#A Tour Through Englund
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So I'm rewatching Bones and guess who shows up?! As the creepy highschool janitor who may or may not be a killer with a room full of very sharp objects?!
*bangs pots and pans* Come get your slutty old man Bex😘
GOD! I knew he was in Bones but I hadn't SEEN him in it you know?
I figure this is as good a time as any to make this official. Since Tina and I got divorced, the podcast we always talked about, A Tour Through Englund, where we were going to watch and talk about everything Robert has ever been in, is obviously, cancelled and never happening. I would feel weird doing it solo since it was a project her and I came up with together plus I dunno if I could support doing a whole podcast of that size and scope on my own. SO! Sucks but that dream is dead and buried.
This means however that my excuse to watch everything he has ever been in is gone and it's back all on me to do that shit when I can. Maybe I should watch this one random Bones episode tomorrow?
#The dream is dead yall.#But FUCK IT WE BALL#A Tour Through Englund#CANCELLED#It sucks because the name for this podcast still FUCKS#BHF asks
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hello yes I am prolpting the WRATH thing because your post about henry/jason from yesterday made me wsnt to know ALL THE THINGS OMG
Henry/Jason | The Final Girls | Angst with a Happy Ending | FR15 | 1,616 words Henry and Jason meet, face to face, for the first time in thirty-four years since their childhood romance went up in flames.
Normally, the tip-tap of the keys of his typewriter would soothe Henry. He would lose himself inside his fictional world, playing with figures he could control. Sometimes they would surprise him but, ultimately, they obeyed his every whim. Reverend Michaels should be outlining the mystery with David, the charming and suave head of the local village’s theatrical society. Someone had been found murdered in the churchyard and there was a crime afoot. But Henry just sat, slumped in his chair, as he stared at the blank page. It was difficult to write his own mystery when one lingered around him. Not just that pesky business with the tennis shoes and the mysterious cassette tapes. No. It was Jason.
Always Jason.
Yesterday was the first time they had seen each other face to face since 1989. The events at the Englund Theatre hadn’t counted, not really – Jason had barely registered anything as Henry had cradled the shell-shocked man close while police took away the bodies of his murdered cast mates. A small thrill had run through Henry, yesterday, seeing the coat he had draped along Jason’s shoulders all those years ago still draped along his lithe frame. Of course, Henry had kept up with Jason’s career. He’d watched every one of his films – even the truly awful Bonecrunch sequels – and most of his guest star appearances both in the US and the UK. His short-lived podcast had been delightful. Henry had listened to it as he’d walked along the Venice boardwalk, hearing the cadence of a man he had loved so dearly, so deeply thrum in his ears.
Now he was here. In Henry’s new life. Looking to stay.
He turned back to the blank page. The good Reverend would have to wait another day, it seemed. Sighing, Henry threaded out the sheet of paper and placed it in the recycling – tomorrow he would start afresh. Henry stood; began collecting his things. Then two raps on the door. “Olly, love, give me five minutes and then we can grab a drink. I think I need one.”
The door opened. Not Olly. “Sorry to disappoint.” Jason. “Can I—can we talk?”
“Alright.”
The last time they had stood face to face had been in the lobby of Ipswich Crown Court. Both of them had been dressed in ill-fitting suits; both weary, older than their years. Henry didn’t know how to hold himself in front of the man Jason had become. He tugged his hands at the hem of his undone waistcoat; black gloves hiding his scars from view. The bracelet Jason had given him was on his wrist. Had he spotted it? It appeared not. He, too, fussed with his appearance; uncertain, unsure. Henry’s coat had long been discarded. Threadbare jeans, a t-shirt from Last Known Survivor’s ’03 tour,black nails. Still weary. Still older than their years. Henry waited for Jason to speak. He had said the last harsh, biting word all those years ago. It only seemed fitting that he begin now.
“You didn’t tell her. Bernie. You didn’t tell her who I am.” Jason paused. “Why?”
Henry didn’t meet Jason’s eye. Instead, he toyed with a black thread at the fraying edge of his left glove. “Here, we, uh, we don’t tell each other’s stories. What happens to us…it belongs to us. It was not my place. Did you—”
“—I couldn’t very well not tell her, could I?” Jason ran two hands through his dark hair, longer than it had been when they had been at school together. “Can you honestly imagine me producing a podcast about survivors and their stories? Me? You know who I am. You know what—”
“—your father did.”
Jason’s eyes went wide. “Oh, it’s my father now, is it? Because the last time we saw each other, Henry, you said I was just like him. That you didn’t feel safe with me – that you expected one day I’d…that I would hurt you.” His voice caught on the last word, like it had done all those years ago. “You said that to me, Henry.”
“I know.” Henry finally met his gaze as the guilt washed through him. As soon as those words had left his mouth, he had regretted them. They had played in full surround sound, in the darkest moments of his life, over the past thirty-four years. The words stung, like an open wound, as Jason repeated them, now; the consonants and vowels spat at his feet. There was no excuse. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry. Do you know what those words did to me? My father murdered six teenagers—”
“—including my best friend! Let’s not forget, darling, that you told me I could have saved Ben. Do you know what those words did to me?” Henry drew in on himself, putting some distance between himself and Jason. He sat on the corner of his desk, hand gripping the wrist that held Jason’s bracelet. It was a cheap thing, bought at some Essex seaside town. The elastic had broken twice; he’d had to replace it. Yet he traced the curves of the black beads as his breathing calmed. “I wanted to hurt you – and I did. So, you hurt me back. You broke my heart and I…I reacted poorly.”
Henry was tired of guilt. Of grief. He was tired of being haunted by words he had said so long ago – and he was tired of hurting the man he loved. So, Henry took a step forward. And another. Then another. He touched Jason’s wrist with the tips of his fingers. “I’m sorry.”
Jason drew in his own, calming breath. The fight fled the rigid line of his frame and he exhaled harshly. “I know you are. I do. And I am, too, you know. Sorry. About all of it. Lying to you; keeping who my father was from you. What I said about Ben—” He sighed. “I was madly in love with you. Crazy in love. And the moment you said those words I knew you didn’t love me back and I just…lashed out. So, yes. I’m sorry too.”
They didn’t draw closer. Didn’t come together in an embrace or hold each other through their forgiveness. Instead, Henry’s hand fell away and Jason stole to the small sofa in the corner of Henry’s office. He took a seat, bony elbows pressed to the ridge of his knees, body slumped forward. Henry busied himself with two glasses, the pitcher of water, and a bottle of apple and blackcurrant squash he kept in a desk drawer. Henry then joined Jason at the sofa, olive branch in hand. Jason lifted his head and grinned – the first time that Henry had seen him smile in over thirty years – at the familiar shade of juice.
“Still can’t stomach tea then, Hen.”
“No. Or coffee. I can just about manage it if it’s loaded with milk and sugar and syrup. Still three sugars and a dollop of milk?” Jason nodded. The smile remained. Henry took up position beside him, leaning back against the sofa. He observed the cords of Jason’s neck, the muscles shifting under his t-shirt as he settled back. You are still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Henry tucked that thought away. They had put a quarter of a decade quarrel to bed. After tonight, he’d never see him again. No need to indulge in thoughts of what might have been. What could have been. “So, what’s next for you? Now that you’re not doing the podcast.”
“I’m doing the podcast.”
Henry’s eyebrows lifted into his hairline. “You-you are?”
“It appears so.I told Bernie who I was. Told her what my father had done. She told me it wasn’t an issue, that I belonged here. Especially after what happened at the Englund.” Jason took a mouthful of juice. “I feel like I’ve just joined a cult.”
“We prefer family.” Henry beamed. “But I’m not surprised. I’ve known Bernie over twenty years. Stubborn is putting it politely. And if she wants you here, she feels like she – or we – can help.”
Jason nodded once, twice. “Not surprised you two are close. She said that your word was all she needed. What exactly did you say to her?”
Henry paused. Sat, admired the ripples of burgundy liquid through the curvature of the glass. And then: “I said that you were a good man. That I trusted you implicitly. And it’s true.”
Their eyes met. Henry felt the floor of his office give out underneath him; he had never quite prepared for Jason McCallister staring at him so openly, so full of…emotion. Love, it had been then. Henry wasn’t sure what it was, now. Fondness, perhaps, for the days that they had once had, roaming through the Suffolk countryside as two halves of the same whole. Now the world had brought them back together. There was too much between them for them ever to be in love once again. But there was the hope of friendship. Of new beginnings.
“I should go. Got an early start; planning, arranging interviews. I could…” Jason shrugged. “…walk you home?”
Henry didn’t mean to laugh. “Darling, I live in Venice. A little further than the twenty-minute walk between your village and mine.” His fingers found Jason’s hand in the gap between the two sofa cushions. He squeezed. “But I appreciate the offer. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow then.”
An empty glass of apple and blackcurrant squash was returned, and Jason fled Henry’s office into the darkening halls of The Final Girl’s offices. Henry did not immediately head home. Instead, he lingered, savouring the promise of tomorrow and the memory of yesterday.
#prompts#original: the final girls#ship: henry x jason#had to sneak in the gomens ref considering who I fc henry and jason#couldn't help myself#also these two will kill me#hey look i wrote!
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Wolfgang Van Halen shared some details about the new EVH SA-126 semi-hollow guitar, which he described as a "shredder" semi-hollow.
We've been having bits and pieces of info about the EVH family's latest model revealed so far, as the WVH mastermind has been "crash testing" the ax for some time now. Speaking to Ola Englund in a recent interview, Wolf said that the SA-126, named after Eddie Van Halen's birthday (January 26), came out of the desire to develop a sound of his own. He said (transcribed by Killer Guitar Rigs):
"I'm playing a new guitar that we’re sort of crash-testing with the brand. It's called the SA-126. It's kind of the first semi-hollow. I guess you could call it a performance semi-hollow[-body guitar]...Starting Mammoth [WVH], I thought it was really important for me to have my own sort of tone, my own sort of sound instead of just playing a Wolfgang through 5150s and just kind of calling it a day. So I ended up being attracted to this sort of classic semi-hollows and that sort of warm tone."
According to Wolf, the idea was to combine the traditional aspects of semi-hollow guitars with a "shredder" mindset. He added:
"And the brand does not offer that. Especially since most of the older… I mean, really, the semi-hollows, [they always have] like a really big wide almost like baseball bat neck. And so the instrument didn't really exist. It was fun to merge the worlds of the classic semi-hollows with the performance guitars that the [EVH] brand is known for, and kind of putting them together. And actually, what we're using the neck profile of the Bumblebee [Eddie Van Halen's old custom guitar], the black and yellow. That was like the base. It's definitely been moved around a little bit. But sort of that really thin but wide [neck]. It's a very shredder neck. It's like a shredder hollow-body. It's a fun little marriage of both. It's got a basswood center block. That was dad's choice of tonewood. It’s got a maple top, mahogany sides and back, ebony fretboard. I believe that the neck is maple too."
In fact, Wolf reveals that his current ax isn't the first prototype of the SA-126:
"There's about seven prototypes. We did three early on. And then these new ones that I have on tour with me are sort of the new batch. It's like a new assembly method. So you know, we're just always trying to improve upon what we can do better. But yeah, it's really exciting."
Asked about his level of involvement with the company, Wolf said:
"It's a tough thing. I'm doing everything I can that sort of keep up. Luckily, Matt [Bruck, also known as Eddie Van Halen's tech] has been involved in the brand and involved with my dad and everything he did since my mom was pregnant with me. So, there's no one better to be heading the brand. And you know, dad wanted me there with him. So I'm doing the best I can to kind of help. Dad still had so many fucking ideas. It's like, we have so much kind of cooking, that's really exciting."
Wolf then went on to reveal when we might expect the SA-126 to drop, adding:
"And then we have the SA, which is looking like next year. It will be finally coming out, which is very exciting. But yeah, just kind of doing my best."
#post van halen#mammoth wvh#wolfgang van halen#news#evh gear#2023#EVH SA-126#Ola Englund#YouTube#videos#interviews#Killer Guitar Rigs#matt bruck#ultimate guitar
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GUYYYYSSSS?!?!?!?
@bisexual-horror-fan and I commissioned a pal of mine for the official logo for our podcast A Tour Through Englund! HOW AMAZING IS THIS?!
Please go and support @/bastet.x.cat on Instagram!
Follow us along the way on IG as well!
Instagram.com/ATourThroughEnglund
#tinalbion speaks#bhf#bisexual-horror-fan#a tour through englund#robert englund#robert barton englund#a tour through englund podcast
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Amaranthe’s Elize Ryd: ‘You cannot take music forward if you sound like everyone else’
Amaranthe’s Elize Ryd is unashamed of her band’s metal-goes-Eurovision sound. But behind the bombastic tunes lies personal tragedy
Elize Ryd grew up in the Swedish Bible Belt in Värnamo, a small, picturesque town dotted with churches, two hours from Gothenburg, where heavy music was the devil. “To be a metal fan was… well, people had their opinions,” she says today, chatting animatedly down the phone to Metal Hammer as she recalls her journey from Sweden’s conservative centre, to genre-hopping melodic metallers Amaranthe.
Despite the outrage of their neighbours, the Ryd family worshipped fervently at the altar of the riff. Elize’s father was a hard rock lover who played bass, while her mother was a singer/songwriter who listened to punk. Like most kids, Elize lapped up the pop music and Eurodance she heard on the radio, nurturing the tastes that would go on to inform Amaranthe’s dynamic blend of metal, synth pop and euphoric EDM. But it was her older brother and metaller, Johan Carlzon, vocalist in local doom band Abandon, who ‘schooled’ her in metal and alternative rock.
“The first three years of a baby’s life is where you shape that person to what it will become,” she says. “I think I listened to more metal growing up than other kinds of music.”
When Elize was two years old, Metallica’s tourbus skidded off the road, killing bassist Cliff Burton, just a 20-minute drive from her house. Although she was too young to remember the accident, she can recall the impact it had on Johan, who was a massive Metallica fan. From then onwards, he was determined to impress on her the importance of Cliff and the music he had stood for, buying Elize her first metal album – The Black Album on cassette – followed by albums by Queen, Kiss and Maiden.
“I’m forever grateful that he introduced me to metal,” Elize says. “I went to his concerts when I was seven or eight years old, sitting on my mother’s shoulders.”
Surrounded by music throughout her childhood, Elize quickly set her sights on becoming a singer. In 2004, she enrolled on a three-year course at Gothenburg’s Performing Arts School and began laying down guest vocals for local power metallers Falconer and Dreamland. But two years later, things really kicked up a notch when she met Amaranthe’s Olof Mörck, then the guitarist in power metal band Dragonland, in a nightclub.
“He knew my brother, everyone knew my brother,” she says. “He was a local celebrity because he was so great at growling. I think he was impressed I was the little sister of this extreme metal growler.”
Olof was just as impressed with Elize’s powerful voice, though. And when he heard Nightwish were seeking a new singer to replace Tarja Turunen, who had been fired from the band in 2005, he secretly sent over the tapes of Elize’s Dragonland and Falconer guest vocals.
“It was the one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me,” laughs Elize. “I was very shy, I would never have sent in my audition tape. He said, ‘Let’s try and see what happens, and if they don’t like it, we start our own band.” Much to her shock though, the symphonic giants were interested, and responded, asking her to record demo vocals for two tracks, Nemo and I Wish I Had An Angel.
The gig eventually went to Anette Olzon, who fronted Nightwish from 2007-2012, but although Elize was disappointed, she was far from disheartened by the decision. “That lit up a fire inside of me,” she says. “I didn’t sing opera and thought, ‘Maybe I’m not the best for them’, but when they announced Annette as the singer, I got it. They didn’t want an opera singer. They were interested in my voice; that meant my voice might not be so wrong for this.”
Energised, she and Olaf started recording the material that would go on to be Amaranthe’s 2009 EP, Leave Everything Behind, but as they were finishing the songs, Elize was dealt a devastating blow; her brother had passed away after an overdose. He was just 32 years old. “It was unconsciously based around making my brother proud,” Elize says of her decision to pursue a career in metal. “I wanted to carry on the legacy of him. I [felt I] was staying in contact with him through the music.”
Elize and Olof initially posted the early Amaranthe songs to MySpace, attracting the attention of their first record label, Spinefarm, who signed them in 2010 and released their first five albums. The tracks also grabbed the lugs of power metallers Kamelot, who invited Elize to join them on their 2012 US tour as a backing vocalist – supporting Nightwish. “It was a surreal situation,” she says. “I didn’t dare remind them of the audition so I don’t know if they remembered.”
On the evening of September 28 2012, as the tour rolled into Denver, Anette was taken ill and rushed to hospital just a few hours before showtime. With the Ogden Theatre packed with 1,600 expectant fans, Nightwish asked Elize if she would fill in on vocals. “I remembered the songs I recorded for my audition tape, but I wasn’t so sure about the other ones,” she remembers, revealing she was so nervous she asked Alissa White-Gluz, now current Arch Enemy singer, who was also on the tour providing backing vocals for Kamelot, to join her. The singers had just 55 frantic minutes to learn the setlist, and took to the stage with the lyrics written on sheets of paper. “We were thinking the audience would be very disappointed, but they wanted so bad to hear the band play,” she says. “The mood was amazing.”
Since then, although Elize is still most comfortable as part of an ensemble – she’s one third of a vocal trio in Amaranthe, alongside growler Henrik Englund Wilhelmsson and new recruit, Nils Molin – she’s grown in confidence. “We have a superhero theme with the new album [Amaranthe’s sixth album, Manifest] and this is exactly what it means,” she says. “You overcome your fears, you do things you never think you would do, or be able to do.”
Sonically too, Manifest is the band’s most assured effort yet, taking their vivid, yet undoubtedly divisive, pop metal to the next level and turning their gigantic hooks and sparkling choruses up to skyscraper levels. And while the purists can sneer, Elize insists the band are bringing something new to the table.
“I haven’t heard anyone say it’s cheesy,” she argues when we ask how fans have reacted to the overblown nature of their music. “We want to give people an endorphin kick. You cannot take music forward if you try and sound the same as everyone else.”
Over half a decade of slow burn experimentation, Amaranthe have arrived at a sound that would fit as much competing at Eurovision as it would on the Download Fest line-up. This is perhaps unsurprising, given both Elize and Nils have competed in the competition – Elize in 2015, with opera singer Rickard Söderberg, and Nils in 2011, with his band Dynazty. Neither made the live finals, but Elize agrees it’s something Amaranthe would definitely be open to in the future. “People have opinions, [like] you shouldn’t sell yourself to ‘corporate things’, but we are giving people a gift,” she enthuses. “If we did Eurovision, we would give people something great they didn’t even know existed.”
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A Nightmare (Tommy x Nikki)
Title: A Nightmare
Summary: Tommy and Nikki went to see A Nightmare on Elm Street. TOmmy might have a little problem with scary movies.
Warnings: Brief language. Mainly fluff
“It’s supposed to be so cool!” Tommy said. “Like, it’s supposed to be really scary and shit!”
“Why do you want to go then?” Nikki asked. “You hate scary movies.”
“Do not.” Tommy shook his head.
“Really? Then why did you cover your eyes when we watched the Exorcist last Halloween?” Nikki asked with a smirk.
“I told you man, I have allergies!” Tommy told him. “Come on, we gotta go see it! Athena saw it and she said it’s awesome!”
“Okay, okay. We’ll go see the stupid movie.” Nikki laughed. “We’re on tour though, and I don’t know where movie theaters are around here.” They had a nice little weekend in town, and were just relaxing by the pool and taking a break from the tour for a moment.
“Isn’t this where Mick’s originally from? Maybe he can point us in the right direction.” Tommy suggested.
“Dude, Mick was born in like the 1800’s. I don’t think they had movie theaters back then.” Nikki laughed. “Come on, we’ll go ask the desk where the closest theater is and see if they’re showing your damn movie.”
“Yes!” Tommy called out. “Let’s go!”
****
“The poster is freaky looking,” Nikki said as they waited in line for their tickets. He was looking at the picture of Heather Langenkamp laying in bed, with a hand above her head with sharp claws. “We should hire them to make flyers for the band!”
“They already think we’re satan worshippers.” Tommy laughed.
“Well, aren’t we?” Nikki smiled at Tommy. They finally got their tickets, and Tommy loaded them down with concessions before they took their seats in the back and got ready for the movie.
****
“So, was it as cool as you thought it was going to be?” Nikki asked as they left the theater.
“That Freddy Krueger is one freaky man,” Tommy told him. “It was intense. Especially when her boyfriend got ate by the bed! Or when the girl rode up the wall and all that blood.”
“Okay, okay. I watched the movie too,” Nikki teased. “Come on man, I’m exhausted. Let’s get back to the hotel and get to bed.” Tommy nodded and the two of them headed back to the hotel for the night.
****
Tommy laid in bed. He just couldn’t sleep. He knew it was childish, but every time he closed his eyes, he had a dream starring Freddy Krueger. He knew that he wasn’t real, and he should’ve gotten over this fear of scary movies a long time ago, but he just couldn’t. He tried to close his eyes again to rest, but every little noise made him jump.
“Fuck,” Tommy groaned, running a hand down his face. He was in his 20’s, playing in one of the most popular bands in the world. He wore all black and used pentagrams and blood in the sets. How the hell was he scared of Robert Englund in prosthetics?
There was loud noise from the next room over, which he knew wasn’t Nikki’s room. He jumped up then and wrapped himself up in his robe before making his way out into the hallway. He looked around and saw nothing, because it was all in his head. Taking a deep breath, Tommy knocked on Nikki’s door.
“What?” Nikki grumbled through the door. He had just gotten into bed to relax after taking a shower and watching some late night TV. Tommy quietly opened the door and made his way in. “T-bone? You okay?”
“I, uh, my room’s hot. Yours feels nice. Can I stay in here for the night?” Tommy lied. Nikki narrowed his eyes.
“You’re scared because of the movie, aren’t you?” Nikki asked.
“What? No…” Tommy looked down.
“Tommy…” Nikki sighed and moved over in bed, patting the spot by him. “Come on.”
“Thanks man.” Tommy crawled into Nikki’s bed.
“Don’t mention it,” Nikki yawned. “I know how it is when...you’re room is too hot.” He smiled a little. “But to avoid it in the future, no more scary movies, okay?”
“Until the next Nightmare on Elm Street comes out, right?” Tommy asked with a bit of a laugh before Nikki hit him with a pillow. Eventually, they did fall asleep, Tommy being near Nikki helped keep the nightmares at bay.
At some point during the night, Nikki wrapped his arm around Tommy, allowing the drummer to cuddle into his side and lay his head on the bassist’s chest. Nikki had woken up first and was a little confused at first, but just smiled when he realized what was going on. He fell back asleep, holding Tommy closed.
And the next time they went to see a movie, Nikki suggested a scary movie, for reasons.
Forever Tags: @anathewierdo @dekahg @marvel-af-imagines @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogarukes @xxwarhawk @sandlee44 @shatteredabby @caswinchester2000 @supernaturalwincestsblog @lauravic @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @teller258316
Motley Crue Tags: @primal-screamer @waywardprincess666 @twistnet @saint-of-los-angeles @vader-kai @motleyfuckingcruee
#motley crue#tommy lee#nikki sixx#terror twins#tommy lee x nikki sixx#nikki sixx x tommy lee#fanfiction
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Kamelot announce support acts for 2nd leg of “Shadows Over European Tour”
[Kamelot News]
“Ladies and Gentlemen! We are super excited to announce our second leg of the Shadow Theory Tour for Europe! Joining us on this sonic and visual journey will be Sweden’s own Evergrey and symphonic standouts Visions of Atlantis. We are super pumped to get back on stage in Europe and bring the show to some new cities!” – adds Kamelot’s Thomas Youngblood.
This monumental trek begins March 8th in Nijmegen, Netherlands and run through March 23rd, in Prestatyn, UK. A complete list of dates can be found below.
Evergrey’s Tom Englund adds: “We’re happy to announce that we will do some cool dates with our buddies in Kamelot in March! So make sure you join us in the cities we visit as this surely will be nights to remember for all involved!”
“Visions Of Atlantis will join the fleet of the Shadow Empire in 2019 and I am more than thrilled to share the stage with Kamelot again! We had a great time together this year, enjoyed their powerful and flawless shows and felt intense vibes from their passionate crowd! We deeply thank Kamelot for trusting in VOA again and having us be the ones starting the game every night on this tour in March! Evergrey are also bringing their forces and all together we will take you with us, through waves of bliss and pain, a blend of emotions your hearts will not forget!” – states Clementine Delauney from Visions Of Atlantis.
Check out all the dates and ticket links at TOUR section.
from Official Kamelot Website http://bit.ly/2qZTWvt
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The Elementalists: Chapter One - Open Enrollment
Now playing as… someone not quite yourself.
The wind whips across your face as you race through barren trees, trying to put some distance between you and the creature chasing you!
Shadow Monster: RAAAAAGHHHHHHHH!!
The force of the monster’s roar shakes the ground beneath your feet! You trip at the edge of a pool of black water, catching a glimpse of your scratched and muddy face in the process…
You: Come on, get up. Keep moving!
You dig your fingers into the black soil, pushing yourself toward the mirror you’ve been desperately seeking…
You: Just… a little… further!
When suddenly the beast crashes through the trees just behind you! You roll onto your back as the creature thunders toward your prone body! Out of options, you throw your hands up, and a searing energy pulses through your fingertips!
You: Yueguang Trabem!
(NOW PLAYING AS HELL)
You bolt upright in your bed, clutching your chest.
Hell: That… that felt so real!
Your phone buzzes aggressively on the nightstand, and you look over to see that it’s almost ten. Your alarm has been going off for almost two hours.
Hell: Crap! I’m gonna be late for that meeting with my advisor!
You scramble out of bed and dash to your closet to throw something on… Once you’re dressed, you bolt out the door… Not noticing someone watching you from inside the mirror. You run into your advisor’s office without a moment to spare and drop into the chair across from her desk.
Hell: Sorry! I overslept.
Ms. Robertson: You’re not late, so that’s quite alright, Ms…
She rifles through some papers on her desk.
Hell: Just Hell is fine.
Ms. Robertson: Hell, right. Forgive me. I’m used to dealing with more… troubled students.
She finds the right file and slides behind her desk. As she scans the pages, she frowns.
Ms. Robertson: By all accounts, you’re a perfect student. It’s only a couple of weeks into the quarter, but your grades and attendance are excellent. So I’ve got to ask, Hell. Why are you here?
Hell: It’s hard to describe. I know I should be happy. But I’m just… not. I try so hard, but no matter what I do, it all just feels like… like I’m sitting in a waiting room or something. And no one ever calls my name.
Ms. Robertson: And… what is it exactly that you’re waiting for?
Hell: I guess I’m looking for a life of adventure!
Ms. Robertson: What?
Hell: A life exploring new worlds, collecting ancient artifacts glowing with mysterious powers… That’s not too much to ask, is it?
Ms. Robertson: Those are certainly some original aspirations. But I can’t help you live in a fantasy world, Hell.
Hell: Yeah, I know. I’m only joking. I just wish I knew what I was looking for. Whatever it is… it’s not this.
Ms. Robertson: I know you’re at a crossroads right now. And one of the directions you could go would mean dropping out of Hartfeld.
Hell: It crossed my mind…
Ms. Robertson: Please don’t do it. When this phase you’re in ends, you don’t want to discover that you’ve given up your chance to get a degree, do you?
Hell: But… but what if you’re wrong? What if it’s not a phase?
Ms. Robertson: I tell you what. WHy don’t you go home and think about it? Will you do that for me?
Hell: Sure. I… I guess I can do that.
Later, you stand in the bathroom of your suite and look at yourself squarely in the mirror in front of you.
Hell: I know you belong somewhere. I know there’s more to you than this.
Suddenly, the lights in the room flicker!
Hell: What the hell…?
Something catches your attention out of the corner of your eye… A glint in the bathroom mirror.
Hell: Huh? Why do I look like this? What the hell! That’s… That looks like my face, but…
You raise a hand to your face, but when your reflection doesn’t move, you freeze. The mirror itself looks a little odd… Almost shimmery.
Hell: Am I… Am I dreaming again?
You reach a shaky hand toward the mirror, and when your fingers touch the surface, they press into the glass!
Hell: Whoa!
You try to pull back, but your hand won’t come free! Your palm starts to sink into the glass, then your forearm, and before you know it…
Hell: Wait, wait, wa--
Your whole body is sucked through! Rushing water yanks you forward, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut against the current! Just as you feel your lungs starting to strain, a splash comes from your right! You feel a pair of strong, sturdy arms wrap around your middle and pull you to the water’s surface! You feel yourself being dragged onto dry land and sputter as you wipe the water from your eyes. You try to get your bearings, taking a moment to gape at your surroundings…
Hell: Wh-Where…
In front of you is a picturesque collection of cozy looking buildings with steepled roofs, a manicured lawn, and an ostentatious statue out front. But as you gawk, the carved marble figure keeps moving around, and overhead, people fly around on a variety of objects including an ottoman, a broom, and an ornamental rug!
Hell: This is… This isn’t real. Right? Where…
???: Hey, hey! You’re okay, I got you. You’re a new student here, right?
Hell: … I am a student.
???: Great! You missed the Hall of Mirrors by a mile, but you made it. Welcome to Penderghast College of Elemental Magicks. Since it’s the first day of the new semester, we should probably get you to the dining hall for orientation. If you’re feeling okay, that is.
As you turn to try and get your bearings, you see a tall, haughty guy eyeing you disdainfully from nearby.
???2: I suppose I should have listened to my dad when he said the admissions standards are in decline here. Didn’t you read the information packet? There are arrival protocols, you know.
???: Who are you? Campus police? Why don’t you take her up to orientation then and make yourself useful?
Beckett: Absolutely not. I’m Beckett Harrington. I don’t have time to show the other freshmen around campus.
His lip curls into a sneer as he says this. He gives you one last withering look, before he turns and stalks away.
Griffin: I guess it’s just you and me, then. I’m Griffin.
He smiles at you warmly and offers his hand. You shake it, your fingers trembling from the shock and the water cooling on your skin.
Hell: I’m… Hell. And also… I’m very confused.
Griffin: Here, Hell, let me help you.
You feel a change in the air around him as he brings his clasped fists up to his mouth and blows through them. Suddenly…
Hell: Hey! I’m completely dry!
Griffin: There you, good as new. You might still want to change at some point though, it tends to get chilly in the evenings.
Griffin turns the air current on himself, shaking water off of his shoes as he dries them.
Griffin: Sorry if the work was a little shoddy. Air magick isn’t the most natural to us Earth-Atts, but Professor Englund says I’m getting it. Come on. I’ll take you up to the school for orientation!
He turns and starts to walk toward the front of the school and you stumble after him.
Hell: OKay, wait. So you’re saying magick is real? Like really, really real. For real.
Griffin: Either that, or we’re all trapped in the same fever dream.
You pass the large statue in the center of campus, and it swivels its head to look at you!
Griffin: Oh, that’s just the security system, set to vaporize any Attuneless intruders. But there hasn’t been one on campus in… well, I don’t even know.
Hell: (Oh god, I would really love to not be vaporized…)
You keep an eye on the statue, but soon it looks away. You let out a relieved sigh. When you turn back, you’ve reached the massive double doors at the front of the school.
Griffin: Welcome to Penderghast! If you follow me this way, I’ll show you to the…
Griffin starts toward the staircase, but the loud chiming of a bell stops him. He looks at his watch with a start.
Griffin: Oh, crap. I totally forgot about this Thief team meeting I’m supposed to go to.
Hell: Wait! You can’t leave me…
Griffin: Of course not! I’ll drop you off at the dining hall. We’re just gonna have to speed this tour up is all.
You follow him up the stairs, which lead into an adjoining hallway.
Griffin: The dining hall is just at the end of this hall and to the left. This is the school’s main building, so there’s a ton of offices and stuff in here. Reception, the dean’s office, classroom… Some of the Attunement placement exams are held here, too.
Hell: ‘Attunement placement’?
Griffin: I think it’s kind of silly, too. I knew Earth was my thing when I caused a tiny earthquake throwing a tantrum over dessert when I was five.
Hell: Right. Totally.
As you pass one of the doors off the hall, you hear a small commotion coming from inside.
Voice: Oh, hell!
Hell: Uh, Griffin? What’s this room?
Griffin: That’s the Hall of Mirrors! Where you were supposed to come through.
The first thing you see when you open the door is beautiful girl with long, dark hair, trying desperately to pull her foot out of a floor length mirror.
???: Oh thank goodness! Some assistance, s’il vous plait?
You and Griffin rush over, each take one of her hands, and tug until she comes free. She stumbles right into your arms and blows her bangs out of her face with a smile.
Shreya: Oops. Shreya Mistry, in your arms and at your service. Good catch, by the way!
Hell: Thanks… How’d you get stuck?
Shreya straightens up and smooths out her hair.
Shreya: I always have trouble with these silly mirrors if we’re being honest. I much prefer air travel. But at least I made it. I was about five minutes away from starting my freshman year a month late.
Hell: Why a month?
Shreya: That’s when the first Visitor’s Day is. When the wards reopen, of course. Guess Penderghast is stuck with me now!
Griffin: Well, welcome. I’m Griffin, this is Hell. She’s a freshman, too. I was just showing her to the dining hall if you want to come with.
Shreya: No need, I know just where it is. I’m a legacy student.
She struts out of the Hall of Mirrors. A short while later, Griffin stops in front of a pair of ornate doors.
Griffin: Well, that ends the Griffin tour! Sorry it was kind of rushed. I’ve gotta go, but good luck with the rest of orientation!
Hell: Actually, if you could just--
He’s already bounding away down the hall. You turn toward the giant double doors and steel yourself before you push them open. As you slip into the hall, you’re momentarily overwhelmed by the high ceilings, stained glass windows, and the countless dining tables. A handful of heads swivel in your direction, though the dean continues to drone on up front.
???: Hey! Over here!
A guy with a megawatt smile waves you over to a nearby table, and you hurriedly slide into the seat next to him.
Zeph: Hey, you’re late! I’m Zephyr. You can call me Zeph if you want.
Hell: I’m Hell. No cool nickname, just Hell.
Zeph: So, Hell, what’s your Attunement?
Hell: I, uh, am waiting until tomorrow to find out for sure. Don’t want to jinx it?
He opens his mouth to respond, but is cut off by the dean loudly clearing her throat.
Dean Goeffe: In conclusion, I’d like to remind you all that this is an institution of higher learning, not a playground for children. Put in the work or go home.
Around you, students start to rise to their feet and shuffle toward the doors. The dean walks briskly off-stage.
Zeph: She’s just full to the brim with the warm fuzzies, isn’t she?
Hell: Wait, it’s over? I missed the whole thing!
Zeph: Don’t worry, Dean Goeffe’s speeches are notoriously dry. Besides, I’m an expert in listening and speaking at the same time. The gist is, the freshmen will line up at 7AM in the foyer tomorrow to get assigned one of the staff as their examiner for placement tests.
He points up at the stage, where a hairy, kind-faced man with horns is seated behind a table with a few other teachers. As he stands up, you see that the bottom half of his torso ends in thick, furry haunches and hooves!
Hell: Holy crap! He’s a satyr?
Zeph: Yup! You don’t see many of them around these parts.
Zeph stands up as well, and you follow him to join the queue of students exiting the hall.
Zeph: Classes will start after all the freshmen have been placed, and your schedule will be given to you then as well.
Hell: So… what do we do now?
Zeph: Basically, the rest of the day is free. My roommate and I have a fun evening of bonding and laying out the house rules ahead of us.
You follow the crowd of freshmen out onto the grounds and immediately lose track of Zeph.
Hell: Uh… now what?
Voice: Hey, Hell!
You turn toward the voice and see Griffin coming toward you from the direction of the bridge.
Griffin: You survived the orientation! How was it? As boring as last year’s?
Hell: No, it was really interesting actually. Well, not the actual speech, I missed most of that. But I saw a… a satyr, I think, and I’m pretty sure I made a new friend. It’s all so much considering where I was this morning!
In the whirlwind of the day you had briefly forgotten about your situation, but it all comes flooding back…
Hell: (I can’t believe how far away from home I am… I felt out of place at Hartfeld, but now…)
Griffin: Are you okay?
You realise that your eyes have begun to fill up with tears. You swipe them away, forcing a laugh.
Hell: Just, uh, first day jitters, I guess. It’s all a bit… overwhelming.
He puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile.
Griffin: Hey, it’s going to be okay. If it makes you feel any better, you’re really bright.
Hell: Uh, I think my third grade teacher told me that once?
Griffin: No, I mean like inside. I can feel your energy through the ground. I felt it as soon as you stepped onto campus, actually.
Hell: Really? What did I feel like?
Griffin: Hmmm. It felt like taking your first sip of a hot drink that’s just cooled down. The kinda warm you get all over your body, you know?
Hell: Is this your way of flirting? I bet you call all the girls hot drinks.
Griffin: Only the ones that warm me from the inside out.
You feel your cheeks start to heat as you struggle to find something to say. He laughs again, unfazed.
Griffin: It gets better, you know. My first day here was awful! I didn’t really know anyone at first, but I figured that thanks to my Thief scholarship, I’d at least have my teammates. And then, next thing I know, I’m running naked across the lawn chasing the clothes my captain magicked to life while I was in the showers.
Hell: No!
Griffin: My point is, that day sucked, but there isn’t a single moment since then that I regret coming here. Especially not now.
Hell: Yeah… Maybe it’s not the worst thing that this is where I ended up.
Griffin: One thing I’ve learned in my time here is that if something happens to you, good or bad, it happened for a reason. I think you’re meant to be here.
He pauses thoughtfully, a sly grin spreading across his face.
Griffin: I’ve got an idea. I could really use your help with something, if you’re up for it. If anything, it might make for a good distraction.
Hell: Yeah? And what could you possibly need my help for?
Griffin: There’s this thing I lost last year. I must have missed it while I was packing up my dorm room, but I’m pretty sure I know where it is now. Still, it’s gonna be hard to spot and an extra set of eyes would be fantastic. Do you wanna help me try and find it?
Hell: You can count on me! You were the first friendly face I met here. The least I could do is lend you a hand with this.
Griffin: Awesome! I have a feeling you’re going to like this…
You follow Griffin through campus and down a hallway very similar to the one from earlier. He leads you past several doors, and right into a dead end.
Hell: Uh, if this is where your lost item is, it shouldn’t be too hard to find, considering there’s… nothing here.
Griffin: Hang on a second…
Griffin presses his palms together, then begins moving his hands back and forth in front of the wall, as if wiping steam from a mirror. With each move, the wall seems to melt away, revealing a door behind it.
Hell: Whoa… How did you do that? There was a wall, and now…
Griffin: Invisibility wards are pretty basic. The key is knowing where to look. Now, watching this.
Griffin clenches his hands into fists. Then, he presses his knuckles together and takes a deep breath.
Griffin: Here we go.
He exhales and places two fingers against the doorknob. After hearing a satisfying click, he opens the door.
Hell: Wait, did you just magickally unlock the door?
Griffin: Yeah. That spell’s a little more challenging. Metal’s usually tough to work with, but it’s close to Earth, so I do alright.
You shake your head in disbelief as Griffin leads you inside. The room is packed full of objects. Boxes overflow with colorful knick-knacks, and shelves bend under the weight of an assortment of curios. To your left, a stuffed raven caws loudly. There’s a thin aisle that winds through, giving you just enough space to walk. Griffin starts to rifle through the shelves.
Hell: Wow…
Your eyes flick about, unable to take everything in. You spot a candle glowing with a bright purple flame, and a large, spiky ball of metal hovering in mid-air.
Griffin: The thing we’re looking for is a silver ball, about the size of my fist, with an onyx button at the top.
Hell: I see why you needed the help…
A bell rings, and after looking around, you spot it in the hand of an eerie doll. It smiles down at you from a high shelf, and rings the bell again.
Hell: Wow. I hate that. What is this place?
Griffin: It’s a lost and found of sorts. Anything students forget on campus ends up in here. I think the professors put confiscated items in here too, hence the wards.
As you walk further into the room, you catch sight of a jar full of shiny jagged ovals, shimmering in the overhead light.
Hell: These are beautiful!
Griffin: Dragon scales. I wonder what they’re doing down here… That’s a lot of money gone to waste.
Voice: Findertook!
You stiffen at the sound and slowly turn, expecting to see someone behind you.
Griffin: Oh, ignore that thing. It’s just going to spew nonsense at you.
Your eyes fall on a pendant, with a woman’s face in profile carved into an alabaster shell.
Hell: Why’s this here?
The woman’s mouth suddenly moves!
Pendent: Thibity!
Hell: What language is that?
Griffin: Honestly, I don’t have a clue. I’m guessing it was some kind of prank gift.
Griffin sifts through some boxes behind you while you scan the rest of the room. You laugh as you catch sight of a unicycle propped up in the corner.
Hell: You’re not telling me magickal unicycles are a thing, are you?
Griffin: Last year some kid thought it’d be fun to enchant it to fly. The professors confiscated it after he fell off of it about three stories up. Turns out unicycles don’t like to be enchanted.
You wander over to an open box full of unusual objects and start picking through it. As you pick up a scarab, the jewels shift colors, cycling from soft purples to bright oranges and everything in between.
Hell: This is beautiful. What’s it for?
Griffin joins you, peering over your shoulder.
Griffin: Oh, I bet the professors used that for Attunement placement. Fire-Atts usually have a connection with scarabs, since they’re a symbol of Ra, the Egyptian sun god.
Hell: I guess that makes sense…
You turn the scarab over in your hand, and it feels surprisingly warm. You walk a little further down the aisle, squinting at the shelves. A metallic glint catches your eye, and you pick up a silver ball.
Hell: Hey, Griffin! I found your… thing!
Griffin: What? Nice! I knew inviting you along was a smart move.
Your thumb slides over the diamond-shaped piece of onyx at the top, and, with a click, several panels pop out on all sides.
Hell: Whoa…
You look up at the ceiling. The lights in the room have dimmed, and all around the room, sprinkled across the clutter, are…
Hell: Stars.
Griffin: It’s a star-tracker. It maps the rotation of the stars! They’re a tool for Astroweavers mostly, but I found this one here a while ago.
Hell: Astroweavers?
Griffin’s voice comes from behind you, suddenly very close.
Griffin: They maintain constellations, mostly. A lot of Air-Atts go into that field after graduation.
Hell: Is that what you want to do after school?
Griffin: Nah, Earth-Atts are a little more… grounded than that. I’m thinking of majoring in natural preservation sciences. I just like having a star tracker. It makes me feel bigger than myself, being able to see the stars so close and in real time like this. What do you think? Worth finding?
Hell: Yeah… This place is amazing. Seriously, it’s pretty incredible. Thanks for inviting me along.
Griffin: No, thank you. I’m so bad at finding stuff. I never would have gotten this back without your help.
Your glance up at him as the stars around you twinkle and shift. He sees you looking and gives you a teasing grin that makes your face heat up. He reaches out and places his hand over yours, covering the tracker. The panels fold in, and the stars disappear.
Griffin: We should get out of here. I don’t like to leave the ward on the door down for too long.
Hell: Sure. Could you show me to the dorm? This campus is huge, and if I tried to find it myself, I’d probably end up sleeping on the front lawn.
Griffin chuckles as he leads you out of the lost and found.
Outside, you follow him to a building on the other side of a campus. A plaque on the building’s door reads, ‘Fletchly Residence Halls.’
Griffin: Here you go. Once you get inside someone’ll help you find your room, I’m sure of it. Hey, and thanks again, Hell. I appreciate you helping me find my star tracker.
Hell: Don’t worry about it! You’ve helped me out so much today, I had to return the favor.
Griffin: See you around?
He gives you a nod before walking away. You steel yourself and push open the door to the dorms…
As soon as you enter the nearly empty dorm lobby, an upperclassman with a clipboard waves you over.
R.A: Welcome to Penderghast! How can I assist you? Need help finding your room?
Hell: Uh…
The RA cocks her head to the side.
RA: You can just tell me your last name, and I’ll point you in the right direction.
You give her your last name, and your stomach rails as her eyes skim the clipboard.
RA: Wait a minute.
She glances at you, then back at the page…
Hell: Okay, I have to confess. I’m not actually a--
Then she flips the page over.
RA: Here we go! Hell Raiser, first floor, room 108. Your roomie has been checked in since this morning!
You hurry away down the hall, simultaneously relieved and even more confused than you were before.
Hell: (If this is all some mistake, how was my name on the list?)
Behind the doors down the hall you can hear music, people laughing, and even… an occasional roar? Finally, you find number 108. You see that there’s no doorknob.
Hell: Come on, does this place come with an instruction manual?
You put your hand out and lean against the door, taking a moment to center yourself… And your hand slips right through!
Hell: Ackk!
You feel a chill go through you as you fall through a transparent blue wall and onto the floor. As soon as you’re in, the door reforms.
Shreya: It’s you again! Well, aren’t I the lucky girl?
Hell: Oh, right, from earlier! I kind of… lost you in the dining hall.
Shreya: Yes, sorry about that. I had friends waiting, and, well, you know how that goes. I’m so pleased! I’ll be a perfect roommate. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but I assure you it’s only partially true.
When she pauses for air, or maybe dramatic effect, you take a good look at your surroundings.
Shreya: Glad to see my roommate isn’t completely devoid of style, though you could still use a few pointers. Luckily, you have me to help you! Well? Say something.
Hell: I think you should relax. Please. Today has been, for the lack of a better word, insane. So I could really just use a second.
You plop down on the nearby couch, sinking into the soft cushions. Shreya perches herself on the chair across from you silently, though she leans toward you.
Shreya: So…
You sigh.
Hell: You said before that whatever I’ve heard about you is only ‘partially true.’
Shreya rolls her eyes.
Shreya: I know you’re thinking about me and Fifi’s tiff at Mistry Inc.’s annual charity fashion show.
Hell: Fifi? Mistry Inc. charity show?
Shreya: You know, the one with the lava rock runway? It was all over the news a month ago, not to brag.
Hell: I get the feeling that if I tell you that I have no idea who you are, it’s gonna be a whole thing.
Shreya is absolutely still for a moment, before she finally smiles, though it looks almost painful.
Shreya: Not. At. All. My family is only the number one purveyor of enchanted objects worldwide, but why would you know that? Besides… This was the whole point! To come to college, have new experiences, fly under the radar. Become the person I want to be, you know?
Hell: I know exactly how you feel. Honestly, that’s the same thing I was hoping to get out of the college experience. Do you ever feel like no matter how hard you try, nothing fits? Like the things that you think are going to make you happy never do?
Shreya: Absolutely. It’s how I felt all the time. Until I arrived here, that is.
Hell: This morning I was at this college I used to think was finally going to be my place in the world, but it very quickly became clear that it wasn’t. And then I got here and, yeah, it’s a little weird and a little hard to believe, but for the first time… Something finally feels right. And now it’s… all going to be taken away.
Shreya: Take away? I don’t understand. Why would--
Your voice trembles as you finally tell her the truth, revealing the secret you’ve been keeping in since you’re arrival.
Hell: I can’t do magick!
Shreya: What?
You lower your voice to barely more than a whisper.
Hell: I was in my dorm bathroom at Hartfeld, and there was something weird in the mirror, and when I touched it I just…
You throw your hands up, unable to explain, not even knowing what happened yourself.
Hell: And I don’t know what to do now. I’m afraid of what will happen if I tell someone, but I know I can’t leave.
You watch Shreya guiltily as she stares at you wide-eyed.
Hell: You’re… You’re not going to, like, erase my memory, or melt my brain, or--
Shreya: I’ll help you.
Hell: You will? Why would you do that? I don’t mean to sound suspicious, but you barely know me. Why would you stick your neck out for me?
Shreya: Because it sounds like fun. Part of the reason I came to college was to meet all different kinds of people! And you, Hell, are quite an interesting kind of person. But have you considered that there may be magick in you? Have you tried any?
Hell: Well… there was that thing with the door?
Shreya: No, no, the doors are enchanted to accept the tenant’s genetic code. That wouldn’t count.
Shreya taps her fingers on the coffee table, her eyes roving the room. When they stop, she grins and hops out of the chair.
Shreya: I’ve got it! Come on, let’s go before the shop closes.
Hell: Wait, wait. Where are we going? I thought we couldn’t leave campus!
You follow Shreya across the room and find yourself facing a door with a variety of doorknobs in different shapes and sizes screwed into it.
Shreya: There are a few pre-selected places we’re allowed to go. Like Penn Square, for example.
You notice that each knob has a neatly inscribed label above it.
Hell: ‘Hell’s room’, ‘Shreya’s room.’ ‘Penn Square’... Wait. Are you saying my room is in there?
Shreya: Sure. So is mine, and Penn Square, and the lake. That one opens up in a tree, though. It can be quite unpleasant if you run into a Berkspire.
Shreya examines the labels carefully, until finally she finds the knob labeled ‘Penn Square.’ She turns it and pushes the door open.
Hell: Whoa.
Shreya: Charming, right?
In the afternoon sun, the square is bustling with activity. You see a stately woman with deep blue skin and tusks dragging a kicking toddler with impish horns past a magickal toy store… Beyond that, a pair of men with pointed elfish ears and webbed hands debate over a beaded bracelet at a stall marked ‘Charms.’
Hell: Is that a troll?
The seven-foot-tall woman’s head whips around in your direction. Shreya grabs your arm and starts leading you away hurriedly.
Shreya: God, I foget how backwards the non-magickal worldview is. They prefer ‘mountain folk’ these days. Come on, no time to waste! We need to get you something to help with that whole ‘no magick’ thing.
Hell: And how, exactly, are we supposed to fix that?
She stops abruptly in front of a shop labelled ‘Maison D’Yew.’ The sign in the window describes it as ‘Your one stop shop for one stop shopping.’
Shreya: Let’s get inside and see if they have what we’re looking for.
Inside, every square inch of the shop is packed with clothes, knick-knacks, and all manner of glowing, spinning and rattling mystical objects.
Hell: How are we even supposed to find anything in here?
Voice: That’s where I come in! Oh, um, just a second, please.
A rustling from the pile of lamps on your left makes you jump. A mountain of rusted candelabras avalanches off a high shelf, heading straight toward you!
Hell: AHH!
You duck, bracing for impact! But it never comes.
???: Sorry about that! I was organizing some of the floghart’s droppings we store under this armoire.
You take a hesitant peek up and see that the candelabras have been stopped in mid-air and are hovering just over your head! The girl in front of you flicks a vine-wrapped hand and the candelabras re-stack themselves on the shelf.
???: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.
You stare at her, wide-eyed, and she gives you a knowing smile.
Aster: First time meeting a wood nymph? I’m Aster. I run this shop.
She holds out her hand, and you shake it, you’re shocked at how her skin feels both like polished wood and flesh all at once.
Hell: I’m Hell. I like your shop.
Aster: Thanks! It’s my father’s actually. Well, my grandfather’s. I guess it was his father’s before that. What does ownership really mean, anyway? If I feel the most strongly about something, does it then become mine?
She pauses thoughtfully, looking off into the distance as her eyes grow dark and clouded. After a while, it seems obvious that she’s checked out completely.
Aster: Interesting…
Aster’s eyes lighten and refocus on Shreya as she shakes her head clear.
Aster: Oh! It’s you again! I was hoping you’d be back.
Shreya: I’d assume so. I spent a minor fortune the last time I was here. Listen, love, do you have any marbles? My friend here is worried about the first day of classes and wants a boost.
Hell: Yeah. Anything would help.
Aster looks at you, her eyes shining brightly.
Aster: So you’re a Penderghast student too? You both are so lucky!
She skips off toward the counter and disappears behind it.
Aster: I’ve been begging Papa to let me go, but he’s still bitter about all that wand business.
Aster pops up from behind the counter, coughing and covered in dust. She slams a polished wooden box down on the counter, with ‘Mistry Miracle Marbles’ written in gold curlicue handwriting on the lid. You give Shreya a look before gingerly lifting the edges of the box, revealing four multi-colored orbs within.
Hell: What are they?
Shreya plucks a clear orb from the box. Opaque, white smoke begins to curl inside the glass.
Shreya: One of Mistry Inc.’s bestsellers. Each of these orbs contains enough magick to perform one spell per element. They may be small, but they pack quite a punch. Like one very beautiful, very down-to-earth heiress we all know an love.
With a smile, she places the white orb into your palm, folding your fingers over it.
Shreya: And this little guy is all yours.
Hell: But… why would magick people need something like this?
Shreya: You can use it instantly instead of taking time to build a spell, and it won’t use up any of your own magick so you can cast again immediately!
Aster: They’re the very best on the market! Of course, they’ll only work for the elements with which they correspond.
You look a little closer at the contents of the box, and see a variety of colors in the tendrils of smoke. Blue, green, red…
Hell: How do you even use it?
Shreya: Ah. Aster, do you have any singles?
ASter rummages through a drawer before handing Shreya a dusty blue orb.
Aster: It’ll cost you, and I must insist that you go outside to--
Shreya rolls the marble between her thumb and forefinger, raising it up toward the ceiling… And a raincloud appears overhead as the blue smoke dissipates from the marble. It begins to pour!
Shreya: See? Easy.
Aster: You Attuned never listen!
The leaves in Aster’s hair rustle as she glowers at Shreya. She flicks a finger and a strong blast of wind blows the cloud and the rain away, leaving you completely dry.
Shreya: Oh, don’t be such a tenacious toad, Aster. What do you think, Hell? These will surely come in handy.
Hell: I’ll take the lot. These’ll at least help me fly under the radar until I can figure out what to do next!
You hand Aster a few bills from your wallet. She peers at them curiously.
Hell: I hope that’s enough?
Aster: Absolutely not. This money is worthless. Lucky for you, I can fetch a high price for it on the collector’s market!
After saying goodbye to Aster, you and Shreya head back through the portal to your dorm…
Shreya: So, now that you’ve got a bit of magick to take into battle, do you think you’re ready to face tomorrow?
Hell: Honestly, I don’t see how it’ll matter after this Attunement placement thing. Seriously, Shreya, what am I going to do?
She puts a tentative hand on your shoulder.
Shreya: You’re going to get through this because I’m going to help you. And I’m just too fabulous to fail.
You’re unable to hold your laugh in, and soon, Shreya’s laughing too. Over her shoulder, something catches your eye. In the mirror across the room, you see a smudge… or maybe a shadow.
Hell: Shreya, do you see that?
Shreya: Hmm?
You look around, trying to find the source of the reflection as you step closer to the mirror. The shadow pulses, gros, and you tilt your head even closer…
Hell: Wait, that’s…
It’s only then that you realise the shadow is on your side of the glass!
Shreya: Hell!
Shadow Monster: Chhhhhhhhsssss!
The shadowy creature turns a violent shade of red! An opening appears below its two hollow eyes as it lets out an angry hiss… It launches itself at you, sending you reeling!
Hell: Hnnh!
You trip over your own feet, falling backward as the shadow springs!
Shadow Monster: Chhhhkkkkss!
You throw up a hand to protect yourself!
Hell: AHHH!!!
And a bright beam, golden as the sun, shoots from your palm, blasting right through the middle of the creature!
Hell: How…?!
Even though the light has faded, your palm still glows warmly. The shadow creature has been reduced to nothing. You can feel the energy humming inside of you, and instantly you know it’s been there all along. Somewhere under the surface. Somewhere secret.
Hell: What the hell was that?!
Shreya: I don’t know… But it looks like there may be hope for you yet.
Thoughts on the episode…
This is a pretty standard first episode for any series that contains magic, or powers, that the main character didn’t know they had. Or at least, the ending was. MC doesn’t know they have powers, bad guy attacks them, discover they have powers that are incredibly strong and mysterious, etc. etc. Nothing new or revolutionary here.
That being said, I liked it. I like Shreya and Aster, I like Griffin and Zeph and I even like Mr. Snooty McRichie III or whatever his name is (definitely gonna be a love interest and I’ll be damned if I don’t make him my love interest). This has some semblance of a plot, we don’t know exactly where it’ll take us but there are plotlines - How did she end up there? Who knew to enroll her at Penderghast? What is her Attunement? Who is that inside the mirror? A far more exciting first chapter than Across the Void which was an absolute mess.
Fave Character of the Chapter: Griffin
Least Fave Character of the Chapter: Zeph
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A Podcast By Bex and Tina
Do you like horror movies? Both iconic entries into the genre as well as B tier and below? Are you a fan of sitcoms? Documentaries? Procedural cop dramas? Do you like improv and riffing and general chaotic best friend energy? New recommendations of things to watch and jokes that go on way too long? The overall vibe of feeling like you are watching a movie with friends?
Well if you answered yes to any or all then you might get a kick out of this new podcast being made by Bex and Tina.
What do all those things above have in common you might be asking? Easy. The one thing that makes the most sense for Tina and Bex to make a podcast about, why Robert Englund of course!
Come along with Tina and Bex as they take a journey to watch and comment on and discuss every movie, tv, and notable voice acting role of the man himself.
We will be answering such important questions as “How long is Robert Englund actually in this?” “Does he die?” “WHEN does he die?” “Is it worth watching it for anything OTHER than Robert?” “Why does Robert play so many doctors?” “Why is he in so many movies with snakes in them?” and of course “Can this Robert Englund character GET it?”
So please, we invite you to come along as our travel companions as we embark on this journey we have so rightly dubbed “A Tour Through Englund.”
#Boiler Room Bullshit#upcoming podcast for 2021#Robert Englund#A Tour Through Englund#Bex and Tina up to the usual#feral#completely feral#you'll laugh#you'll cry#you'll crawl back for more!
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Interview: Elize Ryd of Amaranthe
Amaranthe vocalist Elize Ryd caught up with Roppongi Rocks over an early morning coffee and talked about the “Helix” world tour, the current state of the band, how happy she’s with the band’s new manager Angela Gossow, possible side projects and what Japan means to the band.
The morning after Amaranthe’s gig at the Download Japan festival, I meet frontwoman Elize Ryd for an early morning coffee. It’s 7:30am but the hotel lobby is full of metal fans who want to get glimpses of Amaranthe and Anthrax members who are staying at the hotel. Elize smiles and greets all her fans and then sits down for a cappuccino and a chat before she will head to the airport with the rest of the band. Following the most recent leg of the “Helix” world tour – a Russian headline tour and a festival gig in Japan – the Swedish band gets a well-deserved two-and-a-half-month break from touring.
The world tour kicked off last autumn in conjunction with the release of the band’s fifth studio album, “Helix”. It’s the first album featuring Nils Molin from Dynazty as one of the band’s three vocalists. The band also features Olof Mörck on guitar and keyboards, bassist Johan Andreassen, drummer Morten Løwe Sørensen and singer Henrik Englund Wilhelmsson. “We started the tour as support for Powerwolf. It’s been going great. This new album really feels like us. It’s nice for Nils to tour an album he’s singing on. Not that it should really matter, but, still, it is a feeling of completeness for the band. Earlier, there was a kind of interim period that was tough for all of us. Now we have emerged from that. We’re having a lot of fun. We’re all feeling much better, all of us.”
Nils initially came in as one of several stand-in vocalists, before becoming a permanent member of the band. They have also had a few other stand-in musicians over the years in order to keep the band rolling. “Yes, that was a bit cumbersome. It feels like we have stabilised ourselves now. It feels like we have proven to ourselves and others that we are synced live. But the foundation of the band, it has always been Olof and me writing music together. If someone can’t make it, then it’s not the end of the world if we have to change that member. I know how sensitive it can be, especially when it comes to a voice. If people realise that we write music and use different instruments – and that a voice is one of those instruments – then it doesn’t have to be the end of the world. We have become more mature and open after this process that we have gone through that was very tough. It felt as if many fans may give up on us and that we would never again get to come back to Japan! We were really worried. We felt really bad. Everything became a bit strange and wasn’t handled properly. Psychologically it wasn’t a great situation. Now the ball’s back in our hands properly, without having to deal with all of that other stuff.”
Full interview in here.
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Since we're sharing stories, here's mine.
I don't recall how I first heard of Phantom, but I do remember wanting the 2004 movie very badly one Christmas. My grandparents sent it to me in the mail, and I remember watching it religiously. Morning, noon, and night. Ironically, it took me months to figure out what the movie was even about; I was so entranced by everything from "The Mirror" to the end of "Music of the Night" that I kept rewinding the movie to watch it all over again! (I actually thought the Phantom was wearing the mask to be stylish and not for any particular reason. Boy, was I wrong when I finally decided to watch it all.)
A good friend at my high school by the name of Zane overheard me talking about the movie and introduced me to the 25th anniversary. (He was a little bit of a snob about it, but without his knowledge, I never would have gotten here! Thank you, Zane.) I watched it on YouTube, at a time it was still up, and I remember weeping for hours after "Final Lair". I was absolutely in love.
I spent years replaying 25th and 2004 until I had the privilege of seeing the North American tour last March in Atlanta. (I wasn't a particular fan of it, however, but that's for another time.) Seeing it put a new spark in my love for all things Phantom, and I vaguely remembered Zane mentioning a couple of novels. The first thing I did was purchase a copy of Leroux's book and read it through in the span of a couple of days. It was around the same time I discovered the lovely Charles Dance on YouTube, and I watched the miniseries pretty much daily for a solid month.
I was so in love with all things Phantom by then I made my little Tumblr account here!
May was the real challenge; I decided to consume every other piece of Phantom media I could possibly get my hands on. I bought Kay and devoured it in three days, and saw the Claude Rains film, the Herbert Lom film, the Robert Englund film, the Lon Chaney silent film, and Phantom of the Paradise. I completed this journey in the span of a week, and I've been hooked ever since.
This show has saved my life in so many ways. 2004 was a comfort for me in a very confusing and upsetting time in my middle school crises. Erik became a huge comfort character for me. (Perhaps not very sound judgement of comfort, but I didn't particularly care.) In time, every Erik I came across sort of became a guardian angel to me in their own right. I don't know what I would have done without his character or his music. Michael Crawford's "Music of the Night" has always had the mysterious power to stop me from crying instantaneously.
Christine Daaé, too, was a big stepping stone in my journey to realizing I was attracted to women as well as men. Watching Sierra Boggess in 25th opened my eyes and made me realize that I loved other women. She inspired me to be a better person, and I'd like to think the show did make me a better person.
My journey continues; my dream to see the American show in its birthplace on Broadway could come true this year! My fingers are crossed, for now.
I'm sorry for adding the wall of text to your post, Jazor, but this show means a lot to me. I hope it can do as much good for other people as it's done in my life.
On this date in 1988, Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical version of The Phantom Of The Opera came to Broadway. I first heard highlights from the soundtrack in my mom’s car cassette player when I would be driven to violin lessons. I was about 7 years old at the time and I loved it. Of course I didn’t really understand it at the time, but soon enough I read the book, watched the film versions as I came across them (kudos to the Wishbone episode too, I remember that being on TV haha) and it’s become a story I deeply love. So cheers to Andrew Lloyd Webber and the countless cast and crew members who have brought so many productions to life on this the show’s 30th anniversary. 🥃
Plus I really like this picture of @tallestsilver and I, so I gif’d it. 🥀🖤
What’s been your experience with the show/story? Let’s add onto this!
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New Photon Detectors – A Crucial Step Toward Quantum wireless router Chips
www.inhandnetworks.com
One of the researchers’ new photon detectors, deposited athwart a light channel — or “waveguide” (horizontal black band) — on a silicon optical chip.
In a new study, researchers describe a micrometer-scale flip-chip process that enables scalable integration of superconducting nanowire single-photon detectors on a range of photonic circuits.
A team of researchers has built an array of light detectors sensitive enough to register the arrival of individual light particles, or photons, and mounted them on a silicon optical chip. Such arrays are crucial components of devices that use photons to perform quantum computations.
Single-photon detectors are notoriously temperamental: Of 100 deposited on a chip using standard manufacturing techniques, only a handful will generally work. In a paper appearing in Nature Communications, the researchers at MIT and elsewhere describe a procedure for fabricating and testing the detectors separately and then transferring those that work to an optical chip built using standard manufacturing processes.
In addition to yielding much denser and larger arrays, the approach also increases the detectors’ sensitivity. In experiments, the researchers found that their detectors were up to 100 times more likely to accurately register the arrival of a single photon than those found in earlier arrays.
“You make both parts — the detectors and the photonic chip — through their best fabrication process, which is dedicated, and then bring them together,” explains Faraz Najafi, a graduate student in electrical engineering and computer science at MIT and first author on the new paper.
Thinking small
According to quantum mechanics, tiny physical particles are, counterintuitively, able to inhabit mutually exclusive states at the same time. A computational element made from such a particle — known as a quantum bit, or qubit — could thus represent zero and one simultaneously. If multiple qubits are “entangled,” meaning that their quantum states depend on each other, then a single quantum computation is, in some sense, like performing many computations in parallel.
With most particles, entanglement is difficult to maintain, but it’s relatively easy with photons. For that reason, optical systems are a promising approach to quantum co industrial iot mputation. But any quantum computer — say, one whose qubits are laser-trapped ion automation s or nitrogen atoms embedded in diamond — would still benefit from using entangled photons to move quantum information around.
“Because ultimately one will want to make such optical processors with maybe tens or hundreds of photonic qubits, it becomes unwieldy to do this using traditional optical components,” says Dirk Englund, the Jamieson Career Development Assistant Professor in Electrical Engineering and Computer Science at MIT and corresponding author on the new paper. “It’s not only unwieldy but probably impossible, because if you tried to build it on a large optical table, simply the random motion of the table would cause noise on these optical states. So there’s been an effort to miniaturize these optical circuits onto photonic integrated circuits.”
The project was a collaboration between Englund’s group and the Quantum Nanostructures and Nanofabrication Group, which is led by Karl Berggren, an associate professor of electrical engineering and computer science, and of which Najafi is a member. The MIT researchers were also joined by colleagues at IBM and NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory.
Relocation
The researchers’ process begins with a silicon optical chip made using conventional manufacturing techniques. On a separate silicon chip, they grow a thin, flexible film of silicon nitride, upon which they deposit the superconductor niobium nitride in a pattern useful for photon detection. At both ends of the resulting detector, they deposit gold electrodes.
Then, to one end of the silicon nitride film, they attach a small droplet of polydimethylsiloxane, a type of silicone. They then press a tungsten probe, typically used to measure voltages in experimental chips, against the silicone.
“It’s almost like Silly Putty,” Englund says. “You put it down, it spreads out and makes high surface-contact area, and when you pick it up quickly, it will maintain that large surface area. And then it relaxes back so that it comes back to one point. It’s like if you try to pick up a coin with your finger. You press on it and pick it up quickly, and shortly after, it will fall off.”
With the tungsten probe, the researchers peel the film off its substrate and attach it to the optical chip.
In previous arrays, the detectors registered only 0.2 percent of the single photons directed at them. Even on-chip detectors deposited individually have historically topped out at about 2 percent. But the detectors on the researchers’ new chip got as high as 20 percent. That’s still a long way from the 90 percent or more required for a practical quantum circuit, but it’s a big step in the right direction.
“This work is a technical tour de force,” says Robert Hadfield, a professor of photonics at the router industrial University of Glasgow who was not involved in the research. “There is potential for scale-up to large circuits requiring hundreds of detectors using commercial pick-and-place technology.”
Publication: Faraz Najafi,et al., “On-chip detection of non-classical light by scalable integration of single-photon detectors,” Nature Communications 6, Article number: 5873; doi:10.1038/ncomms6873
Image: Courtesy of Nature Communications
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AMARANTHE's ELIZE RYD: 'It Felt Natural To Me To Listen To Metal'
RARE BLACK METAL COLLECTIBLES
France's United Rock Nations recently conducted an interview with frontwoman Elize Ryd of Swedish melodic metallers AMARANTHE. You can watch the entire chat below. A few excerpts follow (transcribed by BLABBERMOUTH.NET). On whether she thinks AMARANTHE has created a new style of metal by combining dance, techno and traditional metal elements: Elize: "I have that impression. That's a combination of music I've always loved, and to be able to create that in one package is quite incredible. I mean, we wanted to do it anyway, but we didn't know it would [be] so much appreciated. For example, I love to listen to Euro disco. I loved E-TYPE, for example, and BASIC ELEMENT, like that extreme music, that really made me energetic and enthusiastic. Then my father listened to metal and my brother was a growler in the underground Gothenburg scene, so that inspired me a lot. It has inspired me in that it felt natural to me to listen to metal. It was kind of raw. I thought metal people were much cooler and much more funny than regular [people]. Like, they could express themselves in a way that was allowed. That's why my father became a fan of metal as well. It was okay to be that expressive about yourself and not so [reserved]." On the band's new studio album, "Helix": Elize: "The thing is that we got very inspired to bring in the heavy riffing because Olof [Mörck] is obviously a great guitarist. Also, Morten [Løwe Sørensen], I wanted him to play the technical drums that he can do and also Olof so we were focusing on giving the instrumentals more space on this album because on the previous one, it was some kind of experiment between two albums. It was maybe that playing the songs wasn't so hard for Morten, even though he loved the songs and it's nice live. For him, to really show his capabilities of being a drummer, so it's nice to be able to know that hopefully people who listen to this album will get inspired to start to pick up their instruments and really practice." On whether "Helix" is a heavier album than its predecessors: Elize: "It is much more heavy. I also missed that when it came to the songwriting because we got so much out of doing the 'Maximalism' album. We could relieve that part of ourselves, so now, I felt it's actually very nice to be more aggressive to have that backup from the music and I can't wait to go on tour with this album. It's going to be very fun to see where it takes us live." On whether it's true AMARANTHE recorded "Helix" in two months: Elize: "That is actually true, yes. It's true also that we wrote the album in two months, then we went into the studio, then we recorded for two months, I think two and a half. It is very fast. We knew already in June of 2017 that we were going to record the album in March of 2018. Then, we had so many tours. I got very sick and everybody was tired and exhausted, so there was nothing happening on the songwriting until January because we couldn't find any space for that. When we could find space, I needed to recover because I'd been sick for three months. It was just no time for it. Then we kind of decided. I just knew I needed to rest a little bit then I would be back in the game. We decided, 'Okay, in January, I'm going to be back and healthy again, well-rested, so let's start to work on the album.' Then we just did that, and we wrote two songs in one week to be able to make it when the recording started in the studio. We had finished almost everything except for a few parts in the lyrics. It was not stressful, but it was a very creative process. Actually, I did like it to know that I don't have time to think so much. I just go with it. Not like analyze it for months. It was good we could make it [in time]." On how AMARANTHE divides up songwriting with three singers in the band: Elize: "For Nils [Molin, vocals], for instance, he was now so busy, he was writing his own album for DYNAZTY at the same time we were writing this album. He didn't write any lyrics or vocal melodies on this. Henrik [Englund Wilhelmsson, vocals], he comes up with ideas, but he's not so much into songwriting, which is also something that is hard for me to understand because I think every person wants to write songs. There are actually people who don't like that or feel like that they can't do it. Fair enough. When we do that, they can stay at home. Henrik has a family, which he gets the time to be with. He lives in Stockholm, Olof lives in Gothenburg, so when we work on the album for two whole months, he could be with them. Meanwhile, we were doing the job. So, it's a very luxurious situation for the people who aren't working with the business or songwriting. So, I'm happy for them. Let's see the future, I don't know. Like I said, every member inspires a lot. We send demos so everyone can have their opinion and go 'I think this could be something.' And they can think how they want to represent the new music, so it's very nice." "Helix" was released October 19 through Spinefarm Records. The disc was recorded at Hansen Studios in Ribe, Denmark with producer Jacob Hansen (VOLBEAT, EPICA, DELAIN).
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MY BLOG: http://www.rockoutwithyourcockout.com/
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The Pool Scene - Benito Cazares, Eric Aicinena, J.C. Torres, Joey Bourgeois, Jude Rosenstock, Kim Sanders, Laz Martinez, Ricardo Espinosa, Ryan Lane - Poison Lone Star Tour
New Post on https://thepoolscene.com/?p=53813
Bourgeois, Jr. and Davis, Sr. Strike on Poison Lone Star Tour
Joey Bourgeois, Jr., of Baytown, Texas, ran through the 64-player, amateur 9-ball division, in the Poison Lone Star Billiards Tour, Texas Open Warm-Up 9-Ball Event, defeating Austin newcomer Jude Rosenstock in the final set, 5-1. This marked Bourgeois’ second, consecutive victory, in his Tour career. In the 64-player, open 9-ball division, local favorite James Davis, Sr. took down Jude Rosenstock in the final, 6-3, securing his fifth win on Tour, of the past nine Tour events held at Skinny Bob’s. Rosenstock came very close to winning both divisions, a feat only one player has accomplished in the Tour’s ten years, while Austin’s Kim Sanders became the highest female finisher in an open or amateur division, in Tour history!
On August 4th-5th, 2018, Skinny Bob’s Billiards in Round Rock, Texas, along with tour title sponsor Poison by Predator Cues PoisonBilliards.com, and sponsors Cyclop Pool Balls, www.VaporKnightsUSA.com, APA of North Harris County, and OutsvilleBilliards.com, facilitated another successful event for the players of the Poison Lone Star Tour. Skinny Bob’s added a generous $1,000 to the two-day event, which paid out a whopping $8,745. The Tour would like to thank room owners John and Sue Cielo for their continued support, nine years running!
Each 64-player division kicked-off on Saturday afternoon, and brought back the final 32 in each, on Sunday. In the amateur 9-ball division, Joey Bourgeois, Jr. began his journey to the winners’ side final four with wins over Daniel Campos, 5-4, Mike Hoffman, 5-4, Nancy French, 5-1, and Jacob Case, 5-2, as Jose Ybarra tagged San Antonio’s Vance Rodriguez, 5-0, Lazaro Martinez, III, 5-2, Ryan Lane, 5-4, and Michelle Cortez, 5-4. Florida’s Chris Gentile plowed through Joel Acevedo, 5-2, Danny Wyatt, 5-1, J.C. Torres, 5-1, and Kim Sanders, 5-0, while Jude Rosenstock denied Chuck Adams, 5-3, Eddie Palmer, 5-1, Ricardo Espinosa, 5-3, and Shane Hvamstad. On the one loss side, J.C. Torres fell to Matt Wong, 4-2, and Oklahoma’s Micah Ott eliminated Ricardo Espinosa, 5-3. Kim Pierce passed Ryan Lane, and Eddie Palmer sent home Benito Cazares, 4-0. Wong was eliminated by Case, 4-1, and Cortez was shut out by Ott, 4-0, while Pierce caved to Hvamstad, 4-1, and Sanders dusted off Palmer, 4-2. Back on the east side, Rosenstock slid by Gentile, and Bourgeois, Jr. edged out a victory over Ybarra, both by the same score, 5-4. In the hot seat match, Bourgeois, Jr. eased pass Rosenstock, 5-4. On the west side, Case defeated Ott, but fell to Gentile, while Sanders ousted Hvamstad, then derailed Ybarra. Sanders went on to eliminate Gentile, 5-4, but fell to Rosenstock. Sanders settled into third place, becoming the highest female finisher in a Poison Lone Star Tour division. In the finals, Bourgeois, Jr. fought to avoid another hill-hill match. He ended Rosenstock’s run, 5-1, securing his second Tour victory of the 2018 season.
In the open division, James Davis, Sr. overcame Michael Parrott, 6-0, Laz Martinez, III, 6-5, Jacob Watson, 6-2, Laz Martinez, Jr., 6-2, and while Jason Roessler defeated Chris Habgood, John Demmett, 6-3, Justin Wright, 6-1, and Kim Sanders, 6-3. First-timer, Jude Rosenstock cut through Rene Rodriguez, Jose Ybarr, 6-5, Joel Acevedo, 6-4, and Paul Jobe, 6-1, as Jimmy Krone powered past Mike Englund, Vance Rodriguez, 6-2, Ralph Cardona, 6-5, and Benito Cazares, 6-5. On the west side, Eric Aicinena eliminated Joe Heinaman, 5-1, but fell to Jobe, 5-4, while Joey Torres took out Ybarra, and Cazares, 5-3. Upset by Ybarra in the first round, open-only player, Ruben Escalera, struck down Ryan Lane, and Kim Sanders, 5-0, marking up six wins on the one loss side, as Acevedo upset James Davis, Jr., 5-4, and Laz Martinez, Jr. Down to the final eight, winners’ side final four witnessed Davis, Sr. defeat Roessler, 6-1, and Rosenstock roll Krone, 6-0. In the hot seat match, Davis, Sr. wasted little time, overwhelming Rosenstock, 6-1. Back on the west side, Jobe edged out Torres and Roessler by the same score, 5-4, while Escalera ended Acevedo and Krone, both sets, 5-2. Escalera iced Jobe, 5-0, checking off his ninth win on the one loss side, but faltered against Rosenstock, losing 5-3. This was Rosenstock’s first Tour event, and first trip to the finals, where he faced the indomitable, James Davis, Sr. Although Rosenstock gave it his best shot, Davis Sr. took control and maintained the lead, securing his fifth Tour victory, 6-3.
The Tour would like to thank all the new players, some of which traveled from great distances, who competed in this event, and congratulate players who reached milestones. Paul Jobe achieved his highest finish to date, while Jude Rosenstock and Kim Sanders also made great strides, Jude finishing second in both divisions, and Kim, becoming the highest finishing, female player in a Poison Lone Star division. The Tour would also like to thank tournament co-director, Erica Hanlon, for all her assistance in running the boards and ensuring a smooth, seamless event, and photographer Mille Almaraz who captured some memorable, tournament moments. Finally, congratulations to this weekend’s Poison raffle winner, Louis Acosta from Jarrell, Texas. Acosta took home a Poison Arsenic3-2 playing cue.
The next event will be October 13th-14th, 2018, at Bogies Billiards West, located at 9638 Jones Road, in Houston, Texas. For more information, visit www.LoneStarBilliardsTour.com. Alongside the next Poison Lone Star event, there will be a Gulf Coast Women’s Regional Billiards Tour 9-Ball Event. For more information, visit www.GulfCoastWomensTour.com.
Amateur 9-Ball
1st Joey Bourgeois, Jr. $580/$820
2nd Jude Rosenstock $380/$540
3rd Kim Sanders $260/$420
4th Chris Gentile $140/$220
5th-6th Jose Ybarra, Jacob Case $60/$120
7th-8th Shane Hvamstad, Micah Ott $40/$50
9th-12th Eddie Palmer, Kim Pierce, Matt Wong, Michelle Cortez $30 ea
13th-16th Benito Cazares, Ryan Lane, Ricardo Espinosa, J.C. Torres $20 ea
Open 9-Ball
1st James Davis, Sr. $650/$850
2nd Jude Rosenstock $455/$570
3rd Ruben Escalera $310/$420
4th Paul Jobe $185/$285
5th-6th Jimmy Krone, Jason Roessler $100/$150
7th-8th Joey Torres, Joel Acevedo $50/$50
9th-12th Kim Sanders, Benito Cazares, Laz Martinez, Jr., Eric Aicinena $30 ea
13th-16th James Davis, Jr., Jose Ybarra, Joe Heinaman, Ryan Lane $20 ea
#Benito Cazares#Eric Aicinena#J.C. Torres#Joey Bourgeois#Jude Rosenstock#Kim Sanders#Laz Martinez#Ricardo Espinosa#Ryan Lane
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When Russian meddling in the U.S. got so bad the ambassador got the boot
By Will Englund, Washington Post, November 12, 2017
Russian meddling in American politics. Fake stories planted in the media. Accusations of financial doings under the table. Stolen correspondence, which becomes public. Unless it’s a forgery.
It was the fall of 1871. The parallels to today are nowhere near exact--President Trump said Saturday he was assured again by Russian President Vladimir Putin that Russia did not tamper with the U.S. presidential election--but they sure resonate.
Washington was in an uproar, and in the end Russian Ambassador Konstantin Catacazy was declared persona non grata for attempting to sway the policies of the U.S. government under President Ulysses S. Grant.
He was told to leave. But the Russians insisted he stay, so that he could usher the czar’s son, the 22-year-old Grand Duke Alexis, on a highly publicized and much anticipated tour of America. So the man Grant wanted to give the boot to came to the White House. Grant gritted his teeth, refused to speak to Catacazy, and declined to offer a meal to the grand duke, in what was an abrupt departure from protocol. The royal visit to the commander in chief lasted all of 15 minutes.
Russia had been counted among the staunchest friends of the United States. The empire of the czar was the only major European nation that openly backed the Union during the Civil War. Americans had sold gunpowder and rifles to the Russians when they fought the British, French and Turks in the Crimean War of 1853-56.
An American named Benjamin Perkins had arranged the sale, and delivered the munitions, but after the war the Russian government claimed he didn’t have a valid contract and refused to pay. Perkins took his case to Washington and, when the United States bought Alaska from Russia in 1867, Perkins’ widow argued she should take what he was owed out of the sale price. That didn’t work, and by 1871, with interest, the debt amounted to $1 million.
You can imagine how annoying the Perkins case must have been to officials in Washington: an irritant in relations with Russia, an amount of money that, even all those years ago, wasn’t that much, compared, for instance, to the $3 billion cost of the Civil War. Yet it wouldn’t go away, and the Perkins family hired lobbyists and found backers in the press who kept the complaint alive, 16 years on.
By the spring of 1871 the United States had begun talks with Great Britain to settle claims arising from the Civil War, when a British shipyard built a raider for the Confederates called the Alabama. Americans’ hostility to Britain was a fact of life through much of the 19th century, but especially so in the years following the war.
But here came Ambassador Catacazy. He feared the talks would lead to an improvement in relations between the United States and Britain. Russia’s interest, he believed, was in stoking bad feelings between the two, setting each against the other, as Russians today are accused of trying to stir up trouble between blacks and whites in the United States. Catacazy set out to torpedo the negotiations.
He wasn’t very subtle about it. His previous diplomatic experience had been in the Balkans, where Russian interference in internal affairs went without saying. Now, in Washington, he launched a campaign in the press and, shockingly for the time, began importuning members of Congress. Secretary of State Hamilton Fish complained about his “abusive and vituperative language toward very many persons.”
The New York Sun enthusiastically took up Catacazy’s cause, running a long front page story accusing Assistant Secretary of State Bancroft Davis of taking money from the British to settle the American claim in their favor. In those days, newspapers typically used honorifics with names, like Mr. Fish or Mrs. Grant. The Sun awarded the assistant secretary what might be called a dishonorific: He was frequently styled “Bribe-Taker Davis.” The paper alleged further that Davis stood to gain personally if the Perkins claim was allowed. It called Davis a “cunning and coldblooded … scamp.”
(Though there was plenty of graft in Grant’s administration, Davis by most accounts did not partake in it.)
The State Department was not pleased, and that wasn’t the worst of it. A letter from Catacazy to his superiors in Russia, about Perkins’ claim, alluded to Fish “in the most insulting manner,” according to the Chicago Tribune. Somehow the letter found its way into the hands of President Grant.
Catacazy had a complicated defense: Yes, he said, he had indeed written such a letter, but not this letter precisely. And the real letter, he said, had been stolen from his desk in the embassy. Expose the forger, thundered the New York Herald. The paper leapt to Catacazy’s defense. It quoted a subsequent note the ambassador wrote to Fish expressing “a feeling of disgust and indignation at the view of such abuse.”
The Chicago Tribune, no friend of Catacazy, eventually reported that the letter in fact appeared to be a forgery--but that it was written by a Russian serving under him in the embassy. It was designed to force the resignation of the ambassador, who was deeply unpopular among his underlings, the paper reported--but it also accurately reflected his true sentiments about Fish.
And there were other letters. The New York World had published correspondence under a pseudonym aimed at derailing the talks with Britain. Catacazy, the New York Times wrote, had been unmasked, “first dictating and then revising, in his own handwriting, a letter published in a New-York journal some months since, in which the foreign policy of the Government was misrepresented, and in which numerous false and malicious statements respecting public affairs and public officers were made.” The newspaper called this “mischievous intermeddling.”
Finally, Grant insisted that Catacazy had to go. Later, in his State of the Union address, Grant said: “It was impossible, with self-respect or with a just regard to the dignity of the country, to permit Mr. Catacazy to continue to hold intercourse with this Government after his personal abuse of Government officials, and during his persistent interferences, through various means, with the relations between the United States and other powers.”
In December, Catacazy departed for Europe. Grant was angry at the Russians (though his granddaughter later married a Russian prince). And Catacazy had failed in his mission--the following year the Alabama claims were settled, and a treaty restored friendly relations between Britain and the United States.
And the Grand Duke? After leaving chilly Washington he had a fine time, especially enjoying the company of stage actresses in New York. He went West that winter, as a guest of Gen. Philip Sheridan. They were joined by a colonel by the name of George Armstrong Custer, and they went hunting for bison. Their guide was Buffalo Bill Cody.
The Americans were amused by the way Alexis tucked his pants into the tops of his boots, and his inability to hit a bison at a distance of 20 feet. Switching from a pistol to a rifle, he finally downed an old bull from 10 feet away. The Russian entourage immediately popped the corks on champagne bottles. That was the end of the hunt for Alexis, who turned his attentions, Cody said, to an attractive young Indian woman who was accompanying the party.
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@mostfandomstrashcan
Thanks for the ask Laila! Hope you like this!
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