Singing for His Supper

[Hellbound]

The demonic witch let out a strangled cry of pain at the injury. Here, Hellbound had been surviving her assault for much of the afternoon, and within the first minute of her taking physical form she already had a useless arm. For as one-dimensional as this 'hero' came off on his blog, he was apparently more dangerous than he appeared.

"Where's your army now, huh?" Hellbound was asking her, bearing down on his vice-like grip. He was pretty sure that one of her wrists was on the verge of snapping like a twig.

"Think you can turn into smoke before I break you in half? Or do you feel like answering a few questions?"

It wasn't easy holding back as he was. Guys like him simply weren't meant to manhandle girls like her. She might have vast power at her command, but clearly that didn't extend to personal protection. She was nearly as fragile as any normal citizen of Freedom and Hellbound was not in the mood to cut her any slack.

Still, he didn't go around brutalizing anyone for no good reason. Her primary threat had been ended, the zombiequins were still lifeless on the ground and no problem to anyone anymore. He had the villain within his grasp and hurting her any more than needed just wasn't... well, heroic, really.

Besides that, Hellbound had always hated beating on someone weaker than himself. It just wasn't fair. Maybe if she managed to show some superhuman strength or durability it'd be a different story. But so far her only trick had been to bring an enclave of plastic soldiers to life and that wasn't happening again.

"Actually..." Her strangely distant voice spoke again. The movements of her mouth didn't quite match, as if there were a time delay at work. That's what was wrong with how she talked, Hellbound realized.

The witch twisted her body, painfully, so that she could look Hellbound in the eyes. There wasn't any fear in her gaze, even though she was beaten. Her body was his to abuse or release as he pleased, but all that was reflected back in her face was challenge.

"Actually... I can. You'll get nothing today, inhuman fool."

With that, Hellbound felt her dissolve beneath his grip. There wasn't any smoke or special effects like when she'd formed, but the witch was gone anyway. All he was left with were the shattered remains of her attack on him and the distant awareness of crowds gathered outside.

There was that old Freedom City survival instinct again. Once the supervillainy starts, run and don't go back until it's all over. People were crowded around the mall as they waited for the 'all clear' signal to come from within.

[Hellbound]

Miles away, buried deeply in a dark chamber of some industrial sub-basement on one of the uncounted tenament slums of the city, Jennifer Wu found herself being thrown from a summoning circle. Candles surrounded her etched glyphs and wards, though most of those had burned down to stubs, and blue flames ran through the mystic lines of her work and died.

Hovering in the center of the circle was a demoic, half-seen form. A female spirit that glared down at Jennifer with a dissaproving look. She shook her head as an exhausted spellcaster tried to push herself from the floor but only managed to find a resting position supported by her posterior and bent arms.

"'Told you that wouldn't work." The demonic spirit chided. "That's the second direct attack you tried now. He's too strong. You need to be more clever."

"F#c$ you." Jennifer spat back. "No wonder it didn't work. You give up too goddam easy. Next time tell them to send me someone with balls."

The demon appeared angry and insulted, but mostly disgusted by the retort. Jennifer Wu had asked for this power specifically. The demonic spirits she summoned up weren't drawn by chance or whim, but by her request. If she wanted something more powerful, then next time she'd have to ask for it herself.

But the contract was now completed and the spirit didn't need to waste any more time with this mortal idiot. Just as the melded pair had faded from beneath Hellbound's grasp at the mall, so did the spirit herself vanish from Wu's basement. In less than a second, the room was quiet, still and dark other than a harshly breathing witch still laying on the floor, trying to still her own racing heart.

She had to admit, it was a thrill to send out her soul to blend with another's born of hell itself. There was an intimacy to the power and a rush that made the accompanying corruption well worth it. Further, if she'd been informed correctly, the whole experience would be universally amplified if she could perform the ceremony with Hellbound's blood.

And after having felt it pulse in his veins herself? There was no doubting that. None whatsoever, at least not in her mind.

[Hellbound]

Outside of Millennium Mall, peole were waiting to hear news of the action inside. Camera crews were showing up and police were cordoning off the area and keeping civilians at a safe distance. Not that they truly needed to put much effort into that, given how nobody wanted to accidentally catch an acid-blast to the face.

It'd been known to happen before, after all.

The action today had been a little less intimate than the bar fight of last night. Then, it'd been clear from the start that common fisticuffs were being called for. Today had been in broad daylight, however, with hundreds of screaming shoppers and magically animated mannequins. Instances like that invoked a more cautious attitude from people who wanted to go through life with all of their major organs intact.

Hellbound was still willing to step out and face the cameras, however. Part of the reason for getting into this whole gig was for the fame and fortune (assuming he could pick up some profitable contracts), almost as much as the superpowers themselves.

Honestly. When a guy could juggle draft horses and punch a tank into submission, was he really going to get a job selling used cars? Of course not. He was going to go beat up criminals and stop rampaging hordes of zombiequins. It was all part of life's weird little circle.

Emerging from the mall, he prepared for some triumphant cheering, but all he really got was confused expressions.

"Who's that?" Someone asked.

"Looks like a survivor. Maybe he knows which hero's inside fighting?" Came the answer.

"Must be a survivor. Look at his clothes, the dude's been through hell. Get him out of the shot, we want to get pictures of the superhero."

[Hellbound]

"Frag you!" Hellbound flipped the camera crew off in passing. The security cameras inside would tell the truth of what happened, so this would just be a good picture to match up to further footage.

Apparently Hellbound wasn't yet making a name for himself. Though he did have a strong following among the Hellions, they weren't the type to be wandering around malls on a saturday afternoon. There weren't quite as many of his fans in the crowd as there had been last night.

Plus, he had to admit that a guy wandering around in thrift-store clothing wasn't exactly superhero material. If Hellbound was really going to get into the business, he was going to have to dress brightly before being able to walk in the sun. Avenger might be cool with battling from within the shadows but Hellbound wanted more recognition than that.

There were more important things right now, though. The first order of business after exiting the scene was to find his cat. He'd hoped that leaving her with the security guard had been a good idea, especially seeing as how his bluff would have been very difficult to pull off if he'd had to keep her from getting crushed in the process. Fortunately the temporary caretaker had taken the duty seriously. It didn't take long for the two to find each other and possession of the animal returned to her rightful owner.

[Hellbound]

A couple of hours later, and yet more of his hard earned cash spent at a pet store, found Hellbound and Tigho both safely at home. Though if this were Hellbound's home then things were seriously wrong with his life.

He didn't live in a nice neighborhood, that was for sure. Even though the angle of his lone window gave him a clear view of the Boardwalk area, the lands between were nothing short of depressing. Hellbound made his home on the downward-spiral side of the gambling capital. What he could see were buildings in serious need of repair and repainting, streets lined with derelicts of both the automotive and out-of-work variety and the near constant call of sirens from police pretending to give a damn about what happened in the area.

But Hellbound was a Knight of Freedom now. He'd made it into the big leagues, working alongside people able to alter the fabric of the fragging universe. What was he doing still living in a dump like this?

As he stood gazing out the window, Tigho held lightly in one hand while she pressed her paws against the glass and gazed out with him, Hellbound started to scratch her behind the ears. She turned her head to gaze up at him with the action for only a moment before returning to her studies of the world outside.

Normally, a flop-house like this wouldn't allow pets of any kind. The people living in the cheap hotel were hard enough on the furnishings with the added destruction of genuine animals (who at least had an excuse for their mindless behavior, but were still better mannered than most of the humans in residence). However, it was a rare guest that could put his fist through brick walls. Special allowances were often made for Hellbound when it came to breaking the rules.

[Hellbound]

Hellbound sat the cat in front of the window where it could watch the world move by. She seemed happy, but then again she always seemed happy. Even with Hellbound not being a cat person he could tell she was happy. There'd been no signs of fear on the bus ride home (and, fortunately, no ninja attacks), nor had there been any hesitancy in exploring the single hotel room that he lived within.

When Tigho moved across the floor it almost seemed like she was unable to even walk without bouncing. There was simply a tireless energy inside of the cat, one that somehow lightened a room up as soon as she entered it. Being forced to use her eyes rather than her ears gave her an appearance of being one of the most curious creatures on the planet.

She had to look at everything, and though she poked her nose at objects once or twice, she never really sniffed at them. It was almost like her sense of smell was as hampered as her hearing. Certainly there'd been no reaction to the catnip that Hellbound had picked up. It was supposed to be fresh, and he could certainly detect the weedy odor of the stuff, but Tigho cared little.

When he'd lay back on his one couch and she stood on his stomach, her paws would stamp down on him in that oddly out-of-synch way that she'd displayed earlier. Deaf, no sense of smell, probably blind in one eye and no rhythm... but with no fear of anything other than zombiequin animating witches (assuming that's what she'd sensed back at the mall), and a boundless joy that even Hellbound could feel beneath his calloused exterior.

"Werido." He stated, though whether it was to the cat or himself, he just wasn't sure.

"I gotta go meet some guys. 'See how my performance went last night. I'm a singer now, see? Not that you'd be able to hear me but... whatever. You have fun. I'll be back later."

[Hellbound]

Some time shortly thereafter, Hellbound made his way back into the damaged and dark Morely's. Electricians were still working on the ruined junction box and it would probably still be a day or two before they had power flowing fully back. Looking over the destruction in the daytime, it didn't seem to be as bad as Hellbound remembered.

The floor was a splintered wreck in a few places and he still felt guilty about the damage to the bar. Old, antique furnishings like that deserved better than to serve as back stop for when he'd been throw across the room. Not that it'd been his idea, mind you. Not totally, at any rate.

The worst of it all was the hole in the wall that he and Tony B. had made, the one responsible for the bar being dark right now. Through that he could see debris and stains still in place from where broken bottles and spilled beer had been cleaned up. They'd really ran a number on that room, probably costing Moira a fortune in wine and liquor.

"Oy!" Hellbound heard from across the room. He'd really only stuck his head through the door leading in (which was untouched, still on its hinges and currently unlocked despite their closed status), and had to focus his eyes in the semi-gloom for who was hailing him.

This was where and when they'd agreed to meet, but with the way last night had turned out he just wasn't sure they were going to show. But, looking over at the stage, he could see the house band gathered in a circle on collected chairs. Sunlight fell over them from the stained glass windows and the entire scene had a slightly surreal quality to it.

"Bout time you showed up, but we didn't figure your lot for the punctual type."

[Hellbound]

It was a strange sensation, what Hellbound was feeling. Normally he didn't give a flying frag about anyone or anything. Certainly the emotion of 'fear' was completely alien to the brute, and normally his life was kept to the simple basics of fight, eat, sleep and then go back to fighting.

It was a comfortable routine for him. This, however, was the first thing he could recall truly wanting without having any control over. He couldn't punch his way into a lead-singer gig or beat it into submission. Here was something that he had to genuinely earn on his own merit. It took the hero's natural charisma and vocal abilities to secure the spotlight now. Did he really have what it took?

Hellbound couldn't say that he was 'afraid', really. But there was an uncomfortably uncertain sensation in the pit of his stomach as he approached the band. It probably didn't help that he got involved with a bar-smashing brawl on his audition night.

"Bus's running late." Was all he growled as way of explanation for his tardiness.

"Yeah, well, you're going to have to figure out a way around that, mate, if you plan on making the band."

That was Sid, the bass player. 'Sid' wasn't his real name, though, but in a tribute to his personal hero Sid Vicious, that's what he preferred to be called. Unlike the pioneering punk rocker, however, he actually knew how to play his instrument.

It sounded like he wasn't completely out of the running yet. That was good. Hellbound could recognize right away that, even though they weren't well known just yet, these guys were professional quality. Not only did they have talent and creativity, but there was also an organized and considered approach to both their music and how it might apply to future careers.

[Hellbound]

Hellbound snatched up a chair and sat in with the circle uninvited. He wasn't the type to wait around to be given permission to join in, and if they didn't want him there then they should have said something already. It took a potent personality to stand in front of these guys and Hellbound elected to simply ride his natural tendencies for the moment.

"Yeah. Next time I'll drive the fragging bus myself, make sure it gets here on time."

"Whatever." The band's shaggy headed drummer shook his head. "Just make sure you know that we don't f'ck around with no-show's, okay? You make the gigs on time and you get to practice on time. And by-god do not show up too wasted to perform, got it? You may look like Morrison but you're not him yet."

He preferred to be called Animal, which was another tribute to another famous musician. This time it was a felt-covered drummer invented by a creative genius. The wild mane of hair and full beard that seemed to almost climb up to his eyebrows helped to solidify the image. Unlike Sid, he didn't speak with any kind of accent.

Though, to be honest, Hellbound had doubts as to the bassist's British roots to begin with.

Animal was strange for his breed. Typically, or at least as far as Hellbound understood, drummers were considered the red-headed-step-children of rock bands. They were around just to smash things and keep the beat, if at all possible. This one, however, had a lot of brains behind his rage-driven stage presence.

Once he sat behind his booming cannons that he called a drum set, the man was nothing but barely controlled energy. But off the stage he was calm, cool and the real professionalism behind the band. Animal tended to keep their books straight and make sure their agent wasn't screwing anyone over by skimming their take.

He also had the presence of mind to keep everyone on track. The drummer always seemed to be one step ahead of the next screw-up and found ways to cut it off before it even happened.

[Hellbound]

"Got that right."

That was the next member to introduce himself. A guy named Tweak who ran their keyboards. Though, honestly, that wasn't doing justice to his job description. Here was a guy who stood in front of a grand control panel for the heaviest MIDI setup that Hellbound had ever seen.

Tweak owned a host of instruments ranging from wind controllers to keyboards and D.J. rigs. All of this ran to a bank of tone generators, dedicated synthesizers and samplers along with a tower system that proudly displayed its Alienware casemod. Whatever processing power and software was contained within that evil, glowing rig allowed him to supply the band with any sort of sound they may be shy of for any given gig.

During their introductory rehearsal, Hellbound had head Tweak produce noises ranging from full orchestral backup to whale song and then what must have been the ear-splitting sound of a building falling in upon itself, experienced from within the falling structure.

Hellbound had considered the noise against his 'day job' and assumed that, some day, he'd be able to compare the two for accuracy.

Tweak had a lot of energy, hence his name. All of that was tightly focused on his technological expertise, however. None of it seemed artificial, either. He was just a rolling ball of 'get it done' when it came to computers. Hellbound figured that if the keyboardist ever did display habits that went along with his name, then Animal would have him out of the band faster than even Tweak could comprehend.

"That's what happened to the last singer." Tweak was continuing in his rapid form of speech, which was almost hard to understand as words tended to string together when they weren't supposed to.

"Showed up krunked one to many times, so his ass was outta here. You're not gonna do that, are you?"

[Hellbound]

Hellbound shook his head, dismissing the question without even bothering to answer. Of course he wasn't a druggy. He was a superhero, right? What kind of superhero spent his time shooting up and smoking his way into submission?

Actually, the fact that he'd yet found a needle capable of piercing his skin was part of what kept him out of the drug scene. He'd given it a shot in his youth, but given the man's inhuman constitution, it took such heroic amounts of any substance in order to have any effect on him that it just wasn't worth it.

He still drank from time to time, and honestly he wasn't above getting stoned if someone found a way to make that possible, but for the most part there were too many factors in Hellbound's life keeping him from losing himself to substance abuse.

"Nah." He finally gave a definitive answer. "About the only bad habits I got are fighting too much. Kinda like last night..."

There was the hook. How would they take the damage he'd done to the bar? Would Morley's ever allow Hellbound to sing again? Would Moira even let the band set foot inside the bar on a professional basis? They were supposed to be making money right now, but thanks to Hellbound's confrontation that wasn't happening.

[Hellbound]

Sid grinned at that. Apparently at least one of the band members got a charge out of the destructive activities.

"Yeah, about that, mate." He smiled. "You know that Ed Sulli's been dead more'n thirty years, right? We don't stand up in suits and ties, play all nicey-nice for the audience these days. Haven't for a long f'ing time, now. Blokes like Barrett, Townsend, Hendricks, Brockie, Simmons and f'ck knows who else all taught us how to put on a bleeding show."

"God bless Reznor... amen" The band's lead guitarist intoned, quietly.

His name was Wally. Just Wally, with no hyped up nickname. It was short for Walter something-or-other, but so far Hellbound had only been introduced to him as Wally. If the rest of the band was dedicated then this guitarist was honestly obsessed.

Hellbound wasn't sure he'd seen him yet without his instrument in hand, playing with the strings and considering new ways to get good sound out of it. He was forever tuning the damn thing and it was like he'd been born with it in his clutches. There was some wonder that his fingers hadn't been worn down to bone for all that he was constantly manipulating the strings, and Hellbound couldn't even imagine the callouses that the man must have.

Wally never said much, though he still had a powerful stage presence. Standing tall naturally, and even taller with the artificial lifts in his leather boots, the clean-shaven, bald headed lead guitarist was a calm and focused musical force to be reckoned with before an audience.

[Hellbound]

"Tweak's been reading the Hellblog." Animal stepped back into the conversation, naturally taking over now that business was being discussed.

"We've been talking to some of the Hellions, running some numbers on the fanbase you already have building behind your name. You're already half-way to becoming your own brand. Did you know that?"

Hellbound shrugged. He knew that his flashy actions as a superhero had caught some attention, but he never did check the numbers of people registered on his site. Half the time he didn't even bother reading what they posted there in response to his updates.

"Well you are. And that shouldn't be much of a surprise. This town loves its superheroes. You may be new to the scene, but you're hard to miss. Even that action at the skating rink a while back had an impact.

"Maybe not a very popular one with the mainstream, but we don't give much of a rat's ass about the mainstream. The people who go to rock concerts don't really mind a riot or two just so long as you're not the one who started it."

Hellbound suppressed a startled moment of surprise at that. Apparently it wasn't common knowledge that the rioting had been caused by his blood. The fear effect that it generated was what really made the people go wild, but if the public at large just thought it was a natural result of being trapped with the fight, then maybe Hellbound's reputation wasn't as damaged as he'd though.

[Hellbound]

"So here's the hook." Sid stepped back into the conversation. Animal didn't look very pleased at being interrupted, but he knew the bassist had trouble keeping his mouth closed when excited and allowed some leeway.

"You're a superhero, right? And a bloody badassed one at that. The blokes we've been trying to get to listen to our sound are going to f'ing love you, mate. We put you on stage and it'd be like... bwoosh... instant fame."

Hellbound turned dark eyes on the man. Was that why he was here? Was there no real respect for his singing ability? They just wanted him for his publicity factor? He wasn't sure how to take that, but fortunately Animal took control of the situation once more.

"Hey! Don't let Sid 'Viscous' over here get thick headed with you. It's not all about the press. You have presence, okay? You have talent and charisma, everything that it takes to actually be a lead singer. Your day job is just an added bonus. Think of it as something to pad your resume with."

Hellbound nodded at that, a little placated. He could understand the industry wanting to take advantage of all that it could. As long as he was being recognized for talent as well as heroics, then he was fine with the setup.

"Plus you have dedication. After Morely's shut down last night and you were exhausted after the fight, you didn't punk out and run off. That hockey mask wearing spook might not have wanted to shake hands with the cops, but you didn't cut and run. Plus you found the energy to continue the show even though we all figured you needed a trip to the hospital. But you didn't even blink when we started setting up on the street. You got right back in front of the mic and kept driving the crowd. That says a lot."

Wally continued after that, running a round-robin of interviewing, apparently.

"And you're here today. Glad to see you didn't forget about us or decide to lay low. It'll be a day or so for Morley's to get back on their feet. A lot of people would be afraid to show their faces this soon."

[Hellbound]

"Right, right." Tweak was becoming anxious to get to the heart of the matter. He didn't seem the type to take his time in coming to decisions.

"So what's the call? We want you. You got what it takes. The crowd likes you, we like you, you got talent and balls. You want in full time, or do we start running adds in the paper again?"

Hellbound thought about it. These guys sounded like they knew what they were doing. They were dedicated, creative and serious about their music. This wasn't just some half-assed night job for them, nor was it a hobby they were just playing with. These were guys who were both interested in making a career and talented enough to make it happen.

More than that, Hellbound seemed to be a good fit for the crew. He was energetic on his own and brought a pre-made reputation that they were already gearing up to take advantage of. That would cause a bit of chaos down the line, he knew, but apparently they'd discussed that and were ready to accept the consequences.

"Why the frag not?" Hellbound replied. "You jokers seem to know what you're getting into, so who am I to say sod-off?"

[Hellbound]

Sid seemed to like the reply, as told by his grin, and Animal drew a briefcase out from behind his chair. Like a true professional, he'd come prepared.

"Right." He said, snapping the case open. "You're lucky I'm not a real agent, otherwise I'd be going after a piece of your income from Superslams. But as long was we keep building a cross-fanbase there, I don't give a rat's ass what you do with your winnings."

Hellbound was surprised to learn that they'd researched him so thoroughly. It actually made him feel even better as it seemed just one more sign that these guys knew what they were doing. They weren't the type to make decisions without careful consideration, and that's honestly what it took to really make a living out of music.

Animal shifted his chair so that, instead of facing Hellbound in the circle of bandmates, he was sitting next to him. The case was passed over to be used as a desk as Hellbound was shown where to sign and initial.

"Do you play any instruments?" Animal asked while going over the legal details of membership. Apparently there were some conduct requirements, legal restrictions on the use of the band name and image plus a few other official regulations that he was assured was just standard procedure.

Hellbound had to answer no in a distracted tone of voice as he tried to keep up with the flowing boilerplate.

[Hellbound]

"We may want to do something about that." Animal suggested. "You look damn good up there humping the mic stand, otherwise I'd tell you to learn the guitar..."

That statement brought a sour chord out of the messing around that Wally had been doing on his instrument. The bald headed, intense musician gave Animal a fierce glare. Apparently he was very protective of his territory and only permitted Sid as the punker was just a bass player.

"Rhythm guitar... rhythm. We've talked about that. Tweak's fills are good, but the more diverse sound we can find then the more options we have. The more options we have, the more venues we can play. It's f'ing business sense and you're not going to give me any static about it."

Animal's own assured voice and expression managed to both placate and back down the threatened lead guitarist, allowing the band leader to continue.

"But, as I was saying, a guitar would just get in the way. The way you handle the stand falls between brutal and erotic. It's a good look and having to sling an ax behind your back every time you ride it would just break the effect. So I'm thinking something smaller, something you can palm or just tuck behind your hand..."

He made some considerations, running a few mental routines through his mind as he pictured Hellbound on stage.

[Hellbound]

"If this was ten or fifteen years ago, I'd say harmonica." Animal continued. "But unfortunately John Popper sh't all over that sound to the point where I can barely listen to it anymore."

"... f'ing hack..." Wally commented under his breath, his attention still glued to his guitar.

"Whatever. Tim Barsky and Greg Patillo are trying to bring the flute back, and I know that Yamaha makes a sweet looking bohm out of black lacquered wood that'd go good with your style, but the damn thing costs about seven or eight grand. No way we're putting that kind of cash into something you can't play. Maybe we'll see how well you can kiss a cedar Native American model. High Spirits makes some nice ones that don't cost too much..."

There'd been a look of shock coming from Sid as Animal continued his considerations. Just before he was able to voice his objection, though, Tweak jumped in. Apparently he was just a bit quicker than the other band member.

"What? No way. You can't puss out his look by jamming a flute in his mouth. He's goddammed Hellbound!"

[Hellbound]

Apparently there was some debate firing up regarding Hellbound's role in the band. Here he thought he was just going to sing for his supper, but apparently the band held greater demands of his talents.

"Too right." Sid agreed, his accent slipping a little as he voiced his emotions. "Why can't he just stand up, look pretty and sing?"

"Because he's not frigging Davy Jones and we're not the frigging Monkeys." Animal insisted. "We are musicians. We are professionals. And if we are to be taken seriously by the industry then we need to have options. A lead singer that's all pipes and no play is a weakness. Wally, you tell them."

He turned to the lead guitarist, knowing that the man had an opinion he hadn't spoken yet.

"He's right." The quite instrumentalist said. "There wasn't an instrument invented that Ian Anderson couldn't play, and 'same went for Freddy Mercury, though he kept himself mostly to the piano when he wasn't singing. Most serious singers know how to play even if they never do. It's all just part of being talented."

"Damn skippy." Animal finalized the argument. "So what we're going to do is prop up a few publicity photos, see how we do with a couple of different looks and maybe run the results past a focus group or two."

Hellbound was staring at the arguing musicians as if not really believing it all. Was this what he was signing up for? He expected this to be just a fun way to express himself, but apparently there was going to be some... work... involved.

"Now..." Animal calmed down a bit and faced Hellbound as he realized that they were freaking out their new lead singer. "I'm not saying we're going to rewrite you, okay? You got in based on who you are, what you can do and how you look doing it. The superhero stuff is just a publicity bonus, but you are going to have to take this seriously. That means expanding your repertoire, studying music theory and doing what you can to be as professional and marketable as possible. Are you willing to do that?"

[Hellbound]

Hellbound looked at Wally to see if the guitarist had anything further to say on the subject, but the man was silent. Not even a shrug came from him, just a distant gaze as he wondered how the new frontman would take it.

Sid, however, had something to contribute.

"Bloke's right, mate." The bassist shrugged. "Wally an' me'self both know how to play keyboards, but Twek's jus' better at it, in'nt he? An' Tweak knows how to play guitar in return. But we each got our own talents an' that sorts us all out in the end.

"E'en Animal back there can play damn near anything he can get his hand on. 'Problem is, the man's got fingers like a sausage factory. 'Might know a lot about instrumentals, but he can't play 'em for shite. All he's good for is smashing things with sticks."

Animal seemed to accept the jibe in good nature, even going so far as to wiggle his stubby fingers in demonstration, as the band was all getting back onto the same track. What they were saying made sense to Hellbound. If he were going to be part of a serious band and get into serious music, then he'd have to put a little more of himself into it than just showing up and looking good.

"Yeah." He nodded with certainty. "We'll play around with the options, get me educated on this whole 'serious band' scene, and if you ever try shoving an instrument into my hands that I really don't like, I'll just shove it straight up your arses.

"Fair enough?" He grinned.

[Hellbound]

"That's a lot of arses." Sid grinned back. "How ya' gonna manage that with one instrument?"

Hellbound shrugged and infomed him that they'd just have to take turns Other than that, the deal seemed to be about as fair as he could understand it. They weren't trying to take over his life, though certain illegal activities would get him thrown out of the band. They did, after all, want to be seen as rebellious without actually holding any real prison records.

He also wasn't allowed to promote himself under the name of the band without joint agreement from the other members, nor was did he have the right to sign any of them to contract without running things through Animal first. He was, apparently, acting as the band manager and pulled an extra half-share of the take because of it.

Payment sounded fair, as well. Everyone (with the exception of Animal), received an equal share of the take. They typically were paid an appearance fee, which varied depending on the venue. Money collected from the door was split evenly with the club and the band was allowed to keep all cash raised from selling t-shirts or CDs.

Hellbound liked it. This sounded like a step in a good direction for him. A little responsibilty in his life, outside of the Knights of Freedom, some extra cash and a chance at the Big Fame game. There was only one thing missing from the deal, something he hadn't even bothered to ask up until this point. Even during the gig last night, he hadn't bothered to collect the one vital element of information.

"So..." Hellbound finished the paperwork and threw his glance around the circle. "What the hell's your band called, anyway?"

[Hellbound]

"You're kidding, right?" Tweak asked, not sure if he should be amused or amazed by the questions.

"I mean, I knew we weren't famous or anything, but we had flyers all over the place last night. They announced the band's name before we went on stage... and then again for the street party. We told you the name twice. At least. First when Moira set it up for you to sing with us, and then again when we met you, remember?

"Pretty sure we told you again when we paid you."

Hellbound felt a little embaressed about the lapse in his memory. But, in all fainess, it'd been a rough night followed by a rough day. As if the fight with Tony B. wasn't bad enough, just a few hours ago he finished rouging up Millennium Mall.

"Give him a break." Wally stepped to his defense. "Dude's lucky he doesn't have a concussion. Hell, maybe he does. Can't really blame him for being a little spotty today."

Though, as he spoke, Hellbound noticed the guitarist paying particularly close attention to Hellbound's eyes. It was almost as if he were looking for signs of drug use. To be perfectly honest, he probably was.

"Blackavar!" Sid proclaimed with pride, not catching the casual medical examination that Wally was throwing out.

"We calls ourselves Blackavar. Came up with it me'self."

In true round-robin style, Animal had the next few words to say. Hellbound was noticing that almost all of the bandmates liked to share the spotlight, with the single exception of Wally. That one only spoke up when he actually had something of importance to say. Hellbound could respect that.

"He got it from a character in Watership Down. You ever read that?" Animal asked, with Hellbound returning a negative. He wasn't much of a reader.

"It's a good book, and the character in question is a real survivor type. Sid wants us to call our first album The Black Rabbit of Inlé..."

Sid grinned and was about to speak up on the subject, but Animal refused to be interrupted and spoke over the bassist.

"... BUT WE HAVEN'T decided for sure yet."

"Oh, c'mon, mate! It'd be bloody brilliant! So dark, so flipping powerful. We be wankers not to do it."

[Hellbound]

"We're wankers to be doing crappy covers in bars." Animal retorted. "How are we supposed to come up with our own album, let alone our own sound, when we don't even have anyone writing our own music?"

"You know I have some lyrics written down." Sid started to lose his accent again. "We need to get some music behind it. That's why you have to find us a songwriter."

Hellbound felt as if he were coming in on an old argument, something the band had gone around about for a while now.

"And I said I would." Animal agreed. "After I found ourselves a new lead singer. We have that, so now I can start looking for a songwriter, okay? What, you think talent just craps itself out of the sewers?"

Tweak and Wally were letting the pair hash things out, but the discussion didn't last long. Animal was right in that they needed someone who could actually come up with music before Sid's lyrics could be put to use. For that matter, Sid's lyrics had to be found before they could be put to use.

Apparently the punk bassist had a habit of scribbling notes down on bar napkins and loose pieces of paper whenever the mood struck him. Keeping track of those later, however, hadn't been quite such an important task in his mind.

[Hellbound]

"We don't even know, for sure, if Watership Down's in the public domain yet." Animal admitted to Hellbound. Clearly this wasn't an argument he was willing to be dragged down into once more. It was a future element of the band that they just weren't ready to sieze.

"It should be, but I'm not a lawyer. I just play one on stage. Could be that one day we end up getting our asses sued off just for our name, let alone any albums we may or may not come out with."

That last had some additional stress oriented towards Sid, who was clearly still anxious to start pushing for the attempt.

"Sound-wise, we're looking to hover around the symphonic metal genre. Either gothic or power... somewhere between Epica and Nightwish. It makes it a little easier when you can crib themes from decomposing composers. Plus I think it's still an emerging sound that'll give us a longer life-span than the typical pop-rock flavor of the month.

"Maybe it won't make us all rich, but I think we can pull decent following out of it and at the very least get real comfy for a long, long time."

Animal then directed a finger towards Tweak, giving that member a bit of importance that Hellbound hadn't noticed yet. So far, the jumpy technician really just seemed to be a background element of the band.

"Tweak's our key to that. We'd need a ton of choir and symphonic backgrounds that, honestly, there's no way in hell we can afford right now. Barring the unexpected use of the Freedom City Philharmonic and Operatic society, that's the only way we'll be able to get that complex of a sound.

"Even after we do start performing before live symponies, we'll still need him to draw everything together. 'Dude just has a knack for keeping varient themes together in ways that even I don't understand."

[Hellbound]

"But that's the future." Wally reminded them all in his cool, cutting tone of voice. "We're a long, long way from getting there. First we need to make sure you're going to stay with us, Mr. Sampson."

Hellbound snapped his head around at the guitarist, not really liking the use of his real name, particularly with the 'Mr.' honorific.

"We can't keep changing singers every few weeks and expect to ever get established. But if you show us that you can stay focused, keep working and don't let your day job get in the way of things, I think we're going to do just fine."

By the way he said 'day job', it was clear to Hellbound that he meant the whole superhero thing. Good publicity or not, it was something that could easily take his focus away from the band and prevent him from being the dedicated performer that they needed.

"Why don't you let me worry about that?" Hellbound answered back, not intimidated by Wally's unexpectedly strong presence.