"Hihi everyone," Space Mage chirped, as she flounced up to the front.
Plucking the microphone off the stand, she challenged the room: "I hope everyone's having fun?"
A wave of hearty cheers rolled back - along with one good-natured 'NO' from the rear of the crowd. The dissident was quickly silenced by the
oppressive bourgeoise forces of thrown seat cushions, prompting a fresh round of laughter.
Space beamed, nodding vigorously. This threatened to dislodge the cowboy hat sitting on her head, it being a couple sizes too big for her - but her long
pointy ears caught the brim, keeping it in place. If barely.
In the front row, Marcus stifled a chuckle, the rarely seen sight of his uncovered red hair nearly matching the faint flush on his face.
"Excellent! That's great and totally awesome that everyone's having a good time and enjoying the music," Space continued, "because
now we've got some very special visitors from out of town up next! Now most of you know them from our work with Vanguard and stuff but what you probably
don't know is they've totally been looking at electronic resources while studying our music and stuff and they've chosen to reinterpret a
contemporary work of great cultural importance in their own artistic style so it's gonna be totally awesome and unique and different but also close to home
at the very same time so everyone please enjoy!"
There was a brief pause, as the more pleasantly inebriated members of the revellers slowly caught up with what was said.
Meanwhile, back at the sound booth, Katy Kaboom clicked the dial on an old analog stopwatch, and squinted at the recorded time. She glanced over at Mag
Flashlight. Mag returned her incredulous look with a simple sage statement: 'lung capacity'.
"Right," Space announced, "here we go!"
The distinctive whine of a very familiar teleportation effect filled the hall - almost instinctively setting nerves on edge.
But the effect was mitigated somewhat by the fact one of the new arrivals was quite visibly carrying a microphone. That one joined Space by the side of the
makeshift stage, as the others formed a neatly regimented line, their brightly-coloured Traditionalist armor glittering under the spotlights.
The Rikti with the microphone made a dramatic gesture, then intoned:
Ooh: Ahh: Ooh: Ahh : Ahh
Dance: with us
Hands: initiate clap
Behaviour: like us
Left: Towards: Move
Listen: Learn
Chance: do not miss
We: here with
Caramell: Dansen!
Ooh: Ooh: Oowah: Oowah
Ooh: Ooh: Oowah: Oowah
Ooh: Ooh: Oowah: Oowah
Ooh: Ooh: Oowah: Oowah
...
As the room of heroes stared at the bouncing diplomatic party in disbelief, an invisible penguin waddled over to Space and gave her a beady eye.
In response, Space whispered back: "Look, it's not my fault, it was either that or Rikti Astley..."
-- Acyl
Plucking the microphone off the stand, she challenged the room: "I hope everyone's having fun?"
A wave of hearty cheers rolled back - along with one good-natured 'NO' from the rear of the crowd. The dissident was quickly silenced by the
oppressive bourgeoise forces of thrown seat cushions, prompting a fresh round of laughter.
Space beamed, nodding vigorously. This threatened to dislodge the cowboy hat sitting on her head, it being a couple sizes too big for her - but her long
pointy ears caught the brim, keeping it in place. If barely.
In the front row, Marcus stifled a chuckle, the rarely seen sight of his uncovered red hair nearly matching the faint flush on his face.
"Excellent! That's great and totally awesome that everyone's having a good time and enjoying the music," Space continued, "because
now we've got some very special visitors from out of town up next! Now most of you know them from our work with Vanguard and stuff but what you probably
don't know is they've totally been looking at electronic resources while studying our music and stuff and they've chosen to reinterpret a
contemporary work of great cultural importance in their own artistic style so it's gonna be totally awesome and unique and different but also close to home
at the very same time so everyone please enjoy!"
There was a brief pause, as the more pleasantly inebriated members of the revellers slowly caught up with what was said.
Meanwhile, back at the sound booth, Katy Kaboom clicked the dial on an old analog stopwatch, and squinted at the recorded time. She glanced over at Mag
Flashlight. Mag returned her incredulous look with a simple sage statement: 'lung capacity'.
"Right," Space announced, "here we go!"
The distinctive whine of a very familiar teleportation effect filled the hall - almost instinctively setting nerves on edge.
But the effect was mitigated somewhat by the fact one of the new arrivals was quite visibly carrying a microphone. That one joined Space by the side of the
makeshift stage, as the others formed a neatly regimented line, their brightly-coloured Traditionalist armor glittering under the spotlights.
The Rikti with the microphone made a dramatic gesture, then intoned:
Ooh: Ahh: Ooh: Ahh : Ahh
Dance: with us
Hands: initiate clap
Behaviour: like us
Left: Towards: Move
Listen: Learn
Chance: do not miss
We: here with
Caramell: Dansen!
Ooh: Ooh: Oowah: Oowah
Ooh: Ooh: Oowah: Oowah
Ooh: Ooh: Oowah: Oowah
Ooh: Ooh: Oowah: Oowah
...
As the room of heroes stared at the bouncing diplomatic party in disbelief, an invisible penguin waddled over to Space and gave her a beady eye.
In response, Space whispered back: "Look, it's not my fault, it was either that or Rikti Astley..."
-- Acyl