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 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.

Perfect timing, given the results of Hellbound's testing by Archeville himself. If the good doktor will properly chide him on the sloppiness of his performance, we can start him on a proper training program to justify spending two of those three points on saves: +1 Reflex +1 Will Sound good? Done by Sandman XI

That's what I was thinking, but in the Phase Four outline: I figured he was done with Hero Points but I wanted to double check. Plus, just in case, I resisted throwing an HP in to his efforts for the test. D'oh! 15 per PL. Not 10. That's right. Math is hard. Ah, the price he pays to have incredibly cool blood. So be it. Next month I'll have to decide between Hellbound either pumping iron or raising his saves. Hopefully he'll receive training to cover which ever direction he chooses.

Hrm. I notice that Hellbound's saves ARE pretty pathetic. They probably should be raised. I also notice that his most expensive (and least useful), ability is the burning blood that helps define his background and uniqueness. Would it be possible to find a way to lower the staggering 14 points to something more reasonable? I mean, after all, that's 1.4 power levels right there. What about reducing it to the fear effect alone, dropping the attack and attaching the Accident Complication as a Power Drawback to represent it setting things on fire when it's inconvenient for him?

"Nothing lethal?" Hellbound asked, having problems taking his eyes off of Moira's likeness. "Where's the fun in that?" Regardless, the whole run sounded like a trip to him. Paintballs or not, it was going to be a challenge. This wasn't anything that he'd put himself through before, it sounded a lot like actual military combat training. This was the sort of thing he was never ever able to put himself through before, and it would be interesting to see how he stacked up to the real pros. His entire life, he'd been relying on little more than his own superhuman physique to get him by. But now that he was in the game for real, an honest-to-goodness superhero who would no doubt be relied upon some day to save the world, then it would be necessary to start expanding his training in addition to his body. Hellbound stepped up to the starting line and moved into Archeville's alley of painted death. He tried to put into his mind that this was a truly life threatening situation, but he was just having problems accepting the challenge of avoiding paint. Unlike before, the rage that he normally could call upon just wasn't there. To be honest... getting hit with painted bats just wasn't that intimidating. He did okay, for a rank amateur. That had to be admitted. Even though he was having problems spotting the Moira targets before they managed to fire on him (or drop him into paint pits... or smack him with paint bats..), his agility was able to get him out of the way. Quite often the threat of dyeing was close, but he casually stepped out of the way or in general avoided the various pitfalls and hazards of the course. At first, that is. Only at first. Once the challenges really started to crank up and threat levels reached high-end-professional, he took his first hit. A bat snapped out of the wall to tag him even though he managed to avoid the tilting floor next to it. That's when he started to lose his edge, however. The course cranked up to what only the best-of-the-best should be able to handle, and Hellbound was lost. He found himself being tagged from all sides as paint balls surprised him, bats threw him off balance and pits dropped him into their shallow pools of paint. He really wasn't able to keep up with the mechanics of the course from that point on and it was fairly clear what his limits were for this one. By the time he exited the obstacle run, he was a dripping, multi-hued mess of tied-dyed superhero.

Ah. So is that a Hero Point in addition to the one he spent on the last test to gain partial immunity to the Doc's machine? Regardless... Notice Rolls... Part 1 Notice: 1d20 + 4=19, 1d20 + 4=16, 1d20 + 4=5 One failure. Part 2 Notice: 1d20 + 4=20, 1d20 + 4=11, 1d20 + 4=5 Two Failures Part 3 Notice: 1d20 + 4=9, 1d20 + 4=22, 1d20 + 4=24 One Failure Part 4 Notice: 1d20 + 4=13, 1d20 + 4=19, 1d20 + 4=22 Two Failures Part 5: 1d20 + 4=11, 1d20 + 4=24, 1d20 + 4=14 Three Failures Reflex Rolls... Part 1 Reflex (10/10/10): 1d20 + 7=26, 1d20 + 7=22, 1d20 + 7=20 No Failures Part 2 Reflex (12/14/14): 1d20 + 7=20, 1d20 + 7=15, 1d20 + 7=15 No Failures Part 3 Reflex (18/14/14): 1d20 + 7=20, 1d20 + 7=10, 1d20 + 7=26 One Failure Part 4 Reflex (16/22/22): 1d20 + 7=11, 1d20 + 7=8, 1d20 + 7=18 Three Failures Part 5 Reflex (26/26/26): 1d20 + 7=14, 1d20 + 7=10, 1d20 + 7=11 Three Failures

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?"

"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!"

"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.

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.

"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?"

"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."

"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.

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 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.

"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 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.

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.

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."

Nice Good month for Hellbound. Won't guarantee that'll happen again unless I get some good solo story arcs going again, though. Please spend two points on raising his Impervious Toughness Save by +1 Also, he's cleaned up his act a bit for... well... his act. Singing, that is. He's bathing regularly and has an actual costume now, plus barring any future feline purchases he'll be upgrading his wardrobe. I'd like to think that under the gruff and grimy exterior's a good looking guy. So please spend one point on the Attractive feat for him. The fourth will be banked for future purchase of his ever-illusive Adaptation power now that's it's been officially observed and recorded by Doc Archeville's gear. In addition to that, with permission, I'll work on establishing the use exercise machines at whichever lair (Scarab's or Archeville's), the Knights of Freedom decided to make their home. This will eventually go towards raising both his base Strength and purchasing levels of Super Strength in addition to the one provided by his Increased Density.

Hoo-haaa!

We should be. If I get anymore aerial jonesing going on, I'll find a way to work it into Hellbound's Playground thread (Singing for His Supper). Please archive.

They are separate because I initially declared the first thread to be complete and it was then locked down. Shortly thereafter, I decided to expand on the actual mechanics of his flight and opened up Part II. They may be merged into one if you so choose.

I believe this has concluded. Go ahead and archive if you so please.