Industrial Experiment
20-09-2004, 02:09
Shit shit shit shit shit! thought a tall, yet still young looking, blonde man as he raced around a small room, pushing past similar looking men, though several of them had different colored hair. However, something that was uniform about their hair was the length. In defiance of normal fashion throughout the Republic, these men had grown out their hair, several of them even past their shoulders all the way down to their backs. Unfortunately, hair matter very little to the man currently pushing his way past large stacks of clothes, a man that went by the name of Mike Young. He semi-rudely made his way by one of the other men in the room, a brown-haired man who's face was more rugged looking than most, having not shaved in several days, and he even sported a pair of ancient 'sunglasses'. The brown-haired man, John Scott, only managed to get out a quick, "Hey!" before Young was past.
"Ah! Hey, guys, any of you seen my tuner?", Young yelled from the corner of the room, after having satisfied himself that he wouldn't find it on his own.
"Dude, you put it in your pocket ten minutes ago", replied another brown-head, Matthew Cornal, from across the room.
Mike dug through the pockets of his semi-tight jean-pants, another rarity in this day and age, and eventually fished out a small device with several buttons, "Oh, yeah, there it is. Thanks Matt". He took another step forward, but stopped abruptly as the door to the room they were all in swept up and the strangest looking man of all stepped in, already talking.
"Ok guys, you better as hell be ready, because we're going live in ten minutes and I'm not going to have any group of misfits be late if they're my misfits", he said, idly playing with his chest length, curly, brown and grey hair, while trying to look intimidating despite his ridiculous form-fitting sunglasses and tie-dye T-shirt.
Young rolled his eyes, "We're almost ready George", he answered the man, half-exasperatedly, "and hey, Alex, throw me my axe", he said, turning to another of the men in thr room, this one a bald man with a long, blonde beard and a tribal-tatoo where his hair used to be.
Walking over to the wall near him and picking up a long object; big, semi-rounded, and red at the bottom, but only a length of wood with some metal wires all the way to the top; and walked over to Mike, handing it to him, "There ya go Mike, don't destroy this one", he mocked, and walked away chuckling. Young looked at his back with a sneer before he walked out of the corner and past George, closely followed by the four other men; John with an object similar to Mike's, but with a green bottom instead; Matthew with another similar object, but with a wider bottom and overall thicker neck; Alex with with a pair of sticks; and a fourth man, Tony Ilomi, swishing his black, chest length hair around and with a long, thing, box-like object tucked under his arms.
The group walked down a corrider, and as they did, a roar built up, slowly becoming louder and louder. When they reached a turn in the hallway and walked out into a wide space with three walls and a curtain along one side, it was almost unbearable. The older, hippy looking guy waited at the entrance to the corrider as the others took up their positions and waited. After only a minute or so, the curtain was slowly pulled apart, and as the mass of people from which the roar of earlier, made it clear that what they had been making before was merely a gust of wind in comparison to what they were capable of. The noise was nearly omnipotent, and would indeed seem so if the one that came next didn't make it seem nothing but a child.
Booooong...
The noise died, the crowd now silent.
Booooong...
The entire mass of humanity looked on expectently.
Booooong...
Booooong...
Seemingly from the depths of hell itself, another sound came. Nothing could quite adequetly describe the power of that singular riff, that one brush of an axeman's instrument. The rush of the crowd to the front, and the deafening yell they made, was nothing in comparison to this single sound. It went on for a couple seconds before it was joined by another, similar sound, and then the rythmic beat of a drum.
The music, for that's what it no doubt was, built and built, growing in intensity and power, until the dam that held back the entire thing broke.
Young grabbed the device in front of him, something called a 'microphone' in ancient days, and began his rush.
I'm rollin' thunder, I'm pourin' rain!
I'm comin' on like a hurricane!
My lightinin's flashin' across the sky!
You're only young, but you're gonna die!
That was it, the endless field of men and women went crazy. The security guards in front of the crowd and between them and the stage had trouble holding them all back, power armor or not.
The guitars went insane, the drums beat out a manic tone.
I won't take no prisoners, won't spare no lives!
Nobody's putting up a fight!
I got my bell, I'm gonna take you to hell...
I'm gonna get you, Satan get you!
An anticipation permeated the crowd the likes of had not been seen in millenia.
HELL'S BELLS!
Almost in unison, the people yelled it out just as Mike did, for love of the band, for love of the music, for love of their history.
The song continued for another three or so minutes. Throughout, the listeners were outdoing themselves again and again. Jumping all over, singing along, crowd surfing, it was chaos; Young loved it. As the song finished, and the last sounds of guitar drifted up into the high heavens, Young once more grabbed the microphone, looking out over the crowd.
"HELLO EARTH!"
The crowd screamed its response.
"All you motherfuckin' rockers lovin' the AC/DC?"
Pure joy was Mike's answer.
"YEAH! It's been two thousand years too long since anyone's done this level of hard rock, and we're here to fix that god damned mistake!"
Chants of Reef Monster were heard from all corners as Mike looked up, soaking up the adulation of those around him.
This was truely a monumentous event. No one had tried to revive this music in all the two millenia since it had died, and Young now understood what a mistake that had been. The guys around him, his best friends, his family, his fellow Reef Monsters, all looked at each, smiles on their faces and joy in their heart.
This was it, rock was back, and it was here to stay.
Young himself gave a single shout of, "REEF MONSTERS", into the microphone just as he and Matthew began to once more shred like no other.
=========================================================
OoC: I figured this'd be a semi-interesting RP for my fellow future-techians. Nothing like this seems to come along very much, and I guess I thought it was a good time. Just for ease's sake, I'll say that I send out a single, broad-range, communication into the galaxy at large at many thousands of times the speed of light, so suffice to say, anyone who had a reciever would know the date, time, and location of the concert. Note, though, that this isn't NS Earth, but a mathematical anomaly that is exactly like the RL Earth in every way, even located in an exactly-the-same star system, but on the other side of the Milky Way. I rule the entire thing under a government called the Human Imperial Republic of Industrial Experiment.
"Ah! Hey, guys, any of you seen my tuner?", Young yelled from the corner of the room, after having satisfied himself that he wouldn't find it on his own.
"Dude, you put it in your pocket ten minutes ago", replied another brown-head, Matthew Cornal, from across the room.
Mike dug through the pockets of his semi-tight jean-pants, another rarity in this day and age, and eventually fished out a small device with several buttons, "Oh, yeah, there it is. Thanks Matt". He took another step forward, but stopped abruptly as the door to the room they were all in swept up and the strangest looking man of all stepped in, already talking.
"Ok guys, you better as hell be ready, because we're going live in ten minutes and I'm not going to have any group of misfits be late if they're my misfits", he said, idly playing with his chest length, curly, brown and grey hair, while trying to look intimidating despite his ridiculous form-fitting sunglasses and tie-dye T-shirt.
Young rolled his eyes, "We're almost ready George", he answered the man, half-exasperatedly, "and hey, Alex, throw me my axe", he said, turning to another of the men in thr room, this one a bald man with a long, blonde beard and a tribal-tatoo where his hair used to be.
Walking over to the wall near him and picking up a long object; big, semi-rounded, and red at the bottom, but only a length of wood with some metal wires all the way to the top; and walked over to Mike, handing it to him, "There ya go Mike, don't destroy this one", he mocked, and walked away chuckling. Young looked at his back with a sneer before he walked out of the corner and past George, closely followed by the four other men; John with an object similar to Mike's, but with a green bottom instead; Matthew with another similar object, but with a wider bottom and overall thicker neck; Alex with with a pair of sticks; and a fourth man, Tony Ilomi, swishing his black, chest length hair around and with a long, thing, box-like object tucked under his arms.
The group walked down a corrider, and as they did, a roar built up, slowly becoming louder and louder. When they reached a turn in the hallway and walked out into a wide space with three walls and a curtain along one side, it was almost unbearable. The older, hippy looking guy waited at the entrance to the corrider as the others took up their positions and waited. After only a minute or so, the curtain was slowly pulled apart, and as the mass of people from which the roar of earlier, made it clear that what they had been making before was merely a gust of wind in comparison to what they were capable of. The noise was nearly omnipotent, and would indeed seem so if the one that came next didn't make it seem nothing but a child.
Booooong...
The noise died, the crowd now silent.
Booooong...
The entire mass of humanity looked on expectently.
Booooong...
Booooong...
Seemingly from the depths of hell itself, another sound came. Nothing could quite adequetly describe the power of that singular riff, that one brush of an axeman's instrument. The rush of the crowd to the front, and the deafening yell they made, was nothing in comparison to this single sound. It went on for a couple seconds before it was joined by another, similar sound, and then the rythmic beat of a drum.
The music, for that's what it no doubt was, built and built, growing in intensity and power, until the dam that held back the entire thing broke.
Young grabbed the device in front of him, something called a 'microphone' in ancient days, and began his rush.
I'm rollin' thunder, I'm pourin' rain!
I'm comin' on like a hurricane!
My lightinin's flashin' across the sky!
You're only young, but you're gonna die!
That was it, the endless field of men and women went crazy. The security guards in front of the crowd and between them and the stage had trouble holding them all back, power armor or not.
The guitars went insane, the drums beat out a manic tone.
I won't take no prisoners, won't spare no lives!
Nobody's putting up a fight!
I got my bell, I'm gonna take you to hell...
I'm gonna get you, Satan get you!
An anticipation permeated the crowd the likes of had not been seen in millenia.
HELL'S BELLS!
Almost in unison, the people yelled it out just as Mike did, for love of the band, for love of the music, for love of their history.
The song continued for another three or so minutes. Throughout, the listeners were outdoing themselves again and again. Jumping all over, singing along, crowd surfing, it was chaos; Young loved it. As the song finished, and the last sounds of guitar drifted up into the high heavens, Young once more grabbed the microphone, looking out over the crowd.
"HELLO EARTH!"
The crowd screamed its response.
"All you motherfuckin' rockers lovin' the AC/DC?"
Pure joy was Mike's answer.
"YEAH! It's been two thousand years too long since anyone's done this level of hard rock, and we're here to fix that god damned mistake!"
Chants of Reef Monster were heard from all corners as Mike looked up, soaking up the adulation of those around him.
This was truely a monumentous event. No one had tried to revive this music in all the two millenia since it had died, and Young now understood what a mistake that had been. The guys around him, his best friends, his family, his fellow Reef Monsters, all looked at each, smiles on their faces and joy in their heart.
This was it, rock was back, and it was here to stay.
Young himself gave a single shout of, "REEF MONSTERS", into the microphone just as he and Matthew began to once more shred like no other.
=========================================================
OoC: I figured this'd be a semi-interesting RP for my fellow future-techians. Nothing like this seems to come along very much, and I guess I thought it was a good time. Just for ease's sake, I'll say that I send out a single, broad-range, communication into the galaxy at large at many thousands of times the speed of light, so suffice to say, anyone who had a reciever would know the date, time, and location of the concert. Note, though, that this isn't NS Earth, but a mathematical anomaly that is exactly like the RL Earth in every way, even located in an exactly-the-same star system, but on the other side of the Milky Way. I rule the entire thing under a government called the Human Imperial Republic of Industrial Experiment.