章節 8: The Rainy BEAT
Rain lashed against Kamilah's window, a melancholic rhythm that mirrored the state of her Twitter feed. Scrolling through a monotonous parade of news articles and celebrity gossip, she felt a familiar pang of discontent. Where was the good content? The funny videos?
Just as she contemplated logging off, a retweet from a small hip-hop blog that retweeted Atlanta artist, caught her eye. The caption read: " New freestyle alert! This kid's got bars. Check out ArellRose #UndergroundHipHop #AtlantaFreestyle"
Intrigued, Kamilah clicked on the link. The video opened on a grainy shot of a white walled studio, four figures huddled around a microphone. The low-budget aesthetic only heightened the anticipation. As the beat dropped, a young man, quite good looking in her opinion, with a determined glint in his eyes stepped forward.
The first verses hit her like a shot of adrenaline. Raw, unpolished, yet filled with a potent energy that resonated with her, his flow further drawing in her attention.
Kamilah found herself nodding along, captivated by the honesty in his voice. There were moments of humor, playful jabs tossed back and forth between the friends in the background, adding a layer of authenticity to the performance.
By the end of the freestyle, Kamilah was grinning from ear to ear. This was pure, unadulterated hip-hop, something she loved. She had to share this. With a flurry of keystrokes, she crafted a tweet: "Yo, this ArellRose guy is fire! I haven't seen a freestyle with rappers having fun in a long time! Does he have any Music released? #AtlantaStandUp."
Hitting send, a surge of satisfaction washed over her, she was further intrigued to see if he had any other freestyles or music, to her disappointment, after scourging the internet she was unable to find any.
(Scene Break)
In a quiet residency, a stark contrast to the bustling city life outside, Arell a world away from Kamilah's Twitter woes hunched over a computer desk. The air crackled with a different kind of energy – the focused intensity of creation.
Arell, his brow furrowed in concentration, had retreated to the studio. He followed the system's advice, diligently practicing and honing his skills. The computer served as a learning tool. Earplugs blocked out the faint sounds of the rain drumming against the lone window, allowing him to immerse himself in the music of established artists. He dissected their lyrics, their flow, their delivery, searching for inspiration and the subtle nuances that elevated their craft. Every now and then, he'd mutter to himself, a flicker of understanding lighting up his face as he absorbed a new technique or rhyme scheme.
But Arell wasn't just consuming music; he was actively creating it too. In between dissecting tracks, he'd switch his focus to a blank document on the screen, his fingers flying across the keyboard. Jotting down his ideas, crafting lyrics that resonated with him. His diligence wasn't without reward, as he noticed a rapid improvement in his stats which according to his system was attributed to the his statuses; "Expansive Vocabulary", "Ear for Music" and "Foresight Gambit". With Geoffrey's presence at the house, he was offered suggestions for improvement that he wouldn't have had came up with on his own.
His hard work couldn't be attributed to just his integrity, the System, that had been oddly silent as of recent had assigned Arell an unsuspected quest drawing his attention back to music.
ACTIVE QUEST:
Time Remaining: 5 Days, 15 Hours, 24 Minutes
Objective: Craft a track with a System score of 40 or higher within the next week.
Reward: Unlock a song structure from a future song made by a random artist
Penalty: System functions cease for a YEAR.
The System's challenge loomed large - a song with a score of at least 40 within a week, or face a year-long silence. The reward, felt like a carrot dangling just out of reach, all the more tempting because of the harshness of the penalty. A year without the System's guidance was a terrifying prospect, what exactly it meant by song structure, it did not offer to reveal, its meaning remaining hidden.
Thankfully, the past few days had been quiet granting him the time to refine his abilities, the most notable event to occur being Geoffrey's revelation that he was 'related' to Arell, a good excuse for his continued presence at their home, a claim that raised more questions than answers but ultimately, had been accepted. Despite his preference for solitude, Arell found Geoffrey's presence surprisingly stimulating.
The Architect skills being of substantial use during Arell's learning process, as ideas bounced around the studio, with the two tossing out rhymes and metaphors that challenged Arell's perspective, their abundant creative energy feeding off each other.
However as a consequence of Arell's consistent hard work, tirelessly striving to improve his ability to create music, he found himself fatigued, a constant strain gnawing at the edges of his focus. He craved a break, a moment to step outside the studio and breathe in the rain-washed air. But the clock mocked him, its digital glow a constant reminder of the looming deadline.
Unfortunately for Arell, Geoffrey's presence at his home had been inconsistent, his absences now starting to take a toll on Arell, as the three other occupants of his home were either working on their own skills, searching for local jobs or out partying at nightclubs- specifically Kenny and Malik, a terrible idea in Arell's own opinion given their current circumstances.
Arell found pleasure in the fact that they weren't lazing around, yet he couldn't hide his displeasure in the lack of company he had. Their presence, while distracting at times, offered a sense of normalcy in the face of Arell's solitary pursuit.
Now, with Geoffrey's sporadic appearances, the silence felt deafening, punctuated only by the tapping of Arell's fingers on the keyboard and the insistent hum of the computer. Apparently, Geoffrey was out there in the world, "prepping legalities" and "making connections" as he vaguely put it. Whatever it was, it pulled him away at crucial moments, leaving Arell alone.
Surprisingly enough, he found his break away from the ever-encompassing silence of the studio in Aisha. The girl who he had stumbled on while shopping. Their occasional texts, sprinkled with subtle flirting and witty observations, provided a welcome distraction from the studio's oppressive silence.
While Arell reveled in this digital companionship, a different kind of buzz was brewing online.
Unbeknownst to Arell, Kamilah's tweet had taken on a life of its own. The retweet by the small hip-hop blog had sparked a conversation. A few dozen users chimed in, some praising the energy of the freestyle, others debating the technical aspects.
Back in the residency, oblivious to the online buzz, Arell glanced at the clock. Hours had melted away, the only markers of time being the growing document on his screen and the fatigue creeping into his eyes.
With a satisfied sigh, he leaned back in his chair, analyzing the improvements he had made so far.
Name: Arell Rose
Alias:
Stats
Strength: 42
Agility: 60
Stamina: 43
Durability: 54
Intelligence: 72 ——>74
Charisma: 68 (+15 Boost due to handsomeness)
Rapper Stats
Flow: 56 ———>56.5
Voice: 58.5
Lyrics: 29 ————> 36
Production: 53 ———> 55
Performance: 14
Freestyle: 40
Songwriting: 32 ———>35
While his improvements may seem small, Arell realized the increase in his stats was substantial in relation to the amount of time he had spent practicing. A satisfied sigh escaped his lips as he leaned back in his chair, making a song was no joke. Many lacked the creative spark that would allow them to create a good song within such a minuscule amount of time. He was thankful that the System had granted him "Ear for Music," and "Foresight Gambit." These two skills granted him the ability to draw inspiration from almost anywhere.
This song, the one he was crafting under the ever-present pressure of the System's deadline, was turning into something special.
A critical part of that special something was the beat. It wasn't the usual braggadocio-laden bombast that often dominated mainstream hip-hop. Instead, Arell had drawn inspiration from an unexpected source – the melancholic rhythm of the rain lashing against his window.
The first tendrils of the idea had formed during one of his late-night study sessions. Lost in a sea of music theory, a stray thought flickered across his mind. He glanced out the window, the cityscape obscured by a curtain of rain. The sound, a steady, insistent drumming.
Suddenly, it clicked. The pitter-patter against the glass, could be transformed. With a few tweaks and manipulations, he could sample the rain, turning it into the backbone of his beat. It wouldn't be a traditional trap hi-hat or a booming kick drum, but it would be unique.
He layered the rain sample with a sparse, downtempo melody – a single piano playing a minor key progression, tinged with a hint of blues. The overall effect was a laid-back, introspective vibe, a perfect canvas for his lyrics to paint their picture.
He yearned for something more, a darkness that mirrored the storm outside, a vibe that sent shivers down your spine. He started tweaking the rain sample, sculpting it into something more sinister. Every drop became a heavy thud, like footsteps echoing down a deserted alleyway. But underneath, he craved a low-end presence that rumbled your core. With a few clicks and dials, a thick, distorted bass line pulsed beneath the rain, mimicking the distant rumble of thunder. It wasn't a clean, booming bass – it was fuzzy and distorted around the edges, adding a layer of grime to the atmosphere.
Then came the percussion. Traditional hi-hats and snares felt out of place. Instead, he opted for a more subtle approach. He meticulously placed a few, tastefully delayed hi-hats, their metallic clicks echoing sparsely through the soundscape.
He auditioned a few vocal samples from his library, warping and detuning them until they sounded like disembodied whispers, barely audible beneath the rain and piano. He added a single, drawn-out gasp, like a startled breath in the darkness, right before a barely audible "Shh," that sent a shiver down his own spine.
The overall effect wasn't just laid-back and introspective anymore. It was a canvas laced with a cold, murderous intent.
He had spent hours attempting to incorporate even more complexity – a haunting choir chanting a discordant melody or a distorted vocal sample muttering cryptic threats. But his production skills, still lagging behind his newfound creativity, just couldn't handle it yet. Frustration gnawed at him, but this time, it was laced with a newfound determination. He slammed his fists on the desk, frustration morphing into a cold resolve.
"Complexity can wait," he muttered. "Less is more, for now." The only positive to come out of his frustration being the increase in his production stat as he continued to push his limits.
He muted the haunting choir and distorted vocals, leaving only the raw elements – the relentless, distorted rain, the throbbing bass, and the sparse, haunting percussion. Then came the claps, not the snaps of a typical hip-hop beat, but sparse, spaced-out claps that echoed through the soundscape, each one subtly different, adding a human touch to the otherwise electronic sounds.
But straight grim dark wasn't his style either. He needed a melody, something to keep the listener hooked, a single line that could pierce the tension without breaking it. His fingers flew across the keyboard, coaxing a lone piano out of the digital silence. It wasn't a soaring melody, but a single, mournful phrase, a minor key blues progression that hung heavy in the air.
The final touch – a single, shimmering synth arpeggio that danced around the beat like a neon sign flickering in the rain. It was sharp and icy, a distorted melody that felt like a streetlamp illuminating a puddle, reflecting the city lights with a cold, distorted gleam.
He scanned the completed beat, a sense of accomplishment washing over him. But the beat, while powerful, was just the canvas. Now came the lyrics, the words that would paint a vivid picture. Looking at the corner of the computer screen, he squinted through blurry eyes. Thirteen hours had bled by in the studio zone, fueled by creativity and cold brew. He had came in at one pm, and dawn had creeped through the window, painting the sky in complete darkness. His stomach rumbled, as he stood up from his chair, stretching his tense bones and joints, the rest of the song would have to wait.
(A/N) For immersion with the beat play raindrops by Metro Boomin, or Goosebumps by Travis Scott. No it isn't the same beat.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Active Quest:
Time Remaining: 5 Days, 1 Hour, 4 Minutes
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Name: Arell Rose
Alias:
Stats
Strength: 42
Agility: 60
Stamina: 43
Durability: 54
Intelligence: 74
Charisma: 68 (+15 Boost due to handsomeness)
Rapper Stats
Flow: 56.5
Voice: 58.5
Lyrics: 36
Production: 55
Performance: 14
Freestyle: 40
Songwriting: 35
Hidden Stats [Locked]
Business Acumen: 39/100
Marketing: 20
?
Hidden Statuses
Expansive Vocabulary (Rare)
Ear for Music (Extremely Rare)
Foresight Gambit (Rare)
Street Hustler (Uncommon)
Chicago Streets: Lyrical Inspiration (Uncommon)
Roulette [Locked]
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AmSincere
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