Rock Band inspired bull. A good pal and I were messing around and made Dethklok on Rock Band, and we were working on earning our Nathan some money. Watching her play the guitar as Nathan was awkward, and made me think of this.


Toppled chairs, broken lamps and scattered papers littered the office in which Nathan awkwardly perched atop the cherry oak desk. Being the only piece of furniture he had not smashed or flipped over, he used it as a stiff and backless chair. His thick hands gripped less than professionally at the slender neck of the Gibson Les Paul he had attained.

"Damn, crappy strings..." he muttered, letting a deep grimace settle on his pronounced features.

He paused briefly to push his slipping reader's glasses back up the bridge of his nose. Once again, his fingers crudely found their way to a G chord. He glanced from his left hand on the neck, to his right hand and back to his left to double check his positioning. Satisfied, he locked in on his right hand and extended his thumb across strings, strumming from E string to E string. A less than pleasant, twanging sort of noise emitted from the guitar. Nathan's chest heaved in frustration.

"nnnnnnnNRRRAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHH! DAMN!" the frontman jumped off the desk and flung the instrument to the floor as he vigorously kicked the desk he had once sat upon.

"Ahem," a small cough from the doorway caught Nathan's attention and caused him to halt in his destruction.

Charles, the owner of the office Nathan had trashed, stood in the door frame. He seemed to be emotionally void and expressed nothing as he glanced across the room. The CFO's eyes finally reached the Les Paul laying carelessly on the floor. He ever so slightly raised his left eyebrow in the vocalist's direction.

"Yeah? Well? What do you want?" Nathan barked gruffly at him, chest still rising and falling laboriously with his rage.

"This is my office, Nathan," he stated plainly. "And I doubt Pickles would appreciate you, hm, toying around with his guitar."

Rather than respond in a respectful or coherent manner, Nathan opted to grumble and grunt incoherently and gently bent over to gingerly replace the guitar on the strap dangling from his broad shoulders. Now angry as well as surly, Nathan turned away from Charles and sat down on the desk again to begin his newest attempt at strumming out a G chord.

Charles smirked inwardly and took several strides into the large office. Silently, he watched Nathan fumble several times. After a few moments more of observation, he approached the struggling man.

"You know..." he began slowly, "if you curl your fingers more like this..."

He paused his speaking to take Nathan's thick fingers in his slender ones and helped guide his fingertips into a less rigid position on the strings.

"...then you'll get..." he continued, while guiding Nathan's clumsy right hand to strum, "the desired effect."

A practically flawless G chord rang from the strings. This, of course, warranted a slightly impressed sounding grunt from Nathan. He jerked his head back and forth to take mental note of the way his hands looked, felt and behaved on the guitar.

"Uhhh... Thanks," he looked up at Charles, who merely nodded and adjusted his glasses.

"It's always nice to see you expanding your horizons, Nathan," Charles commented, turning on his heel to leave Nathan alone once more.


Derp, there ya go. Have some pointless NxC semi-fluff. Hope you enjoyed, and please don't forget to comment. 3