Realistic or Modern Rock Opera! - Warriors of Rock and Roll

[Safety Hammer]

There's a lady who's sure
All that glitters is gold
And she's buying a stairway to heaven​

For as long as there was life, there was song. And as long as song has existed, it has sparked and endured humanity's enduring creativity, the heart of all things. With it, humanity has become a species of unlimited potential, one where the impossible becomes possible and dreams become reality.

But unbeknownst to the humans of today, what they know as "creativity" is a valuable resourse with power not tapped into. One that other species do not posess or can generate. Those species are the GLOOMERS, an evil race of being that lives within a plane known as "The Rhythm", that normal humans cannot see or interact with, but are plagued by daily. Have you ever wanted to stay in bed, and do nothing? Have you ever felt hopeless and floating through a meaningless world where your decisions matter not? That is the work of a Gloomer, sucking the creativity from your body. And as soon as it takes your creativity, it can steal your soul, leaving you simply a husk of a person and simply a shell with which to posess.

But fear not! As we are not defenseless against this invisible menace. Some humans are blessed with the ability to see within The Rhythm as well as interact the beings within. These people who have unlocked the full potential of their creativity, are known as bards. They are man's last line of defense against the Gloomers, using their ability of song to channel their creativity into powerful magic and keep the gloomers, for the most part, at bay

That was, until the leader and queen of the Gloomers, The Blue Meanie, kidnapped The Four Elders of Rock, leaving our world completely unguarded and ready to be attacked. Now it is up to you, heroes! Save the Four Elders and end The Blue Meanie's reign of terror!

 

[Safety Hammer]

Jude Turner
Location: Electric Lady Studios, New York
Imteractions: None

"Oh my god.. like.. Oh my fucking god, dude..." Jude gasped aloud with audible shock and bewilderment in his voice, looking down at the paper in his hands with eyes as large as saucers.

"Whuzzis, kid?" Said a slurred voice from behind Jude, preceeding a hand that reached over his shoulder and grabbed the paper from the young musician's grasp. It was Jude's manager, Pepper, who took his mail, and was now scanning it over. The smell of gin clung to him like glue. Quite obvious that the man had been on a bender.

"First off, asshole, it's mine." The musician said, snagging the paper back from his manager. "Second off, this right here is my ticket to the prime time. This letter is gonna take me to the top!" Jude smiled and read out the words one last time.

Jude Turner,
I've been watching you and a few other up and coming artists, and would like your input on a life long "project" I've been working on. I would be honored if I could meet you over here in London, Abbey Road Studios to be precise. Your flight and housing shall be paid for.

Hope to see you there,
~ Sir Paul McCartney

"So, uhh.. what are you gonna do then? We're in the middle of recording an album, kid. You can't just skip town to go and hang out with a Beatle." Pepper said, running his boney fingers through his unwashed red hair. Jude, spun around and smiled. "Oh yeah? Just try and stop me, dick."

 

[Feyrie]

CORDELIA ROMAGNOLI

mentions: n/a || with: n/a || location: Apartment Giovanni, Italy - Airport, London ​

a few days ago,
Cordelia slumped down on her leather couch, without even removing her Ophidia GG Supreme Canvas Circle Crossbody Gucci Bag. It revealed how worn out the singer was. Despite living in luxury for some quite time, she still can't help but be careful when dealing with her luxury items. The trauma of being poor was firmly imprinted in her mind that she couldn't slack off. Each time she slacked off, it meant some kind of upstart newbie might be practicing out there trying to steal her spot. "Ugh." she groaned, covering her eyes with her arm as she rested for awhile. She had been practicing nonstop however there was still no news concerning the upcoming concert. When she finally felt better, she removed the crossbody bag and sat down properly with one of the couch pillows on her lap.

Her eyes were eventually drawn to letters on the table. As a famous opera singer, fan letters were nothing unusual to the female. There might be a gold egg among them. If she was lucky, then she'd manage to catch the attention of a wealthy admirer then perhaps she could put in a request and get the set of jewelry that she'd been eyeing for awhile. Jewelry was a worthy investment as one could use them as back up funds, hence why she collected plenty of jewelry. She leaned closer to the table, going through them. Some didn't seem anything interesting. There wasn't anything that particularly popped out to her to read it.

She throws the letters back to the table. Cordelia stands up, stretching her body. It's tiring. She can't help but think. She was about to leave when she remembered her bag. There was a letter that she haven't seen on the ground. It had attracted her somehow. She leaned down to pick it up and started reading the letter:

Cordelia Romagnoli,
I've been watching you and a few other up and coming artists, and would like your input on a life long "project" I've been working on. I would be honored if I could meet you over here in London, Abbey Road Studios to be precise. Your flight and housing shall be paid for.

Hope to see you there,
~ Sir Paul McCartney.

The letter was in English. Fortunately, she could speak and read well enough. Her grip tightens around the paper, her brows furrowing as she wonders where she heard the name Paul McCartney. Eventually she had remembered him to be a notable name from another field of music. Their genre was clearly in two different forms. For what reason would such a person try to reach her out? The fact that she was included with other up and coming artists didn't sit with her well either. She was clearly known within her field and she didn't see herself joining his. Of course, unless it was he who wanted to branch out then she would be willing to help such known person such as he.

present,
In the end, despite her reasons and concerns, Cordelia found herself filing for a leave and booking a plane. It was already paid for, after all. There was no reason for her not to hear him out. A famous person is always good to make friends with. She took off her shades and placed it on top her head to get a better sight of London. It wasn't her first time but she only ever came her for work. Although it was still not that different. "Let's see if this is worth my time." She starts walking while pulling along her luggage.

codedbycrucialstar | hidden scroll​

 

[Kabochamp]

The sun hit Mike's closed eyes as he rolled over in bed, causing him to grumble and starting the process of waking up. He looked over at the clock on the hotel wall and groaned, disappointed in himself for sleeping through half of the day already... again. "Never used to be this bad" he mumbled as he forced himself to stand up and walked cautiously to the shower, avoiding the debris of his mess from the last few days as he went.

Once he was washed up and dressed he turned his thoughts to breakfast, forgoing the idea of staying in his dump of a room and heading down to the restaurant to eat. "Mr Hudson!" He heard as he passed reception and jumped, looking over to the receptionist nervously. She was motioning him over so he sighed and walked to the desk. "Phew, I'm glad I caught you" the young woman working at the desk said with a smile, relieving him of some of the tension he felt. "You've got a letter!" She said brightly, holding it out to him.

He just stared at it for a moment, worried "do you know who it's from?" He asked, hoping that he could just throw it away. Having already received three bad letters in the six months since he'd arrived here, he was understandably hesitant to read it. Unfortunately for him, the receptionist simply shrugged and shook her head in response so he took the letter with him, holding it like a rat that could bite at any time.

He got his breakfast and found a table before opening it, deciding that he didn't want to spend the whole time feeling nervous, and read the contents inside. His expression moved through various stages of confusion and finally settled on a small pout as he read. "This has gotta be fake" he told himself as he set it down to start eating, still staring at it.

"Michael Hudson

I've been watching you and a few other up and coming artists, and would like your input on a life long "project" I've been working on. I would be honored if I could meet you over here in London, Abbey Road Studios to be precise. Your flight and housing shall be paid for.

Hope to see you there,
~ Sir Paul McCartney"

He spent most of the day scoffing "I can't just go to London for fun!" Or "I'm not even ready to start working again yet!" But repeatedly going back and reading the letter with a deep frown.

By the time evening came around, he had packed all his belongings and was looking at flight times.

 

[Duwang]

Over the past few weeks, Stacy had gotten a very bizarre string of letters with vague information on them listing things about "flight plans". At first, she thought they were from her work, but a lack of sender, return address and all, told her otherwise. Maybe it was a prank from one of the neighborhood kids? It was a two-hour drive from her house to the airport. She had to go early to account for traffic. This was a special job that Stacy had volunteered for, more out of curiosity than anything else.

Still, as stared at the back of a man wearing a suit jacket over a blue collared shirt and cargo pants, she wondered what any of this was about, and more importantly, why she was standing outside of a plane before it took off. Quickly, after the man finished his speech and the luggage was loaded into the aircraft, Stacy scurried in to give a brief announcement. It was 3 in the morning, and when she read the flight plan, there weren't supposed to be so many people on the plane. In addition, after she spoke, the plane was dead silent. After giving the usual announcement and safety brief, Stacy turned around, and couldn't help but notice a peculiar man who had somehow taken the oxygen mask out of the top compartment.

The plane had begun moving on the tarmac, but Stacy needed to get the man to take his mask off. "Excuse me sir," she tapped him on the shoulder, "why are you wearing that mask?" He stared up to her and mumbled something. Meekly, she reached over to attempt to pull the mask off, only for the man to turn away. "If I pulled that off... Would you die?" She asked. Then finally, he replied in a strangely calm tone. "It would be extremely painful."

Stacy sighed. "Aw. You're a big guy." He turned back, eyes wide open. Stacy fell back as the plane took off, then guided herself back to the front. "What a weirdo." She thought.

The rest of the flight seemed normal. After bringing concessions to the passengers, Stacy returned to break, leaning back against the trolly only to find that her hand had landed on another note, this one titled the "master plan". She rolled her eyes but opened the note still, to find only two words: "No survivors." That was when the plane shook. It looked like someone sabotaged the wing. The emergency lights went on and the oxygen masks went down but the plane broke in half mid flight, the front half ready to nose dive right into the ocean. Stacy grabbed a parachute, and fifty feet above the water, jumped off, releasing the parachute- a new experience for her.

As she descended, a rock came hurling her way, which she caught instinctively after a loud "EEK!" Attached to it was yet another letter. "Abbey Road." It read. Coincidentally, when the plane fell, it was right off the coast of England. And like so, Stacy swam toward the coast, rescued halfway by the coast guard.

 

[Zerohex]

Fate works in mysterious ways. The first letter arrived rather early to the Sera household compared to others but far too late when it came to the man himself, who was at that point embarking on a plane to the United States to tour with GONGSHOW 3000 as filler acts in a multi-state metal festival. Terumi's parents took a quick look at the piece of paper claiming to be from "Sir Paul McCartney" and into the trash it went. Surely others followed and similarly failed at trying to track a musician on tour, given the lack of a proper mailing address and the fact that the band was only around each city for about a lone busy day or two.

It wasn't until the tour was over and the group settled down to do a bit of tourism in Boston that the message finally found its way to Sera's hotel room. He took a quick look at the piece of paper claiming to be from "Sir Paul McCartney" and into the trash it went. Totally sounded super fake, and besides he just didn't play that kinda rock and The Beatles weren't really his thing anyway so he didn't feel particularly enthussed. He kinda cared more about the guided tour of Berklee. So he carried on with his days, until another mysterious letter found its way to his hands. He was about to throw it away too when he took a closer look:

Terumi Sera,
I've been watching you and a few other up and coming artists, and would like your input on a life long "project" I've been working on. I would be honored if I could meet you over here in London, Abbey Road Studios to be precise. Your flight and housing shall be paid for.

Hope to see you there,
~ Sir Paul McCartney Gilbert

Oh. Oooooh man. THE Paul Gilbert! Heavy metal guitarist of Racer X and Mr. Big fame! Famous mostly in Japan really but he was japanese so he knew about him! He wondered what exactly Paul Gilbert from Illinois and most succesful in Asia had to do with Abbey Road in Britain, but maybe it was something to do with the historic UK metal scene. This could be his big break! And getting in tight with Paul could get him work in Japan and then he wouldn't have to fly halfway across the world to play in big shows! GONGSHOW didn't seem too interested but also didn't mind him going either so all that was left was getting there.

Unfortunately, despite the letter's contents the Boston Logan International Airport did not, in fact, have any kind of tickets reserved for one Terumi Sera or Sera Terumi to London. But the bassist would not be dissuaded, and so he phoned the only person he could for assistance. His dad:

"Hey...hey dad it's me."
[...]
"No I'm doing okay, I don't need money. Really, the tour went really well you can find videos on..."
[...]
"Yes I know you don't like what we play but it turned out pretty good and..."
[...]
"Okay fine I do need something. Not money though I swear I'm doing good, I might have my big break right in front of me."
[...]
"I'm in Boston right now buuuuuuuut I kinda need to get to London. Soon as possible."
[...]
"Yes I do really have some money it was a multi-state tour."
[...]
"I could but then I wouldn't have any money."
[...]
"I might need it in London, right? Besides you have a ton of frequent flyer miles can't you get me a cheap seat or something?"
[...]
"Get this: Paul. Gilbert."
[...]
"He's...he's pretty big, he's gone Gold at home and everything."
[...]
"Yeah he's big in Japan, if I score this I could get gigs at home, would get to stay around more."
[...]
"Alright...alright I'll call again tomorrow. Thanks pop, I'll buy you a cool car when I make it big."
[...]
"Hey ma, turns out I'm not coming home yet."
[...]
"A letter? For what now?...man that's so weird. Who even sends letters now?"
​

 

[Spiderverse]

There’s an old saying of some kind, something about being at the right place at the right time, something that John Lennon had once said. The young woman looked to her right as she had been ironing clothes for her younger siblings, gazing at the closed white door to her parents' room, the middle aged couple still resting from their late night shifts at work even though it was already 7 AM. They deserve an extra 30 minutes at least… Not wanting to wake the two, Jocelyn had lifted up the slightly scratched up and clearly used Shark iron and placed it on the end of the ironing board to air out. Normally she’d just yell for her younger siblings to wake and get ready for school but she didn’t want to wake her parents. So as lightly as she could she tiptoed across the creaky boards of their apartment building, going over to the other side of the small home past the living room and miniature kitchen to her siblings’ rooms. She knocked three times on both doors, nothing. I really don’t wanna barge in but oh well..


Reaching down to both door handles she had opened both up simultaneously, poking her head in first to the boys’ room. Darius was lying with his back against the wall on his Twin XL bunk bed, toothbrush lightly hanging in his mouth as his eyes were glued to his silent TV screen. She could hear his hands pressing down hard on the buttons of his controller, playing some fighting game. Of course he’d be doing this rather than getting ready for school. The older sister walked over and stood in front of the TV screen with her hand on her hips and her other hand’s thumb pointing toward the door. With a deep sigh the boy paused the game and walked out; and the sound of the TV turning off made a figure masked underneath a blanket on the top bunk shoot up. This figure of course being the younger of the two boys Damien. Seeing Jocelyn staring up at him immediately made him realize what had been going on and without a second wasted he slid down his ladder and rushed out the door. Now for the little drama queen and the volleyball star…


Exiting her little brothers’ room and immediately entering the door on her right, she saw the two girls lying asleep on their beds, Althea wearing an eye mask on her face and delicately covered in her blankets while CJ had thrown off her blankets in her sleep, her headphones still blasting rock music as she lightly snoozed with her arms and legs strewn across the bed. Sighing, Jocelyn walked over to CJ first, turning off her headphones before removing them gently from her ears. Placing her right hand on the ten year old’s stomach, she shook her hand rapidly, making the girl rise up with wide, startled eyes at her sister. Leaning back to look at Althea and realizing she was still asleep, her eyes focused on Jocelyn with a light but sinister grin on her face. Rolling her eyes, Jocelyn moved out of the way so CJ could get out of bed and exited the room, hearing a shrill screech as she closed the door. “Well… they’re up.” As she was making her way back to the ironing board to finish off her siblings clothes, she had seen a letter lodged in the cracks of their front door. Walking through the small hallway that connected their apartment to the building’s 5th floor hallway. Reaching out and yanking the letter out of the door, she looked to read who it was for, realizing it was for her. Her eyes widened, she wasn’t expecting any mail, and it was in a normal unneat letter too, not even one of those fancy ones businesses use so it was clearly not some company trying to give her coupons on something. Looking at the time on her phone, her eyes widened. Oh crap I gotta iron their clothes quick! Rushing back over to the ironing board and quickly finishing all of the outfits she had to iron, she made bowls of cereal for all four of her siblings before sitting down at the couch in her living room to read the letter.

𝓙𝓸𝓬𝓮𝓵𝔂𝓷 𝓨𝓪𝓮𝓰𝓮𝓻,
𝓘'𝓿𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝔀𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪 𝓯𝓮𝔀 𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓾𝓹 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓼, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓲𝓷𝓹𝓾𝓽 𝓸𝓷 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 "𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓳𝓮𝓬𝓽" 𝓘'𝓿𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓷. 𝓘 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓫𝓮 𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓯 𝓘 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓶𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓛𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓸𝓷, 𝓐𝓫𝓫𝓮𝔂 𝓡𝓸𝓪𝓭 𝓢𝓽𝓾𝓭𝓲𝓸𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓼𝓮. 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓭 𝓯𝓸𝓻.

𝓗𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓮𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮,
~ 𝓟𝓪𝓾𝓵 𝓚𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓻

Her eyes widened as she read the name of the person who sent it to her, Paul motherfucking KALKBRENNER. Without wasting a second the girl rushed over to her parents' room. “Mom. Dad. Call off my two jobs for me and tell them I’m taking a vacation. Tell them a week. If it ends up being longer than that… tell ‘em I quit.” She rushed to her room to pack her things. No way this is happening… it must be a DREAM! She smacked her cheeks and shook her head, clearly awake. “IT’S NOT A DREAM!!!” Less than five hours later she had made her flight arrangements and booked her hotel room. As Jocelyn looked out the window of her plane departing from JFK, she couldn’t help but smile. "There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be…" ~ John Lennon.