A Dance Together

Experimental rock, one vote... acid jazz, one vote...

...Death metal, one vote.

Same thing as yesterday, folks. We still don't have a genre set for this week's theme.

Debate time starts... now.

Sullivan! You promised me you would vote for death metal after watching that black box performance!

But the freedom of electronic music is the sound of the future!

I'll pay you back for your ticket—

Once I've sold my new work.

You really think the price of two measly tickets can match the everlasting impression that incredible concert left on your soul?

Change your vote.

I—

I'm afraid that's not possible.

To stop people from adding votes on their own, the boss told me to make the scoreboard from metal this time.

The boss gave me a budget, so I had to make do with the harder, cheaper kind. Only problem is, I need to use an electric drill to write the scores.

Seriously though, shouldn't we just stop with the voting at this point?

Rigged voting boxes, voice-controlled score panels, even attempted mass hypnosis... the cheating methods get more outlandish and scarier each time.

Last time, 'Maestro' juggled ten pieces of Originite Prime in one hand to draw our attention while changing the score with the other hand, just so Leithanian folk music would win.

The scariest part is that it worked.

Which is why 'Maestro' doesn't get to nominate anymore.

Huh? What did you say?

One vote... Just one vote, again...

It's just like it was back underground.

No one understands my taste in art! I can't take it anymore!

Come on, Tecno, don't be angry, you're my favorite customer.

But a community has to have rules. You know how hard it is to get these avant-garde artists to play nice with each other.

Even if your choice of music doesn't win, everybody's artwork gets to be displayed in the club for free, including your little puppet.

I know...

Besides, well, death metal is a little—

A little what?!

Knock it off, Sculptor! You can tally later!

Who is it this time? You'll do anything to keep me from winning, huh?

Hey, do you smell that?

...Tecno! Can you hear me, Tecno?!

I warned you kids to keep flammables away from the wires. The wiring in the club is a mess!

What am I saying... it's my fault. I should've known you wouldn't throw away your artwork.

...Diaz...? Papá?

Bueno, you're awake! Paramedics will be here soon. I'm so glad you weren't badly hurt.

Death metal... theme day...

Don't speak. You need rest.

Sullivan... Jefe... The others...

We're here at the scene of the fire.

Firefighters are on site, but rescue efforts are taking longer than expected due to the remote location.

As the fire spreads, residents in the local community are trying to fight it on their own. Let's interview some of the people affected.

Hello. Condolences on your loss. Do you know how the fire started?

Save the condolences. Shut your mouth and do something useful!

Nobody ever cared about fires in this community. We've never had reporters like you in here before.

It seems this community has been a fire risk for many years. Frequent fires, abandoned scrap... all have a significant impact on the surrounding areas.

What are you getting at?

The fire has nothing to do with our art!

It's true that we have to resort to scavenging scrap for our artwork because we don't have the money, but that doesn't mean we put any less artistic expression into it.

These street artists have no care or concern for the public. Despite knowing full well that their work is completely worthless, they continue to act with the extreme selfishness that has led to this tragedy—

I'll teach you to talk like that!

Uh... Despite their failure as artists, it seems their true talent lies in violence. It's hard to fathom how this group of unkempt vagrants claims to be artists.

Sullivan! Stop! He's trying to provoke you. This is live TV.

Did you forget how media spin lost us our only sponsor?

I know! But I just can't stand these people coming to jeer at us at a time like this!

The club just got renovated. We painted the wall brush by brush.

That Originium kinetic device next to the bar cost Sculptor two years of savings. It was going to an exhibition next month, might even get its own column in Art Review... but now?

Ahem... these hoodlums have intentionally placed flammable items such as paper, wood, and Originium products beneath aging circuitry, perhaps as some kind of perverted 'artistic expression'.

Without proper oversight, however, such disasters will only continue to repeat themselves.

There have been more and more 'accidents' lately, ever since the businessmen and military announced the acquisition plan for this spot.

Can you really not tell who sent that fraud of a 'reporter'?

...

...As we can see, what the tenants call a 'cradle of art' is nothing more than a collection of fire hazards.

Many upstanding members of society are willing to take up the rebuilding of this art community, and do their part for the development of Dossoles.

The military, in particular, is leading the charge...

Bravo, Captain Mateo! Even those hoodlums wouldn't dare cross the line now that the press has its eyes on them.

Hmph. The money-grubbers think all we know is how to shoot a gun, that we'd be no match for them when it comes to the acquisition plan.

But I've got much more experience than they do in dealing with those troublemakers of the art community.

You said it, sir.

If that reporter does his job, we'll drive these worthless tramps out of the community without having to pay compensation.

They may put on a tough face, but deep in their hearts, they thirst for recognition. Let's see what they think they can do, once we burn their nest to the ground.

Your cunning is matched only by your courage, sir! It's just a matter of time before that land is ours.

...This selfish, immoral behavior endangers the homes of countless innocent citizens.

Here we have a child who was just rescued from the fire. Let's ask her how she feels.

Where are your mama and papa, little girl? Are you in pain?

Who are you calling... little girl...?

No need to act tough, kiddo. We're here to show the world how terrible those scary hoodlums are. We'll help you get back home... ouch!

Who are you calling 'little girl'?! You call yourself a reporter when you don't even know what a Durin looks like?!

G-Get off me, you brat!

Turn off the camera, you idiot! Pull this psycho off me!

O-Okay!

...

...

Hmph... they're tough, I'll give them that.

Y-You're absolutely right, sir.

Ugh... that kid sure was strong for her size.

Sir, I can't get the interior of the club from this angle.

You've got legs for a reason. If you can't shoot it from the outside, go in.

The fire's been burning for a few hours since we started shooting. They managed to put the one at the club out, but the two neighboring apartments aren't so lucky.

Ha! All the better. The bigger the fire, the more sensational the photos, and the more likely this will make the headlines!

Hold it right there.

Sorry about that. We just want a couple of photos for a Society Tribune special. We'll leave once we have them.

Don't think I'm oblivious to your scheme. You use our charred artwork to grab attention, then turn the public against us to drive us out!

Now, now, what's with the slandering? How often does your, er, 'artwork' get a chance to be seen in newspapers and TV?

It's great exposure. You might even get famous, if you're lucky!

What kind of artist would happily subject her artwork, that she poured her heart and soul into, to the fires of the media?!

Heart and soul? Pfft. This trash you call 'artwork' was a disaster even before the fire! If anything, it's an improvement—

You don't know anything about art!

Sure, I'm just an ordinary viewer, but viewers have the right to their opinions too.

Clumsy brushwork, rough effects... even a third-rate amusement park's haunted house wouldn't take this crap.

At least now it has some value.

After all, isn't it you artists who say that ashes are beautiful too?

How dare you!

Get out of my way. You can't stop me.

I believe I can.

You're the fireman who came to fight the fire on his own?

So noble! Here's my card. Please, give me a call if you're interested in doing an exclusive.

Now, if you would excuse me...

The scene has not yet been secured.

What?

A comprehensive check is required to prevent secondary damage. We request your cooperation with firefighting efforts.

As far as I know... the fire department doesn't have any personnel assigned to the art community. You're overstepping, don't you think?

And as far as I know, electric sparks don't make clean cuts like these, aging circuits or not. Besides, I don't think our reporters are this... efficient, don't you think?

Hmph.

This isn't over.

Umm, sir? Why did the streetlights go out? It's pitch black here... I'm starting to get the creeps.

This is all the fault of that stupid firefighter. We'll go once we've got our photos of the scene.

Let's see how smug these hoodlums are when photos of their 'artwork' are all over the press.

Hey, where's the club? Did we take a wrong turn?

Sticky red liquid... it's still dripping... C-Could it be...?

Hmph! Those hoodlums splatter a few geometric figures with red paint and call themselves avant-garde. And they say I'm the one who doesn't know anything about art.

Art is not about form, but how it evokes emotions.

Joy, sorrow, anger, fear... true art strips away all the masks that the viewer is wearing, commanding total immersion with its power.

A height these people will never reach.

I didn't know you were such a connoisseur.

You saw how things were during the day. Those artists are like walking Catastrophes. Who knows what they'd do if they caught us?

I've already arranged with the station to get the video on air as soon as the storage card arrives. And we'll get our 'bonus' once Captain Mateo sees it.

Good call!

Wh-What's that sound?!

Come on, boy, look at the time, you should be in bed... my eyelids are drooping...

The fire really spooked him, dear. Be patient.

Look at you, getting all riled up over a couple putting their boy to bed.

The owner of the club said it was arson.

I'll wring the neck of whoever did it. Look how our baby's hair got singed...

Baby...

You're not scared of a little kid, are you?

No... I mean... there's a kid standing on the corner... and it seems to be... glowing?

But the moon isn't out!

Wh-What is it? Why is it looking at us?

S-Stop letting everything scare you! Can't you see it's not moving? Probably some scrap the hoodlums left here.

D-Do normal children run that fast?

L-Let's get out of here for now...

...Intern?

This is not what I expected for my first day on the job!

Why you son of a...! Wait for me! And don't you drop that camera!

You're getting better and better at manipulating your puppets, Tecno.

Got to thank the painter couple that lives on the second floor. They were furious at the fright that the fire gave their pet fowlbeast.

Third-rate amusement park's haunted house, eh? We'll show them what artists can do when they're pissed.

Art is about evoking emotions, eh? We'll show them how art can evoke this little emotion called 'fear'.

Get the boys ready, Sullivan. We're just getting to the good part.

*pant* *pant* I... I wanna go home...

Papá says children killed by fire become angry ghosts! This one must be here for revenge!

Oh, shut up... W-We didn't do anything wrong...

Are you out of your mind? Why are you laughing?! We won't get any pictures if we wake the locals!

It wasn't me! I-It's him... he's coming for us!

I thought our wires burned in the fire. How did you get that sound?

Turrión built a makeshift generator out of an exercise bike.

Cool!

He's not submitting a new work for our project tonight?

He is. The title is 'Turrión on Bike'.

His specialty is performance art, after all.

...

Dead end... We're done for...

Pull yourself together! It's just some stupid parlor trick. Get your camera ready. We're getting that bonus from Captain Mateo!

Aw! Ouch... Quit hiding behind me!

I-It wasn't me!

I think... there's somebody... behind us...

YESSSEEEEEEKKK—

I see. The sculpture's head is now driven by wind power rather than Originium, but the instability makes it feel even more alive.

Gotta give Turrión his due. The projections wouldn't have worked nearly as well, if not for him on the bike controlling the output.

He should get a side job generating electricity.

And I should thank that reporter too. A complete amateur, but what he said about beauty did give me some new inspiration.

I salvaged the transmission from the club, while trying out some new things with the interplay of light and shadow.

I'm planning to submit this sculpture for next week's exhibit. I think it'll be a smash hit!

Trying out new things...

You know, I've always been interested in all kinds of music.

I know, Tecno, but I don't have the money to pay you back for the tickets right now.

No, that's not what I meant...

What I mean is, are you up for a collab song?

What was that? Why do I feel like someone's whispering in my ear when there's no one there?!

Hey, I like this synthesizer.

M-My brain's all jumbled... Will we ever get out of this place?

Hell yeah! You hear the eight bars of dissonance? Planned by yours truly.

HELLLLLLLP—

Gotta hand it to you too, Tecno... Didn't know you could sound so... guttural!

I see light! We're outta here! Screw Mateo's bonus!

*cough* I've wanted to try that forever.

More into it now? I'll take you to my favorite heavy metal band's next gig. No excuses the next time we vote.

Deal! But only if you do my vocal sampling for my next track!

Deal!

Hey, where did they go?

*pant*... *pant*... how did these two... *pant*... end up... *pant*... over here...?

...

...

*pant*... *pant*... And... *pant* they're out cold...

The conversion of... *pant* kinetic energy... *pant* into... *pant* electric energy... *pant*... is so tiring... *pant*... Tecno!

Good work, Turrión.

I knew I was right to save you for last.

Yikes, muchacho, you almost scared the daylights out of me!

You look like a corpse that just got trawled out of a lake... what happened to your clothes?

Hehe... *pant*... the sacrifices we make... *pant*... in the name of art...

What do we do now?

You know, screams aside, this kid's pretty handy with a camera.

It's not often the community comes together to put on a show like this. It'd be a shame if only two people got to see it.

Hey, didn't they say they would put the video on air as soon as it arrived?

Tecno? What are you doing by yourself here when everyone else is celebrating at the party?

You see the reaction to the broadcast?

Absurdist, horror, farce... people are calling it all sorts of things, but at least the TV station won't be back for a very long time.

Doesn't mean we can rest easy, though.

There are a lot of people with designs on our turf. They don't see value in street art; all they want to do is to run this bunch of 'unproductive vagrants' out of town.

Yeah... Today's party is a farewell for some of us.

It's tough enough that doing art costs so much with so little recognition in return. If we also have to constantly fear for our safety, things will get really hard...

At this rate, who knows when the club will reopen again...

Excuse me...

Are you the street artists from the late-night show on TV?

That's us.

Wow! Can I get a picture with you? My friends and I love the artwork in that short!

I'm not an artist, so I can't explain why I like them with technical terms. But I can feel certain emotions, like the release of pent-up frustration and a sense of self-mockery... Sorry if I got any of that wrong...

You... you really do like our artwork?

Yes!

Which piece is your favorite?

My favorite...?

Hey, what's with all the people...?

Please give us a sec.

Good thing the scoreboard survived the fire.

Voting is not over yet, friends. Just because my choice of music didn't win doesn't mean my artwork won't!

Our artwork.

If you like the mix track, cast your vote for the first and last numbers.

Here, girl, take the drill.

So cool! Is this some kind of new interactive installation?

Just a little idea of mine.

By the way, if you like the sculpture over there, vote for the number in the middle.