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Born To Raise Hell

Some shitty place

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a part of Born To Raise Hell, by Iye Khara.

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Iye Khara holds sovereignty over Some shitty place, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

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Some shitty place is a part of Born To Raise Hell.

16 Characters Here

J Lionel Anderson [15] "Step 1: Plug in. Step 2: Kick ass. Step 3: Profit."
Ted Marubini [14] "You again?"
Alex Patterson [12] "Yeah, sure, I'll play with T???wait, who?"

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3 September 2013

Ain't life a kick sometimes.

This was far from Izzie Martinez's first tour. It was far from her first big tour. This here, this moment and place, walking into the hotel that was to be home for the first leg of the tour on the third of September, 2013, was far, far from the first time and place Izzie had gotten up on stage with a band with her guitar clutched uncertainly but closely in her hands, reminding herself helpfully of all the ways she could and probably would fuck it all up.

But this was still a first-- the first time her-- their band, Psychosis, a band that had not existed for longer than some of the people now in it had been alive, was on the bill of a fairly major tour. And sure-- so they weren't exactly the headliner. The majority of the folks coming to see the tour would not be there for Psychosis. A lot of them probably hadn't even heard of Psychosis until they'd seen the logo, almost identical to one Izzie and a certain other person had scribbled and argued over decades ago, on the posters advertising the tour. It probably didn't hurt that the shit was actually fucking legible, of course. I mean, for fuck sake, I like Misericordiam as much as I like the next shitty deathcore band turned decent death metal group, but does that logo even fucking say anything? I'm pretty sure somebody just fuckin' scrawled a bunch of lines in a vague pattern and decided 'fuck it, the first scribble looks kinda like an M' and called it a day.

Wait. Shit. She'd been going somewhere with all this... uh... oh yeah! Psychosis' first major tour. And Izzie was feelin' pretty optimistic. This was the best line up this iteration of Psychosis had ever had, and it'd had many over the scant few years since the very first motley amalgamation of musicians Izzie had brought together under the renewed moniker. She'd had plenty of good musicians since, but none like the ones currently striding into the lobby of the hotel alongside her. Not in a technical sense. Not in a musical sense. Not even in a personal sense: between you 'n me, she liked the three musicians walking alongside her a fair bit more than the lineups that had preceded them, not that it made much of a difference. It was purely about the music. Only ever really about the music. If the time they'd had to spend in the studio with Ted Marubini's dumb fuckin' power metal band had ever tested that reality, Izzie had been sure to eliminate all doubts.

Hmm. Maybe she shoulda fired somebody. That was always a good way of settin' a decidedly professional tone, wasn't it? She totally shoulda fired somebody. Alas-- that time was past. She couldn't really fire somebody in the middle of the tour, could she? Okay, so she technically could. She'd had it proven to her quite a number of times in the past that you could fire somebody in the middle of a tour. Then again, who could she fire? Cormac? No, she liked his jazzy little twist on death metal drumming too much to can him just yet. Craig? She really had no reason to fire him-- he had never really tried to assert himself too strongly in the context of the band, something Edei, for her part, probably coulda benefited from learning from. Then again, she also couldn't fire Edei, because, well... fuckin' Edei. She'd probably track Izzie down and stab her in the eye in her sleep with a used heroin syringe or some shit.

Well, that left Izzie herself, and.... well, for fuck sake, she couldn't exactly fire herself, could she? Wait. Her brow furrowed. She could actually think of a bunch of reasons she oughta fire herself. She'd shown up to gigs and practices drunk in the past, she was too combative for her taste, and, above all, she knew herself personally too damn well for comfort. ... shit. I gotta fire me. How the fuck am I supposed to work with me always up in my grill tryin' to get all personal and whatnot? Man, this is some shit. Why did I even let me in the band? I shoulda known from the very beginning I'd be trouble for me. But if I fire me, I'll probably be a big dick about it-- demand royalties for all Psychosis materiel I performed on 'n whatnot, givin' me a whole lotta shit. Fuckin' typical. Man, fuck me. What an asshat.

And then, with the entirety of her thought process, from reminiscing about her first tour to contemplating firing herself, having occupied about five seconds in total, Izzie Martinez pushed open the doors that led into the lobby of the hotel, leading her intrepid quartet to new horizons. Or some way profound shit like that.

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Liam Mathias made his way toward the lobby of the hotel, dodging around a group of people unloading their car in front of the door - a little too close to the door in his opinion, so close that it was nearly blocking the entrance. From the outside at least, the hotel seemed nice enough although he had learned from experience that looks could be incredibly deceiving and so he decided to not bet on it. He was almost knocked into by a young boy carrying a suitcase nearly as big as he was. He sighed, his train of thought cut off as he carefully stepped around them and then glanced back at his bandmates, realizing he had drawn ahead a little bit and waited at the door for them.

The tour had just kicked off and at the moment, Liam just wanted to get everybody checked into the hotel. This wasn't his first tour - in fact this wasn't even Legion's first tour, but it was going to be a big one and Liam had been anticipating it for a long time and was hoping Jack, Raisa and Alex were looking forward to it as well. Once his bandmates had caught up, he stepped inside and held the door for them, briefly, looking into the lobby and seeing what could only be another part of the tour just ahead of them. "Guess we weren't the first ones here." He told Jack, nodding toward the group and spying among them a...Woman? At least he was pretty sure it was, although she was even taller than he was and bore no real feminine features from what he could tell. A little taken aback, he arched a brow slightly at her and then moved his eyes over and spotted another, this one much more easily recognizable as a girl, considerably shorter and more delicate looking. The other two that were with them were men, one dressed in punk attire and the other, the larger one wearing a black shirt with the sleeves cut off which revealed tattooed, muscular arms.



Craig was glad to finally be at the hotel as he really hadn't wanted to be stuck in that car any longer. He was following alongside Izzie, occasionally casting glances at her, watching her expressions and wondering what she was thinking. She had that weird, deep in thought look on her face that she got sometimes although he thought it probably best not to ask because after all, he wasn't entirely sure he really wanted to know what was going on in Izzie Martinez's head. He decided to stop looking at her before she asked him what the fuck he was looking at and then cast glances at his other bandmates.

8 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Craig Duncan Character Portrait: Liam Mathias Character Portrait: Edei Delanore Character Portrait: Raisa Trelstad Character Portrait: Alex Rykov Character Portrait: Izzie Martinez Character Portrait: Cormac McMurphy Character Portrait: Jack St. Mark
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#, as written by Celedia
Meanwhile, Izzie’s inner monologue was all but unnoticed by a petite raven-haired figure that was busy trying to lug all of her shit in on a single trip. The others had offered to help her but she refused for two reasons. One, it was her own damn dumb fault for packing so much crap and next time she’d probably just leave most of it on the tour bus and two, she wasn’t about to pretend she needed help. God knows that Izzie had that odd gleam in her eye that meant she was looking for something to kill, murder, maim or fire and Edei had lasted this long in Psychosis. She damn well wasn’t going to get fired because she was a weakling that couldn’t haul in three bags.

Casting a look over her shoulder, she wiggled her brows at Craig and Cormy with an excited countenance. She couldn’t hide it
 She was pretty damn pumped for this tour. Unlike Izzie who had probably been on a dozen or so tours, this was Edei’s first and she planned to have fun with it.

When she turned back around to face forward, she almost plowed straight into Izzie’s back as she had come to an inexplicably sudden halt in the center of the lobby.

“Oh hell yeah. Tour manager’s sparing no expense, eh? I was expecting
 What the shit is that chain called? We’ll leave the lights on for you- people?” Edei cast two of her bags down onto the floor of the lobby near one of the cushy leather couches, leaving only her backpack on her short frame for the moment as she took the time to soak in their new digs.




Raisa came strolling in almost elegantly behind Liam. She paused as he paused, her bluish-grey eyes following his line of sight until they landed upon the seemingly ragtag group clustered over to one side of the lobby. One member of the group in particular caught her eye and a grin spread over her lips as she reached back to tap Liam in the chest and point over to the same group that had caught his eye.

”Well if it isn’t Izzie-fucking-Martinez!” Raisa called out so that her voice carried through the sparsely filled room and a peal of laughter followed her through the lobby as she moved towards the other band. “Jesus Christ, I haven’t seen you in years. I didn’t know this was your band. If I knew I would’ve warned my ‘mates.” She came to a stop next to Izzie, one of the few people that could make the 5’10” redhead feel diminutive and her gaze flashed over the other three members in the band as she smiled.

“Nice to meet you all!” She lifted a hand, waving over her own bandmates so she could start introductions. Well, as far as she knew them anyway. Izzie would have to introduce her own fucking band unless they wanted to be known by nonsensical nicknames which Raisa tended to give to people she didn’t know.

“This is Liam, Jack, and Alex.” She pointed to them one by one, her steel-grey painted nails shimmering in the fluorescent lighting and then she pointed to herself last. “I’m Raisa.”

Turning her lithe body towards the rest of her group, she pointed to Izzie and introduced her as well. “This is Izzie Martinez. Remember, I told you about her? Fucking amazin’ growler. Crazy shit.”

Then, the impossible happened. Raisa stayed quiet for more than a second and finally allowed other people to chime in.

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If there was one thing Cormac McMurphy was looking forward to, it was collapsing into one of those incredibly comfortable hotel queen-size beds and getting a few precious hours of blissful, deep slumber.

Okay, so maybe that wasn't exactly the only thing he shoulda been lookin' forward to. After all, this was his first ever tour with a metal band, and he suspected the whole affair would differ quite a hell of a lot from touring with a punk band. Then again, to begin with Napalm Terror had never exactly toured-- they'd just gigged at various known squats in the region, or played a show in somebody's garage with a couple other small-time hardcore or crust bands. At each show, thirty attendees would have been a miracle to see-- any more than forty sweaty, pissed off punks beating the shit outta each other whilst the band played just a few feet away would have been nothing short of the shock of a lifetime. Cormy suspected somehow the crowd that this tour would be drawing would be just a little larger than that-- not that that made him anxious. Nope. No way. He had this shit. Just 'cause there were gonna be hundreds of people hearing him play didn't mean he had any reason to be nervous about it.

Come to think about it, why do I always end up with queen size beds at hotels? They do that for everybody, right? They don't just go all 'this dude looks like a queen, give him the queen size bed', do they? ... No, really, do they?

Oh, the quandaries of an Irish crust punk.




The quandaries of a rich musical virtuoso turned death metal bassist with glorious facial hair, as it turned out, were not quite as distressing a dilemma.

Jack St. Mark was not exactly a fan of the gym-- he figured Alex filled the band's 'could bench press the entire band' quota as well as the band's 'outrageously metal in appearance' quota. But seeing the way she relaxedly toted along her baggage like it was nothing, a stony expression on her face with no external signs of fatigue whatsoever, he was starting to think maybe, just maybe, it woulda been a good idea to occasionally pick up something heavy just for the fuck of it. Sure, he always made fun of the type'a folks who religiously attended the gym like if they missed a day they'd wilt into nothing ('hey guys watch me pick up the heavy thing and then put it down repeatedly!'), but there came a time in the life of the gigging musician where the faint hint of musculature gleaned from years of lugging around equipment was just not sufficient.

Jack finally managed to catch up with their intrepid leader, and he nodded gratefully as Liam held the door for him and Raisa and Alex, not far behind. As the four got their bearings together and stepped into the hotel, Liam, as always infinitely more aware of his surroundings than the bassist, pointed out, "Guess we weren't the first ones here."

"That so?" Jack mused curiously, setting down his assorted paraphernalia and turning in the direction Liam was looking to. Lo and behold, a metal band-- no doubt about that. If the equipment hadn't been there to seal the deal, the attire certainly would have implied this. Their backs were turned to Legion, so it was hard to really get a gauge of the lot of them-- in the middle was some fucking massive dude in a leather jacket (Alex's soul mate? Guy was certainly both well built and metal-looking enough), and around him was a significantly shorter dude who looked no less metal and no less brawny (Jesus, scratch that, this was Alex's fucking dream band right here); another significantly shorter dude who looked no less metal but sure as hell looked a lot less brawny; and an absolutely gorgeous woman who was neither particularly tall nor altogether burly by the looks of her.

What a motley bunch.

"They're Psychosis." Alex's quiet, unassuming voice interrupted Jack's sagely observations, and the bassist raised an eyebrow. "Dare I ask how you have ascertained this information, O Lord of Fevers?" he retorted smugly, eliciting the vaguest hint of a smile from the guitarist. "I made a point of giving all the bands we're touring with a listen, O humblest of servants," she replied, amusement evident in her green eyes. "Perhaps you should try that next time we tour with other bands."

"Ha!" Jack gave an exaggerated bark of laughter, as though Alex had made an incredibly funny joke. "Come now, let's be serious here. We Legionnaires have no time for the put-put of our inferior peers, have we?" Changing gears, he nodded at the group, and added, "Seriously though, y'see that man in the middle? And I thought Peter Steele was metal's resident ogre."

"Not a man," was Alex's cryptic reply. And leaving Jack standing there baffled, she followed after Liam.




"Oh hell yeah." Edei had shed herself of all baggage except for her backpack, and stood there simply basking in the glory of the hotel (which admittedly was pretty impressive to Izzie, but only in the sense that it woulda been impressive to anybody who had yet to live in quarters that didn't harbour at least five different species of cockroach). "Tour manager’s sparing no expense, eh? I was expecting
 What the shit is that chain called? We'll leave the lights on for you- people?"

Izzie stared blankly. "Is that some kinda hotel lingo or some shit?"

If it was, alas, Izzie was to remain blissfully ignorant, as no sooner had the words left her lips than a very familiar voice met her ears.

"Well, if it isn't Izzie-fucking-Martinez!"

A grin immediately split the hard contours of Izzie's face as she turned to the source of the words. Lo and behold, there, laughing and lookin' as ever like somebody had dipped her in a huge vat of rainbow sorbet, was the all too recognisable figure of one Raisa Trelstad-- kinda hard to mistake her, what with the whole 'hair the colour of fucking ketchup' thing. "And if it ain't Raisa fuckin' Trelstad," she retorted dryly as she turned to face her old bandmate.

"Jesus Christ, I haven't seen you in years," Raisa remarked as she came to a stop before Izzie, who smiled wryly. "Yeah, and damn, have you grown. Last time I saw ya you musta been-- what-- barely outta your teens? And now look at ya. Kickin' it with a big-time band like Legion. And still with the fuckin' eyesore hair. Goddamn."

Of course, Raisa could not let the rest of Psychosis go spared of her... uh, let's say enthusiasms. "Nice to meet you all!" she directed at the remaining three. And then she gestured back over to a trio Izzie recognised as the other constituents of Legion, who approached at the beck of their drummer, who immediately began introductions. "This is Liam--" she gestured over to a tall, lanky dude with the proud hair of a true headbanger. "-- Jack-- " she gestured over to a beardy fucker. "-- and Alex." And last of all, she pointed at what looked to be perhaps the most unabashedly metal looking person Izzie had ever seen, who greeted Psychosis with an unexpectedly subdued nod of the head. And then, of course, she pointed at herself. "I'm Raisa." She turned back towards the rest of her band, and took it upon herself to introduce Izzie to them as well. "This is Izzie Martinez. Remember, I told you about her? Fucking amazin' growler. Crazy shit."

"Oh, stop it, you, I'm blushing," Izzie retorted gruffly with an amused smirk. "Well, if it's introductions we're doin'..." She cast a quick glance back at her band, eyebrow raised vaguely, and then turned back to Raisa before whittling off, "The diminutive Irishman's Cormy--" "Oi!" "-- shut the fuck up Cormy. Captain America's Craig-- I actually have no clue what a Captain America is, but the aforementioned diminutive Irishman informs me that Craig seems reminiscent of it. An' the pretty lady's Edei. She might stab you in the throat with a menorah. You two'd get along, I reckon."

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Craig watched Edei carry her assortment of bags, still tempted to help her although she'd declined earlier. He only had one bag and saw no reason why he couldn't carry at least one of her's although he was still baffled as to how one person as tiny as Edei could possibly need that much stuff. His lips quirked up into a smile when she looked back at him, knowing good and well she was eager for this tour - and he had to admit, he was too. He'd never truly toured - played a lot of gigs, yeah, but never toured. "You sure you still don't want any help?" He asked her, just as she was about to crash into Izzie who had come to a sudden halt, Edei however managing to avoid a collision, instead casting off her bags and making her way over to the soft looking leather chairs. "No idea, but the hole in the wall places can be pretty sketchy sometimes. I've found some weird shit in those places." He told her, chuckling a little in memory of some of the things he'd come across while travelling.

"Well if it isn't Izzie-Fucking-Martinez!" Craig turned around to find the source of the female voice calling out his lead singer's name, his brows raised when they settled on a woman with bright red hair who was striding toward them. He'd never had any of them be recognized before and this person sounded...Friendly. Like they met her before, which was strange because he always pictured the scenario in which Izzie Martinez was recognized as not having a good outcome. Craig also had never recalled Izzie talking about her friends, but then again Craig didn't really ask.

Indeed, it seemed they had met before, Craig thought as he watched the redhead talk to Izzie as though they were old friends. He struggled to hide his surprise and raised his hand in a sort of silent greeting as he watched Izzie and the redhead speak, wondering if he should go join Edei in the chairs.



Liam bobbed his head in a nod, looking back at his bandmates to make sure Alex and Raisa were both with them. When he saw they were both there he turned his attention back the second group of musicians, silently wondering who they were and trying to recall the list of other bands they would be touring with when suddenly Alex piped up, saying the band in front of them was Psychosis. Ah, so that's them. Well, that would make sense. He thought, recalling the few songs he'd heard from the technical death metal band as well as the photo of the lineup, which would certainly explain the hulking female standing at the center of the crowd. "It wouldn't kill you do a little research, Jack." He told the bassist who had just got done laughing at Alex's suggestion with a shrug.

He then began to proceed toward the desk, unable to help but chuckle quietly to himself when Alex informed Jack that the 'ogre' standing in the middle of Psychosis was no man. "Somehow, that didn't surprise me." He told Alex, glancing back at his quiet guitarist. What he didn't expect, however was what happened next. Raisa came tapping on his chest which made him look down and cock his head slightly before she was suddenly gone and making her way over to the brutish looking Psychosis singer, greeting her loudly and then proceeded to start chatting them up. They knew each other? He thought, puzzled and looking at Alex, wondering if she had any knowledge of this before slowly beginning after the drummer who was now making introductions. He nodded once to the Psychosis group as a sign of acknowledgement and a sort of greeting. Now that he got a better look at the members of the band, he could easily recognize them as Psychosis. "Now that you mention it, I do believe I recall you saying something about that." He told Raisa, with a small smile and then looking over to Izzie. "I've heard some of your work and Raisa is right, your range is fantastic." He informed her, attempting polite conversation.



Craig, for his part had mostly been hanging in the back during introductions and smirking a little when he was called the Captain America of the group until he caught sight of someone who looked familiar. Then the redhead introduced them as Jack and he realized who this must be. "Jack St. Mark?" He asked the seemingly still dumbfounded bassist. He had met Jack a few years ago and the two of them had ended up getting along quite well since they were quite possibly the most sane out of their bandmates.

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#, as written by Celedia
Obviously not impressed by the fact that people were approaching them (or perhaps she was tired from the multi-hour ride in a tour bus) Edei collapsed onto the couch closest to her. Like a dog that can’t find a comfortable position, she ended up shifting three or four times during the introductions before Izzie brought her up and by then she had her back half-draped over the arm of the sofa. She had been trying to crack her back, dammit.

“Awww, you think I’m pretty!” Edei teased Izzie, leaning up enough to blow their intrepid leader a kiss before flopping back over the arm of the couch and it was there she stayed until otherwise needed. She should probably go find some sort of bellhop or something to help with her bags. Nooo
 Nevermind. Then Craig would get that look on his face like ”WTF? I asked you like eighteen times if you needed help and you said no?” Maybe she would find out what floor they were on and then finally give in to assistance.




Raisa, on the other hand, seemed willing to intrude upon everyone’s personal space and considering she had somehow become friends with Izzie, that left most people to wonder how she hadn’t died a violent death yet. Upon introductions she waved to Cormy and then stepped creepily close to Craig to examine him and his resemblance to Captain America. Apparently, she didn’t agree with the Irishman’s diagnosis because she gave a quick shake of her head.

“Not wholesome enough.” She muttered, then grinned, then patted Craig upon his shoulder. “Sorry if that offends. You just don’t have that 50’s take the lady to a sock hop kind of look about you.”

Casting a look back over her shoulder at her own band, she grinned again and shrugged. “But then again, neither do any of my ‘mates. I don’t think this lifestyle is conducive to wholesomeness.”

Suddenly, her mind switched gears and she turned around pointing an accusing finger towards Liam and Jack, poking them both in the chest as she came back towards her own group. “Speaking of which, I swear to god if we have any hookers coming into our dressing room this time around I will cut off your hair,” she pointed towards Liam again and his Pantene Pro-V style mane. “
.And shave off your beard.” Another jab towards Jack and his beard of awesomeness. “I know it’s where you two get your mystical powers and I am willing to take the chance to prevent my dressing room from getting the herp.”

A slight flail, a minor windmilling of her arms and she turned her attention back to Psychosis.

“We should go check in so we get our rooms! Izzie, come with!” She reached out, grabbing and tugging Izzie’s hand like a toddler but then letting go almost immediately. Raisa apparently knew Izzie and her abhorrence for touching but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t touch her at all. Just not for prolonged periods of time or when she looked angry or when she was eating.

With her one-sided monologue delivered, Raisa moved towards the check in desk. Slipping her sunglasses down onto her nose again, she held her head high and leaned one arm against the counter, leaning her weight against it as she cast a look around the lobby and sniffed.

“I guess this will do
 Our agent tends to know the secret hot spots in the area.” Turning towards the poor man standing at his computer, she leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. “And you know, you might want to up your security. Once they find out we’re here
.” Her words trailed off as she indicated the other seven people with her thumb and then she sighed somewhat dramatically. “Well. Let’s just say that I don’t want to have to use secret elevators and the kitchen to get out of here without getting mobbed.”




Edei, for her part, was mildly confused at the never ending chatter and she looked a bit stunned as she pulled herself back up into a sitting position. Arching a brow at Cormy, she asked, “Is she on drugs? Must be some really good shit because holy hell.”

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And lo and behold, from that point on, any semblance of peace and quiet was destined to be a pipe dream.

Now, Alex Rykov did not consider herself necessarily the type to flip a shit over anything more obtrusive than the sound of a cricket breathing-- how could she be? She played the kinda music that simply could not be played or listened to at anything short of ear shattering volumes. But at the very least, she was privy to certain facts of life that were more set in stone than the very basic building blocks of reality. Jack St. Mark is never to be seen without some growth of facial hair. Liam Mathias will never be seen wearing any article of clothing brighter than the darkest pits of the underworld. And Raisa Trelstad makes a lot of noise.

The very second it came to light that Raisa was familiar with one of the members of Psychosis-- hell, the very second it turned out that band was already present-- Alex knew 'peace and quiet' was about to become a scarce resource. Well, she was accustomed to it-- so long as the hubbub's got nothing to do with me, that is. As long as the focus was off her, it was all pretty straightforward. Go with the flow. Keep a cool head. Don't surpass one or two drinks in public no matter what the circumstances. And under no circumstances let Raisa near any stimulants. Probably that last one above all, really. And on the whole, keep her distance.

For that reason, Alex kept her silence throughout the ensuing conversation and offered no engagement to any of the constituents of Psychosis, which really wasn't unusual behaviour. For her to have spoken up without provocation, without necessity, would have been exactly as unusual as Raisa failing to share her thoughts with the world for more than a few seconds. Really, she just wanted to go to her hotel room and sleep-- which was just a stone's throw from the truth of it, which was that she really just wanted this tour to be over with. There were many musicians who simply lived to tour-- lived to be on the road, joyously uprooted from every setting they settled into for more than a day. Alex was not one of them. Touring just meant time away from Helen and the certainty of home in favour of spending weeks on end trundling from place to place in a stuffy tour bus.

But maybe it was worth it simply to step on stage and let Alex Rykov go away for a while, with all her neuroses and loneliness, go back to where she'd come from.







The thoughts occupying the skull of one Cormac 'Cormy' McMurphy were not quite so wistful.

The idea that anybody could possibly be on good terms with Izzie was baffling to the drummer. In all his time playing with her (which was all of about like two years now), she seemed hard-pressed to look upon anybody with anything more emotive than general indifference. Then again, what did he know, really? He just sorta hit shit the way he was told and didn't try to ask too many questions of his band mates. With Craig, it was more or less simply a matter of courtesy. With Edei, it was admittedly the fear that he'd come off a little queer if he started asking random questions about herself or some shit. With Izzie... well, much though he often would have liked, against all reason and logic, to spend more time with their mysterious Glorious Leader, perhaps even-- dare he venture so cliche a phrase?-- get to know her, he really just knew better than to try. He respected her and enjoyed her company on those rare occasions that she offered it, but she was the sort of person who preferred to keep her professional and her private affairs distinctly separate. So in all honesty, now that he thought about it, if Izzie did have friends-- current friends, not people she hadn't seen in ages, as seemed to be the case here-- who was he to be surprised? For all he knew she had a roaring social life. For all he knew she was actually a saint in personality and the whole 'alcoholic bruiser' thing was an act she put on for the band. He wouldn't've known better.

But there was no time for such confusing sentiments-- not when even more confusing things were going on all around him. The flurry of things going on around him was quite overwhelming to the poor lad, who was pretty much clueless-- so apparently the woman with the flashy hair knew Izzie? And the beardy dude knew Craig? And this band was Legion, whom Cormac had heard of before but had never had the chance to partake of due in large part to immense laziness on his part?

Edei seemed every bit as baffled as he was. She had dragged herself back up to a sitting position on the couch she'd collapsed into moments before, and simply gawked about as the scene unfurled before directing her perplexed gaze Cormy's way. "Is she on drugs?" she ventured to the drummer, almost certainly in reference to the schizo with the weird hair. "Must be some really good shit, because holy hell."

"No way." Cormy shook his head wearily. "I've seen plenty of druggies in my squatting days. That right there is legitimate mental issues." And he added, with a slight smile, "Then again, she seems to get along with Izzie, so was that ever really in doubt?"







Had Izzie caught Cormac's little underhanded remark, she probably woulda reserved a sharp-edged retort for him, but at that moment, she was far too occupied with trying to keep up with the completely random thought processes of Raisa Trelstad, a pursuit which required the whole of one's attention. And frankly, even that generally proved insufficient.

One second, she'd decided Craig was not, indeed, Captain America, which Izzie found peculiar, because to the extent of her knowledge, Craig was full, one hundred per cent, going-back-generations white American, so really, what else could he be captain of? The next second, she'd turned back to her band, started talkin' some shit about hookers or whatever, and then threatened to lop off the bassist's beard, the very prospect of which seemed to horrify the man into immediate submission. And then the next thing she knew, Raisa had suddenly decided, "We should go check in so we get our rooms! Izzie, come with!" and then took to tryin' to drag the hulking Colombian guitarist along with her.

"Alright, alright, fuckin'..." Words disintegrating into a stream of grumbling in a motley amalgamation of English and Spanish, Izzie set her shit down and followed Raisa over to the check in desk, where the vivacious young drummer was now muttering something under her breath to the poor fucker at the front desk. Izzie's money was on Raisa threatening to amputate the guy's face with her bare hands, but then, you could never really be sure. Maybe she was changin' things up and threatening to strangle him with his small intestine. Izzie personally preferred the large intestine when it came to instruments of strangulation, but that was a whole 'nother argument she and Raisa had never quite settled.

"Am I supposed to be surprised that you haven't remotely changed?" the guitarist mused to Raisa as she approached the check in desk and gave the requisite information to the check in dude or whatever, a process which ended with Izzie being handed four queer little card things, which she gawked at for a moment before the exasperated check in dude or whatever informed her they were the keys to each allotted room, which only seemed to irritate Izzie for some reason, as she began muttering something about the 'government or whatever, goddammit I pay taxes 'n shit, I have a right to a normal fuckin' key thing'.






Jack was still recovering from the absolutely traumatising thought of himself devoid of facial hair-- which admittedly was a pretty disturbing thought. Woulda been kinda like a shaved gorilla. Er, well, more like a shaved chimpanzee, in his case. Either way, he was spending every night of the tour with a loaded shotgun, just in case Raisa snuck into his room with a machete to chop away his glorious mane of man-beard, thus stripping him of his powers and reducing him to a weak, paltry husk.

Or, more likely, he'd cry in his room, refuse to come out to play their show, get fired, wait about a week, and regrow his beard. But hell, what was the fun in any of that shit?

Well, it was certainly a horrific thought, but eventually Jack managed to snap out of it, just as Captain America piped up for the first time-- and with Jack's own name, as it were. "Jack St. Mark?" the guy ventured, and Jack turned to him inquisitively. The voice was awfully familiar, and it only took hearing it again before he could finally place the nagging sensation of recognition that'd dogged him since he'd seen the dude.

"Craig?" the bassist remarked incredulously, taking a step back theatrically as though he'd just been told his beard was singularly responsible for maintaining the fabric of the universe itself (which he liked to think was true anyway). "My god, man!" he exclaimed. "It can't be! Where's your hair gone?! Alex!" The distant guitarist gave something of a start, and turned an inquisitive green eye towards her band mate, who seemed so distressed it was as though the very concept of Craig without his hair challenged Jack's basis for reality. "Look at this travesty! My boy Craig-- once a proud metalhead with a mane of hair that would put to shame even your own-- now sports a chrome dome such as would horrify even Julian Truchan! I just-- I can't even--"

The vaguest hint of a smirk touched upon Alex's lips-- a cunning expression as she began to speak in an accent easily as thick as Izzie's. "Jack, do I need to show you that picture of you in the--"

"No!" The bassist gawked at her in horror, and he took a step back, as though terrified of her very form. "No no no no no, not the picture of me in the--"

"Here, lemme just get my phone..."

"Such cruelty, Alex!" Jack bemoaned, pressing a hand to his face in melodramatic anguish, before turning back to Craig. "She's quiet, but absolutely evil, I tell you. I hear the devil once tried to sell his soul to her, but she just laughed at him and told him she had no need of such a pathetic little thing."

"Whoever told that was lyin'," Alex remarked with a shrug, before adding slyly, "I didn't laugh. Laughing requires one to have a heart where I have only a deep, dark, black pit."

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Craig arched a brow at Raisa when she stepped closer to him, examining him - or at least that's what it felt like she was doing to him as she invaded his personal space. Then she concluded that he wasn't 'wholesome enough' to be Captain America, which just made him shrug. To be honest, he didn't care about the title that much to be upset about losing it - and besides, he didn't think he really wanted to look 'wholesome' anyways. Wasn't that usually used to describe ugly people? No, wait. That was homely, right? "Oh, well. I guess it had to come out sooner or later." He said, with a dramatic sigh, his lips quirking into a smirk. "I'm Iron Man." He told her with a wink and then shortly after the redhaired girl spun around and started threatening her bandmates with the removal of their hair - facial and non. Well, alright then... He thought, glancing at Edei who was lounging on the couch.



Liam, who had been keeping quiet and silently observing Psychosis who all seemed equally (aside from Izzie, who had already encountered her before) taken aback by Raisa. Not that he blamed them, he had reacted in a similar way when he had first met her. That was when Raisa wheeled around and poked both him and Jack in the chest and very seriously informed them that if she found any hookers in the dressing room, in which case the dressing room could get the 'herp', she would be removing his hair as well as Jack's beard. Stunned into silence for a moment, he just stared at her. "I must say, I am astonished at your coldness, Raisa. You care not for the fact that Jack and I could get the 'herp' from prostitutes but only for the fact your dressing room could be contaminated." He told her, once he regained his composure, crossing his arms and shaking his head with a small smile.

And then, just like that Raisa abandoned the subject and concluded that they had best go get their rooms, grabbing Izzie Martinez's hand briefly before heading off to the counter. Liam was a little taken aback by the fact the woman actually looked like she was about to hit the redhaired girl for a minute, but she stopped herself and then awkwardly followed after the drummer, leaving him watching her with a curious look upon his face. Well, if that didn't say they had issues, he didn't know what did. Shaking his head, he looked back over at Jack who still looked traumatized by the mere thought of being devoid of facial hair. It was like Raisa had just threatened to remove his manhood.



Craig chuckled at Jack's theatrics and nodded. Yeah, that was definitely Jack St. Mark. "I know, man. I cut it awhile ago. Probably one of the most terrifying experiences I've ever had, but it's starting to grow out again though." He said, thinking that the short, almost military sort of cut thing wasn't really for him - or at least not this short. He looked to the guitarist who he almost didn't notice, she was so quiet, but now she was beginning to threaten Jack with a picture of...What, he didn't know but it must be something good because the bassist was quickly protesting. She too, had a thick accent like Izzie's although this one sounded...Russian, maybe?

"Do I even want to know what that picture is?" He asked Alex, curiously.

He then looked back to Jack, who was informing him that the woman was so evil she put the devil to shame. "Remind me not to anger her, then." He told him, with a laugh.


Liam, who didn't feel standing there awkwardly while Craig and Jack caught up, moved over toward the two Psychosis members since Raisa was already taking care of the rooms. The two Psychosis members wee named Cormac and Edei if he remembered correctly. "Well, I don't blame you for inquiring if Raisa's on drugs because I reacted in a similar fashion the first time I met her." He said, shrugging lightly with a smile. "But you get used to it...For the most part." He told them.

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#, as written by Celedia
Edei simply continued to stare in wide-eyed awe at the interaction between the brightly colored gal and the rest of the room. A quick grin flashed over her lips as Cormy responded and she had to laugh at his words. “Izzie hasn’t killed her yet either, which is weird. I don’t know how to take that. The only reason I haven’t been murdered yet is because I am pretty sure that my unpredictability keeps Izzie on edge. But fuck if I can beat that kind of unpredictability.” She lifted a hand, motioning for Raisa once more. “Shit. If Izzie gets used to that kind of crazy I should start looking for a new band. I won’t be half as scary to her anymore.”

The long-haired dude that had been introduced as Liam made his way over to their little corner of the lobby and Edei gave a wave upon his approach. “You get used to that?! Grawr.” Edei clutched her heart and dramatically went tumbling back into a laying position upon the couch once more. “You poor thing. You can come hang out with the few of us that aren’t bat shit crazy anytime you wish.”




Raisa cast Izzie a look as the Psychosis singer bemoaned her keylessness. “They’re keycards. You’ve never used one before?! Haven’t you ever stayed in a hotel before? Shit, Iz.” The drummer snickered and took her own pile of key cards, flipping through them as she circled Izzie to stare at the map of the hotel that was posted by the front desk so she could choose the room closest to the end of the group. One time she had been stuck in a room in the middle of Alex and Liam and her constant chattering on Skype with friends had driven them to the breaking point. They had almost exiled her to another floor before she had promised to use her inside voice.

“It’s to prevent theft. Though I assume you have as much shit worthy of stealing as you did back when I first met you.” Flashing another grin at Izzie, Raisa shifted the cards in her hand once more like she was shuffling a deck for poker and that inevitably brought a new topic to mind.

“Hey! When we all get settled in, we should play a game of cards! Poker, blackjack, what have you. Fuck if I know what everyone knows how to play but I am a goddamn poker champion. Just not that Texas Hold ‘Em crap. Takes too long. Five card stud now that’s where it’s at.” She tugged Izzie’s wrist again, dashing away from her just in case the singer had another convulsive fit of violence and tried to slam her head into the nearest wall and she wandered back towards the two bands. Situating herself between Jack and Alex she plucked a keycard from her pile and handed one to each of them before wandering off to Liam and presenting him with the last.

“I am going to check out my room! Maybe we got balconies this time! We could parkour that shit and jump from room to room. They put us all together again! 708 through 711!”




“Sooo
.” Edei tried her best not to hide behind Cormy as Raisa approached them and instead she turned her questions towards Liam. “Not your first tour, I take it?”

Just as quickly as she appeared Raisa traipsed away, heading in the general direction of the elevators and Edei momentarily pondered staying in the lobby for a bit.

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Edei gave a chuckle. "Izzie hasn't killed her yet either, which is weird. I don’t know how to take that. The only reason I haven’t been murdered yet is because I am pretty sure that my unpredictability keeps Izzie on edge. But fuck if I can beat that kind of unpredictability." She gestured over towards the lunatic with the crazy hair. "Shit. If Izzie gets used to that kind of crazy I should start looking for a new band. I won’t be half as scary to her anymore."

Cormac waved her concerns away with a hand. "Nonsense," he assured her comfortingly. "You're way scarier than her. Like, fucking terrifying. Simply horrifying. Veritably chilling. Absolutely blood-curdling. Positively ghastly. All but hair-raising. And anyway, I don't think Izzie fires people on a basis of how intimidated she is by them..." He trailed off briefly, and then his brow furrowed as he realised, "Though on second thought that would explain why I've managed to stick around so long. When I put it that way, it's an even less appealing way of thinking about it."

He had little time to reflect upon this latest reason to feel completely emasculated, for shortly thereafter the dude with the long-ass hair-- Liam, innit-- approached their little nook. "Well, I don't blame you for inquiring if Raisa's on drugs," the guy said by way of greeting with a shrug of his shoulders. "I reacted in a similar fashion the first time I met her. But you get used to it... for the most part."

"You get used to that?" Edei exclaimed in bafflement, clutching at her heart in horror and making possibly the strangest sound Cormac had heard since Izzie had laid down vocals for the new album. "You poor thing. You can come hang out with the few of us that aren't bat shit crazy any time you wish."

"Which 'few of us'?" Cormy retorted with a smirk. "You're about as psychotic as Izzie on a good day. Hell, I didn't realise it was an unspoken law that all metal bands have to have at least two certified mental hospital escapees."





Meanwhile, elsewhere, Izzie was not having any of this fucking 'key card' bullshit.

"In every hotel I've stayed at," the guitarist declared wearily, much like an ancient elder passing down the wisdom of their many years to the younger generations. "They didn't fuck around with none'a this key card shit. We got a motherfucking key, and we fucking used that shit. And y'know what? We did just fine. Y'know why they're using this key card shit now? 'cause now your shit is subject to computer surveillance, so they can see where you're goin' 'n shit. It's like 1984, but with hotels instead of oppressive governments. And anyway, ain't secure worth a shit either. Y'know you can copy the bar code on these things with a photocopier and just open up the lock like ya had the card itself? So really, if you wanna steal the like three dollars I have at any one time, you just gotta take this card, photocopy it, and take my three fuckin' dollars. Go 'n buy yourself a fuckin' candy bar or some shit to celebrate your newfound affluence, I dunno. Then again, if you've got the card, why even bother photocopying it? You could just use it or some shit. Unless it's Baron Harkonnen stealing my card just like 'nay, I must devise some many-layered, nefarious plot to steal three dollars from some alcoholic guitarist who's had probably seventeen dollars across the entirety of her life'. But then we're getting into a whole 'nother legion of issues. I mean, how is Baron Harkonnen even gonna fit through my door without somebody seein'? I guess it doesn't really help matters that he doesn't exist, now that I think about it."

Not surprisingly, by the time Izzie tuned back into reality, Raisa was light years away from the subject of hotel security, having now spontaneously decided they were all gonna play some kinda card game. Well, Izzie'd be screwed in that case, as Texas Hold 'Em, poker, blackjack, go fish, Yu-Gi-Oh-- all those were pretty much the same in her eyes. Well, she wasn't no fuckin' gambler, goddammit. She had better shit to learn about. For example, did you know the tyrannosaurus rex displayed extremely limited sexual dimorphism, and only one single specimen of the species has been actually identified as male or female? See, that was the kinda shit ya had to know. Not how to 'lay down a full house' or 'flush the royal down the toilet' or whatever it was.

Having decided the game to play was some 'five card stud' or whatever, Raisa tugged again at Izzie's wrist, provoking an exasperated "Are you tryin' to get hospitalised?" from the guitarist before she danced away nimbly like some sort of tormenting nymph. Torn between a scowl and a smirk, Izzie turned her attentions away from her old band mate, and to her current ones.

"Hey. Jackasses." Izzie walked back over to her fellow bandmates, holding up the key cards. "Here." That word was her only warning before she promptly flung each card to its respective musician as though she were a ninja hurling shuriken (Cormy took his between the eyes and hit the floor like a sack of Irish potatoes). "They put you all together in a row and then stuck me in the floor above, so I guess we ain't gonna be havin' no slumber parties or whatever. How regrettable. Means now you two get to worry about Edei shankin' ya in your sleep with a letter opener." ("See?" Cormac remarked to Edei as he pulled himself up from the floor, key card clutched in his hand. "Fucking terrifying.") "For my part, I'm gonna go and put my shit away. Raisa over there wants to play some card type shit or whatever, so y'all can unleash the inner gambler in you. But me, I'm gonna go sleep."






Craig informed Jack that he'd, in fact, cut it quite a while ago, describing the experience as terrifying. "You're telling me!" Jack replied. "I'm still in shock." But of course, nobody would let the whole picture thing go-- turning to Legion's absolutely heartless guitarist, Craig remarked with a smile, "Do I even want to know what that picture is?"

Jack turned pleading eyes toward Alex, but the hint of a smile tinging her lips did not falter as she spoke softly but definitively. "All I can say is, he was real drunk, and somebody left lingerie backstage." Jack thought he noticed the vaguest widening of the embryonic smile playing at her mouth, before she added, "Santa-themed lingerie."

"And by god I was the prettiest damn Santa you ever saw," Jack retorted defensively.

"You managed to make Raisa shut up for a minute," Alex deadpanned. "That's how horrifying it was."

The bassist scowled theatrically, and shook his head. "Nobody appreciates a pretty guy in lovely clothes," he deplored. Had a certain Irish drummer with a penchant for getting drunk and then donning any dresses in the vicinity heard the Legionnaire's lamentations, he would perhaps have chimed in sympathetically, but alas, he was at that moment preoccupied with assuring Psychosis' own bassist of her immensely frightening personality.

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The pretty dark haired girl appeared baffled by the fact that anyone could get used to the Raisa's behavior, which just made him chuckle a little. She herself reminded him a tiny bit of Raisa - not a whole lot, but a little. "It takes a while, but you do get used to it." He said, with a nod. He had at first been skeptical about Raisa when she first auditioned but her skills had spoken for themselves. Of course things had not boded will for them when she dated Dominik back in the beginning. He had warned her against getting involved with the guitarist and she hadn't listened. Still, he thought things worked out just about right since Alex was a better fit for Legion than Dominik had been.

Apparently the the gentleman in the crust punk attire was a little uncertain about what the girl said, inquiring as to which of them she was inviting him to hang out that weren't potentially legally insane. "I wasn't aware there was a rule about that either. Perhaps that's where I've gone wrong." He told the other guy with a smile. He was pretty sure the guy was named Cormy or Corny...Or something along those lines. "And I appreciate the offer, I think the most normal one out of our group is him." He said, gesturing toward Jack briefly.


When Raisa finally returned with the key cards, Liam raised a brow at her as he took his card, recalling her and the wonderful Skype episode. "No one is jumping onto my balcony." He stated, shaking his head with a sigh. He couldn't imagine Alex would tolerate it either as he glanced over at his guitarist who would probably not be amused to find the redhaired drummer knocking on her door in the middle of the night. Jack might not mind too much.


Liam's lips twitched into a small smile when he saw Edei's facial expressions when Raisa appeared and then moved away. "You're right. I've been in a lot of different projects and bands since I was pretty young, so I've toured quite a bit, even with Legion." He told her, with a nod. "What about you guys?" He asked the two of them, curiously.




Craig's brows went up when the apparently heartless guitarist began to explain. She looked like she was just on the verge of smiling, however she kept it well contained, he noted. "Yeah, you know what. Keep the picture to yourself." He told Alex, with a laugh and a shake of his head, thinking that was one mental picture he could do without, just as Izzie began throwing key cards at them. He barely managed to catch his before it hit him in the face. He frowned at the small piece of plastic. He could only imagine what Izzie thought of it, before pocketing it.

Jack attempted to defend himself by saying that he was indeed a lovely Santa, which Craig just laughed at before saying, "Yeah, I'm sure. Especially with the beard." He told him, smirking in amusement. He actually got the redhead to shut up? Damn. He thought, astounded. That girl seemed like she was never quiet. "But that also reminds me...Why do you have that saved on your phone?" He asked Alex, curiously.

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#, as written by Celedia
Raisa didn’t even wait for anyone to join her at the elevator. As soon as it made that god awful ding sound and the doors slid open, she was inside jamming on the close the fucking door button for all she was worth. She had shit to do! A dozen ideas for how to entertain her hyperactive self all floated through her head. The aforementioned poker game was still on the table but she was kind of used to being left to her own devices so she had alternate itineraries for the evening.

When the elevator reopened onto the seventh floor, she skipped (literally skipped down the hall like a fucking preschooler high on sugar) down the hall and slid her keycard through the slot of room 711. Though she had talked all about security to the front desk clerk she all but ignored such preventative measures once allowed entry into her room and after chucking her duffel bag into the bare closet Raisa moved out onto her balcony, leaving the door to her room ajar as she slipped the keycard into the pocket of her jeans.

Oh fuck yes, she did indeed have a balcony.

The sun was setting and the drummer knew one way to enjoy the scenery would be to view it from this position right here
. Whilst hanging upside down with her legs hooked over the balcony railing and her body dangling a few stories above the pavement.

What was the worst that could happen? Blood could rush to her head and she could pass out, plummeting to the street below
 But hell, that had to be like a one in a billion chance, right?





Edei glanced between the two guys, snickering as Cormy was railed in the forehead with his keycard and she barely managed to duck out of the way of her own. It flew over her head, skittering across the marble flooring before slamming into the opposing wall.

“You ever considering pitching, Izzie? Holy shit.” The bassist mumbled before scrambling off of the couch to get her shit together and when she returned, she finally responded to Liam’s question.

“My first tour. Ever. I was mostly studio work before I was invited by the lovely and oh-so-talented Izzie to join Psychosis.” She grinned, wondering how Izzie would fare while being surrounded by a bunch of people almost as crazy as herself while on tour and she shot Cormy a look, allowing him to speak for himself.

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Craig didn't seem too eager to get an eyeful of lingerie-clad St. Mark Claus, which Jack really couldn't fault the dude for-- shit, he couldn't imagine how anybody could maintain a semblance of self-confidence after seeing the sheer magnificence encapsulated in that single image. Men and women alike would look upon the glory of it, and never again would they be able to so much as glance to the mirror, unable to bear the reality that no matter what make-up, accessories, or body modification they underwent, they would never achieve that level of utter gorgeousness.

Well, either he wasn't too eager, or his band leader had just about beaned him upside the head with a key card. One or the other.

His old mate shoved the card into his pocket, just in time to hear Jack extol the loveliness of his Santa-hood, and laugh in cruel mockery. "Yeah, I'm sure," he remarked with no dearth of sarcasm. "Especially with the beard."

At the mention of the beard, the bassist seemed to seize up briefly, as though reminded of a horrifically traumatising event in his past, before his face fell. "The beard... it... I was..." Jack struggled to speak, every word forcing him to relive the horror of a time he sought with every fibre of his body to forget, but at last, he could no longer maintain composure. Overcome with despair, he attempted to sink into the arms of his guitarist, a plan which ingloriously failed as Alex simply side-stepped out of the way and watched Jack crash to the ground.

"Jesus, Alex," the bassist grunted as he scrambled back up to his feet, looking up to her with betrayal and pain evident in his eyes. "I see now where my loyalty and friendship gets me from the Lord of Fever herself-- naught but the cold rejection of the ground!"

"Lord Fever has no time to bother with the inane trivialities of her lowly subjects," Alex retorted in a voice so icy cold it would have chilled to the bone even the denizens of the northernmost tundras of Siberia.

"See?" Jack insisted, turning back towards Craig. "Fuckin' evil. Anyway, about my beard. Around that time I just happened to've broken up with a certain girlfriend of mine who was both none too pleased with the whole spectacle and also well aware of the might of the beard. I don't think I need to extrapolate from there, but let's just say there was a reason I was so drunk."

"But that also reminds me..." Craig trailed off, turning from Jack now to the guitarist, who raised an eyebrow. "Why do you have that saved on your phone?"

And without missing a beat, without the slightest shift in expression, Alex simply replied, "Blackmail materiel."







Edei seemed deeply amused with the less than pleasant meeting between Cormac's forehead and the key card, though she didn't come off as quite as entertained by the way her own shot right over her head like a damn bullet, skittering into the wall on the other side and necessitating that she get off the couch and retrieve it. Cormac would have smirked at the way she muttered under her breath about Izzie's evident pitching skill, if not for the fact that the smarting pain on the front of his noggin wasn't a testament to that. Then again, Izzie struck Cormy as more of a 'batter' sorta person, but hell, he was anything but the most well-versed individual when it came to baseball.

When Edei returned, key card in tow, the long-haired dude was answering a question Cormy figured Edei musta asked while he was on the ground in agony. "You're right," he remarked with a smile. "I've been in a lot of different projects and bands since I was pretty young, so I've toured quite a bit, even with Legion." Ah, Cormy discerned sagaciously, proud of his powers of comprehension. She must've asked about touring. This knowledge would undoubtedly aid him greatly as the guy turned the question back on them.

Edei, of course, lunged to answer first. "My first tour. Ever. I was mostly studio work before I was invited by the lovely and oh-so-talented Izzie to join Psychosis." She fell silent, looking to Cormac, who took that as beck for him to speak his piece, which he began with a shrug of his narrow shoulders. "The only band I was ever involved in prior to this was a punk band, so... we didn't really tour so much as occasionally play in people's garages, y'know." He didn't wanna up and say it was also his first tour-- that'd just make him look like a fuckin' inexperienced... whatever, y'know? Okay, even he didn't really know, but he did know it would make him look bad.

None too eager to let the subject linger on that note, Cormac hastily added, "Hey, what'd Izzie say about playing some card type shit?" Now, there, he was in good shape. Card games? Man, Cormy'd fuck a fool up. Yu-Gi-Oh, Pokemon, Magic: The Gathering, man, that shit was his fuckin' jive.







For her part, Izzie was already on her way out.

She'd stepped towards the elevator, only to find Raisa, in what was probably about as much as could be expected of her, pounding frantically at the close button even as the doors were shutting. Izzie stopped, raising an eyebrow, before the two doors met, and away the drummer went. Most other folks and Izzie would have assumed-- most likely, not incorrectly-- that they were in a rush to avoid ending up in a small, close-quarter environment with her, but then, you could never really guess at the motives of Raisa Trelstad, so Izzie didn't bother trying. She just took her shit, waited for the elevator to come back, and went on her merry way.

Quiet. Eerily quiet-- that was the first thing Izzie noticed as she stepped out of the elevator onto her floor. Her brow furrowed. How deeply unsettling. She was used to the kinda hotels where every door you walked past brought a new sound-- laughter, crying, raised voices, a cornucopia of lives playing out just out of sight. Here, though? Fuckin' nothing. Silence at every door. She found it strangely morose. It was the kinda lifeless hotel where people went to be alone and reflect on years long since past-- it was that kinda silence.

Somewhat concerned that a serial killer might leap out of one of the doors with a knife (which was pretty much always a concern to her-- and a fucking valid one, dammit, especially with Raisa and Edei both lurking about this place), Izzie stepped cautiously until she reached her door, fumbling the key card into its slot and waiting until the lock turned green. She pushed open the door, toting along her belongings, and stepped into what was home for the next few days.

A single bed furnished in the same dark red of the carpet it stood on was located at one end-- across from it, a television on a stand. A bathroom to her immediate left. On the far wall across from her, a glass pane through which filtered the last vestiges of the sinking sun, affording a gloriously depressing view of the star as it set beneath the horizon. Not that Izzie paid a whit of attention to any of that: she simply cast aside her luggage, dropping it where she stood, and stepped further into the room. As she did, she reached to remove the leather jacket encasing her body, tugging the ancient article off and tossing it haphazardly to the floor.

How very drab.

In fact, just to spite it all, Izzie decided, in possibly the most un-punk 'fuck this shit' motion ever undertaken (Cormac would have been deeply disappointed), to read. She had brought a number of books along with her, figuring on spending most of the time not spent actually gigging during this tour shut up in her room either reading, or drunk. Or both simultaneously. Camus' The Stranger took on some real fuckin' trippy undertones when read fresh off a bottle of jack.

Alas, she didn't have a bottle of jack on hand, but she did have her books, and that would suffice. She took one up, perched herself on the bed against the wall, donned her reading glasses, and allowed herself to become a part of the silence of the hotel.

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Liam managed to refrain from laughing when a key card hit the Psychosis drummer smack between the eyes, however he found himself smirking ever so slightly as he turned his attention back to the dark haired woman who seemed equally amused, although she herself had to get up from the couch and fetch her own card where it rested on the floor near the wall before returning and answering his question and shortly after, so did the Psychosis drummer after receiving a look from the dark haired woman. "Ah, well I think you'll both do well. Touring is almost always fun if you're in good company." He told them. He didn't think this was Izzie Martinez's first show either, so at least someone would know what to expect as well. He thought back to some of the times he'd been in less than pleasant company while on a tour, whether it had been from his own bandmates at the time or from others he was touring with - that was always unfortunate, especially if it was your bandmates because you were stuck with them until the tour came to a close. "And well, if you actually enjoy playing live shows." He tacked on, almost as an after thought, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. He had high doubts that someone would choose to join a band and start touring if they simply disliked playing live.

The fact that the drummer had previously played in a punk band would certainly explain the attire, and he was tempted to inquire as to why he switched over from punk to metal however the drummer quickly changed topics, asking Edei about a card game and so Liam fell silent, debating taking his stuff up to his room right about now.




Craig watched the bassist's response to his mentioning of the beard. This was something that amused him greatly - it made him curious, how did Jack feel about himself before he was capable of growing a beard? He watched as the bassist staggered and attempted to find consolation for whatever happened to the beard in the arms of his guitarist, who simply stepped aside at the last moment and let him tumble to the ground. Craig tried to cover his laugh with a cough, however it wasn't too convincing. Smiling, he watched the exchange between Jack and Alex. "I see what you mean." He told the bassist, amusement evident in his voice, however he did his best to hide it. "So, what tragedy befell the beard?" He asked however not a second later, Jack began explaining on his own.

As it turned out, Jack had been drunk for a reason. Whether it be to mourn the loss of a relationship or the loss of his facial hair, he wasn't entirely sure but Craig just nodded as though he were completely and utterly understanding of Jack's actions afterwards. Well, he supposed the redhead had been right in thinking that removing Jack's facial hair would be the best way to seek revenge as it had certainly worked when his ex girlfriend did it. "I see. Mourning the loss of the beard?" He asked, curiously and then glanced over at Edei, the long haired dude and Cormac.

"Hey, Edei," He called to her, figuring she must have gotten her keycard as well earlier and therefore would likely be going to her room soon. "I'll carry one of your bags for you." He said, knowing she'd declined before, however he figured she must be getting tired of carrying those around. She'd probably appreciate it. Well, he hoped she would appreciate it, anyways.

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#, as written by Celedia
Edei drew her lower lip between her teeth and bit down to keep from laughing out loud at Cormy’s over exuberant response to the idea of playing cards. Especially since she didn’t recall ever seeing him play any form of game
 ever.

Then again it wasn’t like they were BFFs hanging out every night at each other’s houses so technically he could be a serial killer for all she knew. Except Cormy was as far from the standard profile of a serial killer as Izzie was from being one of those people running around with a “Free hugs!” sign around her neck, embracing people for the sheer joy of the act.

The thought made Edei snicker to herself and she realized that both of the men she was talking to had fallen silent yet again.

“Cards? I’m game if you are. Well, wait. Maybe I should stop by and grab extra liquor from the gift shop before I do that
” Leaving her bags strewn beside the couch, she popped across the lobby and entered into the ornately decorated store before reemerging not even 5 minutes later with a scowl upon her face.

“Did you know hotels don’t sell booze in there? Who in the hell would refuse liquor as a gift, I ask you?!” She had wandered back towards her bags when Craig popped up and asked about helping her carry them again and she stared down at the three, pondering a moment before relenting.

“Sure thing, Cap’n America.” Another grin lit her features and she picked up the lightest duffel bag which contained her pillow (because sleeping on pillows where someone else’s gross greasy face had rested was not her idea of fun) and a few other lightweight things and she tossed it underhanded in his direction. The other two bags she strapped around her torso as she made her way to the elevator.

“I’m going to go toss my shit in my room and find CrazyMcRedhead to play cards. Anyone else?”

She jabbed the call button for the elevator and waited for it to descend back to their level.




Raisa, on the other hand, had moved from dangling precariously off of the railing of her balcony to practicing her death defying leaps between her balcony and the one belonging to her neighbor, which she could only hope belonged to either Liam or Jack. Alex might actually push her off, if she found the drummer bouncing around outside of her sliding glass door. Lord of Fever? Lord of Terror.

She liked Alex immensely, as she did everyone else in the group but she had a feeling if anyone of them were to follow through with actually murdering her, it would be Alex.

Yet, despite her fear of the guitarist, Raisa perched herself onto the railing of this brand new balcony and awaited whomever chose the room to enter. She had a clear view of the entire bedroom which might turn creepy if they started stripping down upon entry. Hell, knowing her luck it was Jack and he still had some sort of odd lingerie fetish since that whole Santa incident and he secretly hid the frilly shit underneath his outfits now without his bandmates being any wiser.

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Jack continued his usual animated antics-- by now Alex had long since adjusted to them, though there had been a time when she had found them a little annoying. But then, back when she'd first been brought in to replace Legion's erstwhile lead guitarist in the studio, she'd been fresh off a turbulent period in her life, and she hadn't played in a band in quite a stretch of time. Maybe returning to the music scene with characters as... ah, colourful as Jack, Raisa, and Liam was not the most apropos of choices, but she didn't regret it. Anything about them that she had once found irksome she now found, if anything, a bit endearing, or at least unobtrusive, which applied as much to Jack's utter inability to get serious as it did to Raisa's utter inability to sit still and silent for more than the blink of an eye and Liam's inability to don any attire brighter than the blackest of black metal without presumably bursting into flames as a consequence.

She was probably a little drab herself in comparison, but if anybody was gonna come off as the quiet one in the group, she supposed she was fine with it being her.

"I see," the guy who had been named as Craig-- whom apparently Jack was previously acquainted with-- remarked. "Mourning the loss of the beard?"

Jack nodded solemnly. "I tell you, never have I experienced an existentialist crisis like the moment I awoke from a drunken stupor, and realised immediately something was deeply wrong with the universe. The mirror and helpful explanatory note she left beside me didn't hurt, though."

Something on his band's end of things seemed to have caught Craig's attention-- over by the sofas, where the skinny Irishman in the battle jacket and the skinny woman of indeterminate ethnic heritage in the significantly less conspicuous attire, she espied Legion's intrepid singer, evidently making conversation with the motley pair. "Hey, Edei," Craig called over, and the woman turned her head toward him. "I'll carry one of your bags for you."

A moment's hesitation, and Edei assented, tossing one of the bags and making for the elevator. "I'm going to go toss my shit in my room and find Crazy McRedhead to play cards," she remarked to those who hung back in the lobby; Alex raised an eyebrow. "Anyone else?" It wasn't a leap of logic to deduce that Raisa (who was almost certainly the Crazy McRedhead in question, unless Psychosis too was in possession of a psychotic redhead they were hiding away) had invited the lot for a game of cards. Without giving pause to extend the same invitation to her bandmates, of course, but then, was that not to be expected? She'd probably forgotten all about the idea the second after she'd had it.

"Cards, my loyal servant?" she spoke in a dispassionate, lordly voice, turning to Jack, who bowed low. "As the lord wills it, so it shall be." Then he straightened, and elabourated, "Which is to say, I hope you're ready to lose and lose hard, 'cause whether it's poker or blackjack, even Lord Fever quails before the gambling might of Jack St. Mark."

"Quail before you? Oh my, you're wearing Santa lingerie under those clothes, aren't you?"

"AM I NEVER GONNA LIVE THAT SHIT DOWN--"

"Chalk me up as one more for cards," Alex called over to Liam, leaving the bassist a quivering, despondent mass as she walked away with a deliberate aire of coldness, heading for the elevator. "Just gonna drop my luggage off in my room and then I guess I'll see you in Raisa's," she added to Liam as she walked by him, before reaching the elevator.

Not a moment later, and she was in her room, a small enclave of silence, of peace and quiet in what felt like the flurry of action that had led her here. The tour bus, the cramped quarters, that whole aspect of it. She set her baggage down, stretched her arms out, and-- because after all, she was alone, and the planets were all properly aligned, removed her metal-laden jacket. But now was not a time of repose-- and not just because of the impending card game. She had promised Helen she'd call her as soon as she had a chance at the hotel-- her daughter was deeply fascinated by her mother's musical career and the touring lifestyle, though Alex had assured her it was anything but glorious, and she loved to hear from Alex on the road. It brought a full smile to her lips-- Michael resented Helen's preoccupation with her mother's career, perhaps because it elicited more passion and liveliness from the otherwise subdued girl than anything he'd ever done.

... not that there's any bitter satisfaction on my part. No way. Er... okay, maybe just a little bit.

She shoved a hand into the pocket of her jeans, retrieving her cell phone and flicking through the contacts until the highlight fell upon the name Helen Rykov-Chen (yes, her daughter had her own cell phone-- Alex wasn't one of those 'BACK IN MY DAY WE DIDN'T EVEN HAVE A PAGER UNTIL WE WERE DEAD' types and she thought it was an important tool of safety and communication for Helen to have). She hit call, lifted the phone to her ear, and waited. The thing hardly got through half a ring before Helen picked up.

"Hey, Mom." The voice on the other end was hardly that of an eight year old-- anybody unfamiliar with Helen hearing the voice would have been led to believe they were speaking to a teenager. Alex grinned and sat down at the edge of the bed in her hotel room. "Hey, sweetie. How've you been today?"

"Fine," was all Helen spared on the inconsequential subject of her well-being, before, with a hint of impatience and anticipation colouring her low voice, she immediately cut to the heart of the matter. "Are you on tour now, Mom?"

"Sure am. Just got to the hotel a little bit ago and we already met one of the bands we're touring with."

"Which band?" her daughter pressed with genuine curiosity.

"They're called Psychosis. I'm..." Alex recalled some of the Psychosis lyrics she'd read in the past. "... not too sure you should look them up, sweetie."

"Are you gonna be playing soon?" she insisted, dispatching of the previous subject immediately and moving onto more significant horizons.

Alex chuckled. "All too soon, I fear."

"Don't you like playing live?" There was a hint of vexation tingeing Helen's curious voice now, and Alex hastened to assure her, "Oh, 'course I do. Nothing like it in the world. It's the touring in between the playing that gets me, y'know."

"Hm." Helen sounded almost indignant. "I think I'd love every minute of it."

Alex gave a full laugh at that. "Well, I suppose you'll just have to see about that once you get your own band going, eh?"

"I dunno about that. Dad says I can be whatever I want to be, but I know he doesn't like it when I say I wanna be in a band, and when I said I want a guitar for Christmas he told me it was too expensive. And Sandra thinks it's weird. She says kids my age should be playing with toys, not 'rock star stuff'."

"Well, the hell with th--" Alex caught herself in a heated moment too late, and grit her teeth together, forcing herself to dispel the sudden bout of vehemence that had emerged within herself. She hated having to play this part. "Sandra's your step-mother, and your father is... well, your father. They have valuable advice as well, and you gotta listen to them too." There was a very pregnant silence between the two before Alex couldn't help it and added, "But between you 'n me? Forget toys. I'll buy you that guitar myself. And if your dad doesn't like it, you can play it whenever you stay with me, and if he doesn't like that, he's gonna have to deal, 'cause I'm your mom, and if my daughter wants a guitar for Christmas then she's gonna be jammin' to Hendrix and Zeppelin before New Year's out."

The grin on the other end of the phone was practically palpable. "I knew you'd say that," Helen said, almost proudly. "Sandra and dad don't get me, but I knew you'd understand."

"'course I do--" Alex began to reply a little cockily, before she saw something out of her peripheral vision. She turned her head, and her gaze fell upon-- who else?-- Raisa, perched comfortably on the railing of the balcony outside her hotel room. I must have been too distracted to hear her pop up, Alex rebuked herself, the wide grin on her face quickly vanishing and replaced with a typical subdued expression. "Hey, sweetie, can you hold on a sec? Somebody's got a death wish."

"Is it Raisa?" her daughter replied knowingly, and Alex had to restrain another grin. "Nevermind that. Just hold on a sec, yeah?"

"Dad says I've gotta go to bed. Though I can probably sneak my phone to bed..."

"Uh, no, no," Alex hastily put the kibosh on that plan of action as she stood from the bed. She wasn't about to try that again-- not after the last time Michael had blown the whole fucking thing out of proportion and practically threatened to sever their custody deal if it happened again. "It's about your bedtime anyway, kiddo. I'll talk to you tomorrow again if you want."

"I'll be waiting," Helen replied almost enigmatically, though her attempts at ominousness were a bit marred by the disappointment in her voice, and the hang-up tone signalled the end of their conversation. Alex sighed, shoved her phone back into her pocket, and walked over to the balcony door.

"Making yourself at home, I see," she directed towards Raisa with a face utterly inscrutable as she opened the door and peered out at the drummer-- more irritated that her conversation had been interrupted than that she'd ended up, once again, in the room directly next to Raisa's.

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Liam had never been one for card games, however most of the others seemed to be interested in joining Raisa, however the Psychosis bassist seemed to be interested in getting a bottle liquor before joining them. Whether it was because drinking and playing cards went together well together or because she was thinking she'd need some alcohol in her system before being around Raisa for longer than a few minutes, he wasn't sure. Perhaps it was just something to pass the time and he supposed it was as good as just about anything else he could think of that they could be doing. Normally he'd consider picking up that fantasy novel that he had yet to finish or perhaps watching the season finale of A Game of Thrones again although he figured it would probably be more beneficial to put aside his nerdish interests for a night and be social and join his bandmates for a game of cards.

When Edei returned from inquiring about the booze, she seemed displeased, explaining that the hotel didn't have any alcohol for sale. "That's odd, I would think alcohol would be an excellent gift for all occasions." He said, shaking his head. Really, it would be. Happy occasion? Booze to celebrate. Solemn occasion? Booze to drink away your sorrows. Perfect gift in his opinion.

Pulling away from his thoughts, he heard the Psychosis bassist say she was going to head up to her room. She tossed a bag to 'Captain America' who had offered to carry some of her things for her and then she gathered up the rest of her bags, saying she was going to go find 'Crazy McRedhead', who was undoubtedly Raisa after she got settled. He then turned to the Psychosis members and nodded. "I'll probably join Crazy McRedhead for a game of cards, or at least watch as well." He told them, gathering his own things off the floor before turning to Alex who was now speaking to him. "Sounds good, I'll see you there." He said and then headed over to the elevator as well, silently hoping that Raisa wasn't going to stay up late Skype chatting her friends again - or at least not if she was right next to him again.






"Must have been a rude awakening." Craig said, shaking his head at the idea. Waking up hungover and then finding out your beard was gone when you were as attached to it as Jack was. Ouch.

After a moment, he glanced back at Edei who finally decided to give in (Not that he was surprised, he had been thinking she was probably getting really tired of lugging three bags around.) and tossed him one of her bags which was surprisingly light when he caught it. She told them she was going to go put her things in her room before going over to the crazy redhead's room. He looked back to Jack and his guitarist, smiling a little in amusement as he watched the guitarist pull the lingerie card on Jack who seemed to be doubting he'd ever live the incident down. It was good to see Jack again, the guy was pretty funny and a lot more sane than some of his bandmates. "Probably not." He told him. "Anyway, I'll see you guys later. I'm gonna go help Edei." He said to Jack and Alex, offering them a quick nod before following after Edei who was waiting for her elevator already.

Once he reached her, he cocked his head to the side slightly. "So. Care to tell me why you need so many bags, m'lady?" He asked her with a smile, holding up the bag curiously.

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#, as written by Celedia
Raisa’s feet were swinging to a tune currently looping its way through her head and her fingers were wrapped around the banister that she was perched upon. She saw Alex enter the room in front of her and cringed slightly. Though she adored Alex, as well as her daughter on the few occasions that they had been allowed to interact, she couldn’t help but feel that Alex would sometimes prefer to stab her in the face.

Maybe it was from the last time they toured and Raisa had broken in through Alex’s balcony door to wake her up at like 5am one day because she wanted someone to go with her to iHop and the doors to both of the guys’ rooms were locked.

The drummer opened her mouth to call out to the guitarist but Alex didn’t even look in her direction. Instead a phone was pulled out and a litany of emotions crossed over the guitarists features.

Must mean she was talking to Helen.

That little girl was the only one that made Alex look practically soft and mushy with that odd smile curving her lips and Raisa was pretty sure that Helen’s father was the only one that could cause that quick snarling countenance that flashed over her face at random moments.

So, Raisa stayed silent which was a miracle in and of itself until Alex suddenly lifted her head and spotted her. The redhead’s arms windmilled and she debated whether or not she should take off for her own balcony or stand her ground though she wasn’t given much of a choice. Alex hung up her cell and came to the door, pushing it open with a, “Making yourself at home, I see”.

She forced a smile which probably came across rather creepily as she inclined her head towards the cell phone that Alex had just tucked away into her pocket.

“Helen?”

A brief silence lapsed before Raisa picked up the conversation again.

“You can always tell when you’re on the phone with her. The love shows on your face. I’ve never seen you so happy as when you’re either about to spend the weekend with her or when you’re talking to her. She’s lucky to have you for a mom.”

Another smile exchanged places with the current creeper smile, one that was softer around the edges and showed the honesty in her words
 But like all topics of conversation, this one was short-lived as the drummer skipped to a related one, then to a brand new one with ease.

“Next time you talk to her, tell her I’m collecting those t-shirts for her like she asked! She’ll be the only kid with a full collection of Hard Rock tees anymore. Do people still collect those?”

Her head tilted to one side and she shrugged, pushing herself off of the railing as she wrapped Alex in a quick hug and then climbed upon the balcony’s banister so she could jump back over to hers. Because, y’know, using the door to Alex’s room would take way too damn long and wasn’t as sarcastically easy as this route was.

“Cards! Come play cards! I have some moonshine and a full deck. We can play poker!”

And with that, Raisa disappeared into her room and walked through to her front door, popping it open in case anyone actually decided to take her up on the offer.




Edei was one of the people that was crazy enough to take Crazy McRedhead up on the offer to gamble but first, she wanted to drop her stuff off in her own room and perhaps raid the minibar. Shit in the minibar was usually super expensive but she had a credit card, right? Surely this would count as some sort of business expense. They were practically stars by now.

As they stood waiting for the elevator, Craig inquired, "So. Care to tell me why you need so many bags, m'lady?" and Edei grinned at his choice of phrasing.

“Well, good sir. That one,” she pointed towards the lighter bag that he carried, “Is my pillow, yoga pants and a tank. Basically if I’m ever too sleepy to care, that would be the one bag I would grab on my way in to a hotel.”

The elevator door slid open and she slipped inside, whistling for anyone else that wanted in before they ascended to their floor and then she gestured to the messenger bag that was strapped around her torso. “This one
 is embarrassing. It’s an old school NES. You remember those? Like Super Mario Brothers and such? Yeaaah. I figured I would need something to entertain me at times.”

“Then the other just has the rest of my crap. Clothing, make up, shampoo, etc. I’m a girl, y’know. I have to have a lot of luggage.”

She snickered to herself and exited the elevator once it rolled up to their floor, taking her keycard from her pocket so she could recall what room she was in.

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Raisa gave the kind of smile Alex imagined looked disturbingly similar to the last sight of Ted Bundy's victims, and indicated with her head down at Alex's pants. The guitarist raised a curious eyebrow briefly before Raisa explained with a single word: "Helen?" And then she added, with a softer smile, "You can always tell when you’re on the phone with her. The love shows on your face. I've never seen you so happy as when you’re either about to spend the weekend with her or when you’re talking to her. She’s lucky to have you for a mom."

Alex couldn't help but smile uncertainly, scratching at the back of her neck through the thick mass of dreadlocks in the way. "Thanks," she ventured, even though she knew Raisa was anything but correct.

It was really only through happenstance that Raisa had come to be familiar-- if only vaguely-- with the details of Alex's family life. Liam knew only that her daughter existed-- of Helen's father, of Alex's marital status and any other such facets of her home life, she made a point of keeping him and anybody else as in the dark as she could. As for Jack, their fine bassist was probably the most blissfully ignorant person Alex had ever met: if anybody could be counted on to consistently fail to put two and two together and get the point, it was him, and she suspected he would never figure out Helen existed unless Alex, perhaps in a moment of madness, told him straight to his face "I've got a daughter", at which point he would presumably sink to his knees, look to the sky in anguish, and cry an extended, tormented "Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" for no reason other than that far be it for him to pass up so shining an opportunity to be melodramatic.

As for Raisa, Alex had been convinced the moment she caught on to more than Liam was aware of that she was doomed-- the band's certified loudmouth had gotten wind of her private life. Any semblance of confidentiality was about to go out the window-- or so Alex had feared. It turned out she had misjudged Raisa: she'd kept the whole thing quiet, such that she'd even interacted with Helen in the past, albeit in fairly limited fashion. Sure, the whole artifice couldn't be maintained forever, and inevitably some things slipped through Alex's radar, but as long as she could manage, she was going to make sure her private life remained just that.

... but why is that necessary, exactly?

Well, if there was one thing Raisa's off-the-wall psychosis could be thanked for, she never let anybody sit around brooding and stewing in their own angst for very long. She changed tack-- at first only partially, and then completely. "Next time you talk to her, tell her I'm collecting those t-shirts for her like she asked!" Raisa declared. "She'll be the only kid with a full collection of Hard Rock tees anymore. Do people still collect those?"

Alex suppressed a chuckle. "I'm sure she'll be delighted. Thanks." And she figured that'd be that, except that instead of turning and running off (probably through Alex's own hotel room), Raisa, as should have been expected, did something unexpected: she suddenly leaned forward, hopped off the railing, and embraced Alex. It was a quick movement, and she released too quickly for Alex to really hug back, leaving Alex gawking briefly at the drummer as she proceeded to clamber on up onto the railing and then leapt over onto the other balcony, nearly giving Alex a heart attack and startling her out of her brief funk.

"Come play cards!" Raisa called from the other balcony, as though she hadn't totally just nearly fallen several stories to a death that would have rivalled any of the Psychosis lyrics Alex had read for brutality. "I have some moonshine and a full deck. We can play poker!" And with that, she vanished into her room, leaving Alex torn between chuckling, shaking her head ruefully, and rebuking the drummer for being so reckless.

But then, it wouldn't have been Raisa if she hadn't been reckless... or really, if she'd listened to Alex rebuking her for it.






For Jack's part, he was left where he'd been standing-- abandoned by his band mate, adjusted to her malice though he was, and by his old friend, who, in a betrayal as painful and unexpected as Benedict Arnold defecting to the British during the American Revolution, had left Jack behind to help out some other bassist (I thought I was the only one for him! Jack cried despondently, wringing his hands in despair).

Then, once he was done appropriately over-reacting to the situation, as was simply required by his code of morals, Jack remembered something about cards at Raisa's and decided fuck it, he was down.

It looked like Liam was gone too-- hell, even the other Psychosis dude, the skinny Irish fucker with the battle jacket, had departed, leaving Jack dead last. This is a sorry state of affairs, he mused, glancing around, looking like a fool standing there alone with his luggage. Well, the hell with it-- cards it was! And maybe alcohol. Probably alcohol. Alcohol was nice-- in moderation and all that sorta rot. The last thing he needed was to spot Raisa's underwear or some shit lying around and then wake up a few hours later with Alex standing over him, a smirk pulling at her lips and incriminating evidence saved permanently into the electronic vault of her phone.

Not that Raisa was the type to leave lingerie lying around. Jack was just the type to get drunk and find it.

He shook his head. "No time for such morose reflections," he assured himself, before turning and striking a pose, pointing heroically towards the elevator and declaring in a very overwrought English accent, "For the red-haired maiden beckons, that we may gamble and drink and be merry!" And then, absolutely disregarding the lobby full of people he'd just given a heart attack, Jack strode up to the elevator, and rode off.

He reached the floor in question, glancing at his key card to figure out which room was his. As Raisa had said, the rooms assigned to each Legionnaire (he was gonna make that term happen, goddammit, and to hell with his bandmates if they were gonna be all dull about it) were in a row, and one of them was ajar-- musta been Raisa's. Using this knowledge, Jack was able to gauge that his room was not, in fact, next to Raisa's, which elicited a victorious cry of triumph, like a conquering warlord beholding their newly-begotten realms, or an overly dramatic bassist celebrating not having to room next to a psychopath.

About that time, Alex stepped out of the door adjacent to Raisa's, raising a hand in greeting to Jack. "Milady," he greeted her with a low bow, before they both started for the door into Raisa's room. Alex knocked politely on the frame of the door, followed shortly thereafter by Jack sauntering in and declaring in a loud voice, "LET'S GET OUR ASSORTED BOOZING AND GAMBLING ON MOTHERFUCKERS."





"Hey, where'd everybody go?"

In the lobby, one Cormac 'Cormy' McMurphy found himself alone and baffled. It seemed he'd blinked his eyes and everybody was gone. "Goddamn band'a ninjas," he grumbled to himself, before trying to remember if anyone had ever actually mentioned where the crazy redhead chick was. He knew they were supposed to be playing cards, sure, but did any of them know where in the balls her room was?

".... shoulda gone with Edei and Craig," he rebuked himself as he started for the elevator with a sigh. He'd probably end up completely lost, wandering the halls of the hotel listlessly until a voice over the hotel PA announced, "Cormac McMurphy, please come to the lobby front desk, your legal guardian Izzie Martinez is waiting for you, and she's very upset with you, young man."

He wouldn't have put it past Izzie to do that again.







Meanwhile, in her hotel room, Izzie noticed a disturbance in the force, as though there was an NES somewhere in the vicinity, and felt a strong urge to start blastin' some 8-bit motherfuckers in a game of Mega Man. Shaking her head, she returned to her book.

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Craig nodded once at what Edei said as they entered the elevator, figuring that would make sense. It also explained why it had been so light when she'd tossed it to him. He then shifted his gaze to the other two bags which Edei was carrying as she explained what each of them held - apparently one contained old video games. He raised a brow at that and smiled. "Hey, that's not embarrassing, that's awesome." He told her. "I must say though, I never really thought of you as the gamer type, because you know..." He gestured toward her, probably referring to the fact she was a female and a good looking one at that. He then shrugged. He would think a girl like Edei wouldn't be all that interested in things like that. As a kid he had some video games but never really spent much time playing them since the Duncan's had a firm belief that being outdoors and getting fresh air and sunshine was good for him, even though all he really wanted to do was sit in his room and play his guitar. So, therefore he spent a vast majority of his time out hunting in the mountains of Arizona with his family (Yeah, he came from a fairly redneck family...). "It seems like a pretty good way to kill some time. Come to think of it, I probably should have brought something along too..."

When she got down to the last bag, he was unsurprised although he still cocked his head slightly. "I don't know, it still just confuses me how someone so small needs so much stuff. I wasn't aware there was some sort of unwritten law that women need to have a lot of luggage." He said, shaking his head. Although come to think of it, Izzie was a woman too and he didn't think she had multiple bags. But then again Izzie wasn't really...The best example of a woman. He lifted his own bag to show the difference. His bag had just about everything crammed into it, clothes, shampoo, etc. "I have everything in one bag." He told her with a smile. "I suppose that means men are simple creatures?" Craig asked with a small laugh.




Liam had found his room with relative ease. It was the last room in the hall, so it should probably be fairly quiet or at least so he hoped as he tossed his bag onto the desk, retrieving his book and placing it on his bedside table before pocketing his phone and then heading back out into the hall in search of Raisa's room which he didn't think would be too hard to locate since their rooms were all in a row together. It would also likely be the one with the most noise.

As he headed down the line he saw Jack and Alex emerge from their own rooms. Well, he supposed he wasn't going to have to truly look for Raisa's room now. "I guess we were all planning to play then?" He asked, a small amused smile touching his face as he watched Alex politely knock on Raisa's door whereas Jack seemed to decide he should just walk right on in and declare that they were to 'Get their assorted booze and gambling on' so probably everyone in the hall could hear what they were planning to do. That truly went to show the difference in the personalities of his bandmates, he supposed. I'm sure the people just across the hall are going to love us... He thought, chuckling a little.

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#, as written by Celedia
It just so happened that Edei, Craig, and Cormy’s rooms were those poor bastards placed across the hall from the Legion’s band members which Edei discovered with her amazing powers of deduction and investigation, coupled with the fact that she heard someone yell loudly, "LET'S GET OUR ASSORTED BOOZING AND GAMBLING ON MOTHERFUCKERS."

Cringing slightly as the noise carried into her room, Edei shot Craig a look that signaled her sorrow at such events but then she shrugged and continued down the hall until she found the room number that had been embossed upon her keycard

“What did you think I did with my free time then, Craig?” She asked with a laugh, shrugging so that the duffel bag’s strap shifted on her shoulder. “I can’t booze it up 24-7. I drink but not that much and though Psychosis does take up a large chunk of my life now, I need hobbies too.” The petite bassist grinned as she opened her hotel room door, walking in far enough to chuck her bags onto her bed before turning around again.

“Besides, what hobbies do you have?” She sounded almost indignant though there was still a hefty bit of playfulness to her tone and she motioned for the bag that he held so she could toss it with the rest and they could go find his room next. Then, if need be she could find which room the boozing and gambling would be held in so she could text Cormy.

Poor bastard was probably still in the lobby for all she knew.

Thinking ahead, she at least gave him the floor number so he could possibly find them before he turned into a wizened old man. Cormy- 7th floor. The other band is across from us. FML. Come up here!




Raisa awaited her many guests and when Jack burst in she spread both of her arms out as if praising his eloquent choice of phrasing before she turned back around to dig around in her luggage. Within a few moments she produced two bottles of moonshine. Though that wasn’t all she had, she didn’t want to drink it all within the first night and she set the apple pie and blueberry flavored spirits in their mason jars onto the coffee table.

“We need more room.”

She placed both hands upon her hips and scowled at the set up of her hotel room before springing into action. Surely, the shit had to move so she pushed against the largest piece of furniture first to drag it out of the way- the bed.

“Uggggh!” She grumbled, putting her shoulder against the bed frame though she didn’t seem to have much of an affect on its movement. It moved a scant couple of inches before she finally decided to ask for help.

“Where in the hell is Izzie? Is she coming? Maybe she can just pick up my bed one-handed and put it elsewhere until I want it again.”

Sadly, since Izzie was otherwise occupied she went for the next best acceptable thing- Jack, Alex, Liam and whoever else was close enough to hear her plea.

“Heeeeelp.”

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Cormac had just gotten in the elevator, figuring he was probably destined to spend the next several hours poring over each floor seeking (probably futilely) Crazy McRedhead's room, when Napalm Death's You Suffer came roaring at full blast out of his pocket, causing the drummer to instinctively drop his luggage and dive out of the elevator as though he'd just discovered a bomb therein. Having thusly attracted the attention of everybody else in the lobby (those who hadn't already accepted the fact that this hotel was actually a mental asylum) Cormac, disgruntled, clambered back up to his feet, muttering something about 'one'a these days I'm gonna change that damn ringtone', before promptly forgetting all about changing that damn ringtone as he shoved a hand into the pocket of his jeans and withdrew the cursed piece of technology.

The screen indicated a text from Edei, which was fortuitous-- hopefully, she was extending the profound kindness of informing Cormy as to where in the fuck he was supposed to go. Indeed, he pressed 'read' and unveiled the message-- indicating three bits of information: they were on the seventh floor, their rooms (with the exception of Izzie's) were across from the constituents of Legion, and Edei seemed anything but overjoyed at that fact. Which he could see-- if Crazy McRedhead (she had a name, probably, maybe) and the beardy dude were any indication, their stay was going to be anything but one of peace and quiet. He supposed he could only count it fortunate that Izzie was indeed on another floor entirely, and not only because she snored like a motherfucker and these walls seemed to be awful thin.

Eventually, after a brief escapade in which Cormy completely blanked at the keypad and briefly forgot what a seven looked like (hey, everybody's got their off days, Cormac just... had more of them), he reached the seventh floor, and stepped out to the sound of familiar voices down the hall, stark against the silence. Lo and behold, as he strode down the hall towards the voices, he found Edei, and Craig, who had evidently helped Edei take her shit up, which somewhat vexed Cormy, because couldn't he be counted on to carry luggage? He could totally carry luggage. I mean, shit, he was carrying his own luggage like a fuckin' champ, he could totally have helped Edei with...

"I think I better find my room, this luggage is getting real heavy," Cormac grunted as he readjusted his grip on his various items of baggage. One pack had all the necessities-- some clothes, some hygiene products, even toothpaste (though he had, naturally, neglected to pack a toothbrush). The other was stuffed to the brim with recreational shit-- comic books, a couple good superhero films, the like. Y'know, for whenever he got bored on tour and decided he felt like watching people in tights and underwear fly around. Always a good time.






It seemed Alex had only just knocked on the door (whereupon Jack apparently decided 'fuck etiquette' and showed himself right on in) when suddenly everybody seemed to converge in on the hall. She turned around and saw, not far down, the constituents of Psychosis (sans the big Hispanic one), who appeared to have ended up with rooms across from Legion's. Poor bastards, she couldn't help but sympathise, having been shacked up with the room right next to Raisa, before Liam's voice alerted her to the fact that he too was present. She turned to him with a hint of a smile. "I weep for the normal people who planned on a nice, quiet vacation and ended up in the hall with two death metal bands and Raisa," she mused to him as they entered the lair of Legion's nefarious drummer.

Therein Raisa had set out two jars of moonshine, and inexplicably some apple pie, which Alex certainly wasn't gonna complain about. Then she stood there with a scowl, glancing through the room with her hands on her hips as though the hotel room had committed some grievous wrong unto her, before declaring, "We need more room." Then she threw her bulk against the bed, attempting in vain to move the piece of furniture-- it budged about two inches, and then decided, fuck it, it wasn't goin' nowhere. Raisa struggled for another moment before giving up. "Where the hell is Izzie? Is she coming?"

"The Hispanic one?" Alex ventured with a shrug. "She said something to the extent of 'hell no', so I would guess she isn't."

This did not seem to altogether satisfactory to Raisa, who decided to turn her plea to her bandmates. Jack, ever eager to be the knight in shining armour, declared "I GOT THIS SHIT GUYS" and threw himself at the bed with all the gusto of a knight of the round table assailing a dragon zealously guarding its hoard of treasure. He made a valiant effort, in which many expletives were grunted and much sweat was shed and not much bed was moved, before Alex stepped behind him nonchalantly. "What's that you got, Jack?" she mused casually, as though merely remarking on the time of day. The bassist looked at her in despair. "Are you gonna help or are you just here to mock my efforts?"

"Mock yer efforts," the guitarist replied shortly, before sighing theatrically and shaking her head. "Step aside, lad. Liam, you wanna get the other end?" She took the spot Jack had vacated, crouching down before lifting up one end of the bed.

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Craig heard the voice of his old friend, Jack St. Mark shouting something about 'getting their assorted boozing and gambling on' and raised a brow, unable to help but smirk a little. Well, he was pretty sure the poor bastards down the hall hoping to have a nice quiet vacation weren't going to be happy. He looked back to Edei, who looked less than enthusiastic about the idea of being right across from Legion. Not that he blamed her, since it already looked like it was going to be noisy.

When asked what he thought she did with her free time, the young guitarist cocked his head to the side lightly and seemed to consider that for a moment. "To be honest...I don't know." He told her, having never really thought about it before - or at least not that much - he liked spending some time with her when he got the chance, but that usually included going out to the bar for a drink after a show or some studio work and past that he'd never really thought about what the petite, raven haired bassist did with her time. Weird. "I guess everyone has hobbies. I just never really thought about it." He confessed, lifting a shoulder with a shrug before holding the bag out to her so she could toss it in her room along with the others.

"And me, well...I play video games as well. Internet, going to see shows." He said, with a shrug. "The usual, I guess." Craig concluded with a small laugh and then turned down the hall in search for his own room which appeared to be conveniently close. He doubted that his hobbies were all that exciting to her since she did the exact same things as far as he knew. When he was younger, he used to hunt but that was a long time ago, back when he still lived in Arizona.




"As do I." Liam replied to Alex, who wore the smallest hint of a smile. That didn't surprise him though, he didn't think he'd truly seen her smile - well, except for when she was on the phone with who he assumed could only be her daughter. He'd never asked her a lot of questions, thinking that he ought to respect her privacy since she never seemed keen to share but he still thought that she probably should to have more time with her daughter than she did, since from what he'd gathered, the girl lived with her father and only visited Alex occasionally. "Somehow, I doubt they're going to appreciate us as neighbors." Now, while he could vouch that he and Alex were unlikely to make noise, he could make no promises for Jack (Who had just so quietly announced their arrival) and Raisa or Psychosis. Also, since they were having this little get together, he couldn't say what would happen considering there was likely to be alcohol - and sure enough, as he followed behind his bandmembers he saw Raisa place two jars of moonshine on the table. Moonshine was good, however he had truly been looking forward to a bottle of vodka. Perhaps he'd go out and get some at some point.

Raisa then decided that they were going to need more room and without further ado threw herself at the bed in a mostly failed attempt to move it before inquiring if the Psychosis leader was going to show up, in which case she could just lift the bed with one hand. The thought made Liam's lips quirk up into a slight smile. Not a second later, Jack eagerly declared 'he had this shit' and then he too made his way over and made little success. Liam coughed to hide his laugh but a smile still remained. It was like the damned bed was the sword in the stone.

After mocking Jack's efforts a little, Alex proceeded to take over for the bassist. His brows went up a little as he saw her lift one end of the bed on her own before nodding when she asked him to help her, walking over and taking the other end for her - he wasn't as brawny as two of the Psychosis members he'd seen (The leader and the guitarist), but he still managed to do it with relative ease.

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#, as written by Celedia
Edei laughed at Craig’s shrug after he responded to her query about his own hobbies and when he followed it with a, "The usual, I guess," she nodded. “See? I bet ya twenty bucks even Cormy and Izzie play video games from time to time. I didn’t want anything hardcore while we were on tour but some old school 8-bit fun sounded like just the kind of thing I could get into after a long night.”

The petite bassist cast Craig a grin and she led the way back into the hallway just in time to see Cormy. It looked like the three of them had their rooms all in a row and she tucked her hands into her back pockets while waiting for both men to get their belongings tossed into their rooms. "I think I better find my room, this luggage is getting real heavy,"

“That’ll teach you to pack bricks and dead hookers into your carry-on.” She tsked, laughing almost immediately since she seemed unable to keep a straight face and she cast a look back at the open door at the end of the hallway which she assumed was Crazy McRedhead’s room since all the noise seemed to emanate from within.

“C’mon boys, get your stuff together and let’s go play. I can’t wait to gloat all day tomorrow about how I whooped you in cards!” She barely gave them time to even glance about their rooms though because as soon as they looked even sort of ready, Edei bounded down the hall, spreading her arms wide as soon as she passed through the threshold.

“And Psychosis bestows upon thee their presence.”

Her eyes lit up upon seeing the booze plunked down in the center of the room and she helped herself to one of the jars, uncapping it with a quick twist of her wrist as she found a spot for herself on the floor. Her back pressed against the edge of the bed which was now pushed over against the far wall and she took a swig of the blueberry moonshine before looking around the room at all of the others.

“Wait, we’re going to pass the jar, right? You guys aren’t OCD or anything and need your own glasses
.”

She paused, lips hovering near the rim of the glass in a near-grin as she asked one more time, “Right?”




Raisa abandoned her post after Alex and Liam took over the job of moving the furniture around and she walked over to Jack, patting him upon his back. “Thank you for the attempted assist, Beardly. Now sit and enjoy
.” She pushed him a bit so that he would sit in a position where he could not watch her movements and she took the bag she had most of her clothing stowed away in (including her lingerie and such) and hid it in the last place she’d assume he would look for it
 The shower.

Seriously, why in the fuck would he look in her shower? Though she never would’ve thought she’d ever see a picture of him in Santa lingerie either so perhaps it didn’t even matter if she played the odds.

Pulling the curtain closed to protect her assets, she found her other bag and dug out a pack of playing cards that seemed brand new. Popping it open, she removed the cards, leaving the jokers in the box which she tossed onto her dresser and she sat down opposite of the dark-haired chick from Psychosis whilst shuffling like a pro.

“Okay so here’s the deal
 I can keep it simple which might be easier for you all
” She gestured vaguely with a grin as she continued. “So we can play something easy like five card stud or jacks are better, trips to win
. Or we can go a little more interesting and throw down with some midnight baseball, daytime baseball, 333, queen and what follows, etc etc.”

Pausing, her ADD took over for a minute before clarity crossed her features once again and she returned to the conversation at hand.

“We betting?”

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"That'll teach you to pack bricks and dead hookers into your carry-on," Edei retorted to Cormac's complaint, managing a straight face for all of about a second before she lost it and laughed. The Irishman simply shook his head ruefully. "Like hell. D'you know the overhead costs for shipping your bricks and dead hookers ahead? Honestly, in this economy, I dunno how a brick-and-dead-hooker connoisseur like myself is gonna survive." He brought a sorrowful hand to his face melodramatically, an expression that didn't last that long considering he had forgotten that hand was holding up his trolley case, which fell on his foot and elicited a yelp from the drummer before he scrambled to pick it back up.

"C'mon, boys," Edei fortuitously passed right over Cormac's blunder, casting a glance towards an open door across the hall from which much noise and familiar voices were emanating. "Get your stuff together and let's go play. I can't wait to gloat all day tomorrow about how I whooped you in cards!"

Unfortunately, Cormac had little time to declare that he'd have you all know that he'd been the fucking champion of Pokemon matches back in the day-- and shit, don't even get started on Yu-Gi-Oh, 'cause he coulda gone goddamn professional with that shit if he'd wanted to. No sooner had the last syllable left Edei's lipstick-clad lips than the bassist was just off, bounding almost giddily down the hall towards the wide open door that led into what Cormac could only presume was Crazy McRedhead's hotel room, leaving the drummer and the guitarist standing by, the former with an expression caught between bemusement and amusement.

"Whelp, if we're all in a row, I'm gonna take a wild guess and assume this here's my room." Cormac swaggered on over to the door next to Edei's, confidently sliding the card into the lock and then visibly deflating as the light flashed red. "Or I guess I'll actually look at my room number," he grumbled, glancing at the card just to be sure before heading to the room on the other side of Edei's, sliding his card in and unlocking the door.

Cormy trudged into the room that was gonna be home for the next couple days, and placed his luggage on his bed, before unpacking some shit-- only the essentials, the stuff he felt sacrilegious keeping shoved away in his luggage for too long. Y'know, his The Punisher MAX issues, his The Killing Joke, etc, etc. Ya couldn't just keep that shit stuffed away for too long, after all, lest the spirit of the Joker himself emerge from the pages to correct the blasphemy.

That having been done, he wasted no time in departing his room, heading for the one across the hall. The party seemed to be in all but full swing already: Edei was swigging away at what looked like a jar of moonshine, and the psychotic redhead chick from before was sitting across from her masterfully shuffling a deck of what was very clearly not Pokemon or Yu-Gi-Oh cards, much to Cormac's dismay. Man, what the fuck happened? he wondered glumly as he entered the room. I remember back when 'let's play cards' meant goin' all Magic: The Gathering on a motherfucker. Back when a deck had Charizards and Blastoises, not Jokers and Aces. Alas! What was to be done? He could only hope the redhead actually brought up a game of cards he actually knew how to play...

"-- five card stud--"

"YES," Cormac suddenly all but bellowed on instinct, before glancing around quickly and clearing his throat. "Sorry. I, uh, get really excited about five card stud. I mean, shit, I know it all from poker to--" His mind blanked momentarily on trying to recall another such card game, before he quickly resumed. "-- blackjack, but five card stud's... the funnest... y'feel me?"

He had a nagging suspicion they didn't.