Had Lestari managed to frown any more thoroughly, her mouth may very well have inverted in on itself and opened up a portal into another dimension-- presumably one of great disappointment. You people utterly mystify me, she declared ostentatiously upon the willing vessel of her notebook. I, for one, find nothing quite so invigorating as to venture out unto the open road-- to follow in the footsteps of such transient legends as Kerouac and London, they who sought their destinies in the interminable journey that lies before all artists-- nay, all humans, indeed!

Alex raised an eyebrow as Lestari briefly waxed literary, before pointing out astutely, "Yeah, but Kerouac and London presumably were not traveling around in a shitty old tour bus with three of their bandmates."

No indeed, Lestari agreed proudly, as though Alex's contention only went all the further to prove her own point. Kerouac hitchhiked across the country with nothing but the clothes on his back and the dreams in his head, and London crossed the Klondike in a wooden cart, got scurvy, and lost his teeth. Alex took this reminder into account, appeared to ponder her position on the whole affair briefly, and then shrugged her broad shoulders. "Well, ya got me there. I'm spoiled by modern technology, what can I say. I for one intend to go up to my room in one of those shiny, newfangled elevator things, open the door with this incredibly advanced key card technology, get in a shower where I can simply turn a knob and expect water to emerge-- at temperature of my own choosing, no less!-- spend a couple hours listening to music through this marvel of modern enterprise we call an mp3 player, maybe jam out a little bit on my distinctly modern electric guitar, and then travel to the venue in question in one of those baffling new horseless carriages."

Oh, very funny, Lestari groused, though the wide-brimming grin plastered across her face implied this was only superficially sarcasm. Back in my day, if we wanted to get to the venue, goddammit, we had to walk. In the snow. Thirty feet of snow. And the hail. And the heat. Uphill both ways. Barefoot. And-- She seemed intent on continuing to enumerate all the ways life had been so much more arduous a struggle back in 'her day' when Lestari caught sight of a few familiar figures not far across the lobby, one of whom was waving over at them. Oh hey, check it out. It's them Psychosis folk.

Alex raised an eyebrow as she turned her head to glance over to where Lestari was looking, and saw indeed the one whose name was... Craig? Something like that-- waving over at them. Meanwhile, their stand-in bassist continued to walk as no-nonsense as ever intently after Martinez, who was marching along far ahead of her troops, and their theatrically-inclined drummer followed after the lot of them looking like he wasn't sure whether to look moderately awake or severely sleep-deprived. Figuring she might as well be polite, Alex returned the wave with a nod so imperceptible she coulda gotten more motion from the weight of a fly landing on her head; Lestari, meanwhile, fired off in Psychosis' direction a massive gesture of salutation so energetic in its enthusiasm that she very nearly bowled herself over from the momentum of it, and Alex had to reach out a hand to steady the drummer as she regained her balance.

"It amazes me that you manage to drum competently despite being clumsier than an inebriated elephant," the guitarist observed dubiously. "One of these days, you're gonna be beatin' down on your drum kit, only to lose your grip on one of the sticks and send it flying into somebody's skull."

Lestari waved that concern aside callously, and then added, I think I'll be alright, so long as you're around to steady me and catch said flying drum sticks before they can do any fatal damage.

Alex snorted. "So long as I'm around.








"Wow. Talk about a shitty crowd. I guess these are the cunts who go to a show early thinking 'Oh man, I've gotta get there in time to catch the opening bands!' What a goddamn joke. They don't even listen to any of the music the opening bands play anyway. They just stand around like a bunch of asinine shitheels yelling to each other over the music about how much they're looking forward to seeing the bands they actually fucking came to see."

It was, of course, time for the daily ritual of 'find something to be irritated about before the show starts'.

Izzie was still adjusting the various EQ settings for... well, for the entire band, really. She would play a few notes on her own guitar, scowl, bellow at the venue's sound manager to hike up the bass on the venue PA, scowl even harder once it became apparent they couldn't hear her, and then settle for pointing at the bassist, then at herself, and jamming a thumb up vigourously. Then she would turn to Craig, tell him to play some shit, decide he needed more treble, and struggle to figure out a way to convey 'MORE TREBLE' to the sound management. Then she'd realise the whole time she coulda been using the microphone to relay her demands, whereupon she would become so infuriated with herself that she'd clean forget all about it. The same would be done with the bassist, and then with Cormac, until she had the entire band sounding just the way she wanted them to. She'd already attuned all their own actual equipment to her specifications anyway; it was just a matter of doing the venue's job for them, too.

"You still got the setlist in mind, blanco?" she growled in passing to the bassist as she briskly walked past her in order to check up on the settings of her (that was, the bassist's) amplifier a second time, just in case she'd gone and fucked around with them whilst Izzie had her back turned.







Back at the Legion merch table, as Psychosis began their set and the venue began to rumble as though struck by an earthquake of slam metal riffs, Lord Fever sat with her hands clasped and fingers intertwined before her.

Helen wasn't here yet, but that was to be expected; Michael was well aware Legion would be playing last, and he certainly didn't want the child to be present when any of the other bands were playing. "You know how those damn metal frontpersons always are," he'd grumbled to Alex after she'd spoken with him earlier that day to make sure everything was going as it was supposed to. "Helen hears any of that between-song banter and she'll come out swearing like Rob Dukes."

Alex had merely rolled her eyes. "Give the kid a little credit, will you, Michael?" she had retorted in exasperation. "She's smart enough to know not to go to school on Monday bellowing 'fucking shit ass' to all her teachers just because she heard the singer of a metal band saying it." Then again, she supposed, as she listened to Izzie Martinez up on stage, fresh off Psychosis' first song of the night, informing everybody present in no uncertain terms of exactly how she felt about their presence for the opening bands, he might just have had a point...

Apparently, just as Alex had come to this conclusion, Michael had decided against it-- that was the only reason she could think of for why she managed, even over the sound of Psychosis going into their next song, to hear a young child's voice hollering "MOM" over and over again at the top of their lungs. Almost a little disbelievingly, Alex turned her head, just in time to see Helen hurtling through the throngs of bemused metalheads towards the Legion merch table; not far behind her, Michael followed in her wake, looking surprisingly neutral about the whole affair, though admittedly just a little bit sour at where he was ending up spending a day of his weekend.

Helen just about rocketed into the merch table, almost sent the damn thing sprawling, before Alex, the disbelief on her face supplanted by an unabashed grin, reached over and lifted Helen onto the other side, and pulled her into a tight embrace. "You're here earlier than I expected."

"Dad said we might as well get it over with sooner than later," Helen reported faithfully, earning a dry chuckle from her mother as they pulled apart. Alex's daughter was one of those cases where the observer could honestly say she looked exactly like both her parents; her vivid green eyes and the pallour of her skin left on questions as to Alex's relationship to her, and normally her solemn disposition was a dead-ringer for Alex as well, but the smooth, shapely form of her face was much more reminiscent of the man who approached the merch table seconds after Helen had. Alex glanced up at him, her smile refusing to abate in the slightest, but her voice did not lack a clear thread of appreciation as she said, "Thanks for bringing her, Michael."

He shrugged his narrow shoulders, and then, biting his lip in consternation, he sighed; he glanced briefly toward anybody else that might be present at the merch table, before leaning in so that only Alex could hear him over the din of music. "I have been unnecessarily spiteful," he murmured, sounding reluctant but sincere. "I obviously can't forgive everything that happened, but... well, you've tried to make amends. That's better than nothing."

Alex smiled. "That means a lot."

"It better; I spent the whole drive over here trying to figure out how to say it," Michael retorted, eliciting another sardonic chuckle from Alex as he straightened up and glanced from her to Helen, who had been much too absorbed in watching Psychosis' performance to really give a shit about bothering to listen to what the adults were saying. "I guess I'll just head over to the bar then," he suggested with another shrug of his shoulders. "Leave you two to, uh... enjoy the show. At least until you're up to play."

Alex merely nodded, and as he left them, she turned her grin to Helen once more. This was exactly what she'd been waiting years for.

Kodie watched silently as Izzie griped about the crowd. She was kind of right, a lot of people didn't show up until later in the show but there always was at least some people who showed up on time. Izzie then attempted to convey to the sound techs that they needed to make alterations. Craig jokingly told their frontwoman that she should growl at the sound techs, saying that they should be able to hear her before he complacently did as she bid him, clearly used to this little routine as was Cormac. The young guitarist was standing there, bright-eyed with his wicked looking B.C Rich. Clearly he wasn't one to get nervous before a show, in fact he was practically bursting with excitement, which Kodie suspected to be the norm for him. Sure, she was eager to see how playing in a live setting with Psychosis would be but she wasn't going to bounce off the walls for it.

Kodie didn't mind Izzie so much, she was just keeping quiet and doing as she was told. Izzie Martinez clearly had her ideas on how everything was going to be and so she wasn't about to question it or fuck with it in, it wasn't her place and what Izzie was doing clearly worked for Psychosis anyway.

"You still got the setlist in mind, blanco?" Kodie supposed she should have expected that sooner or later, as Izzie passed her on her way to go double check the amp as though she was going to fuck with it while she wasn't paying attention or something. Guess I couldn't have hoped she'd just call me 'bassist'. "Yeah, I have it memorized." She stated. She'd stayed up considerably late practicing and checking, then double checking the setlist to make sure she had everything right.



Liam was hanging out by the merch booth with the rest of the band, watching as Psychosis took the stage. He knew what to expect, as he'd seen them before but with their stand-in bassist he wanted to see what effect that may have on their sound. So far they looked to be doing well, the stand-in could definitely handle Psychosis' work well. His attention was quickly pulled away from the show however when all of a sudden he heard the small voice of a child suddenly shout, 'Mom'. He turned in the direction of the sound, surprised. He didn't often see children at gigs, but it wasn't unheard of. What really surprised him however was the fact that the young girl damn near ran into the thing before Alex reached over and pulled them into a hug. He almost didn't notice the man approaching until the girl started to speak.

Well, that just made the night a lot more interesting. He hadn't even known that Alex had a child. He was fairly certain that he would remember her mentioning something like that, it wasn't something people generally forgot. He had almost wondered if this man accompanying the girl was Alex's significant other if it hadn't been for the previous statement as well as their next. He hadn't seemed overly enthusiastic about the whole affair, but he also hadn't said anything terribly negative either though there was definitely some discomfort between the two parents. Alex's kid is here to hear some metal. Why doesn't that surprise me? He thought as he looked at the woman decked out in her heavy metal finery standing next to her daughter.

"So, um. Am I the only one who had no idea that Alex had a kid?" Chris asked, staring at the two blankly as though he didn't know what to do with himself. For someone of his intellect, the astonishment that was etched into his features gave him the appearance of a man who had just discovered fire.

"No, you weren't." Liam assured him, though he was barely heard over Psychosis. He was remarkably less stunned looking than Chris as he looked around for their amiable young drummer who would likely want to meet their newest guest. He wondered where she had gotten off to and if she even know about this. Sure, she knew Alex better than probably anyone in Legion but that didn't necessarily mean that the guitarist would give her all the details of her life. She was still Alex after all.

There's something to be said for a lyricist who manages to write lyrics that could be called both intensely personal and standard gore fare at once-- probably nothing very nice, but something nonetheless.

Granted, most of Psychosis' setlist for this particular tour wasn't of the particularly personal variant. Worm-Infested Cadaver, the go-to opening song for the tour, was a grotesquely meticulous, Carcass-inspired romp through the putrefaction of a corpse as it undergoes the processes of decay and infestation by maggots; Gilles de Rais was, of course, the legendary tale of the eponymous Breton nobleman who, ten years after serving alongside Joan of Arc throughout her campaigns, was convicted of murdering between eighty and two hundred children-- the exact number was never known-- and condemned to hang. Hanging In Agony pertained to a form of torture employed from the sixteenth century up to modern days, wherein the victim's hands were tied behind their back and suspended in the air by ropes attached to wrists; slow and arduous dislocation of the arms was common, and weights were often added to the body to exacerbate the suffering of the victim.

Drowning was, Izzie liked to think, pretty straightforward.

Needless to say, the point was made: Izzie'd had a fondness for gore lyrics ever since her days with Vivum Excoriari, when much of her reading had been concerned with the impressively diverse methods of torture and execution employed throughout antiquity, and therefore to this day a good portion of her lyrics described the agonies of, say, the Judas cradle (this most succinctly described in the aptly named 'Rectally Split'), or the brodequin (whose effects and manner of employment were explored in the pleasantly titled 'Bone-Shattering Nightmare'). And yes, she couldn't deny there was a certain element of taking pride in her ability to approach gore lyrics from a historically enlightened (dare one say intelligent?) perspective rather than the usual 'I HIT YOU IN THE FACE WITH A HAMMER AND YOUR BRAIN TOTALLY EXPLODES' shit.

Not that anybody in the crowd was getting absolutely any of that. As far as they were concerned, the lyrics to all those songs went something like 'UUUUUUURGUHGUHIHGGUIRG AARAARGAHHRGHARGHH'.

Nevertheless, Izzie had little reason to be unhappy as the set drew to a close with that final song; the stand-in bassist had managed not to terribly fuck up any of the (admittedly none too simplistic) bass tracks, nobody's amplifier had spontaneously combusted, and it seemed the crowd had even rather gotten into it. It was so good, in fact, that when it was all over, and the crowd gave one last cheer for the departing opening band, and Psychosis began to pack their shit up to make way for the next band, Izzie turned to face her bandmates, and grunted, "Fuck, I think we might have just made a new fan or two out of some of those shitheads. Goddammit."







For a moment, Alex clean forgot there were other people staffing the merch table along with her-- namely, her bandmates-- as she sat with her daughter and conversed with her over the cacophony of the music. "Who's this playing now?" Helen all but bellowed at the top of her little lungs. "They don't sound very much like the music you show me!"

"This band's called Psychosis," Alex answered with a smile, speaking directly into Helen's ear so she could hear better. "They don't sound much like the metal I've shown you because I'm not the biggest fan of their kind of death metal."

"Their kind of death metal?"

"You know, very complex, very heavy, not so very melodious."

An immediate furrow appeared at Helen's brow. "Death metal can be not heavy?" she queried sceptically, provoking a laugh from her mother. "Spoken like somebody who's never heard any In Flames-- and never will if I have any say in it!" Glancing up from Helen's dubious expression, however, Alex remembered that there were, in fact, two other people currently sitting at the merch table with them-- two people who very clearly had a question or two about the situation that had just unfolded before them. Well, they'd have to suffer in ignorance for a second here; Alex waited until Psychosis finished their next song (turned out to be their last-- oh well, all the more suitable) before explaining. "Hey, guys..." She placed her hands on Helen's shoulders and turned her to face her two present bandmates. "This is my child Helen. Helen, there are my bandmates. The one with the nice hair is Liam, our singer, and the one who looks like a Neanderthal just about to evolve into a modern human is Chris."

"Mom, that doesn't make any sense," Helen pointed out.

"Oh-- er, sorry, sweetie. Sometimes I forget you're eight years old. Uh, see, Neanderthals were..."

"No, no, I know what Neanderthals were," Helen insisted. "They didn't evolve into people, mom. They were around at the same time, but people hunted them to es-thing-shtun."

"Extinction, sweetie. Yeah, see, this is what I get to put up with," Alex remarked with a weary smile to her two bandmates. "A kid who can correct me on my historical inaccuracies. Anyway, she appears to be absent at the moment, but of course, you already know..."

"Lestari!" Helen leapt up to her feet as the band was joined by their grinning drummer, toting along several bottles of water which she wasted no time in distributing out to each of her respective bandmates. It's about time our number one fan came out to see us live! Alex dictated Lestari's note to Helen, who concurred enthusiastically with this assessment. "I can't wait to see you guys play! Mom always tells me that music sounds different when it's played alive."

"Live, Helen, played live."

"Yeah, that."

Well, she's got a point, Alex again dictated Lestari's words as the drummer handed her the notebook that was her primary means of communication. Trust me, you don't know just what Legion is until you've seen Liam go wild on stage. Heck, sometimes if he's feeling real rowdy he'll even do something really crazy, like move his head a bit, or walk around a little. Alex glanced up at Lestari, a hint of amusement on her lips. "Nice one. I didn't even have to set you up for that one."

The guitarist and the drummer fell into their usual dynamic of jokes and charades, and Helen took the time to lean toward Chris and Liam almost conspiratorially and whisper, "So, do you guys also like... death metal?"

The show went surprisingly well. As Kodie had anticipated Craig had spent most of the time he wasn't spending on the complex guitar pieces by running around the stage and just in general having the time of his life up there. Kodie, even though she herself liked to enjoy a good live performance was too focused on her pieces to do exactly what Craig was doing although she did move around to the music as that was simply inevitable for her - when she played she had to move, it was simply the way she'd always been. Izzie vocals were good live and Kodie couldn't help but be intrigued by the lyrics as they weren't quite the typical death metal fare, a little more thought out than some bands.

To her surprise the crowd had actually taken an interest in them and gotten into it a bit, which was good she thought considering they were an opening band and people didn't often show quite the same appreciation for opening bands as they did for headliners as Izzie had pointed out earlier. It was a nice welcome, Kodie thought especially since this was her first show with Psychosis. She had managed not to fuck up as she had played as well as could be expected for someone who had the time she did to learn the band's new material. She'd stayed on top of things and handled it well enough, but she just hoped Izzie felt the same way.


As she walked back with Craig and swung her bass off over her head, the guitarist threw a large arm around her shoulders, grinning. "I knew you could do it." He told her and damn near lifted her off the ground in his embrace (and by embrace, I mean him more or less just crushing her against his side). She was fairly certain he cracked a rib or two of her's when he finally released her and turned to face Cormac and Izzie, who surprisingly seemed content with how the show had gone.

"It was fantastic." Craig said, ever enthusiastic.








Chris stared blankly at the scene before him, uncomprehending. Alex had a child? Alex, who was equally or more emotionally stifled than a Vulcan. She looked happy though as she turned her daughter around to face them, answering a question that was undoubtedly plastered across his face. Huh. Well, he supposed stranger things had happened. He attempted to compose himself then and offered a small wave to the newest (or well, most likely youngest) Legion fan, ignoring Alex's little snip about him looking like a neanderthal.

He did laugh though when Helen corrected Alex on that, as did Liam. She certainly was the guitarist's daughter, and not just because he was starting to see the similarities in their appearance. The only indication she was around the age he guessed she was, was that slight pronunciation error, still impressive for a child. "Hey, I might like this kid if she can even correct you, Alex." He told her. Even though he was probably one of the few people who actually knew what she was talking about when she told them she was a Yukaghir, there was still things she would make fun of him for or correct him on.

Chris wasn't all that surprised when Lestari suddenly appeared. Apparently she already knew about Helen. So he was the last to know. Go figure, he thought as the drummer thrust a bottle of water into his hands which he accepted graciously. Huh, a kid who likes metal. Yep, definitely Alex's daughter.

He stifled a laugh when Lestari commented on Liam's lack of movement on stage.

"Hey! I do more than that..." Liam said, defensively although he smiled as he said it which made him doubt he was all that serious.

"Well, you have to admit you don't do a lot." Chris told him, shaking his head. Lestari did have a bit of a point, in contrast to bands he'd played with before Liam was tame, he'd never seen the guy run across the stage or do much more than walk from place to place on the stage and bang his head.

"That is true." Liam shrugged his shoulder. Chris liked the guy, he was nice enough although he wasn't prude-ish and he was fairly relaxed in most situations although he was frequently seemingly deep in thought or doing something with that notebook of his. He was rather introverted, although Chris supposed he wasn't one to talk considering he didn't exactly get out a lot either.

As Alex and Lestari went back and forth with their jokes and such, little Helen leaned over and spoke to them directly, lowering her voice to a whisper. "So, do you guys also like... death metal?" Chris couldn't help but smile at that.

"I do." Chris admitted as did Liam, silently wondering what the child's response to that would be. He did like death metal, it was probably his favorite metal genre. He actually quite liked Psychosis, as a matter of fact. He had missed a good portion of their show tonight, but he knew there would be other chances. "Does your mom let you listen to death metal?" He asked her. He thought that Alex might be a fairly relaxed parent, now that the shock was dissipating but he thought some bands could be a little too gruesome for a child.

Now, Cormac had to admit he came outta pretty much every Psychosis show bushed to hell and back-- unlike that psycho (no pun intended-- okay, maybe a little pun intended) who staffed the drum kit in Legion's name, he wasn't an automaton capable of blasting away for hours on end at full force, and though his limited experience with Legion's music, gleaned primarily from the show a couple days back, had led him to conclude her drumming was much more energetic than his own, Psychosis' music certainly called for much more complex arrangements. Taking this into account, along with the fact that Izzie had apparently missed that day in school where they taught you that there were other tempos besides 'knuckle-draggingly slamming slow' and 'BALLS TO THE WALL GRIND THEIR FACES OFF WITH A TRILLION BEATS PER SECOND', he supposed he could be forgiven for being just a little fatigued as he extricated himself from the confines of his drum kit and accompanied his bandmates on off the stage.

Cormac had been about to congratulate Kodie on her excellent performance on her first show with the band, but Craig had beaten him to the punch-- and how. The drummer winced just a little bit as he watched Craig perform what was either a Mortal Kombat fatality or a really tight hug on their poor stand-in bassist, and he couldn't help but think, Yeah, I reckon Craig's content with how the show went.

Apparently, a little more content than a certain Izzie Martinez was willing to tolerate. "Fuckin' A, calm the fuck down, will ya?" she growled as she led the way down to the backstage section of the venue that eventually trailed back out into the crowd. Admittedly, Cormac was certain-- like probably anybody else would have been, he asserted-- that she was being serious, right up until she turned her head back to face them and revealed a hint of a wry smirk. "Your enthusiasm's crampin' on my 'grim, soulless metalhead' gig." She tossed back and forth a few words with some of the venue staff in the backstage area, before turning back to her bandmates and nodding her head at a couple cardboard boxes sitting on one of the handful of plastic tables set up around the room. "Anyway, chill out and cool down here for a bit and all that shit, I'm gonna go carry the merch over to our little merch table."

"We have mer-- hang on, we have merch?" Cormac all but yelped. "I mean, besides the CDs?"

"Well, yeah."

"When the hell did this happen?" Cormac turned to Craig, looking deeply betrayed. "Did you know we had merch? If you tell me you knew about this before I did I'm gonna fuckin' wilt. I coulda been reppin' Psychosis this whole time!"

"Naw, I don't think I told him either," Izzie answered lackadaisically, evidently rather amused by the massive shit the drummer was flipping in light of this revelation. "You shouldn't be so taken aback when you know I handle pretty much all the business and external circumstances for the band already. Anyway, I only just had them done, especially for this tour. It's just a handful of t-shirts and hoodies with the cover art from the Brutalised and Skinned Alive EP on the front along with the band logo and the name of the EP on the back. I felt it would be downright discourteous of us to sell merchandise that doesn't make your average person want to hurl profusely, so I figured it was appropriate."

"Well, goddamn, let me at one, eh?" Cormac asserted, recovering from his spell of vexation and approaching the cardboard boxes with an avaricious grin.

"Sure thing, champ. They're ten bucks a pop."

"Ten bucks?!"

"Or twenty five, if it's the hoodies you're after."

"But I'm in the band!" Cormy glanced back helplessly toward Kodie and Craig, evidently in hopes that one of them would stand up for the hapless, poor, oppressed little drummer in the face of this grievous injustice, but Izzie merely shrugged her broad shoulders. "Us death metal musicians gotta make a profit, y'know," she drawled unsympathetically, before placing the cardboard boxes one on top of the other, heaving them up into her immense arms, and bidding her bandmates farewell by wordlessly leaving the backstage area.

"... she was joking, right?" Cormac said as he looked around at Craig and Kodie, his expression suggesting his whole world was crumbling for lack of Psychosis merchandise. "We totally get free shirts, right? We're in the band, for fuck sake, we've gotta have a right to free shirts."






Chris seemed almost incapable of reconciling himself with the idea of Alex as a parent, which Lestari... well, she couldn't really fault him for that, she supposed. Frankly, she'd figured Alex was probably asexual right up until she'd basically stumbled upon the existence of her daughter (who clearly wasn't adopted-- You can't look at those eyes and that skin and tell me that ain't Lord Fever's flesh 'n blood right there)-- but Alex was a good parent, Lestari gathered, from what little exposure to their relationship she'd had. Alex took an active interest in her kid's life, cultivated her artistic and cultural interests, and... well, she was there for her, which was a lot more than could be said for plenty of parents. It seemed sometimes almost as though Alex was somehow... as though she was trying to make up for something by being the best parent possible.

Her conversation with Alex, however, had departed the subject of Liam's stage persona-- or lack thereof, more accurately-- and had since expanded to the wider topic of maintaining a stage presence in general. One might have supposed Lestari had it easy, being able to simply sit there behind her drums and beat the fuck outta them, but she did like to throw in some good headbanging theatrics as well-- she wasn't much one for the whole 'tossing drumsticks into the crowd' gig, though, not since she'd gotten beaned upside the head with one at the end of a Repugnant show and decided to spare attendees at her own shows the same.... well, minor irritation. Anyway, they were currently discussing the sorry state of Tom Araya's once mighty stage presence; Alex dryly requested that if the day ever came that she could not longer headbang for fear of back pain, Lestari should be the one to put her out of her misery, and the drummer grimly consented to go about that fatalistic business when its time inevitably came.

Helen, in the meantime, was doing what every kid does when left to interact with the adults-- namely, she was striving to impress said adults by acting as mature as she possibly could.

It wasn't a difficult task for a kid as generally mature and soft-spoken as Helen, though admittedly the excitement at having met the band of her mother, the person she idolised as much as a musician as a person, might have been poking holes in that facade. Nevertheless, she couldn't help a proud smile at the query from the one called Chris. "She shows me stuff all the time, and I like most of it. Like..." It took very little thought to summon up the names of some of the groups her mother had introduced her to. "Death. Slayer. Gorguts. I like Cannibal Corpse, but she never lets me see what the names of the songs are. Morbid Angel... Oh!" Her eyes lit up excitedly and she rocked forward in the chair her mother had provided for her, only narrowly saving herself from tipping over in her enthusiasm. "Infester! Infester's my favourite. I always tell my mom that when I get bigger I want to play music like Infester."

She cast a quick glance back at Alex, still in animated conversation with Lestari (well, animated for Alex, which was roughly as lively as a stone statue). Her mother noticed, and with a smile reached over a hand to briefly rake her fingers through the short, choppy bristles of her daughter's black hair. Helen welcomed the motion with a smile; such displays of pride and affection were always dear to her. Of course, she had never thought of it in such abstract terms, but... well, she desperately wished to become somebody her mother could be proud of.

How could she not, when her mother seemed the only person in her life who really understood her?

Evidently Izzie couldn't handle the amount of enthusiasm and excitement that Craig had. He didn't take it badly, instead he looked more amused than anything.

"Right, Izzie. We'll keep on being dark, soulless metalheads. Can't have us cramping your style." Craig sighed dramatically and crossed his arms as they made their way backstage, attempting to look more grim and hateful that a standard Burzum fan before lapsing back into a grinning idiot, or so Kodie thought. He could never be dark. Craig was damn near cheerful as could be on most days. That was just how he was though, despite being a big, tattooed metalhead he was probably the most upbeat and friendly of all her friends.

Izzie gave them permission to chill at the venue for a bit while she went out and took merch to their table, which both Cormac and Craig looked completely baffled at the mention of.

Cormac for his part was completely taken aback, inquiring as to if Craig had known to which the ox of a guitarist shook his head rapidly. "Nah, dude. I totally didn't know." He replied, looking over at Izzie for some sort of an explanation. Guess she didn't share a whole lot with people when it came to that. Honestly though, Cormy probably would make a fairly decent Psychosis rep - all that imagination and drama could make him one hell of a salesman. Maybe she should let him do some advertising.

Craig looked as interested as Cormy did in the merch, although he hadn't started to approach the boxes yet when Izzie informed them they were ten dollars - twenty five for a hoodie. Craig blinked in surprise. Guess Izzie wasn't keen on cutting her bandmates a deal.

"Cormy has a point, don't we get something? We just played a gig." Craig pointed out, although it didn't sound as though he had much hope at all as Izzie packed up her boxes and began to head out, saying that they had to make a profit somehow.

"Not when it's Izzie's band." Kodie said to Cormac, smirking slightly at his expression. Come to think of it, she wouldn't mind a Psychosis shirt herself...maybe she'd track them down and just pay the ten bucks. "So, are we going to do anything tonight?" She asked, hoping Cormac wasn't going to start rambling on about the grave injustice he'd been dealt.






Chris and Liam listened as Helen spoke. It didn't seem to hard for her to try to act grown up, although if she was anything like Alex it probably wasn't, truth be told. They listened as the little girl rattled off the names of the bands she liked while Alex and Lestari discussed stage presence.

Chris had to admit, he was rather impressed with the girl's listening material although he supposed he shouldn't be too surprised considering Alex was her parent - of course the Lord Fever was going to supply her child with quality music. Momentarily he was concerned she was going to tip right off the chair though but thankfully she righted the balance quickly, a brief lapse in her seriousness. "Yeah, those are all good. You're lucky, I didn't get into metal until I was older." Chris said, surprised he was the most talkative of the group tonight. He hadn't been as lucky as Liam who had been introduced to classic heavy metal and rock 'n roll at a young age. It had taken him longer to get into it as well as having his parents worry that he was going to start worshiping the dark lord, Satan. Okay, maybe that was a stretch but they hadn't liked it. "And you want to play like Infester?" Chris looked impressed as he looked to Liam who appeared equally impressed as he did before turning to Alex who was now standing behind Helen, brushing her hair back. "Alex, you officially have the coolest kid ever." He told her. Infester's some pretty crazy shit though, for a kid. I'd probably piss my pants if I listened to To The Depths In Degradation in the dark, there's some unsettling vocal tracks...

"If you want to play like Infester, I take it that means you're learning to play an instrument?" Liam, the more quiet of the two conversationalists asked Helen. Knowing the guitarist, she would probably be teaching her daughter herself. That was, if Helen chose to play guitar though.

Psychosis' dedicated little merch table stood parallel alongside all the rest, arranged out against the side wall of the venue, with a shitty little placard type thing taped down to the front of it, labeled 'Psychosis'. Seemed kinda asinine, seein' as all the tables-- at least, the ones being staffed at that point, which was pretty much all of them now that Izzie, who had little patience for bothering to find somebody to hold the Psychosis merch fort in her absence, had arrived-- were adorned in shirts and CDs proudly emblazoned with the names of each band. Then again, she mused absently as she cracked open each box and scattered about a few shirts, hoodies, and CDs across the table for display purposes. I've been deciphering death metal band logos since before death metal was even a genre. I guess some people might not have had quite as much practice.

At the table to her left, the vocalist from Aborticide was fighting a veritable war against the swarm of avaricious metalheads who were swamping her in their eagerness to walk away from the show with something to show for what Izzie presumed was their favourite band on the billing. Male and female metalheads, united in their obnoxious quest to beat their competitors to the prize merchandise before it all got sold off. The singer took their money one by one, exchanged a little casual, breezy small talk, passed along whatever CD or shirt or whatever her customer at the time had shelled out cash for, and then, once the masses abated and gave her a little breathing space, she counted off the quantity of the band's merchandise revenue thus far with the grin of somebody who's just raked in the big bucks. Straightforward. Easy. Nothing strange or disconcerting about it.

It was the same when she headed off to join her bandmates up on stage for sound check and people began milling over to Psychosis' merch table. Izzie loomed over the merchandise amassed there like a specter of death (metal), the judge, jury, and executioner at the gates of hell itself, peering down at each prospective soul that found within itself the audacity to stand before her, but whatever humble, fleeting semblances of conversation she exchanged with those who approached out of curiosity or in hopes of snagging some merch were nothing of particular note.

"Hey, I hadn't heard you guys before tonight, but you were fuckin' sick! Nice vocals, too!"

"Thanks."

"This all the materiel you guys have got out?"

"Yep. That one's our first EP, and this stack here is our debut album. Just put it out a couple months ago."

"Sweet. Can I get a copy of each?"

"Hm. I think that can be arranged, sure. On just one condition."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. You give me sixteen bucks."

"Sounds like an agreeable exchange. Lemme just grab my cash..."

"Lovely. Pleasure doin' business with ya."

"Hope so, 'cause this won't be the last business you guys'll be getting outta me!"

All so very... well, ordinary. Really, that was what struck her about it all sometimes, the mundanity of it-- because it hadn't been this way back when she'd first begun playing music 'professionally'. Not for her, and not for many other female musicians back in the nascent years of death metal. Back then, when she'd made her very first forays into playing metal as a way of life with Vivum Excoriari in '89, she would never have been so... so bold as to present herself openly to the crowd off the stage. It hadn't been fear; it had merely been a lack of will, a lack of desire to put up with the shit she'd known she would inevitably have ended up putting up with. It had been easier, despite being the vocalist, the very voice of the band, to just huddle herself away in the fucking backstage and let the other members handle public relations so she wouldn't have to deal with yet another asswipe complimenting her by telling her that her vocals weren't too bad, for a girl, or asking her if her boyfriend had gotten her 'into metal' even though she'd been listening to-- even though she'd been living this shit since fucking Welcome To Hell had been the pinnacle of extremity, or completely seriously asking how many of the other members she'd had to fuck to get where she was now. It was enough to dread people drunk off their asses climbing up onto the stage because she wasn't sure which of them was gonna try and cop a feel at her because their booze-addled brains were prompting them to reveal the simple reality that they thought she was there for their sexual amusement; she didn't need to deal with it off stage as well.

But none of those efforts had proven successful in the end. It had taken a lot of pain, and a lot of misery, and a lot of mistakes, the final demise of the band she had founded and help build from the ground up, and the quiet, forlorn question of whether it would be preferable to just quit the whole business before Izzie Martinez had decided not to take any more of this shit-- to refuse to let it take this one joy in her life away from her.

And here she was, twenty years later, openly staffing the merchandise table, conducting all the business transactions, maintaining brief conversations in which the words 'for a woman' or 'boyfriend' never appeared (except for one dude who stopped by the merch table for no reason other than to irascibly inform her that his boyfriend had refused to shut the fuck up about her band the past few days and that he hoped she was happy for having put him through that hell). She'd just watched the woman about to get on stage to bellow her lungs out get all but submerged in an ocean of metalheads whose wandering hands were seeking out not a swift, jarring delve into humiliation and degradation but a shirt, or a new CD to take home. It wasn't all perfect-- it wasn't even necessarily very good-- but things were at least changing, and that was more than Izzie had thought could ever be said back when she'd been wondering whether or not it was worth it to bother trying.

Her little venture down the cracked and greying streets of memory lane didn't last long, of course-- it came to a swift demise as the return of her bandmates yanked her back to present day. She tuned back into reality just in time to hear Cormy, who had apparently seen fit to let the whole 'merch' thing go-- at least just for now-- loudly prattling on about what was to be done after the show.

"I dunno about you lot," he declared with his little chest puffed out proudly as he led his two bandmates through the throngs of metalheads toward the merch table. "But I for one am not one of those assholes who leaves the show without seein' all the bands play. And as the most senior musician present-- at least until we reunite with the old warhorse herself-- I absolutely shall not permit you younger folk to engage in such despicable behavi--" He was unceremoniously cut off as a couple of particularly immense fans, apparently clean failing to see the drummer in front of them, shoved past him; the drummer gave a yelp of remonstration, glared at them as they walked off completely unaffected, and indignantly straightened out his battle jacket. By that time, of course, he could not continue, because they'd reached the merchandise table, and Izzie was commenting dryly, "If I'm the 'old warhorse', you must be the band's very own donkey."

"Donkeys perform invaluable services in third world countries," Cormac pointed out stiffly.

Izzie hesitated little in her repartee. "Cormy, for all your little acts, I'm hard-pressed to believe you've ever been within a couple thousand lightyears of a third world country in your life. And no," she added, as Cormac opened his mouth to retort. "That one part of Boston with a couple homeless people doesn't count."

"Hmph." Cormac crossed his arms across his chest in an expression of defiant defeat, before deciding it was perhaps best not to dwell on this subject any longer than was necessary. "We're thinking of going out for a drink after the show. Y'know, take advantage of this last two day stop over we got for ourselves. You plan on comin'?"

"Ah yes." Izzie's voice was so laden in sarcasm it was a wonder the weight of it didn't sink to the floor. "Because when I'm tryin' to have a drink, I enjoy nothing more than to be surrounded by asinine noise, watching drunk asshats being drunk asshats and paying way more for each drink than it's actually worth."

"Guess that's a no, then."

"That's a fuck no. I for one intend to take advantage of the layover by actually getting some sleep."

Cormac gave a snort. "Really are gettin' up there in the years, aren't ya? Soon you'll be playin' shows sittin' down."

"Watch it, 'lil whippersnapper," the Colombian guitarist growled dangerously. "I may have twenty years more than you bearin' down on my shoulders, but I'm also twice your height and could bench press four of you with my little finger, so you best keep your wits about you."

Having been put firmly in his place, Cormac took on an expression of great sorrow, before a twinge of hope alit upon his features. "Well, what about the--"

"Ten bucks a piece."

And so, his hopes and dreams thusly crushed, Cormy resigned himself to grumbling away beneath the din of the venue, which soared to a rising cheer as the lights dimmed for Aborticide. And so the night went on.






So too did it go on all the way down the lines of merch tables at Legion's particular slice of territory, where the four musicians that comprised its line up stood centered around a little eight year old child. Helen normally wasn't much one for attracting attention to herself-- just another trait she'd inherited from her mother, one supposed, at least when it came to off-stage antics-- but she couldn't deny she was delighting in being the center of attention here. Certainly she was reveling in the compliments of Alex's bandmates, particularly when Chris looked at her mother and announced that she was the coolest kid ever. Helen was disinclined to necessarily take that to heart, of course-- not so much a matter of modesty as merely a recognition of hyperbole-- but then, it wasn't like she'd ever met anybody else her age who enjoyed a good Possessed song every now and then. If anything, her love for the music her mother showed her, on those precious weekends they had together, had earned her the alienation and derision of her classmates, which... well, she couldn't lie, it wasn't fun, and kinda stung. But if she was gonna have to choose between playing an act in order to gain her classmates' acceptance, and unabashed appreciation for this crazy noise she voraciously ate up and was always looking for more of, then she'd prefer to spend the break times off alone in the fields fondly recalling the tune of an Incantation song she was particularly fond of, and looking forward to the coming weekend so that she could really listen to it again.

Whoever had said that kids needed to maintain a vibrant social life in their youth to function properly clearly had forgotten to add 'or a couple good Immolation records, one or the other, really'.

"The coolest kid ever? Don't I know it," Alex remarked with a hint of a smile as her hand went from Helen's hair to her little shoulder. "When I was her age, the heaviest thing I'd ever heard was olonkho-- meanwhile, she can hum you every song off Horrified note for note. You got any clue how humbling it is when your own kid is more metal than you ever will be?"

"Mom, don't exaggerate," Helen urged, a smirk pulling at the corners of her own lips as she looked up at Alex before glancing back to the other three. "There are a couple notes from the solo off Maggots In Your Coffin I still can't nail."

Liam, who had up until that point kept quiet for the most part, spoke up at that point, and Helen nodded affirmatively. "When I'm at my mom's for the weekend, she shows me how to play some stuff on her guitar. Which is a little difficult, as it's about twice my size--"

"You'll have one you can actually play on soon enough."

"-- but also, I wanna learn how to sing," Helen finished, before a rather vexed expression briefly creased her brow. "Er, not sing. I wanna learn how to... how to do that thing the person from Infester does. You know, the..." She made a raw, strangled noise with her throat, prompting Lestari to nearly collapse into the table amidst uncontrollable fits of silent laughter; meanwhile, Alex couldn't help a brief chink in her composure as she cracked a smile and restrained a laugh. Helen looked at the two of them curiously, and Lestari was quick to assure her with a note she handed to Alex to read off. That was very... uh, unique! You're well on your way! Well, you're well on your way somewhere, anyway.

Helen just about glowed.






Not long after, as Aborticide took to the stage, Alex offered to take Helen out into the crowd so she could experience the show 'for real', and the two of them traipsed off. She never let the kid step foot in the mosh pit, of course; there was some crazy ass little dude in a battle jacket in there doing some sort of bizarre-ass dance that was either an ancient chicken spirit mating ritual or a badly failed attempt at inebriated moshing, and everybody was kinda givin' him his space, so Alex didn't pay much attention to him. She hoisted her daughter up onto her broad shoulders-- her jacket having been cast aside back at the merch table so Helen was in no danger of being impaled on one of the spikes-- and stood a couple of people down from the mosh pit, close enough to the stage to get a good perspective on the performance without being in danger of being suddenly enveloped by the expanding mosh pit as was wont to happen every now and then.

Intermittently, between each band's set, they returned to Legion's merch table so that Alex could help out with the business side of things and Helen could gush about the bands. So far, it appeared Aborticide was her favourite; "They're like Repulsion meets Demolition Hammer!" she enthused jubilantly. "And that singer! She sounds like Steve Reynolds except even angrier!" It just about got to the point that Lestari had to point out in amusement, Those motherf-- Reminding herself of the nature of her present company, she'd quickly erased the embryonic blasphemy before amending, Those usurpers of our throne have set the bar so high you're not even gonna care when Legion goes up to play! Of course, Helen still had to ask what a usurper was, but the meaning got across eventually anyway, whereupon the kid took to profusely assuring everybody around her that Legion was still totally the best band on the bill and anybody who disagreed was clearly not a true metalhead.

"Oh dear," Alex had lamented dryly. "I've created an eight year old metal elitist."

But of course, the time eventually came for Legion to ascend to the stage and finish the night off right. Alex delved off quickly into the venue's little bar cranny, and found Michael there nursing a beer-- probably still on his first, he'd always had the constitution of a naked mole rat and he didn't look too inebriated just yet. "Enjoying the show, I hope," she deadpanned as she approached, and he turned to face her with an eyebrow raised. "It's funny, you know," he remarked. "Here now at a show for the first time in years, hearing this stuff again..."

"You're reminded of why you loved it in the first place?"

"I'm reminded of why I don't anymore," he corrected with a chuckle. "Who was that band that said 'if you used to be metal, you never were'? I think they'd like to have a few words with me."

"Were loinclothes involved? It coulda been Manowar."

At that Michael admitted an open laugh-- maybe he was a little drunker than she'd thought-- and shrugged his narrow shoulders. "Could be." His expression grew a little more serious, though, as he added, "So I take it the time's come for you to hit the stage?"

"Yep. You gonna come watch Helen while we're playing?"

"Of course." He clambered up off the bar stool, toting along his plastic cup half-filled with beer, and almost made a show of steeling himself for what lay ahead. "Let's get this over with, I guess."

"Oh come now, Michael," Alex tossed back dryly as she turned to lead the way. "Don't be so cynical. Who knows, you might even like it."

He kept oddly silent at that one.

"I'll probably hang around 'til the end of the show. There's gonna be some good ones going up." Craig replied to Cormy who was leading them through the crowd toward the merch table, rambling on about being the oldest member present. He had much less trouble making his way through the crowd than the drummer did, people catching sight of his boulder-like shoulders and kindly moving out of his way as Kodie followed along behind him. Old Warhorse. I'd like to see what Izzie has to say to tha -

"If I'm the 'old warhorse', you must be the band's very own donkey." Izzie replied, dryly. Well, he wasn't going to have to guess anymore. "Is that your way of politely calling Cormy a jackass?" Craig asked, smirking and taking to leaning against the side of the merch stand to avoid being in people's way.

After Cormac and Izzie got done discussing third world countries and the worth of donkeys in such places, their drummer finally inquired as to if their singer would be joining them tonight for a couple of drinks. Craig already knew the answer to that one, it seemed Izzie always preferred to drink alone and so he truly wasn't very surprised when Izzie gave a 'fuck no' and firmly put Cormac back in his place. Evidently Cormy was feeling persistent tonight because he tried again for the shirts only to receive the exact same answer he had been given before. "Guess he doesn't want to quit tonight." Craig said, shaking his head and watching as Cormy disappeared into the crowd, probably going to end up in the mosh pit.

Kodie lifted her shoulders in a shrug then, pulled out a wallet from her pocket and pressed a ten dollar bill onto the table. "Well, I guess if he won't then I'll take one of the shirts." She said at last to Izzie, casting a glance over at the Legion booth where it seemed like everyone was gathered around. Gathered around what, she wasn't sure for a moment since the short, bear like one was blocking her view but when he moved she caught sight of a little girl talking animatedly about music. Huh. Wasn't every day she saw a kid brought to a metal show.




"I can only imagine." Chris said to Alex, shaking his head in astonishment as the girl stated that there was still some pieces that she couldn't nail. Damn, if only he'd been that metal as a kid.

"That must be nice to get to learn from your mom. I started learning as well when I was about your age." Liam replied, nodding. He had probably the childhood Chris envied the most - he had grown up on the classic rock and heavy metal albums his father purchased and started learning guitar as a kid whereas Chris had to get into it later in life after ditching the cello, the memories of trying to play it still haunted him to this day.

Chris wasn't surprised that Helen was going to be in need of a guitar of her own, there was no way she'd be able to handle one of Alex's guitars easily. What he wasn't expecting though was her demonstration of Infester styled vocals which quickly brought a fit of laughter upon him which he struggled to cover with a cough. Liam fought back a smile and kept himself carefully composed as did Alex. It was strange to see the change in her when she was around her daughter, but a good one. Chris liked seeing her happy.

"I agree with Lestari." The long haired vocalist said, simply. Chris had no idea how the bastard could keep himself composed like that. He was still trying not to laugh again. "Just make sure you practice a lot and right, you don't want to be doing that wrong and accidentally hurt your voice." He cautioned, like he was a wise old Jedi Master.



Alex later swept Helen off to go watch Aborticide. Chris and Liam contented themselves to watch from the merch table where they didn't have people milling all about them.

"So," Liam said, keeping his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music. "You couldn't have told me Alex had a kid?" He asked Lestari, raising a brow at the drummer. She was the only one who hadn't appeared surprised at all by the little girl's sudden appearance. He had been worried he might've given her some bad advice earlier but she didn't seem overly concerned about it so perhaps everything was okay?


When Alex and Helen returned from the crowd and began discussing the bands - it seemed Aborticide was Helen's current favorite, however it appeared Lestari was concerned that the girl may not be so excited to see Legion play then. The little girl rejected the notion with passion reminiscent of metal elitists - well, minus the profanity.



Eventually it came time for Legion to get ready to hit the stage and so naturally everyone started to make their way backstage - the exception being Alex who was sending Helen off to her father. They passed the Psychosis merch stand as they went, earning a 'Good luck man' from the large guitarist as well as the stand-in bassist.

It didn't take them long to get all the gear together and prepared as they started to develop a routine - the first show always seemed a little strange when you weren't quite so used to doing all these things almost every night but now Liam found himself beginning to settle into the familiarity of getting ready for a show all over again.

"Guess he doesn't want to quit tonight," Craig mused, watching Cormac stalk off into the crowd, presumably so he could get alcohol, drink his brain into a pleasant state of pre-bar inebriation, and mosh the fuck out to the impending thrash metal onslaught. Izzie merely shrugged her broad shoulders, having already lost interest in the stubborn little drummer and his qualms. "He's already done his duty as far as I'm concerned. So long as he doesn't do anything truly idiotic, like start a fight in the mosh pit, or have a go at someone twice his size because of his asinine need to prove his manliness or whatever the fuck, he can do whatever the hell he likes." Okay, granted, some part of Izzie-- the part that was shoved way off someplace where the sun (or more appropriately, the glimmering lights of the stage) didn't shine-- sympathised with the drummer; even he probably didn't realise just how much unnecessary trouble, injury, and labour he put himself through in pursuit of nothing more than what he'd been told he as a male was supposed to be. But hey, she'd said it before and she'd say it now: she wasn't the fucker's goddamn therapist or anything. She wasn't here to help him get through his masculinity issues-- she was here to play music, and so was he, and his personal issues didn't have a thing to do with her unless they impeded that mutual goal.

The vocalist leaned back in her chair, the little plastic fold-out affair groaning strenuously beneath her sheer bulk and weight, and reached a long burly arm out to grab the bottle of water nestled amidst the merch and take a quick gulp. She'd been just about to count out how much money the band had made thus far in merch sales when she saw a hand slap down more of it onto the table-- the bassist's hand, more accurately.

Izzie blinked, and then glanced up at the bassist with a raised eyebrow. "Well, I guess if he won't," the bassist explained dryly. "I'll take one of the shirts."

"Alrighty," Izzie growled, glancing over the bassist briefly before reaching over and snagging one of the smalls. She took the bassist's money and shoved it into the little cardboard box she was using as a makeshift cash register, but before she gave the bassist her latest fashion acquisition, she heaved herself out of the chair, and walked around the table, tossing the shirt to the bassist as she passed. "One'a you or both'a you staff the merch table, eh?" she grunted as she passed by. "I gotta be in the crowd for Aborticide."

Everybody loved Aborticide, after all.






Lestari watched Alex and Helen submerge themselves into the thick miasma of the crowd with a smile upon her lips. That kid really did bring out Alex's emotions best, didn't she? Of course, compared to most parents Lestari had seen-- not that she made a habit of going around and cataloguing the behaviours and various dispositions of parents-- Alex was still downright emotionally muted, but considering just how inexpressive and subdued she was otherwise, it was a notable change, and one Lestari didn't mind seein'. Perhaps it was a little selfish, but she did like to see Alex smiling and laughing, as such preciously rare moments were on par with snatching a glimpse of the Jersey Devil, or the Abominable Snowman. Hopefully the time would soon come that Lestari herself could evoke such strong emotions in Alex, but until then... Well, if all went well, it wouldn't be long.

Ah, but the crowd beckons! Lestari began to make for the audience herself-- she'd leave Alex and Helen to their time together, of course, but such music as Aborticide's certainly could not be appreciated from the side lines! And so, the drummer had already taken a step, when she heard Liam calling over the initial blast of Aborticide's set.

"You couldn't have told me Alex had a kid?"

Lestari turned to face him, finding the vocalist returning her gaze with something like a dubious expression. She couldn't tell from his voice or from his expression if he was unhappy at having been left out of the loop, but there was something just a little accusing about his choice of words, so she saw fit to defend herself appropriately. I only found out by accident myself, she pointed out. Alex didn't intend for me to know, nor do I suspect she intended for any of us to know, so I figured it woulda been rude of me to tell anybody else about her kid without her own approval. She does value her privacy, after all. Wouldn't you have kept it on the down-low as well? She didn't tarry about for an answer, not that she could conceive of why Liam would actually be angry with her-- it was a pretty good reason, wasn't it? But then, if he really was angry at her, that was all kinds of too damn bad for him, 'cause between accidentally pissing off Liam Mathias and accidentally pissing off Lord Fever, Lestari wasn't too conflicted. As much as she liked Alex, she still couldn't be sure she wouldn't plunge her hand into her chest and rip out her still beating heart or something appropriately death metal. Liam, unfortunately, didn't have that kinda vibe about him.

And so the evening continued: Aborticide came and went, and so did the bands that followed them. This was admittedly a bit more 'brutal' a tour than a band like Legion was normally liable to show up for-- I mean, for fuck sake, that one opener, Psychosis or whatever, they're just a handful of lost brain cells away from being a straight up slam death metal band. If they cut out those 'trillion notes a second' parts, they might as well be Devourment already. Point being, the next couple bands were brutal death metal bands-- y'know, Suffocation clones, bands that worshiped at the feet of Cryptopsy, folks who were clearly aiming to be the next Tomb of the Mutilated-era Cannibal Corpse, the like. Not that Lestari disliked any of those bands in particular, though she could certainly accuse their drummers of more than infrequently sacrificing aggression and destructive potential in favour of technicality and gymnastics, but... well, ya just couldn't beat that kinda old school 'Reign in Blood on 'roids' thrash-out annihilation. Though Legion were of course a melodic death metal band, Lestari did make a concerted effort to imbue their music with that sort of aggression-- and clearly it'd worked out properly. Liam, being the de facto head of the band, had never told her he disliked her drumming style, and if he did... well, why the hell would he have accepted her into the band in the first place? She'd never exactly made pretenses about the way she liked to drum.

Naw, but that was off topic. Lestari simply felt that the crowd had gone too long listening to either machine gun blast beats, convoluted time-signature-fucking jazzy shit, or brainless quarter note crash chug beats, and decided it was high time they got another thrashing. And so she joined her bandmates as they traipsed off for the backstage to begin setting up for their own setlist-- always a quick process, at least nowadays. Back when Lestari had first started out with Demigorgon, it'd been a nightmare. Her drums would be all over the place, and she'd be trippin' all over 'em tryin' to get 'em set up... and Kaede...

Lestari's lips made a strange motion, as though unable to decide between a wry smile or a rueful frown. Kaede would always find something wrong to complain about. If it wasn't something obvious-- a fucked up cable, or a headache right before the show-- then she'd deliberately go looking for something to be unhappy about. One time, Lestari had gotten the dubious honour of sitting through a good ten minute rant about how distracted she was gonna be the whole time by some random drunk off his ass midget dude in the crowd wearing nothing but a Mexican flag and blabbering away in what Lestari was still convinced was the worst fake Irish accent she'd ever heard. Admittedly though, now that she thought back on it, that woulda been pretty distracting to her too-- but she wouldn't have said as much, not back then. After all, the last thing Kaede had needed was Lestari encouraging her stubborn insistence on finding something to be pissed off about...

"Hey, Lestari, you gonna help us set up or do you plan on staring off into space like Rocky before the big fight?"

The drummer stirred from her thoughts with a start, and found Alex staring at her with a raised eyebrow. She gave a contrite nod, and wasted no more time.

Kodie cocked her head slightly and turned to watch as Cormy went to go do whatever he was going to do - from what Izzie was saying it probably meant he was going to get drunk or get into an arm wrestling match or something else equally manly. For the most part she had seen Cormy as being a pretty chill guy - you know, aside from his whole dramatic approach to things but she did remember Craig recounting some of the more exciting nights where the Psychosis drummer had gotten himself into some trouble. She hoped this wasn't going to be one of those nights.

"I'll try and keep an on him then." Craig said to Izzie lifting his shoulders in a shrug before.



Izzie muttered an 'alrighty' after Kodie decided to go for one of the shirts. She then rose to her feet, tossed the shirt to Kodie and then left the duty to man the merch table to her and Craig before heading off to go catch the next band. The young guitarist looked vaguely disappointed, but Kodie just nodded once. Sitting at a merch stand in the back wasn't necessarily one of the best places to watch a gig. Sometimes depending on your height standing in a crowd could suck but considering Izzie's height that wouldn't really be a problem. "Alright." She said to her and then walked around the merch stand.

"Do you think the both of us really need to stand here?" Craig cast a longing look toward the crowd.

Kodie sighed, knowing he was just going to stand there longingly if she said she'd prefer him to be there since she was so new. "Go on. I think I can make do." She said, waving him off with a small smile and then turning her own eyes to the stage.




Judging by Lestari's expression she wasn't sure how to take his comment. He hadn't meant it negatively at all - he probably should have smiled or something to give her a better idea of what he was thinking, now that he thought about it. It was a little hard to express emotions when you were shouting above music like Aborticide's. He watched as she hastily scrawled away at the notepad, probably eager to get out into the crowd since that's where she looked to be heading off to. She said essentially what he had assumed of Alex's choice to keep Helen a secret, but what he hadn't completely expected what that Lestari had found out by accident. "Right, that's kinda what I figured. I would have done the same thing had I been in your place. I didn't mean that badly either by the w-" He paused mid sentence as the young drummer was already hurrying off to the crowd. Well, he guessed he was just going to have to try to talk to her after the show then. He didn't like the idea of her hurrying off thinking he was unhappy with her.

Until then, he was going to watch some of Aborticide's show and then head back stage to start preparing for the show. He always liked to be a little early and make sure everything was how it was supposed to be.

Up here was where life truly began.

Alex gazed across the crowd just a couple feet down from the stage, reveling in the whoops and hollers and the raucous applause that immediately devoured the entirety of the venue as the lights dimmed and heralded the onset of Legion's set. Toward the back, hoisted up onto Michael's shoulders-- which didn't put her very high at all, but it sufficed-- Helen's little lungs were easily carrying her excitement over the cheers of the crowd. Alex failed to restrain a grin-- wouldn't have succeeded even if she'd bothered trying-- as she slowly raised her arm, her fingers stretching out into the gesture of metal horns pointed toward the little girl. Much as coulda been expected, this succeeded only in further envenoming a delight that Helen already appeared hardly capable of containing, and she reciprocated jubilantly, her arm outstretched and her hand throwing the horns. The crowd must have found this a touching moment of solidarity between a child only beginning to explore the vast and strange world of metal and someone who helped shape that very same world; to Alex, it was an expression of love between a parent and a child that dwarfed any of the cliched hugs and kisses bullshit such a thought normally conjured up.

Of course, Helen hadn't come there for expressions of love between a parent and a child-- well, not primarily, anyway. She was there first and foremost to be blown the fuck away by some heavy goddamn metal, and though she may well have adored Aborticide, and though she may well have remarked that the sheer heaviness of some of the more brutal death metal bands had just about vibrated her earplugs right outta her ears, Alex intended for her to come away from this show a staunch Legion fan.

But there was no time for further such contemplations-- at least, not according to Lestari, it seemed. The drummer had the distinct honour, given the band's choice of opening song, of kicking off each set, which she did with interminable gusto each and every time. Now was no different: the drums came blasting in at full force straight from the get go, double bass drums pounding away like the fatalistic report of an M60 machine gun, and Alex slid her pick up across the string of her guitar before joining in the aural assault. And so began, and followed, and ended an hour of thrashing, of headbanging, of raging and snarling and spitting-- in other words, of submerging herself to the lungs in the violence and the energy of the music.






"MAN WAS THAT A KICKASS SHOW OR WHAT."

Cormac opened up immediately with that enthusiastic line the second he saw Craig and Kodie again-- well, actually, he opened up immediately with that enthusiastic line the second he saw two people he thought were Craig and Kodie, only to realise they were in fact just a couple random assholes, to whom he bade farewell by grunting 'oh for fuck sake you aren't Craig and Kodie'. Thereupon, he went off again in search of Craig and Kodie, and upon ascertaining their identities, he bellowed once again, "MAN WAS THAT A KICKASS SHOW OR WHAT."

For his own part, the little drummer was certainly feelin' like a million bucks-- he had that pre-bar buzz goin', y'know, where there's just a hint of that drunken euphoria but it's even better 'cause you know it's just a precursor to getting even more wasted later on. This was the last night they were gonna get to do that kinda thing; from here on out, as Izzie had repeatedly stressed, all stops were gonna be pulled, and, as she'd put it, "the tourin' life begins for real-- better leave any memories of comfort, privacy, and ease behind'. It was nonstop driving across the country from then on-- snatch a few hours of sleep in a motel, and not the fancy kind they'd been luckin' out with the past few days, and then up at the crack of dawn to drive to the next place. Izzie had made it clear that the second anybody was too hungover to get their shit moving when it had to get moving, the second anybody couldn't work efficiently because they'd fucked up somehow, hell was gonna be paid; fortunately, it didn't appear they were gonna be makin' too many stops between shows and hotels. Izzie'd plotted out healthy places to eat, and gyms near the venues/motels where one could pay for a day pass, neither of which Cormac suspected would be much fun for him. Oh well. He'd just have to live it up tonight, then!

"We're gonna have to live it up tonight guys," he took it upon himself to point out to his two bandmates as the crowd from the show slowly began to filter out. Izzie was nowhere to be seen, naturally, and Cormac figured she was probably long since making for her room back in the hotel to hoard the last decent night of sleep any of them were liable to be getting for another month now. Yep-- it was just gonna be them three. The three amigos. The three musketeers. The three stooges. Okay, granted-- in this particular group, Cormy was probably the only stooge. Not the point!

"Either'a yous know any good bars around here? Or maybe got one of those phones with, like, eternal internet access so we can look one up?"






Lestari was still tugging on a shirt, her hoodie toted along in her hands, as she and the rest of the band emerged from the backstage of the venue, feeling the last hour of relentless pummeling in her muscles-- it was a satisfying soreness, not unlike the sort you felt after a particularly good work out. As with every show, she was definitely gonna need a shower; after all, it wasn't a truly good performance, Lestari felt, unless you walked away so drenched in sweat you coulda knocked out an elephant a mile away, though she had been told that others were not so inclined to agree with this perspective. Oh well, she would have replied with a casual shrug of her shoulders. Not everybody can be as metal as I am.

Speaking of being metal, Lord Fever at that point was several meters away, her strongly muscled arms, freed of the confines of her jacket, wrapped tightly around her daughter. Lestari smiled; Helen looked about ready to fall asleep then and there, but then, nobody in the band could really be offended by that. She was but eight years old, after all, and it was frankly impressive she'd managed to maintain the level of energy she'd displayed up until now. She was still grinning like her life had just been made in that single night, though, and that was all that mattered-- all that, Lestari suspected, Alex needed to be the happiest parent in the world right about now. They were murmuring things to one another, it seemed, but whatever it was, it was inaudible, and none of Lestari's business anyhow. She turned back to Liam and Chris, pulling her hoodie on over her head, before she reached into the pocket and busted out her handy notebook (which was running out of space by now-- she was gonna have to grab a new one at some point, unless everybody in the band spontaneously learned sign language).

So, what's the plan of action now? she silently asked of the other two, and then nearly jumped out of her skin as Alex, apparently having finished speaking with Helen, appeared right behind her. "I recall something being said of going for a drink."

So did Helen enjoy the show? Lestari inquired with a smile. Alex shrugged her broad shoulders, but the little smirk tugging at her own lips implied there were no doubts about it. "She was so exhausted she could hardly form a coherent sentence, but I did manage to get 'awesome', 'greatest thing ever', and 'so metal', which I guess means we did okay."

Reckon we upstaged Aborticide?

"Oh, I'd say we managed to kick 'em off the throne by the end of the night," Alex confirmed, crossing her arms across her chest almost a little smugly. "If there was ever any doubt before, tonight cinched the deal: Helen Rykov-Chen is officially Legion's biggest fan. Give her a couple years and a little more allowance and she'll be buying every one of our shirts and ordering every version of every edition of every vinyl, CD, and tape we've ever put out."

Lestari made a face. She's gonna be one of those fans who goes to a show and boos every band except for the one she specifically came to see, ain't she?

"Oh hell no, she's not. I love my kid, but if she ever becomes the prototypical metal elitist, talking about how she was 'into that band before it got popular', or how they're 'big label cash cow sell outs' because they don't release fifty hand-numbered copies of each album out of their own wallet, there's gonna be hell to pay." That provoked a smirk from Lestari, who reparteed with, I can't imagine someone of your flesh and blood could ever become one of those cretinous wretches, so I think we can safely set the subject aside. Anyway, you plan on coming with us for drinks?

The guitarist appeared briefly doubtful, but reluctantly, she assented. "Fuck it. Might as well have a quick drink or two in celebration."

Good, Lestari couldn't help but think a little desperately. Maybe tonight would be little luckier if neither of them was sober when she dropped the L-bomb.

Craig made his way back over to Kodie as Legion kicked off their show. He figured he'd left her long enough at the merch tables. Izzie was nowhere to be seen and they'd had their little shop up long enough he thought that it was time to close up and go enjoy the night although the bassist seemed to have no issues with standing at the merch booth watching Legion. Their drummer was beating away at their kit like there was no tomorrow, the guitarist who seemed to be the showman of the group was lifting her hand up in the devil horns as was a tiny little human (probably a kid, which surprised him a little considering he rarely saw kids at gigs.), the bassist was pacing around the stage. The singer was kicking the song off with some lows that impressed Craig a little, which he supposed was good because the guy didn't seem overly eager to run around the stage like the bassist.

"So, you ready to -"

"MAN WAS THAT A KICKASS SHOW OR WHAT." Cormac exclaimed as he made his way over, showing early signs of intoxication. Looks like he was getting a headstart on the night.

"Cormy's back." Craig stated, obviously as he glanced at Kodie who looked like she was pretty sure she'd noticed considering Cormy's opening line hadn't exactly been a subtle one. "Yeah, Aborticide really destroyed it." He told Cormy, nodding.

Evidently Cormy seemed dead set on living tonight up since Izzie had made it abundantly clear that there was to be no fucking around once the tour got serious and they weren't going to be having any pleasant extended stops where they had no hope of easily recovering from hangovers. "Sounds good to me." He would always look forward to a good night out - maybe he wouldn't get shitfaced drunk but he was definitely going to make it worth his while to go out. "Kodie, you in?" Craig asked the bassist who merely nodded a confirmation. She was usually game for a night out.

When asked if either of them knew any bars, Craig blinked. He had no idea where a good bar would be around here, he wasn't familiar with the area - he thought he'd seen one when they had been driving into town but now that it was dark and he hadn't been around the town entrance in a while he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to find it. "No idea." He confessed, looking to Kodie who just shook her head. The phone idea might not be a bad one.

"Alright, I think the phone might be the best choice then." Craig said as he pulled out his iPhone, the idea of potentially getting lost not feeling like a good one.





Liam stepped out of the backstage section of the venue with the rest of the band, Chris chattering next to him about how great the crowd had been, to which Liam had to agree. The crowd had been good, they had participated and not just stood there looking unimpressed - many had headbanged and some had even moshed. Little Helen had probably been their biggest fan though.

Alex had just gotten done speaking to her daughter when Lestari inquired as to what they were going to be doing now and suggested a drink. Liam remembered Chris saying he had wanted to go out for a drink and he had also thought it would be a good idea. Before Liam could utter a word though, Alex suddenly reappeared and the topic changed. Liam didn't mind though, it would be pretty cool to have your own kid come watch you play.

He found himself smiling as Alex informed them that they had upstaged Aborticide and that they were still Helen's favorite band. It probably made Alex happy to see her daughter had enjoyed the show so much - even though she was about as straight faced as ever, he thought that she was probably happy with the way the night had gone. He didn't know how you couldn't be though, when someone was that excited about an event like that. "Its always nice to hear we have a new fan." He said as people milled around them. His attention was drawn back to his own bandmates when Alex stated there was no way in hell she was going to let her kid grow up to be a metal elitist, which made him chuckle a little. "She's just a very dedicated fan." He stated, knowing that what Alex said was likely true - he couldn't imagine her putting up with any shit from her kid, even though he was pretty sure she loved Helen more than anything.

Alex surprised him a little by stating that she would be heading out with the rest of them for drinks though. He had never known Alex to really be a drinker but he supposed tonight had been nice so perhaps she just wanted to celebrate? "Sounds good to me. Anyone know of any good places around here or should we just try our luck with whatever is in the area?" He inquired.

"AND SO IT BEGINS," Cormac declared upon the consent of the three parties involved-- either he was earnestly determined to outmatch the vocalist of Aborticide for sheer volume and homicidal rage, or he was really just drunk off his balls and blissfully unaware that he had any other speaking volume options besides 'not enough people around me contracted tinnitus from the several hours of blistering metal their ears just endured, so clearly I have to do my part in finishing the job'. Either way, he was certainly in high spirits.

Okay, granted, this wasn't entirely accurate: he had his own host of issues, and if there was anything he had to look forward to tonight, it was washing them all out of mind and out of sight with a profuse stream of alcohol. For one, still fresh in his mind was Edei's departure; now, maybe this was a purely one-sided sentiment, but he did consider that strange little creature his friend, and he was still worried about her. Of course, wondering what could possibly have gone wrong, wondering how she was doing and whether she was okay and hoping that was the case, none of that mattered worth a shit when he couldn't find any means of contacting her and finding out-- wondering and hoping didn't mean shit. He could hold out on the hope that maybe, considering this was Edei they were talking about here, she'd show up in the middle of the show somewhere in Texas and mutter something about 'had to go save the universe from the Anti-Monitor' before resuming her duties as bassist-- but that was a far-flung hope. It would have been awesome, yes, but far-flung all the same.

And on top of that, of course... there were the pressures of touring. Edei'd had her fair share of experience, it had seemed, with the vagaries of touring, and he definitely got the impression that Kodie was anything but new to the gigging lifestyle. But Craig appeared to be in the same boat as Cormy: namely, neither of them had ever been on this kinda big-time sea-to-sea tour before. Sure, back with Napalm Terror, he'd played many a show-- but those were trifles, local concerts organised amongst friends and played in somebody's garage, or maybe a club somewhere that was particularly friendly to the crust scene. The longest he'd ever had to drive for a show was three hours to play possibly Napalm Terror's 'biggest' show at some rundown club in Manhattan with a few friends and their bands. Crossing the entire goddamn country and playing shows all along the way... yeah, that was a smidge outside his scope of experience.

Not to mention the person who was arguably in charge of his life for the next month or so. The fact that, according to Izzie herself, she was 'much less of an unremitting asshole' now with Psychosis than she'd been just a handful of years ago wasn't very comforting considering the only thing he could conceive of that was more of an asshole than Izzie right now was a rabid grizzly bear, and he didn't much fancy the prospect of her deciding she liked being that person better halfway through the tour. And not only that, but he sure as hell didn't fancy the thought of just what she might do if he really did fuck up-- if he got in one too many fights, or just one fight at the wrong time in the wrong place. Sure, he'd sworn to himself that he'd be extra careful, but he'd already nearly crossed the line at the last show. And for fuck sake, this was Izzie he was talkin' about-- Izzie who'd fired more people than she'd ever actually met in her life. For all he knew, it would take nothing more than 'hey, some asshole was being a dick in the mosh pit' for her to preemptively can him. After all, he liked playing in Psychosis-- he enjoyed the music, he enjoyed playing it, he liked hanging out with Craig and Edei, he even liked Kodie despite having known her for all of a couple days, and sometimes Izzie was moderately human. He liked being here; he didn't like the thought of being kicked out.

Which brought him back to the original point: getting drunk as shit so he could spend at least tonight not fretting over any of that. And then the next morning, he'd be too hung over to worry as well. Win win!

At least when next he spoke, he was no longer bellowing his lungs out, either because he had realised there was no way in hell he was matching that fucker from Aborticide (she musta been part dinosaur or some shit, man) or, perhaps more likely, because he had realised there was in fact no reason to be yelling now that the show was over and Craig and Kodie were about an inch away from him. "Well, I say to ye who hath the holy phone of guidance... lead on!" He struck a pose and then slipped on a bit of spilt beer, prompting a great deal of laughter from a nearby group of lingering crowd-goers who managed to catch him falling on his ass. "Lead on quickly," he urged, blushing furiously as he clambered back up to his feet.







A similar conversation, sans scrawny drummer falling on ass, was taking place over on Legion's end of things.

Alex had lived in this area a few years back, a time which she generally made a concerted effort to not think about, and truth be told could still remember the location of each and every place where you could get any kind of booze like she knew each and every note of the setlist they'd just played-- but she earnestly didn't want to be the one to bring it up. She was therefore profoundly relieved when Lestari piped up-- the scrawling of pencil against paper announced her impending words, and a half a second later, she held the notepad out to Alex for her to read it aloud.

"I say we take this opportunity to explore and expand our figurative horizons," the guitarist read off, before turning to the grinning drummer. "Explore, eh? I'll let you take the lead on this one then, Christopher Columbus. Bear us unto our destination, o augur of good cheer and hearty drink." Lestari took a deep bow before Alex, and then a second later, she was off-- carving a swathe through the remnants of the audience (mostly people too stoned to realise the show was actually over) toward the exit of the venue.

They stepped out into the frigid New York September night air, to a relatively vibrant night life; this wasn't the sort of neighbourhood where you didn't dare step foot outside after sunset, not on your own, at least. Then again, the drummer mused wryly. I doubt we of Legion would have much to fear even in such an environment. Three of the band looked like nobody you wanted to necessarily fuck with on their own, not if their physique was anything to go by, and Alex alone, with her spiked jacket, her dreadlocks, and her broad-shouldered build, could probably scare off any prospective gang of muggers. Liam, though.... yeah, Liam was shit outta luck in that case. He's gonna have to put in some serious time at the gym if he hopes to keep up with his bandmates. Fortunately for him, again, it was not one of those neighbourhoods. There were many bars and clubs that were open all night in the vicinity, with large crowds of people massing from one to another, and a shapeless blur of voices and laughter was thick in the air. Lestari went by her own general little rule of thumb, which was that the best bars were usually the loudest ones, and therefore wasted little time in tracking down her quarry.

"Oh, this place," Alex couldn't help but murmur under her breath as they approached it-- yep, she had to give Lestari credit for her bar-seeking nose; this was one of the city's more reputable (or perhaps more accurately, disreputable) watering holes. She'd frequented this establishment many a time herself with Plague Lord back in the day-- but she intended to keep the number of glasses attributed to her to a minimum this time. No more drinking games, no more challenging the entire band to try and outdrink her, none of that. Just a couple drinks, and then bed, and the night would end normally and plainly. Right? Right.

Both Craig and Kodie found themselves wincing slightly as Cormac loudly declared, 'And so it begins' at the top of his lungs. Craig wasn't sure if Cormac simply hadn't realized that there was no longer any reason to be shouting seeing as the show had come to a halt or if he was just that drunk already and had no idea he was standing about an inch away from them.

None the less, he had wasted no time in whipping out his phone and searching for the nearest halfway decent bar. There was no way he was passing up tonight - now, he wasn't planning on losing his shit and ending up in a gutter somewhere but he was definitely going to have some fun. The tour was going to be getting serious (not that it hadn't always been serious) but he was definitely going to have to show some responsibility so Izzie didn't see a reason to can him after the tour because he clearly couldn't handle it or something like that. This was his first big tour. Sure he'd done some small, fairly local stuff before this but it honestly couldn't really be compared to this and while he wanted to enjoy it there was no way he was going to fuck it up because he wanted to party.

For a minute or two there was only silence which meant either Cormac was zoning out, passing out or had vanished on an epic quest for the wondrous elixir known as alcohol on his own. He was probably going to go with the first option. Even so, the two of them didn't have to wait long for him to decide on one that seemed alright, click the little directions button next to it's name and turn toward the doors. "Alright, it's pretty close so we won't have much of a walk." He said, turning to start for the door when he suddenly heard a loud thud which caused burst of laughter from those around them. Craig himself had to restrain a smirk as he turned back to find Cormac on the floor while Kodie merely pursed her lips, reached out and patted the blushing drummer on the shoulder in her own sort of comforting way once he'd clambered back to his feet before nodding toward the door without a word. It was then that it had suddenly occurred to Craig that Kodie was actually taller than the drummer when she had stood there with her pale hand upon his shoulder, though it had only lasted a mere moment before she had gone back to keeping to her self as usual. He didn't think on that though and got a move on since Cormy certainly didn't look like he wanted to be standing around and began pushing his way through the crowd and out into the cool New York night, following the directions on his phone even though he got the feeling once they got close enough it wasn't going to be of much help. "I'm really hoping this thing isn't going to have one of it's bad nights. One time it led me around a neighborhood for a good thirty minutes before I found the place I was looking for on my own..."





The two men of Legion watched as Lestari piped in informing them she thought it would be a good idea to explore the city a little. Chris saw nothing wrong with that idea, in fact it may be sort of fun he thought as Lestari swept a bow to Alex. "Honestly, for a minute I thought you were going to call on me." Chris said to Alex, cocking his head slightly as though he couldn't fathom why someone would call on him. "My name is Christopher, after all. But honestly, Lestari is a much better choice so its probably good you didn't think of me." He wasn't familiar with the area and honestly didn't want to be responsible for leading anyone around in the dark considering the only way he hadn't accidentally killed himself in his room with the lights off was by utilizing the light of his trust o'l laptop or TV with The Legend of Zelda or something paused in the background. Besides, he thought that Lestari was kind of the natural choice for this whole sort of adventure thing even the fact that she brought it up aside.

He hurried off after Lestari, Alex and Liam when the drummer took off and wove her way through the remnants of the ever thinning crowd and out into the night. The neighborhood seemed to be alive and well with a fairly decent night life, the lights lining the street guiding them down the sidewalk. People were milling about going in and out of the clubs surrounding them and it actually didn't look too imposing or eerie, which was a plus. Because while Chris might have some muscle on him he was damn near gentle as a kitten in most scenarios. Although knowing Alex she could probably freeze a man with a single icy glare or crush a man's skull with her bare hands if she took a mind to. Come to think of it that kind of made her sound like one of the X-Men which would be pretty cool. He was going to keep that to himself though, he wasn't sure Alex would think that would be as cool as he did.


It didn't take long for Lestari to settle on quite possibly the loudest bar in New York but Chris wasn't going to complain. That just probably meant it was lively and fairly popular with the local folk, right? "Alright, now let's get some drinks." He grinned over at his bandmates.

"At least this doesn't look like the kinda place where we'll get stuffed into a van and murdered for wandering around at one in the morning," Cormac mused as they ventured out from the club, Craig maligning the vagaries of his phone. Now, Cormac liked to think he was anything but a Luddite, especially compared to Izzie (who, when it came to anything outside of musical and recording equipment, apparently hadn't realised technology had managed to make it past 1987-- it was a wonder she had any clue how to use her old flip phone). Still, he'd never been one for all that I-phone, Robot Phone stuff. I mean, he had one, sure-- a 'smartphone', that was-- but he knew how to call with it, text with it, and listen to music with it, and that was about the long and short of it. Searching the internet or finding directions to things... yeah, that was a little beyond him. He hadn't quite graduated to that level of smartphone usage just yet. And frankly, he was already too inebriated to acquaint himself with those function now of all times, so he was content to let Craig's phone take the lead on this one.

And so the intrepid trio departed-- in the name of booze, in the name of hedonism, in the name of one last night of merriment and mirth before the interminable, grueling death march of the tour. The night was anything but young, and yet the air rose and swelled with the characteristic ambiance of a healthy, vibrant night life. Cormac loved this kind of atmosphere-- now, make no mistake, he'd long since grown accustomed to the... er, less than affluent environments that hosted most of the squats he'd spent years of his life living in, and he liked to think he'd managed to divorce himself of the trappings of his middle-upper class upbringing. But still, the distinct world of flashing neon lights against the night sky, laughter and billowing voices in the streets, throngs of night owls darting in and out of all-night clubs-- he still had a soft spot for this kind of thing. Compared to the drabness of your standard squat scene, it was a welcome dose of life.

And the bar that Craig's phone had led them to was certainly not lacking in life. It had to be probably the loudest place on the block, and judging by the number of people coming in and out of it every second as they approached, it had the popularity to match the volume. Cormac was already smiling as they played along with the usual bar protocol and were ushered into the establishment to enjoy one last night of--

The drummer's anticipation came to an abrupt, grinding halt as he felt himself damn near slammed to the floor; he staggered to the side and was saved from yet another humiliating tumble to the floor by the presence of the wall. Not that being shoved aside like that was any less embarrassing-- especially not when.... His eyes narrowed on a particularly large person-- a man, musta had eight inches and sixty pounds on Cormac, obliviously engaged in hearty conversation with a few friends. Oh, fuck that. This big dude thought he could just go about shoving Cormy around like a rag doll and then go right back to blathering with his buddies about whatever stupid shit they were going on about? That shit was not gonna fly. Not tonight, when everything was supposed to go great in anticipation of the month of hell to come.

"Oi!" he bellowed over the music, an expression of uncharacteristic rage crossing his features-- they looked about as out of place on his jocular, lynx-like face as a manicure on an elephant. The big dude didn't even notice, and kept right on going until Cormac caught up to him and grabbed his arm-- and that got his attention. "Uh, can I help you?" he asked, which only further inflamed Cormac's fury-- here he was now, mocking Cormy with his false courtesy! "You just about sent me sprawling into that wall!" he snarled, and only grew even angrier when a look of puzzlement flitted across the big dude's face. "Did I? Sorry, dude. I must not have been paying attention. Glad I didn't do much damage!" With a good-natured chuckle, he began to turn away, but Cormac didn't give him much of a chance. "Bullshit! You deliberately shoved me outta your way!" His grip tightened on the guy's arm as he pulled him back toward himself. "You think just 'cause you're bigger than I am you have a right to push me around!"

The good-natured expression was gone now, replaced by bafflement and a certain hint of disdain. "Look, I dunno what kinda Napoleon complex you've got goin' on, but uh, it was definitely an accident. So how about you let go of my arm, and go right about your business, little man?"

What came after that was a little difficult to follow-- too much happened too quickly. Cormac lost his shit, punches were thrown, and the next thing anybody knew, the little Irish drummer had been sent sprawling into a nearby group of people-- people who were pretty far off drunk, and apparently didn't appreciate the dashing young gentleman who'd just been hurtled into their midst. In a sense, Cormac couldn't help but muse as he was suddenly submerged in a spontaneous bar brawl, it wasn't unlike how a mosh pit got started at a show-- except that here, nobody around him was helping to pick him up off the floor as bottles were shattered and fists were thrown all around him.






For Legion, it was every person for themselves-- but in rather a different sense than the brawl that was, unbeknownst to any of the four Legionnaires, about to unceremoniously bring their evening crashing down. Everybody was responsible for their own drinks tonight, and that sat just fine with Alex, who intended to polish off maybe one beer across the course of the night. Apparently, this wasn't so much the case with Lestari, who hit up the bar and enthusiastically shoved a piece of paper toward the bartender requesting 'the strongest liquor offered by this fine establishment!' The unamused bartender merely glared at her for a little while, before she grabbed the paper back and added 'or beer, whatever'. She wasn't much one for cocktails and such, after all-- she liked to think that, just like her drumming, her tastes were straightforward but satisfying nonetheless.

And it was good, for maybe all of ten minutes; the four of them went about the business of draining away their assorted drinks, discussing the show they'd just played or the shows to come, their tour mates, et cetera, et cetera. Lestari was lamenting that they had so many brutal death metal bands on the billing-- I lost brain cells just listening to them slam away, and believe me, I gotta hold onto every one that I've got! Alex, for her own part, concurred. "Now, I can get down with some Suffocation, or maybe a little Cryptopsy every now and then," she mused. "But as soon as you start bordering on Epicardiectomy levels of chugging--"

She trailed off into silence as the sound of a commotion drew her attention and the attention of much of the rest of the bar over toward the entrance. There one espied all the typical signs of a brewing bar brawl-- raised voices graduating into shoves, shoves graduating into punches, people being hurled into one another, expanding the brawl further and further as more and more patrons were embroiled in it. And in the middle of it all...

Isn't that the drummer from Psychosis? Lestari scribbled quickly onto her notepad and handed it over to Alex to read. The guitarist glanced up, and indeed, lo and behold, there was a skinny little dude in a battle jacket, right there in the thick of it-- though no sooner had she caught sight of him than he had vanished into the storm. "It was," she noted languidly, before quickly downing the rest of her beer and setting it back down on the bar. "We should probably get outta here," she pointed out with a shrug of her broad shoulders. "Before the cops come by and start arresting everybody who's ever so much as glanced at this place."

Chris for his part had taken off to the bar and immediately ordered himself some drinks shortly before realizing that the bartender currently serving him was a pixie-like, auburn haired beauty and no sooner than he realized that was he awkwardly stumbling over his words. Liam had tagged along for a bit before the bassist had taken to shyly flirting with the female bartender, who after a good couple of minutes seemed to show some minor interest.

Not too keen to stay there while Chris either got drunk or he actually made solid progress with the bartender (He was willing to wager that Chris would get so drunk he would make an ass out of himself or pass out before he reached the point that he could actually openly and respectfully voice his interest to the woman), Liam had decided to move away from the bar and to the outskirts with his beer. He passed some of the Psychosis members as he made his way over to an empty table. Once he was there he surveyed the room for a moment. Lestari and Alex were at the bar still.

Liam, who had for once not brought along his notebook was left to his own devices then. Perhaps he should have stayed with Chris, he wondered as he glanced back over at the bar where the bassist was speaking to the bartender with open adoration. Nah, on second thought he was probably better off over here. Still, he wished he'd at least brought his notebook so he could work on things instead of just sitting alone like he was moping.


The Psychosis members caught his eye. They looked like they had just gotten here. The guitarist was off at the bar still waiting for his drinks but the stand in bassist on the other hand, had walked off after grabbing a drink, said something to the guitarist and was now heading off to the tables near him. She glanced at him briefly before making her way toward another nearby empty table and slapping down a large hardcover copy of some book.

Liam, though not generally one to pry found himself peering over at it in curiosity. Normally he would mind his own business and just sort through the night and the show but he found himself wanting some company tonight. "Good book?" He inquired over the noise of the bar. She didn't move for a while and for a moment he wondered if she had heard him at all before she suddenly replied with, "Seems to be. I'm only a little ways in." as she looked back to him.

He nodded slowly, silently wondering how to continue this conversation. She hadn't struck him as the terribly chatty type unlike her friend who seemed to be reveling in conversation and alcohol already. Thankfully, she spared him the task of trying to find a way to continue the conversation. "You guys did good tonight." The black haired bassist stated.

"Thanks. You did as well, I know it was your first show with Psychosis but you did quite well in my opinion." Liam replied. "I think you work well with Psychosis' sound."



Craig glanced back over toward the tables where Kodie had gone rather than remain in the crowded area around the bar. To his surprise when he finally managed to locate the dark haired bassist - she and the Legion vocalist were talking, sitting across from each other at a table. They seemed to be getting along quite well, though they hadn't spoken too much at the church - what they were talking about he didn't know but they seemed to be having a good time. He turned his attention back to his new companions when all of a sudden shouts erupted from near the entrance of the bar. Ah, hell... Craig thought, getting a bad feeling about it. Sure enough when he looked to the entrance he saw Cormy smack in the middle of it. He stood up and started hurrying over there to hopefully haul the drummer out of there before things got...Well, it was already looking bad.



The two fell silent as the clamor of a newly beginning fight arose from near the entrance of the bar. "Why is Craig getting involved?" Kodie wondered aloud, frowning as she watched him dodge between people, narrowly avoiding getting punched in the face. She knew he was stupid but he wasn't stupid enough to just throw himself into a fight for no reason. Her answer came soon enough as she saw none other than Cormac McMurphy in the middle of it. Great. He hadn't been that drunk earlier, had he? She looked back to Liam who seemed to be looking for his bandmates, but she saw his expression relax after a second which told her they were out of the fight. Go figure, she was just starting to have a nice night when her friends got themselves into a damn bar fight. "Sorry, I have to go." She told him, quickly, jumping up and starting toward the crowd where she had seen Craig vanish. Whether she or Craig got to Cormac first didn't really matter, as long as the got out. She wasn't just going to leave them to it and besides, the cops were probably going to show up soon which meant their night out at the bar was about to come to an end.

"You aren't seriously going in there after them, are you?" The lanky vocalist asked, concerned. She shrugged as she kept walking. She for one wasn't really a stranger to bar fights and wasn't going to balk at the idea of going into one to help her friends out but this was something she was pretty sure wasn't something the quiet man would want to get himself involved in. "Yeah. I need to make sure Craig doesn't get sidetracked while Cormy gets the crap beaten out of him." She explained as she picked her way through the growing crowd of people who were either trying to get out, throwing punches or just simply watching. Kodie found herself ducking a lot to avoid getting hit accidentally or intentionally. Liam was still tagging along. She was following Craig, or at least she hoped it was Craig. She wasn't sure how many people had shaved heads and deer skull tattoos on their arms.

Now this was something of a quandary. Lestari liked to think herself a good-natured, moral sorta person-- notwithstanding the fact that were it not for her intention to confess her love to her bandmate in about an hour, she would totally have jumped right into the brawl herself. And being a good-natured, mortal sorta person... she couldn't just leave that Psychosis drummer to get the ever-lovin' fuck beat outta him, could she? Sure, she still planned on getting back at him for shitting all over her first attempt to confess her amour to Alex (good-natured and moral, sure, but hardly forgiving), but goddammit, if she was to have her revenge, it would be on her own terms. And it probably won't involve trampling the poor fucker to death, she added, wincing at what he must have been enduring down there on the floor.

She turned to find Alex, who had gone over to extricate Chris from his romantic negotiations with that rather lovely bartender he'd been trying to woo (a few months back and she probably woulda been tryin' to do the same, shit), returning with the none too chuffed bassist in tow. "Ready to take off?" she directed to the Indonesian drummer, but Lestari hesitated. She shot a glance back toward the nexus of the brawl, and then turned back toward Alex with an almost pleading expression. I feel like we oughta help that poor bastard, she beseeched of Alex, who met the note with a raised eyebrow. "You want us-- or me-- to go and rescue somebody neither of us know, care about, or have any reason to help, at potential risk to our own bodily harm, when the police are liable to be right around the corner?"

Lestari's face almost fell, but she felt Alex's hand on her shoulder as the larger woman walked past her. "Just bear well in mind if it were anybody else askin' I probably woulda said no," she tossed over her shoulder. And Lestari, her cheeks flush with delight she was very much failing to restrain, followed close after.






It was a testament to the sheer number of times Cormac had put himself in situations where someone really, really wanted to kick his ass that he had learned to shrug off the blunt force pain harbingered by the impact of somebody's fist, foot, or skull against his body. Granted, he could hardly be called particularly durable-- not in the sense somebody who actually did any meaningful fighting or martial arts training might be, or even somebody with no such martial training but a good bit of strength training under their belt, more in the sense of somebody so accustomed to getting the shit beat outta 'em that they've sorta just adapted to it. It probably wouldn't make much of a difference if somebody like Izzie or Craig, or either of the two women from Legion, decided they really wanted to see him squirming and groaning on the ground covered in bruises, but he supposed it helped just a little bit now that he was no longer the focal point of the bar's aggression. Now, lying on the floor and desperately doing his damnedest not to get trampled, he could at the very least ignore the aching that had already been inflicted upon him before the brawl had truly exploded into pandemonium.

The little Irish drummer managed to avoid getting stomped on too badly as he crawled in the general direction of 'the fuck outta here', but the prospect of safety appeared quite far-flung, right up until the crowd suddenly thinned just a little bit. He felt a surge of hope as he crawled along further, under the impression he was about to reach safety at last, before he felt a hand seize him by the scruff of his battle jacket and yank him up into the air. Cormy gave a helpless yelp, convinced that big dude, or somebody else who'd decided they had a beef with him tonight, had tracked him down again, and was about to lay into him for real this time. Imagine his grateful bafflement, then, when he was turned around, and found himself facing...

"Top of the evenin' to ya," the guitarist from Legion drawled. Over her shoulder, he found that she and that automaton of a drummer had cut a healthy swathe through the brawl, which continued to rage all around them nevertheless; the drummer, Lastora or whatever her name was (look, Cormac wasn't good with Polish names, okay?), had apparently retrieved... oh. His face fell just a bit. She'd gotten Craig and Kodie. Great-- just what he needed, for them to get a nice look of him suspended in the air by the guitarist of Legion, who'd just saved his ass from a bar brawl he was primarily responsible for. As his two bandmates approached, the Legion guitarist, still holding him aloft in one of her hands, glanced over to them, and then turned to face them. "I believe this belongs to you," she offered.

As Lestari pointed out with a swiftly scrawled note, however-- things in the bar were still anything but cordial, and the police were probably gonna be on the place like a swarm of flies on a rotting corpse in a second, so perhaps it would be best to take things outside whilst they still could. Alex concurred and, still toting along Cormy like a sack of (almost but not really) Irish potatoes, she led the way out from the discord of the bar into the cool evening air of the yet-vibrant night life outside. At last, she set the drummer down, which was fortuitous, because he wasn't sure just how much more humiliation he coulda withstood that night-- but one look at the reflective glass of the windows that spanned the wall of the bar they'd just left, and he almost wilted then and there. For there on his face, loud and proud and incredibly difficult to ignore, was a massive black eye.

"Izzie's gonna have my skin for this," he breathed in horror, staring at his face in the window and trying not to think how much worse it would look once she got a look at it and extrapolated from that what had gone on.

Chris had been silently trying to talk himself into asking the bartender if she had plans for later tonight while he polished off his drink. I should do it...If I don't I'll always wonder...Well, maybe she'll think I'm too forward. Maybe her number? No, I probably won't be in this area again for how long...But maybe that'll give her the idea... He was so busy trying to decide how to go about this situations that he was completely taken by surprise when the fight broke out. He looked for his bandmates for a moment and then unsurprisingly Alex came for him. Great. That meant they were leaving. Not that he really wanted to get caught up in that though..

"Dammit. Really?" He tried not to sulk as he looked back to the wide-eyed bartender when Lestari said she wanted to go help the poor Psychosis bastard who was apparently in the middle of the whole thing.




Eventually Kodie caught up to Craig with Liam in tow. The three made their way through the crowd with moderate difficulty, at one point Craig knocked some drunk asshole to the ground when they took a swing at them and then got momentarily sidetracked when the guys friend came at them. Kodie was almost knocked over by someone who was being shoved not two feet from the path they were weaving through the crowd and Liam was left following in their wake. Poor bastard. By the time they reached Cormac however, he was being held up in the air by his battle jacket by some random asshole. Craig was about to step forward and start a fight if need be when they realized that he was being held by the guitarist of Legion. Craig's shoulders immediately relaxed. Not about to question Cormac as to how this came about right now (even though he already suspected what had happened, and he doubted it was that Cormy had just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.), he stepped forward. "Yeah, he does." He said, a little relieved. After all the fights he'd been in he'd probably gotten good at not getting completely torn up, though so he should've guessed he'd be alright. Although he did look like he was probably going to have a shiner tomorrow. Overall he looked just fine though, that was all that mattered. He turned his attention back to the guitarist and drummer.

He was about to ask them to hand Cormac over when the Legion drummer said that they should probably get out of there. She had a good point, the cops were probably going to show up and he didn't really like the idea of being caught in the middle of it. "Yeah, you make a good point there." He told Lestari (He was pretty sure that was her name, anyway.) and then followed them out, Cormac still being carried by the scruff like a puppy or a cat or some shit.


"Thanks again for getting him out of there. We were having a hell of a time trying to find him in that goddamn mess." He told the three Legion members once they were outside, glancing at Cormac subtly. He'd seen this happen enough times by now that the subtle implication would be enough for the drummer to assume that Craig knew he was likely responsible.

When the drummer was finally plopped back on the ground, he turned and looked at himself in the glass windows and his face immediately fell (Although Craig had to admit, the dude hadn't looked overly excited by the fact the Legion guitarist was carrying him around.).

"Izzie's gonna have my skin for this," Cormac said, horrified.

"Yeah. I think she even specifically told us to stay out of trouble." Craig replied with a sigh, sticking his hands in his pockets. He silently wondered exactly what Izzie was going to do to the poor drummer when she found out while that Liam dude went to go stand beside his bandmates. "Sorry if we kinda fucked up your night. I'm sure this wasn't exactly what you had in mind for tonight." He apologized, shaking his head as he looked to the four Legion members.

Craig was no help in this most precarious of situations-- merely confirming in case there was any lingering doubt that yes indeed, Cormac's shit was thoroughly fucked. Izzie had left no uncertainty about how she intended this tour to go, and considering how she'd reacted the other day when he'd done nothing much more than get into a fleeting scuffle in the mosh pits... Yeah, he didn't much fancy how she'd take coming upon him the morning after a night of drinking with a nice shiner to show for it.

But then...

"Hang on." The drummer turned back to face his bandmates, a faint speck of cynical hope flitting across his grim features. "I mean... Izzie doesn't need to know the exact details of how this happened. I mean, she doesn't need to know I got it in a spontaneous bar brawl that I totally didn't start or anything. We could just... we could tell her I ran into a pole or some shit." The flicker of tentative hope began to burgeon in intensity as he began to form his Harkonnen-esque scheme. "That could work! I mean, Izzie looks upon me as equal parts clumsy idiot and overly bellicose, she'd totally buy it if I told her I just walked smack into a random lamppost. And you guys could back me up. Yeah, yeah, it could wor..." He suddenly trailed off, and the brief spat of joy swiftly abandoned his expression as it fell desperate once more. "Wait, no she wouldn't. She knows me too well to buy it, even from you two."

"Well, why don't you just tell her we were there and saw it happen."

The flat tone of the question almost went right over Cormy's head, but when he turned to face the speaker, he found Alex Rykov, eyebrow raised at him. "What did you say?" he breathed as if in absolute disbelief.

Alex shrugged her shoulders. "Wouldn't be much trouble. Tell her the folks from Legion saw you walk face first into a pole, add that we're all dicks and laughed our asses off at it. If she really won't swallow your story from you guys, then I don't see why she wouldn't believe an uninvolved third party."

Cormac stared at her, as though he'd just caught a glimpse of an angel, descending from the heavens themselves. "You... you'd do that for me?"

"Nope," Alex shot him down flatly. "For me. I don't wanna have to deal with the hassle if your vocalist reenacts one of her songs on you and then the whole tour gets bogged down by the subsequent murder investigation. My motives are purely selfish in nature."

The drummer still looked about ready to hug her, but fortunately, he restrained the urge-- after all, he'd found a way not to get himself killed by Izzie, but he suspected that would have been a pretty good way to get himself killed by Alex.






It was well into the course of the night by the time Cormac was stumbling his way back to his hotel room-- he'd not managed to snag so much as a whiff of booze before the... uh, the events of the night, so to speak, but he was still pretty well and gone from what he'd downed back during the show. Now how is it, Cormac groused silently as he very nearly tripped over a particularly aggressive patch of oxygen particles and then gradually steadied himself. How is it that someone like Edei, who's every bit as skinny as I am and even shorter, at that, has the constitution of somebody built like a brick... and meanwhile I... I... His brow furrowed in puzzlement. I totally lost where I was going with this.

At long last, he managed to find his way to his hotel room, after exploring literally every floor except for the one he was on, and then spending ten minutes wandering that floor in search of it before he realised it was in fact right next to the elevator. As he drew closer, however, he realised there was something draped haphazardly over the door handle-- some sorta black fabric. A shirt, he noted, as he picked it up and found himself face to face with probably the most grotesque imagery he'd ever seen in his life (and that included Carcass album covers). The drummer blinked, turned the shirt over just long enough to read the words 'Brutalised And Skinned Alive' emblazoned across the back, and then decided he was much too exhausted to flip the massive shit he knew he would the second he had the energy for it.






So that was awfully nice of you.

Alex glanced up from the note to Lestari's face, which was currently host to an almost judicious sort of smirk. The guitarist gave her own little smile, and shook her head slightly. "I wasn't kiddin'. My motives really were of self-interest. Even if she fires him, I doubt they'll get lucky and find another drummer lyin' around."

It was still nice of you, Lestari insisted, her smirk clinging obstinately to the smooth features of her face. The poor guy looked about ready to drop to his knees and kiss your feet.

"Damn good thing he didn't. Even I shudder to think of the shit these boots have seen."

They were navigating the winding halls of the hotel alone-- Chris and Liam had either gone to their own rooms earlier or were still out hangin' out, it depends on what Armageddon decides, I don't fuckin' know. Lestari thought she was doing rather a nice job of maintaining a lively, optimistic veneer-- especially considering internally she was about ready to implode from sheer anxiety. I mean... this was it. She was gonna do it. In about ten seconds and counting, she was gonna soldier up and tell Alex Rykov that she was in love with her. And she wasn't gonna think of all the ways it could go wrong-- she wasn't gonna think of how Alex might be disgusted at the very prospect of another woman thinking of her that way, or of how Alex could have grown angry at her for turning a happy, memorable night sour, or of how Alex... shit, for all she still knew, might have been seeing somebody now anyway...

... Now hold the fuck up, I thought we agreed I wasn't gonna think about it.

"Well, I'm gonna turn in for the night. See you in the morning, Lestari."

Alex had already turned to retreat into the sanctity of her hotel room to scavenge what little she could of some sleep before she was once again snatched up in the maws of the hectic gigging life, but she stopped short as she felt Lestari's hand dart out for her shoulder-- the drummer damn near ended up sprawling into her in her evident eagerness, but when Alex turned to face Lestari, there was no enthusiasm there; only a narrowly restrained panic that was none too well hidden.

"What's wrong?" she asked, herself failing to obscure her concern, but Lestari merely shook her head, swallowed, and scrawled away a note. I have to talk to you. She cast a quick glance around the halls, devoid of life but for the two bandmates, and then nodded her head at the door to Alex's room. In there.

Alex quirked an eyebrow, but the strange look on Lestari's face dashed any interest in going straight to sleep anyway. "Okay," she assented quietly, as she cracked open the door to her room and admitted both herself and Lestari. The guitarist plopped herself down on the edge of the mattress at the far side of the room, and then nodded for Lestari to do the same, and the Indonesian tentatively lowered herself onto the bed beside Alex as though she were lowering herself into ice cold water. "Now..." Alex turned an appraising gaze onto Alex. "What's gettin' at you?"

So this was it. The endgame. She'd contemplated just how she was gonna do it all but every minute leading up to this final second, but now that the time had actually come, it seemed so much simpler than all that. Lestari took a deep breath, shut off pretty much all higher thought functions, grabbed her notebook, scrawled 'Alex, I love you', and then shoved the thing into Alex's hands as though it were the carcass of a beloved pet.

Alex stared down at the notebook, brow furrowed, and then looked up to Lestari and said, "Lestari, I can't read this."

Lestari gaped at her, unable to discern the meaning of her words briefly, before she snatched the notebook back up and wrote it down again. And then Alex took another look at it, raised an eyebrow, and added with a hint of a smirk to her lips, "You know I can't read Javanese, right?" And when Lestari tried again, her hand still shaking and when Alex merely mused, "Okay, now you're just fuckin' with me. I can't read a damn thing you're writing", the drummer just about lost her shit. And usually, when Lestari Kiaidemak lost control, things ended up with holes punched in them. Except this time, there was rather less of that, and rather more of her tossing the notebook aside, lunging at Alex, grabbing her broad shoulders, and pressing her lips against Alex's.

Both their eyes were wide as saucers-- as though Lestari couldn't believe what she'd just done any more than Alex could. And it was several seconds in which Lestari's brain scrambled to reconcile itself with what her body had just done before she finally had sense enough to pull away before Alex started struggling for air, because she, for her part, didn't seem any less shocked into veritable catalepsy than Lestari was. It was another few seconds in which the two stared at each other blankly, before Alex managed to breath, "Well... I... I could definitely read that."

Lestari's gaze flitted over to where her notebook lay discarded upon the floor, the pencil forlorn and forsaken just a couple feet away from it. But no elabouration was needed, it seemed-- Alex had already clambered up from the bed and begun pacing, with an exasperation and an anxiety that implied she'd definitely gotten the full scope of what Lestari had to say.

"So..." She began speaking in a slow, uncertain voice-- doubt that seemed alien delivered in a voice Lestari was so used to hearing speak words of conviction. "I feel like I shouldn't be surprised by this. I mean, we've always gotten along great. We laugh at the same jokes. Hell, we make the same jokes. Our senses of humour play off each other wonderfully. We both have goes at Liam all the time for not writing music at velocities that even Demolition Hammer would balk at, and we both make fun of Chris for knowing more Star Wars characters than he does real people. We have a great thing going here, and... I mean, shit, I even trusted you with knowledge of Helen when I didn't even feel like I could necessarily tolerate for Liam to know that much of me. And hell, it's not like I'm not into women-- romantically and sexually, that is."

Lestari's heart soared.

"But on the other hand," Alex added, a twinge of vexation tugging at her words as she paced about, hands shifting and clenching. "I know I'm in no state for a relationship right now. Fuck, do I know it. I'm still recovering from my first and last relationship... and the worst part is that the things I'm recovering from were things I did, to the person I'd married, to the father of my daughter. I have no right to that pain. It's not my cross to bear. But still, I live every second of my life knowing I hurt somebody I loved; I can't even figure out if I have the right to be afraid to love anybody else again knowing what I'm capable of doing to them. How could I possibly be in any state for a relationship?"

Lestari's heart sank.

"But, I mean--" Alex wheeled around to face Lestari, and stepped toward her earnestly, reaching down and taking her hands in her own. "It's not that I don't feel the same way about you, Lestari. Because I... I do really like you. And I do wanna be with you. And I wish I could be. But the thought is daunting-- the thought of running this risk again. I don't ever wanna do to you what I did to... to my husband."

Lestari's heart was... okay, it really wasn't too sure what to do with that. Be overjoyed that Alex did reciprocate her feelings? Be miserable that she was unable to believe she could act on them? Be scared that maybe she wasn't wrong in feeling like she had no right to love? No, wait, the fuck? That's all wrong. Lestari's brow furrowed. She was overcomplicating it-- and shit, when had overcomplication ever been Lestari Kiaidemak's jive? She preferred to discuss feelings the same way she played drums, and reminding herself of that lent her a certain... a certain comforting clarity.

The drummer set Alex's hands aside, and stood up from the bed; Alex stepped back almost a little meekly, watching as Lestari knelt down and picked up her notebook and her pencil, before returning to where Alex stood waiting. And then, she began writing. Alex watched her face, suddenly very inscrutable, her eyes behind the translucent barrier of her glasses offering nothing of what was going through her head as she scrawled away for what felt like damn well forever-- until, at long last, she looked up, and held the notebook out silently.

I understand.

Alex looked up, a grateful expression flitting across her hard features, but Lestari merely nodded down at the notebook for her to continue reading.

It took me a long time to feel like I could love again too. The first and last person I ever fell in love with left without ever telling me where or why. After that, I was afraid to love again for fear it would happen again-- that I would be left alone without even the cold comfort of knowing why they'd left. It took me all the way until now to convince myself it was worth the risk to tell you how I felt, even though I know that you would never deliberately hurt somebody you loved, Alex-- because I know you wouldn't. No, let me finish-- A flicker of a smile ran across Alex's lips, which had only just been about to open and admit a protest. -- I don't know the person you were back then. Maybe it's better I don't. But I do know the person you are now. I love the person you are now. And if you can't believe it yourself, then believe me: you could never hurt me. For one, I know you'd never let yourself. For another, I'm pretty damn tough, so trust me, I can take whatever you can dish out, sweetheart. Alex glanced up from the notebook, and found Lestari smirking just a little bit, and she couldn't help a smile herself.

"Thank you."

Lestari merely waved a casual hand, as if to say, nothin' but the truth, your honour.

"I'll... be thinking about it, okay?" Alex ventured, a smidge of that old certainty returning to her voice as her features moulded themselves as if by instinct into that familiar mien of inscrutable confidence. "It doesn't change anything between us right now, but I'll be thinking about it."

Some part of Lestari wished direly to take the irrepressible sensation of jubilance coursing through her veins right now and use it to break the world mile time, set a new record for double bass drum speed, and maybe become the first woman to walk the moon while she was at it, just for the fuck of it. Instead, she merely gave a nod, and an understanding smile. It was all she could do right now, after all-- smile, and wait.

And try not to implode from sheer anticipation in the meantime.

She was about to turn away and finally give Alex her privacy, however, when Alex spoke up again.

"But before you go, uh... do you think we could... again... ?"

Lestari grinned, and didn't let Alex sputter any longer than she needed to. Their lips met again, tongues entwined and breath upon cheeks, and thinking became something for another day.

Both of the present Psychosis members arched their brows at Cormac's sudden hope. Craig wasn't too surprised that the drummer was hoping for some way around this - hell, he was too. He didn't really want to witness the carnage that would occur if Izzie thought that he was going to fuck up her tour. But then again, Craig had never been renowned for his cleverness and so no plan came to mind. Cormy's plan was pretty good though, he had to admit. There had been multiple occasions on which Craig had noted that the drummer was especially clumsy, leaning over and realizing there was no wall there, walking into pillars, slipping on beer..."You might just be right there, Cormy. That could work." He said, nodding vigorously before the drummer once again made a good point. Izzie would be skeptical for that, wouldn't she? She would just figure he was covering for Cormy. Which he would be. "You're righ -" He broke off as the Legion guitarist piped up.

"Well, why don't you just tell her we were there and saw it happen."

"Yeah, we'll vouch for you guys." Liam said, and the bassist echoed this with a nod. He looked like he probably had some empathy for how Cormy felt, although considering the dude's bulk, he didn't look the type someone would easily want to take a swing at, although the guy seemed awfully timid.

Well, he'd be damned. The guitarist was going to be Cormac's savior. I guess stranger things have happened. He thought, relieved he wasn't going to have to see his friend's guts spilled tomorrow at least. He was grateful that Legion was willing to help them out, especially since they didn't really know them. "Thank you. It seems like you've saved our drummer from a terrible fate twice now. You guys really are amazing." He stated, offering the guitarist a smile.



Craig and Kodie had departed shortly after Cormy, although that was mostly because Kodie had taken a few minutes to bid the Legion vocalist farewell. He guessed that was probably because their conversation had come to an end before they had expected it to considering he had found Kodie on his heels right after he went in after Cormac.

The two left in silence after they thanked Legion properly for helping them out and then returned to their rooms, where Kodie found a shirt hanging from her door handle bearing the gruesome image of Brutalized and Skinned Alive. Craig on the other hand, his was seemingly missing (Unless Izzie just didn't particularly feel like giving up that much more merchandise that she could be selling.). Craig, feeling robbed of his share (He had no idea how true that really was.) then proceeded to flip through channels until he landed on some Shakespeare documentary with dialogue that put him to sleep nearly instantly.



Liam had been planning on returning to his room to spend the rest of his night in quiet after the whole bar fight deal but Chris still seemed sullen after losing his chance with the pretty bartender and had decided to head out to another bar. Liam had bid his farewell to Alex and Lestari and gone after him to make sure he didn't get himself into any trouble. That was all they would need, another fight on their hands - this one caused by his own bassist.

The other bar Chris had chosen was just as loud and crowded as the other one, although come to think of it, it's close proximity to the other one was probably part of the reason it was so busy - other folks had the same idea as Chris, when things went south there, they'd just move over a couple of buildings.

Truth be told, Chris didn't have much more success here. Instead, he just got drunk and stammered and blushed and found himself saying all sorts of inappropriate things which made one of the bartenders laugh and the other one bristle with irritation. Liam did his best to keep his bassist restrained, but along the way he found himself ordering a few drinks and eventually began to care less and less and after a while found himself retiring to his room.




The next morning he found himself down in the dining area of the hotel grabbing a cup of coffee - not spectacular, but it would do he supposed as he sipped it with a slight frown upon his face. He had gotten back fairly early on in the night he supposed, but he didn't know about his bandmates - Chris probably rolled in at some point, unless he actually ended up getting lucky but Liam had some doubts on that. As for Alex and Lestari, he had left before he knew what their plans were which made him wonder if Lestari had gotten around to telling Alex how she felt. He had to admit, he was incredibly curious as to what the guitarist would say but at the same time he was concerned for Lestari and how she would handle it if Alex didn't reciprocate. He figured Alex had probably come back to the hotel but for he all knew Lestari had gone back out for the night unless she wanted to try to find the right moment to tell Alex of her feelings or perhaps just wanted to spend more time with her.

Normally he would have texted them all to find out if anyone was actually awake and wanted to get some breakfast but he decided to let everyone have some time to themselves for now, after last night which had been much more eventful than he had anticipated he thought everyone had a right to relax and sleep in a bit today.

He caught sight of two of the Psychosis members grabbing some coffee as well, which made him wonder when Izzie Martinez would see and inquire about the drummer's black eye. Part of him contemplated greeting the two of them but he decided to keep to himself as he sipped his coffee. He had spent some time speaking to Psychosis' temporary bassist last night. He had found her company surprisingly pleasant and discovered he quite liked her - not in a romantic way, though it wasn't as though he found her unattractive though. She simply seemed like good company and they seemed to have more in common than he would have expected. They had discussed a few topics last night, including the worst and most amusing bands they had come across which was what they had been discussing when the fight had broken out and she had informed him that she needed to go help her friends which had ended their conversation rather quickly. He didn't blame her for that though, he would have done the same for Lestari and Alex who actually come to Cormac McMurphy's rescue before his actual bandmates had.

8 September, 2013

Izzie'd always been a morning person.

Call it habit, maybe-- after all, her initial motive for this ritual was long since irrelevant. Nevertheless, even now, when her eyes flickered open in the callow hours of the morning and were met with the nascent rays of the sun streaming through the window of her bedroom, unfettered by the drawn blinds, she still felt a twinge of that old sensation. She could all but feel the beating heart of a city whose veins and arteries were nothing like the one she'd woken up in this morning-- hear cars and trucks bellowing and braying like boisterous beasts of burden, raised voices mingling into a shapeless mass of noise through the paltry screen laid across the living room window. She could still hear Alice and Viviana snoring away contentedly as she suppressed a smirk and tip-toed around the living room gathering her things-- could still remember the grains of loose concrete and gravel beneath her boots and the cool morning air against her skin as she headed for the tramway, or the feel of her hand clutching tightly to the grimy metal pole as the rickety old thing began grinding away labouriously to deliver its passengers to their various destinations, or the faint smell of the sea on the breeze as she approached her own. And of course, she could remember dreading the inevitable when she returned-- of the daily drudgery of menial labour for a handful of pennies at Juan Camilo's, or even worse, of school (supposing they were even of a mind to bother attending that day). But of course, Alice and Viviana would be awake by then, and probably grousing about Isabel's absence, at that-- and it wouldn't be long before they arrived at Juan Camilo's, laughing and smoking and drinking and thinking of nothing at all that lay a single second or a single inch beyond there and then.

Here and now, Izzie still awoke with a sad, wistful sort of smile-- it had been a long time. Too long. The smell of the salty sea breeze, the sound of the city's quivering heartbeat, the laughter and the squalor of their contentedness... those were things that no longer belonged to her. Of course she missed them-- there wasn't a day that went by that she didn't. But there was no sense in reminiscence, whether it was deliberate recollection or merely the sudden, sharp pang of a sight or a sound or a smell bringing to the forefront a memory that hearkened from a simpler time. Those days would never come again. She had accepted that; it'd been almost thirty years, after all. She wasn't the same person, and... and none of that was the same as it had been then. Never would be.






It was still maybe eight o' clock or so by the time Izzie returned to the hotel-- the lobby had been largely devoid of life when she'd left, host only to a couple newly arrived patrons who looked every bit as exhausted as anybody does when they arrive at a hotel at five thirty in the morning after perhaps hours or days of travel. By now, the morning crowd was out in full force, and the lobby thrummed with the buzz of their voices, interwoven with the clatter of tableware from the cafeteria off to the side. Izzie'd already eaten breakfast, so she was well on her way to walking right on past it, intent perhaps on heading back up to her hotel room and finishing up that book of hers... but a certain Cormac 'Cormy' McMurphy's fortunes would not be so kind upon him. She cast a passing glance into the cafeteria as she passed, and that was, alas, enough to seal his fate.

Cormac, as usual, was oblivious to the events that were about to transpire; at that point, having tracked down Kodie and Craig, he was swallowing down some breakfast, and musing upon what they were to do with their little day off. Of course, the visionary drummer was ill content to think only of the present, and he was also insisting that they 'hit the waves down at Cali' once the tour reached the west coast. He was midway through maligning to his bandmates that he'd never seen the ocean before in his life, when he was very violently jarred from his lamentations by the sound of a chillingly familiar voice by his ear, growling, "Nice shiner, 'lil leprechaun. Mind sharin' the story behind it? I bet it's good."

"I-Izzie!" The drummer scampered up to his feet, damn near covering himself and Craig and Kodie in a splash of broiling hot coffee in his flurry. Meanwhile, Izzie, who appeared to be temporarily restraining whatever homicidal urges Cormac was tempting, calmly sat down at the little table that had hosted him and his two bandmates until her unceremonious arrival, and looked at him with an eyebrow raised expectantly.

"Well, uh-- you see," Cormac began, doing his best to sound moderately embarrassed but entirely sincere. "Turns out last night I had a little more booze than I could handle, and... well, frankly, I dunno how you New Yorkers manage to survive in a city with lampposts this malicious! I mean, I'm tellin' ya, that thing just leapt clean into my path. Totally wasn't my fault."

Izzie's utter lack of expression scared Cormac almost as much as might have an open expression of rage, but when she spoke, it was in a dry monotone. "So... you ran into a pole. That's your story."

Cormac fingered the topmost button of his battle jacket almost a little more anxious than he would have liked. "s'not my story. It's the truth. I mean, just ask Craig, or Kodie--"

"Nah, that'll suffice. I don't need the specifics." Cormac's voice sputtered off into silence as Izzie merely heaved herself back up to her feet. "Put a warm compress on it. That'll get it off your face in no time, and then you can go back to being every bit as repulsive to look at as usual."

"... wha--?" Cormy blustered again.

"A warm compress. Y'know, dip a clothe into warm water, press it against your--"

"No, I mean..." Cormac looked from Izzie over to Craig and Kodie, and then back to Izzie. "That's it? You're just gonna take my word for it?"

"I guess I am. How about that."

Cormac stared at her blankly, and then, convincing himself she didn't really buy the story and had some ploy in stock for him, he began, "I mean, you can even ask those guys in Legion, they all saw it--"

"Cormac, I've been playin' music with you for nearly four years," Izzie interjected gruffly. "I've trusted you enough to keep you behind the kit for my band. I also know sayin' you got two left feet would be a compliment, so if I'm gonna trust anybody who says they got a black eye by runnin' into a pole, it's you. Just try 'n avoid incurring any more brain damage than you've already accrued, eh?" And then, with what was either a hearty pat on the shoulder or an MMA finishing move, Izzie muscled on past Cormy, and left. The drummer looked shell-shocked briefly, like a soldier who'd narrow escaped the maws of certain death, and then he collapsed right into his seat again.

"Goddammit," he grumbled. "I didn't expect I'd be the one who'd come outta this feeling like a dick."






Lestari Kiaidemak awoke much as she did every morning-- namely, with lots of silent groaning, swearing, and ardent vows to disembowel the first living thing that tried to make her get out of bed. Unfortunately, somewhere between 'jesus fucking christ what time is it I'll tell you what time it is it's too goddamn early that's what time it is' and 'ugh fuck off sun you cheeky little shit who invited you to come shining in through my windows like you own the whole damn place', she remembered the events of late last night, and nearly hurtled into the air then and there-- either way, it definitely woke her well the fuck up.

They hadn't gone much further than kissing-- that had been Alex's call, and it was fortunate, because Lestari wasn't sure she would have stopped otherwise. In retrospect, though she'd been a bit unhappy at the abrupt conclusion of the night's pleasures, it had been a good call, and one she herself should have been able to make: if she went too far, if they went too far too quickly, she couldn't be sure Alex wouldn't decide it wasn't worth the risk. They had to take it slowly. Alex was still thinking about it, after all.

... well, okay, they'd done a hell of a lot more than think last night, but... Yeah, I think I'd better avoid dwelling too much on what happened last night. I'm not sure I'll be able to control myself otherwise.

She'd steeled herself against the (actually very significant) possibility of impulsively throwing herself at Alex the second she saw her, but, to Lestari's relief and disappointment, the guitarist wasn't down in the lobby or the cafeteria by the time she descended from her hotel room. She did catch Liam down there, though-- and of course, then and there, restraint proved itself as precious and rare a commodity as ever.

An expression somewhere between giddy anticipation and genuine bliss had overtaken her shapely features as she plopped on down into the chair across from Legion's vocalist, her notebook already in hand and her pencil already scrawling her words into the paper. At the very least, she had the decency to show a little restraint at first, merely offering up, She said she'd think about it. Of course, that lasted about two seconds before her grin widened and she added, But we totally made out. Like, twice.

TMI? What, those guys who make you take your shoes off at airports?

Craig and Kodie had just sat down and began discussing what to do with the day that they had left when Cormac appeared and chimed in after getting some breakfast. Since he wouldn't be Cormac if only stuck to the matter of the day ahead of him, he insisted that they go to the beach when they hit the west coast. Craig had no objections to that, he loved going out to the beach and getting some sun when he had the chance. It had been one of his favorite ways to pass time back when he'd lived in Cali. Kodie on the other hand was grousing about catching fire when she stepped out into the sun because she was probably Nosferatu's daughter. He had to offer her some sympathy there because he was about a hundred percent sure she was going to end up redder than Satan's balls if she was exposed to the sun like that.

Cormy was just telling them about how he'd never seen the ocean before which Craig could scarcely believe, although he supposed he hadn't seen the beach either until a few years ago when he'd moved out to Cali after living in Arizona for years. "Oh man, the beach is great, especially out in Californi...ah." He looked up slowly as a great shadow fell over the drummer. Lo and behold, there stood Izzie Martinez, her face inches from poor Cormac's.

Shit.

"Hey, watch it." Kodie muttered as Cormac leapt to his feet, nearly covering everyone at the table in coffee in his haste to set things straight with Izzie. Craig had to give it to the drummer, he was doing pretty good at bsing her, sufficiently sounding embarrassed to his ears but the blank look upon Izzie's face made him wonder if she bought it or not. It wasn't that far fetched (not that he'd tell Cormac that), the drummer was so clumsy, always running into shit and falling down. He would believe that story, but Izzie was different and he didn't know how concerned she was with this tour. Cormy made sure to mention that she could ask Legion at the matter, during which time Kodie and Craig tried not to stare at the Psychosis vocalist waiting for her verdict. Craig thought the option of asking Legion would help although he silently wondered if Izzie would call blullshit on it or not, bringing Cormac's pride into consideration although she also knew how intimidating she could be which could probably squeeze the truth out of Cormy so he might live another day even if he thought it was embarrassing.

He didn't expect her to accept it so readily though. Neither did Cormac, so it appeared.

As Izzie marched away, Craig stared after her. Well, that was comforting in it's own way. Izzie even gave him advice on how to take care of that black eye. Maybe she does care about us...You know, in her own way. "Wow." He stated, his expression bewildered as he looked back to his bandmates.

"I don't think anyone did." Kodie replied to the drummer, smiling as she took a sip of her coffee. "But hey, at least you didn't get to find out what Brutalised and Skinned Alive feels like."




Liam looked up as Lestari plopped herself into the chair across from him. "Good morning." He said, observing the young drummer's features carefully as he spoke. She looked to be in a good mood, perhaps things had gone well last night? That didn't necessarily mean anything though, Lestari almost always looked to be in a good mood so perhaps he was reading too much into it and dwelling on the matters of her feelings towards Alex but he also thought that she had seemed pretty dead set on telling the guitarist how she felt.

She quickly wrote out a note and held it up for him to observe. Ah, so she had told Alex last night. Good, he always thought it was best to get such things out in the open rather than harboring such feelings. Too bad he wasn't so great at following his own advice. "Oh good." He said, smiling at the drummer who's own grin was beginning to look slightly Cheshire Cat-ish. That was a good sign. "I'm glad things went well then." He told her. He didn't know quite how well things had gone until she scrawled something else down next to it. When she flipped it around for his viewing pleasure, he was pretty sure his brows damn near disappeared up into his hairline as he read Lestari's blatant statement. Well, that was more information than he had been needing. Still, he was unable to help the small laugh that escaped him at how open she was. That was his drummer. Always so honest. Well, that meant that Alex was probably reciprocating though. Thank god, Liam had been worrying about the poor drummer's heart in the case of Alex's rejection. But how would the guitarist really feel when she reflected on last night's events though? She didn't seem the kind to easily open her heart up to others. "Well then, I'm glad you had a good night." He said, smiling as he drank some more coffee. "I have to admit, my own night in comparison was quite dull. She's thinking about it...That doesn't surprise me. But bringing last night into consideration I have to say I think things are looking pretty good for you."

Cormac wasn't the only person baffled by what appeared to be an incredibly uncharacteristic show of benevolence on the part of Psychosis' founder and de facto leader. Even Kodie, who'd known Izzie all of about a couple days now, knew her about well enough to be surprised as well, although in what Cormac was beginning to notice was characteristic of Kodie herself, she certainly kept a cool head about it. He and Craig were less subdued about it-- the latter even uttered a bemused 'wow', his expression completely taken aback as he glanced back to his bandmates.

"So, does this..." Cormac's brow furrowed in vexation as he realised what he was about to propose was so far-fetched that in merely airing it out at all he was running the risk of being chucked into a mental hospital. Nevertheless, he forced himself to complete the contemplation aloud. "Does this mean Izzie trusts me? I mean, does this mean..." He winced, as though anticipating the guitarist would pop back outta nowhere and slug him in the face for daring to entertain such a ludicrous prospect. "... that Izzie likes me?"

He scratched at the smooth, nigh hairless skin of his chin, struggling to make heads or tales of the whole affair. After all, he'd been staffing the drum kit for Izzie's band for... what, a year and a half now? After that much time playing in a band, even if he'd often felt to begin with more like a hired gun than an actual member-- more a tool for Izzie to employ in producing the most complete rendition of her creative vision possible than any sort of real presence in that creative vision-- well, surely anybody woulda come to at least trust him, right? Even Izzie, whom Cormac had never really suspected liked him very much, of whom he'd heard all the horror stories-- run 'Izzie Martinez' through Google (and maybe tack on 'metal musician'; Cormac was pretty sure her name wasn't exactly the most exceptionally uncommon of them) and you'd get all kinds. Fans recallin' how she'd snubbed 'em at a show one time, or bandmates recounting how they'd ejected her from the band after she broke the vocalist's arm, or venue staff telling of a time she'd brought a premature demise to shows after getting just a little too violent with the crowd. This was all shit datin' back to the late eighties-- when the most impressive thing Cormac was doing was learning how to piss standing up.

But that was hardly the case now, was it? I mean about Izzie being superhumanly bellicose, not me learning how to piss standing up. Izzie'd sure as all fuck never been friendly with her bandmates the past couple years, sure, but as far as Cormy was aware-- and he'd seen many of them, bassists and guitarists, come and go in his tenure with Psychosis-- she hadn't actually injured anybody she'd played with in Psychosis. She'd always seemed cordial enough-- if terse and dry-witted as ever-- with fans, and... er, well, anything but benevolent to venue staff, but she hadn't done anything to get her band cut from the bill or anything. Generally speaking, she was distant and about as friendly as a particularly unsociable boulder, but she'd never been openly hostile.

Hell, maybe she'd just changed. Even Izzie Martinez had to reach a certain point where living the exact same way at forty four years old as you had at twenty four wasn't very satisfying.

"But that's enough of those thoughts!" Cormac spontaneously declared, figuring he'd take it upon himself to let everybody around him know he was dispensing of contemplations absolutely none of them had actually been witness to. He vaulted up to his feet and tripped on his chair, which slammed into his half of the table and catapulted his breakfast into the air after him. Long story short, it was a good five minutes in which the most interesting thing in the hotel was a fallen Irishman rolling around on the floor covered in a serving of complementary continental breakfast, and about ten minutes later after darting away briefly to wash away both the breakfast and the shame Cormy returned, no less enthused than before.

"I say we hit up a record store!" he proposed, taking care to guarantee there were no continental breakfasts in the vicinity waiting to ambush him as he made his proclamation.






It was another sleepless night for Alex Rykov.

Just the night before, she'd spent the whole night unable to sleep for anticipation of her daughter-- Helen Rykov-Chen, the person she loved more than anyone or anything else in the world-- coming at long last to one of her shows to see her play the music she, Helen, had grown so enamored with. Had you told her then that she had better get some sleep 'cause the next night she was gonna spend the whole time fretting over the fact that Lestari Kiaidemak had told her that she was in love with her, she woulda earnestly questioned your sanity.

But she hadn't been lying when she'd said she liked Lestari-- when she'd said she wanted to be with her too. And she also hadn't been lying when she'd said the thought was just a little difficult to process considering how her last romantic relationship had gone down, and she also hadn't been lying when she'd said she needed time to think about it. And as for what had come after that... well, suffice to say, her memory was a little hazier, but there was certainly no shortage of meandering hands and lips against skin, enough that Alex had very nearly let herself get carried away in the passion of the moment. But that passion hadn't been a lie either; Alex just knew better than to become enraptured in the pleasure. She didn't wanna selfishly dive into this-- not... not if she couldn't promise, to herself more than anybody else, that she wouldn't hurt Lestari, deliberately or inadvertently.

Ugh-- she pressed a weary palm to her face, and forced herself to pull up into a sitting position and hurl the covers from her body. It was way too early in the morning to be thinking about this kinda shit, especially with no sleep and no breakfast. She trudged out of bed, grabbed a quick cold shower, threw on her boots, her jeans, and the nearest thing vaguely resembling a t-shirt, and emerged from her room still rolling her dreadlocks in her hands. She wasn't sure if she wanted to run into Lestari just yet-- I mean, shit, she couldn't imagine how weird that would be, especially if Liam or Chris happened to be there as well. She wouldn't be able to repress the urge to just bellow "MY TONGUE WAS IN LESTARI'S MOUTH LAST NIGHT", for no reason other than that Liam and Chris weren't supposed to know that. I mean, that's not weird or anything, is it?

Her brow furrowed as she shut the door behind her. Okay, yeah, that was probably a little weird.

"Sounds like it." Craig said to Cormy, smiling and slapping the drummer on the back. He sure hadn't been expecting Izzie's response to that, but he supposed it was a good sign. They weren't going to have to have Legion help them after all and it proved that maybe Izzie actually valued them a little. "Guess you don't have to worry about it too much anymore." He silently wondered if Izzie felt the same way about him as she did Cormy - he always tried to do his best for her and the band and let her know he appreciated his position and wanted to keep it, the continue to prove that he was worthy of playing in Psychosis. He really loved playing in the and liked the people he worked with - you know, despite being occasionally terrified of Izzie. Cormy was usually good fun to be around, even if he did do shit like this sometimes. He was also glad that even though Edei had vanished into thin air, that he'd managed to grab Kodie to fill in for her. She was a good player and even aside from he liked her - she was friendly enough, for a soulless black metal musician and he couldn't think of anyone else he'd prefer to fill in for their maniac of a bassist. Their crazy little bassist...Yeah, Craig still missed her. He wondered if or when she would be back.

Kodie looked up from her coffee and arched a delicate brow at the drummer as he suddenly (and loudly) declared that he was to put an end to 'those thoughts'. While they weren't entirely sure what 'those thoughts' were, Craig assumed that had something to do with Izzie and Izzie potentially giving a shit about him in her own unique way which could be both mind bending and terrifying to comprehend like the presence of a Lovecraftian god. Naturally, Cormy followed this up by tripping over his chair which then smacked into the table and sent everything flying in the process. Both he and Kodie leaped up to avoid the most of the wreck and slowly, the dark haired bassist looked from Cormac to him and then back again as if to say, 'I guess this is why she had no trouble believing his story.'. Craig offered her a slight smile in response. Yep, these were his bandmates. I guess there isn't ever really a dull moment with Cormy around.... The two of them finished their breakfast, during which both of them were silent, Kodie seeming to not even bother asking him if this was normal for the drummer anymore while Cormy went to clean himself up.

When the drummer at last returned, Kodie and Craig had finished their breakfast. It seemed he was no less enthusiastic now than before, which seemed to astound the stand-in bassist based upon her expression as he suggested that they go to a record store. Craig liked the idea, he hadn't gone music shopping in a while as he'd been too busy preparing for the tour. He was about to say he was down when the bassist beat him to it. "Well, I suppose a trip to the record store could be nice." Kodie admitted, nodding slowly.

"Well, I'm down too." Craig chimed in.




Chris had finally dragged himself out of his bed, his hair still sleep tousled. He was still wearing the same clothes from last nice. Ugh. It was bright this morning. His thoughts were slow as molasses, although he was pretty sure he was heading toward the dining area although it felt a little like he was headed into a labyrinth. He must've drank a lot more than he thought last night, since he could scarcely remember coming back to the hotel last night. He really needed to stop making a habit out of this, he thought as he nearly walked right into - Alex? For a change looked almost as bad as he did. Damn, did she even sleep last night? "'lex..." His voice betraying his mental state. Okay, well his entire appearance betrayed his mental state. "Wild night?" He asked, attempting to jest with her even though he could hardly picture the stoic guitarist having a 'wild night'.

And lo, it was decided! In commemoration of the auspicious occasion, Cormy raised a triumphant fist into the air, raised himself up with one foot balanced on some random nearby chair, gazed off toward the horizon with the sort of bold, inimitable daring-- the intrepid explorer's courage if ever there had been such a thing-- unrivaled since Rurik of the Varangians himself had beheld the shores of the land from which he was to carve his domain, the ancient realms destined to someday through both great triumph and unimaginable tragedy become the Russian nation (at least if his understanding of Izzie's drunken history lessons was complete), and declared, "Then let it be so! To the record store!"

Then he had to get his foot down off what he'd evidently assumed was an empty chair and sheepishly apologise to the none too amused hotel goer whose lap had briefly hosted his filthy sneaker. Truly, it wasn't easy being a pioneer.





Fortunately for Cormac, he had one tool at his disposal that the legendary progenitor of the Russian cultural and historical saga could never have even imagined: namely, his phone. Rurik had come from a time when the extent of the available navigation technology was 'fuck it, let's go in this general direction for a little while and hope we don't sail right off the edge of the Earth'; Cormac, on the other hand, could punch in just about any establishment in the civilised world, any address, any point from the very centre of Boston, Mass, to the most remote dunes of the Arizona desert, and he'd have about fifty different routes depending on convenience and ease of access all mapped right out for him.

Unfortunately for Cormac, he was about as well-versed with that technology as Rurik of the Varangians would have been had he been alive now to witness it.

It took the poor lad several minutes to remember how to turn the thing back on; he'd made sure to turn it off the night before, as was his custom whenever he went drinking (you only had to drunk-text your sister thinking that she was an ex-girlfriend from five years ago once before you started makin' damn sure). He then wrestled with it for another ten or so minutes trying to figure out how to access the GPS system, in the process managing to not only snap a photo of his baffled expression but also send it to Izzie, who responded in short order with "Hey fuckface, it already pains me to have to look at your pasty white fuckin' mug in person". Then a few seconds later, she added, "And for fuck sake, the GPS function is on the second fucking page of your phone display. Swipe to the right, jackass."

After that, of course, came the struggle with the GPS function itself. Cormac led his troops with all the boldness and determination of a true captain, blazing the trail to unknown seas, except that these seas were pretty well known and the trail he was blazing was more of a clueless meandering through the city streets. They ended up at a modern art museum, which happened to be doing an exhibition on contemporary Irish artists; Cormac was quick to abscond the premises after somebody took note of his Irish flag back patch, approached him, and attempted to engage him in a conversation in Irish, leaving the poor drummer absolutely flabbergasted. Then he managed to lead them straight into a passing LGBT+ festival, where he thought he caught a glimpse of a really tall, really muscular Colombian guitarist and vocalist just before he realised this was not, indeed, the record store. The final straw came about when the drummer became convinced they could reach their objective by swimming across the East River, and only upon being talked down from this quest did he relent and surrender the captainship to somebody who actually knew how to use a GPS function.

After that, the journey was humiliatingly brief, in that it turned out there had been a record store just around the corner from their hotel. The whole way there, Cormac was grumbling and grousing away under his breath about 'goddamn technology these days' and 'nobody appreciates a true explorer anymore' and 'fuckin' great-grandparents had to move here from Ireland' and 'couldn't wait a couple fuckin' hundred years for me to be born, nope, had to take off right fuckin' then eh' and 'huh didn't expect I'd see Izzie today, at an LGBT+ festival of all places' and 'sometimes I wonder what it would feel like to be a couch'.

He fell silent as they strode on into the record store, and cast a glance about the place. "Where to first?" he mused to his fellow intrepid explorers.






No sooner had Alex finished rolling that last dreadlock than she nearly careened into a face first meeting with a whole lotta Christopher Addams, who appeared strongly as though he had been wandering the halls of the hotel for a thousand years under the weight of an ancient curse. Alex frowned as she stopped just short of running into him, and shoved a hand into the pocket of her jeans to withdraw a pack of bubble gum-- figured she could use at least that paltry stress relief. "Mornin'," she greeted cautiously, unwrapping the piece of gum and tossing it into her mouth to chew it away into a juicy pulp...

"Wild night?"

Alex immediately swallowed the gum, and spent several seconds sputtering and choking before it managed to get down her throat successfully. "W-- wild night? I-- no, I-- Lestari didn't-- did she say any--" she gasped, struggling briefly to produce some semblance of composure and eventually succeeding, her features moulding into a mildly shaken rendition of their usual dispassion. "I just... didn't get a whole lotta sleep," she grunted at last, shrugging her broad shoulders callously. "Cramps can be a motherfucker when you forget your... Well, needless to say, they can be a motherfucker."

Chris didn't exactly look to be at the top of the world at that moment either-- but Alex doubted there was any real secret to that. After all, he'd stayed out drinking last night much longer than she and Lestari had, and though Liam had accompanied him, ostensibly to prevent him from getting to out of hand, he'd clearly met little success in that regard. Whether or not their unlikely Casanova had managed to find himself some company for the night was none of Alex's business, so she certainly wasn't gonna pry after it; she merely added, eager to get back into her usual jive, "Well, you look like the corpse of Lenin on display in the Red Square, so how 'bout we go grab something to eat? I'm pretty sure Liam's already down there, and Lestari..."

She bit her lip just a bit. That could be dealt with when the time came.

The time came unfortunately quickly, as Alex swiftly espied the sprightly young drummer in the dining area engaged in silent but animated conversation with Liam. Well, she couldn't just avoid Lestari forever-- not least of all because the drummer would probably just end up tracking her down and forcing the encounter anyway-- so she set her jaw straight and hard, and traipsed over to where her two bandmates sat. "Howdy," she intoned; Lestari gave a little start and turned her head sharply to face Alex. Oh fuckin' A, the guitarist lamented wryly. We're gonna be playin' the awkward game now, aren't we?

Considering Lestari appeared to be caught between signing 'good morning', waving, and taking another bite of cereal, resulting in what Alex could only have assumed was a magical gesture straight out of one of Chris' fantasy video games... yep. They were gonna be playin' the awkward game.