A/N: This chapter contains shades of a plot.
At this point, I'd like to remind everyone that the satellite characters are all based on people I knew in marching band and that Marie is the self-insert who got away. So the thing going on between Marie and Ashlyn? Really happened and has been slightly exaggerated for the story.
Disclaimer: I do not own How to Train Your Dragon. I do own an assortment of OCs, a few of whom are trying to make me regret creating them.
How to Train Your Marching Band
Chapter Seven: It Only Sounds Dirty
"Senior meeting upstairs! Seniors, grab your food and head upstairs! Meeting time! Meeting time!" Steiny the drum major shouted, her voice blaring through the commons like a particularly piercing foghorn. "Senior meeting only! In the upstairs suite! Time for a senior me-e-eting!"
"A little louder, Steiny. Norway wasn't heard you yet." Marie muttered.
"Y'know, she could probably find work as a drill sergeant. The gods know she's got the voice for it." Hiccup said, trying to get his fellow senior to crack something like a smile.
Marie just grunted in an ill-tempered kind of way, her shoulders slouching even further until she was practically capable of giving Tuffnut's routine bad posture a run for its money. Another long morning of drill practice and this time, Marie had taken it upon herself to correct Ashlyn every time the rookie made a mistake. This had been done in an effort to live up to the "don't traumatize the rookies this time" edict Hiccup had laid down yesterday morning. It had been a very valiant effort, but by the end of the morning, Hiccup had decided that Marie deserved commendation just for not losing her temper.
Ashlyn had some sort of chip on her shoulder where the second-chair clarinet was concerned. What this problem was, Hiccup had absolutely no idea and he was starting to think that whatever the problem was, it was all in Ashlyn's head. If Marie had done anything, then it had not been done on purpose and the whole thing had been insignificant in the eighteen-year old's mind.
But whatever had happened, Ashlyn had chosen to deal with it by not listening to a single word that came out of Marie's mouth.
This had been very poorly received, as Marie also had tendencies towards perfectionism that would have made an extreme Type-A personality weep with pride. Hiccup blamed her military parents for that, but he was on her side in this matter. Ashlyn wasn't out running twenty-three laps around tower field today just because he felt like being an ass.
"Don't do it again. Correcting Ashlyn, I mean." Hiccup instructed. "It just pisses you off. I don't want you losing your temper next time."
"And spend another morning torturing myself like that? Don't be stupid." Marie frowned at him and made a disgusted noise. "I think I'll just get back to traumatizing the rookies. That actually seems to do them good."
"D'ya think it'll help with Ashlyn?"
"No, but it'll help me feel better when dealing with her."
Hiccup sighed lightly. "Look, normally I wouldn't stand in the way of a system that works - for the most part - and I am really proud that you're trying, but I think I'll give diplomacy a spin first. If things haven't - cleaned up by tomorrow, I'll talk to Gobber, okay Marie?" he offered.
"Good luck."
"Hey, no worries. Gobber likes me."
"Go Hakuna Matata yourself."
It was just surprising enough for Hiccup to stutter-step, allowing Marie enough of an opening to veer away from him, evidently needing some space. After this morning, he was willing to give it to her.
"Wow, that sounded dirty." Tuffnut commented, slouching up behind Hiccup. "What's got her in a mood? Shark week already?"
He barely dodged Ruffnut's fist. It was like instinct, Hiccup thought, since Ruffnut's fist came straight for the back of her brother's head and Tuffnut whirled out of the way, the bared knuckles missing him by a scant inch. He straightened up with an amused snicker.
"Dude, what have I said about bringing that up?" Ruffnut demanded.
"You never say anything! You just aim for the crotch!"
"That 'cause it's gross and wrong hearing about guys talk about it!"
"If you don't want me talking about it, don't make such a big deal out of it!"
Ruffnut's only retaliation was to flip her brother the bird and then went ahead to do her duty as best friend and see if she could break Marie out of the rookie-induced funk. Hiccup silently wished her luck.
"So what's going on?" Tuffnut pressed. "Marie doesn't get all depressed and junk during band camp. She's usually all, y'know, creepy."
"It's nothing, we're just having trouble the last-chair rookie." Hiccup summed up, since Tuffnut really wouldn't care about the details.
The trumpeter had to poke around his brains for the right memories. "Uh, you mean the who looks like a concussed cow?" he said, uncertain because he didn't pay much active attention to the other sections' rookies.
"She doesn't look like a-" Hiccup broke off when his brain compared images. "Okay, maybe she does. A little bit."
"Yeah, but seriously. What's the problem?"
Hiccup blinked and stared for a second until his brain had worked it out.
Tuffnut's concern was obvious, but only if you knew him well enough to read his facial expressions. He really only had three distinct expressions (angry, happy, or indifferent) and they all managed to involve some manner of sneer. It still managed to throw Hiccup a little when he found concern written between the lines of the trumpeter's indifferent expression. He always had to remind himself that Marie lived on the Touchstone side of Berk River Gorge and had gone to elementary school with the twins (and Fishlegs). Ruffnut and Tuffnut had known her for six years longer than Hiccup. More accurately, they had been friends with Marie for six years longer than Hiccup.
"That's the thing. I really don't know what's going on." the clarinet section leader replied. "As far as I can tell, Ashlyn hates Marie, but Marie has no idea why."
Tuffnut frowned. "Well that's not cool. Why would anyone wanna hate Marie? She's awesome. She can practically make things explode by looking at them."
"Ashlyn obviously found something to hate."
"Still not cool, hatin' on my best friend like that. Do you know where she lives?"
Images of toilet-papered trees, egged houses and saran-wrapped cars flashed through Hiccup's mind. Tuffnut's idea of revenge was the simple classics that typically created a huge mess. Ruffnut's approach to revenge was more- Hiccup hesitated to use the term 'sophisticated', but she did put some more careful planning into her ideas and liked to let her victims sweat for a couple of days beforehand.
But knowing well what the twins could accomplish when they put their minds to it and having been on the receiving end more than once, Hiccup replied that he didn't know where Ashlyn lived (it was true, he really didn't). Tuffnut looked disappointed, but only for a second and then his brow furrowed in thought. Not at all interested in what new ideas were going through the trumpeter's depraved little mind, Hiccup broke away as soon as he could, ducking through the doorway to the left, back to the woodwind instrument lockers. Setting his cooler down, he took his lunch out of it and made his way upstairs for the senior meeting.
The seniors gathered in the upstairs suite. There were seventeen of them and it still the original seventeen rookies who had begun in eighth grade. Hiccup settled onto the third riser and the group settled in around him. It appeared that Ruffnut had had some success with her duties as best friend; the tired cast had lifted from Marie and her eyes were back to sparkling with that insane 'I wonder how creative I can get with ripping your head off' look that she tended to wear when she was plotting. It never made Hiccup comfortable to see that look, but at least she was feeling much better. She never really let anything hang on her for long.
Steiny clapped her hands over the sound of rustling plastic and lunchbox zippers, getting everyone's attention.
"Okay, seniors! This is about the Friday sleepover." she announced. "We haven't got a lot of time to get planning done, so let's try and get a few ideas down before Friday, alright?"
The Friday night sleepover was one of the few immoveable traditions of the Marching Vikings band camp. It became misnomer when you were a senior, because the only people who didn't sleep during the sleepover were the seniors.
While the rookies through the juniors tried to get comfortable enough to sleep on the thinly carpeted floor of the band suite, the seniors (always coming off a fairly rigorous seven hours of practice - not to mention the entire preceding week - and usually strung out on sugar and caffeine by midnight) pulled an all-nighter to make breakfast for the rest of the band and put together some skits for the morning entertainment.
How "entertaining" this was often depended on how fast your brain was working at seven in the morning. Hiccup figured that the senior skit show was comprised of ideas that were positively hilarious at three in the morning, but the seniors were hardly engaged in what they were doing four hours later and something got lost in translation (as it were).
And now, it was his class's turn.
"Oh, I've got an idea." Astrid announced brightly, only to have everyone cut her off short with a resounding "NO!" She recoiled a little from the sheer noise and looked around at everyone in general confusion.
"Astrid, no offense, but all your ideas have sucked balls." Snotlout said and proceeded to cower away from the fire that flashed in her eyes. "I said no offense." he added hurriedly.
"My ideas have not sucked." Astrid said defensively.
"Sure they have." Tuffnut said brightly. "Like that time we found out dragon eggs explode when they hatch. Everything caught fire."
"It was awesome." Ruffnut agreed.
"Oh-kay, let's not pick on Astrid, c'mon." Steiny said, waving a hand. Her grin was good-natured. "Anyone else got an idea?"
Through the din of ideas and half-formed thoughts being offered up for potential skits, Astrid turned to Hiccup and asked: "My ideas haven't sucked, have they?"
"Uh... Would you like the honest answer or the lie?" Hiccup wondered, leaning away from the inevitable fist. It was best to just let Astrid know right away that she wasn't going to get an answer she wanted to hear.
While Astrid contemplated whether or not it would be worth getting defensive over this, no one heard Tuffnut turn to his twin and ask: "Wait, when did that happen?"
The seniors didn't spend too long making plans. The baritone section leader Baker, who was one of those naturally epic people who did awesome things without putting in any real effort to be awesome, offered to dance or something and his suggestion was met with a more horrified, more drawn-out "NOO!" By that time, everyone had consumed their lunch and the whole brainstorming session had pretty much fallen apart. Diligent though they were in other aspects, this particular group of seniors was much better at flying by the seat of their pants.
In twos and threes, the seniors filtered off back downstairs until it was just the usual group of seven left.
"Ooh, I wish Baker hadn't offered to dance. Now I can't get the imagery out of my head." Fishlegs moaned, looking a touch green around the gills.
"You said it." Marie agreed. "What is it about Baker that makes his dancing scary and disturbing and vomit-inducing?"
"The fact he dances very well to Like a Virgin?" Astrid suggested, prompting a collective moan out of the group.
"Astrid please, we just ate." Hiccup requested, hoping the conversation would turn away from things that wouldn't make him feel sick to his stomach.
"Man, band is so dirty sometimes." Snotlout commented, unknowingly dashing his cousin's hopes of a not-stomach-turning lunch conversation. "I mean, we get told to finger our parts."
"Trumpets use three fingers." Tuffnut said.
"Colorguard can handle any-sized pole." was Ruffnut's contribution.
"Percussion bangs harder!"
"Long, loud and lubricated!"
"And now we are officially out of context." Hiccup said, starting to see no way of aborting the conversation and trying to ignore the way both Astrid and Marie were giggling uncontrollably. "Gods, why can't we ever have normal conversations?..."
"'Cause normal's boring." Tuffnut said, throwing his hands behind his head. "It's like- sleeping. Nothing happens."
"I'd hate to be normal." Ruffnut decided. "Normal people don't have any fun."
"Yeah, we're not normal people. We're band people. We think about things that go way out of context." Marie said, nodding sagely. "Because when you really think about, band really is just chock-full of innuendo; I mean, the stuff I said yesterday about Snotlout having the snare around his crotch-"
"I'm not interested in your thought process!" Hiccup interjected very quickly. The last thing he wanted to hear this soon after lunch was his cousin's name and masturbation being linked together in the same sentence.
"Do your parents approve of you splashing around in the gutter?" Fishlegs inquired curiously.
"My parents aren't around to disapprove and my aunt moved out last May. I am the only legal adult in my house." Marie reminded them. She sounded a bit too happy about that (though anyone would be pleased with an ongoing lack of parental supervision).
"And what about your brother having a good role model?" Fishlegs pressed, crossing his arms. "Isn't he still young enough to be impressionable? Don't you think it might be bad for his development if you positively reinforce this behavior?"
Marie leaned forward, closing the gap between them by a couple of inches. Her eyes were narrowed and her face was molded into an expression of thoughtfulness. For a moment, it seemed like she might actually engaged in a semi-academic conversation on psychology. Then, with the utmost seriousness, she said:
"You can't lick your wenus."
It sounded dirty enough to get the twins sniggering again. Astrid muffled a snort into her hand.
"Most people can't, after all. It's just in a very awkward location that I think you need to be double-jointed in the tongue to reach." Marie went on. She was definitely aware that she had changed the subject on a dime, but it didn't stop her from being very serious about what she was talking about.
"I can totally lick my wenus!" Snotlout boasted proudly.
"Then prove it." Marie said to him, gesturing vaguely. "Do it now. Right in front of everybody. Go on, I dare you."
Hiccup marveled that he could actually see his cousin's bluster ebb and the way Astrid was all but strangling herself against her laughter was probably not helping the percussionist's confidence. Snotlout made a few cautious glances towards his lower body, but otherwise made no move to lick anything, prompting Marie to frown.
"Do you even know where your wenus is?"
"Of course I do!" Snotlout quickly recovered his bluster. "I'm just not gonna lick it because you'd all be blinded by how incredible it is!"
"Incredibly small?" Ruffnut sneered. She and Tuffnut exchanged not-really-discreet high-fives.
"Snotlout, I thought I made this clear earlier. I really, really don't want to hear about your penis. And neither does anyone else." Hiccup reiterated. "Trust me, it's nothing special." he added to the others.
Marie's eyes lit up with that Other kind of light that took "sadistic" to whole new definitions. "Oh Hiccup, do tell. Tell all." she requested.
"Yeah, I dunno how much there is to tell. But he wasn't completely toilet-trained until he was like, four and half. Basically, we were both almost in kindergarten and he had this habit of throwing off his diapers and going in the backyard. Kept telling his parents that dragons didn't use a toilet, so why should he?" Hiccup informed everyone while Snotlout puffed with anger and embarrassment. Hiccup just smiled beatifically at his cousin. "I think my dad got after you when you left that floater in the kiddie pool and threatened to feed you to a dragon."
The twins had lost any semblance of coherent speech and were bowled over, still trying to laugh between gasping breaths. Fishlegs seemed to be trying very hard to be polite and not laugh, but he was having some odd facial spasms. Red in the face, Astrid was clutching her stomach and sides like she was trying to keep herself together. Marie was practically glowing with this lovely blackmail material while Hiccup kept one eye on his cousin. Snotlout was clenching his fists menacingly, as usual, angered that those memories he had been trying very hard to repress for most of his life had been brought up. Again. He really didn't deserve this. Honestly, those mud puddles hadn't been that muddy.
But Hiccup always got revenge in his own way and he tossed in one last zinger.
"The tree he kept going on died."
"JACOB GERARD HADDOCK!"
Hiccup went from a sitting position to on his feet in the blink of an eye and was vaulting over Fishlegs to escape the wrath of his cousin, forcing his sore muscles into action. Snotlout let out a bellow like a bull in heat and charged.
The clarinet section leader acknowledged that he might have crossed a line, but it was so satisfying to return a little bit of the karma. In his defense, Snotlout was his cousin and he was only morally obligated to be friendly with his cousin. He was allowed to make fun of Snotlout, but he also had to suffer the consequences if he wasn't fast enough. Because Snotlout was also only morally obligated to be friendly with his cousin and he was allowed to beat Hiccup up. When it came to things like fighting, Snotlout was quick on the draw, even if his strategy was mostly just "SNOTLOUT SMASH!"
Provided, that was, if he could catch Hiccup.
However, this wasn't one of those times where Hiccup out-ran his cousin. Snotlout caught him before he was out the door and punched him in the face.
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