Driver Picks The Music, Shotgun Shuts His Cakehole

One of the fun things about time travel is getting to see the characters react to the popular culture of the time that they are in. Obviously that is going to happen in the main Quest threads as well, but I wanted to set this up specifically as a place where Our Heroes can bitch about 'My Heart Will Go On' or introduce Arjay to power ballads or whatever and not have to worry about their conversation being interrupted by minor things like being attacked by the forces of darkness.

So have fun, don't worry about exactly when the discussion is happening and don't worry about post order.

Well she hadn't honestly expected to use it, but Belle had tucked her phone into a deep pocket, assuming once they got back she'd want to check in with Chris the minute she stepped out of the portal-

She'd remembered correctly and back in the 90s there had been tapes with Aux cords attached, suppose to be used to connect CD players to tape deck only cars but they worked jusssttt finneeee for her phone…

One truck stop later and- ‘feel like a woman’ began blaring out.

Belle nodded briskly settling back into her seat.

Queth didn't have a ton of musical preferences so she wasn't really concerned about Belle hooking up music to the dash until she was hit with the cheesiest music of all time. Groaning, and doing her best to keep her eyes on the road and not roll them, Queth winced slightly. "God- You're giving me the worst flashbacks. My gym teacher used to make us do burpies to this song."

Queth made a bit of a face- even as she contemplated turning off her ears until the song was over. "You're lucky they had Orbitz back at the truck stop- else I'd be in a much worse mood." She remarked offhandedly- reaching for the weird as hell drink she had become quite fond of- and been rather disappointed when it disappeared. She grabbed her bottle from where she had shoved it beside her hip and opened it for a sip- grateful for the additional dexterity of her metal hand to help with the process.

Something occurred to her with a bit of a laugh. There were three people that she knew hadn't lived through this year- Queth bit her lip and paused. "So! Arjay, Luthien, Steve- what do you think of 1998 so far?"

What… exactly was this music that they were listening to? He could place some of the instruments playing… or at least, he thought he could, but some of the music didn’t seem to be coming from any sort of instrument he knew of. The tune was upbeat, but there wasn’t really anything in the lyrics that spoke to him. He supposed that maybe they were in a part of their world that lacked any real musical talent… it was a sad occasion, but it did happen sometimes.

“It’s much more… open than I expected, from what I saw on the Hub. I mean, I’ve seen pictures of the real thing, but nothing really gives you a good idea of it like your own eyes.” He considered what he’d seen so far, then added, “It smells,” almost apologetically. “Apparently from having so many of these,” he added, tapping the side of the van that he was leaning against. “Not so much after we got out of the city, I suppose, but it’s a very… caustic smell. I think I’m getting used to it now.” He looked down at the shirt that Dean had helped him find when they’d stopped for earth-clothes at that… army supply store, he supposed it was. Granted, judging from the wares he saw there, he didn’t know whose salvation that army was preparing for, but they might need all the help they could get… “Fairly comfortable, too. Much easier traveling than any mundane travel we’d make on my world, I suppose that’s what you have to resort to without magic?” He glanced at those who would know, then shrugged.

So far, 1998 didn’t seem bad. They were driving, on their way to Nantucket, and so far things seemed to be going smoothly. That was good.

He was looking out the window as they drove, watching the scenery, trying to get his bearings and remember if he’d ever been out quite this far west (he hadn’t) when he found himself humming along with the song on the radio. Or playlist. Whichever, it was more or less the same thing. He knew the words, though, and so he switched to, singing along quietly, not wanting to bother anyone, but he knew the words, and that wasn’t all that common for him. Thank you, Clint.

“It’s not bad. The cars haven’t changed all that much in the years between now and when I’m from, and…” He chuckled, “No magic means we invent other ways of travel, yes. I miss my bike.” And his phone. Or more specifically, he missed Tadashi. A lot. Frowning a little, he shook his head, “If I’d known that I could bring my phone, I would have. Tad would have been useful.” And good company. “This is the year Titanic came out.” See? He knew things! “Celine Dion’s song from that movie,” he made a face, “Was high on the billboards this year.” Again, things he knew thanks to Clint. (Okay, Celine Dion was Natasha, but he’d promised not to tell anyone that, and he was keeping that secret.)

So, he hadn't exactly expected the Belle chick to have GOOD taste in music, but Dean had in no way expected it to be...that. Still, she was pretty hot, it wasn't the Impala, and he wasn't driving, so he kept his mouth shut as Shania Twain did her thing. He glanced around surreptitiously, trying to gauge his other companions' reactions to the (admittedly maybe a little catchy) music. Queth had announced her dislike for the music, while Arjay looked, well, a little sad and a little confused. Captain America, on the other hand, was singing along. Dean's filed that away under things he really hadn't needed to know. Hell, even Sam had better taste than that and Sam practically was a woman. He supposed maybe Cap hadn't had the chance to listen to much modern music yet.

"What the hell is a burpie?" Dean asked. While, as a rule, gym class had been by far his favorite class at any school they'd landed at, he'd still missed more classes than he'd gone to. The real training he'd done with his dad had always seemed more important than any of that kiddie shit.

Dean remembered the late 90s pretty fondly himself. He'd finally dropped out of high school to hunt full time, his dad had given him the Impala, and he and Sammy had had a good amount of freedom when Dad wasn't around. Those had been, as close as he could figure it, the good old days--the ones he'd longed for after Sam had gone to Stanford and spent that whole year of looking for Dad hoping they could return to. It hadn't been perfect, obviously, since his dad was his dad and Sam had had his foot halfway out the door already, but still. Hearing the names John and Sam at breakfast that morning had left him even more nostalgic and feeling a little like someone had just punched him in the stomach.

Still, he smiled slightly at Arjay and Steve's evaluations of 1998. "It gets smellier," he promised Arjay. They were taking 84 east toward Idaho, which meant a lot of trees, some fields, and not a whole lot else. "Seriously. Lost Lake? Not a city. Not by a long shot."

Cap, on the other hand, was still adding items to the list of things Dean had never really pictured Captain America enjoying. "...Kate Winslet fan, huh?"

The next truck stop they pulled into, Dean headed straight for the tapes. Zep was an obvious choice, and he also grabbed Kansas and Metallica albums, pretty much all the truck stop had to offer that wasn't the freaking Spice Girls. He didn't have much money on him, but he was driving soon and he'd be damned (again) if he was going to do it without something worthwhile in the tape deck. Anyway, he pretty much felt like he owed it to Arjay and Cap to introduce them to some real music.

Belle was used to being watched, while she didn't find herself very pretty she did recognize that a certain type of man would definitly give her a second look, and she used that when she was a bartender. When she noted Queath also giving her a look or two...well she wouldn't say it was unheard of, and terribly flattering did fluster her a bit since she was less prepared for that sort of reaction...but it did mean that she felt comfortable sneaking her music choices in while Queath was driving.

What did everyone have against Shina? Belle sighed ah well no accounting for taste! At least Steve was singing along! Belle smiled at him her voice wasn’t anything to write home about not really, sure she’d been in the choir and such and had taken a few lesson but that was just small town ‘ok’ hell she wasn’t even the best vocalist in Langley! But that didn’t mean she’d leave the man hanging! Belle smiled widely at him, adding her voice to his, along with a few winks and small shimmies her seat belt allowed.



Still once the song died Belle flicked her eyes at the current driver and scrolled around her phone till she found something maybe more her speed...after all never let it be said she didn’t have a wide range of tastes! Music

Belle had no idea what a burpee was either and was willing to wait for Queth to answer that, maybe it was some sort of strange exercise…?

“Least on my world, when I left there was a huge surge ta clean burning thin’s like electric. The trains are mostly electric. An’ thats nice and quiet an’ not smelly.” Belle chuckled, “Sides ah’d take a bit of exhaust over cleanin’ up after a team of horses!”

After they hit the next truck stop she spots Dean picking up tapes and ceeds control of the tunes, saving the power on her phone for later.

Luthien listened to the music, trying to hear the melody, the sense to it, tried to understand how it was anything other than loud, discordant noise. But it was so strange.....
"It sounds like machine noises, as much as it does music. There are things like that everywhere here. And horses aren't that smelly, not to mention that manure is at least useful. Unlike the stink that these cars make." Luthien said. She shook her head "I'm sorry, I'm getting too serious. Let me show you what we call music in my world" she looked over at Arjay "May I borrow your guitar?" he nodded his assent and handed the instrument to Luthien. Who took a moment to get familiar with the instrument, and proceeded to lay down a very credible acoustic version of 'Ramble On'.

Arjay considered everyone’s points about the smell here, and decided that it might have a lot to do with what one was used to. “I’ll concede that point,” he allowed Belle. “Human cities on my world always seem to like the use of horses within them, and I’ve never quite understood why. I suppose it’s expediency valued over the air actually smelling clean.” Not, of course, that horses were unseen in Evermeet or Evereska, but not to the extent that they seemed to litter cities in the rest of Faerun. “But the smell is, at least, natural, the product of nature working as it was meant… and I’m going to stop now before I start sounding like a petulant druid.” Yet another product of growing up the son of an archdruidess…

He let Luthien take the instrument easily enough, watching curiously to see how the instrument was commonly played. Oh, he could figure it out, he could play it like any instrument, but there were always touches a native player had that he couldn’t have picked up. Luthien apparently wasn’t a stranger to playing, which was interesting at least. He could very easily picture this song being played in the forests where his family lived, and found himself wishing he had a drum among the things in his pack, this song sounded like it should have a strong percussion line accompanying it.

Queth laughed slightly at the music change. She tilted her head at the attractive red head beside her. "I don't dislike it- but somehow I don't feel it suits the year too much." She offered softly, enjoying the atmosphere a little, even as she focused on changing lanes to continue the so far smooth drive. She hummed softly along with the played music that came from behind her- her autotuned voice not adding much of anything to the sound.

She snorted at arjay's comments before shaking her head. "I've heard much worse. There was this one druid- rather than walk around the hole to get to her animal companion- she leaped across it, when she was incapable of making the jump. She fractured half of her bones doing it." Queth explained with a chortle.

"I... don't believe that I've met a druid who was quite that... dense?" he offered, shaking his head. "Usually they're a bit sharper than most people. Their affinity with nature keeps them from having their mental faculties affected by things that might addle another person, like age or poison or drugs. I have known a few that were fond of making people think that they were inebriated when they were completely clear-headed and listening intently, of course. More advantage to them if they could get whatever troublesome person was present to partake with them." If Arjay disapproved of those methods, he certainly didn't show it. "Of course, there was one in the area I was last residing who might have been a little addled from the start. He was always blaming every problem on wizards and the use of arcane magic, calling it some... 'arcanocentric conspiracy' against nature?” Arjay shook his head dismissively. "The more troubling thing was that occasionally he was right, but he was a bit tiresome, always trying to give people charms against arcane magic’s lingering effects, trying to measure contamination by the growth patterns of flowers, drawing boundaries around areas and insisting that no magic-users aside from the godly variety were permitted to pass without making the situation worse. Utter lunacy, but a powerful druid. He grew good pipeweed, though."