"Hee hee. Your face! Oh dear, Tazzy-girl. Lighten up will you? For fuck's sake, have a little fun! I've got my arm back, see? Still can't ride, and I can't get the high hat or the second bass, but I can give a pretty good riff, come on..." Captive audience. That was the term. Belle was grinning as she led the way into her study and eased herself onto the stool behind the massive (and incredibly expensive) drum kit. She picked up her favourite pair of sticks and twirled them. "You know, they never called me 'sticks', not even once. That's the traditional nickname for a drummer, you know...?"<br/><br/>She grinned. "You can sit down if you want... Or you can dance. If you stand up you have to dance to the beat." The ageing drummer was chuckling. "Right here we go...." She tapped the sticks together three times, partly to give herself the beat, but mostly out of habit, then launched into a descending drum roll across the tom rack and floor toms, then picked up a 2-2 rhythm on the bass and snare.<i>Boom-chicka-Chagga-chicka Boom-chicka Chickachacka Boom Chacka Boom-ba-Boom Chicka-Boom</i>... She was clearly having fun and kept the riff going for a good five minutes, weaving in variations and rolls, then built up to a massive finale, that ended with both china cymbals practically spinning on their stands from the three massive hits each one took.<br/><br/>The sound faded away slowly, and Belle smirked, wiping sweat from her face. She grimaced and flexed her recently healed arm as she eased herself back off the stool. The acoustics in the study were not the best, but the room had been designed to accommodate the drum kit, with the intention of it being played from time to time, and so they weren't bad either. no matter whether she stood and danced or sat, Taz would have the full force of the rhythm pounded into her bones.<br/><br/>"AH SHIT, that felt good!" Belle exclaimed, limping towards the girl. "You play anything, kid? You should. Everyone should be able to say 'I play something...' no matter how badly." She shrugged. "Ringo Starr was a fuckin' crap drummer, but he's a billionaire, thanks to the other three!"<br/><br/>She noticed that 'Cap'n Plastic' was flopping around loosely, having come unstuck during the climax of her drumming. She tugged at the thread that held the inflated creature in place, pulling it free. "Oh, sorry about the pirate thing, but... well I kinda feel like Long John Silver, with one leg an all, and I figured you could be my Jim Hawkins..." She paused. "You do know the story of Treasure Island, don't you?"