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Part 1: Notehander

"Play the music again!" Orin commanded greedily with his lava red eyes wide and his fanged teeth cracking a domineering smile.

"Yes, sing for us," Tavarice commanded with his deep baritone voice and a smirk curling slightly on the side of his face. Despite his down turned eyes that gave him a relaxed look, his tall stature and muscular build was intimidating.

Electri timidly looked up at her two demanders. She had to do it. Besides, they could physically harm her if she didn't do what they asked. Orin had his blowtorch ready in his hand, and she did not want to be threatened with it again. Or, possibly entertain the idea of being beat up by the towering Tavarice...

The night sky was illuminated with flecks of stars that seemed to be watching them and the cold desert sand underfoot felt uncomforting to Electri.

Reluctantly, she shut her eyes hastily and began to sing. She extended her arms and then joined her wrists together so that her arms and hands could fuse to channel the song that began in a small amber-esk orb in her throat that glowed faintly. The music came out of the pores of her fused palms that were outstretched like a venus flytrap without hairs. She was like a living record player.

"It's music is a weird kind of good. Which is bad because..." Orin paused, thinking for a moment on how to articulate his feelings while rubbing his chin with his free hand rather slowly.

"Well, what has it come to? Tavarice asked the pondering Orin.

"I...I don't understand it."

"And?" Tavarice asked, probing further.

"The sound is...different and it's confusing because, well," he said mid-snicker, "I have never heard anything like It before...and, that's why it's bad."

"I agree," Tavarice responded.

"Sound Spitters are weird.... And weird things... don't make sense!" Orin suddenly went from an odd combination of joy to rage. Also, calling the Notehanders "Sound Spitters" was derogatory in nature.

Orin lunged toward Electri suddenly, trying to scratch her, but Tavarice pulled him back by the scruff of his vest rather easily, because Orin was the shortest of the three. But Orin still lashed out like a crazed, rabid animal, with his arms and legs thrashing about. However, he was still trapped in the grasp of the tightly gripped Tavarice.

"What the hell, Tavarice?! Let me at it!"

"Please, Orin. Why physically hurt the thing? It will be of no use to us damaged or dead," Tavarice said logically.

"There are millions. MILLIONS! Of. The. Same. Sound Spitter. One out of millions is nothing!," Orin combatted, face palming himself.

All while this occured, Electri's eyes that were once filled with polarizing anguish were now squinted shut and her shoulders bounced. She was laughing. She couldn't help but find Orin's behavior comical.

"Now what's the sonically inclined showboat doing?!" Orin demanded of Tavarice to provide an answer.

"It appears to be laughing."

"...WHAT?!"

"Yes. Laughing.

"At. What?!"

"You."

"Fizzbits. That's crazy! It's kind obviously isn't intelligent enough to understand anything except when someone asks it to play music and do chores. That's. It's. JOB! Why in the ages would it do anything else? It wasn't made for anything else!" he steamed.

"It must be broken," Tavarice said definitively.

"EXACTLY! That's what um sayin'! It's obviously busted." Orin added, his contorted anger showing a devilish smile.