#coliseum theatre

[girlonfilms]

Spirited Away heads to the London stage

A stage production of Studio Ghibli’s Spirited Away will hit the London stage next spring. Continue reading Untitled

[ufonaut]

Spirited Away dress rehearsal at the London Coliseum! A few glimpses of the Coliseum itself and the curtain call, for anyone curious. The show will be running from 30th April to 24th August 2024 and it's well worth the watch, a few missteps here and there but visually mind-blowing! (28/04/24)

[nomilkinmyteaplease]

An absolutely magic afternoon in London Coliseum watching Spirited Away. Smilarly to Totoro, incredible stuff was done with puppetry/costumes/set design. Word of advice, if anyone is planning on going, don't repeat my mistake to get the cheaper tickets in the balcony. I usually don't mind sitting in the back but for this one Id definitely fork out a bit more money to sit in the stalls if I were to go again. Also, it's 3 hours long (although it is word for word the film, which is just under 2 hours), so

It's a wonderful show and props to the performer who was No Face in particular did an AM-AZ-ING job (and got the biggests applause).

[paralleljulieverse]

From the Archives: Julie and Pat Boone at the rehearsal for the Royal Command Variety Show at the London Coliseum. 3 November 1958. 

As an added bit of trivia, Julie and Pat Boone shared the same dialect coach, Alfred Dixon. Dixon helped Julie master Cockney for My Fair Lady and he worked with Boone on his (not terribly convincing) Scottish accent in Journey to the Centre of the Earth (1959).

[streetartserenade]

I have this thing with floors

[literaryvein-reblogs]

some words for worldbuilding (pt. 1)

Air

billow, breath, bubble, draft, effervescence, fumes, puff, vapor

Arena

aquarium, bazaar, coliseum, field, hall, mecca, stage

Building

abbey, architecture, armory, asylum, bakery, bar, booth, cathedral, club, construction, court, department store, dock, edifice, emergency room, factory, food court, fort/fortress, framework, garrison, greasy spoon, hacienda, hangout, headquarters, hotel, inn, institute/institution, jetty, laboratory, mansion, mental hospital, monastery, mosque, museum, nursing home, office, pavilion, penitentiary, plant, prison, rampart, repository, ruins, sanctuary, shrine, skyscraper, stockade, storeroom, structure, temple, theater/theatre, treasury, warehouse, wharf

City

capital, metropolis, town, village

Furniture

altar, banister, bench, booth, bunk, cabinet, chair, couch, crib, davenport, dresser, furnishings, futon, jetty, lectern, partition, perch, platform, pulpit, rail/railing, screen, secretary, stand, wardrobe

Geographic division

area, county, desert, dynasty, kingdom, outskirts, quarter, sector, suburb, territory, tract, zone

Habitat

abode, ecosystem, environmentalist, habitat/habitation, harbor, home, land, nest, paradise, premises, refuge, settlement, tent

Habitat, human: accommodations, apartment, barracks, cabin, castle, condominium, convent, domesticity, dungeon, element, encampment, estate, grange, hacienda, home, house, housing, hut, jail, lodging, madhouse, monastery, neighborhood, old country, palace, prison, reservation, resort, sanctuary, shanty, suite, vacancy, villa

Habitat, rural: barn, burrow, conservatory, desert, farm, forest, grange, jungle, sanctuary, wilderness/wilds, wood/woods

Land

abyss, avalanche, bank, bay, bed, bluff, campus, cape, cavern, cliff, compost, cove, crevice/crevasse, dirt, downgrade, dune, elevation, estuary, expanse, field, fossil, garden, glacier, gorge, green, ground, gulf, harbor, hillock, inlet, knoll, landscape, lawn, lot, marshy, menagerie, mine, moat, mound, mountainous, nature, outlook, park, patio, pit, plateau, plaza, porch, prairie, projection, property, quagmire, ravine, ridge, savanna, shelf, soil, stack, table, trench, tundra, valley, well, wood/woods, yard

Nation

country, home, land, nationality, soil, state

Personal item

adornment, amulet, beads, best-seller, briefcase, cache, cargo, charm, contraceptive, disguise, effects, equipment, favorite, gem, glasses, handbag, jewelry, knickknack, luggage, marionette, memorabilia, necklace, novelty, object d’art, odds-on-favorite, paraphernalia, pledge, possession, pride, puppet, purse, resources, ring, souvenir, stuff, supplies, sustenance, thing/things, trappings, trifle, valuable

Planet

cosmos, Earth, galaxy, moon, planet, sphere, world

Region

capital, commonwealth, quarter, region, settlement, suburb

Room

alcove, attic, bath, bedroom, boutique, cellar, den, enclosure, foyer, gin mill, hall, lavatory, loft, outhouse, parlor, restaurant, saloon, shop, stage, store, tenement, theater/theatre, vestibule

Shape

angular, beaten, billowy, checkered, concave, conical/conic, crescent, curly, deformed, elliptical, flat, gnarled, kinky, misshapen, obtuse, round, shapeless, spiral, straight

Vehicle

camper, conveyance, motorcade, transport

Vehicle, air: aircraft, armada, blimp, dirigible, helicopter, shuttle, UFO

Vehicle, land: ambulance, bicycle, car, cherry-picker, dolly, excavator, model, traffic, truck

Vehicle, water: armada, boat, craft, fleet, sailboat, yacht

Water

abyss, aqueduct, basin, beach, blackball, brook, cape, channel, condensation, creek, deep, estuary, fountain, gulf, heading, inlet, lake, oasis, pond, promontory, reservoir, sea, spray, strait, tide, wash, wave, whirlpool

NOTE

The above are concepts classified according to subject and usage. It not only helps writers and thinkers to organize their ideas but leads them from those very ideas to the words that can best express them.

It was, in part, created to turn an idea into a specific word. By linking together the main entries that share similar concepts, the index makes possible creative semantic connections between words in our language, stimulating thought and broadening vocabulary.

Source ⚜ Writing Basics & Refreshers ⚜ On Vocabulary

[twixnmix]

Vintage Concert Posters

Coliseum Ballroom (Davenport, IA) - March 20, 1959

Memorial Auditorium (Chattanooga, TN) - June 13, 1960

Sunset Lake Park (Chesapeake, VA) - July 27, 1963

Encore Ballroom (Seattle, WA) - June 5, 1964

Sweets Ballroom (Oakland, CA) - December 10, 1964

Richmond Arena (Richmond, VA) - January 15, 1965

Four Seasons Arena (Walpole, MA) - November 12, 1966

Joe Freeman Coliseum (San Antonio, TX) - January 27, 1968

Fox Theatre (Detroit, MI) - December 25, 1968 - January 1, 1969

Club Imperial (St. Louis, MO) - May 20, 1969

[spunknbite]

He’s thought about kissing Crowley before

On the banks of the Euphrates. Under a juniper tree in the Hanging Gardens. Traipsing through some desert — Arabian, Gobi, Namibian, Kalahari — they all ran together. Beside a rice paddy in the Qinling Mountains. In coliseums and amphitheatres, then theatres and pubs. Over wine or tea or coffee, over too many meals to remember. At an airbase nearing the end of the world, and on the bus ride home after the world didn’t end after all. All of the nights thereafter.

Of course, he’s thought about it. Sometimes it feels as if he scarcely thinks of anything but. 

Quiet down, you, he’d plead in those moments. No use in any of that foolery. Angels simply can’t want like that, the ache of the want be damned. Even fallen angels; there’s an order to things, lines in the sand.

But still, he’s thought about it.

Alone, after those clandestine, ill-conceived meetings of old. Hours later back at the shop, paired wine glasses empty, nose in a book in some paltry attempt to divert his wandering attention. He prays — to God, to the author of whatever book fails to hold his gaze, to his own sense of propriety — but the prayer goes unanswered and so he thinks instead.

A staccato inhale, a press of lips, flush. Who would initiate it? Did it even matter? Lean fingers pull him close and Aziraphale follows as if he’s allowed to, as if he can follow any but the path that was set out before him. And Crowley would taste of the wine or spirits that they’d been drinking hours before this torrid, little fantasy began.

How would Crowley kiss him? Aziraphale had no experience in the matter, naturally. But he’s read enough books, watched cinema, observed the couples on Whickber as they dawdle down the way after an evening out, and he can imagine it. The certainty of it, the way Crowley owns an idea and then just rushes heedlessly forward, assured. No doubt, no hesitation, just momentum and an inner gravity that pulls Aziraphale in, attracted to a sort of confidence that Aziraphale can’t understand. And he’d kiss him like that, firm and heady, like if they could just get close enough to one another they might carve out some sort of safety separate from Heaven and Hell and the nature of the cosmos that prevents this very act from occurring in the first place. 

Fingers would thread through his hair, a sharp hip bone knocks into him as they slot together, and suddenly all is warm and wet and perhaps this is what drowning would feel like if drowning was equal parts terrifying and astounding. Wicked and miraculous. 

“We could have been…us.”

The words only just register as Crowley has him by the lapels, and the kiss is now and here and real, and not some weak midnight submission. 

There is no finesse, no craft, no delicacy. Crowley’s wile and strategy, gone. Just want. He wants in a way that Aziraphale has never permitted himself to. A sort of desperate, wild anguish, and Aziraphale can feel the implicit please please please through every shudder, every movement. No assurance, no givens, only a reckless beggar, and Aziraphale could almost recognize the need as his own, if he’d ever sat with the feeling long enough to comprehend it.

He wants to lean in, wants to wrench Crowley somehow closer, impossibly, like he would in an evening wondering. Forsake Heaven and with it his chance, their chance, at any sort of redemption. He wants to succumb, wants to give himself over with yes and finally and now, because the righteousness of it all seems more absolute than anything Aziraphale has felt.

But he knows better. He was made better. His hands dance over Crowley’s back, unsure, hesitant, fearful that if he touches him the rest of his body may follow, and he may fall right alongside him. 

It’s over before it’s begun, a human expression. And Crowley’s gone.

His shuddering hand lifts to his lips, sore and unnaturally hot, an almost pins-and-needles burn across his mouth. Is it hellfire or purely Crowley? How to disentangle them? Aziraphale tastes the acrid I forgive you as the heat cools and fades off his lips and from his fingertips, and with it the prospect of seeing Crowley again.

***

now tidied up and on AO3

[leapdayowo]

Redstone and Skulk au time!

To start off with, here’s cat!Tanguish college au

(ignore that I don’t know how to draw people holding a sandwich from memory)

Tanguish is a scrappy alley cat Tango found who one day escapes from Tango’s apartment. Tanguish ends up trying to steal Helsknight’s lunch, but fails at first and falls on his face. Helsknight feels bad and gives Tanguish bits of meat and bread from his sandwich bonding them for life. He then wraps up Tanguish in his theatre cloak (he’s definitely a theatre kid + does historical reenactment fights with swords and such) and tries to take him to a shelter or vet or something, but Tanguish spooks when a really loud car passes by and runs into an alleyway. HK almost decides to leave it at that, it’s not his problem, but then hears Tanguish yowling and hissing and the sounds of another cat doing the same. He rushes into the alley and gets Tanguish away from the biggest cat he’s ever seen (it’s the Demon), but in the process he gets a good slash of claw marks across his face.

From there he takes Tanguish to his place, cleans them both up, and from there they have a bunch of misadventures of HK trying to take care of this scrawny, half hairless cat while also trying to find its owner/take him to a shelter/keep him. Eventually, he would find the Hermits on campus (who I am imagining are a more chill fraternity), and comes across Tango hanging out with Welsknight. Tanguish and Tango are happily reunited, HK looks like he got into a fight with a lawnmower the other night, and Wels takes glee in pointing that out while the two (they’re definitely brothers) are unhappily reunited.

Later that night, Tanguish escapes again and follows Helsknight home. When HK discovers this, he begrudgingly texts Wels to tell Tango Tanguish is with him (having not thought to grab Tango’s phone number earlier). There’s probably some joint custody thing that happens and Tanguish gets to eat muffins from two different friend groups now :3

And on the other side of the multiuniversal coin: dog!Helsknight college au

This one is not as fleshed out, but essentially Helsknight is Welsknight’s dog who he keeps on campus, but HK has gradually grown to hate Wels. The coliseum group are all dogs too, and one day at the dog park, Helsknight runs away from Wels. He then stumbles across Tanguish (not a cat) who is getting harassed by these guys he used to steal things with along with other petty crime (not a crowd he wants to be with anymore), and when things get violent, Helsknight jumps in and attacks the guys (except Tanguish). Tanguish freaks out, but is trapped in the alleyway and can’t escape from this aggressive dog attacking everyone, so he holes up on a dumpster. When all the aggressors are gone, HK barks at Tanguish which scares the young man enough that he tries to scale the alley wall instead of get off the dumpster. He slips and falls down painfully next to Helsknight. More concerned if he broke a rib and finding some blood on him, he doesn’t notice HK checking him over until a rough paw tugs at his shirt.

He cautiously lets HK sniff his face and hands before getting up and slowly walking himself home. HK looks scary and is a big dog, but for some reason he has chosen to stick by Tanguish. They get to Tanguish and Tango’s apartment (roommates :3) and Tanguish has to introduce Tango to the Big Scary Dog that saved him and wants to be their third roommate, only to find out the HK is Welsknight’s dog who ran away a few days ago. At any mention of Wels’ name however, HK pins his ears back with a low growl. Regardless, Tanguish and Tango try to take HK back to Wels, and when they do everyone can tell just how unhappy HK is with Wels (he just doesn’t like the man’s vibes). Not knowing what else to do, Welsknight lets HK stay with Tanguish and Tango as a trail run to see what happens.

So yeah, Tanguish ends up with a big scary dog who keeps unwanted people away from him :3 HK eventually gets less hostile towards Wels over time, but still is not very friendly towards him. And yeah, dog versions of the coliseum crew playing in the dog park :3

Last one :) warden!Helsknight au

even less fleshed out than the other two. I like the idea of Tanguish being able to do the shrieker sound, but then thought what if he could actually summon a warden with it?

So Tanguish is an inexperienced witch (maybe, or is just magical) who can do basic ice related magic, but one day he steals from a woman part of a larger crew of bounty hunters or something, and he gets chased down by them. He gets corner in a strange part of the woods and does the shrieker noise three times to ward them off, which doesn’t work until after the third try a tall armored warden!Helsknight emerges from the soft soil and scares off the bounty hunters.

I don’t really have much else in mind except Tanguish sitting on Hk’s shoulders while the two try and figure out what to do in the world (which is very vague I know). I’m not sure what HK’s relationship to Wels is like or if Wels would also be a warden (if he was I imagine he’s been on the surface much longer).

uhhh yeah! If anyone wants to run wild with any of these ideas, go for it! Maybe just mention me as an inspiration if you make something from these, but yeah they are free for anyone to develop further if you wish :)

[allsaiint]

↠ master chief/gender neutral!reader

↠ word count: 1800

↠ chapter one | chapter two

↠ masterlist

↠ description: john has no idea how to date, but he'll try his best.

↠ warnings: potential for out of character | potential for dismantling of canon | gender neutral!reader may change in future chapters

↠ author’s notes: this is based on a mix of game-canon chief and television series chief. take it as you will. if i did happen to use specific terminology to describe the reader, let me know.

-- /// --

The instant John entered the park, he sensed something was different. So late on a Wednesday evening, the only thing playing in the open air theatre was a group of young violinists, no more than high school aged. There were a few people milling about, most likely parents there to encourage the group. Others were gathered on the outskirts, at the top of the coliseum style seats. They were cloistered in twos and threes, their conversations jumbling together over the sounds of the music.

You were the lone exception, standing towards the top of the steps, half-hidden by shadows. John had never seen you before, though there had been a recent influx of newcomers to the Reach. It was mostly scientists, after a mass exodus had left gaping holes in their military programs.

He caught the way your brow furrowed a split second before he realised he had been staring. You shifted back when he tried for a smile, and gave it up as a lost cause. In some ways, the act of interacting with new people still bemused him.

He was surprised, then, to hear footsteps approach, and turned just enough to witness you falter three steps above him. Over the din of the crowd, he could hear the race of your heart, so fast that he was surprised when you managed an actual greeting.

“You’re new to Reach?” 

He had to change tracks at the last minute, turning it from a statement into a question. He had also had no designs to sit, but found himself doing so anyway when you introduced yourself.

You nodded. “I took a job at the USMC. Have you been here long?”

“My entire career,” he answered, and watched close for your reaction. He suspected that you were unaware of who he was, as most civilians were. Few knew what the Master Chief looked like without his helmet on, and a majority were within the USMC.

His suspicion was proven right when you asked, “You’re a Marine, I take it? How long have you been in?”

Something in the way you asked, or perhaps it was the lack of starstruck wonder he was so used to, made him lie through his teeth, answering, “Thirty years, give or take a few.”

Eyebrows raising, you replied, “You look so young, though.”

A product of spending so much time in a suit of armour, he supposed. Instead though, he said, “You look fairly young yourself. What made you want to take a job here?”

Your smile slipped, and you ducked your head to face your knees. “My homeworld was glassed not long ago. I figured here would be the safest place to go, after that.”

“I’m sorry,” John offered, watching the way you began to pick at a split in your lip before, very abruptly, you turned to snap a tie around your wrist. “I heard about it, after I returned from a deployment. I’m glad you made it out.”

“Me too,” you replied with a quiet laugh. “You’re actually the first person I’ve met outside of work here.”

That made John chuckle and over it, he heard the way your heartbeat skipped. “I’m honoured, really.”

Conversation stalled for a few moments, and John could see how you pretended to watch the violinists to make it seem natural. There was a tension in your shoulders that gave away your desire to say something though, and you were rubbing your palm with your thumb. You would press hard in the very centre then relent before looking at John. It was quite nice to know that your nervousness was genuine, and not borne of being in the presence of the great Master Chief.

“Do you deploy a lot?” you asked at last, drawing John from his thoughts. The way you asked was stilted, as though you had dredged the question from the depths of your desire to say anything at all. “It seems like I never see the same face twice.”

“I do,” he agreed, and wondered what to tell you. The people you would deal with most often were the general ranks, those who stood a worse chance of surviving an encounter with Covenant. “I’m between drops, at the moment, but one will likely come in in the next few days. Covenant has been busier than usual.”

“I heard rumours that they were looking for something, but couldn’t find it. The Spartans either found it first or destroyed it or something like that.” You snapped the tie on your wrist once, hard. “That’s why they started glassing so many planets— they were really upset, whatever they were looking for.”

It always surprised John to find out how close the rumours turned out to be to the truth. He often wondered who started with the truth, and how long it took the details to be lost. It reminded him of the game he played as a child with the other trainees. One would whisper a sentence from across a room or through a glass, and it was the listener’s job to relay what was said. It had taken him a long time to realise that the “game” was actually training, learning to lip-read. The more serious the children took the task, the better the results were, but not until their augmentations were there ever perfect results.

“Well, in any case,” you said, drawing John from his thoughts again and offering him a smile, “maybe when you’re here, you can come visit me at the aquarium. Since I’ll never be able to find and all.”

With a rough, quiet laugh, John said, “Could see about making that work. Do you have to go now?”

“Should,” you agreed, but lingered where you stood. “I have an early shift tomorrow, and a bit of a ride home.”

Shifting to his feet as well, he said, “Let me walk you?”

“Oh, it’s— I live all the way in Immoria. It’s too much to ask—”

“I don’t mind,” John said, cutting your rambling off with a small smile. He found them rising easier in your presence. “I’d rather be sure you get home safe. Call it paranoia.”

“Well, if you insist,” you agreed, though it was with an air of exasperation. The tick playing at the corner of your mouth indicated that you were pleased beneath that though.

The next bullet train was due in five minutes, and you sidled closer as the waiting crowd grew and closed in. The way you flinched was almost imperceptible when you leaned into John, and your laugh was embarrassed.

“I don’t even like eating in the caf at work,” you admitted, but allowed his hand to stay where it was on  your back. “I don’t care much for crowds since—”

“I get it,” John said as the train came to an abrupt stop in front of you. There was just the one, and it hurtled back and forth across the city twenty-four hours a day. You remained close as the train began to move, curling your free hand into his shirt when someone knocked into you. The culprit offered John a smile full of mock apology that dwindled beneath his scowl, until they shifted to give you your space.

You were busy watching the scenery pass, and startled when John asked, “If you dislike crowds, what do you do at the complex?”

“Oh, they stuffed me into some little corner room with a few other researchers. I don’t really have to deal with too many people. Thankfully.”

“I see. What did you do before this?”

You shook your head. “I travelled around, studying species in their natural habitats, how we affected them, boring stuff like that.”

“It doesn’t sound boring,” John said, and watched your eyes widen as though you were surprised to hear it. If he had to describe it, it sounded peaceful. “If you enjoyed it, it wasn’t boring.”

“Well, fair enough,” you said with a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh. “Do you enjoy what you do?”

“Yes,” he replied on reflex. No one in recent memory had asked him that and, in truth, he was unsure of the truth in his answer. He had never been given the choice to decide if he enjoyed what he did or not.

Something must have shown through in his response, because the look you cast him came with a frown. You seemed to come to some decision or assumption on your own though, and uncurled your fist to lay flat on his chest.

A little too mired in his own thoughts again, John let silence reign after that. He followed you down the street with an absent mind, aware somewhere in the recesses of it that the inattention was unbecoming of the Master Chief. He found it happening with more frequency though, since—

“Well, this is me,” you said. “Thank you for walking me.”

“Like I said, I’d rather know you got home safe,” he replied, taking the building in. It was twenty something stories, but still short compared to most in the city. A pair of doormen stood just inside, prepared to open the doors for you.

You stalled again; it seemed you had something more to say. He heard the pace of your heart increase, and his focus narrowed in on the flicker of your pulse beneath your skin.

“Do you have a data pad, by chance?” you asked after a harsh swallow.

“It’s broken,” John said. His attention turned to your face just in time to register the way it crumpled in disappointment. With more gentleness, he continued, “I’d like to see you again, though.”

The words felt foreign, coming from him. If you noticed, you chose to ignore it when you agreed. John was surprised at how eager you seemed, and found it hard not to let it envelop him.

“At the park tomorrow? Same time?” he said. Again, he was met with eager agreement that made him smile. “Good. Goodnight then.”

Your sharp inhale in response was so subtle that even he almost missed it. Your eyes widened and your throat bobbed before you replied, “Night, John.”

Even you seemed to realise how hoarse you sounded and made to turn away, but not before John caught look of embarrassment flash across your face. He watched you scurry inside, and waited until the door was securely latched before allowing himself the laugh that had been brewing all evening.

[ourshadowstallerthanoursoul]

On this day... - July 24th

+ 1973 : Three Rivers Stadium in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, USA

+ 1977 : Alameda County Coliseum in Oakland, California, USA

+ 1979 : Falkoner Theatre in Copenhagen, Denmark

[riaaanna]

I gotta stop accidentally finding posts that now have extra layers of explanations lmao I will never shut up about this nobody said anything about this back then until now 😭😂

[nomilkinmyteaplease]

Spirited Away will become a play!

[neon-chemicals]

Let’s talk Purplebloods 2/?

This is mainly me talking about my OCs, and how they’re important

srry

CW: Suggestive, sexual acts mentioned, hard drugs

The Four Jesters

The Four Court Jesters are the authority directly below The Grand Highblood; there has only been one set of these trolls, staying firmly in charge for well over 10,000 sweeps.

The Jesters reside on a large colony referred to as Karnival , this planet is firmly under the jurisdiction of The Jesters and the purplebloods as a whole, The Empress’ influence is extremely lax and she turns a blind eye to most of the goings on.

[Karnival from a distance]

The Jesters are:

The Diabolis ~ Belial Hofman [He/Him]

The Hedonist ~ Namaah Yeoung [She/Her]

The Euphoric ~ Morkis Melpom [It/Its]

The Obscured ~ Morkan Melpom [He/They]

Each Jester is in charge of a sector or quadrant of the planet, split evenly in four where their individual followers can congregate. While the church itself is one entity, young clowns often will select a specific Jester’s subsection of the church to focus their worship on. These are examples of what some of those trolls would be like!

The following are descriptions of the various sectors and the trolls within!

-

The Infernal Ring

Governed by Jester Belial Hofman

The Infernal Ring boasts a host of activities where Purplebloods can attempt feats of violence and strength to impress Jester Hofman and hopefully win his favor. These include High Strikers, a more purple-flavored Muscular Theatre, Obstacle Courses, and above all else, a towering Coliseum.

Conquering the Coliseum is considered the highest feat anyone who follows Jester Hofman, every day there is a tourney where hopefuls fight in a bracket to the death, the final match being between the victor and Jester Hofman himself, no one has ever won against him, nor does anyone know what the prize is. Rumor has it that Belial will give up his seat to whoever wins against him, though when asked about the prize, Belial has always brushed it off with a simple “When it happens you’ll see”, If an opponent impresses him enough during their match, he will spare them and they will be treated like royalty while they’re on their pilgrimage, said to be blessed by The Messiahs with combat prowess to rival his own.

Belial represents the facet of the church that exemplifies violence, cultivating righteous rage, and the art of murder. Blood Sacrifices are commonplace in the ring, doomed trolls get shipped to the planet to be killed elaborately, their bodies are displayed in artistically grotesque ways, bled like livestock to be used as warpaint in the Coliseum.

[picture]

It is considered among the purplebloods to be an honor to be used in such a way, but the trolls actually subjected to it would beg to differ. If a young clown chooses to follow Belial they often adopt a splash of orange somewhere on their outfit going forward.

Belial himself is an intimidating, daunting figure, his physical mutations giving his visage a demonic edge, and his pyrokinesis lets him be as showy as he could ever want to be.

[picture]

His chucklevoodoos are impressive to say the least, his powers allow him to negate any pain he would feel in battle, allowing him to keep going and keep fighting a supernaturally long time before he would ever collapse, he can also extend this blessing to others, though he rarely does so.

[picture]

Privately, Belial seems to be a rather neurotic troll, always fussing about something or someone, particularly his now ex-pitch Namaah.

[picture]

Trolls who are close to him also describe him as a lover of the arts and spoken word, even a gentle soul with the right person. He is also the only Jester with an overall positive view of Grand Highblood Sigmar Patera.

Hedonist’s Haven

Governed by Jester Namaah Yeoung

Hedonist’s Haven is a much different sector compared to its violent counterpart. The ground is covered consistently in a light purple mist that flows and shifts almost hypnotically. The area is covered in beautiful lush foliage, fairy lights, and places to chill out, cushions and piles galore! Namaah doesn’t put herself above any of her followers, preferring to be among them, smoking and ahem, congregating. Special Stardust and recreational downers are provided to make a troll's stay in this haven absolutely transcendent and ethereal. Jester Yeoung’s goal is to make her followers feel all connected with each other and the universe while under her diligent eye. Nonconsensual drugging or touching is absolutely forbidden and Namaah herself assures comfort and safety, including culling any who would disrupt her paradise of calm and togetherness by her own hand and assuring that the most difficult members of her flock are perfectly at peace. Should a follower of another Jester cause such problems, she is not afraid to have a very thorough discussion about how the others should be keeping track of their flock.

Namaah represents the facet of the church that exemplifies community, working together and feeling The Messiahs resonate through the collective. Physical and Mental connection are especially important to her side of things, trolls in her community often participating in psychedelics and physical intimacy as a form of devotion to the whole. If a troll enters the haven upset and stressed, their comfort becomes priority for all inside, especially Jester Yeoung. Young clowns who accepts being brought in to Namaah’s congregation often adds a bit of pink somewhere on their outfit, though followers of Jester Yeoung are easily spotted due to their markedly chill and kind demeanors, most having a rather progressive view on the hemospectrum and how all trolls should try and be as connected as the purples are. Most lowbloods consider this behavior off putting and bizarre coming from a clown. Occasionally Jester Namaah finds a soul desperately in need of her assistance, it is an honor to be considered a project, granted specified attention and eternal bliss.

Namaah, the troll herself is a warm, maternal, comforting figure, always willing to lend an ear and listen to her flock’s concerns and wishes. She is noted as being the most beautiful troll most have ever seen, with striking eyes and a figure to die for. Despite a focus on her appearance being common outside the congregation, most within find her allure comes mostly from her personality, being surprisingly soft and quiet when within the Haven but able to turn on a dime into a commanding, intimidating voice, especially in regards to her recently separated kismesis, Jester Hofman. Her chucklevoodoos are subtle and empathetic in nature, allowing her to feel the emotions of other trolls as if they were her own, shouldering their burdens with them. In more extreme circumstances, her abilities can even be used to erase something from the mind entirely for a time.

Carnevale Phantasm

Governed by Jester Morkis Melpom

Rather than questioning what is Carnevale Phantasm your real question should be what is it not. Jester Morkis’ realm is anything and everything, a maddening, breathtaking array of shifting architecture and dizzying colors. No law of physics is consistent, no location in one set place except for the big top at the center, the eye of the storm so to speak. The Big Top is where Jester Morkis’ physical form resides while it is resting and dreaming, all appearances outside of the Big Top within Carnevale Phantasm being astral projections. Its physical body only gets up and makes appearances outside of its sector of the planet if absolutely required by the other jesters, Jester Morkan speaking for it otherwise.

From the outside looking in, the Carnevale Phantasm looks like a vast eerily silent emptiness, completely void of people, stepping inside, this vision shifts and warps into the fantastical landscapes of Jester Morkis’ most vivid dreams. An endless array of excitement and indulgence in carnival food and recreational hard drugs for those so inclined. Jester Morkis concerns itself with the entertainment and enjoyment of its congregation, always coming up with new games, shows and contests to make sure every soul in its dream gets to live their lives to the fullest, indulgence is the name of the game.

Morkis represents exactly that: Indulgence. Living your life like every moment is your last, life is the pregame for the endless extravagance and spoiling of The Dark Carnival! Trolls in its congregation tend towards the energetic and enthusiastic, beacons of energy and advocates for free time and living it up in whatever way you see fit truly YOLO personified. Individuals like to show their membership in its congregation by donning a spectrum of colors, if you see a clown barely wearing any black, that’s likely a member of this congregation. Morkis tends to it’s more down on their luck visitors with a forceful gentle encouraging, very excitable hand towards anything it thinks will help, mostly the individual's vices, be them food, drugs, alcohol, attention or any plethora of other things. Does it indiscriminately indulge even harmful addictions? Yes! Does it make the person feel better temporarily? Double yes!

Morkis, the troll is an enigma and likes it that way. Outwardly excitable, erratic and wildly inconsistent in mood and demeanor, it's near impossible to discover what its true personality is like. Face eternally obscured via mask and doused in a shifting array of patterns and fabrics. In rare moments caught between it and its brother, trolls have said that Morkis is soft spoken, not unlike Jester Morkan, and seems to be anxious or paranoid rather frequently with many mentions of time rushing by or losing track of it and fears of ‘not having long’. No one is sure what this is in reference to, though it is speculated by members of the collective to be some kind of chronic or degenerative disease/disorder, or perhaps a generalized anxiety of death.

Morkis’ abilities are arguably the most impressive of the Jesters’ chucklevoodoos, able to pull innumerable amounts of trolls into a collective dream in a vicinity around its own sleeping form. It has complete control over the senses and acts as a sort of trickster deity, able to appear anywhere and summon anything anyone could ever want, though of course it being in a dream all food alcohol and drugs have no actual effect on your body and rather it’s Morkis’ abilities stimulating the brain in a way that feels similar! (You can and will get addicted though)

Carnevale Obscurae

Governed by Jester Morkan Melpom

Far from the sparkles, glitz and glam of the other three quadrants, Carnevale Obscurae sits in relative silence, darkened tents and still carousels sit under the vast expanse of stars, completely visible due to the darkness. The air is melancholic and a chill always seems in the air as the clowns here go about esoteric meditation and prayer in blissful quiet as compared to the loudness and aggression of the rest of Karnival. Some might compare the vibe to a clownish monastery, where its inhabitants spend more time actively worshiping rather than on things considered ‘frivolous’. Some might consider this form of worship strange and out of character for purples, but silence has long been a tool of the messiahs.

Jester Morkan is an almost omnipresent… presence throughout the entire area, never in one place for long moving like a spirit, keeping watch over his flock closely, like his sibling. Trolls within the congregation often choose this over the others because of their own struggles with sensory overload, many of his followers are selectively mute and he strives to provide a calm, soothing environment for them to reach out to the messiahs in their own way. Jester Morkan believes even those who cannot participate in the color and noise and contact of traditional worship should not be excluded so callously, they are all children of the messiahs, after all. A lot of the clowns in their flock tend to be those that fade into the background, silent but faithful observers cloaked in black and other dark colors. Morkan’s calming embrace of silence and shadow also attracts those with sensitive abilities, leading to an abundance of oracles* in their midst, much like Morkan himself. Also, you know mimes, but that’s self explanatory.

Morkan the individual is quiet and reflective, much like most of their congregation, speaking in hushed tones and more often than not staying completely silent. They are respectful and polite but also can be particularly blunt when dealing with people and their problems. They care deeply for their sibling and for the individuals who choose to follow them, providing a listening ear and his divination capabilities to any who request such, his connection to the messiahs and ability to accurately predict the future and discover the past leads him to being deeply respected by other jesters and most of the purple populations. He is also the only jester in a long term relationship with a troll that isn’t a purpleblood, his matesprit, whose name he has kept private is an indigo cavalreaper who he cares very deeply for.

Morkan’s abilities are slightly more varied than the other jesters, able to draw from powers outside of his innate chucklevoodoos. The powers he was born with allow him to traverse shadows as if they were doorways, any spot of pitch blackness within a certain radius he can step between and appear out of another patch of darkness. It’s very convenient for keeping an eye on everything in Karnival as he tends to do, being a good neutral peacekeeper as compared to the other three jester’s more opinionated personalities. Jester Morkan’s more impressive skill however, was developed through sweeps of intensive meditation and spiritual guidance, the ability to see the past, present, and future. Using the holy act of puppetry, Jester Morkan receives visions from the beyond and crafts puppets to act out said predictions, it’s said he’s made hundreds of them, though most go unused, until the right troll comes along, asking for advice.

*Oracles will be discussed further in the ‘Ringmaster’ section

The Jesters have never needed successors however, there are rules in place if one of them was to tragically die.

If a Jester is to die without naming a successor previously or on their deathbed, The Grand Highblood is tasked with providing a suitable replacement.

If the current Grand Highblood has no one in mind, they may request some form of tourney to choose who is worthy of such a prestigious position.

The form this tourney takes is dependent on which Jester has passed being the following;

- Belial is to be honored with a show of combat prowess, traditional clownish brawls to the death

- Namaah is to be honored with words, heartfelt poetry and song

- Morkis is to be honored with “It’s a surprise :o)”

- Morkan is to be honored by choosing an oracle whose predictions can be tracked as near-completely accurate

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

I have a lot of opinions on Shuichi Saihara as a protagonist like on one hand I really liked his arc and think he was a genuinely interesting character and on the other hand the twist in chapter 1 kneecapped a lot of what I thought made him a compelling detective character on top of playing into some sexist tropes but like who cares about that.

What I ACTUALLY want to talk about is the AMAZING energy this guy exudes. He has more eyeliner on than any scene kid from the early 2000's. He's as gaunt as a sheet of paper. He looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over. Probably because he canonically didn't eat breakfast before entering the killing game so somehow the murder teddy bear coliseum has actually IMPROVED his living habits.

Nearly every line of Saihara's dialogue in the Japanese dub makes him sound like he's 5 seconds away from bursting into tears. During some intense moments he does this sprite where he's supposed to be adjusting the brim of his hat in a cool way but after he ditches his hat it just looks like he's doing a really emo peace sign. His character arc is about realizing that he doesn't want to kill himself and the way he resolves the conflict at the end of the game is to turn to the audience and say "You guys all suck. We're going to kill ourselves."

In chapter 6, Shirogane literally says that the concept for his character was her going "Hey what if I made a detective who's just, like, the most pathetic. The most cripplingly depressed poor little meow meow in existence?" He isn't even a poor little meow meow at this point he's like. One of those blind orphans that get run over in those propaganda films from the 40's. He's like if Oliver Twist went through puberty.

All the protags yap a lot but all of Saihara's internal monologue in the Free Time Events makes him sound like a fucking Wattpad fic about getting sold to One Direction. He embodies Komaru Naegi's "uwu im just a normal teenage girl" schtick except unlike Komaru, he'd probably dislocate his ankle running from a Ball Monokuma. Babe at least Makoto Naegi is kind of an extrovert?

He's super smart and observant and when he genuinely makes the effort to investigate the school, he uncovers the mastermind's secret lair on like the second day. And the next time he makes the effort he figures out the mastermind's identity and all of her schemes. Every investigation he looks at the evidence and immediately makes 8 logical leaps and somehow figures out the seesaw zipline toilet paper murder of the week.

But between that he, like, alternates between curling up in a ball and sobbing in his room and curling up in a ball and sobbing in front of Momota and Harukawa so like, it takes him a while to get to it. Kirigiri was busting into boys' washrooms and sneaking into secret off-limits dorms and throwing herself down trash chutes. Meanwhile Saihara sees the girls' washroom and is like "Hhhhhhhh I can't go in there that's cooooooooties" and needs The Power Of Friendship to, like, push over rubble or smth.

Like, oh man, he's a great character and he does get marginally more confident but, like, I think this dude runs on nothing but coffee and anxiety. He probably doesn't get more than 3 hours of sleep a night between Momota's midnight hangouts and whatever the hell the love hotels and the Monokuma theatres are all about. Say what you want about his role in the game but he's definitely a unique protagonist because I didn't think someone like him could narrate for a chapter without having a seizure. He looks like he has tuberculosis. MORE than the guy in the game who actually has tuberculosis.

[ratboywinter]

hi i see you like bruce springsteen and im looking for some new music to be unnormal about - what are some of your favorite springsteen songs¿

Thank u smmm for this ask im literally always looking for an excuse to talk about my fave songs. mwah

Some of my faves are:

Its hard to be a saint in the city is probably my fave bruce song ever its sooo good (live at the roxy theatre is my fave version, though the studio version is great too!)

From darkness at the edge of town: darkness at the edge of town, the promised land (the live version from the same album as saint in the city i lowkey prefer to the studio version too, i think its live at LA coliseum), badlands, streets of fire and adam raised a cain

For you - live at the roxy theatre (I love greetings from asbury park in general, so growin up+the flood id also recommend!)

Im on fire song of all time obvs but the live versions especially

From the river: the ties that bind, two hearts, the river, sherry darling, jackson cage (the live version alsoo)

Backstreets

Atlantic city

Because the night

Havent listened that much to his newer stuff but i do like the ghost of tom joad, ghosts and his covers like do i love you+nightshift

Obvs dancing in the dark and born to run

Thanku and happy listening!