#We are Robin suggested Lark and I could see him being friends with them in this au

[aingeal98]

If Duke had no real knowledge of the bats or influence from batman and robin, but chose to become a hero anyway once he got powers, what would he choose as his codename?

[crowbarstodd]

Course Of Nature (4)

Chapter Summary: *banging pots together* DAMINETTE! DAMINETTE! Word Count: 3,272 Rating: G Paring: DAMINETTE!

Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five |

Rena Rogue gagged as soon as she opened an aging door, hands covering her nose and mouth as she took a large step back. “This place stinks!”

Marinette felt inclined to agree with Rena Rogue, nose wrinkling as a foul stench invaded her nostrils, so strong her eyes stung from unshed tears. “You’ll have to get used to it,” Marinette said regretfully, “we’ll be spending some time here.”

Rena moaned, edging inside carefully, nose still pinched between two fingers.

The little off-white townhouse they’d been sent to investigate in Paris’ nineteenth arrondissement was almost charming at first sight. It sat trapped between a high fence marking the end of the street, and a baby-pink, connecting unit with a strip of green at the front only just large enough to fit a few common elder hedges.

The place itself was only slightly overrun by weeds, not enough to appear unseemly, which was probably why it was left alone by most of the unsuspecting neighbours. Marinette herself would have overlooked it completely had it not been for the large mold stain on the bottom right side of the door, and the putrid stench that coated the home. Oh, and the mission sent by Batman and Master Fu.

The inside was drowned in dust and rust, and none of the lights would turn on, so she and Rena resigned themselves to exploring the place with the limited light their torches provided.

“This is literally the worst villain hideout. Unhygienic and unaesthetic is what this place is,” Rena griped, searching through shelves for anything that looked mildly useful.

“There’s no proof this was a hideout. Just that Queen Bee sent a package here about two months ago.”

Rena stopped in her tracks. “Queen Bee? Like, Chloe?”

“No, like the politician.”

“Are you being sarcastic?”

Marinette sighed, tilting her head to the sky, eyes shut. “I thought Chat gave you a debrief?”

“Sure, but he didn’t use any names. Just said that another villain sent a package probably for Hawkmoth.”

Wily cat, making her do all the annoying jobs. She’d get him neutered the next time she saw him. “Queen Bee is a corrupt Bialyan leader, part of the light.”

“So not Chloe?”

“Not Chloe,” Marinette confirmed.

“What do we call Chloe then?”

Tired of the conversation, and without any real answers to give, Marinette returned to searching the room for clues. “Call her whatever you want, Rena.”

“Bitch it is!”

“No.”

She zoned out Rena’s following playful whinges, focused on the wooden desk that sat alone in the otherwise empty room connected to the living room that Rena was investigating.

With careful hands she pulled the drawer of the desk open, worrying her lip as her heart pumped with excitement. Where else would one keep a package but their desk?

It was empty.

Disappointed, she shut it closed, only to hear Rena’s resounding shriek.

The living room was a mess of white.

An upturned milk bottle appeared to have fallen from atop the cupboard above the stove. It must have been balancing precariously already, relying on the shut door for stability, and tipping over when Rena pulled the cupboard open.

She stood in the center of the kitchen, an orange lighthouse in a sea of white, utterly drenched, and completely miserable.

In her hands, Marinette spotted something promising.

“Is that a USB?”

“Are you okay Rena? That sucks for you Rena, but don’t worry too much about it,” Rena muttered, peeved.

Marinette scratched the back of her head and let out an awkward laugh. “Sorry. You alright, Rena?”

“I’m drenched in milk, LB. But I found a USB and I managed to keep it dry.”

Marinette cheered under her breath, getting closer to inspect the gadget. It was a simple single-toned grey stick, made by LexCorp. “Only four gigabytes?” She mused aloud, expecting something more monumental.

Rena paid her no mind, wringing her hair over the sink, and yelping when the water that poured out of it was brown in colour. “Ugh, I should have just let Chat take this mission,” Rena grumbled. “Might have even enjoyed the milk.”

Marinette shrugged, a lazy smile painting her face. “I don’t think anyone’d enjoy an unexpected milk-bath, Rena, even silly kitty’s like him.”

Rena shook her leg clean, watching with wry eyes as droplets splashed onto the floor. “You always call him Kitty or Chaton,” Rena commented. “It’s kind of cute.”

If it was Carapace saying it, Marinette wouldn’t have batted an eye, but Rena was sort of pushy, and undeniably not-so-secretly interested in Ladybug’s (love) life. Marinate could see the teasing glint in Rena’s eyes and hear the mischief in her voice, enough to get what she was suggesting.

“Yes I do,” Marinette agreed. “Because we’re partners.”

“You don’t have nicknames for me!”

Marinette raised a brow. “You’re not my partner,” she sung.

Rena pouted, jutting her bottom lip out dramatically enough that for a second, Marinette saw her mask disappear and make way for her best friend who she knew was behind it. She’d never say it aloud, lest it encourage her friend’s more dangerous habits (running headfirst into attacks without a mask or protection) but Alya’s determination and vivacity had always been qualities that Marinette admired. That, and how lush her thick locks always seemed to be.

“What about your new partner then? Lark?”

Marinette snorted. Guess Alya held some second-hand anger on her boyfriend’s behalf after all. “You mean Robin?”

Rena rolled her eyes, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “Yeah sure, Robin.”

“What about him?”

“Well if not Chat, then?” Rena trailed off, but Marinette was sharp enough to know what she’d been suggesting.

Involuntarily, her cheeks burst bright red. Memories of last night that she’d tried so hard to forget — moonlight, a surprising confession, and lips —nope! She shook the thoughts out of her head, bringing her hands to her cheeks in an attempt to cool them down.

“Oh my god! Girl!”

“N-no!” Marinette stuttered out, adamant to explain things before Rena got the complete wrong idea. “It’s not like that! I don’t like Robin! Not even in a friend way!”

“Clearly not in the friend way! Girl, does he know?”

Stupid Robin. Stupid dumb Robin and his stupid dumb lips and their stupid dumb conversation and the terrible, awful, cringe-inducing, stupid-dumb ending to last night! “No! Alya!”

“What happened to no secret identities on the field? I don’t even know yours so you’ve got an advantage there.”

“I don’t think that’s the point, Rena.”

“You’re right,” she agreed. “The point is are you gonna tell him?”

“No, there’s nothing romantic happening at all!”

Knowing better than to push when Marinette was sure she looked ready to explode, Rena simply wiggled her brows cheekily and returned to searching for hints. “Okay LB,” she said as she passed, patting Marinette on the shoulders almost patronisingly.

Marinette had to bite her lip to prevent a scream.

Perusing the little unit was much less eventful than either of the two girls expected, and in the end, they found nothing of use apart from the single USB stick that Rena had risked milk-dousing for.

“Literally the worst hour of my life,” Rena commented, inhaling deeply when they finally locked the rotting door behind them. “Never again.”

“You okay to get the USB to Master Fu by yourself?”

“Sure thing Ladybug. You go ahead and get your Z’s, you’ve got patrol tomorrow night as well.”

Marinette moaned at the reminder. Damn, and she was getting excited to make a new dress-shirt too.

—————————————

School the next day was interesting, to say the least. The class was abuzz, all gravitating around Chloe’s desk where she was sat bragging (no surprise there) about some celebrities her dad’s hotel was hosting.

“The Waynes are ridiculously famous and important,” the blonde said, leaning back against her chair as if she didn’t care at all. (She cared very much, and wasn’t as good an actress as she thought she was, Marinette noted.) “Bruce Wayne is like, the most eligible bachelor, and he brought three of his sons with him!”

“Three?” Marinette mumbled under her breath, taking her seat beside Alya. “Why does she say it like he has more?”

“He has five,” Alya supplied helpfully, flashing her a smile in greeting.

Soon enough Alya’s head was down, and her chemistry notes were out, but it was obvious that she was paying more attention to what Chloe was saying than what was on her page, but a tad too prideful to admit to herself that Chloe had anything of particular worth to say.

Chloe’s voice was loud enough that Marinette could join her friend in pretending to overhear, rather than listen to the blonde. “They’re going to be staying at my daddy’s hotel for two weeks,” she boasted.

“Wow Chloe, that’s so cool!” Rose awed. Even from the other side of the room, Marinette could stars forming in her eyes. It was like Prince Ali all over again. “I’d love to meet them! I heard the Wayne foundation helps hundreds of people every year, and that Dick Grayson is nice to everyone!”

She nudged Alya lightly with her elbow. “Dick Grayson?”

“Eldest son, I think.” Was Alya’s simple reply.

Chloe sneered, “someone like him would want nothing to do with you.”

“Well, I’m going to say hi anyway!” Rose replied hotly, learning from last time. Her chest puffed out in pride, leaving her to look like a bright pink penguin, but Marinette was happy for her. It looked like she wasn’t going to let Chloe talk her down anymore.

Chloe opened her mouth, probably to dish out an insult, but straightened as if remembering something important. “Fine,” she said instead. “Do what you want.”

Alya raised a brow and made a face that looked to a cross between impressed and disbelieving.

In a weird way, Marinette felt almost proud. Sure, each awful word out of Chloe’s mouth gave her some sort of vindication (who doesn’t love being right?) that always lead to her feeling guilty, but every time Chloe acted politely, against Marinette’s expectations, she was being influenced by Ladybug. There was something humbling about seeing her impact on the small scale, however minute it was.

“Will you all come with me?” Rose asked, wide eyes directed at the girls of the class.

Don’t look, Marinette urged herself. The moment she looked into Rose’s big Bambi eyes she’d be gone, and however much she loved Rose she needed to go to bed before patrol that night.

“Please?”

“Sure thing, Rose!” Alya agreed. “Marinette and I’d be happy to come.”

Raising her head to refute Alya, Marinette found herself staring right into Rose’s baby blues. Crap. “Yeah Rose, I’d love to come!”

Marinette’s mouth moved faster than her mind, and by the time she’d realised what she had done it was far too late. Rose had already turned to ask Alix.

God, if only Rose was a tablespoon less cute.

(“You’re going to see Dick Grayson? Can I come? I love Dick Grayson!

“Sure, Kim!”)

—————————————

Dick Grayson really was nice to everyone he met, and it didn’t take long for Marinette to understand why all of Paris seemed to swoon over him.

He was charming, had eyes bluer than blue, and a smile that looked so familiar, Marinette could have sworn she’d seen it directed at her before. Really truly, he was great. But all she could focus on was the screaming that was happening somewhere further down the hotel that nobody else seemed to care about.

Marinette inched backwards until she was out of sight, bolting down the nearest corridor, following the sound the best she could.

Tikki peeked out from inside her bag, gazing at her with questioning eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to transform, Marinette? It doesn’t sound very good.”

“I just wanna check first, Tikki. It might not be an attack.”

It wasn’t one. What she’d mistaken for innocent lives threatened by some Akumatised being was, in fact, two boys screaming at each other in the hotel hallway. Or rather, one boy screaming as the other responded, just as heated, but not as loud.

“You will regret this, Drake!” The shorter boy seethed at the other, who stood across from him, clearly unimpressed, back slouched and left hand in his corduroy pants.

The taller one, Drake, raised his hands in apparent frustration. “It’s a room. You’ll just have to settle with sharing with Jason.”

“I had the room with Grayson first. Return it immediately!”

“You sound like a brat.”

The shorter boy huffed, launching a well-aimed kick at the taller boy’s head, which he somehow managed to block, hand still in his pocket. “Your attack will be returned tenfold,” the shorter one announced, leaving ‘Drake’ alone at last. Marinette squeaked as he walked in her direction, slipping around the corner as his eyes narrowed.

He didn’t seem to care though, walking out of the hotel without another look back.

Concerned about a potential Akuma victim, she trailed after him.

She felt childish to have been lulled in such an obviously false sense of comfort, but she was genuinely surprised when he disappeared from her sight after exiting the hotel, only to reappear behind her. He had one hand around both her wrists, keeping her from fighting back with her arms.

“What business do you have following me?”

Marinette spluttered, struggling not to let her eyes dart to her bag in concern as she felt Tikki’s concerned shudder. “I was just making sure you were okay!” Marinette insisted. “I just didn’t want you to get akumatised!”

He let go of her wrists, but his eyes were still in slits, and his knees were bent as if ready to bolt at any given chance. “Explain yourself,” he demanded.

He was pretty snooty if Marinette was being honest, but she supposed she’d be paranoid too if someone was following her. “If you get too upset, Hawkmoth will be able to use you to destroy the city,” Marinette explained, omitting some important parts about certain Miraculous’. It was weird he didn’t know any of this yet. “Are you new here or something?”

The boy sniffed in disdain. “My family landed here this morning.”

This morning…

Marinette gave his outfit a quick once-over.

Black skinny jeans; Givenchy, black shoes; Armani, Burberry jacket, and Wayne-Tech watch. Wayne tech phone peeking out from his pocket too… Rose was going to be so jealous.

(His target-brand Nightwing t-shirt confused her, though.)

“You must be a Wayne!” Marinate exclaimed, extending her hand to greet him. “I’m Marinette.”

He looked at her hand with a raised brow.

He didn’t move until her face shifted into a glare. “Damian.”

He was a little rough around the edges, but he was also mad, and she wouldn’t be Ladybug if she left some innocent person alone to be akumatised. “Nice to meet you, Damian. Do you like ice-cream?”

“I’m not fond of sweets.”

“I’ll find something for you.”

She grabbed his wrist, ready to tug him along, when he snatched his hand right out of her grip. “Unhand me!” He bellowed, looking angry again. Marinate wanted to slap a hand on her forehead, feeling idiotic for upsetting him even further.

“I’m not going to do anything weird, I promise. I just want to take you to my family’s bakery, get you some tea or something to calm you down.”

He looked on the verge of protest, but she must have said something right because he deflated soon after. “Some tea would be acceptable.”

They sat across from each other on the table nearest to the front window, seats comfortably cushioned with little round pillows that were decorated with flowers; one of Marinette’s own creations.

The bakery was one of her favourite places in the world. Little personal splashes made the place warm, from the cushions she’d made, the three small tables on the right side of the bakery for inside dining that she’d suggested herself, and the small red stain on the underside of the front counter that she’d created by spilling dye while making red-velvet cupcakes. She and her mom had spent almost an hour trying to remove any traces of it, but that little mark, shaped like a coma, was far more stubborn than either of them.  

He liked rice tea, she learned. Rice tea and plum dacqouise.

Well, he never said he liked plum dacquoise, but he clearly didn't dislike plum dacquoise. Her dad had asked if he’d like anything else with his tea, and when he looked to her for suggestions, there was one thing she couldn’t not recommend.

“I’d like the Marinette,” he’d said, voice frank. Her heart had pounded at how the sentence sounded, but she didn’t correct him or mention it in case it’d embarrass him. He wasn’t a native speaker after all, so it was impressive enough he could maintain a conversation and order all on his own.

“It’s my favourite cake,” she informed him after his first bite. He replied with a ‘hn.’

Easy silence befell them as Damian sipped his tea, looking out the window with slight interest. She was eating his cake, well her cake that he bought, content to sit in silence, appreciating how he simply nodded her way when he caught her, not too miffed at her eating his food. “Did you come here for a holiday?” She asked, striking up a conversation.

He tilted his head to the side, thinking. The bright lights seemed to highlight his jawline perfectly, because Marinette couldn’t stop her eyes from trailing downward. “For business mostly, but I suppose Gra— my brother might consider this a holiday.”

“Must be nice to have so many siblings.”

Damian huffed, folding his arms the way Alya’s younger sisters did when they heard something they didn’t like. “They’re not my siblings.”

“You just said you had a brother though?”

Damian spluttered, mouth moving as he protested mutely, unable to come up with a convincing response. “It’s not fun,” he said instead, replying to her initial comment.

Marinette smiled behind her hands at his petulant behaviour, not yet brave enough, or close enough to him to laugh at him to his face. “I wouldn’t know,” she shrugged. “I’m an only child.”

“I was too, once.” Damian’s eyes had a misty quality to them that Marinette wasn’t sure she wanted to touch on. Instead, she latched on to what felt like the only tangible part of what he said.

“Are you adopted?”

Damian all but hissed, leaning over the table to exclaim his response. “I’m the blood heir! The rest of them were adopted!”

She leaned back into her seat, surprised by his outburst.

Prepared to spend the rest of the hour suffering in heavy silence, Marinette was almost grateful to see a large, thorn breaking through the bakery window, engraving itself deep into the floor.

It shook the building down to its foundations, leaving the counter and the cakes it displayed utterly obliterated. Marinette coughed, inhaling a lungful of dust and debris caused by the projectile, wheezing out a breath. Her heart thrummed as she readied herself for a battle.

“I have to go!” She and Damian said in sync. She let him leave, expecting his worry for his family, and preoccupied with planning how to get to the Akuma.

Marinette let out a quiet “sorry,” as she trapped her parents in the back room, locking the door on them so they would be safe without noticing her absence.

“Tikki, spots on!”

End Notes: hhhhhhhhh so this is actually only half of my original plan for chapter 4 so I guess you can expect chapter five soon. I was so excited for the fight but chapter 4 got so long and I felt that the fight deserved it’s own chapter and I didn’t want too many events in one chapter because it’d feel too cluttered oh man.

But also! Daminette!!!!! 

Classic Bruce gets there secret identities to arrive later than their hero ones to avoid suspicion. We got our first peek at Tim, and a mention of Jason. If anyone’s wondering why Chloe only mentioned three sons,,, Jason’s legally dead so ye theres that. 

Daminette!!! They met!!!!!!!!! For those curious, his acceptance of tea was thanks to his appreciation of Alfred. Daminette!!! 

Things to look forward to next chapter: Akuma fight!!! Addressing the ‘Queen Bee’ situation completely, kind of addressing what happened the night damian stormed of jealous and MORE maridami goodness. (Is it obvious how much I love chapter 5 and how much I wanna get it DONE?

Tag List:

@just-rant-and-write-fic-idea @kceedraws @mystery-5-5 @2sunchild2 @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @treebrosha @mooshoon @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @aarushi-03 @ladylb @crazylittlemunchkin @kurogaya913 @ki117h3dr4g0n @xxmadamjinxx @sidefrienda @7-sage-7 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @felicityroth @tritaledkitsune @constancetruggle @creator-josie @theatreandcomicfreak @northernbluetongue @yin-390

Feel free to ask to be tagged/untagged!

[daggerzine]

Tony Potts of The Monochrome Set gives us the details! (interview by Steve Michener)

I started writing a weekly post on Facebook about two years ago, wherein I would pick a song from the extensive catalog of The Monochrome Set and write a few words, trying to hep people to their fantastic music. It became a fun, online conversation with friends and fans and the band would sometimes join in, adding to the story or correcting my (frequent) historical errors.  I was presenting myself as a TMS scholar when I was really just a doofus with a love for the music. The FB feature eventually led to my volunteering to drive the band on the West Coast swing of their recent US tour, which was a total blast. 

 Recently, I came up with the idea of interviewing various members of the band and when I initially hit upon this plan, the first person I thought of was Tony Potts, their early ‘5th member.'  Tony added another dimension to the band’s early shows by projecting films onto screens (and sometimes the band), helping to differentiate the band in the crowded post-punk music scene of the late 70s/early 80s England. I never personally saw any early TMS shows so I missed out on his contributions until last year when  I attended the TMS 40th anniversary shows in London and got to experience his visuals along with the music (albeit from a laptop now instead of a Super 8 film). I’ve always been intrigued by his role with the group and he was nice enough to answer some of my email questions about the early days of the band, his art, and, of course, his favorite TMS song. Tony’s Facebook page is one of the most entertaining around; he doesn’t hold back much, whether it’s about his cancer diagnosis, politics, or the state of the Great Western Railroad. TMSF and now Dagger Zine present the Weird, Wild and Wonderful World of Tony Potts!

That’s Tony far right  

 Q: How did you come to be involved with the Monochrome Set? What drew you to them and them to you?

 Ah, now there are two answers to this question. The first is terse and accurate, although less interesting than the second. Well, I knew John, J.D. Haney. That's the terse answer. However, in the interests of interest, and name-dropping, we have to travel back to about 1974. The story illustrates I think, how our lives are built upon great swaths of happenstance.

While studying on my pre-degree arts foundation I became close friends with Edwin, later Savage Pencil, who later still formed The Art Attacks. After some itinerant drummers, including Ricky Slaughter of The Motors, and Robert Gotobed of Wire, JD became the Art Attacks drummer. Now, Edwin didn't know him, so I can only guess, at this great distance, that I put his name forward. But again, we must spool back in time. How did I know John? After Edwin left for London, and still at my provincial art school, I became good friends with two fellow student artists like myself, Andy Palmer and Joy Haney. They both became founder members of Crass, under the names N A Palmer and Joy De Vivre, and are now exceptionally good fine artists.

It was through my friendship with Joy that I meet her brother, the aforementioned JD, when he came down from university in the summer of '76. We hung out with his college chum, Jean-Marie Carroll, later to join The Members, and discussed narrow neckties and casual trousers. Then Joy, Andy, and I went off to the Greek islands for the summer, before returning to London to take up our degree course at Chelsea School of Art.

Thus it was, with us all now in London, that I believe I introduced JD to The Art Attacks, with whom I worked until their demise, at which point JD took up with TMS. Due to mutual creative interests in art, I was invited to display my films at their gigs. That was late '78, with my first gig with the band being at Acklam Hall, Notting Hill, on 22nd February 1979. Thereafter we fell together and I started to make films specifically for the live shows. It’s worth pointing out that the TMS was not formed in an art school, or by art students. It is lazy journalism that perpetuates the Art School band epithet. Both Bid, the main song writing power behind the longevity of the band, and the other key lyricist, JD Haney, have never been anywhere near an art school.

 Q: What were your films like? Who were your art-school influences at the time? What were you doing with the Art Attacks?

 I was studying fine art painting, and painting was my main interest. Although I loved films, I never expected to move in that direction. As a painter, I was a devotee of the Russian Constructivists like Tatlin, but mostly the geometric forms of El Lissitzky, and the Suprematist Kazimir Malevich - best known for Black Square and White On White. My paintings were an amalgam of geometric forms in the vein of Lissitzky on grounds inspired by Malevich's painterly surfaces. With the rise of the Punk movement in London, I somewhat changed direction, moving into filmmaking that had a quasi-narrative style, intended to be more emotional and poetic. Although driven by what was happening in music during ‘76/'77/'78, ironically, my films couldn't be any less punk if I tried. Well, not to punks anyway. These days I regret that I never resuscitated my painting practice.

At the time of the Acklam Hall gig, I had made one large scale Super8, and two 16mm works. I think it must have been 'Strange Meeting', which in part was about aliens and The Red Army Faction murders, which we showed at that gig, but as a support. I had previously made some other 8mm films, and I might have used them during the band, but I can't recall. However, I now have vague memories of projecting B & W film over the whole stage and band. With The Art Attacks, I didn't have a creative role, I just supported the band in rehearsal and at gigs with Paul Humphries their manager, and the initial manager of TMS. Paul, JD and I all shared the same squat in Brailsford Road, Brixton. So, with TMS I had something more creative to do.

 Q: For those of us who weren't able to see those shows, describe for us what you were doing with the films during the shows. How were the films received by the audience?

 As I said, initially I used the films that I had made in another context, and they were added to the performance to create an overall ambiance, a statement of presentation that was not about a band energetically leaping about on stage, as was the order of the day. Soon I started to make Super8 material specifically for TMS performances. This included the scratched and bleached footage for 'Lester Leaps In', or images filmed on the road, like the Berlin footage used for ‘Viva Death Row’, or staged material of the band getting up to also sorts of antics, like the beach ball larks and bits of animations I would make with no specific aim. In the early days, I made two roller blind screens in long boxes, [we took them on the first two US tours] with one on either side of the stage as space allowed, with film projected onto them so the band members were often in silhouette, although it bled onto them also. The stage was very dark, lit by blue footlights, which I made. I think Mark Perry of Sniffing Glue/Alternative TV said something like it was the most brilliantly depressing thing he had seen. That was always the irony at that time, the music was pert and poppy and uplifting, but the show wasn't. What a laugh, we all thought.

 The shows became increasingly more elaborate with more screens, more projectors and a theatrical lighting rig. At this time we were using Ground Control, Bowie's original PA, run by a lovely guy called Robin Mayhew. Using the theatre lights allowed me to focus and shape controlled beams of light exactly where I wanted them. For example, I could just illuminate Bid's face or other small areas with geometric shapes, while leaving the stage largely unlit. Then the film screens could glow and flicker in the dark. The lads tended not to move a great deal. A tradition assiduously upheld by Mr. Warren.

 As to reception, well some people liked it, and others couldn't see the point. I think it mostly worked as a spectacle, an integrated whole, a total experience, but for those just into the music, it was probably irrelevant. I mean, they are a great band, so nobody missed me when I didn't set up, like at the M80. That stage was toooo big, man.

Bid and Tony 

 Q; As the 'Fifth Member' whose focus seemed to have been on the live performances, how did you fit in with the band in the recording studio?

 Yes, my key role was the live performance; anything else was a bonus for me. I was at all recordings from the second Rough Trade single to the end of the second album, as an enthusiastic supporter and admirer. Of course, I chipped in with the odd suggestion or noise and was probably ignored where and when necessary. Being musically incompetent, my timing is off by a good margin so I'm not sure my handclaps ever made a final mix. You can hear me on TWWWWofTP. I've got quite a pleasant singing voice, also, just not in public. Bid once marked out the chord changes for Ici Les Enfants on a plastic organ I had, to fill out the live sound, but after the first chord change, I was lost and bewildered.

 Q: You've done promotional videos for the band. Can you talk about a few of those projects? Do you have a favorite video?

 The first promotional film I made was the one for Dindisc, and called Strange Boutique, not after the title of the first album as many think, but coincidentally, after the name of a pair of corduroy trousers! Actually, that may not be true. So, this was conceived as a short film, with two songs and a Rod Serling type piece to camera as a linking devise. Done on the very cheap. Unfortunately, there were syncing issues with some of the dialogue and the master got damaged, scratched, and I'm not sure if I still have the original film, or not. It's on our DVD as a complete piece as far as I remember, but it turns up on YouTube, usually cut down to either of the two songs LSD and Strange Boutique, without all the linking material.

We then waited a long time until I was commissioned by WEA to make the promo for 'Jacob's Ladder' with the release of 'The Lost Weekend' album. The deal was negotiated from a public phone box on Clapham Common tube station. It was somewhat compromised by cock-ups at WEA which meant I was forced to hand it over before it was fully edited to my satisfaction. I seem to have made a style out of technical imperfections; at least that's what I'm saying. At the time Top of the Pops had a video preview section, and a short clip of Jacob's Ladder was shown. That’s primetime TV, folks!

And then, of course, I was delighted when Bid asked me to make the official MaisieWorld video for ‘I Feel Fine’, which I was very pleased with. All these projects were very personal to me, not just the execution of a job, and the first two were part of my life at the time of making.

 Q. The only footage I've seen of you actually playing with the band is the Old Grey Whistle Test TV spot. Was it common for you to join the band onstage?

 Well, I was usually visible on stage, controlling the projectors, which needed constant manipulation, like a DJ scratching, changing speed and switching images, fading and mixing. Also, there might be some little set piece we had devised, which required me to do something. At one point, during the Ground Control days, I remember I had my own mic so I could interact with the stage, which didn't last that long. So, to some extent, I always had a relationship with the stage as both performer and technician. Once, when Lester Square had had enough, I did perform the encore, He's Frank, by incessantly plucking one string of his guitar. Pretty good, actually! Music and Maths very similar to my mind, no sooner do I believe that I have mastered the execution of some small calculation, but I soon discover that I haven't.

Don’t shake the ladder, Tony gettin’ down to work. 

Q: Tell us about your film education and your career in film and video outside the band.

 I made a living of sorts working commercially in film and video production, and teaching, but as I mentioned before, I actually trained in fine art. My art foundation took a very academic approach and involved copious hours of life drawing and other drawing classes, while being given time to develop one's own particular discipline and style.

I made one Super8 film based on geometric elements in my painting. I had made three other 8mm film before this. It wasn't until I was on my degree course that I started making more moving image work, but this stemmed from a fine art perspective, so I didn't ever have any film school type training. My own work I would categorise as poetic experimentalism, that is under the general umbrella of artist film and video. Just a reminder that you can catch up with lots more detail of everything I've said at my website, http://tonypottsloopform.altervista.org. Although it has all the history of the films and staging, as well as the making of Jacob's Ladder, it's rather old and not up-to-date. That site includes all the art projects I've worked on, the history of TMS film, and my own films. My creative life can be divided into three separate but overlapping strands. The first being, my personal practice as an artist/film maker, the second, my skills and knowledge deployed in the service of collective artworks and community arts projects, and those same skills employed commercially in film and video production and teaching.

 Q: It's obvious from FB that you are a big film fan. Who are some of your favorite directors/favorite movies?

 With a few exceptions, I'm not much interested in modern Hollywood, old Hollywood is better, and pre-Hays better still. My film tastes are somewhat esoteric for most folks. I prefer silent film, particularly that of the classic German period of the twenties, Lang, Murnau, Pabst, Dreyer. Then in the sixties, PP Pasolini, Robert Bresson, Akira Kurosawa, soviet era Tarkosky and Parajhanov, plus a host of even less well know eastern European directors like Miklos Jancso, Jan Nemec, or Frantisek Vlacil. Don't you wish you'd never asked?

 Q. You live in Wales, pretty far away from the London of your youth. How did you end up there and what appeals to you living there?

 Well, we split our time between London and Pembrokeshire at present, while my wife Rachael is still working. In a few years, we'll move out completely, I think. I can't relax in the city anymore. I need some more space to feel comfortable. I've had as much London as I can handle. Rachael is Welsh, although Pembrokeshire is known as little England beyond Wales, and we are fortunate to own her childhood home there.

 Q. You were recently diagnosed with cancer and posted your experience on Facebook. How did you discover that you had cancer and how are you doing now?

 Yes, that was unfortunate. The prostate gets larger as us men grow older and so puts a bit of pressure on the bladder, changing the way you take a pee, like urgency and frequency. So any chap of a certain age should cut along to a doctor if they have persistent symptoms of this type. Our neighbour in Wales insists on calling it prostrate cancer, but I refuse to take that lying down, and firmly pronounce it prostate, but to no avail. But seriously, although it's a slow-growing cancer, the sooner you act, the sooner you can get the appropriate treatment. I had to have surgery, but it's not necessary for everyone. As my cousin, who luck would have it is a cancer specialist said, do you want to be erect or dead? Haha, what a great choice!

 Q: Since this is a TMSF, after all, can you pick a favorite song and say a few words about it?

 My choice of song to end this pleasant excursion is 'The Devil Rides Out', from the 'Eligible Bachelors' album. By the time of recording this record JD had left the band and was living in NY, and I was also spending a great deal of time in that city also. I was still contributing to the occasional gig or short tour, but I certainly wasn't around when this album was recorded. Christ, what do you expect for a record made in Luton?

So it is the live performances of this song that I recall, since it was in the repertoire well ahead of it being recorded. Although I could say it of many other songs, the open chords of 'The Devil Rides Out' always gave me a buzz as I waited to play in whatever the film images were [I can't remember]. Even if the audience or critics found the films superfluous or unimportant, I usually enjoyed watching the way that a set of otherwise unrelated images somehow meshed and synchronised with the music and gave the illusion of a premeditated vision. Of course, it was premeditated in as much as I knew what pieces of film would be used for a particular song, but beyond that, there was a lot of slack in the system. With the various parameters of the live installation, having to follow the cue of the band and the hand manipulating the projectors [no computers], there were great possibilities that the extemporisation would result in entirely unique sets of images and sound on each occasion.

Well, I should say something about why I like the song. It's one of a number of Bid's more esoteric lyrical compositions. He had previously pushed the Latin boat out with Adeste Fideles [not everyone's favourite song title to pronounce], and my spell checker isn't too keen on the words, either. In this case, the bridging line is rendered in Latin, but with the exception of the 'Hails', this is written in the ancient language of Sanskrit. Or at least that is my understanding and belief. Whatever the lyrical origins are, this is a classic TMS arrangement, altogether thrilling, incomprehensible and mysterious, yet totally pop, totally accessible and it dumps from a very great height those chart-topping household names who have followed in their wake.

And of course, I can never resist a song that features a sleigh bell, The Devil Rides Out and The Stooges 'I Wanna Be Your Dog' being the two finest examples.

http://tonypottsloopform.altervista.org

www.themonochromeset.co.uk 

www.tapeterecords.de

www.facebook.com/themonochromeset