Chapter 1: References
Chapter Text
Tango: front section leader, mallets + gong (junior) (blazeborne)
Impulse: percussion captain + drumline section leader, snare (junior) (demon)
Skizz: snare (sophomore) (harpy)
Pearl: bass (first-year) (moth avian)
Joel: drumset (junior) (butterfly avian)
Cleo: color guard captain (senior) (zombie)
Xisuma: electric guitar (sophomore) (void walker)
Pyro: brass captain, trumpet (senior) (demon)
Fwhip: high brass section leader, trumpet (junior) (shapeshifter)
Kab: trumpet (first-year) (rabbit)
Jimmy: mellophone (junior) (bird avian)
Scott: color guard (junior) (starborne)
Maddy: flute + tech (sophomore) (enderian)
Rae: trumpet (senior) (harpy)
Katie: mellophone (first-year) (harpy)
Linc: baritone saxophone + clarinet + tech (sophomore) (enderian)
Kantje: music librarian (senior) (end-raccoon hybrid)
Zam: main drum major (junior) (lava strider)
Clown: second drum major (senior) (???)
Sausage: low brass section leader, baritone (senior) (ghast)
Gem: woodwind captain, flute (junior) (nature spirit)
Grian: bass (sophomore) (bird avian)
Squiddo: color guard (first-year) (???)
Martyn: baritone (junior) (human? Fae?)
Scar: mallets (sophomore) (vex)
Zed: props (sophomore) (sheep)
Cub: props (junior) (vex)
False: color guard + props + flute (graduated) (bird avian)
Etho: percussion (graduated) (???)
Win: trombone (first-year) (demon)
Josh: tuba (sophomore) (piglin hybrid)
Muu: tuba (senior) (nature spirit/cow)
Art: flute (first-year) (enderian)
Circe: color guard + clarinet (junior) (witch)
Kyle: mellophone (junior) (human?)
Ren: trumpet (senior) (wolf)
Doc: tuba (graduated) (creeper/goat/butterfly)
Pix: composer (teacher) (human?)
Bdubs: trumpet + drum major (graduated) (nature spirit/moss)
Beef: props + organization (Minotaur)
Mumbo: props (sophomore) (shapeshifter)
Owen: tech + snare + baritone (junior) (shapeshifter)
Apo: bass + alto sax (junior) (demon)
Graecie: piccolo (junior) (nature spirit)
Chapter 2: The First Day
Summary:
Band Camp Begins!!
Notes:
Characterization and some plot points are also based on Amethystfairy1’s Through the Blue Sky Cracks AU and Dead Relatives and Daddy Issues (ft. the student government) by leafcabbage! This is my own AU, but I love all the quoted fics dearly and wanted to explain my inspirations.
This focuses both on the marching band aspects and the relationship aspects, so if you’re here for totally just accurate band stuff… sorry. I’m quite hungry as I’m writing this, so some details might be wonky! :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Erm?”
Tango whips around, clutching his phone with his claws, and faces the two taller figures. One is a butterfly hybrid, with beautiful wings in shades of emerald and verdant. The other is harder to classify- though Tango’s used to that- with his armor.
“Hi?” he says. “You’re the newbies, right?”
The armored one nods. “I’m Xisuma. I play electric guitar…?”
“Oh, so you’ll be with me!” he brightens immediately. “I’m Tango, of the Tek variety, and I’m the front ensemble section leader!”
“Oh,” the butterfly says. “Ugh, so I’m with you as well?”
“What do you play?” he asks, ignoring the distaste with the ease of someone used to younger siblings.
“Drumset.”
Tango nods. “Then… yes! Name?”
“Uh, Joel. Joel Beans.”
“You wouldn’t happen to be the Joel who hung around w’ Grian and Jimmy last summer?”
“That I am, actually. Are they here?”
Tango points with his tail, and Joel beelines to where Grian is talking to Impulse and Owen about… organization, probably. Pix had gotten on him for that last year.
“I’ll just… go?” Xisuma says awkwardly. “D’you know where I can put my guitar?”
Tango thinks for a moment. “Leave it behind a marimba for now. We’ll get it later.”
He bobs his head and turns to move, then:
“Which one is that, exactly?”
Tango stifles his laugh and explains, “The big ol’ keyboard lookin’ things. Marimbas are wooden, though- probably don’t lift the covers to check. It’s fine wherever.”
“Oh, wonderful.”
He looks relieved, the blazeborne notes. Like a little of his nervousness had been lifted. Which, honestly, was understandable. He himself was still anxious, three years in.
“Hey!”
Tango grins as a figure bounces in his direction. Pearl trips, grabs her cape, and spins around.
“What’s up, Pearlo?”
“Oh, not much… I’m glad to finally be here, is all. My dang cousin decided to wake up late, so-”
His flares shot up. “Jimmy’s here?”
Pearl grins slyly. “…Yep!”
There’s a cut-off scream from down the field to the parking lot, a weird half-chirp half-hiss that sends Tango running across the grass.
There he is, leaning against the beat-up red truck the blazeborne knows so well, wings flared and one leg raised as if in pain.
“Rancher!”
“Oh, oh gosh, Tango! Rancherrr!”
Jimmy’s taller than Tango, and obviously fluffier, but the thing about avians is that they’re constantly cold. So when he, in his excitement, knocks the both of them over (luckily the truck was parked at the edge of lot), Jimmy rolls over and gives Tango a mouthful of golden feathers.
“Ahhuff, hey!”
“M’sorry,” he mumbles. Then, a second later, “I think I hit something.”
Tango shoots up immediately, whacking himself in the head again, and says, “Where? Lemme see.”
“O-oh,” he says. “Uhm. I think I’m okay.”
“Suure.”
“Hey, lovebirds,” interrupts a familiar voice. Scott grins at them, hands oh his hips and a glint in his eyes. “Whatcha doin’?”
“We’re not-” Jimmy protests, then registers who’s talking and rolls his eyes. “Oh, come off it.”
“You’ve been gone-”
“All summer!” jumps in Martyn, pointing a finger accusingly; evidently, he had snuck up, as he often did. How? Tango didn’t know.
Jimmy lays back on the grass. “I broke my leg. Again. And messed up my hand. Again.”
“I’ll do your music,” offers Martyn.
Tango squints at him. “You can’t read treble.”
“A-ha-ha-ha, that’s what you think!”
“Crap!” hisses Scott, who’s remained standing and now stares down the horizon. “Go go go! It’s nearly call time!”
Tango scrambles to his feet, trips, and reaches out a hand to help Jimmy.
The avian shakes his head. “Go on, I’ll make it.”
The blazeborne bites his lip, glancing down at where the band and guard have started to gather. “You sure?”
“Sure!” he says lightly. “Meet you there.”
Tango nods, once, then dashes back to his spot- and just in time, too.
“Okay, now that everyone’s here- wait, is everyone here?”
Tango, Scott, and Martyn all point a finger in the direction of the lot. Zam glances that way and nods. “We’ll start with leadership then; Jimmy knows all that.”
Grian raises a hand. “Scar can’t make it until Wednesday.”
“We’ll catch him up,” Zam says. “He’s not missing much, anyways.”
Another hand goes up in the back: a rabbit hybrid, with ears nearly longer than her extended hand. She clears her throat, and points out, “Clown’s gone.”
“He’s doing… stuff,” says the strider, with the air of someone who has no clue what ‘stuff’ Clown is doing.
The rabbit shrugs and goes back to fidgeting.
Zam claps his hands together. “Okay! First off, leadership. I’m the drum major, Zam, so I’ll be in charge of y’all. Pix has stuff to do, so most of the time he’ll leave the leading to me. What else-” he snaps his fingers, thinking- “oh! He/him. Kantje?”
The raccoon waves from his position next to him. “Hello all. I’m Kantje, your music librarian. I use he/him pronouns as well, so please. Don’t call me whatever nonsense the kids are using these days.”
There’s a few giggles. Kantje bares his fangs in a smile. “Who was that?”
Silence.
“If you don’t tell me, you’re all getting it.”
Cautiously, a few hands creep into the air. It’s mostly first-years: the rabbit, a human with glasses, a harpy, and Grian.
“You’re honest,” says Kantje. “That’s good. Ten push-ups, each.”
The harpy glances around, locks eyes with Tango, who winces and nods, then drops along with the others.
“And that’s why you don’t talk while leadership is!” Zam says as the last of them, glasses-kid, finish. “Even if I do know you. No favorites in marching band!”
“Also,” adds Kantje. “For reference, the rest of tech crew- that’s not props, go elsewhere for them- is Millkberry, Lincu, and Owen. Raise your hands, please?”
The trio do as he says. Linc hunches his shoulders, clearly not used to the attention.
“Soo… when are you getting to us?” shouts a voice.
Zam nods. “Over to you, Pyro.”
“Wonderful! I’m Pyro, he/they, and I’m your brass captain. High brass section leader is Fwhip, who is…”
“Doctor’s!” yells Gem with a wave. “Hey everyone-!”
The returning band members return the roar.
Tango grins.
Gem laughs. “H-hey, hi, I’m GeminiTay for you noobs. Call me Gem, she/her. I’m woodwind captain, and my brothers Fwhip and Sausage are high- and low-brass section leaders respectively!”
“Heey!” Sausage boos from the back. “I’m here!”
His exuberance is enough for Pearl to roll her eyes, smack him with a bass drum mallet acquired from… somewhere, and point at Impulse behind her.
“Oh! Oh, hi. I’m Impulse, and I’m the percussion captain and drum line section leader! Passin’ to Tango!”
“Heya, ladies and gents and everyone else. I’m TangoTek, your front ensemble and/or pit section leader! Who else is- oh, Cleo!”
Jimmy comes around and sits. He’s borrowing a cane from Scar, Tango notices.
“-and so Scott and I will be co-leading the color guard this year!” Cleo finishes.
…Whoops. At least he already knew that?
“What’d I miss?” Jimmy whispers.
Tango shrugs. “Intros.”
The avian nods slowly, leans back on his hands and seems to regret it; he settles on the grass with half-spread wings and hunches over his legs.
“I think the NHO are coming around lunch?” Zam says, calling the attention back to him. Ren shoots him a thumbs-up and he continues, “Let’s let everyone else introduce themselves! Name, grade, preferred pronouns, and instrument please.”
“I’m Skizz, sophomore, he/him, and I’m on snare! Come to me and Impy if you have any drum questions!”
“Pearl! I’m new here and I’m playing bass drum. Oh, she/her please.”
“Ack! Pearl- okay, okay, I’m Grian, Pearl’s brother. Also on bass.”
A mallet goes swinging across the field. Impulse sighs.
“I’m surrounded by idiots,” Joel mutters loudly.
“Say again?” Zam says with a grin.
“‘M Joel,” he answers. “Drumset. First-year, he/him. Don’t touch my things, I will bite you.”
“True,” Jimmy mumbles tiredly.
Tango glanced at him. “You good?”
He nods, suddenly. “Yeah! A’course, just… sleepy, I guess.”
That was definitely a lie, one that he didn’t have time enough to process.
“Hey! Bad Boy!”
“Oh. Oh, gosh, okay. I’m Jimmy. Hi. Down… here?”
He attempts to stand and ends up leaning on Tango’s shoulder.
“Whoa, hey, sit back down,” Tango cautions. “You don’t look so hot.”
“‘M am,” he protests. “I’m- I’m fine, gosh! See?”
He lets go and wobbles. Tango gasps as he falls, ninety pounds of deadweight against his arms, delicate bones and lanky wings.
“Jimmy!” he yelps, and together they sink slowly to the soil.
“Hey! Hey! Move it!” snarls Martyn, pushing past the growing crowd.
There’s a hand on his shoulder and the distant sound of a whistle.
“Let go,” Scott says to Tango, who blinks slowly and shakes his head.
“The heat isn’t helping,” he says gently. “C’mon, I’m sure you need a drink too.”
Tango glances at Jimmy, at Martyn and Circe, hovering, at Scott’s stars glowing icy blue.
He lets go and swallows hard. “They’re going to need us.”
“Later,” Scott says. “Later, spark. Impulse can handle the drill.”
He laces his fingers through Scott’s colder ones and lets him lead them away.
*
“Is he-”
Tango stumbles into the shade of the water tent, tail drooping. Pearl barrels into him and tugs him away from Scott to go sit next to Gem.
“Drink,” says the nature spirit firmly. She holds up a cup full of glowing lava.
Tango shakes off his whirling thoughts. “I’m fine, Jimmy’s the one-”
“Martyn’s with him,” Gem says through gritted teeth. “Scooot, tell him.”
“It was probably heat stroke or something,” agrees Grian, who looks… far too still for Tango’s peace of mind. “Must’a locked his knees.”
Tango takes a sip of the lava and sighs. “Gee, Gem, you know how to make good wart cocoa.”
She elbows him. “There we go! I do, don’t I?”
A head pokes through the screen. It’s Muu, a cow hybrid in senior year. She fidgets with her hooves for a moment, then says, “Cici says he hit his head.”
Oh. Oh. When they met- when Tango-
Which means this is his fault.
He is burning up, thoughts scattering and reforming like paper cranes; frozen as the tundra and thin as sunlight shattered on ice.
“Tango?”
He runs, past Gem, past Muu, past the band’s block. There’s a car in the parking lot, a battered old red truck, and there’s an ambulance, and golden feathers and golden hair.
He’s still there, so he can-
He can-
Apologize-
The doors close. Tango slows, a stitch in his side and flares pressed to his flames. Martyn turns around just in time to see a scorched circle of poppies.
*
“I- I’m a little worried, actually,” Zam confides to Doc over sandwiches. “A medical emergency on my first day, really?”
“It happens,” he says, swallowing his bite. “Accidents, I mean- when it’s hot.”
“It was Jimmy,” Zam says, idly picking at a warped stem. “The canary. That’s bad luck, in’t?”
Doc unfreezes and exhales. “I told him he should have waited. That pesky bird listens even less than his cousins! That should not be possible!”
“But still- it looks, bad, doesn’t it?”
“You cannot be blamed. No one can.”
“I guess so. I’m just-”
“Worried?” Doc supposes.
The strider nods slowly. “Yeah. That’s it.”
“Techno was a great drum major,” Doc says, hesitantly reaching out to put a hand on the younger’s shoulder. “His hooves guide yours, but you must tread your own path.”
“That’s… abstract.”
“Ah, it is, isn’t it?” he laughs. “Yeah, yeeah. Beef said it to me, once. Or- quoted it from some book.”
“Warrior Cats Arc Four!” yells Kab from in a bush. Zam and Doc look over.
“What are you doing?” Doc questions.
“Eating.” She gestures at her salad and cookies.
“In a bush?” says Zam.
Kab shrugs. “It’s quiet.”
“Fair enough,” Zam says. “Uh. About the-”
“I’m great at keeping secrets! You know that!”
“…True! So, Kab, how’s band?”
She shrugs again. “I’ve been coming for two years already, Zam, it’s nothing new. Kyle keeps being weird and sappy. Squiddo bonked herself on the head with a flag. Clown- oh, look, there he is!”
Zam cranes his head to see. “Where in Nexus’ name have you been?”
“Scouting,” he says, crossing his arms. “Hannah and Red promised to keep me updated on Roost’s progress.”
“It’s band,” Kab tells him with an eye roll. “God, you don’t need to be so competitive.”
“Band,” Clown repeats. “Marching band. It is competitive. You’re scored. High school band matters, Hopper.”
She glares at him and pins her ears. “You stole Kantje’s nickname.”
“So what if I did.”
Doc glances between the three. “I’m… going to go see what’s up with Etho and Tango.”
Clown and Kab don’t respond, still locked in their staring match. Zam gives a half-hearted wave.
*
“No noobs?” Etho is asking Tango, clearly in an attempt to distract him.
He shakes his head despondently. “Well. Guitar and drumset.”
“Who’s on aux, then?” Doc asks.
He shrugs. “I can cover some. Do we have music yet?”
“Nearly. Pix actually knows how to write percussion, so…”
Tango perks up, flares blazing. “Hold on- really? Finally! No more constant rewriting!”
“Apparently it’s a lot of aux, though,” Etho continues. “Snare and bass solos at the start, mallet feature in the ballad… cymbal work, uh-”
“Bells,” Doc adds suddenly. “Maybe some voice, if we someone willing.”
“You think we can finally convince Wels and Stress?” Tango wonders.
“Hopefully, if they’re not too busy with choir.”
“There’s that new first-year,” Doc offers. “I have heard she is good, although lacking in confidence.”
“Joe’s doing that poetry challenge,” Etho muses. “Acho said stars full with rock- modern band.”
“That’s where Xi- Xu- the guitar player came from, and Joel.”
Etho lifts an eyebrow. “Joel?”
“Oh yeah, he said he based his technique on yours or something.”
Doc sputters a laugh. “Ooh, Ladders’ got some fans?”
“Big fans,” Tango agrees with a nod. “I could… introduce you?”
“O-oh, you don’t have to-”
“Great! Heey, Joel, where’d you gooo-”
“Ta- ack! No. No!”
*
“I hate this,” Jimmy says, staring at the speckled ceiling tiles. “I’m just- I-I dunno, but-”
“It sucks,” Scar agrees with a nod. “It’s the first day of camp.”
“The first day!” the avian shouts. “Couldn’t even wait for day two!”
“We can go on Wednesday,” Scar says. “Whether they let us out or not, I’m going. They can’t keep me from my love.”
“Stop referring to mallets as ‘your love!’” Fundy yells from just outside the door.
“No!”
There’s a knock on the half-opened door. A nurse comes around and pokes his head through the frame. “Keep it down, please.”
“Yeah,” Jimmy says, quieter. “Yeah, sorry.”
The nurse twitches his whiskers and gives the two sympathetic smiles that mean absolutely nothing.
“I’m missing out on drill,” Jimmy mumbles. “I need all the practice I can get.”
Scar leans back and stretches before stopping with a wince. “You could always join me and Tango!”
“Yeah, well, I can march. It’s fine.”
Scar frowns. “And if you-”
“Don’t say it.”
He sighs. “Jimothy… you’re supposed to be the role mod- role model, you’re older than me!”
“I’m a little messed up, haven’t you noticed?” he snaps. “I can’t even blumin’- I can’t- I’m- I need to march. I can’t just sit and waddle my thumbs.”
The vex narrows his eyes. “I’m a little messed up, then.”
“What? Scar, no, you’re- you’re good. I’m just a mess of accidents.”
“Accidents, exactly, so you can’t blame yourself for-”
Something starts beeping on one of their monitors.
“Blah blah blame-! I can’t- I’m cursed, Scar, and there’s nothing to be done about it! I’m not glass!”
“You don’t taste like glass,” Scar says, which is out of pocket enough to make Jimmy pause in his rant and Fundy swear.
“I- what?”
“You know. Glass.”
“You eat glass?”
He shrugs, awkwardly. “I ate sand one time?”
“A’course you did,” Fundy mutters.
The beeping slows. Jimmy exhales.
“Cycle,” he murmurs to himself.
“We’re getting out of here,” Scar tells him. “Back to life in no time.”
“And what if we’re back?”
He doesn’t have an answer for that.
*
“This has been a… interesting day,” Zam begins. “I’d like to report, with their and their families’ permission, of course, that both Jimmy and Scar are doing okay! Ren’s suggested we make cards, even if they’re back by Wednesday, so if you want to help with that, let him know.
“Also! Nearly all of us are ready to try marching with instruments tomorrow, so be prepared for that. If you need extra help, ask your section leader or captain. Leadership, raise your hands?”
Thirteen hands go up.
“Ask them before me or Clown, please! I think that’s it? Anyone else got anything?”
“Front with Etho tomorrow!” Clown yells. “Meet on the field at eight!”
Zam nods. “Thanks. Okay…”
He claps his hands. “AH TEN HUT!”
“Cadets!” everyone shouts, arms at their hips.
He grins, claps again, and says, “Dismissed! Clean up!”
“I won’t leave my trash!” Apo chants. “Hey, everybody! Come on~”
“I won’t leave my trash!”
“I WON’T LEAVE MY TRASH!”
“Take your instruments inside!” Kantje yells. “Help front!”
Katie, Kab, and Art immediately pivot and go to wheel the glockenspiel towards the building. Gem floats by with the chalk. Graecie snatches up a wrapper with distain.
Zam laughs. If there was one thing he could say for sure, it was that this band certainly had passion. And the love of the sport, of the musicality, of the amazingness of it all, that was what drove them to be better. This wasn’t a perfect start, definitely, but it was one, and that counted more than any numbers could say.
*
Tango lingers after, helps Etho and Owen rearrange the mallet section, aids Pyro and Gem in the putting-away of cases, figures out a place for Xisuma’s bass. He lingers long after everyone else has gone, beyond even Impulse and Skizz, and wanders the halls as Pix locks up.
“Hey,” Scott says causally, falling easily into step with him. “You left your keys.”
He had, in fact, not left his keys, but found his pockets empty when he searched. Martyn walks out of a classroom, laughing, and winks at him.
“Ha ha, very funny,” Tango mutters, catching his keys when Scott throws them and stuffing his hands into his vest.
“How ya holdin’ up?” Martyn asks when Scott doesn’t broach the question. The starborne winces. “What? You weren’t going to say it.”
“I’m fine.”
“Usually, people who are ‘fine’ don’t say it all angstily.”
Scott shoves him. “And who’s talking, here?”
“A perfectly sane teenager, I assure you!”
“Uh huh, and-”
“Oh, shush, this is about Tango.”
Wuh oh.
“‘M okay,” he says again. “Jimmy’s the one I hurt.”
“You didn’t,” Scott corrects. “It was an accident. No one was at fault.”
“I tackled him!”
“And maybe we all should’ve been more careful, but you know he hates that.”
“Well then! I should’ve. I will. I can’t let him get hurt again.”
Martyn glances over at him and swings their arms around so the trio stop walking. “That’s not up to you, bud.”
“Don’t ‘bud’ me, Martyn, I’m older than you.”
Martyn scoffs. “By a month!”
“Month is all that matters,” Tango says. “I’ll convince him to join front, it’ll be fine, and then we can all be happy. No more accidents, no more hurting, no more pain.”
“Let’s talk unrealistic expectations,” Scott says, pointing at him. “You. Go to therapy. That’s not going to happen, because fate and the Universe and astrology.”
“Whoa there, Starboy.”
“Geez, you’re snarky,” Martyn commented.
Tango whirls on him, flares flashing. “Well maybe I wouldn’t be if you weren’t so on my butt about everything! I’m fine! It’ll be fine! You just need to mind your own business!”
Martyn recoils. Scott hisses.
“You’re perfect for each other, you little gossips!” he shouts, heaving, and then runs down the dim hallways, boots echoing against the walls.
Scott and Martyn watch him go, shocked. “He didn’t mean that,” Scott says. “He didn’t mean it, Marty. Right?”
“R-Right.”
He couldn’t.
*
“Tango! You nearly ran me over!”
He chooses not to think about the implications of ‘deer on the road, car runs over deer’ that Gem brought up and instead asks, “What were you doing?”
“Hunting.” She grins at him through the open window. “What about you?”
Tango drums his fingers on the steering wheel and sighs. “Just headed home.”
“Awfully late, huh? Wanna stay with me?”
He nearly accepts before remembering that Gem is a hunting nature spirit and says politely, “Naw. Parents won’t even notice.”
“Ah, well, I’ll text you and yell at you if you’re awake in an hour. Good luc-”
He speeds away, breath too caught in his throat and head too clouded to continue.
Gem frowns at the receding silhouette, considers all that she’s seen today, and dials a number on her phone.
“Niki? Yeah, I think we’re getting close.”
The voice on the other side responds. Gem nods. “Yeah. D’ya think we can get them in together?”
Quiet.
“Puffy’ll come? Oh, that’s wonderful! Tell her I said thanks- and hi!”
She hangs up and smiles to the trees. A squirrel wanders into the underbrush and her smile turns to a grin.
Notes:
Well… they all have issues. Jimmy is struggling with internalized ableism and not being able to participate in one of his favorite things, Tango is spiraling and ALSO is pulling a drdi!tubbo, so…
Yes, there are DSMP characters here :DD they’ve all graduated and stuff, off in the later years of college, but they’re around. Puffy is a therapist :)
Characterization of role-play heavy characters especially is based much more on IRL selves, but not completely (re: Kantje and Pyro)
I have several plot lines I want to pursue in future installments, including:
Ranchers!
Flower Court! (Tango, Jimmy, Martyn, Scott)
Kab finding her voice and confidence by playing trumpet
Jimmy and Scar being stuck in the hospital
Magic joining the band (ft. Older brother Owen)
Getting This People Therapy
Perhaps some K!Arcaneduo? I dunno(This was late and I didn’t get to other prompts because I am FINALLY at the comfort/fluff stage of the MCYT Sweet Tooth AU! Super excited to share it with you whenever I finish!)
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