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You are an accountant, and you're having the biggest midlife crisis ever. You have just melted a band of demons masquerading as ACDC, after jumping into their tour bus from a speeding motorcycle. Earlier today, an angel sang as the angriest priest you've ever seen baptized you in communion wine in front of a dumbstruck congregation. He then fished a piece of a young woman's soul out of your head in the creepiest storage unit you've ever been in. That got you a non-comatose DJ for your troubles.

You're on a mission to save Rock and Roll, given to you by the tormented spirits of the great rockers during a dreaming visit to Hell.

The priest plays the drums. The helmeted DJ does live EDM. You play the guitar, sing, and generally rock people's faces off.

You've told the melted band's tour manager that your (un-named) band will pick up ACDC's next scheduled gig. The flat tire on the tour bus has been fixed, although it has no windows - a testament to the rocking that happened within, and ACDC's hangers-on are being driven off in taxis. Everything's loaded up, and you're ready to hit the road.

What will you do on the trip to Albuquerque?

>[]Practice your guitar skills - it's your core competency
>[]Practice singing - it's not like anyone else is doing it
>[]Practice playing it a group - you should get used to it
>[]Practice your stage theatrics and showmanship - flair counts for more than it did in accounting.
>[]Practice a Write-in

Pick 2.
>>
>>34836064
Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Rock+Quest

Twitter (where I announce quest times): https://twitter.com/HaikuDeluge
>>
>>34836064
>[]Practice playing it a group - you should get used to it
>>
[X] Practice as a group
[X] Practice theatrics (this includes band name and theme of the band)
>>
>>34836064
Alright, you're getting this show on the road. There's enough space in the bus to set up the drum set, the keyboard, and all the other crazy stuff the DJ uses. It's clear that you're the only one with a convenient instrument.

And then it's time to rock and roll down the highway. Playing over the wind noise from the blown-out windows is a bit tricky, but you it boils down to turning up a few dials. Getting the DJ and the priest to co-operate is a bit more difficult. They're each used to setting the rhythm themselves, and going for buildups, drops, and crescendos at their own pace.

And someday, you think sorrowfully to yourself as they glare at each other again, you're going to try to add a bassist. Won't that be fun.

You dont' have much trouble playing to and over their rhythms - as long as you don't have to pick which rhythm you're playing to. You are, however, struggling to get used to not starting off and leading every song.

Several hours of jamming brings nightfall upon you. The DJ and the priest are at each other's throats, and you've made it to some town that exists because the highway runs through it. Well, maybe there are a few farms too. The driver says you should stop here for the night.

>[]Get rooms at the town's single hotel
>[]Sleep in the parked tour bus (it's got beds)
>>
Sleep in the tour bus. Wouldn't want our gear being stolen.
>>
>>34836416
>Sleep in the tour bus
>write in: find out hwy they're at one another's throats
>>
>>34836416
>[]Get rooms at the town's single hotel
let's destroy that room, that'll make everyone feel better
>>
>>34836416
No no no. The DJ isn't supposed to set the beat. The DJ is supposed to warp it, moving in between traditional conventions of tempo depending on the mood of whatever song was being played. The Priest's job is to ensure that there IS a beat to play and warp, and not get too caught up in the rhythm to ignore whatever else is happening on stage. The DJ makes it possible to play around the guitar as much as around the drumset.
>>
>>34836416
The path of least resistance and least cost opens wide before you. You'll pay someone with some land - sure to be a lot cheaper than a hotel, and you'll be right here with your instruments, so they won't be stolen. It's a great plan, especially with the bus' broken windows.

You talk it over with the driver, and he agrees. Half an hour later, the bus is parked on some rancher's land, and it's bedtime. Everyone has claimed a room, and the sounds of beds being made shipshape and previous occupants' stuff being stowed sound through the bus.

The driver just reclines his seat - you idly wonder if there's some sort of life support hookup in it that would allow him to remian there forever.

Everything seems peaceful, with a light breeze blowing through the bus. It's definitely time for bed.

However, certain people need something to sleep on. You're going to have to address the problem with your rhythm section, and now's a good time to get started.

>[]Blame one of them (write in)
>[]Call both of them out on it
>[]Ask for an explanation
>[]Define their roles for them
>[]Write-in
>>
>>34836614
Sounds like the DJ has been doing solo EDM stuff, which involves building the rhythm, then loops on top of that, then a melody, then warping it, depending on style.

It's one of the few styles of music where you can actually have full control over the product, and she's losing that.

Makes sense that she'd react badly.
>>
>>34836670
>[]Ask for an explanation
>>
>>34836670
>>[x]Define their roles for them
>>
>>34836670
(1/?)
Having made your bed, you go to collect the priest and the DJ. You find the priest laying, fully clothed, on top of his fully-made bed. The rest of the room is still a wreck, as the previous band left it. The only thing awake about him is his eyes, which follow you as you enter the room.

"We need to have a talk," you say, "this isn't working well."

"We've all got instruments," he says levering himself out of the bed, "and we've got a gig in front of a crowd expecting one of the most successful bands in the world awaiting us. Id' say everything is working wonderfully."

He's got that grin again, and you can't tell if he's being sarcastic, but he's coming, if slowly. You walk over to the DJ's room, and see that she's been much more diligent about cleaning it. There's virtually no trace of the previous band left, and she's busy going over the electronics in her helmet.

"We need to have a talk," you say, "this needs to get better."

"We're about to go play the most hostile crowd I've heard of," she says, straightening up, "we can't hold a rhythm together for more than a minute, and I'm still trying to adjust to the new equipment, you bet it needs to get better!"

But, in the end, she follows you back to the room with the couches, where the priest is waiting. You've still got a gut feeling that having couches in a vehicle is wrong somehow, but they're comfortable.

You sit down in the middle of the couch across from the priest. The DJ hesitates, then goes to sit across from you, shoving the priest over.

"So what," you ask, "is the problem here?"
>>
>>34837208
(2/2)
The exercise is as much psychological as anything else. By forcing them to sit beside each other, you're trying to establish a bond between them. You could attempt to strengthen it even more by setting yourself up as an enemy to both of them, but that could backfire, and fragment the band even more.

You stare at one of them, and then the other. You realize for the first time how much older you are than both of them. The priest is probably in his early thirties, although whatever crazy stuff he's done makes him look a bit older, and the DJ maybe early/mid twenties? You're still not sure about that. You're pushing fifty, and really looking forward to going to be tonight.

Nobody volunteers an answer. Maybe they're just tired. Maybe they don't want to come straight out and say "this numbskull isn't following my beat".

Well, if they're not answering, you'll answer for them.

"You're both used to being the rhythm," you say, "being completely in charge of it. Starting tomorrow, you're going to be playing duets, and switching off who leads on my cue. We're going to make this work. Does that," you finish, trying to look them both in the eyes at once, "make sense?"

They don't respond.

>[]Try to wake up
>[]Go to bed
>[]Shout at them, try to get a reaction
>[]Wait
>[]Write-in
>>
>>34837435
>>[x]Write-in
Wait a bit, and if they still don't react, repeat yourself, except leave off that make sense bit at the end. Gotta establish that authority as the boss of the band.
>>
>see rock quest
>oh yeah, more rockbattling demons
>inter-band drama quest

Damn it, OP.
>>
>>34837435
>[]Wait
play a few notes on your guitar, see if that can inspire them
>>
>>34837435
Without warning, you hit a power chord on your guitar. They jump a bit - seems like they were just drifting off. You stand up.

"Duets. Tomorrow. Prepare Yourselves," you say, then you turn to go back to your room. You hear some comments that might be agreement, and might be snarky back-talk, but you're too tired to care. By the time you make it back to your room, you're pretty sure it's recriminatory yelling again. Fuck having a band - this was easier by yourself. You take off your sadly worse-for-wear guitar and clothes, and go to bed.

You sleep a dreamless, fulfilling sleep until something wakes you up. Groggy, you think you hear some kind of noise?

Roll 1d3

>[]Roll over and go back to sleep - you've earned it
>[]Grab guitar and investigate immediately
>[]Put some clothes on, then grab guitar and investigate
>[]Write-in
>>
Rolled 1 (1d3)

>>34837721
>[]Grab guitar and investigate immediately
>>
Rolled 2 (1d3)

>>34837721
>>[x]Grab guitar and investigate immediately
Best to check it out, can't be too careful in light of recent events.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d3)

>>34837721
>[]Grab guitar and investigate immediately
Let's see what's up
>>
Rolled 1 (1d3)

>>34837721
>[X]Grab guitar and investigate immediately
>>
>>34837721
You shoot a hand out for your guitar and spring out of bed. Considering what you're up against, you can't be too careful.

You peek out of the broken window between the curtains. The noise seems like it's coming from a ways away, traveling through the night air. You see figures under the moonlight in the distance.

It's, what do they call it, that thing underage rural kids do. A pasture party. That's it. They're drinking out in the middle of a pasture and, by the look of it, tipping some cows for good measure. You're sure it's annoying to the rancher, but you can't find it in your heart to think too badly of them.

You go back to bed - the noise isn't a threat.

The next time you wake up, it's morning, and time for the next leg of your journey.

>[]Hold good on your promise of duet practice - and watch
>[]Hold good on your promise of duet practice - and practice something else yourself (guitar, vocals, showmanship)
>[]Write-in
>>
>>34838098
>>[X]Hold good on your promise of duet practice - and watch
I guess we should have an eye on them. Shit has to work.
>>
>>34838098
>[]Hold good on your promise of duet practice - and watch
Try to give pointers I guess. Encourage them to work together.
>>
>>34837749
>>34837755
You guys got lucky: 1 was cow-related shenanigans, 2 was country hooligan shenanigans. The combination was no trouble for you.

>>34838074
>>34838077
I was posting the update when I saw these, and decided not to do a rewrite.

I allow about 10min before I start writing, unless there are virtually no responses. I'll try to work late write-ins in, but this would have required a full rewrite.
>>
>>34838098
>[]Hold good on your promise of duet practice - and watch

>>34838171
was the 3rd one alien related shenanigans
>>
>>34838171
Ah, Sorry, didn't watch the timestamp. Didn't want you to have to do a rewrite, especially in a case like this.
>>
>>34838209
This isn't Sekirei Quest, Anon.

>>34838222
You're fine, I'm just explaining why I went with the tied dice instead of demonic cow attack.
>>
>>34838098
>>[x]Hold good on your promise of duet practice - and watch
>>
>>34838098
You hadn't thought about it lst night, but a hotel's real advantage lies in its facilities. All you've got here is a hose.

The priest's expression is gleeful when he tells you this as you come out of your room. his hair is wet, and you're not sure the word 'shame' has any real meaning to this man.

You haven't showered under a hose since you were a kid, but it's just as fun as you remember. You towel off with a sheet or something from the bus' linen closet, but you don't like the thought of putting on your bloodstained suit again after getting clean.

>[]Put it on. Suits are the best form of clothing ever invented and everyone should wear them.
>[]There are spare sheets, right? TOGA TOGA TOGA
>[]See if you can wear any of Angus Young's spare clothes.
>>
>>34838369
>[]See if you can wear any of Angus Young's spare clothes.
let's see what he has
>>
>>34838369
>>[x]Put it on. Suits are the best form of clothing ever invented and everyone should wear them.
And better than putting on something a demon has worn. Note to self: buy some new clothes with gig profits.
>>
>>34838369
>TOGA TOGA TOGA
We Caligula now

>>34838398
>wanting to look like an overgrown english schoolboy
>>
>>34838369
>[X]Put it on. Suits are the best form of clothing ever invented and everyone should wear them.
Maybe combine it with the not-soaked parts of our suit.
>>
>>34838414
>>34838450
This. Leave off the bloodsoaked parts.
>>
>>34838369
The thought of dressing like a debauched Roman emperor is appealing, and you wonder what the demon's wardrobe was like, but the habit of years does not die easily. You're putting the suit back on again.

Once you look at it, though, you realize that it's really only the shirt that's crusted with blood.

You declare today to be your personal shirtless Monday. Besides, you'll be going through the desert, and that's going to get hot.

The driver steps on the gas, and you're all once again hurtling down the highway. Breakfast time sees the band digging through the vast stock of food and assorted munchies the band had stored. You're shirtless, the DJ has her hair wrapped in a towel, and the priest it wearing a T-shirt instead of his clerical garb. Man, he's got some fine arms.

Then it's time for practice, duets between the two other member of the band.

"Alright," you say, standing in front of the keyboard and drumset, arms crossed over your chest, "when I say your name, you're leading. You've both got to learn to follow." The priest is smiling, but then, he usually is. The DJ is glaring at you.

"DJ, start it off."

You hoped sleeping on it would mellow things out a bit, but, if anything, that's made it worse. Sure, they're swapping the lead on cue, but they're deliberately trying to throw each other off. The hot wind blowing in through the windows is making everyone miserable. The low point is probably when the priest started punching the ceiling during the buildup to a bass drop.

Why can't they just get it together?

By lunchtime, you're all sweating, exhausted, and irritated. There's no way the ex-band's junk food is going to make the situation any better.

>[]You two don't eat until you get this right - Find the biggest, juiciest cheeseburger you can and eat it in front of them
>[]Let's find a fast food joint
>[]Munch munchies and keep going
>[]Write-in
>>
>>34838778
>[]You two don't eat until you get this right - Find the biggest, juiciest cheeseburger you can and eat it in front of them
same thing for the drinks
>>
>>34838778
>[]Let's find a fast food joint

Get something cold to cool everyone off. Eating is also nice.
>>
>>34838778
>>[x]Let's find a fast food joint
Let's find a WacDonard's
>>
>>34838778
ask the dj what her name is
we know the priests it john James if i remember correctly
>>
>>34838778
Also what the fuck is our name
>>
>>34839075
Aren't we pretty sure that's an alias, though?

>>34839095
>implying anyone needs a name
>>
>>34839129
we need a personal name and a band name for interviews
>>
>>34839159
A band name, yes. A personal name however? I do not believe this to be necessary.
>>
>>34839181
ok how about this scenario
we are speaking to . . . form the band . . .
>>
>>34839208
We are speaking to lead singer/frontman of the band (insert band name)
>>
>>34839246
but we have an ex-wife and kids they need names as well
>>
>>34839208
>we are speaking to the lead guitarist from the new, nameless band everyone's been talking about
>>
>>34838778
You briefly consider using food deprivation coupled with making them watch you eat a delicious cheeseburger as motivation to improve, but you're pretty sure that would send one or both of them over the edge.

You tell the driver to stop at a fast food joint in the next town.

"Alright," you tell the band, all two members of it, "we're taking a lunchbreak."

"We should break you," the DJ says, "were you a foreman on the pyramids or something?"

"No," you say, turning toward the door, "the pyramids' bricks were laid straight. Let's get something cold to drink."

You troop out into the bright sun, across the hot pavement, and into the McDonald's. The cashier takes one look at you, with your bare chest, rumpled hair, and beaten-up guitar and says "No shirt, no shoes, no service!"

Well, damn.

You hand some cash to the priest and ask him to get you something as you leave the restaurant and head back to the tour bus.

"Throw you out, did they?" the driver asks with the tone of someone who's seen it all before. He's leaning against the side of the bus, looking at a paper, very relaxed.

"Yeah."

>[]What kind of crazy stuff have you seen?
>[]Is this kind of friction usual in bands?
>[]How come you're driving for us, after we wasted your old band?
>[]Write-in
>>
>>34839513
>[]What kind of crazy stuff have you seen?
tell us your stories, driver
>>
>>34839513
>Is this kind of friction usual in bands?
>>
>>34839513
>>[x]What kind of crazy stuff have you seen?
>>
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>>34839513
"So what kind of crazy stuff have you seen?" you ask the driver.

"Once I was driving up north, in the winter," he says, "and this band, I'm not naming any names, gets it in their head to play ice hockey. So they crack the windows, turn down the AC all the way, and dump all the bottled water on the floor. Give it a bit, and the carpet's frozen slick. And they played ice hockey, thought it was hilarious. Of course, they were from the south, so it was all new to them."

That doesn't sound like any story you've ever heard before about a band on tour, but it's interesting.

"Do bands usually have friction like this going on?" you ask.

"Yeah," the driver says, stroking his beard, "it happens. Usually either gets violent and then its over, or it festers the whole tour and then someone leaves. I wouldn't worry too much, though, the three of you are new and just figuring out how to get along."

As he finished, the priest and the DJ come out with several bags. They hand one to the driver and another to you - there's a big burger in yours, and you're starving. You pull it out and start eating.

The burger crunches as you bite into it, and a horrible sensation fills your mouth. You didn't know it was even possible to put that much salt on a burger. You spit out the mouthful, spit a couple more times, and glare around.

The DJ and the priest are both looking at you bemusedly.

Finally, the DJ asks "did they put too many pickles on your order or something?"

That's the kind of thing you expect to hear from the priest, though. You look at him, and he's grinning as if he'd said it. Even the driver is cracking a smile.

You open the burger and scrape a snowdrift of salt off onto the ground. Hopefully that'll make it edible. By the time you're done, everyone else is back in the bus.

>[]Make an issue about the burger
>[]Don't make an issue about the burger
>>
>>34840196
>Don't make an issue about the burger
Children will be children
>>
>>34840196
>[]Don't make an issue about the burger
naah.
>>
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>>34840196
>priest's face when
>>34840248
This
>>
>>34840196
>>[x]Don't make an issue about the burger
>>
>>34840196
The real man way of handling this would have been to keep eating it nonchalantly while staring at them in the eyes
>>
>>34840320
We're an accountant, we're not a real man.
>>
>>34840196
They want to have their fun at your expense, they can have their fun at your expense. At least you know they can work together on something.

You're back on the highway, and everybody's chowing down. The food is greasy and generic, but it's exactly what you need right now. Well, it would be if it wasn't twice as salty as it should be.

Then it's back to duet practice. This goes markedly better than before. Sure, they're still competing, still challenging each other to keep up with strange beats and fast switches, but it's much friendlier now.

By midafternoon, you think they've got it down. They still toss a few insults during breaks, but those sound more like backhanded compliments than the true denigrations from earlier.

>[]Start playing along with them
>[]Practice showmanship
>[]Practice vocals
>[]Practice guitar
>[]Write-in
>>
>>34840604
>>[x]Start playing along with them
Let's try it out as a band. And maybe we need to decide what to play at the gig.
>>
>>34840604
>[]Start playing along with them
the rest should come naturally
>>
>>34840669
>>34840677
These
>>
I remember last time our guitar got charred and paint was peeling, we need to fix that. And paint four stars/crosses/whatever on it.
>[x]Start playing along with them and realise that now you can't keep with them, blame self
>>
>>34840604

It's finally time. Now you can play as a band.

In the middle of one of their duets, you come in over the top of their rhythm without warning. You've heard their entire practice, and you've been thinking about how to play with them the whole time. With them backing you, you can hold long, soaring chords without the song losing speed, and you can hammer and pluck your way through the most intricate of riffs without missing a beat.The combinations of sound you can make are wonderful and strangely shaped sonic creations that writhe out the broken windows and into passing vehicles.

Getting here was a pain, but it's finally becoming worth it. Time slips by in a confusion of riffs, beats, arpeggios, swiftly changing tempos, and completely improvised lyrics as you rock down the highway.

Before you know it, you're in Albuquerque, and you've got a nice suite of hotel rooms booked here. The show's tomorrow night, so you've got some time to kill.

>[]Repair guitar
>[]Claim Angus Young's guitar as your own
>[]Practice showmanship
>[]Plan for the show
>[]Build hype on the internet
>>
>>34841296
>[]Repair guitar
>[]Claim Angus Young's guitar as your own
>>
>>34841296
>Write in
FUSE ANGUS YOUNG'S GUITAR INTO OURS
>>
>>34841296
we should try angus's guitar, yes
>[]Plan for the show
maybe the DJ can do nice things with the pyrotechnics while he plays
>>
>>34841296
>[x] Repair guitar
>>
>>34841296
>>[x]Repair guitar
>>[x]Plan for the show
>>
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>>34841385
Can we do this? This would be awesome.
>>
>[x]Repair our guitar
>[x]Ask priest if demon filth can inhabit the guitar, if no, try >>34841385 CAREFULLY, if yes, purge it by fiery sacrifice
>>
>>34841296

>>34841385
>>34841449
by the nine, YES

changing >>34841404 to these
>>
>>34841449
>>34841385
Lets try this.
>>
>>34841449
I don't even know what one of those would sound like. Anyone got a good example of a song using a double-necked guitar?
>>
>>34841693
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dO0gIYbvDS0
>>
>>34841693
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jY8wyKuLY2k
>>
>>34841782
Notice how the top neck is used as a MIDI controller
>>
Grandpas duitars, too!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=van9qkFfNx8
>>
>>34841296
(1/2)

The rooms are nice, and the hotel clerk doesn't have a problem with your shirtlessness. In fact, you think she might be eyeing you up as you walk through the lobby in gray suit pants, with the air conditioning blowing on your bare chest and a nearly destroyed guitar slung across your back. She's not the only one staring - you're not exactly normal, even for Albuquirky. The priest with the strange tattoos on his arm and Angus Young's red guitar slung across his back is attracting his share of looks, and the DJ is getting a few stares just because she looks too normal to be with you two.

Once you get settled into the room, you take stock.

Your guitar is on its last legs. While it allows you a lot of freedom, playing without a hookup takes a toll on your instrument, especially once lightning starts sparking from your fingertips. Its paint has been destroyed, the wood is cracking in places, and there are electrical burn marks on it.

Now that you've got some free time, you're think about getting it repaired, or getting a new one. You had the priest bring Angus' guitar so you could try it out.

It's laying on the bed, with you and the priest looking at it. You can hear a shower in the distance - the DJ didn't use the hose this morning.

"So," you ask him, "has it been corrupted by the demon?"

He looks at you, then grins and starts laughing. "The dust on your shoes was probably once part of a tower built to drag Heaven down to Earth, or a pyramid meant to send a king to the gods, or maybe a stone where they sacrificed men to horrors with the heads of animals. Are your shoes corrupted? It's all just stuff."

Well, that's helpful. The paint on the red guitar was singed by the demon's Hellfire, but that's cosmetic damage.

You call up the tour manager.
>>
>>34842509
"So I hear you made it to Albuquerque in one piece," the voice says, "show's tomorrow, need anything?"

"Who's the best luthier in the city?" You can't remember where you picked up the term for someone who makes guitars, but you're happy you can sound like you know what you're talking about.

"Godo's shop is probably the best place," the voice tells you, and gives you the address, "break something?"

"Something like that," you say, and try to think of anything else to ask.

>[]Info about the concert
>[]Who is the voice?
>[]Best place to party hard in the city
>[]Write-in
>>
>>34842542
>Info about the concert
>Who is the voice?
>>
>>34842542
>>[x]Who is the voice?
>>
>>34842542
>[]Who is the voice?
>[]Info about the concert
>>
>>34842542
>[x] Who is the voice?
>>
>>34842542
"What can you tell me about the concert?" you ask.

"Big venue," the voice says, "some pyrotechnics, and no opening act. Also," the voice gets dramatically softer, and you have to strain to hear it, "they still think they're going to see ACDC. There's been a," the voice pauses, "intercommunication."

You can read between the lines. Someone's regretting giving you this opportunity, and you're being set up to get ripped apart by ACDC's fans. your paranoia whispers that security won't prevent the more violent ones from storming the stage. Damn.

You feel that you're not going to get anymore information on this point, but you do get contact information for the pyrotechnic crew.

"So who are you anyway?" you ask, one last question before you get off the call.

"I'm the tour manager," the voice says, "I yell at people over the phone and write checks. Maybe we'll meet up someday, if you survive this. Good night."

Well, that's not ominous at all, you think, as you put the phone away.

The priest and the DJ are lounging around the room. Honestly, they've earned it, after the trip they had today. They look up at you when the call ends.

>[]Do either of you have experience with pyrotechnics?
>[]The crowd thinks we're ACDC
>[]Someone's got it in for us
>[]Write in
>>
>>34843158
Good news, everyone! We probably won't survive the show. Has any of you ever worked with pyrotechnics?
>>
>>34843158
>[]Do either of you have experience with pyrotechnics?

We Rammstein now
>>
>>34843158
>>[x]Do either of you have experience with pyrotechnics?
>>[x]Someone's got it in for us
Be ready to hightail it from the concert of worst comes to worst.
>>
>>34843158
>[x]Do either of you have experience with pyrotechnics?
>>
>>34843158
"Have either of you worked with pyrotechnics?"

The priest's eyes go glassy and he says "WWII Flammenwerfer. Romania. Lucky it still had juice."

There's obviously a story there, but you can't exactly ask a guy with a look like that on his face to tell you the rest of the story.

The he gets a massive smile on his face and says "those vampires screamed for hours."

Alright, he has experience, just not the kind of experience you're looking for. You turn toward the DJ, who seems tense. "What about you?"

"I've done a lot of lights," she says, "but no fire. Dance clubs don't really have the hots for it."

You're really not sure whether trusting the priest with the pyrotechnics is a good idea, but he's definitely seen the damage they can do.

"Someone's got it in for us," you say, "the crowd still thinks ACDC is playing. This could get pretty dangerous..."

>[]...so be ready to run
>[]...so be ready to fight
>[]...so we're going to wear masks and dress as ACDC

SEPARATE QUESTION:

>[]Give pyrotechnic crew info to the priest
>[]Give pyrotechnic crew info to the DJ
>>
>>34843158
>[]Do either of you have experience with pyrotechnics?
we're going to need some flamethrowers for the ones who want to get too close... for defense only, of course
>>
>>34843626
>[]...so be ready to fight

>[]Give pyrotechnic crew info to the priest
>>
>>34843626
>[]...so we're going to wear masks and dress as ACDC

It'll be like the bank robbery in Point Break

>[]Give pyrotechnic crew info to the priest

Why wouldn't you trust Brotomine?
>>
>>34843626
Dress-up
Priest
>>
>>34843626
>[x]Escape to realms beyond the night; // Dream, can't you show me the light?
Ask real Agnus for guidance in your dream. If no response, bluff time
>[x]...so we're going to wear masks and dress as ACDC

>[x]Give pyrotechnic crew info to the DJ
>>
>>34843626
>...so be ready to fight
Hiding yourself? Running away? That shit ain't metal.
>>
>>34843626
>>[x]...so be ready to run
Because yeah we can fite ten thousand angry fans.
>>[x]Give pyrotechnic crew info to the priest
>>
>>34843815
Woo, dream sequence
>>
>>34843626
(1/?)
"...so we're going to wear masks and dress as ACDC. With luck," you say, "they'll think it's funny. Be ready to fight too, in case they don't."

"We don't' have enough members," the DJ says, "and we don't' play the right instruments."

"Yes," you agree, "but we'll have the most genuine costumes. Can you see about getting us the masks? Your helmet is very impressive."

"Sure," she says, "I'll get the masks for this completely hare-brained plan. And if you think we can take on an arena full of angry fans, you're crazier than you look. And you look pretty crazy, with that cut on your forehead and no shirt."

You give the priest the contact info for the pyrotechnic crew, and head out to the luthier's to see if he can do your repairs. The priest hands you a bundle as you leave - it's some lumpy things tied up in a pillowcase with an old guitar string, and a note saying "materials".
>>
>>34844023
(2/?)
Godo's shop smells of sawdust, wood glue, and metal. The room you walk into is paneled in oiled wood and decorated with guitars hanging form pegs and hooks all over the walls. It gives a very claustrophobic feel to the room, since you feel like a wrong move could send a priceless piece of art crashing to the concrete floor. There's an amplifier with a hookup sitting on the counter - looks like you can test out the merchandise in the shop.

You're pretty sure the boy behind the counter is far too young to be Godo himself, although there's some sawdust clinging to his clothes. You can see a workshop through the open door behind the counter.

You walk up to the counter, two guitars slung across your back. "I've got a special project, kid," you say, "is Godo in?"

"Let me check," he says, and scurries off into the workshop. You look around the shop. There are all kinds of guitars, basses, and even a couple of ukuleles. There's everything from plain, basic guitars to a matched guitar and bass pair beautifully inlaid with golden floral designs.
>>
>>34844046
(3/3)
After a while, the kid comes back. "Follow me," he tells you, "I'll take you to Godo."

The workshop is full of tables, tools, and sawdust. One entire wall is taken up by planks of wood. You notice two pegs high on one wall, spaced too far apart for any instrument you've ever seen. Did Godo make oars once?

Godo turns out to be a short, bearded man drawing patterns on a piece of wood. The design is extreme, with swooping spikes and other crazy things that bely the man's apparent age.

Or maybe, you think, it's a commission, and not his usual style.

"This is the man with the project," the kid says.

Godo turns to look at you. His eyes are piercing, and his beard could challenge Einstein's hair to an angry-off. "What do you want?"

>[]I need a guitar repaired
>[]I have two guitars I need combined
>>
>>34844092
Both of the above options.
>>
>>34844092
I need a guitar made of steel, to withstand High Voltage rock'n'roll
>>
>>34844092
>[]I have two guitars I need combined
>>
>>34844220
(cont.)

You can see what I've done to the one I've been using lately.
>>
>>34844092
>>[x]I have two guitars I need combined
"And make it so it can withstand lightning and hellfire."
>>
How are we going to afford to combine them, repair them, and reinforce them?
>>
>>34844341
Bill it to the tour manager, of course. He's the one that signs checks after all.
>>
>>34844092
"I have two guitars I need combined," you say, "and I need them ready to play by tomorrow night."

"Combined, huh?" he says, "and a rush job too. Let me have a look at them - put them on the worktable over there."

You carefully lay your guitar and Angus' side by side on the table, and put the bundle down beside them. Godo takes one look at them, then turns to you and says "ACDC's supposed to play a show tomorrow night, and you show up with Angus Young's guitar and want me to combine it with another guitar before his show?"

>[]I dueled him in a Rock-Off for it
>[]Empty the bundle
>[]I'm on a mission from the real Angus
>>
>>34844528
>>[x]I dueled him in a Rock-Off for it
We lost that rock-off though...
>>[x]Empty the bundle
>>
>>34844528
>Yes
>>
>>34844528
Bundle
Mission
>>
Why can't we just stick with our guitar?
Every legendary item of rock starts somewhere, we don't need to fuse anything to it.
>>
>>34844528
>[]Empty the bundle
>[]I'm on a mission from the real Angus
>>
>>34844808
Because we dueled Demon Angus Young and electrocuted his dick. This is our trophy, and we intend to show it to our enemies and watch the brown stains appear in their pants.
>>
>>34844808
If we keep it like it is, soon there is going to be no more guitar
>>
>>34844861
We could just have him repair it.

When that came up earlier, the thread thought that combining them both would be awesome.
>>
>>34844845
Trophies are for hanging on the wall
>>
>>34844904
Depends on the trophy. An actual trophy, you put on the mantlepiece. But a trophy from a slain enemy? You wield his sword, you add his scalp to your scalp cloak that you should have, and you turn his foreskin into your new sword's sheath.
>>
>>34844937
That's a lot of foreskin
>>
>>34844962
You can make a loop to hold the sword in. A proper sheath may require you to skin the whole dick, and stretch it somehow.
>>
>>34844528
"Yes," you say meeting his stare confidently, and empty the bundle onto the table.

Malformed skulls, horns still attached, and assorted other smaller bones roll out onto the table.

The kid jumps back a bit. Godo draws in his breath sharply, and asks you, "young man, are these demon bones?"

"Yes," you say, thinking that it's been a long time since anyone called you a 'young man', "they're from the demons who have been impersonating ACDC for years."

Godo picks up one of the skulls and holds it up to the light. "I could do great work with this. I could repair your burnt-out guitar. I could make it withstand your playing. I could make one of the greatest guitars in history." The whole time he speaks, he's turning it, studying it, rapping on it with his knuckles.

"I could also bind your guitar and Angus' together," he says, picking up each of the small bones one by one, "but I'm afraid that uniting a proven guitar with a long history to a new guitar would make for an unstable union. It would be powerful, perhaps incredibly so," he says, turning to stare you in the face again, "but deeply unbalanced, and might break in a spectacular fashion, or worse."

>[]Demonbone-reinforced Guitar - can withstand your playing, tailored to you and your powers, YOUR GUITAR
>[]Fusion Guitar - same as Demonbone-reinforced Guitar, perhaps more powerful, but inherently unstable, NOT PURELY YOUR GUITAR
>>
>>34845135
Let's go with Demonbone. The legend of Angus Young has ended. The legend of (insert our name here) has now begun.
>>
>>34845135
>[x]Demonbone-reinforced Guitar - can withstand your playing, tailored to you and your powers, YOUR GUITAR
>>
>>34845135
>[]Fusion Guitar - same as Demonbone-reinforced Guitar, perhaps more powerful, but inherently unstable, NOT PURELY YOUR GUITAR
>>
>>34845135
>[]Demonbone-reinforced Guitar - can withstand your playing, tailored to you and your powers, YOUR GUITAR
>>
>>34845135
Our guitar. We shall call her Demonbane.
On another note, I hoped that he'd give us his lifetime masterpiece, with that name and appearance. He does wear a bandana, right?
>>
>>34845135
>>[x]Fusion Guitar - same as Demonbone-reinforced Guitar, perhaps more powerful, but inherently unstable, NOT PURELY YOUR GUITAR
Risky, but we've already made other risky moves. This will be no exception.
>>
>>34845297
Did you see the empty pegs on the wall?

If you're strong enough, you can flawlessly play any Dragonforce song on it.
>>
>>34845135
>>[]Demonbone-reinforced Guitar - can withstand your playing, tailored to you and your powers, YOUR GUITAR
>>
>>34845135
Demonbone

By right of Conquest this Axe is Ours! It is only right that it be adorned by the bones of our enemy.
>>
>>34845297
No, Demonbane shall not be our guitar.
Demonbane shall be our band.
>>
>>34845297
>We shall call her Demonbane.
Only if the guitar is able to transform into a loli.
>>
>>34845345
No, our band shall be Retributor.
>>
>>34845374
I'm afraid I don't understand the reference
>>
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>>34845374
MFW
>>
>>34845333
Now I'm wondering what a guitar that large would look like
>>
>>34845395
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demonbane
>>
>>34845135
>[x]Demonbone-reinforced Guitar - can withstand your playing, tailored to you and your powers, YOUR GUITAR

All rockers must heed the words a man who makes their tools
>>
>[x] Maybe, drumsticks too? If there's enough.
>>
so we are getting a special pick to right?
>>
>>34845135
>>[]Demonbone-reinforced Guitar - can withstand your playing, tailored to you and your powers, YOUR GUITAR
>>
>>34845135
"Just reinforce my guitar, then," you say, dispelling tantalizing visions of a double guitar from your mind, "how much is it going to cost?"

"Any unused demonbone," Goto tells you, "now take Angus' guitar and get going! I've got an axe to repair."

You sling the red guitar back over your shoulder and leave the shop, while Goto gives excited orders to his apprentice.

It's 7 or 8 at night, not too early to turn in before the show, but not too late to do anything you've got a hankering to do in Albuquerque.

>[]Go back to the hotel
>[]Write-in
>>
>>34845648
>Practice, make yourself popular with any fans that might be about, it could help tomorrow
>>
>>34845648
>Go find a library, sit down and read a nice quiet book
>>
>>34845648
practice, don't try to push too hard, but do enough to "feel the magic" and possibly get noticed a little
>>
>>34845648
>Find a park and sit on the stereotypical bench by the pond.
>Contemplate what rock truly is, and what it means to you.
>>
>>34845648

Buy a new shirt
>>
>>34845803
Seconding
>>
>>34845843
Who needs a shirt?
Shirtless suit to is going to be our thing
>>
>>34845995
We are a chubby shirtless 50 something rock god
>>
>>34846049
...without a name.
>>
>>34846049
Wasn't it mentioned a couple threads ago that we'd started weightlifting in the wake of our divorce? I assume we're /fit/.

And we've apparently been getting some looks since abandoning the shirt.
>>
>>34846093
A name just holds us down, all we shall be known as is "The Accountant".
>>
>>34846110
I missed that part
>>
>>34846110
Perhaps the QM can tell us. Are we swole, or are we not?
>>
>>34845648
You're not exactly sure what you want to do, but you know you don't want to go back to the hotel just yet.

You wander around and eventually find a park, with an inviting bench by a pond. You sit down, and wonder what rock means to you.

Sure, before you were given the power you listened to some - it's what you grew up with. You know who all the greats are, and you'd list it as your favorite musical genre, but over the years you've lost touch with it, and you don't listen to much music in general. But now you've got the power, you're rock's frontman.

Why are you doing it?

Is it because they asked? Because you could do something for those trapped in Hell as a result of bargains they made for themselves? Or are you just living a long-forgotten fantasy - what teenager doesn't want to become a rock god? Is this really just a midlife crisis, with some extra angels and demons tossed on top for flavor?

Why do you rock? What's it to you?

>[]Doing the Right Thing
>[]Meeting the Right People
>[]Look, you're just doing it because you like it, you don't need to psychoanalyze yourself
>[]Because Rock is worth doing
>[]Write-in

>>34846200
You're swole enough that you look good shirtless. You're not hueg, though. You got into weightlifting on the rebound from the divorce, and just kinda stuck with it.
>>
>>34846338
>Because Rock is worth doing
>>
>Because Rock is Worth Doing
>>
>>34846338
>>[x]Because Rock is worth doing
And a rock god's gotta do it.
>>
>>34846338
>[x]Look, you're just doing it because you like it, you don't need to psychoanalyze yourself
but deep down we know that it's
>[x]Because Rock is worth doing
Before we had little purpose, our wife had left use, we were alone, old and had very little to care about. But Rock has given us a purpose and we shall repay it in turn
>>
>>34846338
>because of a mid-life crisis
>>
>>34846338
>[]Look, you're just doing it because you like it, you don't need to psychoanalyze yourself
>[]Because Rock is worth doing
like killing two birds with one stone
>>
>>34846338
>Rock for the Rock God!
>Guitars for the Guitar Throne!
>>
>>34846338
(1/?)
Your rock because Rock is worth doing, and someone's gotta be the rock god who does it. It's not the people you gather, not the angels singing for you, it's not even because you enjoy it.

Sure, men of your age do tend to sudddenly make rather large changes to their lives, but your divorce was your midlife crisis, or so you tell yourself.

Thinking about Rock makes you want to try Angus' guitar out, but you don't want to mess it up, so you quickly run through every lead part you can remember from ACDC's songs without using your power. They sound tinny, almost silly played with no power on an electric guitar. Little ghost whispersof noise, nothing like their fully-powered versions. It's a long way to the top, isn't it?

You eventually get up and head back to the hotel. By the time you get back in, everyone else has gone to bed.

That's good, you think as you tumble into your own bed. You're all going to need to be rested tomorrow.
>>
>>34846720
(2/2)
Again, you sleep dreamlessly. By the time you wake up, the priest and the DJ are nowhere to be seen.

>[]Laze about - you need all the rest you can get
>[]Shower, put on a bathrobe, and hit the complimentary breakfast
>[]Practice on Angus' guitar
>[]Write-in
>>
>>34846788
>>[]Shower, put on a bathrobe, and hit the complimentary breakfast
don't forget to masturbate
>>
>>34846788
>[]Practice on Angus' guitar
>have a small breakfast (beer and a smoke)
>>
>>34846788

Shower, robe, and breakfast.

Its the most important meal of the day after all
>>
>>34846788
>[]Shower, put on a bathrobe, and hit the complimentary breakfast

Need dat food if we're gonna get anything done.
>>
>>34846788
Shower
>>
>>34846788
>[x]Shower, put on a bathrobe, and hit the complimentary breakfast
>>
>>34846788
>>[]Shower, put on a bathrobe, and hit the complimentary breakfast
>>
>>34846788
You shower and walk down to breakfast in a bathrobe. This, this is luxury.

You're happy that the hotel is low-class enough to have a complimentary breakfast instead of a first-floor restaurant. You grab cereal, bagel & cream cheese, and a banana. Two bananas and an orange, actually. They're healthy for you, will go bad if they're just left there, and don't' look like the most popular item.

Unfortunately, the breakfast seating area isn't very large, and a couple of tourist families are taking up about half of it. The only free seats left are across from people.

One is across from a stubbly, dark-haired man in a suit who habitually reaches for his pocket every so often and pulls his hand back. He's either thinking of texting someone, or is quitting smoking. You'd place him in his thirties.

Another seat is across from a blonde in a sundress. She's brewing tea in her own kettle with the hotel's hot water. Again, you're bad with judging female ages, but you think she's in her mid twenties? You're almost surprised she doesn't have a kid with her - she seems like the motherly type.

The last available seat is across from a man with long, gray hair and a matching mustache. He keeps checking his watch as he sips his coffee, as if he's waiting for someone. He's easily a well-preserved sixty.

>[]Sit across from the stubbly guy
>[]Sit across from the blonde
>[]Sit across from the old man
>>
>>34847398
>[X]Sit across from the blonde
It is time that a virgin sacrifice to the new metal god....by which I actually mean it's time we get laid.
>>
>>34847398
>[]Sit across from the old man
all the epic stories start with "there was this old man..."
>>
>>34847398
>>[]Sit across from the old man
Old men are always fun.
Maybe he can be our bass
>>
>>34847398
>>[x]Sit across from the blonde
Haha, as if we wouldn't stare at some blonde if we have a choice.
>>
>>34847398
>Go sit with a tourist family
>>
>>34847398
>Old dude
>>
>>34847398
You walk over to the old man. "Is this seat taken?"

"Now it is," he says, smiling as you pull out the seat and sit down, "what brings you here?"

>[]I'm on a mission from God
>[]Business
>[]Pleasure
>[]Write-in
>>
>Old Crusty
Hes about the age that he could be in town for the band
>>
>>34847818
>Pleasure.
Here for the ACDC concert.
>>
>>34847818
>[]Write-in
>rock itself
>>
>>34847818
>[X]Write-in
"The powers that be empowered me and sent me on a quest to spread the blessings of metal. You wouldn't happen to play bass would you? We need a bass player....."
>>
> all of the above
>>
>>34847818
"I'm here for Rock itself," you say, and stir your cereal, "you wouldn't happen to be, or know, a good bassist?"

Man, you thought the priest had a creepy grin. This guy looks like he's been practicing is for longer than the priest's been alive.

"Well," he says, "I heard ACDC was playing tonight, so I assume Cliff Williams is in town. But I don't really know him, per se."

"So why are you here?" you ask him.

"Business," he says, looking at you through hooded eyes, "or what's left of it at my age. When you're as old as I am, your job had better be something you enjoy. I do personnel consulting."

>[]Personnel consulting?
>[]How do you think it would go down if another band crashed ACDC's show?
>[]What's worth doing in this town?
>>
>>34848213
Also,

>[]Write-in

But you should know that by now.
>>
>>34848213
>[]Personnel consulting?
>>
File: when in doubt.gif (1.27 MB, 480x320)
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>>34848213
>[X]How do you think it would go down if another band crashed ACDC's show?
Let's upstage the wee cunts.
>>
> Personal Consulting?
> does he offer group rates for struggling newly forged bands?
>>
>>34848213
>>[]Personnel consulting?
>>
>>34848213
"Personnel consulting?" you ask, "have you done it for bands before?"

He looks at you, really looks, for almost a full second, then asks "what, are you a band manager? You seem like an accountant, but you keep talking about Rock. Bands aren't really my specialty, although I'll probably hit the concert tonight, unless someone outside offers me a good deal for my ticket. Good day."

He gathers his coffee and newspaper and gets up, very confidently for a man of his apparent age.

You begin eating your breakfast in earnest, since you no longer have to pause to talk. After a while, you begin to smell something nice. You wonder what it is, and finally realize that it's tea. You turn and see that she's pulling the tea strainer out of the kettle. She catches your eye and winks at you.

>[]That's an invitation.
>[]You suddenly have much better things to do, like take a cold shower, or practice your Rock
>[]Write-in
>>
>>34848705
>[]That's an invitation.
well, of course
>>
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>>34848705
>[X]That's an invitation.
She's looking for the cock. Who are we to refuse it to her?
>>
>>34848705
>[]That's an invitation.
>>
>>34848705
>[]You suddenly have much better things to do, like take a cold shower, or practice your Rock

Sex can come later.
>>
Need a Descartes shooped with a guitar and shit.
give her the riff
>>
Remember to use /fit/-approved pickup lines.

>Ayy bby, u wan sum fuck
>Are u from Iraq, cause u gotta baghdad ass up
>>
>>34849021
I got Rene made to look sort of like Nightwing by Microsoft Paint. Is that close enough?
>>
>>34848705
That's an invitation
>>
>>34848705
You get up, dump the detritus of your finished breakfast into the garbage can, and grab a styrofoam cup. By the time you're finished with that, the stubble guy is sitting across from the blonde.

Wait, what?

You pull your chair from earlier over to their table and sit down.

The blonde turns toward you and says "it's terrible to brew a whole pot and have to waste it at the end. There's no way I could drink this much tea myself."

She sure seems chipper this morning. She's like an incarnate beam of sunlight, and everything seems a bit brighter, a bit warmer around her. She's also, you remind yourself, around half your age.

"Then pour me some," you say, and put your glass on the table. She smiles as she pours the tea, and if she seemed like a sunbeam before, she's then entire balmy summer day now. Of course, some of that warmth is probably from the steaming tea she's pouring you, but you aren't thinking about that.

No, you're thinking about her tits. Specifically the way they sway as she leans forward to pour the tea, their size, and the almost visibly-straining bra barely holding them back. You're lucky she's concentrating so hard on pouring the tea, and you're careful to look away before she's done. You're a lot braver when you've got your hands on the long, hard neck of a guitar.

>[]So, what brings you here?
>[]Attempt terrible pickup line
>[]Examine the stubble guy
>[]Write-in
>>
>>34849359
>>[]Examine the stubble guy
I don't want to turn this into shit.
>>
>>34849359
>[]So, what brings you here?
>>
>>34849359
>[]So, what brings you here?
>>
>>34849359
"So," you ask, as she pours tea for the stubble guy, "what brings you here?"

"I'm going to the ACDC concert," she says, putting the teapot back down in the center of the table.

"I'm here on business, unfortunately," the stubble guy says. His voice sounds oddly familiar to you. "But the concert sounds fun. Going with friends?"

"No," she says, "just me. My friends aren't really into 'old guys yelling along to ugly guitars'," she smiles as she says it, "but I've always thought the older Rock was better."

>[]There's no arguing with that
>[]How would you like to get a backstage pass to that concert?
>[]Ask the stubble guy what his business is
>[]Write-in
>>
>>34849734
>[]How would you like to get a backstage pass to that concert?
>>
>>34849734
>[X]How would you like to get a backstage pass to that concert?
We do have a backstage pass to give, right?
>>
>>34849734
>There's no arguing with that
my shadowruns are tingleing
>>
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>>34849734
I have the baddest of bad feelings about giving out a backstage pass.

This option is so many levels of bait it's not even funny.

>[]There's no arguing with that
>>
>>34849818
We do now.
>>34849734
>[]How would you like to get a backstage pass to that concert?
>>
>>34849854
In before she's a demon
>>
>>34849734
>[]There's no arguing with that
>>
>>34849854
>>34849861
>>34849970
>this
>>
>>34849734
You briefly consider offering her a backstage pass on the spot, but you think it's best to respond to her admirable sentiment.

"There's no arguing with that," you say, as you raise your styrofoam cup to your lips. The tea smells wonderful, but it's extremely hot, as you find out when you attempt to sip it. You're going to let it cool off for a bit before you try that again.

"No," the stubble guy says, "but the guys who made it are getting old, and there's nobody coming to take their place. Rock is dying, dismembered into a thousand little genres."

"Well," the blonde says, "at least we still have their recordings forever."

It dawns on you that this is exactly why you were sent. Every complaint is a half-formed prayer, and you are their answer. You blow on your tea, uncertain of whether to blow your cover.

>[]Reveal that you are the true savior of Rock
>[]Save it for the concert - you know she'll be there to see you
>[]Write-in
>>
>>34850325
>[]Save it for the concert - you know she'll be there to see you
Well, enjoy the concert
>>
>[]Save it for the concert - you know she'll be there to see you

Once you survive your first concert, you can start getting groupies
>>
>>34850325
>[]Save it for the concert - you know she'll be there to see you

maybe add a small " i bet they won't disappoint you tonight" or something similar
>>
>>34850325
>[]Save it for the concert - you know she'll be there to see you
>>
>>34850325
>[]Save it for the concert - you know she'll be there to see you
>>
>>34850325
"Enjoy the concert," you say, "there won't be many more opportunities to see old acts like ACDC - they're a dying breed." You could swear you saw stubble guy shoot you a look after that one.

"I'm sure I will," she says, sipping her tea, "I've been looking forward to this for months."

"I'm sure they won't disappoint you tonight," you say, and try your tea. You find it cooled enough to sip without burning your tongue.

"I've heard the desert air and the elevation can cause problems with instruments," the stubble guys says, and that kicks off a discussion of the implements of rock and roll.

The three of you sit and talk about this and that until the blonde excuses herself, saying she has some shopping to do, since she's finally in Albuquerque. She takes the now-empty teapot with her.

As soon as she's out of earshot, the stubble guy cocks an eyebrow at you and asks "so, what do you think of her?" He's got one of those thin coffee straws set between his lips like a cigarette. Well, whatever helps, you guess.

>[]That's a rather pointed question, stranger
>[]A little young for me
>[]I wouldn't be surprised if she wound up backstage after the concert tonight
>[]What do you think of her?
>[]Who are you?
>[]Write-in
>>
>>34850778
>[]A little young for me
>Who are you
>>
> a little young for me
>>
>[]A little young for me
and also
>[]Who are you?
>>
>>34850778
>>[]A little young for me
>[]Who are you?
>>
>>34850778
>>[]A little young for me
>>[]Who are you?
>>
>>34850778
"A bit young for me, I'm afraid," you say, "who are you? Your voice sound familiar."

"Oh," he says, "I'm your tour manager. I was worried for a bit that you were going to do something stupid like try to give her a backstage pass."

He sticks out his hand, and you shake it.

>[]I confess I considered it
>[]I expected someone taller
>[]Would you like to come up to the room?
>>
>>34851125
>>[]I confess I considered it
>[]Would you like to come up to the room?
>>
>>34851125
>>[]Would you like to come up to the room?
>>
>>34851125
>>[]I confess I considered it
>>[]Would you like to come up to the room?

Time to get as much out of him as possible
>>
>[]I confess I considered it
>[]Would you like to come up to the room?
>>
>>34851125
"I confess," you say as you get up, "I considered it. Would you like to come up to the room?"

"Even though you think she's too young for you?" he says, pushing his seat back, "sure, I'll come up and talk things over."

The two of you pitch your cups into the trash and start walking down the hotel's hallway. The manager has a definite limp, so you take the elevator. Once he's on his feet, you get the impression that there's something wrong with him - you can't put your finger on it, but he could tell you he had any kind of painful chronic disease and you'd believe him.

"Where'd you pick that drummer up?" he asks as you walk alongside him, keeping his slow pace, "I haven't met him yet, but I hear he's got IDEAS about the pyrotechnics. Ideas that are making me glad we've got a good insurance budget."

"You're not going to believe this," you say, holding the elevator for him, "but I met him in a church. I convinced him to join, and he yelled at his congregation Sunday morning and walked out, after baptizing me in what was left of the communion wine."

"That's quite the story," he says, leaning against the elevator wall, "I know where you picked the DJ up - that video's been making the rounds. I think SNL even made a joke about fishheads."

You suddenly realize how unconnected you've been since Friday. But who need the internet when you've got rock and roll?

"Anything interesting happen on the trip?" he asks as you

>[]Tell him about getting your rhythm section in line
>[]Not much, just practicing
>[]Write-in (anything you want to say to / ask this guy)
>>
>[]Not much, just practicing
It'd be a shame to blow a gig like this
>>
>>34851635
>>[]Not much, just practicing
Also, thanks for sporting the bill to repair my guitar
>>
>>34849061
A bit small, but it'll do, for now
>>
>[]Not much, just practicing
We might need a bassist soon enough, any idea where we might find one?
What can he tell us about the biz or something
>>
I REALLY don't trust this manager guy.

Everybody knows the managers in the music industry are demons in disguise.
>>
>>34851635
>[]Tell him about getting your rhythm section in line
>>
>>34851635
"Not much," you tell him as you open the room, "just practicing hard. It's nuts for a new band to have this big of a gig. We're worried about the crowd."

"Well," he tells you, collapsing into an armchair, "you've got a bit more to worry about than that. I've caught wind of some very dangerous characters blowing into town during the past couple of days. Someone's building a contingency plan in case you wow the crowd."

"Well," you say, "at least that means they think we've got a chance."

"That's true," he says, "but you're going to be exposed during the concert. And there's nothing I can do at this point. Everything's too deep, wheels within wheels. The people above me might be the ones sending the assassins, for all I know, so I have no idea how reliable security will be."

"I'll tell the band," you tell him, "but, since there's nothing we can do about that, what about finding us a bassist?"

He fades farther back into the chair, if that's possible. "I've looked for members to fill in, but there isn't enough time for any of them to practice with you before the show. And if you're really on a mission from God, you'll run across the right members in good time."

The man looks almost pitiful, but you can't help but wonder if it's an act or something. Perhaps your sense that something's off is a warning. His warnings aren't doing much more than scaring you, and he hasn't done very much to help. What he has done could be considered just giving you enough rope to hang yourself.

At this moment, you hear the door unlock behind you.

>[]Get down
>[]Turn your back on the chair to face the door
>[]Get out from between the chair and the door
>[]Stay facing the chair
>>
>>34852315
>[]Stay facing the chair
>>
>>34852315
>>[]Stay facing the chair
>>
>>34852315
>[]Get out from between the chair and the door
>>
>>34852315
The door opens, and you hear the priest step into the room behind you. At least, it sounds like the priest. A few seconds later, you're certain.

The man in the chair writhes, digging under his coat with one hand, and pulls out a gun.

"YOU JUDAS PRIEST!" he yells, as the priest simply yells "YOU!" behind you and knocks you aside as he dives toward the chair.

It looks like these two have some bad history, or the guy in the chair actually is a demon. You hear a click, and see the priest holding a flip knife to the manager's neck while the manager points his gun at the priest's chest.

You have ten hours until your band's first performance starts, and your tour manager and and drummer are locked in a deadly standoff.

You figure that playing is a rock band isn't as easy as it looks.

>[]What's going on here?
>[]Try to separate them
>[]Try to distract one of them
>[]Write-in
>>
>>34852808
Calling the thread here - this'll be the first choice given next thread.

It's been a fun 14 hours, I'm too tired to do the concert justice. I wanted to do the concert this thread, but that didn't work out, and I think this is a decent stopping point.

I'm going to hang around for a bit, so any questions or comments are welcome.
>>
>>34852808
>[]What's going on here?
I see that you know each others already, this will make things easier.
>>
>>34852897
So tired I forgot to include the usual info.

Twitter (where I announce run times): https://twitter.com/HaikuDeluge

Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Rock+Quest

Hope you all enjoyed today's all-day Rock Quest.
>>
>>34852897
Thanks for the run, always fun to participate.
How many more members do you have in mind for our group?
>>
>>34852897
Can we romance the DJ?
>>
>>34853125
The DJ is like less than half our age so no.
>>
>>34852808
>[]What's going on here?
>>
>>34852956
You're welcome!

I'm very much trying to play to what the thread talks about and wants, since bands have a lot of strange configurations. (Currently, we're Infected Mushroom's live band, if IM's guitarist and vocalist were combined.)

If I see something said in the thread enough, I try to work it into the Accountant's inner monologue. That's why he thinks he needs a bassist.

I don't prewrite, so there's actually a lot of freedom. I didn't expect you guys to try to try to play along with or recruit the DJ, for instance, or attend the service. (I thought "dig through the laptop" was a big honeypot.)

Basically, the group gets members until the thread stops saying "we need a/an X".
>>
>>34853125
Short answer: please don't.

Long (and meta) answer: I've seen too many quests overwhelmed by waifu wars. If you start romancing the DJ now, and you get another female band member (which is probably going to happen), then some of you are going to vote to try for the new band member.

Then things get ugly, and we start getting some wonderfully inconsistent MC behavior depending on which waifu's fans are in the thread for a given decision. At that point, either I go the realistic route, and both girls get mad at you, or I have to start applying harem anime logic.

I'd prefer to avoid all that, if possible.



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