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<blockquote data-quote="arwink" data-source="post: 1122733" data-attributes="member: 2292">Part Five: Young Lords and Angry WomenAs the dust of the Gibbon van fills the screen, it suddenly lurches and spins in the manner of an old Batman show (complete with the horn section playing the obligatory nah-Nah-nah-nah-Nah].&nbsp; The word GIBBON appears and disappears in the midst of the screen, and when it spins into the difference you can see the van pulling up in front of the palatial Khorjar Castle.&nbsp; Christian Khorjar is on the steps, a young aryan with a leather jacket and retro-bellbottoms.&nbsp; The camera pulls in for a close-up, and there's the faintest tinge of sorrow in his features.&nbsp; When the camera pulls back, the van is parked three steps down and the Gibbon's pour out.&nbsp; Christian offers everyone the faintest hint of a smile.&quot;You came,&quot; he says, but he sounds slightly nervous about the proposition.&quot;Sure man,&quot; Kid grins, taking his place at the front of the assembled Gibbon's.&nbsp; &quot;The Gibbon's never give up on a gig.&quot;&quot;Really?&nbsp; You mean you're not leaving?&nbsp; Great!&quot; Christian actually breaks out in a smile.&nbsp; &quot;I'm Christian, I run the festival.&nbsp; Glad you've decided to stick around.&quot;&quot;Why wouldn't we?&quot; Alex wonders blissfully, his glazed eyes staring up at the eleven stories of stonework that make up the castle.&quot;No reason, no reason,&quot; Christian says quickly, perhaps too quickly.&nbsp; &quot;There's just been a few people to pull out of the Music Competition.&quot;&quot;Really?&nbsp; How many people we competing with?&quot; Mary Jane demands.&quot;At the moment, just you,&quot; Alexander says.&nbsp; &quot;Although another band is due tomorrow morning.&quot;&quot;Who??&quot;&quot;Howls at the moon, from memory.&quot;&quot;Right.&quot;There's a stony silence as everyone considers this for a few moments.&nbsp; Mary Jane actually scowls deeper as she hears the name of her former band.&quot;Did I say something wrong?&quot; Christian asks.&quot;Of course not,&quot; Billy Ray drawls.&nbsp; &quot;But d'ya think you could show us to our room.&quot;&quot;Of course, where are my manners&quot; Alexander says.&nbsp; &quot;I'll just call Wither's for your bags.&nbsp; WITHERS!&quot;The balding, elderly gentlemen from the gate suddenly lopes onscreen.&nbsp; His tattered suit is badly creased, the long tails dragging in the dirt.&nbsp; When the camera zooms in for a close-up, you can see the faintest tinge of a yellow wash in his skin-tone and hair.&quot;You hollered, my lord?&quot;&quot;Could you take the gibbon's bags?&nbsp; They'll be staying in the upstairs guest room.&quot;&quot;The one we gave to those Overdrive people, Milord?&quot;Alexander looks panicked at the question, but none of the Gibbon's seems to register.&nbsp; They're all staring out over the castle's expansive courtyard.&quot;Why not?&quot; Alexander says.&nbsp; &quot;It's not like this could get any worse.&quot;He takes a step and catches the Gibbon's attention.&quot;This way folks,&quot; Christian calls.&nbsp; &quot;Best room in the house, to show how thankful we are that you're staying for the festival.&quot;Everyone disappears into the house, Wither's following along behind with a mound of luggage and drum-kits in his aging arms.</blockquote>

[QUOTE="arwink, post: 1122733, member: 2292"] [b]Part Five: Young Lords and Angry Women[/b] As the dust of the Gibbon van fills the screen, it suddenly lurches and spins in the manner of an old Batman show (complete with the horn section playing the obligatory nah-Nah-nah-nah-Nah]. The word [b]GIBBON[/b] appears and disappears in the midst of the screen, and when it spins into the difference you can see the van pulling up in front of the palatial Khorjar Castle. Christian Khorjar is on the steps, a young aryan with a leather jacket and retro-bellbottoms. The camera pulls in for a close-up, and there's the faintest tinge of sorrow in his features. When the camera pulls back, the van is parked three steps down and the Gibbon's pour out. Christian offers everyone the faintest hint of a smile. "You came," he says, but he sounds slightly nervous about the proposition. "Sure man," Kid grins, taking his place at the front of the assembled Gibbon's. "The Gibbon's never give up on a gig." "Really? You mean you're not leaving? Great!" Christian actually breaks out in a smile. "I'm Christian, I run the festival. Glad you've decided to stick around." "Why wouldn't we?" Alex wonders blissfully, his glazed eyes staring up at the eleven stories of stonework that make up the castle. "No reason, no reason," Christian says quickly, perhaps too quickly. "There's just been a few people to pull out of the Music Competition." "Really? How many people we competing with?" Mary Jane demands. "At the moment, just you," Alexander says. "Although another band is due tomorrow morning." "Who??" "Howls at the moon, from memory." "Right." There's a stony silence as everyone considers this for a few moments. Mary Jane actually scowls deeper as she hears the name of her former band. "Did I say something wrong?" Christian asks. "Of course not," Billy Ray drawls. "But d'ya think you could show us to our room." "Of course, where are my manners" Alexander says. "I'll just call Wither's for your bags. WITHERS!" The balding, elderly gentlemen from the gate suddenly lopes onscreen. His tattered suit is badly creased, the long tails dragging in the dirt. When the camera zooms in for a close-up, you can see the faintest tinge of a yellow wash in his skin-tone and hair. "You hollered, my lord?" "Could you take the gibbon's bags? They'll be staying in the upstairs guest room." "The one we gave to those Overdrive people, Milord?" Alexander looks panicked at the question, but none of the Gibbon's seems to register. They're all staring out over the castle's expansive courtyard. "Why not?" Alexander says. "It's not like this could get any worse." He takes a step and catches the Gibbon's attention. "This way folks," Christian calls. "Best room in the house, to show how thankful we are that you're staying for the festival." Everyone disappears into the house, Wither's following along behind with a mound of luggage and drum-kits in his aging arms. [/QUOTE]

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