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He'd almost eaten it. By accident the first time, then because of frustration. In fact there were ketchup stains on the sheet of paper that looked a bit like blood. He'd thought about slipping it into a burger or something, then he decided burning it might be better--which was why there were charred marks on the corners. THEN he'd stopped and decided that exploding it would be the best idea, which was why the note was taped around a firecracker--and still there, in his pocket, waiting for a lighter and a proper time (which meant any chance he got to terrorize someone with it. Probably Amphi, she was driving him nutters.)

But there Roch was, at the old crypt at moonrise, his guitar ready. "Why the jack I'm doin' this, I got no clue," he muttered before tuning the guitar quickly and starting to play. Well, the note SAID to rock out.

Roch finished the song. Never let it be said that--nah, he often cut out half way through when he was taken off guard--or at least missed a note. But he hadn't--mostly because this song was so ingrained in his brain that his fingers played without consulting the brain.

"You're Nox, right?" Roch said. "The guy that ran that massive, fiery obstacle course. Sup?" So in consideration, the punk boil thought, his eyes on the fire ball that Nox was so casually using as a light, Danny--his best friend, didn't summon fire balls for no reason, and she was an idiot. So this guy, who was definitely beyond a third year fire demon (one that caught his pants on fire too many times to count) was the one that sent him the note.

Jackdammit, that meant he was both a walking torch and smart. Roch was smart enough to know when NOT to yell about annoying puzzles. "Want another song?" he offered, instead.

"Well, maybe not your job title, exactly," Roch admitted, "but I got a fire demon for a best friend--she's a ditz, but she's pretty dangerous when you piss her off. So I'm figurin' you're someone I'd rather not piss off at the moment, these pants are new, y'know? But I also figure you're one of those trick or treaters, like the guys that run the booths during the festivals--this ain't about how I covered that punching table booths with spray paint, is it?"

Then he frowned. "Woulda thought I'da gottten in trouble for that a long time ago," he admitted. "Then again, it WAS Riley that wound up standin' there with the can..."

Roch thought about it for a long second, cocking his head slightly. "All I've got is a drunken skeleton that knows his way around a guitar, and I haven't seen him since I started school. But I doubt you're offerin' to teach me my chords. So no, I don't think I do," he said. "You gonna teach me to be a trick or treater?" he asked.

Well... considering his options... "Hell, why not?" he decided cheerfully. "TP'in is a hell of a lot of fun--I can bring my spray cans, right?"

He looked at the Ifrit blankly for a moment. "All I know is music," he said finally. "So it'd probably have somethin' to do with that, right?" He sat there, thinking about all the stuff he'd done to try and solve the note that Nox had sent him. "Twenty six... thirteen... seven notes... toss in sharps we've got twelve--" A frown pulled at his lips. "Ah... I might have somethin, but it might be a little hard to figure out..." he said. Possibly minor chords... or using a flat instead of a sharp for one--

"I need a bit of time for that. When do you want it by?" Roch asked.

"Good stuff? Jack, boss, why didn't you tell me so in the first place?" Roch asked, digging through his pockets. "I was screwin' around a lot with the note you sent me--I figured out that more than one letter could be represented by the same number, y'know? Then I took and flipped the alphabet--"

He stopped talking, moving the paper where there was enough moonlight, and started jotting something down. "It ain't perfect, I'm not that fond of usin' a flat, but hell, can't really turn twelve into thirteen, can you?" he asked as he finished writing. "And it'll be harder to decode, cuz there's two choices for each of the notes," he said, handing out the sheet. "Will this work?"

"Mostly? That it took place before I joined Amity," Roch said, looking irritated by that fact. "I know Tahki was part of one of the bands, and a few others, but no real details. Although I vaguely remember somethin' about it bein' more battle than band," he said, finally looking at the stage. "I'm guessin' this was where it took place?"

He hadn't really thought of where it would take place--he'd always sort of assumed it'd been in the fields or something, with a makeshift st--

Oh. Yeaaah.

"Seriously?" Roch asked, his eyes going wide. "YESSS!" he said.



"I can TOTALLY do that!! Abso-jackin' lutely! You got it, Boss!" he said. "I'm gonna need--" he turned, looking at the stage. "To fix this up and get the word out," he said. "Without gettin' caught," he added absently, not really that bothered about that part at all. "I'll start on it as soon as possible," he said. "This is gonna be a jackin' BLAST."

He was going to need some food stands, he decided. Oh, and maybe someone good at running the time table part of the job...

And... as much as he hated the idea... possibly tell that piss-ant Johnny Danger.