Saws whirred and screamed as they tore through wood with ease. A loud clang of metal on metal as a massive hammer pounded away, forcing a shape on the thin steel sheet. The sharp cracking of a MIG welder accompanied by a flash of sparks and heat echoed out in short bursts. The sounds of Viktor's shop class, a mad cacophony of industrial progress, were merely playing background for Mordekaiser as he tried to turn the volume on his MP3 player up even louder. It was already at max which wasn't quite loud enough. The wailing guitars, machine gun drumming and hate fueled screams could never be loud enough for Mordekaiser.
The full force of a scrawny body slammed against him and dragged him from his world of nightmares and dragons back to Runeterra. He lifted the darkened shield of his welding mask, a custom made metal mask with three massive metal horns welded to it, revealing his eyes. Karthus, a gaunt kid with pale sunken features and a black t-shirt three sizes too big over his school uniform didn't even budge Mordekaiser, who was almost as wide as he was tall. Mordekaiser pulled the buds from his ears and returned the greeting with a sick riff from his air guitar.
"We're going to win the talent show for ssssuuuuuuuuure!" Karthus sang out, his raspy voice screeching out into an imaginary microphone for their millions of fans to hear. He pumped his fist in the air, two skeletal fingers protruding like horns.
Hobbling in to join the duo, Yorick hunched over and slapped away at a shovel which imagination had repurposed as a bass guitar. He shook his head to the beat within, causing his long black hair to fall forward and conceal his face. The three jammed out until their song reached a climax, punctuated by the ringing of the bell releasing them from another day of toil. The band quickly grabbed their backpacks and ran for the door. In a moment they were gone, only for Karthus to return and throw the horns up one more time.
"Thank you shop class!" he yelled out one last time to his hoards of screaming fans. "Rock on!" He ran back out to catch up with the rest of the band, leaving behind no actual screaming fans, but one not-entirely-amused teacher. Viktor simply sighed and shook his head, looking over at the mess of projects they left behind.
"Inferior constructs," he noted as he graded their work with a red pen.
Across the school, in a room as far away from any other clubs as possible, the trio had just finished practicing another song. Unlike before, they were now using proper instruments, the music no longer simply in their minds. The screaming fans however still only existed in a dream world.
"Yeah! This talent show is ours for sure," Karthus enthusiastically cheered. His voice was forever a rasp but refused to give out even after hours of screaming. "I think I felt a chill."
"We rock," Yorick agreed in a low tone that matched his instrument of choice, "but we're still missing one thing." Without saying what, Mordekaiser and Karthus turned to the drum kit behind them, an empty seat haunting the set. Mordekaiser sighed behind his mask in disappointment.
"I guess no one is showing up for tryouts today either," his voice rumbled out from behind metal. "Maybe if Janna would say we're the most kick ass band in the school looking for a hard ass drummer like I asked her too we'd get someone to show. But no, you can't say 'ass' during the morning announcements. Censorship is the worst fu-," a knocking at the door cut his rant short as the three quickly snapped their heads toward the sound. It was faint, a shy knocking that hoped it was simply overheard and ignored, sparing it from pressure of drawing attention to itself.
After a confused moment of silence, the door slowly creaked open and a shock of bright blue hair poked through just far enough for a single matching blue eye to peer in. The eye made contact with each boy individually before the rest of the girl's body squeezed through the opening.
Sona Buvelle stood almost pressed against the wall near the door, unable to move any further with the weight of the band's gaze on her. Her long blue hair was pulled back in two ponytails that raced down her back and to her legs. She wore a blue jacket and a long skirt that flowed to the floor, concealing her feet. As the door quietly banged shut behind her she jumped in a panic, looking as if she was floating for a moment and causing her to drop the duffel bag slung over her shoulder.
"Um, are you here for an audition?" Mordekaiser finally broke the ice. The girl nodded her head vigorously, confidence slowly building. "Really? How long have you played the drums?" Confidence shattered, Sona lowered her head and shook a no. She promptly held up a finger, asking for a moment as she knelt down to her bag and quickly fumbled with the zipper. After solving the puzzle that is pulling a zipper, she drew out a black violin case.
The latches to the case were much easier for the girl to open, the sight of her instrument emboldening her. She pulled the antique violin out and rest it on her shoulder, standing upright as she positioned the bow on the strings. She slowly began to pull a few notes, beautifully playing a score of long, somber tones.
But beauty didn't cut it for Mordekaiser, the self proclaimed Master of Metal. He folded his arms and shift his weight on one foot impatiently, coming closer and closer to simply rejecting the girl. Sona heard his movements, her eyes closed as she focused on the music. She realized this approach wouldn't work and quickly changed pace. Making the strings howl out in an ear piercing yelp, she started to play faster. Her fingers deftly worked the strings, the bow flying back and forth with a vengeance.
With a collective "Whao!" the three boys perked up and took notice, entranced by what they heard. It was familiar and new all at the same time. Sona knocked out a heavy metal guitar solo on the classical instrument. When she finished, a round of applause spilled forth from the awe-struck band members.
"I didn't know you listened to Vile Maw! They're one of my favorite bands!" Mordekaiser bellowed in shock. "What else do you listen to?"
Sona spread her arms wide to express the diversity of her musical styling. She then placed the violin back into position and played again. Starting with a more traditional classical, her genre changed to a folksy tune, then to country fiddling, into modern jazz and finally back to metal. Another short burst of applause followed.
"We have got to have that sound," Yorick said, giving his approval.
"Hmm, she has the sound, sure. But don't you think she's missing... something?" Karthus mused as he rubbed his bony chin.
Sona flustered, quickly digging through her bag yet again for props. With two quick tugs, a flip of her hair and some adjusting she stood back up. Her wrists were adorned with spiked black leather bracers and a blood red wig replaced her shocking blue hair. A quick application of black lipstick completed the transformation from school girl to succubus in a matter of seconds. The boys nodded in unison.
"Yeah, she's so in," Mordekaiser vocalized their thoughts. Sona bounced, unable to contain her elation, before remembering her new persona and simply tossing up the heavy metal horns appropriately. "But we still need a drummer..."
Sona opened her mouth as one who had just been struck with a brilliant idea might. She tapped her temple, then pantomimed a drumming motion.
"You know a drummer?" Yorick made sense of her actions. "Who is it?"
She began to reply before Karthus cut her off.
"Is it Jax? I bet he knows how to play."
Sona shook her head and tried to start again.
"Oh! Varus? He seems like the type!"
Sona again shook her head, irritation building. She composed herself and tried one more time.
"Malphite? He seems like he rocks."
"KARTHUS!" the other two boys yelled.
"Sorry."
After a shaming, resentful stare, Sona finally took a deep breath and gave her answer. She pulled the collar of both her jacket and shirt up, then leaned back slightly and pointed two fingers at the boys with a cocky grin on her face. After a pause, Mordekaiser had to confirm.
"Wait... you mean..."
"BROOOOOO!" The call echoed through the hallway, arrogantly demanding everyone's attention. The source of the call swaggered his way down the hall, both jacket and shirt collar popped as Sona had demonstrated. Twice the collar, twice the awesome. It's science. Sleeves rolled up to the elbow, two yellow wristbands adorned a meaty wrist with the slogan 'Now and Forever' embossed in it. The second wristband? Well, that was like a lifeline.
"Outta the way nerd," the spiky haired blonde said as he shoved another student to the side, knocking their cowboy hat askew.
"Nobody touches the hat," he muttered as he fixed it's position low on his head before slinking away.
"Brolaf!" Garen greeted with a raised fist, ready for bumping.
"Bromacia!" Olaf responded with an explosive fist bump. "Sup ladies?" he greeted the others. Jarvan, unamused with being called a lady, simply humphed his response. "So G-Man, where's your sister? She say anything about me?"
"How dare you-" Xin Zhao started as he moved in on the bro. Garen threw his arm up to hold him back, laughing nervously as he hoped the situation could smooth out. Xin was normally unflappable but when something got him going he had little restraint. So it was with a divine act (and an audible sigh of relief from Garen) that Xin decided to let the comment about Lux slide.
"Whao! Chillax man. I was just kidding," Olaf verbally defended himself. "So what's up for tonight? Wanna hit up the arcade? Grab some 'zza? Get a game of ultimate Frisbee going?"
"Actually we have basketball practice," Jarvan answered tersely, cutting the bro off from any more suggestions he may have had. His voice was cruel, the way he emphasized 'we' to exclude Olaf evidence of the fact.
"Yeah, sorry Brolaf. Maybe next time," Garen offered.
"Alright well hey, now and forever. Right Bromacia?" Olaf raised a fist and tugged at one of the wristbands with a finger. Garen halfheartedly returned the gesture, raising a fist but lacking any wristbands to show, as he turned to follow his crew to the gymnasium.
"Have fun playing with your balls!" Olaf yelled after them, laughing to himself as he checked to see if anyone else heard him. They did, but they didn't share any of his humor. Most of the other students simply ignored the bro and went about their business. He wanted to believe it didn't bother him, that he didn't feel so dejected by everyone avoiding him. But why would they? He was a friends with the popular kids. Well, sort of. And he was funny, he had all the best insults. So what was it?
Just as Olaf's thoughts were dragging him down, he heard someone calling his name and completely dashing the doubts from his mind.
"Olaf, we've been looking for you," Mordekaiser said as he approached with the band.
"Hey, whao, what's up with the face mask? You too ugly to go out in public?" Olaf saw eyes narrow through the slit in the mask.
"I like my headgear how I like my music," Mordekaiser responded. "Heavy and metal."
"Which brings us to you," Karthus added.
"We need a drummer," Yorick finished.
Sona nodded enthusiastically.
"I- uh..." Shocked, Olaf stammered over his words as his mind raced for a response. "I don't- I mean, I can't play the drums. Heh, you guys. Uh, crazy." He began to laugh nervously as he absentmindedly tugged at a wristband.
Sona waved to get the group's attention. She quickly pointed to her eye, then pretended to drum in the air, followed by rubbing her fingertips across her thumb (in the manner of one who was asking for money.) The seemingly sporadic actions had the bro at a loss.
"Uh, what?"
"She's saying," Yorick translated, "that she saw you playing drums at the music store."
Olaf swallowed hard. Busted. He had, in fact, been at the music store recently. Last weekend he had been out on the town when he stumbled across it. Bored, alone, he wandered in when he saw it. A drum set ready to be played. What harm could it do? he figured. After all, it had been a while since he last played. He just wanted to see if he'd gotten a little rusty. Had he known he was being watched, or rather heard...
"Alright alright keep it down will you?" Olaf spoke in hushed tones as his head swung around, checking for anyone who may have overheard. "Let's talk somewhere else okay?"
Back in the band's practice room, Olaf occupied the drum set with drumsticks in hand. He twirled them idly as he gazed back at the others. They had been waiting expectantly for a few moments.
"So if I play for you guys, just once, you'll leave me alone?" he asked, seeking confirmation for the third time since he'd sat down.
"Just play something," Mordekaiser barked, getting irritable. "We'll leave you alone if that's what you want after you're done."
"Alright," Olaf gulped, "here goes nothing." The bro began his solo starting with a steady rhythm. He then picked up the tempo and started to deviate from the simple beat. Sona smiled brightly as he continued, the others nodding in approval. He wasn't bad. In fact he was quite surprisingly good. It wasn't metal enough, but the potential was there. As he finished playing, rolling a close on the cymbals, he quickly put the sticks down and stood up.
"All done! I'm out. Smell ya later."
"Wait!" Mordekaiser stepped for the door, blocking the bro's escape. "That was great! You should join our band and play with us at the talent show."
"No way Brosé," the bro quickly answered. "Playing in front of the whole school? Not happening. One and done, that's all you get."
"Why not?" Mordekaiser continued, not budging from his position.
"Because, uh, drummers don't get chicks," Olaf responded, trying to convince both the band and himself of this excuse.
Sona put her hands together in the shape of a heart, pumping it in front of her chest with a warm smile. "She's right," Karthus added in an effort to help. "Chicks dig anyone if they're in a band!"
Olaf was backing up, looking for another exit. His hand tugging again at the wristband. They were getting closer to his secret and it was making him sweat. He couldn't just tell them the truth. His life as he knew it would be over. He'd have to pack his bags. Move back to the Freljord. Work at his dad's dealership.
"Look, how about just one more? With the band," Mordekaiser offered. "Let's see how we all sound together and then you decide."
Reluctantly, Olaf agreed. Better this than more questions. "Okay, fine. I can do that." The band excitedly grabbed their instruments and started tuning them when Olaf shocked them with a sudden moment of clarity. "So, you got a sheet for me to play off of or what?"
Mordekaiser looked to Karthus, who turned his gaze to Yorick, who returned his attention back to Mordekaiser with a shrug. "We don't really have anything," Yorick answered for them.
"Well, how do you expect me to play without knowing what we're doing?" It was a fair point. Even Sona had to agree, albeit with a pout. "Alright well hey, how about this? Instead of playing, why don't we go get a game of ultimate Frisbee going? And when you guys get some sheet music, say tomorrow, or never, then we play. How about it?"
With a round of shrugs, the band passively agreed.
"Is he dead?" Olaf asked as he cautiously approached Karthus's seemingly lifeless body. He was not dead, rather simply very close to it. Face down in the grass he wheezed for each breath to sustain him just a little longer. An uncharacteristic red tint took to his face as his heart raced like it never had before. Hobbling up, Yorick pushed the head of his shovel into the ground with a foot, ready to do his job.
"Do you require my services?" he mocked, leaning on the handle. Karthus simply raised an arm, a taxing gesture as it quickly fell limp. "Hm, then I will bury you alive!" He chuckled to himself as the exhausted singer simply couldn't defend himself.
The band had moved out from their practice hall to one of the fields behind the school. The sun hung low, casting off it's last light and painting the sky with oranges and reds. The day was done, and much like Karthus, it was changing colors and slowly fading away.
Activity of any kind were anathema to him, ultimate frisbee was no exception. He weakly tried to push himself from the ground and with a little help from Olaf (doing all the work really) he managed to sit up, a few blades of grass still imprinted on his features.
"Sports really aren't your thing, huh?" the bro mused.
"Float..." wheeze, "on..." Unsure of what to make of that, Olaf simply shrugged up at Yorick. The two had been pretty bad at the so-called sport, but they sure gave it their all. Olaf had 'much respect' for that.
While the three had been chasing the plastic disc, Mordekaiser and Sona sat off to the side, hard at work on their own project. Mordekaiser had brought his guitar, hooked up to a battery powered amp hanging from his belt. Sona had several sheets in front of her, all lined and ready for musical notes. Slowly the two of them were composing, Mordekaiser playing while Sona transcribed.
"Maybe we should get him to the nurse?" Olaf asked hauling the singer over to the other two. Karthus had one arm around Olaf's shoulders, the other around Yorick's, and the height difference caused him to drag one foot lopsidedly as he tried to walk. Yorick might have been as tall as Olaf if he hadn't always hunched over so much.
Mordekaiser looked him over, strumming a few errant cords as he did so. "Nah, he'll be fine," he deduced. "Besides, this whole living thing is highly overrated. And it's getting late, if we don't hurry they will close the cafeteria on us." Sona pat her stomach in agreement and hastily put her papers away.
"I'm going to shovel it in!" Yorick quipped happily, holding his shovel before him. Karthus managed a groan, his breath calming and heart rate slowing. Sona smiled, she actually enjoyed those kinds of jokes. But she put her face in her hand and shook her head anyway, not wanting to encourage it. For everyone else's sake.
"Hey, Brorick, I've been meaning to ask," Olaf paused for a second, wondering if there was an appropriate way to continue. None coming to mind, he pressed on. "What's with the shovel man?"
Yorick laughed, which turned into a small coughing fit, before he answered. "It's an heirloom. My family runs a funeral home and owns a graveyard. Final Rest Memorial. My father says this shovel was used to dig the very first plot by our forefathers."
"Creepy," Olaf shuddered, feeling a chill run down his spine.
"Yorick has the best job!" Karthus managed his first sentence since the game started.
"Corpses in his basement. Digging graves. And he gets to drive a hearse!" Mordekaiser's excitement grew with the list. "So metal!"
"Well, do you have to always carry it around?" Olaf proceeded. "I mean, maybe just leave it in your room once in a while. Try to be normal?"
Mordekaiser's scoff was the only response as a tense silence fell between them.
These people are crazy! I knew they were weird but... They might actually kill me! Poor Sona, she must be terrified. Looking over at Sona proved she was, at least outwardly, the opposite of terrified. The normally shy, quiet girl now seemed confident (though still quiet.) She was walking in full strides, making faces and signing her thoughts freely with the other boys. Olaf never really noticed her before. She always kept to herself, sitting in the back of the class or eating lunch alone. The Sona that Olaf vaguely remembered was meek, stiff and sheepish. The girl he was looking at now was bubbly, fluid and excitable.
They've brainwashed her! I need to get out before they make me drink the punch too! As the group neared the courtyard, Olaf planned his escape. It would require perfect timing, execution and no small amount of courage.
"I think I'm just gonna head to bed," Perfect! It's a foolproof, air tight alibi. Now sell it. Olaf stretched and forced an over-exaggerated yawn. "Real tired, so much ultimate Frisbee. Catch ya later!" He did it! He broke off from the group, distancing himself as quickly as possible.
"Aren't you hungry?" Yorick asked, freezing the bro in his tracks. As he looked back, he saw Sona pretending to spoon food into her mouth with a quizzical look on her face.
"Hungry?" Crap! They found the one and only flaw in my plan. Think fast, need to think fast. "Uh, nah! Heh, I'll just have a protein shake. Gotta stay cut. This guy knows what I'm talking about." He pointed two fingers at Mordekaiser enthusiastically before turning and running off.
Phew, close one. It wasn't until Olaf was in the dorm commons that he finally realized he was playing with his wristband again.
The bell heralded the end of another school day as students filled the halls. Olaf cautiously poked his head out of the room and ran his gaze up and down to make sure it was safe. He had so far managed to avoid the group all day, though he did have a few close calls. Now all he needed to do was get to his dorm room and he'd be safe.
He scanned to the left: Bromacia and his crew, nerds, Hat Dude, babes. It's safe. He scanned to the right: Mr. Ryze, more nerds, the po-po (Hey! Maybe I can ask them to protect me! Nah, asking two chicks for help? Weak.) No sign of the death band. Seems safe. Okay here's the plan. I'll take the long way to the right. It's furthest from their practice room so I'll have lower chances of running into them. Go down to the second floor and head for the center staircase to avoid the lockers on the first floor. Once I'm at the main entrance I'll slip out and-...
A weak tap on his shoulder startled Olaf from his thoughts. He turned to find blue hair and a shy smile bashfully vying for his attention. "Sona! How did-? Where did-?" He tried to make sense of it. How could she have sneaked pass him? Is she some kind of ninja? Or... maybe... "Were you here the whole time?"
The girl very minutely nodded her head, the corners of her mouth turning to a frown. Once again she'd gone unnoticed. Olaf let out a sigh, guilt hitting him as he watched her errantly fumble with a few sheets of paper in her hand. She extended her arm, offering him the papers as she turned her head to spare them the chance of meeting gazes.
Olaf stared at the pages. Music sheets. It was the drums, his part of the song. Looking it over, he flipped through the pages a few times and heard the music in his head as he did. This is intense. I've never played anything like this before. I don't even know if I could.
"Did you do this up on your own?" Shaking a no, Sona placed her hands on her head and extended her fingers like horns. Not seeing the spark of recognition on his face, she waved her hand in front of her face where a mask would be worn. Still not clear enough for the bro, she pointed at the bottom of the final sheet, where her and Mordekaiser had signed their work.
"Oh. Right. Wow you guys really did this in one day huh?" Sona nodded proudly, motioning spoonfuls of air into her mouth and opening an imaginary book. She twisted her face, wondering if he really couldn't just figure out what she was trying to say. They worked through lunch and study hall, she was plain as day.
Resigned to not having a clue what she was going on about, Olaf decided to shift the conversation to more pressing matters.
"Look, Brona, I've gotta ask," his voice softened to a near whisper and he leaned in closer, not wanting them to hear. Not that they were anywhere near enough to hear. "Don't those guys seem a little creepy? I mean, the whole death thing kind of bothers me. And they're kind of losers, you know?"
Sona crossed her arms and huffed at his words. She made a heart shape with her hands and put it over her chest before moving her hands up to her throat and mimed choking. She followed with a shrug and quizzical look on her face. Pointing at Olaf, she pulled her collars up and struck her best bro pose, before making heart hands one more time.
Olaf had no idea what any of it meant. He rubbed his chin. He scratched his head. He ran his fingers through his hair. None of this made her intentions any clearer. But he did have another thought. A brilliant one if he'd dare say so himself.
"I have no idea what you're saying but I know who can fix that! Follow me!"
Rushing room to room, Olaf flung open doors and scanned the occupants inside. Sona tailed him, hiding behind his size as each open door was greeted with confused and curious glares from those within. Finally, by the third door, Olaf found his target and pulled Sona into the room. Dragging a chair to the back of the room, Olaf spun it around and pulled it up to a desk occupied by a pudgy boy. His steel frame glasses were perfectly round. Looking up at the two, he tapped away at his phone with one hand.
"HELLO! HOW-CAN-I-HELP-YOU?"His phone spoke out in a droll, monotonous voice for him.
"Blitzcrank!" Olaf greeted him with extra enthusiasm, trying his best to warm him up. It was hard tell how he was feeling at any given time. Blitzcrank never showed any emotion on his face. He could be the happiest person in the world or in a sever state of depression, you'd only know if he decided to tell you with his phone. The popular theory was that he had a terrible stutter and was too afraid to talk. Others speculated a much worse, sadder story of some form of childhood trauma. Olaf certainly didn't know, or care why really. He was willing to put up with weirdness if it meant he could understand Sona.
"So look, buddy, we kind of need your help. See Sona here? Well, she's a muse." Sona leaned in to look at the bro with a puzzled look on her face. After a moment passed, Olaf decided to elaborate. "You know, she can't talk."
"I-THINK-YOU-MEAN-SHE-IS-MUTE."
"She's not a TV brah," Olaf corrected matter-of-factly. "Anyway, I was wondering if she could use your phone talky thing so we can finally understand her."
"SO-NOW-I-AM-YOUR-BRO? I-THOUGHT-I-WAS-A-NERD."
"What!?" Olaf exclaimed with false offense. "Who said that? I'll beat them up, the jerk." He balled his hand into a fist, showing he meant business.
"YOU-DID," Blitzcrank replied, his expressionless face a perfect contrast to Olaf's overly exaggerated display. "SEVERAL-TIMES-IN-FACT."
"C'mon brah, you know I was just kidding right?" He shrugged defensively as Sona furrowed her brow, looking down at him. "Alright, alright I'm sorry. Okay? I mean nerds are cool now anyway, so it was kind of like a compliment."
Blitzcrank ran the apology around in his mind, processing the words' sincerity and weighing it against the past distress he'd caused him. Coming to his conclusion, he tapped at his phone. "OKAY. I-WILL-HELP. SONA-MAY-I-PLEASE-HAVE-YOUR-PHONE?"
Snapping his fingers twice, Olaf held out his hand for Sona's phone. After a quick search of her bag, careful not to disturb the wig too much, she finally found it and handed it off. It was an older device, a few years off from the current model of Blitzcrank's. As Olaf passed it over he wondered if it was even going to run whatever it was Blitz was using, but without a word the boy connected the two phones with a cable and began a transfer. After about a minute passed, he separated the devices and tapped away at the older phone, getting everything set.
Handing the phone back to the girl, Blitzcrank tapped at his own phone, "FIRED-UP-AND-READY-TO-SERVE."
Sona took her phone and tapped at the screen. A look of joy ran over her face as she began to tap faster and faster, ready for the world to hear her first words. Her face ran a marathon of emotions; big smiles, focused determination, thoughtful consideration. If Blitzcrank could form a sentence in just a few taps, surely Sona was writing a novel. What things she must want to say, never having a voice of her own until now. What greatness had the world been missing behind the quiet restrictions? The veil was finally lifted, and Sona sent her words out into the world.
"ER-HEAR-ME-TALK-LULL-LESS-THAN-THREE-LESS-THAN-THREE-LESS-THAN-THREE." Blitz had made the voice a higher, feminine pitch for her though it still spoke with the flat, robotic monotone droll. The two boys looked at each other, one with a face of confusion, the other a blank slate. Blitzcrank gently pulled her hand towards him so he could look at her phone. The message still on her screen read: ur hear me talk lol (a/n it seems I can't use the symbol, she's texting little hearts)
"SONA. PLEASE-TRY-NOT-TO-USE-INTERNET-SHORTHAND," he tapped a response. Sona pulled her hand back and began to type, once again building up a rather lengthy reply.
"ESERRI-ILL-TRY-NOT-COLON-OPEN-PARENTHESIS," she frowned as the voice rang out. This time she held her phone out so they could read: sry ill try not :(
"YOU-HAVE-TO-SPELL-THE-WORDS-OUT. AND-IT-DOES-NOT-DO-EMOTICONS." The speed and quality of Blitzcrank's responses made it look so easy. Sona tried one more time, determined to make this work. She typed and typed, shaking her head at each correction she had to make. She read and re-read her words. With a critical eye she scanned the screen before she made the bold decision to delete it all and try again.
"ENVY-EM-COLON-OPEN-PARENTHESIS," she turned her phone so the emoticon aligned with her face: nvm :(
"I don't think this is going to work," Olaf admitted, vocalizing everyone's defeat.
"PRECIESLY," Blitzcrank seconded.
"What's not going to work?" a voice rumbled out startling Olaf. Turning to the front of the room, he saw as Mordekaiser and the band gathered behind him. "I got a text from Sona. 'You can hears me.' You is just the letter u, hears spelled with a z. Then a bunch of hearts and smiley faces and the room number. What's going on?"
Sona held up her phone and repeated the last message, "ENVY-EM-COLON-OPEN-PARENTHESIS."
"What was that?" Karthus asked as he looked around, not quite sure he trusted his senses at the moment.
"I thought it would be easier to understand what Sona was trying to say if she used Blitz's phone talk thingy," Olaf explained. "It, uh, hasn't gone so well." Sona nodded sadly in agreement.
"That's ridiculous," Mordekaiser rebuked. "Her signing is simple enough for us idiots to understand her just fine." He spread his arms to encompass Karthus and Yorick when he mentioned idiots. The gesture perked Sona up, causing her to blush slightly as she threw up the heavy metal horns in response. "That a girl!" Turning his attention to Olaf he asked, "So did Sona give you the sheets yet? You ready to play with the band?"
Olaf swallowed hard. He did say he would play with the band, though he hadn't actually expected them to follow through on their end. "I-uh..." cornered without an excuse, he sighed and submitted. "Yeah, I guess. It looks tough but, I'll give it a shot."
"Yes, let's go!" Karthus excitedly raced out of the room, followed by Yorick calling after him.
"Slow down, you don't want to faint again." He laughed a laugh that again turned into a coughing fit. Mordekaiser remained just a moment longer, sizing up Olaf as the bro stood to leave.
"Catch you later nerd," Olaf said, pointing at Blitzcrank. As he started to walk off he quickly turned back and snapped his fingers. "But nerds are cool now, remember?"
As the trio started down the hall, Sona gave a weak tug on Olaf's sleeve and stopped them. With a wave she signaled for Mordekaiser to go on, who nodded his acknowledgment and continued. Sona had her phone in hand still and she began to type something new. Olaf looked around as the time passed, wondering what exactly it was she wanted to say. Before she could finish though, he decided he had something he needed to get off his chest.
"Look, I'm sorry about what happened. Like, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I just wanted to help, you know? But I guess you didn't really need my help anyway. So... Sorry..."
Sona smiled in response and pushed the button on her phone. "TIE-FOUR-TRIN-SEMICOLON-CLOSE-PARENTHESIS-LESS-THAN-THREE-YOU-BRO." ty 4 tryn ;) 3 u bro
"Bro," he declared warmly, pounding fists with the girl.
"One more time bros, I know I can do this!"
As the evening rolled in, Olaf found himself in a peculiar situation. At first he felt he would just play his one obligated song with the band and leave, but he couldn't do it. It wasn't that he was no longer willing to. If anything his determination to play with the band grew as the hours passed. No, the fact was he physically couldn't perform his part. He read over the notes, played it in his mind, assured the band that the next attempt would be the one...
But he couldn't do it.
"Olaf, it's okay," Mordekaiser reassured. "We have two more days before the talent show, I'm sure we'll hit it before then."
Two more days. Olaf had to think about it while the others packed up their gear. Two more days. Was he really going to go through with it? Get on stage in front of everybody and play? Two. More. Days.
"Going to join us tonight?" Mordekaiser asked, the last one in the room besides Olaf. Olaf just shook his head in response, still trying to sort out his thoughts. "Another protein shake dinner, right? Well, you know where to find us."
With that the bro was left alone. He looked down over the sheet music one more time. Why did he want to play it so bad? What was driving him to try so hard? Drumming was never really so important to him before. But this was nothing like he'd ever learned to play. Heavy metal was raw. It was played loud and hard. It evoked a sense of bloodlust from deep within him. He heard axes on metal and the clap of thunder in each note.
And he liked it.
But what of his reputation? He had worked so hard to change his image. Being the only student from Lokfar, a peninsula region in northern Freljord small in population but large in size, he had a chance to become someone new when he started attending the Institute of War. A chance to leave behind his old persona and finally be one of the popular guys. If he goes through with this, it could mean the end of all his hard work.
The thoughts plagued him into the next day as the bell again called out the end of the school day. Olaf sat at his desk, escape a moot thought anyway, he figured, with Sona in his final class. He wasn't sure he wanted to escape the band anyway. At least, not until he'd played his part. Over the night Olaf had decided he needed to hear the finished piece just once. Then he would decide if he'd play with the band or not.
But the more he tried and the more he failed, the greater his frustration grew. He started slipping up on easier parts. Missing his cue and throwing the song off beat. At one point a drumstick slipped and flew across the room, nearly hitting Yorick in the head.
It was bad enough that on the day before the talent show Olaf was at his wit's end. He just wanted to play the damn song and be over it! Whatever drive or compulsion to finish this was starting to grate away at him.
"I think it's for the best we just call practice early today," Mordekaiser declared. "Besides, we've got some things we need to discuss."
"I was this close bro, give me one more shot!" Olaf heard his own desperation and attempted to recompose himself. "I mean, yeah, a quick break sounds good. Could, uh, someone pass me my drumstick?"
"So there's something missing. Something this band needs if we're going to be in the show." Olaf's mind raced as Mordekaiser spoke. He reached for his wristband and began to fiddle with it. He's going to replace me. I'm about to be rejected. Everyone is going to know and I'll look like an idiot. This is it. "Of course," the guitarist continued, "I'm talking about a name."
With an audible sigh of relief, Olaf rubbed the sweat from his forehead. As the others looked at him oddly, he just laughed it off in an attempt to play cool. "Heh, a band name. Yeah that makes sense. How about the Olaf Experience featuring Sona?" It was meant to be a joke, but the flat delivery of the comment sounded more like an actual suggestion.
"How about we mark that one down as a maybe and keep the ideas flowing?" Karthus said as kindly as he could. "How about Death Defied?"
"Omen of Death," Yorick suggested.
"Siphon of Destruction!" Mordekaiser added.
Sona waved her hands to gather everyone's attention for her idea. Pointing to each member of the band, she counted them on one hand. Then she put her hands to her throat and pretended to choke, her arms falling limp and her head laying to one side with her tongue sticking out.
"Five Choke?" Olaf guessed.
"No. Even better." Mordekaiser rose his fist into the air, reaching for power as he evoked the band's name. "Pentakill!"
"Pentakill," Yorick added to the chant, raising his fist into the air.
"Pentakill!" Karthus nearly yelled, his fist in the air.
Sona pumped her arm up to join the others.
Olaf rubbed the back of his neck, unable to lift his head in case he made eye contact with the rest of the group. "Yeah uh, look, I don't know if I'm gonna play tomorrow." Defeated, the fists fell and shocked looks made their way towards Olaf. "I mean I never said I would really. And besides I can't even get it right, I'd just mess up on stage and look even more like a fool."
"Damn it Olaf, you have a gift!" Mordekaiser barked, his rumbling voice echoing out alarmingly. "What is holding you back? Why don't you want to play? Why won't you share your talent?"
"Because I just want to be cool!" Olaf yelled back, surprised at how heated he was feeling. "You want to know how I learned to play? I was in the school band. A marching band! Tall hats and stupid ropey shoulder things and everyone made fun of me! I only ever got to play the full kit at the music store." Quakes of emotion trembled his body as his voice lowered. "I was a total band nerd and when I came here, well, it was my chance to be someone cool. I'm sorry... I just want to fit in."
Silence weighed down on the band like a thick fog, leaving everyone lost in a haze. No one was sure what to say. Sona was on the verge of tears, she wanted to help so bad. She wanted to make everything right and get the group playing again. The music was her release. But the disharmony in the room was overwhelming.
"Do you remember," Mordekaiser asked, his voice calm and low, "what you first asked me at the beginning of the week? What's up with the mask? I told you I liked my headgear like my music, heavy and metal." Olaf nodded, not sure he really remembered the question exactly. It sounded familiar though. "Well the truth is," he paused as he pulled his welding mask off carefully with both hands. This was the first time both Sona and Olaf had seen the boy without it. Beneath the mask, Mordekaiser had a bulky looking orthodontic headgear attached to his face. Metal rods ran from his mouth to the side of his face, where they connected to straps that pulled up in front of his ears to the crown of his head.
"The truth is," he continued, "I hate that my headgear is so heavy, and metal. I understand why you would want to wear a mask. If you want a place where you fit in, I'd say you fit just fine right there behind that kit. My mask represents who I really am on the inside. Does yours?"
Having heard all he needed, Olaf gathered his bag and walked out of the room without a word.
The talent show had been, so far, fairly mediocre at best. Draven's juggling, while boisterous as expected, wasn't as much of a showstopper as he'd thought it would be. The fact that he could only juggle two items at a time, and that he ended up dropping one at the end, didn't do him any favors.
Udyr's shadow puppets were a bit confusing and LeBlanc's magic show was off to a bad start when the rabbit decided to sneak out of the hidden compartment in her hat and hop across stage. Irelia didn't really have the space to show off her skateboarding tricks. Sivir's hula hoop tricks were actually well received. But Diana's attempt at standup comedy... well, the less said the better.
Needless to say, the band was getting anxious as each contestant went by. They hadn't seen Olaf since the night before and the way he had just up and left had them worried. "He'll be here," Mordekaiser kept saying, more to himself than to the others. With every nervous glance out to the auditorium seating, he'd hoped to see the drummer making his way backstage.
The truth was, Olaf had been just outside debating whether or not he should go in. He knew Garen and the others were watching the show and it was time he hung out with the cool kids again. But what if they saw him? The band...
With a deep breath through his nose, he opened the door and swaggered in. Applause sounded as another routine ended, Ahri still on stage bowing to the audience. She had on a shiny outfit and a headset microphone, she must have been singing something. Whatever it was, the crowd seemed to like it.
Olaf scanned the seats until he saw the Demacian clique grouped together near the middle rows. He tried calling out to them, but the clapping was too loud. With a shrug he started to make his way over, only to be pulled back by a hand on his shoulder.
"Hold it partner," the boy said as Olaf turned around. He had a cowboy hat low on his head and a grin wide on his face. His voice was smooth and low, the kind of voice you want to trust but you know it won't be good for you. Olaf was sure he'd seen him before, but he couldn't remember where. "Well well, looky here. Where ya goin', Brolaf?"
"Uhh, just gonna go hang with my bros," he answered in confusion. "Do I know you?"
"Maybe you should. The name's Fate, charmed I'm sure." He ran a hand up to his hat and slightly tipped it. That hat, where had Olaf seen it before? "See, thing is Olaf, I've got this gift. I see things others can't. Eyes open, clear as day. For instance," he drew out the last word as he pulled his cellphone from his pocket. With a few swipes of his thumb, he pulled up a video and showed turned the volume up, "I've got this great video right here of your friends. Let's see what they have to say, shall we?"
Olaf leaned in closer to the device, the applause dying down enough for him to hear. It was Garen, Jarvan and Xin Zhao talking to each other in the hall. In fact, this may have even been the day when he'd first met the band.
"I don't like him. He's a tool," Jarvan said as they walked.
"Yeah, I mean he's not someone I want to hang out with all the time," Garen halfheartedly admitted. "He's fine in small doses though, usually."
"Why does he wear those wristbands?" Xin Zhao asked. "Now and Forever is a Demacian thing. He lives in the Freljord! Who is he trying to fool?" The group laughed as they took turns mockingly adding bro to words before the video abruptly cut out.
"Feelin' blue? That one's not even my favorite," Fate's grin grew as wide as the brim of his hat as he queued up the next video. The door of a classroom could been seen, a sudden movement revealed the numbers on the door. It was the band's practice room. Some yelling could be heard inside and Olaf had to listen close to hear it clearly.
"-marching band! Tall hats and stupid ropey shoulder things-" was all he needed to hear. He knew the rest. His mouth dropped open but no words would form. The look of devastation pleased Fate to no end.
"Well, guess you won't have to worry 'bout being cool much longer. Once I upload this fer the whole school to hear, then we'll see who the nerd is." As his last words were spoken like hot coals, Fate began to laugh a smug, taunting laugh.
But Olaf didn't hear it. He heard the voices from the video mocking him. He heard as the band tuned their instruments on stage, getting ready to preform. And he heard a war-like drumming of axes and thunder slowly building. Louder and louder. He grit his teeth and reached for his wristbands, ripping them off and throwing them to the ground. Free of his chains, he balled his hands into fists.
"BOOM!" He yelled as one hand grabbed the hat, the other making contact with Fate's nose. As the entire auditorium turned to see what the yell was about, Olaf placed the hat on his head and ripped his shirt off, yelling a crazed berzerker scream as he ran down to the stage.
"WE ARE PENTAKILL! ARE YOU READY TO ROCK?!"
Pentakill went on to play their song flawlessly for the first time on stage. They received a standing ovation. While the crowed cried for an encore, the student disciplinary committee escorted Olaf off the stage. The band was disqualified from the talent show, and Ahri's popstar performance won by technicality. The band would continue to perform, getting gigs at clubs, parties, and one really awkward children's birthday. Of course their lives changed forever, as with many others, on the night of their biggest gig: Prom.
Olaf received a three day suspension for punching another student. When he finally returned to class, he was a changed man. He'd dyed his hair black, stopped abusing the word 'bro' and generally gave up caring what other people thought of him. His popularity sky rocketed.
Mordekaiser started making merchandise for the band. Along with t-shirts and stickers, he custom made heavy metal welding masks as well. Even after his dental work was done the braces were removed, he continued to wear the mask.
Karthus took up jogging, slowly building his stamina. He now leads a more active lifestyle, which translates into him jumping around on stage and screaming non-stop without losing his breath.
Yorick spent his savings from his summer job on a van to haul the band's gear from gig to gig. It gets terrible gas mileage, has a funny smell in the back and has been needed to be pushed on more than one occasion. But it has a wicked cool airbrushing of a purple, acid spitting, razor-toothed wurm on the side. The band has taken to calling the vehicle Baron Nashor.
Sona remained with the band, but also branched out and explored other genres of music. She created a techno-fusion album that became a huge hit in the local arcade scene. When the band was asked if they felt Sona was now a sellout, Olaf received another three day suspension.
A/N sorry for the long wait. Please visit my profile for details on future updates