"A hundred years ago, music was recorded on these crazy wax cylinders," Kin explains.
Around the couch sat Laney, Kin, Kon, and (Y/N) all focused on a phonograph on the table, an old time-y tune playing.
(Y/N) narrows their eyes, trying to figure out how today's record players were less compact than the one in front of them.
"Music on wax?" Kon throws his head back in disbelief, "They had so many new ideas in the past!"
Laney leans in for a closer look, "We could use it to record our gig today. A hundred year old song on a hundred year old candle!"
"Well, the cylinder is new. I made it today," Kin corrects her and throws his arms up, "Out of hundred year old candles!"
"You have some fun hobbies."
Kin's grin doesn't fall when he turns his head to (Y/N), who has a similar smile, and neither do his arms, "I was originally trying to make something to bash your head with-"
The front door to the Riffin household opens, and Corey walks in holding a bulky book.
"Hey guys," he holds up the book, "I found some old photos of great grandpappy Riffin."
"STORY TIME!!"
The twins squealed before slipping under the table to sit criss-cross at the front of the garage stage, where Corey situated himself on a crate.
Laney and (Y/N) slowly make their way over with less vigor but as much interest.
Corey flips open the scrap book and shows it off like he's teaching some kindergartners. He might as well be.
He points to a photo in the corner, "This is Cylus Riffin. He wrote the original Peaceville anthem one hundred years ago today."
The photo has Corey's ancestor, a spiffy young man in a flat-top ribbon fedora and Isaac Asmiov-rivaling sideburns, holding a sheet of music to show to the camera. In a sepia tone, of course.
"I was expecting an old time-y mustache," Kin carps, holding his chin on his palms.
Kon pats his brother's shoulder repeatedly, "Hey! It's our great granddads, Flynn and Flonn."
He gestured to a photo of two men with strikingly comparable appearances to Kin and Kon both holding a metal container and shovels above a dug hole in the grass.
"Identical," (Y/N) hums, looking at the photo to the twins a few times.
Kon makes a 'so-so' motion, "Not quite. They were fraternal."
"Still no mustaches though," Kin grouses again.
Corey gives the photo some more thought, "This must have been taken where they buried the Peaceville time capsule," he taps it.
"Are any of your great grandparents in here too, (N/N)?" Kon pats their leg.
(Y/N) leans into the book and Corey meets them half-way, holding it up to their face for a closer gander.
"Not sure, my mom said (G/N) didn't like photography very much. Uhh...oh hey, in background of Cylus'."
They point back to the same picture Corey had shown previously.
Sitting on the piano bench, supposedly after the making of Peaceville's anthem, a person with a two-thousand yard stare looks off into the distance, charcoal smeared over their face and biting on a wooden pipe.
"I did remember something about someone helping Cylus compose," Corey hums, noting a resemblance to his favorite emo.
(Y/N) snaps their fingers and thumbs back to Corey, "Ma also said (G/N) was a war criminal...or a refugee. One of those."
YOU ARE READING
Grojband | Reader Insert
Fanfiction+Gender neutral pronouns used +Gendered chapters as well +Memes after chapter 1, but better stuff at chapter 3 and through out +Memes stop after One Plant Band because they were cringe. Grojband with a fifth member! This is one of my first works o...
