The Band

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by I Eat Brains, Sep 21, 2009.

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    Terminus, the world's biggest and most beloved metal band, have just finished their world tour. The night finishes with flame alighting the entire stage, illuminating each of the five members against a jet black backdrop depicting a blood red skull with a crown of barbed wire - a personal symbol of their success. They are all right where they want to be... except one.

    Torn with desire to both stay and leave, the Judas drowns her sorrow with narcotics and booze while the others party at the after party or call it a night and head back to their comfy six star hotel bed. Morning follows and thus the Judas arrives at her decision that would affect The Band forever.
  2. Seraph cradles her head with one hand and uses the other to block the sunlight creeping in through the windows. She rolls over and buries her face in the pillow on the couch and takes a deep breath. She sighs and sits upright and continues to cradle her face in her hands, peering out between her fingers. On the coffee table before her she can see crack pipes and empty beer bottles and a pot filled to the rim with gasoline. Narcotics are scattered along with the mess and Seraph can still smell the glue she pasted on her upper lip from the previous which she can't quite remember.

    Whilst pulling her phone from her back pocket she rubs away the remaining glue from her face. It doesn't take long to get Adrian on the phone.

    "Dude...can you come get me?"

    Seraph looks around but can't find anyone around. She's not quite sure where she is but a quick peek outside and she finds an address number as well as a street name.

    "I'm pretty jacked up still...and...we need to talk."
  3. So when is the I. going up? I can't wait to start this! ^.^
  4. Sunlight breached the shield of curtains inside Jesse's hotel suite and lightly caressed his face. His eyes stammered open and he shielded his gaze from the light, squinting into the semi-darkness of the room. Clothes, music sheets, food scraps and various other items were strewn across the room haphazardly, some staining the carpet and others drying to a crusty residue on the walls. He grinned.

    The cleaners were going to have a shit time cleaning up this joint.

    Yawning, Jesse stretched leisurely before leaping off his bed and rubbing his face with both palms to wake himself up. He thought about the night before as he walked towards the restroom to take his morning piss.

    It was probably one of the best concerts they did but that didn't mean that they could do better. He remembered watching Seraph as she rocked on her guitar; she didn't seem all that into it like the others, including himself, who were all sweating profusely and banging their heads around like crazed lunatics. No, she seemed... out of it. There was no other way to explain it.

    Finishing up, he washed his hands in the sink, brushed his teeth (he liked to take care of his teeth), and then dressed himself in the same black jeans and black tank he was wearing the other night, and made his way to Seraph's hotel door. He would talk to her, ask her what's wrong and maybe help her out a little.

    "Seraph!" He shouted as he banged his fist on the door, not caring whether he would disturb the other guests in the hotel. He twisted the knob and found the door was unlocked. Jesse looked in but found that the room was devoid of human life.

    Had she returned? He couldn't remember Seraph attending the after party but then again the entire night was a bit of a blur not from being drunk, he would never allow himself to get drunk, but from the euphoria of playing in one of the best and biggest concerts they had done. Seraph was a big girl though and, like the party-hard girl she was, she probably wasn't even finished yet.

    Shoving his hands into his jeans, he made his way towards Jackie's suite, knowing full well that Adrian wouldn't be awake and if he was, he would be doubling over from a massive hangover. He wondered whether Charles or Vlagimir were awake yet.
  5. The van was parked in the service entrance of the hotel, two men standing by the rear doors. One wore khaki slacks, a white camp shirt with red hammer and sickles all over it, and a gold chain with a red star hanging from his neck. The other wore a black suit and a navy blue turtle neck, a pair of sunglasses perched on his narrow face. There was a scar running from the top of his left brow to his jaw line.

    <"Where is he..."> the suit asked as he lit another cigarette. There was a small pile of unfiltered cigarettes at his feet.

    <"You don't rush quality work, vanya. Be patient."> the other man replied as the service doors opened. The suit's right hand immediately went into his jacket as a linen car was wheeled out.

    <"Anatoly, Pasha, you came!"> Vlagimir Khukov, Terminus' lead body guard said as he pushed the cart out. The three men shared a traditional Russian greeting, consiting of a big hug and a kiss on each cheek. Khukov wore a pair of jeans, a blue and white striped sleeveless shirt, which was standard issue for the Russian military, his dog tags, and the ever present red beret.

    <"So what have you got for us this time?"> Pasha asked as Anatoly opened the doors.

    <"Paparazzi. He was trying to snap some pictures of one of the band members stoned and drunk."> Khukov replied, pulling the sheets away to reveal the body of a man. There was heavy bruising around his neck. Anatoly had a body bag laid out on the deck of the van. On the walls were various cutting tools and surgical devices. Pasha picked up the body and deposited it into the large black bag, zipping it up. Anatoly reached into his suit jacket and handed Khukov a stack of bills. Khukov split the stack and handed half back to his comrade, pocketing his cut.

    <"So where's the next tour going?"> Anatoly asked as he put his cigarette out, Pasha returning with a leather bound flask. He handed it over to Khukov who immediately took a long pull of vodka the likes of which would turn Westerners green. He handed it back, Pasha taking a quick pull before Anatoly got his drink.

    <"For now I believe the band is looking to recover. They had a hard tour.">

    <"I guess this is the first time you traveled without being in a Ilyushin* or a Krokodil,** eh?"> Khukov nodded to Pasha, recalling his time in Spetsnaz. The three of them had survived that hell only to be RIF'ed a year later. A former KGB operator had gotten them to America, depositing them in New York City's Brighton Beach where they found many more of their kind. Anatoly and Pasha found a niche in 'involuntary organ donation,' harvesting parts from murder victims and the like while Khukov put his skills as a professional soldier to the body guard market. He pulled security for several bands between then and now, finally settling with Terminus as they had expressed a desire for a true professional. He was such a professional and very good at what he did.

    <"That is very true."> Khukov replied. <"It's a nice change of pace.">

    <"I bet. At least you don't have to worry about a raghead mujahedeen trying to shoot you down these days."> Anatoly added.

    <"I remember that day. Sergetov got shot in the ass."> Khukov said, remeniscing about their former platoon lieutenant.

    <"Well, you call us when you have another one to dispose of, okay?"> Pasha said as he closed the rear doors. Khukov nodded, Anatoly lighting up yet again.

    <"Alright. If you can, get Sidorovich to send some more Cossacks. The vodka here is watered down."> Khukov said as his compatriots boarded the van and drove off. He wheeled the laundry cart back inside, leaving it near the hotel's laundry room before going back up to the floor the band was staying on. He had to check on their wellbeing, lest his bread and butter be proper fucked.

    *Ilyushin: Refers to the IL-86. Russian cargo plane.
    *Krokodil: Refers to the Mi-24 Hind gunship.
  6. As Usual, the Manager's room was silent one would have to listen very closely to hear the faint sound that was Charles Foster Ofdensen sleeping.
    as the clock radio clicked over to five thirty, the LED display making the change silently, Ofdensen cleared his throat, though this was also quiet.

    Charles Reached for the table next to the chair in which he had slept, taking his rimless, squared glasses and putting them on without even thinking, the action almost as routine as breathing.

    wearing grey wrinkled suit pants, a plain white long sleeved, shirt, the collar and cuffs unbuttoned and a pair of thin, navy blue socks Terminus' manager strode over to thin wooden double doors, ignoring the empty smirnoff bottles that he had to step over to get there.

    Charles pulled a hangar, complete with an ashen grey suit jacket and pants, on another hangar was a white shirt, white singlet and a blackish red tie.

    taking both hangars, Ofdensen laying both hangars on the unused bed before moving to the bathroom.

    when he emerged, fifteen minutes later, Ofdensen had not only showered, but shaved and releived himself, though he didnt seem to look like it, Terminus' Manager had spent a long night looking after some of the band members, though thankfully not actively, as the band hadn't had much need of him.

    another five minutes later, Ofdensen was dressed and gathering his wallet, mobile, watch and other belongings he usually carried with him, incidentally, he was also wondering how Khukov had dealt with the Photographer.

    Ofdensen and the Big Russian had discovered that the man was just a freelancer, aiming to exploit one of the bandmembers in order to enhance his career prospects.
    before he left the room in which the two had, 'questioned' the parasite, Ofdensen had made it explicitly clear that so long as it didnt come back to confront the band, he didnt have any qualms or cares about how the 'problem' was dealt with.

    by the time he had completed the though, Charles had closed and locked the hotel room door behind him, intent on seeing how the bandmembers were doing, the first door he approached was Jackie's, and it was there that he came across Jessie, Ofdensen smiled a warm, fraternal smile at the bassist
    "Excellent show last night, but I'll save the speech for when i see you all together" Ofedensen said, the smile slowy melting into the muted mask of calm content that Ofdensen seemed to display around the band, who he regared as some kind of cross between children and younger siblings, though he was careful not to be condescending with that regard.
  7. "Ofdensen!" Jesse greeted the manager with a wide easy going smile. He slapped him on the shoulder before shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans then smiled crookedly in reply, "Sure, sure. Awesome playin' on that stage and shit. Can't believe some of those girls out there, you know..."

    Jesse thought back to that moment on stage when a group of raucous girls near the front row lifted up their shirts, revealing their bouncing rounded breasts sporting each letter of Terminus on each mammary. He thought it was pretty cool and hoped the camera men captured the feat on their video camera to throw onto the special features of their World Tour DVD.

    "Say, you seen Seraph 'round?" He asked casually, leaning against Jackie's hotel room door.
  8. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, his hand was idly hanging over the edge of the bed with the cellphone on it. That hadn't been too much of an interesting conversation, and Adrian was thinking twice about having to go pick her up, of course, not many people would be around after that party last night, and he didn't mind signing a few autographs if he had to.

    He groaned and sat on the bed, looked at the ground and stared at it for a few seconds with his eyes shut, he stretched and got up slowly, good thing he'd only drank beer last night, a short trip to the toilet didn't seem like such a good idea today.

    Adrian got up from the bed and looked down with his eyes shut once again, fuck that hurt. Then again, Seraph probably wasn't any better than him, probably even worse with the way she spoke. He could do with a good meal, a damn good meal. Vlag was the one for that, certainly, the man had been drinking enough vodka through his lifetime to know what was really good for hangovers, he couldn't deny that Russians could party harder than 80's rock stars.

    He checked himself in the mirror, his hair looked just like yesterday, he hadn't shaven in a week and he wasn't exactly smelling of roses. Good enough for him. Hell, he hadn't cared long before they had hit it big.

    Adrian rubbed his eyes and slowly made his way out of the room, he couldn't help but think that it would have been a far better party if he'd got laid, but he didn't remember much about last night.

    Outside of the room, he caught sight of Charles and Jesse, he slowly approached them as they chatted, his mind wasn't working so well right now but hey, Seraph needed help, and nobody could afford to lose their lead guitarist. He preferred to make a quick job out of this, and he'd known her for long enough to know she probably wasn't in the mood to have a chat with them all, and hell, she trusted him more than the other guys, they spent a lot of time together creating the riffs.

    “Hey guys, great show last night, right?” he asked, not really looking for an answer besides a reassuring yeah.

    “I'm gonna go buy a pack of cigarettes, the store's not too far away.”

    He hoped they'd buy it, but they wouldn't take it easy if he told them the truth. The place wasn't so far either, he could walk there, at least he remembered the way when they took the band bus. They let him go and he was on his road to the apartment the party had been held, wondering why the hell it hadn't been placed at the same hotel they were in.

    He arrived at the adress, and called her up again, it took a while before she picked it up.

    “Será, I'm in front of the building, where are you?” he asked, always pronouncing her name in spanish, she didn't seem to mind when he started doing that.
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  10. "Hnngh..."

    Gary woke up. 'Aaah, ain't nothing better than to wake up without a hangover' he thought opening his eyes. Looking at his watch, it reminded him it was just three hours since he had fallen asleep.

    Stumbling onto his feeth, still with his booths on and most of the same clothes he'd weared the night before. Gary eyed his laptops lined on the hotel-table, turned around and opened the window.

    He'd spent hours for the last couple of nights recording and trying out new ideas for his own work. Almost keeping no social contact with the others expect for during jam-hours, interviews and concerts. He was exhausted.

    After he was finished showering, Gary put on a big coat, a cap and some big sun-glasses. Everything to keep him from getting any crazy fans from recognizing him on the street.

    "" He said to himself in a robotic voice before leaving the apartment.

    He walked quickly to wards the elevator, went all the way down to the 1st floor and headed for the exit. No notice of anyone from the band or other affiliates, Gary headed for the nearest fast food-restaurant.
  11. Heh, well if you ever think of something that we could do involving Scissorman lemme know.
  12. that a joke or...what? An Easter egg for those of us who remember maybe?
  13. No, this version is fine as he is. He was just... wedged in to fit. This is the Merged World version. And it is entirely up to you whether or not Strange "remembers" the world before the merger or if this merged version is all he knows.

  14. TIL: Wikipedia has a Twitter.