Xaviers!

Right now, the Danger Room is arrayed like an old car park with the garage door open to a suburban street. Sam is there, watching a simulation of a teenage boy go through some simple beats on an old drum kit. After a bit, he steps aside and Sam takes a seat at the drums.

She's not... entirely without rhythm, but she's very obviously just starting out.

(Open)

Trev squeezed himself into a training uniform to do a bit of flying practice and wandered to the Danger Room only to find it occupied.

"Play Freebird!" he joked into the microphone from the observation deck.

"Har-har," Sam says with a smirk up towards the deck.

She's starting to get the hang of simpler stuff, and oddly enough her footwork on the bass drum pedal is spot-on.

"Don't suppose you've got anything helpful to say?"

"I played *flute* in middle school and high school before heading to Mutant High, so probably not," he chuckled.

"Pretty good at keeping time though. And you are surprisingly good at keeping your beats the same volume--my ears are actually pretty sensitive so I can pick that up."

"I've taken tap dancing lessons. Rhythm I can do, I'm just used to it coming out of my bloody feet."

"Well you've got several pedals in front of you on that drum set so I'd say you're in luck," he smiled. "Mind some company? I was going to try and fly but I clearly reserved time in here tomorrow instead of today, and I'm still sore from slamming into the Danger Room pavement multiple times yesterday anyway."

"The more the merrier. It's just a car park, not the Royal Albert Hall."

Trev disappeared from view and a moment later stepped out of the door leading from the virtual house to and into the garage.

"Trying to start a band or something?"

"Thinking about it. I keep trying to nudge Tereza into it, but she's the only one so far who plays an instrument."

"I've been informed 'lead singer' is a bit of a slacker way to get into a band," she smirks.

"Well that all depends on how you sing." Emilie interjected. On top of all her normal hoarder crap, she was lugging backpack full to the brim with God knows what.

"What's new pussycats?"

"Well I tend to think I sing pretty well, but trying to get an unbiased opinion out of Tereza might be a bit unfair."

"I have perfect pitch as a side effect of my power, so I could probably judge," Trev suggested with a friendly smile.

Oh god, why are there two cute girls here now. Oh shit. Are either of them teeps?

Trev waved cheerfully at Em, "We're apparently making a band for the next Mutant U talent show?"

"I meant less how well and more how period.

If you regular sing, it's taken for granted.

If you Mariah Carey high note or Metal growl than that's a trained talent."

Em tilted her head towards Trev.

"Ah yea? Been playin' drums long Sam?" She asked.

This was new, which made it interesting.

"Giving it a try. Seeing how much of my rhythm will carry over, aye?"

"Or I just like hitting things. One of those."

"Ahhh so we do have something in common." She mused smirking.

"Whacha playin' Trev? Recorder? Theremin? Maybe get your Squeeze Box on and channel your inner Yankovic?"

Trev chuckled, "Man, I wish I could play accordion and come up with lyrics half as good as Weird Al. I play flute, so I'm probably not much use in a band unless you're looking to cover some Jethro Tull. But I can do some interesting things with my voice thanks to my power."

"I think we're going to be aiming... kind of heavy, you know?"

"Like Steppenwolf slash Led Zepplin levels of heavy or we talking full on Cannibal Corpse up in here?

Seems to me Trev you could take either, but one is gonna require you to grow a bitchin' beard and I am not certain you're up to that just yet." She mused.

"I'm thinking closer to the latter, if my memory of Tereza's taste in music serves," Trev replied.

"Though I'm just inviting myself into this band without asking, so it doesn't really matter what I can pull off," he joked.

"It's not much of a band yet if it's just me and Tereza."

"Still," he smirked, "though I could probably help with a few things..."

Trev proceeded to demonstrate with a pretty impressive rendition of Disturbed's Down with the Sicness

Emilie nodded, looking reasonably impressed.

"Nice... but may I make a suggestion?"

"If it involves shaving my head the answer is no," Trev smirked.

"Ah, but the rest of the band would have enough hair to make up for it."

"My head is probably super lumpy and unattractive and I have enough issues getting a date without adding that into the mix," he joked.

"Actually I was going to suggest not auditioning with a nu-metal song unless you want their answer to be a resounding no." She laughed.

"Now now, he can't help that he got his musical tastes in a mall."

"You know, if liking a hometown band is wrong, then I don't want to be right," he smirked.

"Dude, don't give me that. You have Styx as an option."

Emilie joked.

"So, you gonna Meg White your way to fame Sam?"

"I hope I can manage better than Meg White," she says, making a face.

"Because Mr. Roboto is the pinnacle of metal sound?" Trev chuckled

"Mr. Roboto ain't gonna put up with that flesh-born bias against his personage." Emilie quipped back.

Emilie pursed her lips, thinking.

"Do you always practice here?"

"First time. I don't own a drum kit. Yet."

"So this is seriously your first time playing? That's extra impressive. You're really good for a beginner."

"You don't have to have a kit to practice away from here. You can practice where-ever.

Drum playing is all about timing. That's why people make fun of drummers: Good ones are precise, almost like machinery.

Cuzza that, you can practice your timing no matter where you are. Actually, all the drummers I've known tell me it helps to just drum your fingers against your own skin, like your leg or your arm? Because you can feel both the movement in your wrists, and the strike on your finger and limb to follow the rhythm.

Though I guess you'll need one when the band develops, heh."

Helpful Em was helping.

"Well I guess... a lot of things have a rhythm to them, aye?"

Trev nodded in agreement. "I just wish me hearing sound differently ...and sorta rhythm too... translated into skill on the dance floor."

"Just takes practice Trev.

Maybe you can help him out Sam?" Emilie suggested slyly.

"Well I'd have to resist the temptation to massacre him," she says with a cheshire grin.

Trev chuckled nervously, trying to play it cool but not succeeding. "Hey now, you wouldn't hit a man with glasses would you?"

A beat later, "I usually wear contacts."