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Maybe, if Jogo is lucky, a comet will strike the ground where he stands and obliterate every single one of his companions. That would be preferable to the nonsense taking place.
“Bwah bwah bwaaaaaah!” Mahito continues making trumpet noises, oblivious to Jogos steadily building irritation.
“Blbb blb blbb pbt pbt,” Is Dagons contribution to the cacophony assaulting Jogo. It’s some sort of mix between sad beat-boxing and blowing bubbles. Jogo is not particularly impressed.
Hanami isn’t imitating an instrument, but they are humming at a volume Jogo hadn’t know was possible, which is about the same level.
He doesn’t know where Geto went. Jogo wishes he had also gotten out of here before it had derailed to this point. Mahito abruptly stops his noises to whirl around on Jogo.
“You aren’t joining! Sing with ussss!” He urges. Dagon gives Jogo puppy eyes over Mahitos shoulders. Or, well, his normal eyes. Jogo averts his eyes from the sight.
He would rather choke. “Absolutely not.”
“You’re such a killjoy.” Mahito sighs. “It’s just a band! It’s not like anyone but us will hear it. And Geto-san.” Jogo levels him with an unimpressed look.
Mahito pouts, then puts forth a proposal. “Okay, hear me out, you can play drums and just hit them really hard.”
Jogo mulls it over. “You’re getting the instruments yourself.”
With a whoop and a twirl, Mahito turns back to where Hanami and Dagon were watching the conversation, pausing their terrible recruitment method.
“We’re back in business, baby!” He announces to their cheers. Jogo rolls his eye, pretending like he isn’t smiling.