Xaviers!

It's Sunday, the final day of the Battle of the Bands and the busiest day of the weekend by far. Even in the early afternoon, the plaza in front of the Marble Arch is packed. The stage is full of techs and band members, bustling about and setting things up, getting in each others way and negotiating how to best set up and swap around. The sound tech looks about ready to scream, but that's about on par for the tech crew at this kind of event. Behind the stage several tents provide loosely connected staging grounds and practice spots for the various amateur bands and is filled with the sound of instruments being tuned, riffs being practiced and a generally excited mood. Here and there people with clipboards are running around, checking to make sure people have arrived and are aware of their spots. Conveniently, all the performers from Xavier's University ended up playing close to each other. What a coincidence!

17:00 - Regrettable Growth (And The Enchilada)
17:30 - Kingkillers
18:00 - Three-Armed Sally
18:30 - Bitchcraft
19:00 - Will Stanton
19:30 - Poison Apple

21:00 - Announcement of the Winners and Encore Performance
22:00 - Festival Ends

Will was not super-happy with being second-to last on the stage, but beggars can't be choosers, right? Considering the names around him, his set was probably going to get lost in the noise and stagecraft, but that was alright -- all he could do was the best he could do; and fighting for prizes and fame weren't really why he was here, anyway.

He continued tuning his acoustic guitar by ear, not the easiest thing to do when half the bands in the event were all jamming around him. Still, he sat there, an island of calm in the chaos of backstage.

Elsewhere on stage, Shane knocked out a bluesy riff on his guitar to test both his tuning and his fuzz pedal. He adjusted something and did another, then nodded. Just right.

He had decided on a green, black, and yellow ensemble with a cloak and goggles to add a future vibe to his bard look. Only the goggles weren't made of plant materials, because he was getting quite good at the fake clothes thing.

"What the h...oh, Christ, you're not going on stage like THAT, are you?"

For a moment, Shane might thought that it was aimed at him -- but no, his Will had seen leather-jacket, acoustic Will tuning up, and was turning on him angrily.

"So, someone was desperate enough for a second they dragged you along, did they?" Acoustic!Will asked. "And what the hell are you wearing."

Bass!Will was in a long red longcoat, with a hat with a feather sticking out of it, playing into the medieval theme. It looked very much like a costume compared to Acoustic!Will's leather jacket and jeans -- David Bowie versus Johnny Cash, as it were.

"Listen, man, Shane knows his stuff, and we've got some surprises you're not even close to being prepared to be ready for. We're going to blow your ass off the stage," Bass!Will smirked.

"Sturm und drang. Or Strum and Drang, I guess," Acoustic!Will shrugged.


"Shit," they both added simultaneously. "That's a much better name."

Sam stalks through the area, twirling a drumstick in her hand.

Her hair is long and wild, and she's wearing a faux-fur vest with apparently nothing on underneath. What combination of shapeshifting, dark sorcery, or double-sided tape is preserving modesty here is anybody's guess. A large spiked collar hangs around her neck, with a chain dangling down and clipped to a belt loop on her heavily ripped jeans.

Oh good, dumb and dumber are here. I don't suppose you can turn them into a newt or something, save us all a little time? Sam's Will thought at her.

Well, sure, but all that bickering back and forth? It's not particularly dignified said the boy being used as part of an outfit at the moment.


"Sam? The wolfpack finally getting on stage, huh? I tell you, I was beginning to think you just were looking for an excuse to lock yourselves in a room with loud music to drown everything else out," Acoustic!Will teased.

"Never heard that one before," Sam smirks, giving a flash of what might be real fangs.

Both Wills nodded in approval of that one.

"Shifting is a major unfair advantage here," Bass!Will said. "If Shane had been going fantasy from the start, we'd probably have a troll and a goblin on drums and sax. As is, we're kind of going bardcore -- albeit bardcore with a sax.

I'll admit, it's a hot mess, but a hot mess that sounds good. Your pack is going to have it's work cut out for it," he bragged. "We've been working triple time to get this thing up to snuff."


"Man, cool it a little with the boasting there, Bardboy," Acoustic!Will scoffed. "I'm just here to perform; it's not about winning or losing. Solo acoustic guy with a guitar isn't going to sway the crowd anyway; not enough to stand out. I just have been itching for an outlet to perform for...Gods, how long have I been here? Four or five billion years? We'll round up."

"YOU guys, on the other hand, will stand out. That'll get you in the door, at least, so long as you can play." He paused. "And so long as no one asks too many questions about...sentient britches?
Well, I suppose we all need to have hobbies."

"I don't think 'Who are you wearing?' was on the sign-up sheet."

Shane strutted over upon hearing Will talk about hardcore.

"Okay, maybe we used some hardcore as reference for a more interesting sound but we're not playing a renn fair."

"So maybe lose the hat. It's a bit much," he added bluntly, ignoring that hats were his idea to start with.

"Whaaat, no hats?" Shari chimes in, having managed to fit a hat with a peacock feather over her voluminous hair which is now spilling out to the sides.

"Well, with that hair it gives a fancy Slash vibe to the whole outfit. Which is to say it works."

"So, we're Schrodinger's hat now? Sometimes hats on, sometimes hats off?" Bass!Will asked.

"Maybe you should try sleeping with 'em, Shane" Acoustic!Will heckled. "Then you'll get on the same page."

"Hats only when they won't make the audience regret showing up. "

"And no thanks. I'm not into sticking it in Play-Doh."

"Oooh, burning your own band mates just before the show," Acoustic!Will laughed. "A bold leadership style, cotton; we'll see if it works out for you.


Seriously, though. Good luck to everyone out there. Let's show them that Xaviers has more talents than just melting people's faces off with laser-eyes, right?"

"Maybe you could save that energy for up on stage?"

"Right. May the best shape-shifting musician win," he said with a small, confident grin.

With some time to go before their bands went on, the two, er, mobile Wills kept chatting, taking some potshots at one another but generally not making too much of a ruckus. Generally.

They turned some of their ire on the bands on stage, pointing out terrible singers and poor fashion choices; comparing them to musical acts no one from this universe would have known, occasionally playing a few stings on their instruments, both secretly knowing they were clearly better than the other, clearly.

Will's Sam was just sort of radiating the good vibes -- listening to the music and feeling the radiated heat from the people around him, he was having a damn good time zoning out and grooving -- even occasionally sutbly swaying side to side, perhaps the the consternation of the drummer attempting to prep.

"Alright, Kingkillers?" one of the organizers comes through. "You're up next so get ready. You got five to set up, after that it'll eat into your stage time." The young man briefly seems confused when he notices Will. "Wait aren't you... I thought you were the solo act."

"Nah, man, that's him," Bass!Will said, pointing to Acoustic!Will. "Too good to share the stage with anyone else, that one."

"Twins, right?" Shane chuckled, lying with casual ease.

"Alright team, let's get to setting up, and then we'll go leave them bloody speechless."

"What? No, they're U'tlop'rs." Shari 'helpfully' corrects the plant-man.

"On our mother's side," Acoustic!Will continued to the baffled stagehand.

"Break a leg out there," he added, swatting Bass!Will on the rear and shoving him stagewards.

To likely further surreality for the stagehand, a dragonman in an open militaristic black and red long coat with no shirt carried heavy equipment by.

"I know you're resilient and all, but do not break a leg, please." Shari stage-whispers to Bass!Will as she heads onto the stage with him.

"It's a figure of speech. I'll explain later," Will promised, before trotting out on stage and giving a big wave to the crowd, both hands raised over his head in an attempt to pump everyone up.

"Wooooo!"

Well put.

Shari's more the sauntering type right now though she does follow Will's lead in terms of engaging with the audience and points at them with a sweeping motion.

"Yeah! Yeah! Make some noise! Yeah! You're great! We're also great! C'mon, let's hear you, LondOOOOOON!" Will continued shouting, though not directly into a microphone.

He took his place to the left side of the stage, plugging in his base and hitting each string to make sure it was all jacked up and ready to go. "Woooo! Kingkillers!"

After a few more minutes of tuning up, Will started repeating the bass riff from the first song in the setlist, approaching his secondary microphone.

"Good evening, London! We having a good time?"

Pause. Will grinned, and then started talking a mile-a-minute, Elwood Blues-style.

"Yeah! We are Kingkillers, coming to you fresh, live and hot; the pride of Essex teaching all you boys, girls and everything else in between down here in London how we rock it back in the Home Counties. Sit back and relax, and we'll try not to blow your socks clean off.

Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Will the Thrill Stanton and that throbbing pulse you're feeling in the soles of your shoes and the tips of your fingers is the magic flowing from my axe, how y'all doing. If you direct your attention to the rear of the stage, you'll see our master of the skins, the percussion horde keeper himself, keeping time and feeling fine, mister Drake Martin."

A pause for a drum fill.

"Over directly to my left and your right, Kingkillers is proud to present the queen of the brass making her debut appearance anywhere in this city, country, hemisphere and planet, Miss Shari Skrullerton."

A pause for a sax riff.

"But we're all just window dressing for the man you've all been waiting for. Mr. Roger House Plant himself, the guy who puts the roots in roots rock -- Shane Marsh!"

With that, he gestured off-stage, letting the crowd build with cheers for Shane's arrival

"Is there band just, like, made of straight cheese?" Acoustic!Will said, sotto voice, to Sam and any of the other band members tuning up.

Shane discreetly sent out vines ahead behind himself as he strode across the stage to his mic, creating the illusion of flowers growing wherever he trod. Red and black rock n roll flowers. He looked like he was born to stand before a crow as he spoke into the mic.

"Alright folks. First, let me address the big green elephant in the room. Yes, our illustrious frontman is a bloody Green Man lookin' bastard. Get over it."

"Second, we might be considered a little experimental. But so were the greats in their day. So let's all hope we're half as gloriously awesome, yeah?

"And third... fuck it, let's just go."

He began gently singing as he strummed his guitar, his voice like silk and honey.

"Little black submarines
Operator please
Put me back on the line
Told my girl I'd be back
Operator please
This is wreckin' my mind

Oh can it be
The voices calling me
They get lost
And out of time
I should've seen it glow
But everybody knows
That a broken heart is blind
That a broken heart is blind... "

It sounded much like the original artist, but with the saxophone and Shane's own classical elements giving it a new and ephemeral sounding aspect. Then the heavier half kicked in and his inner performer was on full display as he moved along with the music, putting just the right amount of power into his voice.

"Pick you up, let you down
When I wanna go
To a place I can hide
You know me, I had plans
But they just disappeared
To the back of my mind

Oh can it be
The voices calling me
They get lost
And out of time
I should've seen a glow
But everybody knows
That a broken heart is blind
That a broken heart is blind

Treasure maps, fallen trees
Operator please
Call me back when it's time
Stolen friends and disease
Operator please
Patch me back to my mind

Oh can it be
The voices calling me
They get lost
And out of time
I should've seen a glow
But everybody knows
That a broken heart is blind
That a broken heart is blind
That a broken heart is blind"

All said, it was a bit mix and match but it worked.

"Wasn't planning on going up against Captain Beefheart," she mutters.

"It's a mess," Acoustic!Will agreed. "But...it kinda slaps? I mean, for what it is?"


You can dance to it. Kind of., Sam's!Will agreed.