall
Overkill will never fall
Full moon, sharp sword
Satan is your Lord
Midnight, dark sky
Overkill will never die
Blood bath, die fast
Overkill the Devil's wra- *screech*
***
Luckily for Maxwell, the White Stallion was not so far away from his house, so he was at the place about 10 minutes after he left home. He knew the place fairly well, as he was attending every interesting concert. And since there was a lot of concerts around there, he even thought about asking for Regular Customer Card.
When Max was nearby the club, he spotted familiar van on the parking lot. Maria and Zach was already there. He quickly went in their direction.
There they were. Zach, Maria, and Duncan. Max noticed that Maria were opening the back of the van, probably to take out all the stuff for concert. One sneaky attempt later, he was already behind her back. He waived his hand at Duncan and Zach, and quickly shushed them with his finger, so he could surprise Maria.
With sudden move he gabbed her arms, and growled silently (well, silently for a growl anyway) into her ear.
"Satan came for you HEAD!" Max laughed, and went back to his normal voice. "Hey Maria, need some help with the gear?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Yossarian. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
((Winston continued from: Singalong))
Privately, Winston Parry still very much regarded himself as the odd man out in Blank Nation, although Warren wasn't exactly your typical 'Punk'. He'd seen the odd pictures of himself at one or the other of the band's gigs, and he just looked... bizarre. A short, blond guy in a white outfit standing in front of people like Maria and Zach singing... although he supposed it would have been weirder if he was the leader. That position happily went to Zach.
All the same... Winston had said it before and would probably say it again... Punk lyrics coming from somebody like him made for a peculiar sight and sound, and he was well aware of it. ... But still, if he enjoyed it, why should that even matter?
Winston pulled into the parking lot of the White Stallion, carefully handling his car. It had been a gift from his father, and although it wasn't top of the line or anything, he certainly didn't want to crash it. Winston spotted Maria and Zach already there, along with a couple of other people that Winston knew. One was a familiar face at their gigs - Maxwell Crowe. The guy just loved his music, and he was even wearing that custom Blank Nation shirt that he had. The other guy Winston... didn't really recognise. Maybe he was one of Maria's friends or something.
Winston killed the car's engine and stepped out, making doubly sure that it was locked. He tried to be careful at all times, especially with his posessions. Just because his family was wealthy didn't mean he took things he owned for granted.
"Hey! Hey!" Winston called out as he approached his band and class mates."You all excited? I could barely sit still earlier."
Here's hoping something else won't be making me squirm.
Privately, Winston Parry still very much regarded himself as the odd man out in Blank Nation, although Warren wasn't exactly your typical 'Punk'. He'd seen the odd pictures of himself at one or the other of the band's gigs, and he just looked... bizarre. A short, blond guy in a white outfit standing in front of people like Maria and Zach singing... although he supposed it would have been weirder if he was the leader. That position happily went to Zach.
All the same... Winston had said it before and would probably say it again... Punk lyrics coming from somebody like him made for a peculiar sight and sound, and he was well aware of it. ... But still, if he enjoyed it, why should that even matter?
Winston pulled into the parking lot of the White Stallion, carefully handling his car. It had been a gift from his father, and although it wasn't top of the line or anything, he certainly didn't want to crash it. Winston spotted Maria and Zach already there, along with a couple of other people that Winston knew. One was a familiar face at their gigs - Maxwell Crowe. The guy just loved his music, and he was even wearing that custom Blank Nation shirt that he had. The other guy Winston... didn't really recognise. Maybe he was one of Maria's friends or something.
Winston killed the car's engine and stepped out, making doubly sure that it was locked. He tried to be careful at all times, especially with his posessions. Just because his family was wealthy didn't mean he took things he owned for granted.
"Hey! Hey!" Winston called out as he approached his band and class mates."You all excited? I could barely sit still earlier."
Here's hoping something else won't be making me squirm.
((Warren Brown continued from Rock n' Roll Star))
Warren took a deep breath; he starred at himself in the mirror, shoving a comb through his hair and breaking a few minute tangles as it flowed through. He pulled open one of his drawers, found and brought an stick of gum to his mouth and slotted it inside. He wanted to be perfect; tonight was a gig, the gig, and a reasonably big one considering the size of the band. Other people would be judging him, something Warren absolutely hated. Warren didn't even know if he was ready for this.
Brown starred at his jacket, shaking slightly. What if he messed up? What if the failure of the Gig was his fault?
Maybe I should just stay at home; I'm only bad news to them.
He shook his head, Warren wasn't going to let his pathetic nerves get to him, no, not anymore. He was sick of his emotions and fears controlling him, he joined the band to let loose his feelings not restrict them. Music was his everything, and Warren would rather die than be parted with it.
Jacket on, he headed to his Guitar and strapped the bag it was in round his neck. He had everything, luckily, the place the gig was, was only a few blocks from his home. So he decided to walk. He swallowed his nerves; going through the song list in his head. This was his time to shine, his time to open up, even if it was to a bunch of punk rockers.
The place the Gig was at was already beginning to populate, a few people had arrived, one of them looking pretty eager for them to start. He nodded to the rest of the band
Do more than a nod you idiot
"Hi, How...How is everyone?" He said, taking a light deep breath, it'd be a long night, but hopefully worth the while..
Warren took a deep breath; he starred at himself in the mirror, shoving a comb through his hair and breaking a few minute tangles as it flowed through. He pulled open one of his drawers, found and brought an stick of gum to his mouth and slotted it inside. He wanted to be perfect; tonight was a gig, the gig, and a reasonably big one considering the size of the band. Other people would be judging him, something Warren absolutely hated. Warren didn't even know if he was ready for this.
Brown starred at his jacket, shaking slightly. What if he messed up? What if the failure of the Gig was his fault?
Maybe I should just stay at home; I'm only bad news to them.
He shook his head, Warren wasn't going to let his pathetic nerves get to him, no, not anymore. He was sick of his emotions and fears controlling him, he joined the band to let loose his feelings not restrict them. Music was his everything, and Warren would rather die than be parted with it.
Jacket on, he headed to his Guitar and strapped the bag it was in round his neck. He had everything, luckily, the place the gig was, was only a few blocks from his home. So he decided to walk. He swallowed his nerves; going through the song list in his head. This was his time to shine, his time to open up, even if it was to a bunch of punk rockers.
The place the Gig was at was already beginning to populate, a few people had arrived, one of them looking pretty eager for them to start. He nodded to the rest of the band
Do more than a nod you idiot
"Hi, How...How is everyone?" He said, taking a light deep breath, it'd be a long night, but hopefully worth the while..
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Super Llama†
- Posts: 339
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 7:39 am
"Oh, just pull it out." Zach said in response to Maria's inquiry. "The rest of the gang should be here soon."
Just then, another car pulled up, and a familiar face pulled up. Max had been one of, if not THE, original fans of Blank Nation. Zach couldn't help but grin as he noticed the custom-made Blank Nation t-shirt he was wearing.
"H-" Zach started to greet Max, but abruptly cut himself off as he signaled for them to be quiet, sneaking up behind Maria as she reached for the seat of the drum set and...
"Satan's come for your HEAD!"
"AAH! Wait, I'm not finished with it yet!" Maria yelled in surprise. But the dark lord was merciful, and would come back for her another day.
"Oh hey Max!" Maria turned her head as she heard him talking in his normal, less demonic-sounding voice. "That was a close one. Maybe I shouldn't have sold my soul for that pizza Hot Pocket." Was she joking? With her it was hard to tell.
"Looks like the rest of our help's arrived, too." Zach said once he stopped laughing, spotting the band's other two members approaching. "We're doing great. Listen, I'm gonna head in and get the manager to unlock the back door. The rest of you go ahead and unpack the equipment."
Just then, another car pulled up, and a familiar face pulled up. Max had been one of, if not THE, original fans of Blank Nation. Zach couldn't help but grin as he noticed the custom-made Blank Nation t-shirt he was wearing.
"H-" Zach started to greet Max, but abruptly cut himself off as he signaled for them to be quiet, sneaking up behind Maria as she reached for the seat of the drum set and...
"Satan's come for your HEAD!"
"AAH! Wait, I'm not finished with it yet!" Maria yelled in surprise. But the dark lord was merciful, and would come back for her another day.
"Oh hey Max!" Maria turned her head as she heard him talking in his normal, less demonic-sounding voice. "That was a close one. Maybe I shouldn't have sold my soul for that pizza Hot Pocket." Was she joking? With her it was hard to tell.
"Looks like the rest of our help's arrived, too." Zach said once he stopped laughing, spotting the band's other two members approaching. "We're doing great. Listen, I'm gonna head in and get the manager to unlock the back door. The rest of you go ahead and unpack the equipment."
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Yossarian†
- Posts: 182
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 4:35 am
Max couldn't help, but laugh really hard at Maria's reaction. It looked like, another perfect night, full of laugh and music was coming up.
"Oh geez, Maria... Someone should really teach you some more about trading. I mean... Really? Hot Pocket? You should demand at least 3 extra burgers.."
Meanwhile, Warren and Winston arrived, completing the squad. Zach went to manager, and left them with equipment.
"Hey guys! I hope you'll rock the club today!" Max grinned again, and looked in the back of the van. "Allrighty... So how about... Me and Duncan will take the heaviest things, like the drum kit? We certainly don't want our musicians to injure their back from lifting heavy object, just before their show, eh Dunc... Uh Oh..."
Max's reaction was triggered by the sight of Duncan's boots. Plain sneakers. Obvious suicide on a Punk concert. Seriously, the only thing he could wear, to make things even more fucked up... Would be the sandals. Max sighed, and shook his head a little.
"Oh Christ, Duncan... It's the first concert in your life, isn't it?"
"Oh geez, Maria... Someone should really teach you some more about trading. I mean... Really? Hot Pocket? You should demand at least 3 extra burgers.."
Meanwhile, Warren and Winston arrived, completing the squad. Zach went to manager, and left them with equipment.
"Hey guys! I hope you'll rock the club today!" Max grinned again, and looked in the back of the van. "Allrighty... So how about... Me and Duncan will take the heaviest things, like the drum kit? We certainly don't want our musicians to injure their back from lifting heavy object, just before their show, eh Dunc... Uh Oh..."
Max's reaction was triggered by the sight of Duncan's boots. Plain sneakers. Obvious suicide on a Punk concert. Seriously, the only thing he could wear, to make things even more fucked up... Would be the sandals. Max sighed, and shook his head a little.
"Oh Christ, Duncan... It's the first concert in your life, isn't it?"
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((The mighty movealong post ftw))
Winston always felt a little bad when they were unpacking the equipment. He felt like he should be able to help more than he did, but truth was... well, he just wasn't a strong guy, and the heavy stuff was pretty much beyond him. He did his part though, he supposed, and in the end, that was all that could be asked of somebody... right?
The singer spotted Max giving Duncan's footwear a dubious look, and he laughed. The sentiments were quite, quite clear.
"I think what I wear might have given, uh, Duncan is it? A bit of a wrong impression..." yeah, Winston was most certainly not your typical punk singer, but then again, who was to say he'd seen Winston before anyway?
Winston went over to the van and began looking inside, searching for something that wouldn't be too hard for him to lift.
Winston always felt a little bad when they were unpacking the equipment. He felt like he should be able to help more than he did, but truth was... well, he just wasn't a strong guy, and the heavy stuff was pretty much beyond him. He did his part though, he supposed, and in the end, that was all that could be asked of somebody... right?
The singer spotted Max giving Duncan's footwear a dubious look, and he laughed. The sentiments were quite, quite clear.
"I think what I wear might have given, uh, Duncan is it? A bit of a wrong impression..." yeah, Winston was most certainly not your typical punk singer, but then again, who was to say he'd seen Winston before anyway?
Winston went over to the van and began looking inside, searching for something that wouldn't be too hard for him to lift.
Warren placed his bass down by the stage; he took a deep breath, battling his fears and nerves. He needed an amplifier, where could he find one? He looked around, Zack seemed already in conversation and he couldn't just ask someone in the crowd, how stupid would that look? He noticed Winston heading outside, maybe to get some equipment, Warren decided to follow, he soon found a van containing amplifiers and various other complicated devices.
He spotted Winston trying to unload something, so he decided to help. Anything to make conversation.
"I'll give you a hand with that" Warren said, awkwardly unloading an amp. His arms began to weigh down as the heavy machine attracted to the floor.
"This stuff is heavy huh..."
Don't leave it at that you idiot
"This is going to be one heck of a night" Warren said, slanting his eyes to Winston then back to the amp. This night would certainly be eventful; Warren only hoped it was for the best.
((Sorry about the delay, my memory fails.))
He spotted Winston trying to unload something, so he decided to help. Anything to make conversation.
"I'll give you a hand with that" Warren said, awkwardly unloading an amp. His arms began to weigh down as the heavy machine attracted to the floor.
"This stuff is heavy huh..."
Don't leave it at that you idiot
"This is going to be one heck of a night" Warren said, slanting his eyes to Winston then back to the amp. This night would certainly be eventful; Warren only hoped it was for the best.
((Sorry about the delay, my memory fails.))
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Super Llama†
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"Hey, Ma..."
Duncan was a little confused by Max's reaction. He wasn't sure what he was talking about at first, until he noticed Max was looking at his shoes.
"Huh? What's wrong with my shoes?" He replied as Maria came over to investigate.
"Nooo nononono." Maria said as she caught sight of the footwear Duncan had on. "You can't wear something like those. There's going to be a lot of jumping around and stuff, and if you go out there in those, your feet'll get squashed like pancakes. Feet pancakes! And feet pancakes don't taste very good."
"Well, there's a pair of boots of Duncan's back home. I'll go get them." Duncan's mom said, and before anyone could voice their opinion on the matter she was already pulling out of the parking lot.
"Uh...alright, so that's settled." Duncan said. "So, unload the equipment, right?"
Meanwhile, Zach headed inside to speak to the manager, and after a few minutes the back door opened and he stepped out. "Alright guys, let's hurry it up. Firehouse just started playing."
Duncan was a little confused by Max's reaction. He wasn't sure what he was talking about at first, until he noticed Max was looking at his shoes.
"Huh? What's wrong with my shoes?" He replied as Maria came over to investigate.
"Nooo nononono." Maria said as she caught sight of the footwear Duncan had on. "You can't wear something like those. There's going to be a lot of jumping around and stuff, and if you go out there in those, your feet'll get squashed like pancakes. Feet pancakes! And feet pancakes don't taste very good."
"Well, there's a pair of boots of Duncan's back home. I'll go get them." Duncan's mom said, and before anyone could voice their opinion on the matter she was already pulling out of the parking lot.
"Uh...alright, so that's settled." Duncan said. "So, unload the equipment, right?"
Meanwhile, Zach headed inside to speak to the manager, and after a few minutes the back door opened and he stepped out. "Alright guys, let's hurry it up. Firehouse just started playing."
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Yossarian†
- Posts: 182
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 4:35 am
Max smirked under his nose.
Heh... Feet Pancakes. Whole Maria...
"She's right Duncan. Why do you think, I put on this combat boots in the first place? You must protect yourself, or else you're a toast. Or pancake for that matter..."
Then, the woman (Max completely forgot she was there), as Maxwell guessed, Duncan's mom offered she'll get him better boots from his home. Now THAT was at least confusing...
"Uh...alright, so that's settled." Duncan said. "So, unload the equipment, right?"
"Dude..." Max couldn't restrain himself from asking. "You're with your mom at the concert?"
One look at Duncan's puzzled face made Max know, that he just stepped on very delicate topic, and he should drop it immediately.
"You know what? On a second thought, what do I care? Let's finish the work with equipment"
Soon enough, Zach was back and gave them signal to hurry up. Max wasted no time in helping. Several minutes later, unpacking and transporting the gear was complete. When musicians went to their instruments, Max grabbed Duncan's shoulder and took him to the side.
"All right Duncan. That's it for us in here. Let's not disturb them from now on, they need to concentrate... So, it IS the first concert in your life, isn't it?" Max did (or at least tried) a piercing gaze in Duncan's face, before smiling widely. "Then you're a lucky man today, because I'm some kind of an expert, when it comes to rock concerts. So how about teaching you some simple ABC of 'Not getting kill in the pogo'? You'll never know, when you'll need to defend yourself from the wild crowd next time, aye?"
Heh... Feet Pancakes. Whole Maria...
"She's right Duncan. Why do you think, I put on this combat boots in the first place? You must protect yourself, or else you're a toast. Or pancake for that matter..."
Then, the woman (Max completely forgot she was there), as Maxwell guessed, Duncan's mom offered she'll get him better boots from his home. Now THAT was at least confusing...
"Uh...alright, so that's settled." Duncan said. "So, unload the equipment, right?"
"Dude..." Max couldn't restrain himself from asking. "You're with your mom at the concert?"
One look at Duncan's puzzled face made Max know, that he just stepped on very delicate topic, and he should drop it immediately.
"You know what? On a second thought, what do I care? Let's finish the work with equipment"
Soon enough, Zach was back and gave them signal to hurry up. Max wasted no time in helping. Several minutes later, unpacking and transporting the gear was complete. When musicians went to their instruments, Max grabbed Duncan's shoulder and took him to the side.
"All right Duncan. That's it for us in here. Let's not disturb them from now on, they need to concentrate... So, it IS the first concert in your life, isn't it?" Max did (or at least tried) a piercing gaze in Duncan's face, before smiling widely. "Then you're a lucky man today, because I'm some kind of an expert, when it comes to rock concerts. So how about teaching you some simple ABC of 'Not getting kill in the pogo'? You'll never know, when you'll need to defend yourself from the wild crowd next time, aye?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Yossarian. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Winston spent a little time trying to warm up his voice so to speak, just running through notes, not too loudly, not too harshly. His throat could get quite sore after and during performances, but oh well. Mild music didn't net him the same release that Blank Nation's stuff did, and he'd known that a long time. If the price was being a little hoarse the next day? Well, then so be it.
He had his microphone, along with the stand with him, and he stood in the back of the club nervously tapping his foot against it. He could hear music through the walls from one of the other bands playing that night, and knew that it would soon be the tunr of the Nation.
What, could a singer not get nervous?
Ugh, I wonder if they'll laugh again? The first time we played a gig the crowd thought I was all kinds of hilarious didn't they? ... C'mon, since when have I got stage fright? feeling like this is normal. They might laugh, but they won't be for long once we really start going.
Winston was looking at his watch every five seconds.
Now if only it could be our turn...
He had his microphone, along with the stand with him, and he stood in the back of the club nervously tapping his foot against it. He could hear music through the walls from one of the other bands playing that night, and knew that it would soon be the tunr of the Nation.
What, could a singer not get nervous?
Ugh, I wonder if they'll laugh again? The first time we played a gig the crowd thought I was all kinds of hilarious didn't they? ... C'mon, since when have I got stage fright? feeling like this is normal. They might laugh, but they won't be for long once we really start going.
Winston was looking at his watch every five seconds.
Now if only it could be our turn...
Warren carried a bass amp into the room and placed the hefty object on the floor. Sticking his bass jack inside one of the various plugs, he turned the volume down so the people in the gig couldn't hear and began to recite a few songs. He had about enough time for a few songs, and what songs were better than the Beatles? He began to play Get Backs bass line to himself, and soon perfected, smiling at his achievement. Confidence was something he rarely came across, but when it came to music, he felt it was his destiny.
He gulped again, checking his watch. He noticed Winston doing the same, he wasn't alone at least in his nervousness. He was now waiting, waiting for what felt to him the most important thing in his world. If he messed this up, he would most probably be out of the band forever.
He placed his hand around a glass of water and downed it, although he wasn't singing he would have to fill some various backings occasionally. reaching into his pocket bringing out an crumpled piece of paper and walked slowly towards Zack, who seemed to be talking to someone else.
"Zack, I've got something I'd like to show you." Warren passed him the piece of lined paper.
"It's a song I wrote, it's a little softer than our usual works, but we need to be an unique band. It keeps the whole punk scene ya' know." Warren said, smiling reluctantly towards Zack. He believed his lyrics were, without being egotistical, quite brilliant. He always had a gift for poetry and songwriting.
He sauntered back to his Bass, making himself comfortable by adjusting the straps. He was ready for anything that was going to be thrown at him.
This is it Warren, your time to shine. Don't mess it up alright? You need something to boost your reputation, it's not as if you're going to talk your way into it.
He gulped again, checking his watch. He noticed Winston doing the same, he wasn't alone at least in his nervousness. He was now waiting, waiting for what felt to him the most important thing in his world. If he messed this up, he would most probably be out of the band forever.
He placed his hand around a glass of water and downed it, although he wasn't singing he would have to fill some various backings occasionally. reaching into his pocket bringing out an crumpled piece of paper and walked slowly towards Zack, who seemed to be talking to someone else.
"Zack, I've got something I'd like to show you." Warren passed him the piece of lined paper.
"It's a song I wrote, it's a little softer than our usual works, but we need to be an unique band. It keeps the whole punk scene ya' know." Warren said, smiling reluctantly towards Zack. He believed his lyrics were, without being egotistical, quite brilliant. He always had a gift for poetry and songwriting.
He sauntered back to his Bass, making himself comfortable by adjusting the straps. He was ready for anything that was going to be thrown at him.
This is it Warren, your time to shine. Don't mess it up alright? You need something to boost your reputation, it's not as if you're going to talk your way into it.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Parzel. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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Super Llama†
- Posts: 339
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 7:39 am
Zach stood off to the side as the equipment was unloaded inside, watching the other band perform. They were good, to be sure, but he was certain Blank Nation was better.
"Hmm?" Zach's attention was caught by Warren as he handed over his song idea. There wasn't enough time to really judge it thoroughly, but he skimmed over it and it seemed good enough. He was right too; the band would get stale if they played the same kind of stuff over and over.
"Looks good." He responded, giving the paper back to Warren. "Show it to me again when we're finished and I'll give it a better look-through."
Meanwhile, Duncan quickly jumped to deny the accusation of going to the concert with his mom. "Wha-no! She's just my ride." Max dropped the subject quickly enough, though, and Duncan hoped he was able to convince him. He knew coming here with his mom was a bad idea, but she insisted on it.
It was true; this WAS his first concert, but fortunately Max decided to offer his sage advice on the art of concertgoing before going into some wierd gibberish (the pogo? What the...?)
Throughout all this, Maria sat by herself, getting herself into the right state of mind, and (surprisingly) doing nothing of any real interest.
"Hmm?" Zach's attention was caught by Warren as he handed over his song idea. There wasn't enough time to really judge it thoroughly, but he skimmed over it and it seemed good enough. He was right too; the band would get stale if they played the same kind of stuff over and over.
"Looks good." He responded, giving the paper back to Warren. "Show it to me again when we're finished and I'll give it a better look-through."
Meanwhile, Duncan quickly jumped to deny the accusation of going to the concert with his mom. "Wha-no! She's just my ride." Max dropped the subject quickly enough, though, and Duncan hoped he was able to convince him. He knew coming here with his mom was a bad idea, but she insisted on it.
It was true; this WAS his first concert, but fortunately Max decided to offer his sage advice on the art of concertgoing before going into some wierd gibberish (the pogo? What the...?)
Throughout all this, Maria sat by herself, getting herself into the right state of mind, and (surprisingly) doing nothing of any real interest.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Super Llama.
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Yossarian†
- Posts: 182
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 4:35 am
((Gaah. Somehow I FORGOT it's my turn now. I'm an idiot -_-))
Duncan quietly accepted Max offer. Good for him. God knows, what would happen, if some random person without any knowledge stepped into the center of Punk Rock concert.
"All right Duncan. First things First. Do you know what Pogo is? Of course not, you're a newbie." Max looked at Duncan's face, and quickly corrected his last words. "Of course I didn't mean 'noob, no you're just the new guy, don't get me wrong..."
"... Now, where were we? Ah yes, the Pogo. I won't tell you what it is, I'll leave you with a surprise. But remember this: When I, or anyone else in the crowd wild shout 'POGO!' at the top of his lungs, get ready, because that's means we're gonna start it."
After this few words of introduction, Max went for the most valuable tips:
"Now. The Pogo starts. What should you do... First important rule: JUMP! All the time, anytime you can. The less contact, your feet are getting with the floor, the better. It's the best way to not get your feet trampled. Especially in sneakers. If you're too tired to jump, find place so crowded, that you can't move another inch. Cover your stomach and chest from constant squeeze, and try to rest for a few seconds, and then go back to jumping. If you don't fight a good place, you may be swept by the wave of people, and that's not a good thing. Second rule..."
Max extended his arms toward Duncan. He also looked at his face, and couldn't help but smile, as he saw the only emotion he could see from newcomer coming to this slaughter - fear.
"Use your arms. While jumping protects your legs, your arms are protecting your upper body. Don't ever hesitate to push other people away from you. And don't be afraid to use your elbows. Trust me, no one minds it, as long as you are not straight-punching them, or slicing them with the knife if you brought any"
Max laughed at that moment but stopped and began to talk once again immeditely, to power up the effect for his explanation. For some reason he had a real fun from scaring people, by exaggerating things. Not by much, Pogo is quite dangerous, but still...
"No seriously, don't bring any knife for concert, or use your fists. That's rude. But elbows are fine. They might even save your skin, once or twice. Now, for the next point: If you'll fall down to the ground - Don't worry, people are not blind, and they'll help you stand back on your feet immediately. If for some reason not... Well not good, since there's no help for you then. You can cover your leg and torso with your arms, but I doubt it's going to do any good for you. Just shout, and prey, that someone will notice you. I never actually saw anyone who died this way, but heavy concussions, and broken ribs are pretty possible scenarios."
If Duncan expected a joking laugh at this point, he didn't get it. This part was deathly serious.
"Don't worry though. I'm falling to the ground at least once per week, and I'm still fine without any injury. Accidents are not happening that often. That leaves only Crowd Surfing..."
Suddenly, Maxwell thought about brilliant idea, and smiled sinisterly.
"You know what? This one will be surprise as well. Pleasant surprise, don't worry. Leave everything to me... God, I'm such a genius, why I didn't thought about it earlier..."
When Max finally stopped gloating about his idea, he decided, it was the time to finish the lesson. He grinned toward Duncan, exposing almost every tooth.
"All right. That's the ABC of surviving in Pogo. Don't worry, it's not that scary, as it sounds, I'm sure you'll learn to have fun from it. Do you have any questions?"
((Also, Since Max and Duncan parted their way from the Blank Nation, after Llama's next post, Clu feel free to skip me. Also I'm in kinda hurry, and I don't have time to check grammar. Sorry, if there are any mistakes.))
Duncan quietly accepted Max offer. Good for him. God knows, what would happen, if some random person without any knowledge stepped into the center of Punk Rock concert.
"All right Duncan. First things First. Do you know what Pogo is? Of course not, you're a newbie." Max looked at Duncan's face, and quickly corrected his last words. "Of course I didn't mean 'noob, no you're just the new guy, don't get me wrong..."
"... Now, where were we? Ah yes, the Pogo. I won't tell you what it is, I'll leave you with a surprise. But remember this: When I, or anyone else in the crowd wild shout 'POGO!' at the top of his lungs, get ready, because that's means we're gonna start it."
After this few words of introduction, Max went for the most valuable tips:
"Now. The Pogo starts. What should you do... First important rule: JUMP! All the time, anytime you can. The less contact, your feet are getting with the floor, the better. It's the best way to not get your feet trampled. Especially in sneakers. If you're too tired to jump, find place so crowded, that you can't move another inch. Cover your stomach and chest from constant squeeze, and try to rest for a few seconds, and then go back to jumping. If you don't fight a good place, you may be swept by the wave of people, and that's not a good thing. Second rule..."
Max extended his arms toward Duncan. He also looked at his face, and couldn't help but smile, as he saw the only emotion he could see from newcomer coming to this slaughter - fear.
"Use your arms. While jumping protects your legs, your arms are protecting your upper body. Don't ever hesitate to push other people away from you. And don't be afraid to use your elbows. Trust me, no one minds it, as long as you are not straight-punching them, or slicing them with the knife if you brought any"
Max laughed at that moment but stopped and began to talk once again immeditely, to power up the effect for his explanation. For some reason he had a real fun from scaring people, by exaggerating things. Not by much, Pogo is quite dangerous, but still...
"No seriously, don't bring any knife for concert, or use your fists. That's rude. But elbows are fine. They might even save your skin, once or twice. Now, for the next point: If you'll fall down to the ground - Don't worry, people are not blind, and they'll help you stand back on your feet immediately. If for some reason not... Well not good, since there's no help for you then. You can cover your leg and torso with your arms, but I doubt it's going to do any good for you. Just shout, and prey, that someone will notice you. I never actually saw anyone who died this way, but heavy concussions, and broken ribs are pretty possible scenarios."
If Duncan expected a joking laugh at this point, he didn't get it. This part was deathly serious.
"Don't worry though. I'm falling to the ground at least once per week, and I'm still fine without any injury. Accidents are not happening that often. That leaves only Crowd Surfing..."
Suddenly, Maxwell thought about brilliant idea, and smiled sinisterly.
"You know what? This one will be surprise as well. Pleasant surprise, don't worry. Leave everything to me... God, I'm such a genius, why I didn't thought about it earlier..."
When Max finally stopped gloating about his idea, he decided, it was the time to finish the lesson. He grinned toward Duncan, exposing almost every tooth.
"All right. That's the ABC of surviving in Pogo. Don't worry, it's not that scary, as it sounds, I'm sure you'll learn to have fun from it. Do you have any questions?"
((Also, Since Max and Duncan parted their way from the Blank Nation, after Llama's next post, Clu feel free to skip me. Also I'm in kinda hurry, and I don't have time to check grammar. Sorry, if there are any mistakes.))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Yossarian. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Winston looked over at his bandmates as Warren handed something to Zach, he wondered what it could have been, but a combination of the music still playing and his own nervousness prevented him from having the concentration to listen in.
"Zach!" he called out after a little while. "Do you..." he licked his lips, cleared his throat, tried again. "Do you know when we'll be on?"
The anxiety again struck Winston, but he swallowed it down. No turning back. He just had to go out there and... just ... do his thing.
"Zach!" he called out after a little while. "Do you..." he licked his lips, cleared his throat, tried again. "Do you know when we'll be on?"
The anxiety again struck Winston, but he swallowed it down. No turning back. He just had to go out there and... just ... do his thing.