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Friday, June 4, 2021 5:56 PM Ryder would have been the first to admit that Shredded Beat, which billed itself as hopefully the first annual festival for local independent and amateur metal bands looking to break out, was a little outside his comfort zone. But Eira had insisted that this was the perfect place to stakeout the mysterious guitarist he and Danica had run into in later February and after a goat-like Ragin had wreaked havoc in the West End the month prior until a few of the Interceptors made short work of it she wanted to be there the next time one of the strange, musical demon constructs appeared. The upperclassman had told him to come dress appropriately but in typical fashion had considered the specifics of those instructions to be self-evident. Ryder had turned to the only fashion expert he knew who specialized in monochrome: Natalia. Which brought him to a milling crowd around the Liberty Park bandshell in a pair of black pants that hugged his legs like a second skin, a sleeveless t-shirt featuring a band name with lettering he couldn't begin to parse and a pre-owned leather jacket Natalia had studded across the shoulders with an insect wing design. He tugged one more time on his leather choker, fastened in front with a small padlock, before forcing his hands back down to his sides. He'd painted his nails an uncharacteristically sombre black and hoped that the sparkly top coat wasn't going to be an issue. He caught one of the other attendees giving him a side eye as they walked by and gave them a terse nod, trying to lower his register for a brusque, "Hey, how you doin'."