#Midnight circus dancer

[coulisses-onirisme]

Girly show Edward Hopper

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

Today, on November 10th, 1978 - Queen Story!

"Jazz" album released in the UK

👉 The seventh studio album

➡️ 12/12/1978 - Circus Magazine

🔸In praise of ‘JAZZ’

The boys conjure up a bizarre junket by Mark Mehler

On Bourbon Street, in the heart of New Orleans’ fabled French Quarter, the sign reads, “Bob Harrington-Chaplain of Bourbon Street.” Upstairs, the freelance minister administers to the wicked minions below, while across the street, the Hotsy Totsy lounge features naked women parading across an oak bar from dawn to dusk, and next door, the “X-rated Shop” specializes in scatological posters and joy sticks.

This is Freddie Mercury’s favourite American city, where the Mississippi ends its majestic flow and zealots with big dreams fight a losing battle against hustlers, procurers, and all purveyors of sleaze. It is Freddie Mercury’s favourite city because the lead singer and bucktoothed front man of Queen is, above all, an actor. And in New Orleans, anyone can be anyone they want to be. Tonight, October 31, 1978-Halloween-Freddie Mercury and Queen have flown in 80 reporters from the U.S., Europe, Latin America and Japan, to see a show and be a part of a show at the same time. The third concert on Queen’s 28-city U.S. tour is in the ornate Civic Auditorium. Above the stage are listed the names of the mighty: Shakespeare, Michelangelo, Cellini, Durer, Gounod. Out of the soft blue and green lights and smoke, Freddie Mercury struts like a rooster, striking ballet poses, under an astral guitar blare that neatly skirts the sharp edges of rock & roll. The melodies are undistinguished, but the constant tempo changes of “Bohemian Rhapsody” and “We Will Rock You”, keep an audience awake for nearly two hours of uninterrupted music. The lighting show is one of rock’s most ambitious. Eerie purple lights shine out over the heads of the audience, making their hair seem cloudlike and inanimate. At the midpoint of the show, a smaller stage is lowered from the ceiling and 400 lamps meld into the sheer white plane of curtain light. Freddie is a whirling dervish, dominating every corner of the stage.

“Some people call this song ‘Spread Your Legs’, he tells the audience, introducing ‘Spread Your Wings’. “And I like it that way”.

Starting out in black sequins, he comes out for the first encore bedecked in orange hot pants, dancing around like Peter Pan. For the second encore he’s wearing a revealing, white body stocking. As he wails ‘We Are The Champions’, his voice warbles with mock emotion, and he grasps the microphone for support. At the apex of the triumphant denouement, the top executives of Elektra Records, who have sat smiling throughout the show, arise as one and walk out. Moments later, the show closes with a taping of ‘God Save The Queen’. Body and soul spent, Freddie ambles off stage, drained and spark-less. But Halloween night in New Orleans has just begun.

Back in the ballroom of the Fairmont Hotel, over 400 people have gathered to await Queen and much on a sumptuous table of hors d’oeuvres, such as Oysters Rockfeller and Shrimp Creole. A Dixieland band plays uninspired jazz jingles, until, shortly before midnight, the Olympia Brass band comes marching through the hall accompanied by Queen-the mercurial Mercury, the winsome Brian May, the puckish John Deacon, the velvety Roger Taylor. Suddenly, like a giant circus orchestrated by a deranged ringmaster, a legion of strippers, vulgar fat-bottomed dancers, snake charmers, drag queens, and bizarrely festooned revellers, begin to strut their stuff before the assembled masses. Freddie Mercury is besieged by hungry autograph seekers, groupies and fame-worshippers. People begin shielding their clothes, as an ever-imaginative photographer snaps Freddie signing the bare backside of a willowy transvestite. Freddie begins sucking on his giant overbite nervously, and by 2 a.m., he is mercifully gone. Brian May, who seems to be the true organizer of the night’s carnival, is cornered by persistent Japanese newshounds. “It’s wonderful,” he keeps saying. “It’s so nice to be back.” As the evening wears on, epicene men and butch women act out charades of power that would have embarrassed Hemingway. Three obese black women in g-strings do a pathetic bump and grind, and another female participant amuses a small gaggle of onlookers by putting a cigarette in an unlikely place. People leave to check out the scene on Bourbon Street and drift back to the party like cigar smoke. At 4 a.m., a Queen security guard, haggard and irritable, inquires when it will all be over. “Queen wants the naked disco dancers going to dawn,” informs his partner. And it does. The following day, Queen reappears at a press conference at Brennan’s, one of the French Quarter’s most elegant restaurants. Again, it is Roger Taylor and Brian May who dominate the conversation, as Freddie Mercury seems vaguely preoccupied. The subject of all this is ‘Jazz’, Queen’s new album, which contains no jazz. “People think we take ourselves a lot more seriously than we actually do,” says Roger Taylor. ‘Jazz’, Queen’s reunion with former producer Roy Thomas Baker, offers ‘Mustapha’, an up-tempo Hebrew rocker; ‘Fat Bottomed Girls’, a song that owes a lot to Pure Prairie League’s ‘Amie’; and more indulgent rhapsodies like ‘Jealousy’ and ‘Bicycle Race’, with its topical references to Star Wars, Jaws, and Superman. The ad campaign, like everything about the Band, goes to the limit of good taste: 11 bare-chested, major-league-yabboed women racing bicycles.

“It’s cheeky”, admits Freddie, “naughty, but not lewd. Certain stores, you know, won’t run our poster. I guess some people don’t like to look at nude ladies.”

Freddie, 32, was born in Zanzibar and educated in India, and was a childhood table tennis and hockey prodigy. He studied art and became a graphic designer and illustrator, having given up piano lessons in the fourth grade. But he continued singing, fronting his first band at 14 and forming Queen with Roger and Brian in 1970. After the routine easy grilling, Mercury is cornered outside. “You seem to be removed from the character up on stage. Is that really you?”

“No,” says Freddie, “of course it’s an act.”

He denies pandering to gays; or for that matter, to anyone. He hints at a quiet, restless man who needs to step outside of himself for ego-stimulation.

“I have fun wearing all those costumes,” he says. “I can really cut loose up there”.

Freddie is then swiftly ushered out, and again, Brian May is left behind to field the endless questions of the Japanese. The two-day junket, painstakingly directed by and for Queen, ends with a few straggling journalists eating Bananas Foster and being more cynical than usual. Outside, on Bourbon Street, a folk singer entertains an empty house of red velour seats, affirming that a falling tree makes a sound whether it’s heard or not. Which conjures up something Brian May had said about Queen constantly seeking “direct communication with our audience.” For all the words that describe Queen’s trip to New Orleans, direct is surely not one.

[la-femme-au-collier-vert]

A List of Works Influencing and Referenced by IWTV Season 1

Works Directly Referenced

Marriage in a Free Society by Edward Carpenter

A Doll’s House by Henrik Ibsen

Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert

Cheri by Collete

A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams

La Nausee by Jean-Paul Sartre (credit to @demonicdomarmand )

Complete Poetry of Emily Dickinson edited by Thomas H. Johnson*

Blue Book by Tom Anderson

The Book of Abramelin the Mage

The Savage Garden by Mark Mills credit to @speckled-jim

Midnight in Washington: How We Almost Lost Our Democracy and Still Could by Adam Schiff credit to @spreckled-jim

America and Dissent: Why America Suffers When Economics and Politics Collide by Alan S. Blinder credit to @speckled-jim

Dairy Queen Days by Robert Inman credit to @speckled-jim

Plan B 2.0: Rescuing a Planet Under Stress and a Civilization in Trouble by Lester R. Brown credit to @speckled-jim

Attila: the Judgement by William Napier credit to @speckled-jim

In A Heartbeat by Rosalind Noonan credit to @spreckled-jim

The Lost Recipe for Happiness by Barbara O'Neal credit to @speckled-jim

Toward a Christian Theology of Religious Pluralism" by Jacques Dupuis credit to @speckled-jim

Strawberry Hill: Horace Walpole's Gothic Castle by Anna Chalcraft & Judith Viscardi credit to @speckled-jim

Sailing to Byzantium by Yeats

The Circus Animal's Desertion by Yeats

The Second Coming by Yeats

Don Pasquale by Gaetano Donizetti with libretto by Giovanni Ruffini

Iolanta by Pyotr Tchaikovsky with libretto by Modest Tchaikovsky

Pelleas et Melisande by Claude Debussy

Epigraphes Antiques by Claude Debussy

Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992)

Nosferatu (1922)

The Graduate (1967)

Marie Antoinette (1938)

On the Origin of the Species by Charles Darwin

De Masticatione Mortuorum in Tumulis by Michael Ranft (1728)

Emily Post’s Etiquette

Bach’s Minuet in G Major (arranged as vampire minuet in G major)

Artworks referenced (much credit in this section to @iwtvfanevents and to @nicodelenfent )

Fall of The Rebel Angels by Peter Bruegel The Elder (1562)

The Storm on the Sea of Galilee by Rembrandt (1633)

Three Peaches on a Stone Plinth by Adriaen Coorte (1705)

Strawberries and Cream Raphaelle Peale, (1816) credit to @diasdelfeugo

Red Mullet and Eel by Edouard Manet (1864)

Starry Night by Edvard Munch (1893)

Self Portrait by Edvard Munch (1881)

Captain Percy Williams on a Favorite Irish Hunter by Samuel Sidney (1881)

Autumn at Arkville by Alexander H. Wyant 

Cumulus Clouds, East River by Robert Henri 

Mildred-O Hat by Robert Henri (Undated)

Ship in the Night James Gale Tyler (1870)

Bouquet in a Theater Box by Renoir (1871)

Berthe Morisot with a Fan by Édouard Manet (1872)

La Vierge D’aurore by Odilon Redon (1890) credit to @vampirepoem on twt

Still Life with Blue Vase and Mushrooms by Otto Sholderer (1891)

After the Bath: Woman Drying her Hair by Edgar Degas (1898)

Bust of a Woman with Her Left Hand on Her

Chin by Edgar Degas (1898) credit to @terrifique

Backstage at the Opera by Jean Beraud (1889)

Roman Bacchanal by Vasily Alexandrovich Kotarbiński (1898)

Dancers by Edgar Degas (1899)

Calling the Hounds Out of Cover by Haywood Hardy (1906)

Dolls by Witold Wojtkiewicz (1906) credit to @gyzeppelis on twt

Forty-two Kids by George Bellows (1907)

The Artist's Sister Melanie by Egon Schiele (1908)

Paddy Flannigan by George Bellows (1908)

Stag at Sharkey’s by George Bellows (1909)

The Lone Tenement by George Bellows (1909)

Ode to Flower After Anacreon by Auguste Renoir (1909) credit to @iwtvasart on twt

New York by George Bellows (1911)

Young Man kneeling before God the Father

Egon Schiele (1909)

Kneeling Girl with Spanish Skirt by Egon Schiele (1911)

Portrait of Erich Lederer by Egon Schiele (1912)

Krumau on the Molde by Egon Schiele (1912)

Weeping Nude by Edvard Munch (1913)

The Cliff Dwellers by George Bellows (1913)

Church in Stein on the Danube by Egon Schiele (1913)

Self Portrait in a Jerkin by Egon Schiele (1914)

The Kitten's Art Lesson by Henriette Ronner Knip credit to @terrifique

Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion by Francis Bacon (1944)

New York by Vivian Maier (1953)

Self Portrait by Vivian Maier (Undated)

Self Portrait by Vivian Maier (1954)

Slave Auction by Jean-Michelle Basquiat (1982)

(Untitled) photo of St. Paul Loading Docks by Bradley Olson (2015)

Transformation by Ron Bechet (2021)

(Untitled) sculpture in the shape of vines by Sadie Sheldon

(Untitled) Ceramic Totems by Julie Silvers (Undated)

Mother Daughter by Rahmon Oluganna

Twins I by Raymon Oluganna

@iwtvfanevents made a post of unidentified works here.

Works Cited by the Writer’s Room as Influences

Bourbon Street: A History by Richard Campanella (as it hardly mentions Storyville I think interested parties would be better served by additional titles if they want a complete history of New Orleans)

Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino (This was also adapted into an award winning opera)

poetry by Charles Simic (possibly A Wedding in Hell?)

poetry by Mark Strand (possibly Dark Harbour?)

Works IWTV may be in conversation with (This is the most open to criticism and additions)

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, uncensored (There are two very different versions of this which exist today, as Harvard Press republished the unedited original with permission from the Wilde family.)

Absalom, Absalom! by William Faulkner

Warsan Shire for Beyoncé’s Lemonade

Faust: A Tragedy by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

La Morte Amoreuse by Theophile Gautier

Carmilla by Sheridan LeFanu

Maurice by E.M. Forster

Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison (credit to @johnlockdynamic )

1984 by George Orwell (credit to @savage-garden-nights for picking this up)

The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman

A Rose for Emily by William Faulkner

Gone With the Wind film (1939)

Hannibal (2013)

Beauty and the Beast by Gabrielle Suzanne de Villenueve

Music used in Season 1 collected by @greedandenby here

*if collected or in translation most of the best editions today would not have been available to the characters pre-1940. It’s possible Louis is meant to have read them in their original French in some cases, but it would provide for a different experience. Lydia Davis’ Madame Bovary, for example, attempts to replicate this.

** I've tagged and linked relevant excerpts under quote series as I've been working my way through the list.

Season 2 here

Season 3 here

[elalalune]

. * slides into your asks * Do you have songs that fits Shuggy in general too? 👉👈

!!!!!!! I HAVE A LOT HOLD ON

I might repeat some from my previous song reccs but anyway—

Alec Benjamin - Swim

Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know?

Bastille - Good Grief

Britney Spears - Circus

Daughter - Youth

Fish in a Birdcage - Rule #27-Drunk on Pride

Florence & The Machine - Wish That You Were Here

Freddy Mercury - The Great Pretender

Imagine Dragons - Follow You

Imase - NIGHT DANCER

John Newman - Love Me Again

Jon-YAKITORY (ft. Ado) - Faking of Comedy

King Princess - Talia

Laufey - Promise

Lorde - A World Alone

Lorde - Bravado

Lorde - Glory and Gore

Lorde - Perfect Places

Lorde - Swingin Party

Marianas Trench - Cross My Heart

OR3O - All Eyes On Me

Sebastián Yatra - Two Oruguitas

Taylor Swift - Bad Blood

Taylor Swift - Gold Rush

Taylor Swift - Midnight Rain

Taylor Swift - The Great War

The Crane Wives - Allies or Enemies

The Crane Wives - Never Love an Anchor

The Crane Wives - The Moon Will Sing

Troye Sivan- TALK ME DOWN

[mizugucci]

hi, i hope you're doing well <33 🎵

- sillyabtmusic (sent off anon cuz idk which blog(s) are better to reference ;;^_^)

hiiii so this was both very late (sorry) and difficult - there was lots of ways i could've gone!

position: i went with soloist, so the positions are pretty clear lol while you are fantastic at both singing and dancing, the performance itself is where you excel. no matter where you perform, with/without backup dancers, you draw everyone in and fill the stage

concept: like a darker version of hugh jackman in the greatest showman, lol if that makes any sense. you bring a little bit of everything to the table, so it's always a show when fans see you. sometimes the concept is a puppetmaster, the puppet itself, a ring master, a magician, a conductor (perhaps even having a live orchestra????)... all the big showy things you'd think like that. i can see several of the shows itching into dark fantasy or horror

name: this was sooooo hard again bc of the possibilities. and im not satisfied with it, but it sounds like a soloist name lolll anyway: Baton is the name i chose, since that's the stick thingy that conductors use. you dont always use the baton, but it is a recurring theme, especially when you use it to control the backup dancers (a version of puppet master). Baton as a name won me over when i was reading the wikipedia page of Baton (conducting) and this quote was there:

"if a conductor uses a baton, the baton itself must be a living thing, charged with a kind of electricity, which makes it an instrument of meaning in its tiniest movement." which is sooo true of your concept and your existing as a musical act

debut song/mv: the immediate thing that comes to mind is based on sunnyhill's midnight circus. it has the perfect amount of creepiness without being scary or include gore, and i LOVE the uniqueness of the tone. i would definitely base the debut on that song&mv, except halfway thru the mv instead of just escaping, YOU become the puppetmaster over those that dared wrong you. it took a while to crawl to the top but now that you're in the spotlight you won't let it go!

fun fact: one of the concepts that you end up doing is actually a 'storyteller' where your song(s) are very long, telling an entire story as props/actors move around behind you. you refuse to name your fans because you want everyone to be able to enjoy you, casual or hardcore stan doesn't matter. it's a nice change in the industry actually

send me a 🎵 and ill create a kpop group with you in it, based on your blog

[styleofdiamandis]

X FACTOR: MARINA STUNS IN STINE GOYA

Marina was the musical guest at the X Factor Denmark finale on March 22nd, 2013. I couldn't find her stage outfit but we can still talk about her dreamy backstage look!

Life is a circus! And that is what Stine Goya's Spring/Summer 2013 collection titled "La Parade Marveilleuse" tried to tell us.

Marina chose a full look which included a bomber jacket, chiffon blouse and wide-leg trousers with beautiful prints inspired by Harlequin figures, balancing tightrope dancers and exotic animals in the circus ring.

"The interplay between the colors used in the collection, which cover a range from the soft pastels to the vivid pink and the deep midnight blue nuances, accentuate the fine balance between mystery, drama, humor and melancholy."

[redpandasintutus210]

Miaoschemberina the Meowscarada/Braixen Hybrid Magician Ballerina

Name: Miaoschemberina Real Name: Maria Title: Miaoschemberina the Magnificent Ballerina Magician Gender: Female Pokémon Species: Braixen/Meowscarada hybrid fusion Hobbies: Magic, Ballet, Illusions & Playing the Violin. Moves: - Flower Trick - Mystical Fire - Mystical Flower Trick (A combination of Mystical Fire and Flower Trick) - Magic Room/Trick Room/Wonder Room - Psyshock/Psybeam/Psywave - Trick - Telekinesis - Mirror Coat - Petal Dance - Petal Blizzard - Grass/Fire Pledge (Otherwise known as Sea of Flames) - Double Team - Hone Claws - Night Slash - Magical Leaf - Trailblaze - Dark Pulse - Substitute - Shadow Claw - Fire Spin - Psychic - Encore - Sunny Day - Hypnosis - Psyfirecracker - Petal Flare - Frenzy Plant - Blast Burn - Blast Plant (A combo move of Frenzy Plant and Blast Burn) - Flamethrower - Quiver Dance - Acrobatics - Solar Beam - Solar Flare (A combo move of Solar Beam and Flamethrower) - Rainbow Blaze (A Rainbow version of Flamethrower powered by Petal Blizzard and Psywave) - Tera Blast Personality: Flamboyant, Graceful, Elegant, Sophisticated Optimistic, Charosmatic, Caring, Attentive, Confident and Resilient. Backstory: Miaoschemberina is a member of the Wondrium and Extravaganz’s Ringadingaling Bros. Traveling PokéCircus. She was born to a wealthy and highly educated family as Maria. Her father was a Meowscarada and a famous Magician/Illusionist and her mother was a Braixen and a famous ballerina. However, she lost her parents in a tragic car accident that left her an orphan when she was just a young little Fennekin/Sprigatito fusion. She was placed in an orphanage that was run by a kind and caring female Indeedee nun named Sister Hannah. While spending her days in the orphanage, she practiced her magic and ballet skills, she was pretty great at both magic and ballet. One day, when Maria was almost a Fennekin/Floragato hybrid, the orphanage went to the Wondrium & Extravaganz’s Ringadingaling Bros. Traveling Circus. Maria was astonished and amazed by the spectacular performances of the circus performers. In fact, she was so amazed that she packed up all of her things and ran away from the orphanage and snuck onto the Circus’ locomotive train on the day that the Traveling Circus was leaving the town where the orphanage was & she wanted to join the circus. While traveling, she practiced her magic and ballet skills, getting more and more skilled and graceful each lesson and each day, impressing and amazing the circus performers, a Buzzwole strongman named Atlas, an Ursaluna/Machamp hybrid strongman named Dmitri, a Bewear strongman named Muscles, a psychic Meowstic and Alakazam magician duo of The Great Psimon and his lovely assistant, Giselle, a group of Pokémon contortionists known as the Nimble 12, which consist of a Gholdengo named Cesar, a Lokix named Chang, a Greninja named Sheng, a Lopunny named Xi-Ling, a Liepard named Chi-Shi, An Espeon named Xiaomao, An Umbreon named Kenshi, A Quaquaval named Lucretio, A Tangrowth named Mochi, A Hisuian Lilligant named Baozi, A Salazzle named Meimei & A Sawk named Zhenji, two Stunt riders consisting of a Koraidon named Spike and a Miraidon named Jhett, a daredevil Togodemaru named Koshi, a high wire ballerina Sylveon/Lopunny fusion named Lilliantheil, a stilt walking Hitmonlee named Jakk, a Pyroar tamer Breloom named Jim, a transgender half man/half woman half-and-half performing Primarina named Sander-Jasmine (inspired by Bioshock’s Sander Cohen and Jasmine Jolene), a tightrope walking Gardevoir named Jolene, a bearded female Stoutland named Olga, an aerial hoop dancer Vaporeon named Celine, a whole gaggle of pokemon clowns consisting of a Male Granbull named Jo-Jo, a Male Mightyena named Pogo, a Male Midnight Lycanroc named Smiles, a Male Miming Mr. Rime named Shush, a Male Houndstone named Squeezer, a Female ballerina clown Kirlia/Sylveon/Ninetales fusion named Twinkletoes, whose real name is Gisellebella, that takes ballet very seriously and was once a promising ballerina, a Ditto named Shifty, a Female Hisuian Zoroark named Kooky Yuuki, a Male Mimikyu named Toots, a Male Vigoroth named Honkers, a Male Poochyena named Rupert, a Female Vulpix named Giggles, a Male Gengar named Bobo, a couple of Tatsugiri clowns, a Female Gothorita clown named Vivi, a Popplio clown named Bubbles, a Female Purugly clown named Patches, a Male Sableye clown named Bones, a Male Druddigon clown named Crispy, a Male Salamance clown named Jumbo, a Male Hisuian Typhlosion clown named Bonzo, a Male Dunsparce clown named Knickknack, a Male Dundunsparce clown named Paddywhack, a Female Slurpuff clown named Lollypop, a Male Appletun clown named Wiggles, a Female Sunflora clown named Sunny, a Male Archaeops named Gogo, a juggling Male Tangrowth clown named Juggles, a Male Kecleon clown named Skittles, a Female Tinkaton clown named Smashy, a Male Noivern/Exploud fusion named Cackles, a Female Swoobat named Loveydove, a Male Maschiff named Grinny, a Female Snorlax named Squeezy, a Male Ting Lu/Chien Pao/Wo Chien/Chi Yu hybrid clown named Ruru, and various other Pokémon clowns, a Falinks and Maushold performing duo known as The Mauses and Gladio, a couple of comedic Croagunk stackers, a Hypnotist Hypno named Somnumbula, a couple of flying type Pokémon acrobats consisting of a Male Braviary named Ace, a Male Pidgeot named Swifty, a Female Swellow named Thundra, a Male Staraptor named Star, an Unfezant duo consisting of a male named Feathers and a female named Ariel, an acrobatic ballerina Swanna named Odette, a Talonflame named Cindero, and a Bombirdier named Glyde, a Trapeze artist couple consisting of a Gallade named Romeo and a Gardevoir named Juliet, a fire breathing Meinshao named Cheng, a sword swallowing Swalot named Omnom, a couple of circus ballerina Pokémon, including a Plusle and a Minun sister duo consisting of Viviana the Plusle and Fatima the Minun, a Latias ballerina who originally was a famous Prima ballerina assoluta named Sylvia, a Zangoose ballerina named Evangeline, a Hitmontop ballerina named Brenna and a Furfrou Ballerina named Marjorie and various other performers. It wouldn’t be long after her evolution into a Braixen/Meowscarada fusion that her practice would pay off and she would join the circus and make her first circus debut as Miaoschemberina where she dazzled the crowd with her elegant ballet and magic skills, combining them to make a magically spectacular performance. She has been part of the circus ever since. She has wowed many people with her magic and ballet skills for many years. She has also mixed her ballet skills with her magic skills, adding ballet to her act. The circus is like her new family. She is inspired by Yan Yan Ma the Ballerina Magician (youtu.be/Ko5k1WeRoiQ), Sylvando from Dragon Quest XI & Trucy Wright from Ace Attorney. Friends & Family: - Unnamed Braixen Mother - Unnamed Meowscarada Father - The Ringmaster - Atlas - Dmitri - Muscles - Psimon - Giselle - The Nimble 12 - Spike and Jhett - Koshi - Lilliantheil - Jakk - Jim - Sander-Jasmine - Jolene - Olga - Celine - Jo-Jo - Pogo - Bobo - Honkers - Squeezy - Toots - Gogo - Squeezer - Smiles - Grinny - Ruru - Cackles - Loveydove - Rupert - Kooky Yuuki - Shifty - Giggles - Shush - Gisellebella aka Twinkletoes - Juggles - Smashy - Vivi - Bubbles - Wiggles - Jumbo - Bones - Bonzo - Crispy - Knickknack - Paddywhack - Sunny - Skittles - Lollypop - The Mauses and Gladio - The Croagunk stackers - Thunder - Swifty - Odette - Ariel - Ace - Glyde - Feathers - Cindero - Cheng - Somnumbula - Omnom - Romeo - Juliet - Viviana and Fatima - Sylvia - Evangeline - Brenna - Marjorie - The Other Circus Performers

[grantgoddard]

… and the award for car-crash Olympic flame live TV coverage goes to … : 2024 : La Premiere, French Guyana

 1995. The evening weatherwoman was standing in front of a wall map of the nation, reading the forecast for tomorrow’s conditions. In her hand were symbols for rain, sunshine and cloud that she went to place on relevant locations on the map. The icons remained there for no more than a few seconds before tumbling noisily to the floor. She bent down to pick them up and attempted once again to attach them to the map … with the same outcome. She soldiered on bravely until her script was completed in front of a wholly symbol-free map, then turned towards the camera with a weary farewell gaze that communicated: ‘why do I have to work with this rubbish technology?’

Was this ‘malfunction’ happening every evening on the Kenya government’s national television channel? I recognised her supposedly magnetic symbols from having watched nightly ITV regional weather forecasts during my childhood in Britain. Perhaps her masters had purchased a ‘job lot’ of second-hand apparatus from a classified advert in the back pages of ‘Broadcast’ magazine placed by one of those lazy UK commercial television stations that had eventually had their ‘licence to print money’ removed by the regulator. Wincey Willis, all is forgiven.

2014. I was lodging in a small town in southern Spain over the New Year. Just before midnight on 31 December, I impetuously took a ten-minute walk from the rented apartment to the main square to observe how the noisy Spanish were celebrating the impending change of calendar. There I found … they weren’t. Christmas decorations strung across the streets were fully illuminated, but not a soul was to be seen. In the town square, you would have heard a pin drop. It was eerie in a community of 15,000 to encounter deafening silence on entirely vehicle-free, human-free streets. Did the Spanish’s ‘reluctance’ to exert themselves (long daily siestas, shops closed during summer afternoons, holidays lasting weeks) extend to New Year’s Eve celebrations? I returned home, mystified.

There, switching on Spanish television, I caught a typically abysmal live variety show welcoming the New Year by parading a succession of uninspiring musicians and poorly choreographed dancers in front of a studio audience. Like so much of Spain’s TV, this circus was fronted by a male presenter whose suit seams were suffering immense stress and a young woman dressed like a high-class prostitute who would obligingly laugh loudly at her co-host’s every witticism. At twelve o’clock, the two of them indulged in Spain’s tradition of gulping down one grape at each of the twelve strokes of the midnight bell. For this, you can buy tiny cans of precisely twelve grapes in Spanish supermarkets.

Naturally, both presenters found utterly hilarious their inability to successfully complete this annual task, sat on their over-high bar stools. Then, amongst all the fake joviality, it became evident that the woman had wet herself and it was visibly trickling down her inside legs below an over-short, sparkly dress. What impact did this have on proceedings? None whatsoever. Everyone involved carried on as if nothing at all had happened. It was yet another of those television moments when you begin to question whether you really did see something THAT ‘abnormal’ on your TV. ‘Entertainment’ arrives in strange forms in Spain (The Inquisitions?) so, for all I know, she was probably invited back the following year.

2024. I have been lucky enough to be in France witnessing the run-up to the Paris Olympic Games. On 9 May, as the Olympic flame arrived in Marseille by boat from Greece, the French state broadcaster launched an online television channel dedicated solely to the impending event. Presently, the flame is passing through 68 of France’s 96 geographical ‘departments’, in each of which it is carried through streets of six or seven towns/villages consecutively by a relay of local volunteers walking/jogging around 200 metres each. In total, by the time the Games commence in July, the flame will have been carried during 68 days by 10,000 individuals through 450 of France’s 35,000 ‘communities.’

The new TV channel (confusingly named ‘Paris 24’ like longstanding news station ‘France 24’) offers around eight hours per day of live coverage of the torch as it wends its way up hills and down dales through France. The dominant visuals derive from Ronin Steadicam cameras held by two videographers sat facing backwards on the rear of peddle-powered tricycles, filming the torchbearer running towards them. This is supplemented by two scooter riders with lightweight cameras attached to their handlebars, a roving reporter interviewing people with another Steadicam, and two overhead drones. The vision mixer seems to be in situ (in a van behind the torchbearer?) and has a fondness for abrupt cutaways from the torchbearer, often of no more than a few seconds, as if directing an urgent pop music video. A bored male voiceover reads a script extolling the history of the town/village and the name, age and occupation of each volunteer carrier.

The results are often scrappy but make intriguing viewing. The satellite link occasionally fails, cameras temporarily lose their signals under bridges, inside buildings and when scooter riders collide with obstacles. There seems to be no ‘talkback’ facility, requiring camera operators to occasionally communicate using hand signals in front of their lenses. This coverage initially appeared somewhat amateurish, but quickly became addictive for this armchair viewer. What better way to visit so much of France’s rich land than the view from the back of a slow-moving tricycle? I have already accompanied the flame’s journey to mountain peaks above clouds, to caves of prehistoric art, across magnificently modern bridges, on kayaks down fast-flowing rivers and through historical theme parks. Watching the way France has beautifully maintained and restored its phenomenal history helps you understand why the majority of the French take their annual holiday within their country. There is so much to experience here!

Simultaneously, the sheer humanity on view has proven heartwarming in these ‘challenging’ times. Volunteers chosen to carry the flame have been of all ages, visually diverse and many with disabilities they have overcome to participate. One very elderly man with an arm in a sling shuffled along the route more than walked, taking an age to complete 200 metres, but was patiently accommodated. One torchbearer fell to his knees en route and proposed to his girlfriend as he passed her amongst bystanders. The crowds that have attended each stage of the torch’s journey have been huge and enthusiastic, particularly the hordes of children given the day off school to display the results of their Olympic Games art projects. There have regularly been very moving, spontaneous little moments that pre-scripted, sanitised television can never achieve.

On 9 June, the flame skipped out of mainland France for the first time to travel through the department of French Guyana in South America. I was very much looking forward to watching a travelogue through this little-known, far-flung outpost … until it emerged that, instead of coverage being mixed on-the-ground as usual by ‘France TV’ staff, responsibility had been inexplicably handed to the organisation’s local television station ‘Guyane La Première’. Instead of the focus remaining on the journey of the torch, the dozens of torchbearers and the communities passed, its station management turned this potentially historic outside broadcast into a studio-based programme. Had they not read the memo from head office? Had they not watched online the coverage of the torch journey to date? Or had they merely decided to do what the hell they wanted regardless? The outcome was predictably disastrous.

The TV station’s morning broadcasts omitted any live coverage of the flame arriving by boat in the village of Camopi at 0620 and its 1km journey through the town. The usual cameras and drones were on-site but their raw videography was edited down to an inadequate two-minute roundup repeatedly broadcast later in the day. The thrill of continuous live coverage had been completely lost. When the morning studio programme eventually started, it was led by a well-dressed man and woman (Nikerson Perdius and Geniale Attoumani) sat side-by-side at a desk covered in sheets of paper scripts. They appeared so under-confident that the man constantly shuffled their papers while the woman rung her hands. Occasionally, their eyes would meet with a look of ‘what the hell should we do next’. Instead of simply giving us the live feed of the flame, they viewed their role as interviewing their equally nervous two non-Olympic sportsman studio guests who used the airtime to complain about the lack of professional quality sports facilities locally. The studio presentation continued in this style for 90 minutes, repeatedly reading out the times and locations of the torch’s journey as if it were a radio show, but failing to show us more than sporadic visuals of the flame.

Unbelievably, after a break, the same two presenters returned for a further three-hour studio-based show that still failed to provide much live coverage. The flame’s 800-metre journey at 1110 around the huge high-tech satellite launching pad ‘space station’ at Kourou should have provided a great opportunity to appreciate Guyana’s technological significance. Instead, we saw almost nothing of the event because the presenters decided, at that critical moment, inexplicably to reshow the edited package of the flame’s early morning arrival at Camopi. I was moved to repeatedly shout at the television: “what the hell is the editor doing?” Much more important to the station were more endless studio chats with another set of non-Olympic sports guests. Just as bizarre were the live vox-pops with people on the streets who had observed the flame’s progress … instead of allowing us viewers to watch the flame’s progress first-hand.

Surely, the station’s afternoon coverage could not be worse? Don’t underestimate. Whereas the early shift presenters were under-confident, the afternoon team (Tamo Brasse and Charly Torres) appeared supremely over-confident, particularly in their own self-importance, one inexplicably wearing a ‘Tram Tours, Lisboa, Portugal’ tee-shirt. For 140 minutes, they talked and talked and talked with their sporting studio guests. The station’s on-the-ground contributors providing live commentary on the flame’s passage proved professional but were far too infrequently used. By now, my wife was also shouting at the television for the hosts to shut up because, once again, they seemed to imagine they were on the radio and left no space unfilled by their voices, instead of allowing us view the live images and accompanying ambient sound. Ironically, whilst they chatted interminably, a large-screen TV was visible on the wall behind them in the studio, displaying the live feed of the torch’s progress … a visual they and their editor were preventing us from viewing.

In the evening, when the flame made its final journey of the day through the capital Cayenne, these same presenters returned for a further one-hour show. Now with two on-the-ground live reporters, this should have been a more satisfying viewing experience .. but wasn’t. The only reason they talked less animatedly and, instead, mumbled to each other was the absence of studio guests or their possible exhaustion. Suddenly, just when it seemed possible that we might view some uninterrupted live local coverage, the station inexplicably cut to a live feed of the European Athletics Championships women’s 100m semifinal from Italy in which French athlete Gemima Joseph was competing. By now, we were both screaming at the television: “the Olympic flame happens once in a lifetime in Guyana!”. (Incidentally, Britain’s Dina Asher-Smith won and Joseph came second.)

Could it get worse? Yes. The station was now interrupting its live coverage with pre-recorded packages, each lasting several minutes, about preparations for the Olympic flame’s arrival that had already been broadcast within the station’s two daily local news bulletins on previous days. Why choose this ‘filler’ when there is a once-a-century live event happening in your backyard? The icing on the cake for this unmitigated television disaster happened just as the flame was about to arrive at its final destination in the capital Cayenne where, at 1920, it would light the Olympic cauldron in front of a huge crowd. Twenty minutes before that, the two presenters folded their arms and, looking pleased with their performances, bade their audience a final farewell … BEFORE the flame had reached the crowning glory of its journey. Live coverage terminated. We screamed our heads off.

Had these presenters viewed the event as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to show off their chat skills beyond French Guyana on a television channel watched across mainland France? Were their efforts a pitch for some kind of longform chat show? Their station’s mediocre efforts were an insult to the many local volunteers carrying the torch, to the communities in Guyana it passed through, and to the hundreds of Olympic Games staff on the ground who enabled the torch to pass through the landscape. While the broadcasters had sat self-absorbed in their cosy TV studio, the hard work of on-the-ground videographers had been marginalised and mostly discarded. I tuned in wanting to actually see French Guyana and what I got instead were ‘talking heads’ in a studio. It was a disgraceful betrayal of everything the Olympics stands for.

Did nobody from state TV’s Paris HQ phone up and demand to know what the hell their employees in Guyana were doing? We will never know. Will heads roll? Unlikely because employment in France’s public sector is mostly a ‘job for life’. You would have to murder a client to be sacked. Watching television in mainland France, its output is filled with ‘the great and the good’ talking endlessly on studio panel discussion shows about anything and everything. It’s essentially cheap ‘talk radio’ programming parading as ‘television’.

Whenever ‘the system’ screws up in France, there are never apologies, never sanctions. Any problem is passed down to the user, the consumer, the citizen to suffer the consequences. The day after the Guyana station’s contemptuous Olympic flame coverage, ‘France TV’ HQ in Paris suddenly blocked online viewers from watching that local station’s live output. The many Guyanese living in France are now denied the ability to keep up with news from ‘home’, paying the price for their public servants’ failures.

Should you think my criticism is unfair on tiny French Guyana (population 295,385) for its efforts, six days later I watched the Olympic flame pass through Caribbean island Guadeloupe (population 378,561) where coverage by its own outpost of the state television station ‘La Premiere’ proved absolutely excellent. Somebody there had evidently read and understood the memo.

[Sadly, links here to 'France TV' content may not work outside France.]

[da-ill-spot]

March 2nd | Patchez Circus LA - “Bazaar In The City”

Project 43 | Los Angeles, CA | 10pm-4am | 21+ $15 Pre-Sale

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Hosted by:

Patchez

Syra Cyanide aka Ashley Rose

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Sounds:

DJ $amo

Orphius Jones

DJ Party Dad

Mister Felder

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Dancers:

Ace Exotic

Inten$ity Bankroll

Jiggly Senpai

Lynnja

Phylistine Etienne

Midnight “The MaNniquiN”

Penny

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Fire:

Lady Sinder

Mr. Spinz

Saphir Rose

Sammie Jo

Fine Line

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Live Painting:

Unyenz

Angie Sircuss

NK Abstract

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Music:

$ickboy Mykel

DLabrie

Kahil Sadiq

Nameless Nation

AtomNuke

Mollii G

Oddrocker

Jah Orah

Tee China

Jacket Rashad

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2am-4am Afters:

Bananas

Beat Battery

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Vending:

Mooni Love Crystals & Tarot

LA Joint Fairy

[beatriceduvall]

“WELL I'M A PUT-ON-A-SHOW TYPE OF GAL; DON'T LIKE THE BACK SEAT, GOTTA BE FIRST”

INTRODUCING…

NAME: Beatrice 'Tris' Margot Duvall

GENDER & PREFERRED PRONOUNS: Cis woman (She/Her)

AGE: 23

BIRTHDAY: May 10, 2000

ZODIAC: Taurus Sun, Leo Rising, Cancer Moon

SEXUALITY & ROMANCE: Bisexual / Biromantic

FACE CLAIM: Sabrina Carpenter

OCCUPATION: Singer/Songwriter/Dancer/Soon-to-be Actress

HOMETOWN: Philadelphia, PA

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Santa Moneda, Chile

CHARACTER PLAYLIST: HERE.

UP NEXT: “CIRCUS” BY BRITNEY SPEARS

BIOGRAPHY: tw infidelity

Beatrice was born into a modest household, but always craved more. The glitz and glam that loitered her mother's magazines plagued her small being. It wasn't that she was unappreciative for what she had, but the girl couldn't help but to imagine herself on the covers of Vogue and Cosmopolitan. She danced before she walked, sung before she talked - at least, that's what her parents claimed. There was no avoiding a performance from the blonde. Seeing that she would script Alice in Wonderland whilst gardening with her mother, or turn an everyday chore like washing the dishes into a dance break as if she were in High School Musical 2. Because of this, her parents allowed her to continue dance courses beyond the tiny tots tap and ballet combo, and they began allowing her to be a part of the community theatre troop. Her instructors encouraged her to dance competitively, and between school, the dance competitions and being a part of the community shows, her schedule was enough to make anyone who wasn't passionate burnt out. Lucky for Tris, she was full of passion. She took up guitar and piano from her father, she began to put a melody to her poetry. Her room became a trophy room; every medal, ribbon, trophy, certificate from pursuing her dreams and excelling in the arts adorned the blush pink walls. It was why when she graduated high school, she took a gap year working as a dance instructor for the exact studio who taught her, she was a cam counselor and a waitress - all to save up enough money to head to Los Angeles. Tris worked as a bartender as well as a waitress, living in a rundown apartment with a found friend who shared the same dream. She was expecting something to stick - just one break, but all she hit were dead ends. That was, until her roommate got her to audition to be a part of the Burlesque show that she worked. Tris was hesitant at first, not expecting to get in due to her more-so pure image. What she lacked in seeing, the owners saw as a huge investment. Not only could she sing, but she can dance and she drew attention in such a natural way. Everyone was so easily captivated by her - it was hard to peel your eyes away. Tris became the 'jewel' of the Burlesque scene, drawing people in. Little did she know she would have drawn in a music executive one night. Since then, her world had been flipped upside down. She was finally able to make the art she so craved. Her little cult following on social media doubling overnight. She came out with two albums in a span of a year. Though, she didn't get much attention until a recent relationship wound up on the rocks with a B-lister; the anticipation for her new album at an all-time high. She found herself in Santa Moneda, needing a some new inspiration.

EXTRA-EXTRA, READ ALL ABOUT HER!

Beatrice is a bit of a softy; prone to falling in love at the drop of a hat. It's an inner struggle, truly - seeing that her father's infidelity makes her second-guess her choices in romantic partners. Also, with her Burlesque career, she's just used to people coming and going and using her - so it's kinda just a double-bladed sword honestly; she just wants to find someone who sees the real her as cliche as that sounds. She kinda throws people off since she seems like a diva at surface-level but is actually like a golden retriever. Definitely the sunshine and NOT the midnight rain. Tris is small but mighty, though you won't catch her throwing hands anytime soon; she's very charismatic and knows how to work a room to her advantage. Her words are more a weapon than anything, seeing that she can eloquently drag a bitch if necessary. Tris loves to garden, and is prone to alone time with relaxing activities as opposed to going out when she needs to unwind. Don't let that fool you, though. Tris is definitely the life of a party and you can see her dancing the night away. Tris is bubbly, full of energy and just benevolent to her core. She means well and just wants to live her life to the fullest and bring a little sparkle to everyone else's. She's very well-versed in pop culture and her favorite color is glitter. She has her sad spells, but she can rule the world on the days she's feeling herself. Tends to have a lot of enemies due to being a current "it" girl - attracts drama, honestly.

PERSONALITY:

+ Captivating, Trendy, and Benevolent

- Intense, Flirtatious, and Naive

[roseband]

“Koi” @ FNC Kingdom 2017 (Midnight Circus)

[serenafainx]

༶ ⋆ NEXTGEN : DOROTHEA’S BIO

!! full factsheet HERE ( includes connections and more general info )

full name. dorothea jones faceclaim. simone ashley age. 25 dob. 1 january zodiac. capricorn occupation. performing shows at fantasia theatre (dancer/ensemble)

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:

thick, wavy, flowing black hair. but always tied up in a bun or ponytail. always away from her face.

height is   5' 8½" (1.74 m)

lean build, very athletic

> THEA’S PRESENT:

the jones family were constantly moving between new york and elias, but as dorothea grew older, she found herself staying more in elias. thea stays mainly at her family’s house there, but spends most of her time out anyway <3

she haunts the local dance clubs and has a good nose for the nearest party. she’s known to be quite flirty and devil-may-care. loves to gossip. loves to know people’s business. 

she’s very quiet about her past, and prefers to live in the present. she’s dorothea jones, always has been, so don’t even try and dig into where she came from.

she studied performing arts & communications at walt uni and just finished this year. she now does whatever she wants, is fiercely protective of her family and friends, does auditions for shows all the time, and is currently in whatever musical is playing at fantasia theatre.

> THEA’S HISTORY:

dorothea is from hallow falls. born into the family of the clown with the tearaway face and the harlequin demon. the family hosted hallow falls’ very own cirque du fou. the clown children were trained from birth to be acrobatic, ready for the stage as soon as they could hold themselves upright. they were known for performing death-defying stunts, always on the precipice of a lawsuit. dorothea was as talented as her siblings, but as she grew up, she found herself distracted from the circus and more interested in books and studies. she loved finding new worlds to dive into and started skipping shows and staying out as late as she could. whenever she came home, her father never let her hear the end of it. often, the punishment was forcing her to do the most dangerous stunt, and this has resulted in a lot of injury and scarring for dorothea.

she met serena when the woman visited hallow falls for the first time in almost a decade. upon hearing the news of her father’s death, serena finally visited to handle her father’s estate. a myth had grown in town: of the house of old doctor fain was haunted by his creepy experiments, and the ghost of his dead wife and daughter. everyone was shocked to know serena was alive and well (and a successful costume designer by this time, already married to the famed investigator, freddy jones).

she was curious to know why the myth had spread, and it turns out that there was something happening in old doctor fain’s house. the windows shuddered at midnight, with strange lights streaming through the windows, and high-pitched cries heard during the night. when serena arrived at the house to confront the ghosts, all she found was a clever 13 year old with speakers, makeshift coloured lights, and the gleam of mischief in her eye. dorothea had been squatting at the fain house for months. she would go to perform for her family, scrounging for coins and stealing valuables from the pockets of bystanders, and then go to sleep here.

serena got to know the girl and let her stay. she enlisted dorothea’s help with collecting all of her valuable belongings (which wasn’t much to begin with), and then sorting out trash from potential donations. they chatted, had tea, and serena found herself growing to like the girl more and more. she could see how dorothea enjoyed her company too, and loved hearing how witty she was, with all her unique observations of the world and vivacious energy. serena shared her old books and clothes with her, and also made dorothea new clothes with the fabric she had left at her father’s house.

she stayed at hallow falls for longer than intended, hesitant to leave the girl. while she was there, she tried to make dorothea’s life easier. she bought her books. she spoke with the circus family to try and let them see dorothea’s potential, encouraging them to let her pursue extracurricular activities at school, but she was laughed away. and then they made her stay and watch a performance, roping dorothea into a tightrope act without a net to catch her. serena was horrified, but dorothea survived.

when it was finally time to go, she promised she would be back — and not a week later, she brought her husband with her. together they marched to the circus family, ready to fight for the girl, but dorothea had already beat them to it. dorothea finally convinced her family she was worthless to them, that she would only sabotage the circus if she stayed, and spill all their dirty secrets.

and when she brought forward the adoption papers (with everything but signatures ready) … dorothea was embarrassed, distraught at looking like she was ‘scheming’ this all along. just another manipulator and criminal like her family, and she initially hesitated to come with the joneses. but when serena assured her that nothing else would make her happier than to have dorothea come with her ... that sealed the deal.

[bnbc]

HA/OT LORE

shots made by @blishie

HA/OT: the six girls who blew our minds and stole our hearts.

We’ve been asked to make an article about them for a while, and here it is! So, grab your popcorn and ni-cola cans, and press “read more” to know everything we found out about HA/OT!

Olivia Seong @blishie

Position: Main Vocalist

Zodiac Sign: Libra

Favourite food: Grandma's homemade tteokbokki

Favourite Colour: Purple

Bio:

Born in a corpo family, Olivia ‘Liv’ Seong spent her early 20s being a socialite and influencer. Her music career started when she met Jojo from Velvety Midnight and agreed to record some extra vocals for them.

Velvety Midnight shows became Liv’s ticket to HA/OT’s train. She was spotted and offered the position of the main vocalist of the band.

Vanessa Rosalina Vergara @gloryride

Position: Lead Vocalist

Zodiac sign: Aries

Favourite food: Pozole

Favourite colour: Pink

Bio:

Sometimes talents are born in between debris and trash. Vanessa spent her early years in NC, Heywood district, working hard by day to keep her family going and partying hard by night to relax after hours.

She was found and recruited in one of Night City’s clubs, and thanks to her great dancing skills and beautiful voice became HA/OT’s lead vocalist.

Kou Lin Mendez @bnbc

Position: Main Dancer

Zodiac sign: Sagittarius

Favourite food: Tanuki soba

Favourite colour: Light-blue

Bio:

If you’re familiar with the music industry, you’ve probably heard Kou’s name before. Joining the industry in her early teen years she’s taken part in several projects. Unfortunately, all of them were followed by bad luck.

However, it seems like joining HA/OT has broken Kou’s curse. Now the band’s main dancer has finally found a place to show her impressive skills.

Vesper Jobert @vvizjer

Position: Lead Dancer

Zodiac sign: Capricornus

Favourite food: Organic onion soup

Favourite colour: Blue

Bio:

Joining last, but certainly not least, this HA/OT member entered the band after they'd already debuted but pretty soon took the position of lead dancer.

Vesper got really popular, thanks to her unique look and her amazing flexibility she had gotten by… being a member of a travelling circus. Europeans are so eccentric!

Kim Vora (by MAD HANK)

Position: Main Rapper / Evil Maknae

Zodiac sign: Tauro

Favourite food: Tteokbokki

Favourite colour: Black

Bio:

Kim Vora (known previously as Kim Bora) is a true HA/OT cover girl. She dreamed of becoming an idol since childhood and dedicated her life to fulfilling this dream. She started her career in her early teen years as SM’s trainee and was the most dedicated among her peers.

Kim worked hard on her skills and excelled both in dancing and rapping. She was spotted by HA/OT management team and offered the position of the main rapper.

Vivian Lawson @wingdeer

Position: Visual

Zodiac sign: Gemini

Favourite food: Ramen

Favourite colour: White

Bio:

They say being the face of the band costs no effort: you just have to be pretty. We say: being the prettiest among HA/OT girls is one hell of a job!

But Vivi is certainly more than just a beautiful girl. She’s bright, she’s talented and she’s lovely. Honestly, most of us are her fans but don’t tell anyone, it’s a secret.

________________

As with every successful band, HA/OT is surrounded by an insane amount of rumours, and we investigated some of them especially for you.

1. Liv has been meeting with PI River Ward. Is it a forbidden love story… or something more scandalous?

2. HA/OT’s security chief Goro Takemura has affairs… with two band members at the same time! Unacceptable!

3. “Bodyguard love story”. Vivi and Sandayu, are they a real thing or an attempt at some black PR?

4. Kim’s night visits in the City... What dark secrets could she be hiding?

5. Does Vanessa have a secret boyfriend?..

Subscribe to get access to all the details!

[yournameoverandover]

2022 Book List

The Library Of Legends, Janie Chang (1/29)

Crying in H Mart, Michelle Zauner (2/4)

The Family, Nicole Krupitsky (2/6)

The Summer Place, Jennifer Weiner (2/9)

A History of Wild Places, Shea Earnshaw (2/12)

The Love Hypothesis, Ali Hazelwood (2/12)

The Golden Couple, Greer Hendricks & Sarah Pekkanen (2/14)

The Four Winds, Kristin Hannah (2/17)

The Water Dancer, Ta-Nehisi Coates (2/25)

The Guest List, Lucy Foley (2/26)

Pachinko, Min Jin Lee (3/5)

Conversations with Friends, Sally Rooney (3/6)

Dating Dr. Dil, Nisha Sharma (3/16)

Beautiful World, Where Are You, Sally Rooney (3/19)

Ramón and Julieta, Alana Albertson (3/26)

Britt-Marie Was Here, Fredrik Backman (4/9)

The Cartographers, Peng Shepherd (4/15)

It Ends With Us, Colleen Hoover (4/18)

Verity, Colleen Hoover (4/18)

Kaikeyi, Vaishnavi Patel (4/19)

Beach Read, Emily Henry (4/20)

Ariadne, Jennifer Saint (4/23)

The Night Circus, Erin Morgenstern (4/30)

Tell The Wolves I’m Home, Carol Rifka Brunt (5/21)

Darling Girl: A Novel of Peter Pan, Liz Michalski (5/24)

The Hating Game, Sally Thorne (5/27)

Book Of Night, Holly Black (6/11)

It Happened One Summer, Tessa Bailey (6/13)

Forever, Interrupted; TJR (6/19)

The Stardust Thief, Chelsea Abdullah (6/26)

Lessons in Chemistry, Bonnie Garmus (7/3)

The Kiss Quotient, Helen Hoang (7/4)

In Five Years, Rebecca Searle (7/6)

How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents, Julia Alvarez (7/13)

The Bodyguard, Katherine Center (7/14)

Rules of Civility, Amor Towles (7/23)

Book Lovers, Emily Henry (7/25)

Part of Your World, Abby Jimenez (8/1)

The Proposal, Jasmine Guillory (8/6)

When We Were Bright and Beautiful, Jillian Medoff (8/13)

Pretty Things, Janelle Brown (8/22)

Cloud Cuckoo Land, Anthony Doerr (9/20)

Well Met, Jen Deluca (9/25)

The Bride Test, Helen Hoang (9/29)

The Midnight Library, Matthew Haig (10/2)

The Lost Apothecary, Sarah Penner (10/9)

Love on the Brain, Ali Hazelwood (10/10)

[valeskakingdom]

Request

Jerome met the reader at the circus ... They spend the evening together (well, maybe have sex)? And then the reader leaves Jerome (he gives her his grey coat, what a gentleman) and comes back the next day, only to find out that he killed his mother and is sitting in Arkham. A year goes by (like in the show, I guess?) and the next time the reader meets Jerome, he’s on the bus with the cheerleaders and of course Jerome remembers her! ;) Is that too much? ;-;

Requested by: @valeskaduh

So guys, here's the final part 2 of my one shot. Hope you like it as much as part 1!!

Wordcount: 3510

Here's part 1: "https://valeskakingdom.tumblr.com/post/647442495087820800/request

Warning: mention of murder and violence

Credit: @gotham-swag

It was late, something after midnight already.

You both, Jerome and you, still laid in his bed fully covered in sweat thinking back about what has happened before, all the feelings, the pleasure... Everything.

Your clothes laid strayed on the ground; your underwear laid next to the bed while your shirt and pants laid elsewhere in any corners of his room.

Jerome had wrapped is arm around your waist to comfort you whilst you rested your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat. It was even and slow.

"That was great, wasn't it?" Jerome broke the silence between you with a slight chuckle.

"Indeed," You chuckled "It was worth it."

"It was. Haven't met a girl that could give that good blowjobs."

"Jerome!" You slapped his chest in embarrassment widening your eyes, a strong blush went over face. You were a little shocked about his assertion, but otherwise you felt honored.

"No need to be embarrassed (Y/N)," Jerome chuckled caressing your side "You could see it as a compliment. I'd choose you over others."

"U-uhm...Thank...you? I feel...honored." You mumbled in embarrassment.

"You're cute when you're shy like that." Jerome smirked, sitting up and took a cigarette from his nightstand and lightened it to smoke.

You hummed saying nothing, just gave him a little smile.

You liked it how he called you cute, and that he liked your shyness. It gave you some hope that maybe that this,between you and him, could turn into something more than just a simple one off. All the sweet nothings he whispered into your ear, all the compliments and intensive kisses... That couldn't come just out of nowhere. You had the feeling something was special between you two; you couldn't say what it was though. All you knew was: you felt different in Jerome's near. It was like you two would know each other for ages.

While Jerome was smoking his cigarette off, his smoke spread through the room that you inhaled it. It didn't bother you, you were used to it from home.

You think took your phone out of the pocket of your pants to behold the clock: 00:37

Time for you to go, you needed to get ready in a few hours for your work.

"Anyways, I think it's time for me to go. Need to stand up early," You sighed grabbing your underwear to take them on "You know, work and such."

"Awww really?" Jerome gave you a little pout while admiring your body for one more time "I enjoyed the time with you."

Again he viewed you from head to toe, admired your curves and your flawless pale skin. His view was giving him chills again and he had the urge to touch again. He missed this feeling of your soft skin, this incredible feeling of him inside you making you moan, or the feeling when you dug your nails in his back because he pleasured you well.

"Me too," You giggled and pulled your pants up to buttoned them, then taking your shirt on "But yeah, I don't wanna be late. My boss becomes mad if anyone's late."

"How's your boss when he's mad?" Jerome asked with a certain leery undertone mixed with jealousy.

He looked at you frowning, his breathe became uneven, he kinda seemed to be upset like if you say a wrong word he's about to explode.

It confused you a little, but you didn't give a shit about it. You thought you maybe were just imagining this jealousy. How could he be jealous anyway? He didn't know you at all so he had nothing to loose when you go.

"Let's say you don't wanna mess around with him. He can be a little scary." You took your shirt on. Now though it wasn't as tight as usual anymore because Jerome tugged it from your body.

"Is he touching you?" Jerome gave you a stern look, his tone became rougher what confused you even more.

"Oh no. No, no, he's just yelling and he hears grudges." You turned to him "It's just annoying, that's all."

"Alright," He nodded standing up to take his boxers on "But wait, before you go..." Jerome walked to his wardrobe taking out a dark grey coat handing it to you "Here, it's cold outside."

"Thank you, but you don't-..."

"It's fine, you can keep it," Jerome smiled "See it as a little reward for the gorgeous night." He winked at you making you blush.

"Thank you." You smiled at him taking his coat on. You smelled his cologne, it smelled like any usual cologne but knowing that it was his made it special.

You both walked to the trailer's front door.

Jerome opened the door, you walked a few steps but turned around to face him. With a smile. You looked at his beautiful shining blue eyes for one last time. More and more you recognized that you liked him. You realized that you've never felt this huge amount of comfortableness and happiness. Sure, in an another relationship you've been happy, too, but not as much as with Jerome.

It was strange, very strange. You couldn't understand how you'd be so attached to a stranger. Maybe it was because Jerome was the perfect guy in your eyes and something gave you the feeling that you two belonged together?

"Well, then," you kissed his cheek quickly "See you around, Jerome."

"See you around, (Y/N). Hope to see ya again." One last time, he gave you this amazing smile before he shut the door.

With a little smile you walked out of the circus. You couldn't wait to visit the circus again to meet Jerome and have an amazing time together.

***

Days went by.

You couldn't stop thinking about Jerome - how kind he was to you, how good he treated you, and let's not forget about the sex, of course. The sex was amazing.

Though you still had his coat. You know you couldn't keep it, you wouldn't feel right about it.

Due to different circumstances, the circus was still in your city. On the one hand, you were curious about the reason why. Maybe there were some complications with travelling? Or maybe they did an extra show and had a lot of work to do to prepare for the show?

On the other hand, all your thoughts focused in Jerome. You were excited: you imagined to hug him, talking to him, laughing with him... Everything you wanted to do when you were able to see him again.

You made your way to Haly's circus with Jerome's coat.

As you arrived, everything seemed to be normal. The circus tent was still constructed, the trailers stood still on the same places as on the day where you visited the show, and the artists still walked around the yard.

You looked around to find someone you could talked to and who you didn't bother; then you saw the Ringmaster who was taking his rings to pack them into his case.

He was a tall colored man with some kind of clown makeup: red cheeks. white makeup was smeared around his face and a fake beard was glued on his upper lip. He was wearing a red suit and a black tophat.

"Hey, uhm...excuse me?" You hesitatingly tapped on his shoulder.

"Hm?" He turned to you with a grunt "The circus is closed for visitors. There ain't be a show today."

"Oh, I know but," as the Ringmaster was about to turn around, you grabbed his arm and turned him back to you "I was just looking for Jerome. He gave me his coat a few days ago and I wanted to give it back."

"Oh, haven't you watched the news? Jerome's in Arkham-..." You widened your in shock, you hoped you haven't heard it right.

"Wait, wait, wait...he's what?!"

Arkham?! Has he really said 'Arkham'?! The asylum where murderers, cannibals and other lunatics are living in?! What is he doing there?! Why is he in Arkham?! What has he done to be busted in there?! These were the thoughts that couldn't get out of your head. Jerome was a criminal? How could he?! He was so kind to me, so polite...was that all just acting? Did he play with my mind?

"He killed his mother with a hatchet. You might know her as the snake dancer." He sighed shaking his head slightly while he kept packing the rings in his suitcase "Let's just hope she didn't have a painful death."

"A-alright...t-thank you..." In shook and disgust, you slowly walk back to your car.

You couldn't believe what you've heard. Jerome was a killer: a blood-thirsty, psychotic and cold-hearted killer. You felt poor, you had the feeling you were about to throw up every minute. You slept with him and you liked it...you even wanted to meet him again!

You were disgusted by yourself.

Now you just wished that you could have changed the past; that you've never slept with him, never let him kiss nor touch you...that you've never even talked to him! You just wished that as he bumped into you, that you ignored him or snapped at him that you and himwoukd have never dealt with each other - everything.

***

*1 year later*

It was a rainy and cloudy day in Gotham.

It was cold, your window panes were fogged through the high temperature difference between your room and outside. In your room, it was warm and comfortable while outside it was cold, almost as cold as in winter.

You were just sitting on the couch eating some sandwiches, drinking a Coke in the hope something new and excited happened in your life.

This day was bearing you down, you didn't know why though. Maybe it was just the weather? You had no idea. You just felt empty inside since last year. And you exactly knew why.

You still couldn't believe the fact Jerome was a killer. You couldn't imagine how an actual kind and smart boy with a gorgeous smile, ginger hair, blue eyes and some abs could grab a hatchet to kill his own mother. You just wished it was a lie and that reality played a bad game with you. For sure, you didn't know Jerome completely, you've just met him once but still you could say that this all felt so wrong.

It was the disgust that caused this feeling. You were disgusted by the thought that you allowed a murderer playing with your mind to get in your pants while he was about to murder something behind your back. You were disgusted by the thought that you imagined you and him being a couple, that you wanted to date him... You were disgusted by everything that included him because it reminded you of all this. When you just heard the name Jerome, you felt shivers down your spine and a feeling mixed of disgust and feeling poor.

One thing that confused you was: you couldn't throw his coat in the trash can. You kept it, it hung in your wardrobe and you smelled on it every day because his cologne was still buried in it, then you remembered the gorgeous night you had with him and all the feeling you felt...But then you remembered who he really was and what he has done right after the meeting of you which caused you to close your wardrobe fast and walking out of our room to quickly forget all that - day by day.

Full of boredom, you turned the TV on hoping something could entertain you there.

But then you saw this:

"Hello, Gotham City! We're the Maniax and I'm Jerome, the shot caller of our little gang. We're here to spread the message of wisdom and hope!"

You couldn't believe your eyes. It was Jerome with a bloody nose who cackled shortly, then shot a cop because he coughed and groaned in pain - he apparently disturbed his little show. He was back, he escaped out of Arkham.

Your body was shaking, your breathe was uneven - you were paralyzed.

You started panicking. No place felt safe for you anymore, especially not your little apartment. You needed to be with someone. You thought, when you're alone you'd be fucked. Maybe he remembered you and wanted to look for you? You remembered that he told you, he'd choose you over others. Of course, they could have been just words but now you never know... He was a psycho who might remember everything.

"Some people have no manners." He took a deeper look in the camera "You're all prisoners. What you call sanity, it's just a prison in your minds that stops you from seeing that y'all are a just tiny little cogs in a tiny absurd machine! WAKE UP!"

Jerome yelled in the TV what made you flinch and you curled up in your couch wrapping your arms around your legs tight. Your face was half hidden being your knees that you were still able to watch his little show - but with fear.

"Why be a cog? Be free like us!" Jerome started to cackle "And just remember, smile" he cackled squishing the dead cop's cheek while cackling louder.

Then you heard horns honking, the police was haunting him.

"Oh, time to go!" He crawled down do the ground taking a police head on and still held the camera tight "But dont worry, we'll be back very soon! Hang onto your hats folks, 'cause you ain't see nothing yet!" Jerome cackled insanely but you immediately turned the TV off.

You grabbed your phone fast to call your best friend (Y/bff/n). You needed to be with them. Being alone in a little apartment would just driving you nuts, especially when Jerome was out!

Your best friend was the only one who knew about Jerome being your one off as they knew that Jerome was a killer so they surely understood why you were so scared. You didn't want to risk anything - whether he'd remember you or not, you didn't want to be alone.

Your phone was ringing, you hoped they'd pick up the phone:

(Y/bff/n): hey (Y/n)! Wha-...

(Y/n): Have you watched the news?!

(Y/bff/n): Uhm...no, why? And why are y-...

(Y/n): Jerome's out of Arkham!!

(Y/bff/n): Wait what?! Are you sure it's the Jerome you're thinking of??

(Y/n): he was in the TV...he's planning something... Can stay with you? I can't stay alone. It's driving me nuts. I already have the feeling he's eyeing me from several corners.

(Y/bff/n): Of course! Come over now. We'll get your stuff later.

(Y/n): Thank you! I'm on my way already! See you!

You hung up, immediately taking your jacket, your phone, your keys and some shoes.

You ran out of your apartment, locking your door and walked straight to the next bus station.

You were in a hurry. Outside you didn't feel well at all. You felt being watched, being haunted. You had the feeling Jerome was everywhere and that he just waited the perfect moment to catch you. Everytime someone was walking past you, you felt shivers down your spine and you were scared that any person was a member of 'the Maniax' and kidnap you and bring you to Jerome. You walked faster to the bus station to arrive your best friend's home as fast as possible. You turned your head to the left, to the right, to see whether someone was haunting you. No one did though. It was just your mind.

As you arrived station, the bus came immediately.

You entered the bus as it stopped and chose a seat in the back.Everywhere around you cheerleaders were gossiping, laughing, squeaking about any boy who kissed a friend and such. You instead kept quiet and looked out of the window.

After a few minutes of driving, the bus stopped through a red car from the fire service that blocked its way. Its horns were honking and you could hear someone was getting out of the car.

You saw a ginger guy dancing out of the car on his way to the entrance of the bus. Your heart stopped. Was it Jerome? Was now the moment where you life will end?

He knocked at the door with something, the cheerleaders started to scream.

Something bad will happen now was what you thought while your pulse was running, your sweat was dripping down your forehead, and your hands were shaking. You wanted to cry, you wanted to crawl back in a corner and hope everything will be fine.

Suddenly the door opened, strangers in white suits with guns entered the bus and put us all in handcuffs that were sticker on chains while they pointed their guns at your heads. But for an unknown reason they went out immediately after everyone in the bus was handcuffed.

Cheerleaders were screaming louder, some even started to cry, to son, and to beg for mercy. You instead kept quiet. You couldn't scream. You were in shock and panic, in fear, some tears were already streaming down your cheeks while you tried break free - you failed.

"I want you all to know," you suddenly heard a familiar voice that paralyzed you in shock - he was here "this was a very difficult decision for us. It was between you and uhm... senior citizen bingo party. In the end we decided to skew a little younger. Youth won the day. Sorry." Jerome walked through the bus eyeing each cheerleader girl and pointed his gun at their heads.

With every step he did, you could hear a clicker-clacker caused by his shoes.

Your heartbeat felt like it could explode every minute. You had the feeling you would die soon. More and more tears streamed down your face, you were sobbing in fear, your hands shook uncontrollably. You just wished, you'd come out here alive.

Then Jerome stopped walking, he was eyeing you in surprise and excitement.

"(Y/n)?!" He bended down to you in astonishment completely around him that all the cheerleaders around him were crying and sobbing, and so were you "My, my, my, look at you. You've grown up in that time we haven't seen each other. How you're doing?"

You said nothing, you were just confused about his behavior.

What was wrong with him? Just a few minutes ago he was about to kill us and now he's behaving like an innocent child?! Was what you thought as you just gave him a confused look.

You were still scared though, maybe again he was just playing with your mind as one year ago just to get you?

"It's so good to see you (Y/n), you know that?" He sighed with a smile on his face leaning his elbow against the seat in front of you to lean his head against his hand "I really couldn't stop thinking about you when I was busted in this dirty old shack. The night in my trailer with you...it was marvellous! I still know each part of your body in detail...it brought me many good nights in my cell." Jerome chuckled dark.

You didn't know what to say. Was he about to kill you now? Was it all just a trick again? Do you have to feel honored now that he thought about you every night and jerked off your body?

You stared into his blue eyes, you could tell he was planning something new - and this time it included you.

"Yeah," Jerome kept staring at you with his grin in his face "Anyways, what's new in your life?"

"U-uhm...p-pretty boring...," You sniffed "Nothing has r-really changed since l-last y-year." You stammered feeling odd about having a normal conversation in such an actually dangerous situation.

"Hm..." Jerome hummed flicking his tongue "You know, actually I wanted to splash gasoline all over the cheerleaders and burn them but...now that you are here... I take you with me and THEN I continue my plan." Jerome uncuffed your hands taking them tight and ran with you out of the bus, the other cheeleaders started to scream and cry again and again begged for mercy.

As you and Jerome stood in front the open entrance of the bus, he softly wiped some hair strains behind your ear. With his thumb he caressed your soft skin and wiped all the tears and smeared mascara away.

Jerome smiled at you admiring your face for a while. He looked deep in your eyes, then down to your lips. With a finger snip your fear was gone, the feeling of uncomfortableness faded slowly. Your breathe was uneven though, his personality changes scared you still. Your hands was still trembling, your knees weak. But something told you that you didn't need to be scared of him anymore. He at least safed you.

"From now on, doll, you're mine."

[kashimalin-fanfiction]

L’Éternel Cirque (Chapter 1)

A circus that only opens at nightfall. The same cast performs the acts, no matter how many years have passed. Individuals who once came as children recognize the smile of the lion tamer or the confidence of the acrobats, wondering if they are the same people from all those years ago. But of course, such a feat is impossible – even for a circus.

When a young woman named Elizabeth enters the circus, she is instantly swept up in its enchantment and mystery. But when a strange man pushes her onto a train that can traverse the world and results in her having no way to return home, she finds herself stuck in the company of the circus. Only by befriending the actors and assistants behind the scenes is she privy to learn the secrets behind éternité – and finally leave the circus.

[Inspired by and fused with the world and aesthetic of The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern. Content spoilers for the book are not present.]

...

This fanfiction is also part of the Ikemen Vampire Big Bang, a fic-and-art fandom collaboration event! Find out more about the event itself and the set-up on Tumblr @ikevampbigbang​!

A young woman enters the circus without expectation.

It is a brisk Sunday evening, and the sudden appearance of a circus had been the talk of the town. Some who lived nearby insisted it was magic – an empty field one moment, a fantastical circus erected the next. Nobody had seen the bold colorful tents rise or heard any indication of the construction that must have happened to build the mighty golden fence around the premises.

Previous visitors to the circus and patrons from out of town follow it, swapping stories of their favorite acts and tents. But when the young woman attempts to ask for recommendations – as it will be her first time attending – she is met with refusals accompanied by slight smiles.

Their only advice is: “You should experience the circus for yourself.”

And when she walks into the circus, she finds herself grateful that she listened to their words of wisdom.

Every corner brings about some new fantastical wonder. There are forest-green tents as tall as the highest trees that house acrobats and dancers. A lion tamer dressed in an elegant red and black tames his namesake beast, his dashing smile eye-catching even from afar. The air tastes as sweet as the popcorn and caramel apples she purchases, happily eating them as she continues her spiraling journey.

When it draws close to midnight, she must return to the realm she came from, beyond the tents and spectacles locked behind their gilded fence. When she sleeps, she dreams of the circus. When she works, visions of the acts repeat in the back of her mind.

She returns three more evenings over the next five days.  

On her final night, she chooses to wander the circus and admire it from the outside in. Whispers from crowded lines to more popular tents and wistful murmurs from patrons next to her lamented the fact that the circus would be gone by the following morning. It never stayed longer than a week. So with her remaining hours, she only has the time to experience the finest of what the circus has to offer, and wants to take her time deciding.

By walking between the multi-colored tents, rather than inside them, the woman gains a newfound appreciation for the little touches placed upon the circus. She finds foods she has never tried before, missing what the vendor says when they explain the trick to crafting such delicately powdered, doughy delicacies – but they taste of cinnamon and chocolate and remind her of fond family memories.

While meandering down one particularly winding path lined by tents of silver and blue, a statue still as glass catches her attention for a moment. A blond-haired man stands before the pedestal, a sketchbook in hand as he stares up at the figure. He does not pay the woman any mind as she stands a few steps away, his scarf billowing in the light breeze. His full attention is on the living artwork before him. She takes the time to admire it alongside him, thinking that the craftsmanship on the statue is beautiful.

Her jaw drops when the statue then makes the slightest movement, and she realizes that the figure is breathing, just barely. The man is seemingly captivated by the change, furiously sketching something out on an already-crowded page, his stained fingers not minding the smudges they leave in other places.

He is still there when she decides to leave and head deeper into the circus.

A fortune teller’s tent catches her curiosity, but she decides against it, deciding that it was foolish – all she could think to ask is how soon she could return to the circus again.

(If she had entered, she would find that the answer would be “much sooner than expected.”)

One tent finally draws her in. It is golden in shade, the fabric a soft shimmer against the hanging lights about the circus. Where other signs might list the acts performed inside or show times, this one is simple:

Illusionist.

It is a single word, and yet it draws her in nonetheless. She enters the tent, an intimate space with a semicircle of chairs facing a single raised platform that is empty on all sides with no curtains to speak of. Twelve of the fifteen seats are taken. She takes the one on the end, leaving another open next to her.

Two men enter a minute later, their conversation dying at a hush from the taller, dark-haired one. The young woman glances back at the sound, and she catches the way the shorter, pink-haired one freezes for a moment and grabs the coat of the taller man, gesturing to the two remaining seats. Before the woman can rise to offer to move, the taller man shakes his head and urges the other to take the seat on the other side alone. When he comes to sit by her, he murmurs a polite apology in a language she does not catch before sitting down.

Then, she blinks.  

It is a mistake that she did. For one moment, there is nobody on the stage. In the next, a man stands upon it. He is dressed in black with glided gold accents on his coat and vest, matching both his fine hair and the fabric that makes up the tent around them. As he steps forward and gives the audience a single, low bow, unseen lights dim overhead. Only a single, solitary spotlight remains, trained on the illusionist.

[Art by @beni-draw-ikemen-please​]!

His performance from there on can only be described as miraculous.

He produces doves from thin air, no cages or boxes in sight. When he throws a small cloth into the air, a shower of glitter passes over the audience, but no evidence of the sparkling flecks remain on anybody’s hair or clothes.

Playing cards fold themselves into hearts and stars, flying about the room without restraint before suspending themselves in a makeshift backdrop behind the stage. Other cards find their way into audience members’ hands, before turning into something else when handed back to the illusionist – the woman’s is transformed into a string of rainbow-hued handkerchiefs, while the man next to her has his made into a fountain pen that is then seemingly crushed into a cascade of ink. It does not stain the illusionist’s white gloves.

The performance concludes when the room is as empty as it started, with only the illusionist and his audience before him. He casts a sidelong glance towards the lady – or perhaps to the man next to her, she is not sure – and smiles knowingly before bowing deeply towards those gathered in his tent.

Then, his feet slowly start to turn gold. It takes a moment for the woman to realize that the illusionist is disintegrating before her eyes, dissolving into a fine golden dust that climbs up his still-bent body.

When he is nothing but a tidy pile on the platform, the lights turn on once more. The act has concluded.

The lady stands immediately, hesitantly stepping up to the stage with a few other audience members. She does not dare to reach across the unspoken, unseen barrier that separates actor from audience, but studies the powder that litters the stage. As a couple people turn away, the air shifts and causes a few specks to sift away from the pile.

She wonders, briefly, if that means the man will never be whole again.