A/N: This idea came to me while I was, surprise, surprise, listening to music. It was really fun coming up with the characters in a furry band, I tell you what. Even if the backstory is a little...lacking. Who cares, though, it's a one-shot. Enjoy, my peeps, and hopefully my enthusiasm shows through. :3
I love my work, the slate grey vulpine thought as he played the closing riff on his blue guitar. Creative, eccentric, and not much of a loner, Benjamin Carey was cut out to be a musician.
The twenty year old kit hadn't realized it, though, until the fates lent a huge helping hand.
For you see, Ben and his closest buddy, a grey wolf named Garrett Lupez, had been riding their bicycles on a little known trail outside of Corneria City when it happened. A small, unmanned ship crashed down barely a hundred feet in front of them.
The two furries stopped their bikes as fast as they could. Garrett completely lost his concentration and flipped over his handlebars. Luckily, both him and his bike were uninjured.
In any case, the ship, or more accurately the satellite, was definitely not Lylatian in nature. There was no question. Ben knew that the Cornerians had long ago abandoned satellites as a means of positioning and communications. Instead, the cheapness of routers and fiber-optic cable had allowed them to literally wire the entire planet together.
And all Cornerian-based satellites had been confirmed crashed or sent into deep space.
"Dude, we gotta see what's inside!" Ben had shouted. Throwing caution to the wind, and against Garrett's doubts, Ben bashed open the damaged metal. Inside, they had found around a hundred rectangular cases, each with the same dimensions, but different artwork on them. At least, that was the only thing they found that they cared about.
"What are they?" Garrett had asked, over his fear that weapons or aliens might be inside.
Ben opened one of them up. "It looks like some kind of storage device," he had hypothesized. "And by the graphics, and the small lists with times on the backside, I'd say it stores music."
"Music, huh? I wonder if it's any good."
"Only one way to find out."
They had shoved as many of the small plastic containers as they could into their string backpacks and rode straight home.
It was a miracle they had been able to access the data on the disks, since the fox-wolf duo later learned that the method of storage used was incredibly primitive. But thanks to a helpful father and a hardware expert that didn't ask questions, they were able to actually listen to the music on the four-and-a-half-inch diameter disks.
It was some of the best music they had ever heard.
Ben and Garrett spent the next four years learning at least thirty of the songs by ear on a pair of guitars and recruiting other friends to join them. It was a lot of work, but their ability grew like wildfire and their band grew from two to five.
On this excellent summer night, Crashdown was playing at one of the more upscale bars in midtown Corneria City. As one walks in, a decent sized stage is straight back from the door. The bar was to the right, and the space between was usually filled with tables, but tonight, it was full of screaming fans.
Crashdown was obscure, but they were on their way up.
Ben and his cohorts had just finished a song called Humanoid by a band called Chevelle.
But Lylat didn't need to know that.
"How was that?" Ben asked as the applause dissipated. "Ok, on a scale from awesome to absolutely amazing, how was it?"
The reply was another chorus of screams.
Benjamin Carey, rhythm guitar and lead vocals. The son of a red fox and a female skunk, he had kept his father's vulpine features, but wound up with his mother's coloring. The result was a grey fox with two white stripes leading from the top of his ears, joining at the base of his head, and running down his spine to the tip of his tail. That, and during puberty, he needed much more deodorant than the other kits.
"I thought so," Ben said smugly. Garrett stepped up to his microphone.
"So, any suggestions for our next song?" he asked the crowd.
Garrett Lupez, lead guitar and main backup vocalist. His skill on his black Flying V is unmatched. Oddly enough for a wolf, his voice is higher and bouncy in pitch, which makes him perfect for songs with screaming vocals.
They started shouting names of songs released on Crashdown's first album, only two weeks old. "A Stranger" was heard several times, as was "All The Small Things." However, out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw the door open. Two very familiar figures stepped in and sat down at the bar, looking at the stage boredly.
He no longer cared about the audience's suggestions. He knew exactly what song he and his band would play next.
Ben turned around and shared his decision with the band.
"Guys, we're doing The Humbling River next."
"Why? That song isn't set until the end of our performance," Garrett argued, careful to avoid speaking into the microphone.
"Trust me on this. If I'm right, our band will go viral on the Lylatnet by tomorrow morning."
The other four band members looked at each other, silently deciding no harm could come from it. They started fiddling with their instruments, retuning them for the upcoming song.
"All excellent suggestions," Ben said, facing the crowd again. "But we know exactly what we're going to play next."
"Well, you do," Garrett said snidely.
"Quiet, Garrett, you love playing this song," Ben replied.
"Yeah, you're right. I do. I hope the people you pick are better than last time, though."
The crowd murmured and exchanged confused glances amongst themselves.
"Garrett, why did you have to reveal that tidbit of information?"
The lupine smiled mischievously.
"Well, as my friend most haphazardly revealed, this song is going to require a little…vocal help from the audience," Ben explained to the crowd. "It's not that we don't have enough instruments, it's just that this band lacks a lot of…estrogen."
The crowd laughed. Many of the girls laughed decidedly louder than the guys.
"And this next song does need a couple girl voices. And one guy voice."
Ben traded his electric guitar for an acoustic one propped up against a nearby amplifier.
"So, any volunteers?" Ben prompted, sliding the strap over his head. Many hands shot up from all over the place. Many people jumped up and down, attempting to get picked. Sadly for them, only one female voice would be picked from the crowd.
Gotta make my search convincing though, if I am to get away with this.
"My, an enthusiastic crowd we have here," Ben said truthfully. His eyes scanned the crowd. It seemed the only two hands that weren't in the air were the two he wanted to pick.
However, Ben wouldn't let a little thing like refusal to volunteer get in the way of his plans.
"Alright, all the guys put your hands down. I've made that decision." 30% of the hands fell down. Ben eyed the two foxes sitting at the bar.
"You two, sitting at the bar," the grey vulpine called out. Half the crowd turned around to look at the people taking their opportunity. One of them jumped out of his fur. A spotlight traveled over to the pair, illuminating them in a bright white glow. The crowd gasped when they realized who was there.
The orange one pointed at himself, asking me?
"Yeah, that's right. Orange vulpine and blue vixen in the back. Come on up here," Ben continued. The orange one put his arms out and shook his head. The vixen glared at her buddy.
"Nope, man, that wasn't a request. That was an order. Get up here before I have Garrett drag you up here," Ben said, playing at the orange one's mercenary background. Garrett put on the fiercest look he could muster.
The blue vixen seemed to plead her case again. The vulpine rolled his eyes, finally relenting. They walked up to the stage; well, at least the vixen did. The vulpine appeared to half-walk, half get dragged up to the stage.
"Well, well, who do we have here?" Ryan taunted, knowing full well who they were. "What's Star Fox doing barhopping tonight?"
Ryan Jameson, bassist, backup vocals. A flame-colored falcon without much to say, he usually keeps to himself, although when he speaks, he usually has a derogatory remark or snarky suggestion. Most everyone attributes this to the pride common in birds, and they let it slide. Besides, he is a great bassist, especially when you consider those long, feathery fingers he has to use.
"I don't know, Ryan. I'm sure you all know who these two are," Ben said, returning his attention to the crowd. "But for the three or four people here who live under a rock, why don't you introduce yourselves?"
"I'm Fox McCloud…" the orange one said with a shaky voice.
"My name's Krystal," the vixen said with a smile and an accent Ben hadn't heard before.
The keyboardist, previously tuned out, suddenly realized that the hero of Lylat was standing in front of his Yamaha. Practically leaping off of all fours, he jumped over his instrument and landed with a thump in front of Fox, scaring him out of his wits.
"Oh my God, it's so nice to meet you, I can't believe you're actually here!" he shouted like a nine-year-old girl meeting One Direction. "Can I shake your paw? Please? Please?"
He extended one of his own and looked at Fox expectantly.
Fox, trying to make his tail go un-poof, exchanged glances with Krystal, then with Ben.
"You better do it, man. You don't want to make Cain angry," he suggested.
Cain Williams, the bipolar tiger with an affinity for electronics. Although he's prone to bouts of jealousy and rage, it can usually be avoided by the careful handling of sensitive information (like what topping will be on tonight's pizza). The band tolerates his antics because, plain and simple, they need him. They couldn't do two-thirds of their songs without a little synth support. Which, unfortunately, makes his the most important member in Crashdown.
Cain's tail began to twitch, a sure sign that Fox should comply soon. Luckily, he did, and Cain returned to his post, not taking his eyes off of Fox.
"That guy's weird," Fox commented.
"Oh, he's just a big fan, honey," Krystal said. She used her telepathic powers to check Cain's mind. "And a little bipolar, by the looks of it."
"Honey? Oh-ho-ho, look at you, Fox. Finally got a love interest, huh?" Ben taunted. "A real good choice, too, if I might add."
"Oh, thank you," Krystal replied, not missing the compliment. Fox simply rubbed the back of his neck with his paw and chuckled nervously.
"Ben, don't waste your breath. Krystal is so far out of your league that I can't even come up with the right word to describe the distance," Ryan interjected.
"Thank you, Ryan, for that totally unnecessary and hurtful comment," Ben said flatly. "Would you please grab the lyric sheets?"
"Whatever."
Ben sighed. "Anyway, how long have you two been…going steady…?"
Fox's tail poofed up again. His paw rubbed the back of his neck again.
"Well, heh heh, she's been on the team for three months, now…" he said, trying to take the easy way out. Ben didn't let it slide.
"Huehue, that's not what I asked, is it? Come on, my pals in the audience, remind this forgetful fox what I asked, please."
At least 100 different voices shouted, "How long have you two been going steady?"
If Fox's look could kill, Ben would be way beyond dead.
Krystal, on the other hand, seemed more than willing to play along. In Ben's mind, she seemed to understand that if one is at a bar, it's because one wants to have fun. The only thing the alcohol does is speed up the process.
"My best guess is about a month. Fox can be so shy, though. It's so cute," she answered. Not to be disproved, she capped the reply off by giving Fox a quick kiss on the forehead.
"Good, good. A month is about the longest I've ever held a girlfriend. In my line of work, the prospects are not good," Ben explained.
"Thank God for Rule 34," Ryan and Garrett said simultaneously. It was one of the rare times Ryan ever admitted he agreed with someone.
Either way, that comment earned a resounding laugh from all over the bar.
Except from Fox. There was no resounding laugh from Fox. He just continued staring at nothing in particular with a partly psychotic expression. One could only imagine what he might do if he snaps.
He'd probably torture me Leon style. Or tie me to the bottom of his Arwing and change altitude drastically, while still making sure I'm conscious and breathing, the grey vulpine thought humorously. Still, though, better make sure that doesn't happen.
"Come on, Fox, we're all friends here. Calm down and enjoy being part of the show."
"We're not friends. I don't even know why I'm still standing here," he replied, baring his teeth just a little.
"Sure, Fox. Of course you don't know why," Ben came back snidely, letting Fox walk himself into another trap.
"I really don't."
"Well, I think at least two of us on stage know otherwise."
"If you like being a dumbass, go ahead and think otherwise."
"Krystal, would you like to do the honors?" Ben prompted. Fox's eyes twitched along with his tail.
"He means you don't have a choice. We came here for fun, and I'm certainly having some. You're always so stressed with work; my point is, you really do need to lighten up, honey," Krystal told her boyfriend.
"Indeed. I think it's very clear who pilots the craft in this relationship," Ryan announced loudly, clearly, and to Fox, very obnoxiously over the microphone.
"Damn, Ryan, that was my line," Ben complained.
"You snooze, you lose, skunk-boy."
Ben glared at his bassist. The audience continued to eat it up. They didn't seem to care that the show had changed from a concert to a comedy. Every other person had a cell phone, or a camera, or some other recording device in the air, and every Cornerian was wondering just how much Fox would take.
But skunk-boy? My stink's barely noticeable anymore...
Meanwhile, Fox had almost finished planning Ben and his asshole band's untimely demises when Ryan walked up and handed him a piece of paper. Fox glanced it over, blood still boiling.
The words The Humbling River were typed up neatly of the top of the page, followed by Guy's part in an untidy, yet strangely readable scrawl. Lines were set up in groups of four, each line only containing five to nine neatly typed words. Towards the bottom, roughly ten lines were highlighted sloppily in blue. Fox took these to be what he was expected to sing. Key word: expected.
After the way he humiliated me, there's no freaking way I'll sing for him, Fox planned.
Suddenly, another voice entered his head. One that was not his own. The voice that belonged to his girlfriend, who just happened to have telepathic powers.
Oh, yes, you will. You don't want to stand there looking like an idiot, do you? She told him.
Dang it, Krys, I hate it when you do that. But she was occupied with scanning over her lyric sheet. Through a passing glance, Fox could tell she had a much bigger part, with at least twenty lines highlighted in a neon green color.
"As you can tell, guys, you just got your lyric sheets," Ben began. "I really don't think I need to tell you your parts are highlighted; that is, unless your brain is still clouded with rage, Fox. Get it? CLOUDed with rage?"
The orange vulpine rolled his eyes in disgust.
"Eh, I'm just joking with you again." If Ben had been talking to Garrett like he'd been talking to Fox, he would have given him a friendly punch in the shoulder. But Ben was afraid Fox's retaliation might not be as friendly.
"Which also reminds me; I'm one Cornerian-sized container of estrogen short. Any other girls out there willing to join us?"
The guys in the audience laughed at the reuse of the estrogen joke, but the girls weren't as happy. Responses were slow at first.
"Come on, you won't even have to sing, and you'll get to meet Star Fox," Ben pleaded. "Ok, I lied, you have to sing. But Star Fox, gals." He tried to sell his case like a politician sells his values just to get reelected. It seemed to work; a few more hands came up.
Including a rather unique one from the second row, right side. One glance, and Ben knew she was perfect. All he could make out from the distance and the blinding stage lights was her ears, which were unmistakably Fennec.
"I've made my decision!" Ben shouted out dramatically. The bar went silent. Ben stayed silent.
People began to murmur awkwardly, wondering who the lucky woman was and why Ben wouldn't just "spit it out already." Ben just stared into space with an overly dramatic expression of contentedness.
The audiences voices rose in annoyance. The lead vocalist let a smile cross his muzzle.
"Come on!" they yelled.
"Who is it?" they shouted.
"Quit keeping us in suspense!" they cried.
"Alright, alright," Ben relented playfully. "I'll tell you."
He let a claw protract from his right paw and pointed it at the characteristic ears in the audience.
"You, Fennec fox, second row, you've won. Come on up here."
A few cheers and a few rumbles of resentment once again came from the audience as the remaining 99% of girls realized they weren't picked.
She stepped up onto the stage, and Ben finally got a good look at her.
Holy mother of Andross…
The lead singer was captivated. The approaching vixen had long ears set more sideways, the Fennec tradition. Her light brown fur had purple highlights; one over the top of her head, the other two approaching the muzzle from both sides. She, like Fox, had emerald green eyes, and she carried that same air of confidence. Her tail swished side to side slightly overbearingly as she joined the small group of guests front and center.
"Woof, woof, and who are you, my lovely vixen?" Ben cooed, trying in vain to remain professional.
"Ben, are you doing your impression of me again?" A playful voice called from the back.
His head snapped back to reality.
"Heh, heh, heh…sure, Jayden…sure…"
The last member of Crashdown, but not the least, Jayden Koch-Parker, drummer. He's a hyper yellow lab with a naive outlook on the world. Almost as innocent as a five-year-old, and about as bright, the dog always acted like he had drank three cups of strong coffee. However, when he channels that energy into his drum set, it explodes as a blast of awesome bangs and rings surely to leave your eardrums pounding along.
"Hi! I'm Fara Phoenix!" she quipped happily, raising a paw in greeting.
Fox, who had been staring at the floor just wanting to get this over with, suddenly jumped at this name. Ben didn't know it, but he just invited Fox's ex-girlfriend from the Academy on-stage.
"Fara!?" he shouted in recognition.
"Hi, Fox! Haven't seen you in a while," she replied.
"I'll say. What'cha been up too?"
Before she could answer, one male and one female voice so crudely interrupted their game of catch-up.
"You know her, Fox?" Ben and Krystal asked simultaneously.
Fox recoiled at the sudden volume increase from two opposite directions. (Lylatians hate when this happens, it confuses their ears, which naturally want to follow sound).
"One at a time, please, sheesh. Yes, I know her. We dated for a little while back in the flight academy."
"Oh, Fox, you modest bastard. I hardly consider ten months to be a little while," she replied. Ben smiled slightly. He hadn't seen Fara as the type to curse.
Krystal, meanwhile, was busy sizing up Fara. A bit of jealousy, from which even she didn't know where, had sprung up inside her when she learned of Fox's extended relationship with the Fennec vixen. To be honest, she was a bit disgusted.
Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your point of view,) she made the interesting decision to vocalize her disgust into Cain's microphone. Anyone's best guess is that she was trying to be funny to the audience. Nevertheless, nobody noticed her sidestep over to the tiger's keyboard and synthesizer setup until the room was filled with her voice. It yelled a very clear
"You dated THAT?"
The bar went dead silent; an impressive feat considering there was supposed to be a concert going on.
"Hey, that's MINE!" Cain cried, feebly shoving Krystal away. No one cared about his outburst, though. Every person in the bar had turned and looked at the growing confrontation, including the hapless band members. Fara looked surprised and appalled at Krystal's sudden hatred. She decided to counter with a healthy dose of sad truth.
"I'll have you know, we were very close. Had Fox's father not died, causing him to leave the Academy, we'd probably be standing here as a married couple." Daggers flew from her eyes at Krystal.
Krystal, meanwhile, couldn't believe her ears. She needed conformation, and she knew just who to get it from.
"Is this true, Fox?" she asked, deflecting Fara's daggers at the shrinking vulpine.
In the background, Garrett had a hand over his face as he turned away, trying to laugh as silently as possible. Ryan was doing the same thing. Ben was ready to exploit the new situation for his own gain. Besides, Fox needed an out.
"Woah, ho, ho, Fara, you just put Fox in one hell of a doghouse," Ben observed dryly.
"Krystal started it," she pointed out childishly.
"Oh, please, give me a break. It's not my fault your ears can reach to Venom and back," she retorted.
Oh my God, this is too good, Ben thought. Look at all those cameras in the audience, by the end of this, I'll be more famous than Fox himself.
The two ladies were continuing their war of words. It was getting intense. Fara made a clever comeback on Krystal's tattoos. The band swore that steam was rising from Krystal's ears.
Heh, but only if everybody survives. I'd rather NOT have a brawl start around all of our expensive band equipment though. Better stop this, Ben finished his train of thought.
"Ladies, ladies, please. They'll be plenty of time to argue after the show, but for now, we have a song to do. Ryan, if you please."
The bassist walked up and handed Fara the remaining lyric sheet, working hard to keep that stoic look on his face.
"Alright, a quick rundown of the song," Ben began. "It's quite simple, actually. The beat's constant, each verse sounds pretty much the same, and if you compare your lyric sheets, you'll see that no one comes in until after I've sang sixteen lines. Hopefully, that's plenty of time to catch on. Plus, I'll be nice and cue you in.
"Until then, all you three have to do is stand there and look pretty. And for you two"—Ben indicated the two vixens—"that shouldn't be too hard, should it?"
He was about to cue his fellow bandmates to start when he discovered he needed to mention one more thing.
"Oh, yeah. You guys see the set of lines with parentheses? Whomever has the parenthesized text highlighted"—Ben shot a look at Fox—"will be singing about three beats behind when we get there. Everybody else will sing at the normal pace. And don't worry, Fox," Ben reassured, talking to the vulpine only. "I have that part too. I'll cue you in no problem."
The grey vulpine turned around, looked at Garrett, and nodded. Garrett, in turn, signaled to the sound and light technicians to start the Humbling River segment. They nodded, receiving the signal, and the bar went dark as they turned out the lights.
The lupine counted himself in. A dim spotlight illuminated him as he played the opening riff; a slow, echoed, and melodic group of single notes. It changed subtly every few beats, as if reminding the listener that indeed, time was still passing. The bass drum pounded once. Cain synthesized a background sounding not unlike an organ crossed with wind.
Soon enough, it was Ben's time to start singing. Another dim spotlight lit up the vulpine as he sang:
Nature, nurture, heaven, and home
Sum of all, and by them, driven
To conquer every mountain shown
But I've never crossed the river…
The same riff continued. Cain's background grew slightly louder. The bass drum began to pound a little more frequently, but still at random times.
Braved the forest, braved the stone
Braved the icy winds and fire
Braved and beat them on my own
Yet I'm helpless by the river…
After this quatrain, Ben was allowed several beats' break. The break lasted as long as Garrett kept playing the last quarter of the riff that permeated the entire song. If Ben remembered right, he did it three times. He noticed some of the audience members had pulled out lighters and glowsticks. They waved them as best they could to the subtle beat.
Fox noticed this for himself. He looked at Ben's calm, yet slightly pained expression. It reminded the hero of Lylat of the expression he kept around him most of the time. For that reason, and the powerful lyrics, he began to identify with the song. He wanted to sing along, but he had to hold the desire in until he was cued. He glanced at his sheet. Twenty lines to go.
Before he knew it, Ben started up again to a simulated violin, once again dutifully provided by the tiger:
Angel, angel, what have I done?
I've faced the quakes, the wind, the fire
I've conquered country, crown, and throne
Why can't I cross this river?
As soon as Ben finished, the drums kicked up in earnest. The light level of the stage increased dramatically. Garrett kept up his riff. Ben had four last-quarter-of-the-riff playthroughs this time. He leaned over and whispered in Krystal's ear.
"Alright, four lines until you come in. Prepare yourself now, I won't have the luxury of a break before your first quatrain. All you'll get is a cue, and you'll have to start singing."
Krystal nodded in understanding. Ben returned his gaze to the audience. At this point of the song, it gained structure. There were drums, many double-kicks. A few heads were bobbing. But now was not the time for petty observations. Ben started again, letting his vocal chords and the repetition stress the importance of these four lines:
Angel, angel, what have I done?
I've faced the quakes, the wind, the fire
I've conquered country, crown, and throne
Why can't I cross this river?
Not lying about not having a break, Ben took a step over towards Krystal, put the microphone between them, waited until the right moment, and gave Krystal the cue, which was nothing more than his index finger pointed at the vixen. They began, rocky at first as Krystal found the right pitch, then beautifully, to sing:
Pay no mind to the battles you've won
It'll take a lot more than rage and muscle
Open your heart and hands, my son
Or you'll never make it o'er the river…
Ben nodded to Krystal in encouragement as he started strumming the acoustic riff; nothing more than one chord played very rhythmically in the background. The drums played a little more strongly. The bass was now audible as well.
Fox was speechless. His girlfriend's voice was so moving, it drew his heartstrings right out of his chest. The accent was barely noticeable, too. He had never heard Krystal sing; boy had he been missing out! If it was possible for Fox to gain even more love for the blue vixen, it would happen on this night.
The Ben and Krystal duo started up once more:
It'll take a lot more than wars and guns
A whole lot more than riches and muscle
The hands of the many must join as one
And together we'll cross the river…
The drums kept escalating, Ben and Garrett kept strumming, Cain kept synth-ing. Midway through the previous verse, Ben had motioned for Fara to come over. She was confused at first, but then she looked at her lyric sheet and immediately understood. By the time the verse ended, the three were sharing the microphone, preparing to sing again. (The author would like to point out how remarkable it was to Ben that Krystal and Fara were able to share anything, much less the microphone).
Garrett cleared his own throat, knowing that he was to jump in here, too. The duo grew into a quartet as they sang the same verse again:
It'll take a lot more than wars and guns
A whole lot more than riches and muscle
The hands of the many must join as one
And together we'll cross the river…
Ben signaled for the band to keep playing the same music as they had during the verse, although they needed no prompting. It was simply the instruction during the concert performance of The Humbling River since the next bit gets a little technical.
The lead singer began to explain in a quick, hushed tone.
"Ok, good job so far, keep it up. Uh…Fara and Krystal, you two are basically singing the same lyrics with the same timing, and you'll be joined up with Garrett." Ben motioned towards his lupine buddy, his eyes focused on his guitar. "Fox, stick with me. You and I are singing the part in parentheses a few beats behind, so I'll cue you in. Oh yeah, and that final line 'And together we'll cross the river.' Everyone sings that. Get in position, quick."
Krystal and Fara nodded in determination and took the four steps necessary to share Garrett's microphone. Fox and Ben shared the other one. Once again, Ben waited for the right moment, gave Fox the index finger cue, and they starting singing as Cain brought back the synthesized violin:
(Nature, nurture, heaven, and home)
It'll take a lot more than words and guns
(Sum of all, and by them, driven)
A whole lot more than riches and muscle
(To conquer every mountain shown)
The hands of the many must join as one
There was a suddenly unnatural pause in lyrics as Ben held Fox back for a moment, then the bar exploded with vocals as everyone united to sing:
And together we'll cross the river…
"Alright, amazing, once more!" Ben said, barely in time to sing the next part.
(Braved the forest, braved the stone)
It'll take a lot more than words and guns
(Braved the icy winds and fire)
A whole lot more than riches and muscle
(Braved and beat them on my own)
The hands of the many must join as one
The same unnatural pause, the same short wait, and the bar exploded once more as all five of them shouted out:
And together we'll cross the river…
The audience roared in excitement as the band kept playing. The synthesized violin and bass dropped out, leaving just the two guitars and the drums, which Jayden was still pounding furiously in his own awesome way.
"Awesome, now everybody stay quiet. Keep looking pretty," Ben instructed to the three non-band members. The outro required no extra vocal talent besides Ben and Garrett. It was simply an exercise in timing.
And together we'll cross the river…
Ben sang this softly but with purpose
Fox was suddenly tired but proud of himself. The adrenaline rush he had gotten from singing those lyrics was only matched by fighting Andross in his Arwing all those years ago. He found it incredible how such a simple action could cause such a monumental reaction from the body.
And together we'll cross the river…
(Nature, nurture, heaven and home)
Ben repeated the line, while Garrett added the first line in the song in a distant voice. This outro was simple but moving in its own right
(And together we'll cross the river…)
And together we'll cross the river…
This short piece was sung in a round style. The audience waved their lighters and glowsticks around again as they reveled in the last bit of The Humbling River. Garrett's riff began to fade out.
(Nature, nurture, heaven, and home)
One more little round style pair of lines, and it would all be over.
(And together we'll cross the river…)
And together we'll cross the river…
A little ending drum work, a few final strums on the acoustic guitar, and it was all over. The rhythmic spotlights, which had been flashing, dimming, brightening, changing color, and doing all the usual things spotlights do during a performance, cut out, and the stage was bathed in blank white light again. The audience clapped furiously.
Everyone in the band took some deep breaths and some swigs of water after a song well done. Cain ran up to the front of the stage and did a handstand, because, well, that's Cain when he's in manic mode. He couldn't keep his balance for very long, though, and he fell sideways, taking Fox down in an unintentional scissor hold. This was much to the audience's amusement (and to Fox's chagrin); therefore another round of furious clapping was initiated.
Ben nearly spit his water out in laughter as Fox growled some words that don't really need to be repeated. Jayden ran up and pried Cain's legs open to release the humiliated vulpine from his sudden prison. The yellow lab offered his paw, and Fox took it. He was soon on his feet again, rubbing his neck in pain.
"Sorry about that, Fox," Jayden apologized. "Even with his medication, he still gets those mood swings."
"Either way, he's still quite…uncontrollable. This is what we have to deal with every time we practice," Ben added, speaking the truth.
"This has just been one massive publicity stunt, inviting me on stage like this. Hasn't it?" Fox accused. Ben's eyes went wide. He stared at Fox's once-again-angry face for a few stunned moments before regaining his composure. For you see, Fox had hit the nail right on the head.
The audience's clapping died down. Wasting absolutely no time, Ben swiftly changed the subject.
"All right, folks, I know your paws are probably hurtin', but can we get one more round of applause for Fox, Krystal, and Fara?" he prompted the audience. They complied without hesitation. Even Cain, who had recovered from his stunt and was back behind his keyboard, was clapping.
"Sweet, sweet," Ben thanked. "Alright, I won't keep you three any longer. You're free to go."
Fox was practically sprinting off stage when Ben called back to him.
"Oh, and Fox? You were right. Enjoy the fifty new LylatTube videos of your humiliation and singing," he said, giving an evil smile and a mock salute.
Fox rolled his eyes, snarled, bared his teeth, and ran to catch up with Krystal and Fara, who appeared to be chatting again.
"I'm not sure whether I feel bad for Fox yet or not," Garrett announced over the microphone. "But, Cain! Damn! That was one hell of a move you used of Fox!"
"You liked it? I'll do it again!" Cain shouted excitedly, looking full well ready to run into the audience and put Fox into another scissor hold. Ben, Garrett, Ryan, and Jayden all rushed up to stop him.
"No, no, no, that won't be necessary," Ryan said, looking the most concerned for once.
"Cain, Ryan's right. We only humiliate those who we bring on stage. The audience is off-limits," Ben backed up his avian buddy. Cain hung his head in overdramatic accepting sadness. A couple chuckles emanated from the bar.
"Well, unless we do that throwing pie bit we've been planning," Garrett pointed out.
"Yes, of course. When we throw pie, the audience is no longer off-limits," Ben agreed. The band returned to their instruments and positions, preparing to play their next song.
Can't wait until tomorrow, Ben thought, ready to see all those LylatTube videos he told Fox about. Can't wait until tomorrow.
"Amazing, great show tonight, guys," the lynx bartender said. "Can I get you guys some drinks? They're on the house."
Ben looked around at his fellow bandmates and hoped they were all thinking mutually.
"You know what? I think five tall glasses of Fichina Dew are in order," he requested. The female bartender nodded and walked off. There were no grunts of dissent from the band, which Ben hoped meant they were happy with the drink choice.
Crashdown plopped their furry/feathery asses down in the improvised green room, nothing more than a square white room, furnished with two squishy couches opposite each other. A coffee table was placed between the two couches, and spare band equipment was piled against the back wall.
They had just finished their performance at this better-than-average bar in midtown Corneria City, and they were reveling in the memories. Most of all, though, they were amazed how well things went. Fox McCloud had been on stage, he had sung with Ben (and his voice hadn't been too bad, either), and they had humiliated the famous vulpine as well.
"How did you know it was him?" Garrett had asked during a five minute break.
"Well, I didn't really notice Fox, I noticed his lady friend. I mean, how many blue vixens are there in Lylat, y'know? After than, the green, orange, and white blob was clearly Fox McCloud."
"That, and you've drawn enough fanart to fill a museum," Ryan had replied. Ben hadn't been happy with Ryan for the rest of the night. But then again, no one really stayed happy with Ryan.
Back in the present, the female lynx had brought in a tray with five glasses of a white, carbonated liquid. To Crashdown, it was their elixir, their power source, and their recovery. It was Fichina Dew.
"Awesome, thanks," Ben complimented, taking a nice long drag.
"Stay in here as long as you need," the bartender told them, then left to tend to her other customers. The band sat in silence, savoring it while drinking their beverages. After a night of standing next to their own amplifiers dialed up at full volume, it was exactly what their ears needed.
Eventually, it was Ben who once again broke the silence. Something in him hated silence for extended periods of time.
"Anyway, Garrett, great job on that solo in 'Til We Die," he said.
"Thanks, Ben, and you did a great job on the vocals in Breakdown," Garrett replied, returning the favor.
"Thank you, sir." 'Til We Die had been originally written by a band called Slipknot, and Breakdown had been originally written by a band called Dark New Day.
But of course, Lylat didn't need to know that.
"So, what did you guys think of the Star Fox voices?" Garrett asked curiously.
"Oh, you guys sounded great from where I was," Jayden said with that ever-present naive quality in his voice.
"That's cause you were surrounded by a bunch of drums, pup," Ryan said brashly. "Krystal was flat, Fara was sharp, and Fox...ugh, like rubbing two pickles together."
"Ryan, you're always so judgmental," Ben said. "I mean, we got Star Fox to sing. Nobody's gonna give a damn how they sounded. They're just gonna be impressed that it happened. Besides, we put more than enough humor into the before and after of that song."
"Like when Cain tried to do a handstand and took down Fox with his attempt?" Garrett remembered, laughing.
"Exactly," Ben confirmed.
"I shook his hand, and then I took him down...and I never got to apologize...and now he'll be mad at me forever..." Cain muttered weakly, starting to enter the depression side of his bipolar disorder.
"Cain, he's gonna be mad at all of us for a long while. Except maybe for Jayden," Ben explained.
"Yeah. Just calm down and drink some Fichina Dew and you'll feel better," Garrett instructed, knowing Cain as well as the top of his tail. Cain complied, but the subdued mood never really left him.
"You really think he won't be mad at me?" Jayden asked hopefully.
"Hell, I wouldn't be surprised. You spoke like one sentence during that entire thing. He has no reason to be mad at you," Ben said.
Jayden smiled, and he appeared to be on the verge of gloating. Before he could do much, though, there was a knock on the door. Garrett, assuming it was the bartender, yelled out:
"We don't need anything else, thanks."
"What are you talking about, kit?" a deep, gruff voice that was obviously not the bartender's asked. Ben, Garrett, and Ryan all exchanged wide-eyed glances.
Ben dutifully got up and looked out the peephole. A tall, muscular grey wolf was staring slightly confusedly at the door in front of him. He was wearing a blue vest, black pants with kneepads, a black, long-sleeve shirt, and black gloves. His claws were sticking out of his paws. In one arm was a six-pack of Solar Lager: Summer Ale. And on his face, covering his left eye, was a cybernetic one. Gold bands wrapped around his head, one over the top, and one around the side.
Benjamin Carey was staring at Wolf O'Donnell.
After a few moments of stunned silence, Ben shrugged his shoulders, took a deep breath, and opened the door, reasoning that anyone carrying beer probably wasn't going to hurt them.
"Can I help you?" Ben asked in as calm of a voice as he could muster, given that he had eye contact with the most infamous criminal in the system.
"I'm Wolf O'Donnell," he told the vulpine.
"Yeah, I can see that," Ben said matter-of-factly. "What's up?"
"I was planning to hit this bar tonight. When I walked in, I saw Fox up on stage, getting totally humiliated by you guys." He let a smile cross his muzzle, showing a few of his sharp teeth in the process.
"I hung around, watching the show. The song was good, but Fox sounded terrible. Like two pickles rubbing together or something." In the background, Ryan nodded in smug satisfaction, knowing for sure now that he wasn't the only one who hated Fox's singing.
"And when your tiger buddy took Fox down in the scissor hold..." Wolf started laughing, the humor of the memory written all over his bright purple eye. "Anyway, I figured that such a great performance deserved a reward. So here."
He shoved the six-pack of beer into Ben's paws without even giving him time to decide whether he wanted it or not.
"Well, thanks, I guess. You want to come in and actually meet the band, or-" Ben began, but Wolf cut him off.
"Nah, I gotta get going. I can't really stay in one place too long on Corneria, for obvious reasons."
"Ah, yes, of course," Ben agreed.
"I can tell you guys are gonna take off, though. If you spend your credits on a plane, let me know. We can meet up in Sargasso or something."
"Alright, then, uh...take care, Wolf."
"You too." And he walked off without another word, leaving Ben standing in the doorway with a case of beer. He looked at the colorful box, shrugged his shoulders again, then reentered the meager green room. He shut the door behind him.
"How the hell are we supposed to contact him, even if we get Arwings?" Ryan asked.
"Who cares, Ryan, he gave us free beer," Ben said. They needn't hide the case; on Corneria, the legal drinking age was eighteen, and everyone in the band was at least nineteen. The people on Zoness aren't as lucky, though, the age is twenty-two there.
Nobody really seemed eager to break into the case of beer, though. Everyone just stuck with their Fichina Dews. After several moments, Ryan vocalized an observation.
"Did anyone else notice how much Garrett and Wolf looked alike?"
Ben examined his buddy of seven years, and came to a similar conclusion.
"Hey, you're right. I didn't notice at first, but now that you've pointed it out..." the vulpine agreed.
"Oh come on, guys, you really think so? Personally, I think that's just silly," Garrett defended himself weakly.
"No, he's right, Garrett. You two could've been twins!" Jayden commented.
"Yeah, right. If I were twins with that guy, I'd probably be up in Sargasso doing-" Garrett tried to argue his point, but was interrupted by another knock on the door.
"Oh, boy, another visitor," Cain quipped in a depressing, sarcastic tone. Ben dutifully got up and looked through the peephole again.
Once again, he saw the orange vulpine with the contrasting white muzzle and the stunning green eyes. Instead of beer, he was holding his white jacked in a clenched paw, leaving just his green combat armor and red scarf covering his chest. He had that look of stoic anger on his face again.
"Guys, Fox is back," Ben announced flatly. Cain perked up instantly.
"Welp, while we're throwing normalcy out of the window tonight, I think I'll break into the beer," Ryan announced back, breaking open the box and pulling a dark brown bottle out of it.
Ben rolled his eyes as he answered the door as perkily as possible.
"Hey, Fox, what's-" Ben tried to greet him in a civilized matter. Instead of receiving a friendly "hello" in return, he got a fist to the jaw. Ben felt the knuckles scrape the length of his mouth to the end of his muzzle as the orange vulpine followed through. He stumbled backwards, disoriented and in pain, nearly pratfalling onto the coffee table. Luckily, he didn't, otherwise he would have spent weeks getting the sticky soda out of the fur on his face.
Subsequently, the room was filled with shouts of surprise and anger from the band. The remaining four jumped to their feet. Only Cain attempted retaliation; he tried to do his handstand-scissor hold combo again. Fox sidestepped it boredly, letting the angered tiger fly down the hallway and crash hard into the emergency exit door. He laid there in a heap, unable and/or unwilling to get up.
"What the HELL was THAT?!" Ryan and Garrett shouted simultaneously, their voices mixing not too harmoniously.
"That," Fox explained calmly. "was for humiliating me on that stage. That song, however was fun. We'll talk later, deal?"
Before anyone could answer, Fox walked away as quietly as he had come.
Ben slowly regained his composure. Garrett helped steady his vulpine pal. Ben smacked his lips when his tongue registered the taste of blood. He rubbed the back of his paw against the side of his mouth. He wasn't too surprised when it came back shiny with dark red blood.
"Geez, that hurts. A simple apology request would've sufficed," Ben complained.
"Knowing you, Ben, it probably wouldn't have," Ryan quipped.
"Once again, Ryan: not helping."
"Hey, truth hurts. In this case, literally." To top off his point, he took a long gulp of beer. "This is some good beer," he commented.
Ben thought for a moment.
"Let me try that," Ben said, taking his own bottle of Solar Lager: Summer Ale. It couldn't hurt; the lead singer had been through a lot. A path to inebriation seemed welcoming on this strangest of nights.
Cain crawled through the still open doorway, too lazy, and maybe in too much pain, to climb onto a couch. He curled up into a striped ball on the floor between the door and coffee table, looking utterly exhausted. They'd probably have to drag him out of the bar when they decided to leave.
No sooner had Cain finished his little display when a blue vixen entered the doorway. When no one noticed her presence, she rapped on the inside wall of the green room. Garrett looked up lazily.
"Krystal?" he asked, stone-grey eyes widening. "What are you doing here?"
"Did Fox come by here on the warpath?" she asked back.
"Yes, he did," Ben said loudly and protractedly. He took his paw off his muzzle and showed Krystal the dried blood on his cheek.
"I assume that's why your tiger's on the floor, too?" Krystal queried. Ben nodded slowly but angrily.
"Listen, I'm sorry about that. They started taunting him at the bar after the song, and he drank more alcohol than usual, and the situation just...deteriorated."
"Wait, you're sorry about it? I thought you would be taking Fox's side," Garrett replied.
"Normally, yes, I would. But...he's too serious. I was hoping your invitation on stage would help loosen him up, but it turned out to only make it worse. I'm really sorry if he knocked out a fang or two."
"To be fair, I was a little hard on him," Ben admitted. "He really is too serious, though. We had the same intention, if you think about it. Anyway, apology accepted, Krystal."
"That's good to hear," she said with a cute smile. "If, for whatever reason, you get some Arwings, it'd be great if you could come on the Great Fox and we could give a formal apology. Maybe chat in a normal situation, too."
Everyone sort of nodded in agreement. Ryan was ready to point out the same contact problem as soon as he got the chance. Garrett glared at him, hoping he wouldn't bring it up again.
"Sounds like a plan," Ben accepted.
"Awesome. See you later, as they say," and Krystal took her leave, shutting the door behind her.
"Once again," Ryan started. "How are we supposed to contact them, or even find the Great Fox?"
Garrett facepalmed.
"Ryan, don't you know when you're being ignored?" the lupine asked, obviously fed up with the avian's attitude.
He simply shrugged his shoulders in contentedness.
Ben took a sip of beer, washing the blood in his mouth down with it. He hadn't spit any teeth out yet; that was a good sign. Hopefully, after a time, the beer would help dull the pain, too.
Nobody really spoke outside of Cain's soft moans. Everyone just sort of hung out, looking at each other but not speaking, taking intermittent sips of either Fichina Dew or Solar Lager.
Jayden sneezed.
And, since Crashdown is completely unable to catch a break on this night, someone rapped on the door for the fourth time. Everyone silently nominated Ben to answer the door by looking at him.
"Oh, don't everyone rush to the door at once," he said in a provoked sarcasm, standing up in the process. Ben stepped over Cain's still form. So still, in fact, one might think he was dead. Upon closer inspection, though, Ben found that he had just fallen asleep.
He sighed angrily and looked out the peephole for the umpteenth time. The face he saw made him forget all the pain and anger started by Fox not ten minutes before.
Fara was standing at the door, as cute as ever. Her long ears were contrasted by her small height and picturesque facial features. Her purple top and blue jeans clashed perfectly with her light orange fur and gave more definition to her purple highlights. Ben was ready to giggle like a schoolboy getting the first good look at his crush.
He tore open the door. Fara jumped in surprise.
"Hi, Fara, what's up?" he asked not so smoothly.
"Just wanted to stop by and say hi before I go home," she remarked. Her face changed when she noticed the blood still caked onto Ben's muzzle fur.
"Have you been bleeding?" she asked concernedly. Before Ben could explain, Fara made the connection in her head.
"Fox came by here, didn't he?"
"You know he went on the warpath, too?" Ben asked flatly, borrowing Krystal's expression.
"It was only a matter of time, they were ripping into him pretty hard at the bar...Krys and I could only sit and watch. Eventually he stormed off in the direction of the stage," she explained.
"Pretty obvious from there, huh?" Ben asked. Fara simply nodded. "I'll be fine. I haven't spit up any teeth or anything, I figure that's good."
Fara laughed. The sound was more intoxicating to Ben than the beer ever could be. He decided to take his chance. Now or never.
"It's great to see you, though. There was something I really didn't get to ask while we were on stage..."
"Oh, yeah? What's that?" she asked playfully, green eyes revealing the smile better than any muzzle.
"If you're not busy tomorrow evening...heh...do you want to meet up for dinner? Maybe a movie? I hear that new zombie flick is good." His relatively stoic expression was a complete lie to the giddiness he was feeling inside.
"That sounds awesome, Ben. I love horror movies."
Score! Jackpot! Royal Flush! Et cetera! Ben thought.
"How about meeting at the Grand Thirty Theaters at 1800?" Ben proposed. 24-hour time was the norm on Corneria.
"Perfect. See you there, kit," she accepted. They dispensed with good-byes and shares a hug before Ben's crush strode back into the bar area and out of sight. Ben wasn't sure, but he thought Fara had swished her tail around more than usual for walking.
His erotic mind was perfectly okay with that.
When he sat back down on the couch in the green room, he was met with snide smiles from Garrett and Ryan. Even Jayden seemed to be in on it; surprising, given his record of innocence.
"Nice crush there, Ben, what's next, drooling over a headshot of her?" Ryan asked. Pretty bad joke for someone of Ryan's ability.
"Wouldn't be ashamed of it, Ryan," Ben replied, his mind still somewhere else. "Wouldn't be ashamed of it."
Ben's mind was firmly stuck on Fara as he sipped some more beer. They certainly had an interesting way of meeting. During the day, Ben had met Fox McCloud, his girlfriend, Krystal, and his own love interest, all because of one song. He had thoroughly humiliated Fox, gotten free beer from Wolf O'Donnell, and gotten sucker-punched by Fox, all because of one song. He had gotten an invitation to Sargasso, and invitation to the Great Fox, and gotten a date with Fara Phoenix, all because of one song.
In all respects, it was a productive night for Benjamin Carey.
A/N: I admit, it did get kind of long. However, I just had no desire to rush the story for fear of degrading any quality it might have.
Be aware, guise, that I have ideas to sequel and maybe even three-quel this thing. If you guys want it enough, show it with reviews and such and other and stuff. Please. Do it for the children.
Peace out, guys.
:3