#1
WALL OF TEXT

Thought the pit might like this:

THE SPIRIT OF ROCK

Hi.

Is this the... yeah, is this for the superhero team tryouts? Sorry, yeah, I guess I should have guessed from your outfits.

My name? Er... I'd rather not say, there are several international law agencies currently looking for me.

My superpower? Okay, this is going to sound really weird, I'm going to sound like a complete loony tune and I know you probably get a lot of timewasters and homeless people that make similarly ridiculous claims.

I have the power of Rock.

About ten years ago, when there was that weird meteor shower and people started getting superpowers I was one of those affected. My brother was always playing his classic rock and his hard rock on the stereo system in his bedroom. He even saved up and bought an electric guitar, and kept trying to learn how to play it, but he was always pretty crap.

Anyway, it was the night after the meteor storm. I was 14 years old, and I was lying on my bed reading when my brother started playing his music. And before this I could always shut the sound out and concentrate on my book, but not this time. It was like... someone was talking to me. I think he was listening to Jeff Beck, Hi Ho Silver Lining, and you know that guitar solo near the end that goes 'widdly widdly widdly widdly wa-wow'? It was like all the notes were just merging into a voice. Deep, and booming. The kind of voice you imagine God having.

I tried to shut it out, but it was impossible. From then on, every song he played, the guitar notes would form that voice. Yes, I realise it sounds insane. No, they didn't command me to kill women, I'd ask you to take this seriously.

It took a few weeks before I gave in. My brother wasn't going through one of his phases of self-improvement at the time so his guitar was propped up against the wardrobe, gathering dust. Somehow, I could sense how the guitar was feeling. It felt neglected and miserable. I wanted to comfort it.

...and the next thing I knew, I was playing. I'd never even touched a guitar but there I was. My fingers were dancing over the strings like charmed snakes. My other hand was going up and down the neck like... Pistons? Yes, like that.

And the sound coming out of that instrument... it seemed to transcend the boundaries of notes and pitch and rhythm. It was something pure, something... glorious. It was like a bottle of golden champagne pouring over the auditory centre of the brain.

Lay off the what? What's a 'simile'? Oh. Sorry.

Once I came out of the trance I was... dazed, I guess. And then this horrible smell reached my nostrils, and I recoiled.

Every CD, every LP, every cassette... all of them had melted in their cases. His MP3 player was just a puddle on the desktop. I knew then that the power was dangerous.

A couple of years passed, and it grew inside me. One time I caught myself humming along to Purple Rain as it played on the PA system in a department store, and when I got home, all my teeth had been perfectly whitened. My mum persisted in buying me trousers two sizes too big, but they shrank and became incredibly tight within hours of me putting them on. There was a music festival three streets away and I woke up the following morning to find that my hair had grown down to my shoulders.

I should have known that it was just waiting for its chance.

Eight years ago. I was 16. I was appearing in the school play. The play was just some Shakespeare crap so my mind wandered off, and I found myself staring at the audience below us. Something trembled in the pit of my stomach, and it quickly became a rumbling. My fingers were twitching, playing at strings that weren't there. My heart was pounding a bass rhythm in my ears.

Somehow I found myself walking up to centre stage. I could feel the power, trailing out of me invisibly and linking up with everything in the room. That's when I knew... that's when I knew that the power, the rock, it wasn't in me; it was in everything. I was just the conduit. I stood there and I felt the music in everything - the people, the chairs, the nails in the floorboards, the bricks in the wall, the very stars in the sky - all watching me, breath bated. They wanted me to let it out.

That's when the earthquake started. There was no chaos, though. There was a rhythm to it. I could feel rocks in caverns far beneath my feet dancing and clashing in perfect time. I heard concrete buckling, then wood smashing, then a great pillar of stone rose from beneath my feet, elevating me high above the crowd. No-one panicked or screamed or ran for the door. They could feel it too, now.

I held my hand aloft, and lightning struck me. No, I don't know how it happened indoors, that's just what it felt like. And then there was something in my hands. A curved, silvery blue guitar that shone and sparkled with brilliance. It was like I was holding, not a guitar, but the idea of a guitar.

I realised that rock, true rock, didn't need instruments. Oh sure, nylon-stringed guitars and piano keys and drumsticks could make something resembling rock, but the true rock, the spirit of rock, when it wants to be played, can play itself through the universe, through the very particles of the air around us. The clashing stones of the Earth were my drum solo. The rumble of a gathering storm was my bass. Between them, they introduced the song, the song of true Rock.

The first chord tore the shirt from my body. The second shattered every window in the building.

The music swept through me, through us all. The movements of my hands, guided by the spirit of Rock, were shaping tidal waves of sound. Everyone was on their feet, dancing and moshing like it was the end of the world. The entire school was shaking, partly from the earthquakes, partly from all the stamping feet. After opening the chorus with a particularly harsh riff, the entire school disintegrated. The walls and ceiling broke off and flew away into a gigantic swirling vortex formed by the clouds directly above me. All that remained was me, my stone perch, and the crowd.

I don't fully remember all the events of that night. The police came in, then the army, and all of them were hypnotised by the power of Rock. They tried using snipers from a safe distance but the bullets were just vapourised as soon as they got too close.

At one point I rocked myself out of my body. I was floating about a hundred feet above the ground, looking down at myself as I continued to assault the guitar strings. I rose higher and higher to the very peak of the vortex, and there I met the Spirit of Rock.

He told me that, when Buddy Holly's plane crashed and took with it him, Richie Valens and the Big Bopper, that the three merged and chose not to pass onto the next world. Instead, they would walk the Earth as a sort of Holy Trinity of Rock. Since then they had touched many aspiring musicians, and taken in those who had died.

Then he went into all the 'rules' of having the Spirit of Rock in me. Yeah, I guess this is kind of important to my application. He said that firstly the power was virtually limitless but that I shouldn't get a big head, that I was merely a conduit. The Spirit plays by its own rules. They said the power will probably do as I ask if I do so humbly, but it's not a guarantee.

I think around twenty people were killed in the first Rock Out. My geography teacher, Mr. Havers, he was sixty-five, he was headbanging so hard that his neck snapped. His body didn't actually stop moving for another three hours.

Thirdly they said the Rock Out can only be performed in front of an audience of at least 10 people, but more people makes for a more powerful conflagration. Also it helps if it takes place during hours of darkness, and that I should never be in a position of inferiority to the audience - that I would have to be elevated higher. They said I would know when conditions were ideal, just like I had done that night.

I was kidnapped by the military after that, once I'd settled down. I don't think my family minded, they were terrified of me after the first Rock Out, the whole town was. The army scientists wanted to see if they could weaponise the Rock Out. I knew it was hopeless, the Spirit of Rock would never go for it, but the devastation at the school was too good a possibility to pass up. The Spirit of Rock teased them, gave them just enough to keep them interested, like having me play chords that made things across the room spontaneously catch fire.

But time wore on and the funding was running out. Eventually the head scientist actually begged me. Begged me to show him something he could impress his superiors with. I felt sorry for him, so I consulted with the Spirit of Rock, and he agreed to a demonstration on a nearby military base.

What? Yeah, actually, it was Orange Leaf Military Base. Yeah, the crater was pretty big.

So yeah, I've pretty much been drifting since then but I saw your ad and I think the Spirit of Rock is into the idea. It's like, you know, how in the eyes of many people rockstars and superheroes are grouped together, that was how he worded it.

I see. No, I... no, I understand, I guess it isn't a very predictable superpower, I just thought this would be a chance to get my life in order. I tried joining a band once and six people died. No, I know you don't enjoy rejecting people. I can see how unhappy you all look.


Yeah, I'll just... how many of you are there, by the way? One, two... twelve? That's perfect. Yes, I'll leave in a minute, but first I just want to stand on my chair.

from the hand of Ben 'Yahtzee' Croshaw
What is this that stands before me?

Figure in black that points at me...


FUCKETH THINE SELF
#3
The hell am I reading?
[img]http://i.imgur.com/LYZyCdp.gif[/img]


Quote by CrossBack7
Momie's like not even a real person, just an asian, lesbian spirit.
#5
Quote by JacobTheMe
The Zero Punctuation guy?


Yep him.

Great story.
He's got his own novels out now called Mogworld.
What is this that stands before me?

Figure in black that points at me...


FUCKETH THINE SELF
#6
I don't care what it says in that text. There is no way a post that long with such a vague thread title isn't trolling.
#7
Its a short comedic story you tool.

Now GTFO.
What is this that stands before me?

Figure in black that points at me...


FUCKETH THINE SELF
#9
Jesus Christ, it looks like half the pit didn't pass basic literacy.
What is this that stands before me?

Figure in black that points at me...


FUCKETH THINE SELF