"'Koh's Craver' for Shock Metal genre." That's actually pretty cool, I like it. "Iron Lotus would have been a nice name too, in my opinion. So three to one for you in this case *g*" xP Thanks. "I have Doro Pesch with 'Warlock' in my mind." That's a good comparison as well; probably better actually. I have to listen to 'All We Are' again lol. I haven't heard that one in so long. "Thanks for the rec, by the way." You're welcome! I always love hearing about new music! "I have given Attila a try and I think you've made an excellent choice for FoA and for Azula. It fits to her character, I think." Thanks again. I saw them live and just the energy and vibe they gave me is exactly what I had in mind for FoA. Lzzy Hale is another great choice.
"My first impulse was, that they seems to be some kind of a younger version of WIM." In a way, yes. But they are also very different; Kuvira's band was more mellow even in their prime, they didn't care for moshing and such. They also aren't quite as destructive on stage. "Azula also doesn't take care of her voice like Kuriva had done. I cannot sing (my friends, family and neighbors know that lol) but death-shouting needs good technique and a lot of skill and training and it still seems to cost the singer something." It's a beginner's mistake. A very dangerous one. One that Kuvira has already learned about; granted her vocal problems were mostly due to smoking and a particularly hard tour. "It also seems that both are driven by perfection and are taking business serious. Fitting for both characters, in my opinion and aspects of their canon characters. I see the rivalry due to their drive for perfection and their will to be on top. Only one could survive." The two do have that in common. They take their careers very seriously and they want to be the best they possibly can be. "Azula seems to be the mind behind FoA like Kuriva for WIM." Correct, though Baatar is pretty much on equal standing with Kuvira. "I like your choice of instruments for them, especially Mai at the bass. I couldn't imagine another instument for her!" Thank you! I tried to pick instruments that I thought would suit their personalities. "Azula is demanding perfection from all of them to keep on riding the wave of success. Focus and training and image. She sacrifices a lot for the success but this might hold up the danger for her, that she could loose herself on her way to the top. The piercings and tattoos are small bricks of it, things she normally wouldn't have done, but in the end she has, only for the fame and success. A dangerous way to walk on." That's something I'm going to let the fic reveal for itself. :P "Great to hear that. To have the right motivation for doing a story is so important." Exactly! I'm just hoping that this fic gains a little more traction/reviews; it got more attention back when it was 'Iron Lotus'. Even if it doesn't, I'm still going to continue it, because I'm having fun with the concept. "I'm looking forward what you'll have in mind for them.
Nice chapter and some kind of trouble for both bands ahead. Keep on banging head and having fun with your stories" Thanks again for all of your support and interest. I plan on throwing in some nice twists and turns.
The wail of Baatar's guitar echos around the venue as it dies off. The sound of P'Li's rhythm guitar had done so only seconds before. Taking a deep breath, Kuvira finishes off the acapella ending of the song. Once upon a time it had been a highly experimental move...to end a song with no instrumental backing. It had been a successful risk and it still does the trick when she decides to bring it back.
The crowd bursts into a series of cheers, claps and, whistles. Louder and more intense than she has heard in a long while. And, for a moment, Kuvira remembers the jubilation of their early days. For a moment, she feels as though she has regained some of the band's former traction.
She smiles down at the crowd and nods at their kind reception. It is the best she's gotten since coming into the Fire Nation. She watches Ming toss her drumsticks into the air and then catch them again. It is something she does when she thinks that all eyes are on Kuvira and off of herself. This time she gets a few claps, so she does it again, this time giving the drums a few hits.
Kuvira lets the impromptu display continue until the woman has had a full on drum solo complete with drumstick twirling and throwing. Ming ends it with a with a final toss and a final hit. The crowd cheers and she flicks one of the sticks into the crowd and then the other.
P'Li and Gazhan mirror the action with their guitar picks. The crowd momentarily, but frantically congregates in the directions of them. Once all of the picks save for one per band member have been distributed, they take their bows. "You guys have been wonderful." Kuvira notes. "I try not to pick favorites, but I think that this is one of our best crowds of this tour."
Baatar nods in agreement.
"How would you all like to take a picture with us?" She asks. The act of taking pictures with the crowd is a relatively new tradition, a trend started by Fire Of Agni and a few bands like them. As much as she loathes to admit it, it is a brilliant idea. A way to commemorate things and bring in a little more revenue. It isn't very easy to distribute the photos taken and their film reel is limited so they have to pick and choose which crowds to take the shots with. The rarity of the photos typically warrant decent money when their record label auction them off.
After claps and cheers of approval P'Li adds, "then give us your best Vaatu horns!"
Many years in and Kuvira still has to laugh at whoever coined that term. Vaatu didn't have horns, more like flared out whisps. No less she faces away from the crowd and slings an arm around Baatar and makes the hand sign with her free hand.
The Hakodak camera flashes. It's a fine model, she must say; a folding autographic model, black-brown in color. It isn't the latest model, but it is nice enough to get the job done and still earn a few buyers. The camera flashes thrice more. Kuvira makes a mental not to look through the four images after they print and decide which one to keep.
She leads them backstage and listens to the whooping and hollering until it becomes a familiar chanting of their band name, rather a shortened version. "Wrought Iron! Wrought Iron! Wrought Iron!" She lets them continue for sometime, building up the anticipation. "I think that they're ready for us to come back out."
"Do we have to?" Gazhan asks earning him a glower from P'Li.
"Yes." Kuvira answers. "We do. This is our best show in a long time. Let's end it that way." She leads them back out and stands before the crowd once more. The cheering intensifies until she believes that it is reaching its peak. Kuvira nods in approval.
They scream for her, for her band.
Staring out at them is like looking at an army awaiting orders from a general.
"I'd say that they're in the mood for one more." Baatar announces. He looks at Kuvira but she knows that he is addressing the crowd.
They give another collective and affirmative cheer.
"I don't know about that." Kuvira replies, eliciting a more energetic round of applause. "Maybe they are, after all…" She trails off.
They begin chanting the band name again, it is nearly lost under cheers and whistles.
"Alright, but you're all going to have to convince Ghazan."
And they go from chanting the band name to Ghazan's. It isn't quite the response she had in mind, but it will do.
"Think you can handle this Ghazan?" P'Li asks.
Kuvira detects the taunt in her voice and goes tense. Raava, she hopes that they don't start on stage. Not when they are having such a good night. And perhaps she is radiating this because Ghazan brushes the comment off and says, "I can. But can they?" He points his guitar at the crowd and they go wild once more.
"I think that we've reached a decision." Kuvira notes. "I suppose, since you've all been so kind, that we should play a new song."
"You all will be the first to hear it." Baatar adds.
The volume of the applause is greater than even before. This lot has a lot of energy. It lifts Kuvira's spirit some. A smile spreads across her face, one that she couldn't stop even if she had tried. Ming pounds out the first beats.
.oOo.
Kuvira flops onto the bed and blows out a tired breath. She ought to unravel her braid and shower, but she hasn't the energy. She said that they'd play one more song, their new one. But she played at least three or four. Raava, that crowd had been a good one. It had made her feel like they were in their prime days.
"Are you going to get dressed for bed?" Baatar asks.
She gives a dismissive hand flap, too drained to do anymore.
"Fair enough." He chuckles. "I guess I'll just sleep in my day clothes too."
Kuvira feels the bed dip as he crawls up next to her as he so often did. One of his hands slides to her hip and the other caresses her cheek as she presses her forehead against his. He kisses her good night. It is a rare moment, a moment where things aren't so tense. A night so good that she can pretend that there is nothing wrong at all. Not with the band and not between the two of them.
She squeezes his hand.
She wants to savor the moment, to drag the night on. But sleep takes her without her consent.
.oOo.
As soon as the sun rises, Kuvira is thankful that she has scheduled an off day. She is sore all over and her eyes still feel so heavy. She pulls herself upright feeling sluggish as all hell. The stretches she does as she stands, do little to ease the tension in her muscles. It is a familiar ache the kind that came in wake of dancing while managing an expensive microphone. Raava had she missed dancing, she wonders why she had stopped doing so on stage. She thinks back, unfondly, of accidently falling off of the stage. Of the incident that really set in motion their steady fall from grace.
Sometimes, in sleep, the sound of her leg snapping still haunts her. It was such a sickly sound. A sickly feeling when the blood started welling and worse still, knowing that she couldn't actually feel her leg. And faces, so many faces.
Watching.
Judging.
The magazines and newspapers had their work made for them.
Such a slow physical recovery had at least given her time to write songs, but that had hardly made up for the sheer amount of cancelled shows. They still had half a tour left. A waste it had been. A shameful waste. She thinks that, that is why it is hard for them to gain traction in the Fire Nation. They can no longer be trusted to stick to a schedule. The more she thinks about it, the harder it is for her to decide what exactly is doing the most damage; the falling popularity in their style of music or their own unexpected mishaps and shortcomings.
Kuvira pinches the bridge of her nose, determined to think about something else. This isn't how she wants to start her morning after such an optimistic performance. She motions for one of their firebender roadies to lightningbend their portable oven-another relatively new invention-in to useable condition and begins fixing herself a hot cup of green tea. She enters the time into the portable oven and puts the cup within.
As she waits for the thing to boil the water, she finds herself something to wear. Something very casual; a simple white T-shirt and a pair of green sweatpants. Baatar is already standing, shirtless, before the mirror when she gets there. Her eyes fall on the mechanical badger-mole he had tattooed on his chest during their first tour. He has another on his back, a large depiction of the mechsuit they had designed together. One day she ought to bring those costumes back on stage.
She watches him fumble with his small gauge earrings. She isn't all that fond of them, but she makes no mention of it, especially since she had kind of brought it upon herself. She had been the one to suggest getting them in the first place and suggested that everyone in the band get at least one-some extra metal for an Zaofu based metal band.
While Kuvira has little ink of her own she admits to perhaps going a little overboard with the piercings; an arch of rings on both of her brows—the final ring on her right brow linked by a small chain to a different piercing on her ear—a stud collar bone pierced, many more on her ears, and a lip ring. She has been considering getting a new nose stud.
She thinks of Ming-Hua. Ming who is a stark contrast to herself. Ming who isn't as adventurous, she keeps it simple with only a small navel piercing… the woman didn't even get her ears pierced.
And then she thinks of P'Li who is also pretty simple—the woman was more of a tattoo type. The only piercing she had gotten was one on her arm, a small ruby stud that acts as an eye for her fiery tigerdillo tattoo.
Ghazan is more like herself, having only one tattoo of Vaatu on his bicep but a collection of piercings. Most notably are his nipple rings, the man likes to make a point of reminding everyone of how much those had hurt. His ears are also pierced from top to bottom and more recently he had acquired himself some snake bites.
Kuvira squeezes next to Baatar and begins quietly unraveling her braid. In the mirror she sees Baatar lean in and slip his arms around her middle as he cranes his neck to press a kiss to the back of her own. Right on the one tattoo she does have; a lotus flower opening into a cloud of teeny music notes.
"How'd you sleep?"
"Very well." She replies.
"Good to hear. And how is your throat?"
She lifts her hand and gives him a 'so-so' gesture. It could certainly feel worse. She hears her roadie call to tell her that her drink is done. "Join me for some tea?" She knows by now that he isn't a fan of the drink, but she still likes to ask.
"I'll pass." He unhooks his hands and lets her return to her tea.
Staring into her cup she tries to come up with a way to keep last night's momentum going. She hopes she can cling onto her spunk for at least two more shows. It could do the band wonders.
P'Li comes to sit next to her, slamming a magazine down onto the table with force enough to have some of Kuvira's tea splattering on the table. "Look at this shit!"
Everything in the woman's tone tells, Kuvira that she doesn't want to. Either it is an article dragging them through the mud or something praising Fire Of Agni in a way they don't deserve. No, she doesn't want to know, but she looks anyhow.
Her nose crinkles in disgust. "That's not the same picture is it?" She hopes that she is mistaken and that it is the one she'd already seen.
"Nope, brand new."
If it is attention that the Fire Of Agni members want, they are certainly getting it. Kuvira tosses the magazine in the trash, thanking Raava that she'd never go that far for publicity.
What she doesn't understand is why they need it, Fire Of Agni already has all eyes on them. Perhaps they want to completely overtake the spotlight.
The magazine glares up at Kuvira from the rubbish bin.