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sachigram · 4 years ago

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With Teeth Chapter 3

((click here to read on ao3!!))

“Is that man coming by here again?”

Izaya pauses in his typing, sparing a glance at Namie, who is staring at him from her side of the desk. She looks bored, but that's nothing new. She hides her emotions well. It's one reason he can tolerate her, despite her unpleasant personality and obsession with her brother. She's fun, hard to predict. She's a challenge.

“What man?” Izaya asks, knowing full well what she means. She scoffs at him, and he grins at her. “You'll have to be more specific.”

“That one. The one you're obsessed with. Heiwajima. He's been coming by here every month around this time, skulking and making rude comments. This will be the seventh month, right?”

“Observant, aren't you?” Izaya asks, turning back to his typing. “I can't predict what Shizu-chan does, you know that. He does what he wants.”

“Yeah, but there's a pattern now. People like him don't normally have patterns, do they?” Namie tilts her head at him, something other women might do to seem cute. With Namie, it's always a disarming tactic, something she does to seem smaller when she's actually a power player. Izaya is used to her by now, even without reading her mind.

“That's part of what makes him so unpredictable. He's random until he isn't, and then he breaks his pattern when you least expect.” Izaya waves her away. “Ask what you want to ask, and stop with the games. We're both busy people.”

“You've got something on him, right? You're blackmailing him? It has to be something like that. He wants you dead even more than I do, and that's saying a lot. There's no way he'd suffer in your company more than he had to.”

“Whatever I do or don't have on Shizu-chan is between him and me. That makes it none of your business, Namie-chan! Unfortunate for you, but true all the same.”

“Are you guys fucking or something?” she asks, and she shrugs at the look Izaya gives her. “What? There's not much else you'd keep secret. If he gave you something actually juicy, you'd be holding it over his head much worse than this. Unless you had something to lose too, you wouldn't care what happened to him.”

“You are the definition of an 'over-thinker',” Izaya informs her. “Sometimes things are what they are, and nothing more.” Almost on cue, a thundering knock raps at the door, and Izaya motions for Namie to get it. “Who knows who that could be! Look professional, would you? We're running a business, here.”

“Yeah, I'm so curious who it is,” Namie says sarcastically, wrenching the door open to reveal a grumpy-looking Shizuo. He doesn't bother greeting her, just steps around her as he stomps into Izaya's apartment.

“Shizu-chan, what a surprise!” Izaya calls. “Terrible to see you, as always.”

“Fuck off and die, flea,” Shizuo says, heading straight for Izaya's fridge. Namie watches him for a moment, and then she turns back to Izaya.

“Shall I leave you to your fornication?” she asks.

“Oh, I don't know,” Izaya muses. “You're pretty, Namie-chan, when I don't have to look at your face. Maybe you could join us for the evening.”

“I'd rather be eaten alive, thanks.”

“More like you have plans already to stalk that brother of yours. Don't bother; he's having a date night at with Mika-chan at your favorite Italian place! He made reservations yesterday.” Izaya tilts forward, smirking at her as her face reddens with rage. “Run along, won't you? Who knows what they might do for dessert?”

Rather than retort, she picks up a folder from Izaya's desk and throws it as hard as she can. The papers fly out, flowing through the air like confetti, and she slams the door behind her hard enough to make even Shizuo flinch.

“Fuck. What's her problem?” Shizuo asks.

“Lots of things. She has more problems than most,” Izaya says, going back to his typing. He makes a mental note of the fact that Shizuo went straight for the pork tenderloin Namie prepared the day before, and then he looks up at his expected guest. “How's the bloodlust?”

“Same as it always is. Too fucking much,” Shizuo replies, already chomping away on cold leftovers. He never bothers with reheating them, anymore.

“And yet, you haven't bitten anyone. It seems you either have more self-control than I ever would've guessed, or you're exaggerating your symptoms.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shizuo says, and he flops onto Izaya's couch, giving Izaya a scrutinizing stare. “Does your secretary not know you're a witch?”

“Of course she doesn't,” Izaya replies. “Why would she?”

“She practically lives here.”

“She works here, Shizu-chan. This is an office, first and foremost.”

“Funny. I thought it was your apartment.” Shizuo takes another bite of food, his cheeks bulging almost comically with the amount he's eating all at once. When he speaks again, it's with his mouth full. “Even your place is a front. No one knows anything about you, huh?”

Izaya gives him a withering stare, grimacing at the grotesque way Shizuo eats.

“You're awfully conversational today. Why the sudden interest in my life? Usually you just barge in here, eat my food, and sit in silence until you're the true monster you've always been.”

“I guess I'm just curious about the way you do shit. Shinra told me all about how rare it is, what you are. He said you're probably keeping my secret so I'll keep yours,” Shizuo says. He finishes the last of the container of pork tenderloin, and then he goes back to the fridge.

“By all means, tell everyone what you know about me. The people who don't immediately run screaming from you will hardly care. I've been called terrible things, and for good reason. Calling me a witch in public will hardly matter.” Izaya turns back to his screen.

“Got no reason to tell anyone about you. I don't give a shit what you are.”

“Wonderful.”

There's silence for a bit, the sound of Shizuo chewing, of Izaya's fingers clacking against the keyboard. Izaya spares a glance up at Shizuo, who seems to be thinking about something, his brows furrowed. Curious in spite of himself, Izaya can't help but dip into Shizuo's mind. He snorts, and it draws Shizuo's attention.

“If you wanted to go to Shinra's place for this, you should have,” Izaya says. Shizuo snarls at him.

“Don't fucking read my mind.”

“Then stop thinking so loudly.”

“You said you didn't read minds often!”

“And you said that was a lie.”

Shizuo growls, his mind going to static as he considers throwing Izaya's entire counter out the window. Truth be told, Izaya wasn't lying when he said he doesn't try to read minds very often. It would be helpful for him in his line of work, but he was always more interested in doing the work himself. It was more fun, more challenging, easier to convince himself he didn't need his magic to be as powerful as he was.

“I hate you,” Shizuo hisses. It's the truth, Izaya can sense. Shizuo hates everything about this, being here, relying on Izaya, speaking to Izaya, smelling Izaya's scent all around him. Like this, Shizuo's mind is so loud and consumed with rage that Izaya pulls back, unwilling to listen to all that incessant noise and clatter.

“So go to Shinra's, then.”

Shizuo doesn't respond, but he doesn't need to. Izaya doesn't even need to read the beast's mind to know what he's thinking. Shizuo doesn't want to be seen that way by anyone he actually cares about. Izaya doesn't count in Shizuo's simple mind.

Of course it would be something like that.

Izaya pushes it from his mind. He's always loved seeing the worst aspects of other people, seeing them at their lowest, their breaking points, and choosing to love them anyway. Part of what makes Izaya able to love mankind as a whole is being there when they break, observing them as they either pick up the pieces or destroy others as they have been destroyed. It doesn't matter how it happens, whether Izaya has to cause it himself, or not. Their choices are their own.

Even in Shizuo's case, he's choosing to come here, to rely on Izaya, to trust in Izaya to help him remain himself.

“What are you smiling about over there?” Shizuo barks, snapping Izaya from his reverie.

“Oh, nothing,” Izaya lilts.

Creepy fucker. Shizuo thinks it, so clearly it seems almost direct, as if he wanted Izaya to hear it. Knowing him, it's more than likely. Shizuo doesn't censor his thoughts or his words, after all, and he's never been afraid to tell Izaya what he really thinks.

Seemingly content with the amount he ate, Shizuo sits back on the couch, his legs bouncing in nervous anticipation. He's always filled with anxiety on nights of the full moon, and Izaya can't exactly blame him. Even if Shizuo has a higher pain tolerance than most, the transformation is still incredibly painful, and Shizuo worries about keeping his sanity more than anything else. He's terrified of hurting someone, anyone, even Izaya, and he finds comfort in the fact that Izaya would never let him get close enough to actually hurt him.

Sometimes Shizuo is so human it's sickening.

***

The first time Izaya was consciously aware he was dealing with a dangerous, inhuman creature, he was in middle school.

Tsukumoya Shinichi found Izaya first, of course, an incredibly tame bloodsucker, but an irritating one all the same. He was Izaya's first official client that wasn't a desperate spirit, and he also had the annoying habit of popping up out of nowhere, eager to poke and prod at Izaya like a test subject, much like Shinra, but much, much more adept at getting under Izaya's skin. Izaya was just beginning in his potion-making back then, and Tsukumoya was enthusiastic about needing to feed less. A fellow lover of humans, it had been a long time since Tsukumoya had taken a life. He knew the right amount to drink, but he also had the habit of getting lost in his work, forgetting to feed, and always risked taking too much from the first victim after a period of accidental starvation.

“That's where you'll come in. You could have an entire market of potions for those like me, those that don't want to hurt anyone in the world of the living,” Tsukumoya explained. He had popped up out of nowhere again, met Izaya on his walk home. The sun was freshly set, and Izaya was walking home from Shinra's, enjoying the rare break of caring for the toddlers since his parents were home.

“Isn't making a potion as simple as reading a recipe?” Izaya asked, already irritated by the vampire's presence. “Couldn't you do it yourself?”

“I could,” Tsukumoya said, “but it would only be a drink at that point. I'm not a witch. There would be no magic in it.”

“How fortunate for me,” Izaya said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Tsukumoya merely laughed at him, as he always did. The vampire seemed to view Izaya as a trinket of sorts, the kind of thing one might pick up on a whim, and then keep for a long time.

“Just think about it, would you? There aren't many options in this world, or the next. Witches are few and far between, as you're aware,” Tsukumoya said. “It's been centuries since I met one as powerful as you.”

“So you've said before,” Izaya replied.

They walked in silence for a while, Tsukumoya still grinning like he was thoroughly enjoying himself, and Izaya with a small frown on his face, irritated by the fact that between Tsukumoya, Shinra, and the twins, he was always having someone trail after him. They were passing by an alleyway when Izaya's body screamed at him to RUN and NOW. He felt the pinpricks of danger along his skin, but he was rooted to the spot, too curious for his own good.

“Stay back,” Tsukumoya said, his voice calm, but tight. “That one's pretty strong.”

“What is it?” Izaya asked, straining to see through the darkness of the alley. He could see a figure, huge and looming, but he couldn't make out any details. As if in answer, a ferocious growl sounded, and Izaya was bombarded with the ugliest thoughts he ever heard in his life.

Kill, kill, blood, bite, KILL, KILL, KILL—

Izaya pulled back with disgust, and his sudden movement seemed to trigger the creature, who lunged forward. Tsukumoya yanked Izaya out of the way, too fast for Izaya to truly follow, and then Izaya got a full look at what was after him.

The creature was massive, covered in patches of thick, course fur. It had glowing eyes filled with madness, singularly focused on Izaya, the same thoughts running through its head. Teeth, sharp, jagged teeth, were in the creature's gaping maw, too large to truly fit.

“Werewolf,” Izaya said aloud, as fascinated as he was on edge.

“Yeah,” Tsukumoya answered, “and we interrupted his meal.”

Only then did Izaya notice the blood all over the creature, the viscera under its claws and in between its teeth. He inhaled sharply, and the creature lunged again. It seemed to be all Tsukumoya could do to dodge it.

“You shouldn't be out walking on nights of the full moon!” Tsukumoya said through clenched teeth, throwing Izaya over his shoulder as he ran up the side of the building, the wolf hot on his heels. “Haven't you read enough to know what's out here by now?”

Izaya had. He knew what was out here, knew the risk, but he didn't care enough to stay safe indoors. He couldn't bring himself to regret his decision, not when he could see firsthand what a werewolf could truly do. He propped himself on his elbows to watch the werewolf from over Tsukumoya's shoulder, and his stomach felt like it was dropping to his feet when the vampire detached from the building, free-falling in a careful spiral towards the ground.

The wolf fell after them, still only thinking the same thoughts as before, and Izaya didn't know what Tsukumoya's plan was, didn't wait to find out. He gripped his hand, and the wolf seized, a confused yelp leaving it as its arms and legs snapped to its sides, sending its body careening into a crumpled heap on the hard concrete. Tsukumoya wasn't breathing heavily, not the way he should've been after such physicality, but Izaya reminded himself that for as human as Tsukumoya seemed, he wasn't, and he had no need to breathe. He set Izaya down on the ground and moved towards the still snarling wolf, who snapped at them repeatedly, still trying in vain to bite them.

“Was he one who could've used a potion?” Izaya asked, watching in awe as he approached behind Tsukumoya. He felt fear, certainly, but not nearly enough to leave.

“No,” Tsukumoya said, “this one enjoys the hunt.” With that, he lifted his foot, bringing it down hard on the wolf's head. Bits of skull and brain-matter splattered onto the ground and walls as the wolf's growls ceased, and slowly, the body left behind became that of a man's. Izaya stared at the grisly scene, finding it strange that the first tangible thought he had was that he wished Shinra could be here to see this.

“Sorry,” Tsukumoya said, turning to Izaya. “He would've just killed someone else next month. It was better this way.”

“Yeah,” Izaya said, his body still thrumming with adrenaline. “I've never used my power like that on anything living before.” He didn't really even mean to. He didn't realize it was happening until he was doing it. Tsukumoya only laughed, of course.

“Oh, Izaya, that's only the beginning of what you could do.”

***

Hours later, and Shizuo is back to his usual pacing, his looming form weaving between the coffee table and the TV. Izaya is staring at his computer screen, trying to keep up with the chatroom conversation, but it's nothing he's interested in, and his attention keeps drifting elsewhere, his vision blurring as he loses himself to his thoughts.

He was up the last few days with another assignment. Shiki has been keeping him busy lately, definitely trying to occupy as much of Izaya's time as possible. Shiki really enjoys his petty tormenting, and Izaya has to admit he's been stepping out of line these past few months. He hasn't admitted to anything, of course, but he doesn't have to.

—like shit.

Shizuo's thoughts cut through Izaya's. Shizuo is glancing at him as he paces, his mind the usual maze of self-loathing, bloodlust, and emotional static, but it's clear he's thinking of Izaya, too, specifically that Izaya doesn't look well. Shizuo is thinking of the last time he saw Izaya in the middle of the city, and how he resembled a caged animal, manic, listless, poised to strike. Izaya's jaw tightens, and he fights to keep his expression neutral as he stands and moves to the kitchen, bypassing Shizuo.

Shizuo's thoughts continue to carry as Izaya makes tea. The monster is thinking of how small Izaya is, like this, with Shizuo's form so massive in comparison, but also all the time. Shizuo has always thought of Izaya as flea-sized, a beanpole, something annoying to be flicked away, but somehow Izaya always returns. Shizuo thinks Izaya is completely out of his mind, would have to be in order to keep coming back to annoy him.

But there's a comfort in that, isn't there? Izaya thinks, and Shizuo goes completely stiff, his body turning slowly to face Izaya.

Get the fuck out of my head.

“It's not my fault your thoughts are so loud. You're practically screaming them at me.” Izaya finishes with his tea, and makes his way back to his desk. “Besides, is it really even considered eavesdropping if you're thinking of me?”

Yes. Shizuo's ears are pulled back, his teeth bared. You've invaded enough of my life, you fucking parasite. Let me think in peace.

“Monsters don't deserve any peace,” Izaya mutters, but he grants Shizuo's request, and leaves his mind. At least, Izaya tries to. It's strange. He's never encountered this before. Izaya doesn't read minds often, at least on purpose, but most people are always subconsciously guarding themselves, even without being aware of Izaya's abilities. With Shizuo, he's both protecting and projecting his thoughts to the point that he's pulling Izaya in more than he's pushing him away. If Izaya had to guess, he'd say it's because Shizuo has never had to guard himself. For all of Shizuo's confounding nature, he's incredibly simplistic and straightforward, and his close proximity to Izaya is only making his thoughts even louder. Izaya groans and pinches the bridge of his nose.

What's wrong with you? Shizuo sends, and Izaya blinks up at him when he realizes Shizuo is now sending his thoughts freely and directly.

You're making my head hurt. Izaya thinks back. Shizuo growls a bit.

Good. You deserve it. Fuck you.

Izaya snorts and sips at his tea. This is new for them. In all the time Shizuo has spent here in his transformed state, he's never really conversed with Izaya before. The conversation isn't exactly thrilling, but it's an improvement over Shizuo's usual brooding pity party.

Izaya turns off his computer, deciding he's done playing with his humans tonight. He carries his tea with him as he pads over to the couch, passing by Shizuo again, who glowers at him the entire time. Izaya sits down on the couch and turns the TV on, flicking through some different channels before he decides on a cartoon he likes.

Shizuo isn't looking at the screen, but his ears are twitching towards the sound of whimsical music. Izaya wonders if Shizuo deprives himself of all creature comforts on nights of the full moon because he's afraid of this being his new normal, afraid of accepting this is his life now. It's laughable, and Izaya does laugh, can't stop himself. Shizuo's head whips towards him, dark eyes narrowed suspiciously, still incredibly human even in that distorted, monstrous face of his.

“Don't look at me like that. I'm only watching TV,” Izaya says, and he sips at his tea. Shizuo goes back to his pacing, his ears pulled back. He's pissed, as usual, and he wants to ask questions, but he knows Izaya won't answer them. Curiously, Izaya delves a little deeper into Shizuo's mind, wondering what it is exactly that Shizuo wants to know.

Out of my head. Shizuo sends angrily. Izaya pouts and obeys, wondering how Shizuo even sensed him eavesdropping.

You're no fun at all, Shizu-chan.

***

The first thing Izaya really notices when he stops floating along is that he doesn't recognize where he is. It's a normal-looking house, filled with pictures on the walls, and it takes a few moments for Izaya's eyes to focus on them long enough to make sense of the faces. Shizuo's picture is there, and he's smiling, flexing for the camera as Kasuka stands stiffly at his side. They're both young, and like this, with Shizuo's dark hair, it's incredibly easy to see the similarities between them. From a distance, they could be mistaken for the same person.

“Why are you here?” A voice asks from behind Izaya. He turns to face Shizuo, a spitting image of the child in the photograph. He's maybe ten years old, if Izaya had to guess. He's looking at Izaya like he knows who Izaya is, despite the drastic difference in their ages. “Get out.”

“I'm not sure why I'm here,” Izaya says, his hands going in his pockets. “Is there something you wanted to show me?”

“Fuck, no. I want you to get out.” Shizuo's fists are bloody, and his body is covered in tiny scrapes, his clothes filthy. He's been fighting. Izaya can't help but wonder when the fights started, how young Shizuo was the first time he was jumped.

“Am I dreaming?” Izaya asks aloud. He doesn't remember closing his eyes, but it's possible he passed out. He hasn't slept, and he hasn't eaten. He thinks of Shizuo in werewolf form, pacing around and refusing the comforts he desires and he scoffs.

“How the fuck should I know?” Shizuo's fingers twitch, and he's glancing nervously at the stairs. His parents are up there, Izaya realizes, and Shizuo is afraid of them for some reason. No, that's not it. He's not scared of them. He's scared of them being scared of him.

“Were you fighting? You're so young here,” Izaya says. The Shizuo he met was already broad-shouldered and blond, carrying a heavy reputation with that strength of his. This Shizuo is nervous, jittery, unsure of himself.

“You're in my head,” Shizuo accuses, and then he jolts as a door upstairs opens. “Why are you always in my head?”

“I don't know,” Izaya says honestly. “I'm beginning to think you want me to be here.”

A woman begins walking downstairs. She's strikingly pretty, her face similar to Shizuo's and Kasuka's, her dark eyes large and kind. She moves to Shizuo's side, putting her arms around him. She doesn't acknowledge Izaya.

“You didn't mean to,” she says, petting through Shizuo's hair. “You were trying to help.”

“I still hurt her,” Shizuo says, leaning into her and closing his eyes. He seems to have forgotten about Izaya. “I couldn't stop myself.”

“Kasuka said you were trying to do the right thing. You were only trying to scare the bad men away. You're a good, sweet boy, Shizuo.”

“Where's dad?” Shizuo asks, and his mother pulls away a little, giving him a false, gentle smile.

“On the phone with the police. Don't worry, they just want a report of what happened.”

“I already told them what happened.”

“Yes, but they want to hear it from an adult.”

Izaya looks from the scene to the doorway, which is shrouded in darkness. He makes his way over to it, stepping through, and he finds himself outside the wreckage of a convenience store, multiple people buried in the rubble. Shizuo is there, breathing heavily, Kasuka at his side.

“Was this your first time hurting an innocent person?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo snarls at him, tears in his eyes.

“Go away.”

“I can't,” Izaya says, and he walks towards the woman's unconscious body. “You throw your little tantrums all the time. Who knows how many people you've injured?”

“I don't mean to!” Shizuo shouts. Kasuka isn't paying either of them any attention, is only looking towards the distance where a cacophony of sirens are moving closer to them. “You hurt people more than me. You ruin lives all the fucking time, you like doing it. You're the real monster here and you know it!”

Izaya ignores him and looks around, deciding to explore all he can while he's here. Shizuo follows after him, face still contorted in rage.

“How would you fucking like it, huh, if we walked around your memories, all the things you don't want people to see out in the open? All the things you're scared of, ashamed of? How would you like it, flea?!”

Izaya scoffs, turns to tell him to shut up, but everything shifts around them, and they're suddenly in Izaya's childhood home, the twins both screaming in their cribs as a young Izaya curls in the corner, sobbing as the lights flicker around them and doors open and slam repeatedly. Shizuo's expression changes as he looks from Izaya's younger, terrified self, to the real Izaya in front of him.

“Flea?” Shizuo is older, suddenly, and he looks so fucking concerned that it makes Izaya's teeth click together.

“OUT!” Izaya roars, and the scene dissolves around them. He and Shizuo both wake with a start, still in Izaya's living room, Izaya on the couch, Shizuo curled up in the floor, human again, sunlight streaming through the windows.

“Wha— What was that?” Shizuo asks as he sits up, his voice unsteady. “Were you in my past? Was I in yours?”

“Get the fuck out,” Izaya hisses, scrambling to get off the couch and stand over Shizuo. “You had no right, no right.”

“I didn't do anything! You're the one with—magic. What did you do, huh?!”

“I don't fucking know!” Izaya snaps, and then he turns on his heel, marching towards the door. He steps into his shoes, throws his coat on. If Shizuo won't leave, then he will. He refuses to stay here with Shizuo looking at him like this, with pity clear in his gaze. The door slams behind him as he hurries out of the building, his skin prickling and his hands shaking more and more with every step he takes away from Shizuo.

#with teeth fic #shizaya #Izaya Orihara #Shizuo Heiwajima #werewolf shizuo #witchy izaya

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withoneheadlight · 4 years ago

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The kitchen’s Steve’s favorite part of the house.

It has this odd shape. Trapezoid. “Fuck, Stevie, so goddamn weird”. Doesn’t make sense in a, on the other hand, perfectly rectangular house (or, well, it does but, they’ll only find out about that later). The cabinets are ceiling-high. The tiles of the wall white and cracked under the repeating pattern of light mint-green-stemmed, yellow-petaled lilies. The whole backdoor is painted on that same shade Billy calls Ripe banana dreams, both so terribly old-fashioned and fiercely cute none of them says a word about repainting it. There’s a wooden piece, built into the farthest end of the counter. It looks disgustingly juicy and mercilessly stabbed when they move in, but Billy insists on keeping it, and sanding, and treating, and varnishing it. Manages to get it back up on shape because “Better than anyone, darling you should know what a little touch of class can make”. And for more than two weeks straight the only goal of his life is to learn to cut vegetables at high speed because “I have to live up to this level of professionalism. Impress our most un-impressionable guests”

(And, to Steve’s surprise –and probably hers– when she finally deigns to pay them a visit, his mom is, in fact, pretty much impressed.)

He learns how to make good casserole. Tries his luck with Mexican and Italian. Fails miserably with Japanese. Will never-ever admit it but, he loves it when flour ends up staining every single surface, making the biggest mess around himself when he bakes. Steve knows why it is. It’s a shared feeling. Floats up till it reaches the ceiling and bounces back down to them, heavy with the warm smell of cooking pie and cinnamon. Tastes docile and tamed like “Maybe not so much vanilla next time. Whaddaya think, babe?.” Tastes savage and daring, like the overwhelming tang of freshly squeezed lemon lingering on Billy’s tongue, when he crowds Steve against the fridge and kisses him, nibbles a shuddering laugh out of him “How the fuck are you able to even think about putting your mouth near that thing, Hargrove?. That was––ugh. That was disgusting”, “Well you know me, whatever it takes to make you squirm” leaving Steve with absolutely no option but lick the sugary dough stain over his cheek to “Cover up that foul flavor” and maybe because he wants to make Billy squirm a little too.

It’s a heart-warming, welcoming feeling. Like the vivid smells of green tomatoes and parsley and mustard sauce. Like the taste of love on Billy’s lips. The way he loses his breath when Steve kisses the sugary flavor into Billy’s mouth with his:

This place smells like home, tastes like home. Like finally, finally. Home.

It’s Billy’s favorite place, too. But Steve doesn’t think it’s just because of that. But also because maybe,

maybe.

He has also noticed that–

There’s this particular, particular moment. It happens around seven on autumns, right when the day starts to fade. It happens between six and six past twenty-eight on winters, and holds the sleepy cheeks of the newborn tulips on Steve’s garden till they fall asleep on springs, sun already sinking behind the horizon by the time both hands of the clock meet over the spiral of the eight, pointing towards infinity. And then grows bigger and bigger and bigger from there, flooding into summer: the golden sunlight seeping through the wide, double-paned window facing the backyard in an oblique angle, making the yellow flowers of the tiles look like they’re re-blooming in gold.

It’s the moment the day turns into a fire.

It’s their favorite moment in time. And in this particular, particular day of July, it happens at ten past nine.

Billy is making Spaghetti Carbonara. The kitchen is damp with the rich smells coming out of the boiling water. Mushrooms and oregano, black pepper and lime. A song is cooing at them from the radio, the beat of the drums a boneless memory of that one echoing around the quarry on faraway almost-night on a faraway July. Water rippling under the quiet sigh of the breeze. Trees cutting the liquid rays in asymmetric halves.

Billy takes off the apron. Turns the stove down.

Reaches out to Steve, fingers wavering come, come, come.

To me. Come to me. “C’mon, Harrington. Do I scare you or what?“

He has this way of looking at Steve that makes the space between them narrow, narrow: the whole unknown world. And aseptic, non-lived-in flat in downtown Florida. This tiny, tiny town. A mysteriously-shaped kitchen––

“¿Can I have this dance?”

Steve walks to him, takes his hand.

––Their bodies, pressed flush.

Inside his chest, Steve’s heart is running.

(“Can I at least have this dance, before we say goodbye?”

Mazzy Star was playing. The corner of Billy’s eye felt wet where his skin brushed against the corner of Steve’s mouth. They danced till the daylight faded, till there were teardrops falling from the night sky.

“Billy, I don’t have to––”

“Don’t, pretty boy. Don’t say it. I��ll make you stay if you do. And I can’t do that”)

They made lovelovelove on the back of Billy’s car.)

In this light, they fell in love, they fell apart. Ran away. Ran back.

Steve nudges at Billy’s chest, makes him move backward till he’s far enough to tug, draw him in between their tangled arms, hands intertwined. Steve curls himself around Billy’s back, noses at the warmth trapped between his curls. He smells like BillyandSteve, like this home, like past, like future. Like us.

Steve whispers in his ear. Three words. Billy’s neck curves towards him. An instinct. Tickled by their warmth. Steve kisses the curve of his ear. Tugs the collar of his shirt aside, bites where shoulder meets neck and up, up.

“Easy, Prom King” Billy teases, grins at him tender and wild. Knows when to use the one that gets Steve every time “Or you’re gonna make me think we’ll become picture-perfect from this magical moment onwards. A bunch of kids. White fences. You know, the whole shebang”

(Billy crashed the Camaro into a tree in the winter of two thousand and fourteen. Had left the house in a frenzy. Something happened Max wouldn’t talk about. But she was scared, so she had called,

“Find him. Please.. Make sure he’s alright”

When Steve found him, Billy was in the middle of the Brookville road, feet stumbling on the twin yellow lines, following them nowhere. So weary, so impossibly small like this: head hanging, arms wrapped around himself. A crooked shape, carrying the weight of the shadows the tall pine trees cast on his back.

So unlike him.

Steve stopped the car at his side, engine oozing steam, shaking in the icy mid-May air “Billy” he said. Low. Careful. Careful. Billy’s eyes looked wet in the moon-silver night, pupils blown, deceivingly calm, “What are you doing? This is dangerous” And Billy’s spine had bent even lower, forearms finding rest on the window frame. Leveling with Steve. Looking wasted, looking tired, but still, he flashed a grin at him, teeth-shark white, never going down if he wasn’t going down swinging. And Steve–– hadn’t known at the moment, but the blood staining his cheek, the screaming-purple mark around his eye.

Those weren’t from the crash.

“I was sleepwalking, Harrington” he said, voice dry, laugh harsh. Shrugged “Waiting for a lucky strike”)

“What does it make you think that’s not what I’m aiming for?”

(When he took Billy to his house Max was already there. Had sneaked out. “Neil will kill you if he finds out,” Billy said and she nodded, white knuckles peaking red with how hard she was gripping the handler of her bike, and Steve hadn’t seen her cry before, not ever, but her eyes were swollen and wet and,

“Are you––”

“I’m alright, kiddo. You know me. I’m always alright”

And the lie sat heavy, between them. Two lies, covering the truth. Poorly stitched. But Max had called Steve for help, so that’s what he did. Help. Sent her back home. Took care of Billy’s face. Billy’s hands. Nodded at those same lies, let them do their work while taking care of wounds he didn’t know, back then, couldn't have been for a crash. Made him spend the night.

Billy still hadn't woken up when Steve left the next day, leaving food and a note on the nightstand ‘I’ll be back soon. Stay’.

Retraced Billy’s steps down the yellow lines splitting the forest in half. To find it.

The Camaro wasn’t done yet. Howled like a wounded beast under Steve’s touch, but stayed together all the way to Donny’s garage. And Steve paid for the repairs. Covered it all up. Max has said “His dad can’t know, Steve. Can’t know. If he finds out he will--” and steve was starting to put two and two together. To realize some billy was, maybe, running away from something. Someone. When he crashed his car.

Woke Billy up when the hands of the clock met over the spiraling infinity of the eight. Seventeen hours straight of sleep and still looking like he could use a lifetime. Told him “The car will be ready in two or three days. ‘Til then, you stay'' covered his mouth with his hand. Didn't let him complain “And If whatever happened last night happens again, you take it and you run. Back here. And you stay again, ok?”

Two weeks later, Billy showed up at his door. Lit him a cigarette. Offered to teach him how to fight.

“I cannot give you back your money, but I know you don’t need that”

Made him laugh.

They spent almost the whole summer together, after that. Some days. Most nights.

Wasting time. Fighting. Joking. Driving.

Falling.

No ‘what ifs’. No promises. Just,

“Leave the light on if you can’t sleep, pretty boy. If I manage to sneak out of the Old fuck, I’ll pick you up. Promise I won’t stop kissing you until dawn. Gotta make up for what you paid for that ca, uh?”

Because Steve was gonna leave. Wasn’t gonna throw a single glance behind his back.

That was the plan.

And he did. He did. But––)

He spins Billy out. Tugs him back. When their chests bump, his laugh bursts, bubbles up. Weightless. Happy. Because all that matters to him, to them, it’s between these four irregular walls now.

And God this, this, is Steve’s favorite part.

(–ended up coming back running, hoping the love would re-stitch itself as he followed the road’s yellow lines.

Hoping Billy was the one letting his light on this time.)

Because the sun’s gonna keep on shining. They can keep on dancing in here, in their weird trapezoidal kitchen (in their house, in their home), for as long as they want. Hearts touching. Lips brushing. Bodies swaying, spinning, cutting through the golden light.

#harringrove #and #this is the end #!!#i know is not too goo but i'm happy i finished #it #and also #i wanted to have something for this #1 year anniversary so :D #thank you again fandom #i wouldn't have make it this far without you #also! ns*w anon. i don't know if your're still around but #i published this part for you long ago #and it my head its now for you so <3 #xharringrove #xfluffy

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queerchoicesblog · 4 years ago

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An Unexpected Turn of Events

Hiya, folks! So, as previously announced, the wlw writing project continues after a break with a miniseries set back in Vienna, one of the iconic capitals of opera at the time of Mozart. An emerging singer gets the chance to be an understudy in the latest Mozart’s discussed opera Le Nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro), that premiered at the Burgtheater in Vienna on 1 May 1786, w and play the pants role of the page Cherubino. Preparing for the role doesn’t quite go as planned… .

Tagging: @scottishqueer

Previous chapter: The Understudy

Hope you enjoy it: if you do, please consider spreading the word!

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A couple of days later I go back to Melchiorri for another session as planned. He is inflexible that I allow my voice to rest at least one day before practising again not to damage it. As I observe the streets of Vienna passing by from my carriage, I wonder if the little fugitive will visit us today too and a tiny smile crosses my lips. I should be bothered by such unprofessionalism but surprisingly I enjoyed the interruption. A private comedic enteract. It also reminded me the maestro is human: I stole a glance of the domestic, family life people like me is generally unfamiliar with. I don't plan to marry anytime soon honestly if I can avoid it, despite what my Aunt claims. I owe her and my uncle, the wealthy side of my family, everything. She brought me away from the small town by the Alps I lived with Mom, Dad and Hans, my little brother in a wooden cottage by a stream. We weren't indigents, we owned a small typography in town that mainly served the local journal of the valley and well, the church crafting the prayer books you would find on the bench every day at mass. We weren't rich with either: you don't exactly became high socialite with so little. Hans is now running the typography as my father's eyes are not the ones he used to have since he got sick. I don't envy my poor brother; I am glad I got my way out of that life. I am eternally grateful to Auntie Helga for insisting to drag me to Graz and deciding to turn me into a star of the opera after hearing me perform a solo in the church choir during one of her - not so frequent, actually - visits.

Auntie built her fortune over a good marriage with a promising young lawyer who couldn't resist her charm and eventually allowed her to live in sober luxury and even be invited to court. But that seemed to be her sole aspiration in life: she left the small town and never looked back. I am an opera singer, I want more. My career comes first and I have yet to meet a worthy match honestly. And no, I don't want to be a puppet, a doll to a man who will eventually ask me to leave the stage and my beloved arias to look after a child or be a proper wife, whatever it means. So, no, thanks, I chuckle in my head while taking the hand the driver offer me to get off the carriage. When I knock at the door, I am considering that maybe Herr Giorgio is not that bad, even if I didn't like the way he addressed the maid and the poor naughty boy. Nor the lusty looks he throws me. The maid welcomes me with a smile and a little reverence. Good girl, probably she expects me to chastise her too. As if I had any intention to do so! She takes my fur and quickly disappear into the wardrobe room before walking back towardsme. I thank her for her zeal but I know the way to the music room, the maestro is surely waiting for me, I say. I start walking but what she says next makes me freeze, confused. "Actually, Miss...the master is not here today. I'm very sorry. His wife is waiting for you in the tea room". What? That...that must be a joke. The maestro hired to prepare me last minute disappears before the official rehearsals. I turn and throw a bad look at the poor maid, who doesn't deserve it in the least. She's just a messenger, her eyes beg before lowering them to her feet. She's right, my anger is all for Mister Melchiorri. What do I do now? "Whatever, lead the way then" I exclaim, following her. "I can't wait to hear what the fair lady has to say about this". My voice is cold, sardonic; the girl doesn't say a single word while we walk in the opposite direction than my usual route in the house. She's certainly too afraid to dare say a thing. When we finally arrive to the right room, she knocks politely at the door and steps in when a female voice comes from the inside. She bows her head and announces my presence before disappearing back down the corridor. She stops only to let the door open for me. I let out an annoyed sigh and enter. The room is significantly different from the maestro's studio. No instruments, only paintings at the walls and fresh flowers on the little tables around the room. The perfume is delicate and inebriating: are they orchids, I wonder? A neat wooden library holds the place of honour on the main wall, opposite the fireplace and framed by windows that fills the whole room by natural light, even if the sun doesn't shine today: it will probably rain soon. Letting my eyes wonder outside I spot green and a carousel: I didn't realise we were so close to a park! Unlike the music room, here even if the furniture, the velvet armchairs, the Persian rugs, every decor are certainly expensive, the atmosphere is surprisingly...cozy, an adjective I would have never thought of associated with Melchiorri's place. It's almost inviting, calming? "Miss Bauer, I am so incredibly sorry for the the latest developments and all the trouble they must bring on you...but please, take a seat! Franziska will be back soon with fresh tea". I turn to see a woman gesturing me to join her by the fireplace. Her German has a thick Italian accent which gives her "a bit of exotic" as they say at court. She doesn't wear a wig, her long raven hair are done up in an elaborate grateful chignon and two curly strands frame her visage. She reminds me one of those shepherdesses portrayed in bucolic frescos at the Emperor's Palace. Her dress is not in character though: a plain, cerulean dress which is not necessarily cheap but does nothing to enhance her figure. Poor taste probably: even money can do little about it sometimes. She must be in her early thirties or so I wager and thinner than most ladies I know in her standing...I wonder why Melchiorri chose her if he's so clearly fond of female curves. Maybe it's another arranged loveless marriage. I wouldn't be surprised. I oblige and thank her politely, forgetting my anger for a moment. It surprises me, it must be a reflex, a natural response the soothing silky voice of the lady. Like the feral beasts tamed by the gentle melody of Orpheus' song, I think trying to shake away such thought. I suddenly realise that I don't know her name. Melchiorri never talked about her. But I don't want to tell her: it's not a nice thing to say to a wife, right? As if reading my thoughts, she shakes her head slightly embarassed. "I forgot my manners, didn't I?" she sighs. "You must forgive me, Miss, I do not receive many visitors lately and I've never been introduced to famous opera singers...nor any of my husband's pupils. My name is Cecilia, Cecilia Melchiorri". I feel a pang of sadness for this lady excluded from the theatre world his husband works in. I don't get why she has to be cast out like that. I've met other illustrious wives at social gatherings around Vienna or at court. I offer her my hand, gesturing no apologies are needed, and repeat her name. "Cecilia...". Sadly, I completely butcher it: I studied Italian for the opera but my Austrian tongue is still incapable to recreate the sweet sounds that comes so natural to her. It must not be the first time because her lips curl in a quick understanding smile. "You can call me Lia, if it's easier for you. My family used to call me so". Lia...what a pretty little name. I smile, grateful. "I will then, if you don't mind...Lia. You can call me Constanze: it seems only fair". "As you wish, Miss Bauer!" she says before realising her mistake. We share an amused look, even if hers is a bit more bashful. In that moment, after another polite knock, Franziska returns with the tea and some butter biscuits. They're different from the ones Mister Melchiorri usually offers me in his studio. She's serving the tea when a familiar figure materialises on the threshold of the room at my peripheral. Lia is giving him the shoulders so she can't see him. I turn in his direction with a smirk. "I believe we've already met, right, Sir?" The two women turn at unison too and the kid childishly hides his face but doesn't move. After a moment he spies us through his fingers and retrieves his hands, smiling. Franziska puts the tray underneath her arm and tells Lia that she will bring him to his room, making the boy pout. He's quite the character. "Maybe he followed you because he just wants a biscuit" I say, my eyes wandering between them to check if I'm overstepping. "Maybe you're right...but only if he doesn't bother you" Melchiorri's wife concedes with a tired smile. I shake my head and take the decorated plate in my hands. "Would you like one?" I ask in Italian to her son, not sure if he speaks proper German. His face brightens up and he nods enthusiastically. We share a soft laugh, even the maid joins. He gets ready to speed across the room when he stops, considering. He searches his mother for approval. Lia nods, asking to behave like a good boy though. So he approaches slower than he wanted, with great effort to refrain himself, and grabs a biscuit from the plate. Before taking a generous bite, he mutters a quick thank you. "Mystery solved" I comment, placing the plate back on the table. "You must excuse him, Miss Ba- Constanze" Lia say, gently pulling him closer. "Nino is not a bad kid, just a bit of a rascal at times". "A rascal with a sweet tooth" Franziska adds and we share another laughter. "I'm so sorry he interrupted your private session the other day. Franziska had quite a fair share of work to do and I was indisposed in my room, I couldn't look after him as I usually do". I dismiss her apologies, taking a sip of tea. "But it was fun, wasn't it?" I wink at Nino who chuckles. "Yes and she sings very well, Ma" he says, turning to his mother. "Of course, I heard her too from my room" she smiles. "She's a promise of the opera, it's written on the newspapers". "Sing again?" the little boy begs, expectantly. His childish enthusiasm amuses me. "I cannot do those trills now, I need to warm up my voice first" I apologise, before winking. "Another time, I promise". Lia whispers something into his ear and he thanks me, concealing his disappointment. Crumbs are stuck on his lips and make the smile that follows a bit funnier than it was supposed to be. "Now, sweetheart, why don't you follow Franziska back to the kitchen?" She says, stroking his curls. "Take another biscuit and she will give you a glass of milk, just as you like it, huh?". She doesn't have to say it twice: while the maid gently places and arm around his shoulders, guiding him away, he takes not one but two biscuits in his hands. He throws me a conspiratorial look before chuckling. Then he turns towards Lia and stretches his neck to kiss her cheek. She caresses his face and tells him to be good with Franziska. When the two of them are out of the room, she meets my gaze again, shaking hear head. "Apologies, Miss...I sent Franziska to buy these for you this morning and he managed to put his eyes on them. He became obsessed". "Kids" I shrug, unbothered. I am pleasantly impressed that she had such a kind gesture towards me. I mean it could be a way to get on my good side because of the news she has to give me...but after all, this situation is not her fault. Her husband left her to deal with this and me all alone. She turns serious and sighs. "Anyway, have you heard of the flooding near Salzburg?". "What?". "Torrential rain lead to conspicuous floodings in the area surrounding Salzburg. I don't know if Giorgio mentioned it to you but he head there after your session for a family emergency....his brother lives there". "I'm afraid he didn't say a thing about his little journey" I say, trying my hardest not to look angered, even if I am: I would have rather be informed sooner of such details. By the look on her face I can tell she expected such an answer. "He surely thought he would be back in time today, he didn't mention staying for long. But during the night the weather deteriorated and the roads are pretty much impracticable, so to speak. We've just received a note saying he will be back as soon as travelling conditions are restored and the emergency solved. Probably a couple of days...maybe more? He must have sent you a similar one, you just missed it because you were on your way here already". "A couple of days? Maybe more?" I exclaim. That's not promising... "The rehearsals start in a week" I frown. "I still need to practise...". "You are free to do it here if you wish, Miss" she suggests, apologetic yet encouraging. "I am perfectly aware this is a hideous setback for you with such a tight schedule. You must believe me when I say I wish we never put you in this situation...if there's anything I can do, Miss, ask away. I'm not my husband but...". I consider her words for a moment. My mind runs wild to find a solution for this unexpected unfavourable circumstance. I could find another maestro maybe but how, within such a short notice and little time before official rehearsals begin? I could do it on my own but another sudden foolish idea crosses my mind. "Do you play the cello, Mrs. Lia?" I must have taken her by surprise by the look on her face. She tries to conceal it, refilling her cup. "Why, yes. My father was a musician, I took cello classes in my youth but I don't see how this-". "Excellent! Then you can take your husband's place until the he’s back" I exclaim, cutting her short. My words must come as a shock: she almost spits her tea. "Beg pardon, Miss?". "You will be my maestro, well understudy maestro for the time being" I smile, explaining. "You said yourself that you can play the cello, you can assist me as I practice". "But...but I don't have my husband expertise" she objects, at loss of words. "You heard me practicing with your husband, right? So you must know how it should sound. And that aside, you can even tell yourself if my performance is good or not: you have ears too, if I am not mistaken". She opens her mouth to say something, anything to make me change my mind and spare her such thing...but nothing comes. Her lips presses together for a moment before she places her cup back on the table. "Very well, then...if you think it would work" she smiles weakly. "Just be patient with me: I do not usually play opera arias".

#wlw writing #wlw writing project #wlw miniseries #original work #lgbtqa+#vienna #opera

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rebellect-writes · 4 years ago

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[SIZE=1] [b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] 21. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] I blame Danni AND Joe.

[b]Name:[/b] Victoria Eden Moreau. [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b][LIST]Eden Morrison; Fake ID, obviously. Tori Babe. Vicky. Toria. Psychotic Hell-Bitch. [/LIST][b]Age:[/b] 35 [b]Date of Birth:[/b] August 7th, 1977. [b]Gender:[/b] Female. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Heterosexual. [b]Occupation:[/b] High school PE teacher, former supernatural and occult hunter.

[b]Species:[/b] Lion. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ERJonp0xx1s/Tnqd6kffXjI/AAAAAAAAArE/NWtjP-3SVXo/s640/002-LIONESS-RESTING%2540body.jpg[/IMG][LIST]If it looks like a lion, smells like a lion and growls like a lion, it’s obviously a domestic house cat ready to bite your face off. Victoria’s animal form is pretty average, there’s nothing remotely distinctive about her. She may look a bit ragged at time, but the large tawny gold cat is hardly going to blend in with the UK scenery no matter what. In her feline form, she weighs in at 400lbs of muscle and tamed aggression and stands at 3’6 at the shoulders. From her nose to the tip of her tail, Vic’s a pretty average 8’3. [/LIST][b]Do you have a hybrid/alpha form?:[/b] [URL=http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2010/136/b/b/__Lioness_Line_art___by_sirius_spirit.jpg]Indeed she does.[/URL][LIST]Her hybrid form is more for show than anything else, just something to give her a little extra kick when her full feline form doesn’t provide her with it. She doesn’t turn into some raging half beast, half woman form either. Standing a little taller than her human form at 5’11, and weighing in at 280lbs, she’s covered from head to toe in golden fur and looks like the perfect mix of feline and human. She has claws in this form, never forget that, and fangs, and oh! She can talk even though it’s a lot more growly than her human voice is. [/LIST][b]Rank:[/b] Adwar. [b]How long has your character been a lycanthrope?:[/b] 24 years (infected at age 9). [b]Mind-Set:[/b] Dominant. [b]Power level:[/b] Alpha. [b]Abilities:[/b] [LIST] [*] [b]Speed:[/b] Like all lycanthropes, she’s fast on her feet and can move faster than the human eye can see if she uses her alpha speed. [*] [b]Strength:[/b] She’s stronger than your normal human. She’s not the strongest lycanthrope out there due to her size, but she can go head to head with a vampire and with a bit of luck, over power them. [*] [b]Durability:[/b] Victoria can heal almost any wound like most shifters can, bar decapitation and wounds caused by fire and silver. Wounds caused by more dominant lycanthropes and vampires heal slower. Almost human slow. [*] [b]Senses:[/b] Vic has extremely acute senses like most shifters. She can sometimes tell when someone’s lying to her face by the change in the other persons scent. [*] [b]Partial Shifting:[/b] She can shift hands and teeth into those of her animal or focus on shifting into a full blown hybrid form instead of a full shift from human to lion. [*] [b]Block A Vampires Call:[/b] It takes a bit of energy on her side but she can block out the call of a vampire up to 900 years old and extend that shielding to weaker werelions. Anything over 900 hurts her too much to block. [*] [b]Shield her Beast:[/b] She can lock her animal aura away and pull off the human vibe to most lycanthropes except from stronger alphas, and in some cases, stronger Master vampires since from her experience, they can force her lion to show itself. She does this on a day to day basis when it comes to her job. [/LIST][b]Face Claim:[/b] Charlize Theron. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://www.topnews.in/light/files/Charlize-Theron5.jpg[/IMG][LIST]Victoria isn’t that outstanding to tell you the truth. She’s almost you’re typical blonde – though she’s got a thing for dying her hair other colours at times. She’s got the curves and the legs but the eyes, they’re not human. As a result of staying in her animal form when she as younger for longer than she should, her eyes are those of her lion’s. Of course, she hides them behind hazel green contacts that she never takes out unless she has to do so, she knows better. She’s pretty slim; and only 5’9, and a half inches tall, weighing in at 140lbs of toned muscle, that it’s pretty easy to work out that she’s fond of working out and keeping fit.

She’s not one for style; Vic just doesn’t understand the appeal of having the latest fashion accessories. Of course that doesn’t mean she doesn’t splash out on things like makeup now and then, but that’s purely for work interviews, she finds it works a hell of a lot better being ‘appealing’ then being herself. Whatever works huh? She’s more comfortable in reliable jeans and t-shirts; a nice pair of boots doesn’t go amiss or a leather jacket. Since she’s hung up her hunting gear though, there are fewer holsters for weapons. When she’s at work, its sports gear. Tracksuits for when it’s cold out, shorts and polo-shirts when it’s warmer.

Identifying marks are a little easier to describe. She has her fair share of scars, though most are long since faded. The most notable ones are what look to be claw marks curving down over her right hip. They’re just three jagged lines really, and she doesn’t talk about them ever. Her second most notable scar was given to her by a hunter that thought he was being clever and had all the time in the world, he put a silver hunting knife through her shoulder and left it there so it burnt her after he’d incapacitated her. Now, she’s not a fan of big tattoos but she does have two small ones of her own. A koi fish above her right ankle, and a small flower on the top of her right foot. The flower was gotten on a whim, but the koi is supposed to represent strength, determination, and persistence in the face of adversity. The only other thing that comes to mind is that her ears are pierced twice on both sides. [/LIST][b]Weapons of Choice:[/b][LIST] [*] Fangs, claws, full blown lion form. It’s fun to get messy! [*] She rarely hunts these days, so she’s hung up her holsters. [*] She does have a butterfly knife she carries regularly. [*] Has a necklace with a small vial of holy water attached. Just in case. [*] A white gold charm bracelet with holy items from different faiths. [/LIST][b]Special Skills:[/b][LIST] [*] She used to – and still does if a hunt crops up that tickles her fancy – ingests holy water to stop vampires from taking a bite out of her. Since she hasn’t hunted anything since late 2008, it’s not going to bother any vampires unless she starts up again. [*] She knows how to fight, mostly brawling and that’s what she relies on. However she’s dabbled in Krav Maga (grade: G1), and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (grade: Purple belt) over the last 10 years. It always surprises people when they learn this. [*] She can speak French and Italian, not fluently but enough to get by, she’s also learning German and in the future, hopefully Spanish unless she forgets. [*] Gets and knows the basics when using guns. She’s more a blade kind of girl anyway. [*] Not a half bad thief, - when she needs the money - if she does say so herself. [*] Did a three year “general” sports course followed by her PGCE and QTS. She’s pretty proud of that, so don’t knock it! [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b] [LIST]Victoria isn’t actually that loud of a person in most respects, she’s the type of person that would rather sit and wait and have something to say rather than open her mouth and spew a bunch of pointless words just to hear the sound of her own voice. Then again, she was an ‘attack dog’ for a long time, and when you’re beat as a kid to learn how to hold your tongue, things sort of stick to you. When she speaks, she doesn’t raise her voice in anger unless it’s to get a point across – and when she does need to get a point across it’s normally accompanied by a blunt object of some sort if need be -, but she does get listened to. It just another part of whom she is, people just think she doesn’t have something to say when in actual fact; she’s just watching and waiting for a chance to pounce. She knows that she’s not the most relaxed of people, that’s for sure. However when you get past the creepy silence, she does brighten up a bit. She’s a loyal lass and keeps her word, even though she has her trust issues, but she doesn’t always think things through fully. She’s used to bulldozing her way through issues in her life, and then dealing with the fallout afterwards. Protective of what’s hers. Practical and strong willed she’s not likely to be cowed by someone playing mind games; in fact the last time someone tried that, she broke their arm without blinking.

She even smiles, though it’ll often be accompanied with a wiseass remark or comment. It is almost like she’s care free and forgets about all the crap she’s gone through to get where she is today. She’s loving and caring, hell she even cares though it doesn’t normally come off as most would expect it from a she-cat that could snap at a moment’s notice and become a big cat. While it may look like she has no control over her animal side, she’s got it, people have assumed that she has next to none and that has been their downfall. Oh yeah, she’s more than a little mental! If you push her, she’ll push back, only most people seem to forget she’s more on the animal side then most shapeshifters are and she loves that. She’s not afraid of her animal instincts and embraces them to the point that sometimes she doesn’t want to be human anymore but then she sees what she has and pushes to be normal.

Her views on vampires are slightly [i]skewed[/i] however. Having been used by a lion calling master for years, she has a distaste for anything over a hundred years old, sure she can curb her tongue and be civil to the creatures but present her with a lion caller – even Mikhail got snapped at – and she’ll do everything in her power to make it clear that she won’t become another and she won’t allow anyone in the Pride to be one either. This can be displayed in sarcasticness, threats and violence and promises of death. She just doesn’t like the creatures that can bend her like a crazy straw if it suited them. It’s driven by fear, something she’s not exactly sure how to react to and falls back on her more comforting animal nature to deal with it. As far as the rest of the supernatural world, well, as long as they don’t try and harass the Pride or start something they can’t finish with the people she cares about then she won’t bother them. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b][LIST] [*] Swimming. [*] A good strong drink after a hunt. [*] Taking to the country roads on her bike and just driving until she can't. [*] Making known bullies fear her. Doesn't matter if they're kids or adults or anything else. [*] Spending time in her lion form, she doesn't do it as much as she used to do so. [*] When she can surprise someone by doing something. [*] Reading when she can get five minutes peace, normally during first break at work. [*] Not being dragged into supernatural turf wars, she joined the pride to stop that. [*] Protecting the Jackford pride. Bradon Mackenzie gave her a home. [*] Chinese food. Don’t ask her why, she just does. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b][LIST] [*] Getting a ticket because she’s left her bike in the wrong place. [*] People that don't pull their own weight. You either sink or swim. [*] Being touched in lion form by people she doesn't know. She tends to bite [*] Having to clean her apartment. If it doesn't bother her, she doesn't bother it! [*] Parent/Teacher night. She'd take a feral shifter over that. [*] Doctors and medical types. Being poked and prodded? No thanks. [*] Being cornered. Have you ever seen an angry lion cornered? It's not nice. [*] Vampires that force themselves on others. It's not so bad when it’s voluntary. [*] Poor weapons maintenance. What is wrong with some people? [*] Being told she's over emotional just because she's female. [/LIST] [b]Strengths:[/b] [LIST] [*] Very familiar with her feline form, she shifts quicker because of this. [*] Doesn’t care if she gets hurt. In fact, she’d put herself in the firing line to save people she cares for. [*] Good tracking skills, urban or otherwise. [*] Isn’t easily backed down with threats and tends to laugh when they’re given. [*] Trusts her gut instinct rather than follow others unless she trusts them. [*] Loyal to people she trusts. Sometimes, even to those that just put up enough money. [*] She can hold her tongue and temper in check if she wants. [*] Knows a bit about witchcraft and the herbs used in most healing balms. [*] Very fast and agile, good for when she’s working with heights in the gym. [*] Still has a fair few contacts from her days as a hunter that she calls up when needed. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b] [LIST] [*] She has a bit of a one track mind at times. [*] Doesn’t always notice when she’s treading on thin ice. [*] Silver. She may’ve been a lion for a long time, but that stuff still hurts. [*] Comes off antisocial at times. [*] Her anger issues tend to put a crimp in certain things. [*] She doesn't have a good grasp on that 'relationship' thing. It's been [*] Practical in a way, she won’t blink twice at putting someone down if it means protecting others. Even if she's seen as a monster afterwards. [*] Doesn't trust many people at her back. There’s like four people out of billions. [*] Tends to spend a lot of time in her lion form, pushing the limits. [*] Can rarely tame that persistent stubborn streak. [/LIST][b]History:[/b] [LIST]Thomas and Natalie Moreau never took another hunt once they found out that they were due to have a baby together. They were hunters by blood, marriage and by trade; they did everything to stop the supernatural from infecting their ‘world’ and to keep people safe, but they would not endanger their soon to be daughter and in the august of 1977, their baby girl Victoria was brought into the world kicking and screaming like any normal babe and her parents officially hung up their weapons holsters and retired as hunters. Thomas took on a new job as a property developer that worked in and around Lancaster where they lived, and Natalie worked full time as a house wife. Together they doted on their child as Victoria grew up, giving her anything and everything that she wanted. Like any princess, she even had a pony at one point.

The happy little family however was torn apart just before Victoria’s ninth birthday, as the small farm house that the family owned was torn apart by rogue werelions and wolves, headed by a particularly vicious vampire who seemed to know all about her parents who were shocked by his apparent survival. The scariest thing of all for Victoria wasn’t that lions were everywhere or big werewolves; it was the Asian vampire Khan. The right side of his face was thick with holy water scars, the eye socket a gaping hole and mouth a jagged gash. Khan was one of the very few vampires that had ever escaped her parents, and he delighted on tearing through her mother’s mind and body as a werelion held her father back. When Khan was done with Natalie, he turned his attention to Victoria and forced a rather nasty looking lionman to tear into her young body before simply snapping her father’s neck. She should’ve died, would’ve died except werewolf alpha Jacques Rousseau had other ideas.

The wolf didn't take pity on her, far from it. When Victoria regained full consciousness now and again, she was told that she was Khan's new 'pet'. What better way to scare off hunters than by using the spawn of two fairly vicious hunters against them, it was put to her, before she was told that she had only survived because she'd contracted lycanthropy. Being a young lass, she didn't believe it. She screamed and raged and howled for her parents thinking it was a bad dream. It was only really brought home when Jacques, sick of the whelps screaming brought in a lion to teach her a lesson. Miranda was only slightly less cold than the werewolf, but under orders, she tore the beast from Victoria's body. Over and over, and over. Eventually, Victoria started to submit and forget about being who she really was and it was exactly what Khan wanted. Oh he had his pride and pack of bumbling misfits that had been thrown from their various clans for treasonous acts or for having broken the law, be he didn't have one animal at his command that would do simply as he asked, no if's buts or maybes.

By age 14, Victoria was a feral but suitably tamed little lion. She would sit pretty for Khan when he wanted to make a point in a business deal and she’d attack when given the order. Her first real kill wasn’t a goat or even a chicken; it was a frail old woman that owed Khan housing rent for staying in a housing complex he owned. Victoria snapped her neck and left her body where it dropped much to Khan’s displeasure and as a punishment she was put in the fight rings that one of his acquaintances ran. She tried her best, she really did. She’d gone from a pampered princess as a human, to a killer. Her fall from grace was bloody and violent and was brought to a sudden stop when she was put face to face with a full grown adult and alpha lion in the ring. She survived, but was sold on for being a failure to Master Khan and everything that she had been trained to hold dear.

After being past from vampire to vampire, and even the occasional knowledgeable human that knew of the supernatural and dabbled, Victoria ended up on a black market of sorts, nothing but a lost cause. She was stuck in a small cage for days, surrounded by other troubled souls such as herself, left to starve and in filth. Supernatural species of all shapes and sizes came and went sold off to the highest bidder as slaves that worked, fucked and various other things or prey for something else altogether. She even had a plan; she was going to attack the first handler she could get her hands on and hopefully have one of them kill her. Except, instead of a handler that came through the backstage area, it was something else entirely. He was young enough if a little older than herself, he was scared going by his scent, and he was…attractive for a human stumbling around in the dark. He changed her life the moment she had his scent. He left her alone in a loading bay however, such a hero for being forced into a nightmare of a fairy tale.

Free of the life she knew, Victoria did something that went against everything that had been beaten into her. She ran. For over two years she lived wild and on the move, most of her time in lion form and when she had to return to human form, she stole what she needed to survive on her own. Clothes from washing lines, food from market stalls if a hunt failed and the like, she even went as far for a while as to steal and fence property for money even though she never really needed it. However it worked out for her, though when she noticed that her eyes had stuck as those of her lions, she made it a personal mission to stay in human form more and more to get used to that form again. She even tried to talk to people; mostly farmers or hikers that crossed into her ‘territory’ at the time.

Once she was happy that she could return to being around people, Victoria ended up in Cardiff where she befriended a young couple that had lost their children to supposed gang violence and were so down on their luck that she couldn’t not help them even though she was barely considered an adult herself at the time. What the couple didn’t know was that it was supernaturally related violence that lost them their kids, so Victoria being the stereotypical cat riddled with curiosity looked into for them while she helped fight off bailiffs and other idiots that wanted to break her friends down more. She followed her gut instincts and tracked down the people that had been known as suspects in the community. It was teens mostly, desperate to rebel against the rules that their parents had set down but then she hit a lucky break, a werefox informant came forward to talk to her. Well, it was more warn her away from snooping because things would get ‘unpleasant’. She threw that fox out of a second story window… and then went back to searching.

It took her a year and she was roughly eighteen when she found the person that had ordered her ‘friends’ children be removed – her cat had claimed them as Pride even though she hadn’t known them long at all – and was marginally surprised to find out that it was a werelion male. The dominance battle was brutal; she was only a young woman and not used to the fighting the male easily won and inserted his dominance over her, claimed her as his ‘mate’ even though she’d clawed on of his eyes out with her own fingers. It was a huge leap and all that was really expected of her was to open her legs, be a submissive little waif of a woman that cowered behind the big bad lion. Well, she did as what was expected of her and after he was finished removed his head from his shoulders using the element of surprise. She disbanded the males operation – yes, in some cases she used violence – and the money that had been going towards other things, she sent to her friends before vanishing.

Bouncing around the UK for the next four years, Victoria picked up odd hunts here and there. A fey running a coven of witches and assuming Godhood over a town was dealt with, a Naga in Devon was told to move on because he’d started a turf war with the local snake clan. It was silly stuff really but the payment was ok. She managed to grab a job on an international freighter headed for America, and by the time she was 22 she landed her rear in Flordia. No papers, no money that she could spend easily, she was effectively back to when she was released from that cage by the scardy cat of a boy. It didn’t last long, America was so different and there was a lot of supernatural activity as well as human crime. She made her way as a supernatural bounty hunter of sorts, and not the legal kind most of the time. She was a monster hunting monsters, ironic huh?

Twenty three years old, she was still roaming the USA like she had done in the UK. Only this time she was more well off; and while she wanted to settle down somewhere she couldn’t unless she contacted the Pride that controlled that area. From what she’d seen since she’d actually come to the States, was that most of the USA Lions were a mite traditional, meaning that it was the woman’s job to do all the work. Since she had no interest of being a Pride gofer, she just spent her time on the road, staying in motels for a week or so or squatting in old properties. That’s when she got an interesting hunt, and came across someone she’d never thought to see again. Jothial Chapman. The little boy that had freed her had filled out, he was a man now and if she hadn’t got up close and personal to catch his scent, she wouldn’t have really known that it was him.

Stubborn male pressed her buttons though, and rather than outright kill him, she threw him through a wall and opened herself up to attack from the beast that she was hunting. She almost lost her life that night, and would’ve done so if her lycanthropic healing hadn’t worked its wonders on her battered body. She watched as Jo blasted the creature to nothing but ash and cinders before she even hinted that she knew him. Of course, it came out that she was a werelion and a hunter, and he was a bit iffy about the fact in her mind. Victoria expected him to kill her for being evil, instead they teamed up together and took on the evil that thought it could get past the Witch and the Lion.

They were together a year, hunting monsters that broke the laws of various things, putting themselves in the line of danger. What she failed to act on was the feelings that had stirred in her by being in close quarters to Jo. She never acted on them because she didn’t know how even though they were pretty intimate. She gave him and his creepy familiar the space and time they needed and Jo gave her the same thing. Honestly, Victoria would’ve said something sooner if she hadn’t made herself visible to a vampire that could control lions in the area. The last time she saw Jo was he was drooling into his motel pillow and that marked the end of that. She vanished without a trace using every means necessary to avoid detection. She hadn’t left him out of anger or anything; she’d left him because she was scared that the vampire would use her against him.

She ran from one vampire and lions and into another vampire, and ironically it was another lion caller a year or so later. This one was different though, he was older than anything she’d come across and Mikhail seemed just as surprised that she was a lion working as a bounty hunter. Victoria found herself drawn to this one, he didn’t abuse his people and he claimed New York as his city. Rather than run off again or try and kill him, Victoria struck up a bargain with the vampire master. She’d work for him as security and a hunter if she was needed as long as he didn’t try to call her and bend her to his will. Mikhail agreed and they went their separate ways for awhile. While in New York City, Victoria settled down in her first real apartment. She didn’t want to run anymore, but she had no idea what to do. Making that apartment as her base of operations, she spent the next few years learning how to be normal. She got a job, went to night school, made a few friends that weren’t anything that she was used to. They were simply normal. She did get called in to do some hunts for Mikhail every now and then, but they were neither here nor there.

Then in 2005, she returned to the UK after saying goodbye to Mikhail and the lions that she’d grown used to more confident in herself and happy enough. There was an ulterior motive for her return though; Mikhail wanted her to pass through a place called Jackford every now and again to make sure one of his fledglings in the local Kiss was doing ok and rather than argue or brush him off with a smile and a nod, Victoria agreed on the understanding that she wouldn’t tie herself to one place for so long unless he helped her out finding a reason to stay. By the end of July ’05 she was studying to become a Physical Education teacher after a brief course as a teaching assistant at primary school in York - which wasn't that far from Jackford so it suited her - but maybe she should’ve been clearer in what she wanted huh? She didn't stay there for long and by the end of 2010 she was a full-fledged teacher working at Jackford’s comprehensive high school teaching children about sports and how to stay healthy three days a week and spending the rest of the week bouncing between Pride duty and her own time, which she used as time to search for the odd hunt to keep her claws sharp and she's stayed there ever since ducking and dodging the crazy that was worse than her. [/LIST][/SIZE]

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diveronarpg · 5 years ago

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In fair Verona, our tale begins with CASSIAN BHATT, who is THIRTY years old. He is often called CASSIUS by the CAPULETS and works as their SOLDIER. He uses HE/HIM pronouns.

He never loved his father, not even as a child. Perhaps it was their differences, a long list he’s kept since the moment he could write. Maybe it was the way Cassian had always detested what other little boys his age lived for—playing catch, riding their bikes, skinning their knees with kids in the neighborhood—and instead found comfort in the logic and reason between book pages far more interesting. One would think an avid reader would have adored a son who took to written word just as he, but the division always came down to one thing. Preference. His was non-fiction. REALITY. Looking to the clouds, Cassian never saw some great, profound potential, nor fluffy animals and fun shapes like other children; what he saw was weather patterns. Mother Nature rearing its ugly head on those too stupid to know they’re hurting her. He saw a world wrought with misconception, filled with beasts and famine. Misrepresentation of the plague an entire people had reaped by being WEAK. He had no time for their dreams, for their wild imaginations, or their incessant need to color outside the lines—just like his father. A renowned professor who always asked the two simple questions, what if? and why? He sought out the answers of the universe, pondered the wonders of man’s most celebrated philosophers as he spoke at colleges and universities throughout Cassian’s youth. And while his father loved language, too, written word to eat up with his hands like a barbarian, he also favored the unthinkable: man is good, man is worthy, man is trying. His son knew better. And he preferred a fork and knife when he consumed his DOCTRINES.

It was only fitting his mother was a POLITICIAN, another lover of words, but spoken to the masses with the conviction only a snake could possess, spinning lies into truths with such flawless execution. Part of him was proud, as he aged and watched her take over the whole city, secretly wanting to do exactly the same thing. Afforded the best possible education, Cassian spent his teenage years not with his nose exactly in a book, but at dinner parties where the guests were the best names in Science. The most progressive thinkers on cancer research were regulars of his parent’s Saturday night euchre party and the highest ranking government officials spent two weeks in the summer at their villa in Naples. And that’s not to say he spent these nights hidden in a corner, keeping to himself so as to not disturb theSHARPEST minds in the world—no. Cassian offered the quickest of wit, the most illustrious of answers to their questions, a rigorous debate over gender politics once ensuing one Sunday during brunch. He’d said something scandalous like society is the only reason we conform so strictly to such labels, nearly causing the bulging blood vessel in the poor, old cazzo’s forehead pop. He met the man with bared teeth, smug grin plastered along his reckless features. Without abandon, that’s how he always spoke, but only when it counted. Only when he knew his breath wasn’t going to be WASTED.

He dealt in cruelty the more he aged, grinding it out of the bones he deemed less than, those not worthy of his time then suffering the worst FATE of all: his attention. It was rare that one could easily draw his gaze; Cassian is not readily amused, if ever. He deals in facts, in history and how it so clearly repeats, saving little time and even less energy for brevity, for romance or comedy. But when you dare to look a monster in the eye, when you issue that kind of challenge, when you provoke a man who takes pride in evisceration, one gets exactly what they bargain for: DESTRUCTION. He harnessed this power by way of making the rules bend to his will, not a creator of such a power, but someone strong enough to wield—to tame such a brutal thing. Law school was met with eager ears and a hollow hunger in his chest, a craving for knowledge making a home in his throat, never to leave again. But he put it to use when he ran his mother’s second campaign and managed a full schedule with the ease and grace only a man meant to rule the world could possibly possess. And it was a dangerous thing at that, the poise with which Cassian carried himself, with such avarice for not money butINTELLIGENCE. The smartest man in the room, that was what he truly wished to be, and it wasn’t too hard assert such dominance with the title of dottore of the Law now fashioned securely on his shelf.

It didn’t take long for him to have to put his newfound degree to the test, in fact it came the moment his mother’s name was SLANDERED in the press. Dragged through the mud so clearly by the opposition that he couldn’t not defend her, if for no other reason than not a soul speaks ill of the Bhatt name whilst he still has air in his lungs. His father may have soiled it with his prophesying and idealizing, but Cassian and his mother—though she loved the man for some reason; he can’t imagine why—still had something left of their lives to need Bhatt free and clear of any skeletons in its closet. Suing for libel, he won the case in record time, his words more convincing than that of the piss poor District Attorney who dared to try and poke holes in the confidence of a man with EVERYTHING to lose. So he took the sad sack’s job instead, convincing his boss to offer it up in under ten minutes flat. I just beat him, he’d said with a smug smile. And? he’d asked, brows raised at the sheer audacity of this sore winner. I can do the same for you. And with that, he had him. The position was his and he’d stood in the hallway of the courthouse, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, watching as the fool lost everything. True power doesn’t come from giving orders, nor does it come from brandishing fine weapons or throwing mean fists; it comes from being the best, and Cassian Bhatt is just that. PERFECT in every way imaginable. Just ask him yourself.

LILLIAN WEN: Fiancée. A trophy, something to show off, to place upon his mantle with pride and evidence of his of true ambition. She is that and not much more, but what a pretty face indeed. Glistening like a diamond, he’ll wear her around town if for no other reason than how good she looks with his Versace loafers. Lillian is a prize he thinks he’s won, but he’s yet to cross the finish line. Don’t bite the hand that feeds, and silly boy, does she ever feed yours. Gloat all he wants, parade her around like a doll and forget all she’s giving him, but if Cassian isn’t careful his intricate little plan will foil right before his eyes as she walks out the door. There’s only so far to push someone standing on the edge of integrity. Best he start appreciating the good deed that’s come his way before it blows up in his lap. He can’t survive another tarnish on his good name, not after how hard he’s worked to clear it. Cherish her, Mr. Bhatt, lest you lose the one thing to make you look halfway decent: a good woman to love you.

MONA CHEN & TIBERIUS CAPULET: Extortionist & Captain. She has pictures, hundreds of them, and despite his best efforts to seize them time and time again—even going so far as to hire the best thief money can possibly buy—they remain in her possession. Kept taught between her palms, held tightly against her chest, used to pull the strings of a man not used to answering to God or anyone, let alone a Madame. But she’s smart, he’ll give Mona that, always protecting her Sparrows first even if it means ruining a good man’s reputation in the process. He has no other choice than to obey, no other option than to come to heel and kneel before her and her boss. Though it’s his captain he’s more worried about. Cosimo’s nephew isn’t a man he wants to find the bad side of, but he’s well on his way if he doesn’t do his part. If he doesn’t do exactly as she says, execute every single order perfectly, it’ll be his ass that’ll need saving. Not hers from whatever sort of wrath he thinks he can come up with to outsmart the most clever woman in Verona. Nor Tiberius’ from whatever power play the lawyer thinks the heir won’t see coming. Checkmate, Cassian.

CRISTIAN DE LUCA: Interest. He’s never been one to lust after kingdoms, preferring to stick to the shadows as a powerful entity of demise with the flick of his wrist not a booming voice. Cassian wishes to be flocked to, praised for his deeds not his ability to bring people to their needs but his knack for dissecting the brain, its desires and every machination. He sees something quite similar in Cristian, and it’s so very enticing, so exhilarating to spot a creature just like himself out here in the wild. He wants to know more, see more, hear more from the man who has done nothing but kick up dust in the subtlest of ways since his feet landed on Italian soil. Pulling at the strings of chaos is his specialty, but to watch a man so apt at his favorite wicked game is exciting to say the least. He knows the man’s allegiance, on which side of the bridge his loyalties lie, but when have rules ever stopped Cassian from getting what he wants? And what he wants is a look inside that beautiful Montague mind.

TAMURA CHIKO: War dog. Be careful with that one, they bite. Of this Cassian is positive, what with how many times he’s been on the receiving end of such sharp teeth. But there’s something lurking behind those eyes, he’s sure of it, if only he could just—no. They don’t let him. With an arm outstretched, Chiko keeps him at a distance, and with good reason. He’s every bit as dangerous as he looks, a serpent slithering beneath the shade of the brush, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce; and sink his fangs into their neck he will. Dio does he want to, oh, so very much. There’s something so fascinating about their restraint, their constant will to never break composure. They are a puzzle Cassian is desperate to find all the pieces to, if only to marvel at his handiwork for having put it together. Paying no mind to the wreckage looking at such a visceral image could cause. They are everything his opposite, all violent combat and trigger fingers. He wonders what it would be like to hunt a creature like that. Satisfying, he muses.

Cassian is portrayed by RANVEER SINGH and was written by SIDNEY. He is DECEASED.

#ranveer singh fc #bio rp #mafia rp #literate rp #lsrpg #cassian bhatt #d

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caddyxjellyby · 7 years ago

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Alcott Readathon 2018: An Old-Fashioned Girl (1869)

Alcott’s third or fourth depending on how you count Good Wives novel, featuring cane-shaking, a menage a trois, and America’s favorite fighting Frenchman. Polly Arrives Fanny tells Tom to pick up Polly from the station. Tom says "She'll think you cared more about your frizzles than your friends, and she'll be about right, too." Fanny says "If I was the President, I'd make a law to shut up all boys till they were grown; for they certainly are the most provoking toads in the world." I wonder what Tom means by wearing a thingumbob? A veil maybe? The naughty boy tells Polly the hack-driver is tipsy so he won’t have to sit with her. It boggles my mind that a fourteen year old would refer to herself as a “little girl.” I suppose back them children didn’t have to bend over backwards to be taken seriously. That is, if you refer to yourself as a little girl people won’t take you seriously. But if they just do it as a given you don’t bend over backwards to earn it. Polly sings for Madam Shaw, the grandmother, and they talk about how they were brought up properly unlike the Shaw siblings. Madam Shaw doesn’t approve of children calling their father Papa. What the fuck. I bet “the old man” would make her spontaneously combust. The girls see a vulgar play; Polly doesn’t understand half the jokes, and the girls on stage are dressed as jockeys, which I think means wearing trousers. Scandalous. Madam Shaw praises her innocence.

New Fashions

Apparently eyeglasses were trendy in 1869. Polly follows Fanny to school, where the girls gossip about Carrie who ran away with an Italian music teacher.

Fanny: "I like to read about such things; but it's so inconvenient to have it happen right here, because it makes it harder for us. I wish you could have heard my papa go on. He threatened to send a maid to school with me every day, as they do in New York, to be sure I come all right. Did you ever?"

Belle: "That's because it came out that Carrie used to forge excuses in her mamma's name, and go promenading with her Oreste, when they thought her safe at school. Oh, wasn't she a sly minx?"

Trix: "I think a little fun is all right; and there's no need of making a talk, if, now and then, some one does run off like Carrie. Boys do as they like; and I don't see why girls need to be kept so dreadfully close. I'd like to see anybody watching and guarding me!" GO TRIX KEEPING GIRLS THE SLIGHTEST BIT “CLOSER’ THAN BOYS IS PSYCHOLOGICALLY HARMFUL AND DISRESPECTFUL. ...I have a lot of feels about gender and child-rearing, okay? Okay. The constant ads for the Blockers movie keep bringing it to mind. (Kathryn Newton, the most recent Amy March, is in it.) The Bostonians gush over some exciting novels; Polly doesn’t know them. Polly: "My mother says a real gentleman is as polite to a little girl as to a woman; so I like Mr. Sydney best, because he was kind to me." I want that embroidered. “Polly was not a model girl by any means” Sure, Louisa. The kids say ain’t a lot. Creosote sent my mind straight to Discworld. Polly’s Troubles Polly wished the children would be kinder to grandma; but it was not for her to tell them so, although it troubled her a good deal, and she could only try to make up for it by being as dutiful and affectionate as if their grandma was her own. Awww. The fact that they name their sleds is adorable. Me, I’ve never been a person to name inanimate objects, other than occasionally referring to something as the precious. Fan reads Lady Audley’s Secret. "I shouldn't think you'd make him laugh, when he's always making you cwy," observed Maud, who had just come in. Good one, Maud. Little Things Polly is a perfect child who can do no wrong, except spend some money on bronze boots instead of presents for her family. We learn that she has a dead brother named Jimmy. They studied Latin together so she helps Tom with his. Tom falls off his new velocipede and hits his head. Polly holds it while a doctor gives him stitches. Scrapes AFTER being unusually good, children are apt to turn short round and refresh themselves by acting like Sancho. For a week after Tom's mishap, the young folks were quite angelic, so much so that grandma said she was afraid "something was going to happen to them." I kind of loathe this line of thinking? If you want children to be good, don’t insult them by not trusting them. Polly, if you’ve never had to lie to your parents then you know you have good parents, and not everybody is like you. A boy sends Fanny flowers and that’s unacceptable. “I'll send you to school in a Canadian convent,” says Mr. Shaw. Oh boy. Tom dresses up in Fanny’s outfit, then they and Maud look at Polly’s journal, which is full of sketches of the family and friends, and Polly’s thoughts on Fan. If she would be as she was when I first knew her, I should love her just the same; but she isn't kind to me; and though she is always talking about politeness, I don't think it is polite to treat company as she does me. She thinks I am odd and countrified, and I dare say I am; but I shouldn't laugh at a girl's clothes because she was poor, or keep her out of the way because she didn't do just as other girls do here. I see her make fun of me, and I can't feel as I did; and I'd go home, only it would seem ungrateful to Mr. Shaw and grandma, and I do love them dearly." Grandma Tom was reposing on the sofa with his boots in the air, absorbed in one of those delightful books in which boys are cast away on desert islands, where every known fruit, vegetable and flower is in its prime all the year round; or, lost in boundless forests, where the young heroes have thrilling adventures, kill impossible beasts, and, when the author's invention gives out, suddenly find their way home, laden with tiger skins, tame buffaloes and other pleasing trophies of their prowess. The Shaw kids find Polly up in Grandma’s room, listening to her stories. They’re like you never told us that story and Grandma’s like you never asked. "At eight o'clock on the appointed evening, several of us professed great weariness, and went to our room, leaving the rest sewing virtuously with Miss Cotton, who read Hannah More's Sacred Dramas aloud, in a way that fitted the listeners for bed as well as a dose of opium would have done.”Surprisingly snarky Grandma. "Wait for your turn, Tommy. Now, Polly, dear, what will you have?" said grandma, looking, so lively and happy, that it was very evident "reminiscing" did her good. "Let mine come last, and tell one for Tom next," said Polly, looking round, and beckoning him nearer. Oh come on now Polly. Tom wants to shoot cats? Okay. Polly asks about a glove; Grandma tells the story of Lafayette kissing the glove with his picture on it and then kissing her on the cheek to avoid that. Grandma’s Aunt was married to John Hancock, just like Abigail Alcott’s grand-aunt was married to him in real life. Also she thinks leg o’mutton sleeves are beautiful and becoming. Let’s not hold it against her. Colonel May, that’s LMA’s grandfather. Next we go even further back in history - Grandma produces a letter “written by Anne Boleyn before her marriage to Henry VIII, and now in the possession of a celebrated antiquarian.” How she acquired this letter is not explained, and it does seem to be the original letter and not a copy. Good-by [sic] We get it, Louisa, you think fancy clothes are sinful. They hold a going-away party for Polly, inviting some girls to keep Maud out of the way and Tom’s school-friends, Rumple, Sherry, and Spider. Polly and Tom open the redowa; he’s bad at keeping time to the music, like me. She doesn’t know how to dance the German so she plays with the little girls in the library. Aww, they snuck presents for her family in Polly’s trunk. Six Years Afterward "WHAT do you think Polly is going to do this winter?" exclaimed Fanny, looking up from the letter she had been eagerly reading. She’s returning to Boston to teach music. Mr. Shaw respects her for being independent. Tom says she’s pretty in a moment of foreshadowing. Madam Shaw has died. "Where did you learn so much worldly wisdom, Polly?" asked Mr. Shaw, as his wife fell back in her chair, and took out her salts, as if this discovery had been too much for her. "I learnt it here, sir," answered Polly, laughing. "I used to think patronage and things of that sort very disagreeable and not worth having, but I've got wiser, and to a certain extent I'm glad to use whatever advantages I have in my power, if they can be honestly got." What is this, the Shaws doing something good for once? Holy hell! “You must come and see my pets, Maud, for my cat and bird live together as happily as brother and sister," said Polly, turning to Maud, who devoured every word she said. "That's not saying much for them," muttered Tom, feeling that Polly ought to address more of her conversation to him. Geez, Tom, entitled much? Tom is engaged to Trix. Polly keeps bees at her country home. It must be so nice to be able to clean without the paranoia that you’re going to get mocked for doing it wrong. All hail living alone! Lessons Polly finds her drudgery a bit harder than she expected but her pupils love her. She found Fanny enduring torment under the hands of the hair-dresser, who was doing his best to spoil her hair, and distort her head with a mass of curls, braids, frizzles, and puffs; for though I discreetly refrain from any particular description, still, judging from the present fashions, I think one may venture to predict that six years hence they would be something frightful. The problem with writing books set in the future. Polly comes home one day to find her landlady, Miss Mills, sewing a dress for Jane, who also lives in the boarding-house and tried to kill herself because she couldn’t find work that paid enough for the rent. Polly goes to visit Jane. Brothers and Sisters Polly’s brother Will visits her every Sunday and they’re BFFs. Tom hates being called Carrots; I want an Anne of Green Gables crossover. Maud informs him that Polly thinks he’s handsomer than Mr. Sydney. "Don't make such a noise, my head aches dreadfully," said Fanny, fretfully. "Girls' heads always do ache," answered Tom, subsiding from a roar into a chuckle. Um, fuck you Tom. He suspects Trix of wearing makeup because she won’t let him kiss her cheek, only “an unsatisfactory peck at her lips.” That’s less satisfying than the cheek? Whatever you say, Tom. Fanny confirms it. He doesn’t approve. Will arrives to take Maud to Polly’s; LMA gets a dig in: “They were very good friends, but led entirely different lives, Will being a "dig," and Tom a "bird," or, in plain English, one was a hard student, and the other a jolly young gentleman. Tom had rather patronized Will, who didn't like it, and showed that he didn't by refusing to borrow money of him, or accept any of his invitations to join the clubs and societies to which Tom belonged. So Shaw let Milton alone, and he got on very well in his own way, doggedly sticking to his books, and resisting all temptations but those of certain libraries, athletic games, and such inexpensive pleasures as were within his means; for this benighted youth had not yet discovered that college nowadays is a place in which to "sky-lark," not to study.” We'll see more of that when we get to Jo’s Boys. Polly talks better than other girls who are coquettes. Seriously. Jesus Christ. Maud has “a talent for betraying trifles which people preferred should not be mentioned in public” and “a queer way of going on with her own thoughts, and suddenly coming out with whatever lay uppermost, regardless of time, place, or company.” Huh. Needles and Tongues Fanny’s sewing circle meets at the Shaw house. Polly listens to them gossip. “Another divulged the awful fact that Carrie P.' s wedding presents were half of them hired for the occasion.” That’s pretty funny. Polly and Trix butt heads over giving charity. “[Trix] felt the same antagonism toward Polly, that Polly did toward her; and, being less generous, took satisfaction in plaguing her. Polly did not know that the secret of this was the fact that Tom often held her up as a model for his fiance to follow, which caused that young lady to dislike her more than ever.” I am not entirely unsympathetic to Trix. Polly tells them about Jane and they’re very moved and resolve to hire her for sewing. Forbidden Fruit Polly, Fanny, and Tom go to the opera. Polly buys new gloves for the occasion and their dog chews them up and she’s like serves me right for buying something I didn’t need. Her new bonnet survives, though, and Tom mentions how becoming it is. "Dress that girl up, and she'd be a raving, tearing beauty," he whispers to Maud, and Polly overhears. A bit of sarcastic fourth wall breaking: I deeply regret being obliged to shock the eyes and ears of such of my readers as have a prejudice in favor of pure English by expressions like the above, but, having rashly undertaken to write a little story about Young America, for Young America, I feel bound to depict my honored patrons as faithfully as my limited powers permit. Otherwise, I must expect the crushing criticism, "Well, I dare say it's all very prim and proper, but it isn't a bit like us," and never hope to arrive at the distinction of finding the covers of "An Old-Fashioned Girl" the dirtiest in the library. Polly wears her hair down, holy shit. Maud comments on what a lovely bride she would be, Tom refers to her as “Mrs. Sydney,” and Fan goes to the carriage “in an usually lofty manner.” Love triangle ahoy. And who should appear at the opera but Arthur Sydney? Polly, on her reaction to heartbreak: "That's not my way either," she said decidedly. "I'd try to outlive it, and if I could n't, I'd try to be the better for it. Disappointment needn't make a woman a fool." Sounds like Rosamund. We are reminded that French novels are evil, and Polly calls Tom a modern Beau Brummel. The Sunny Side Fanny and Tom discuss Polly/Sydney. Tom thinks being a fine lady wouldn’t suit her; Fanny disagrees. Tom realizes his sister likes Sydney and says nothing about it. Polly introduces Fanny to her friends Becky and Bess, two artists who live together. Becky is sculpting “the coming woman” and needs to put a symbol in her hands. Fanny suggests a queen’s sceptre, Polly a man’s helping hand, and Bess a child. Becky turns those down. Kate, an accidentally successful author, suggests a ballot-box. They have a lunch of sardines, oranges, crackers, and cheese, on mismatched plates which one 1860s reviewer found too unfeminine to be realistic. We learn that "Bess is to be married in the spring, and Becky is to live with her." Kate wants to put Polly in a book. Very funny.

Nipped in the Bud Polly inner monologues about how she can’t love Arthur Sydney as a wife should, so she ought to tell him before he proposes. Particularly since he and Fan would suit each other. She changes her route home so as to avoid meeting him, then he sees her coming home from Fanny’s one day and they talk. He says that Fanny hasn’t improved with her years and Polly defends her friend. “She puts on that dashing air before people to hide her real self. But I know her better; and I assure you that she does improve; she tries to mend her faults, though she won't own it, and will surprise you someday, by the amount of heart and sense and goodness she has got." Breakers Ahead Tom gets expelled for knocking down the Chapel watchmen. At least he didn’t need that degree for a job. And Mr. Shaw’s business has failed, and Tom has acquired a significant amount of debt. Oh no. Polly comforts him and then Fanny, who doesn’t actually need much comforting, being glad for the distraction from her unrequited love. Indian cake . . . is that cornbread? A Dress Parade The big house was given up as soon as possible and the little house taken; being made comfortable with the furniture Madam left there when she went to live with her son. The old-fashioned things had been let with the house, and now seemed almost like a gift from Grandma, doubly precious in these troublous times. At the auction, several persons tried to show the family that, though they had lost their fortune, friends still remained, for one bid in Fanny's piano, and sent it to her; another secured certain luxurious articles for Mrs. Shaw's comfort; and a third saved such of Mr. Shaw's books as he valued most, for he had kept his word and given up everything, with the most punctilious integrity. Maud enjoys herself learning to housewife. Polly gives Fanny advice on freshening her wardrobe, such as turning her grey suit. Fanny used to give Maud her old dresses for tableaux. Polly’s story is based on real life. From LMA’s ”Recollections of My Childhood”: People wondered at our frolics, but enjoyed them; and droll stories are still told of the adventures of those days. Mr. Emerson and Margaret Fuller were visiting my parents one afternoon; and the conversation having turned to the ever-interesting subject of education, Miss Fuller said,-- "Well, Mr. Alcott, you have been able to carry out your methods in your own family, and I should like to see your model children." She did in a few moments,--for as the guests stood on the doorsteps a wild uproar approached, and round the corner of the house came a wheelbarrow holding baby May arrayed as a queen; I was the horse, bitted and bridled, and driven by my elder sister Anna, while Lizzie played dog and barked as loud as her gentle voice permitted. All were shouting, and wild with fun, which, however, came to a sudden end as we espied the stately group before us, for my foot tripped, and down we all went in a laughing heap, while my mother put a climax to the joke by saying with a dramatic wave of the hand,-- "Here are the model children, Miss Fuller!" Playing Grandmother Tom has a harder time than his sisters. He’s too bad at business to help his father so he hangs out with Mrs. Shaw. "I'd cut away to Australia if it wasn't for mother; anything, anywhere to get out of the way of people who know me. I never can right myself here, with all the fellows watching, and laying wagers whether I sink or swim. Hang Greek and Latin! wish I'd learned a trade, and had something to fall back upon. Haven't a blessed thing now, but decent French and my fists.” Oh my gosh I think Tom’s a millennial. Polly teaches Maud how to make raisin cake for Tom’s birthday. He receives two letters: one from Trix dumping him, and one from Arthur Sydney saying that’s he’s paid Tom’s debts. Tom, unwilling to owe him, decides to go West, young man, like Polly’s brother Ned. The Woman Who Did Not Dare POLLY wrote enthusiastically, Ned answered satisfactorily, and after much corresponding, talking, and planning, it was decided that Tom should go West. Never mind what the business was; it suffices to say that it was a good beginning for a young man like Tom, who, having been born and bred in the most conservative class of the most conceited city in New England, needed just the healthy, hearty, social influences of the West to widen his views and make a man of him. Polly goes home for the summer, Maud to the shore with Belle, and Fan stays home. I’m pretty sure Polly lives in Concord. Does she know the Marches? She returns to Boston in the fall and Fanny says have you been sick? No, it’s love. Polly gives vague answers and Fan replies that she thinks Sydney is starting to like her. She shows Polly a photo Tom sent and Polly’s face makes her go Aha. Winter passes, and in May Fan and Sydney get engaged. Tom’s Success "Come, Philander, let us be a marching, Every one his true love a searching," would be the most appropriate motto for this chapter, because, intimidated by the threats, denunciations, and complaints showered upon me in consequence of taking the liberty to end a certain story as I liked, I now yield to the amiable desire of giving satisfaction, and, at the risk of outraging all the unities, intend to pair off everybody I can lay my hands on. Tom comes home and tells Polly he loves her. "Now, Tom, how could I know you loved me when you went away and never said a word?" she began, in a tenderly reproachful tone, thinking of the hard year she had spent. "And how could I have the courage to say a word, when I had nothing on the face of the earth to offer you but my worthless self?" answered Tom, warmly. "That was all I wanted!" whispered Polly, in a tone which caused him to feel that the race of angels was not entirely extinct. I suppose if I liked Tom more the romance might work for me but I don’t and it doesn’t. Neither pairing seems to happen naturally, the narrative forces them together. Will marries Jane and Maud remains a spinster, “[keeping] house for her father in the most delightful manner.” The End and I’m glad of it! Next is Little Men.

#an old fashioned girl #louisa may alcott #alcott readathon 2018

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gamehayapkmod · 4 years ago

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Stormfall: Saga of Survival

Game Stormfall: Saga of Survival là dòng game Adventure

Giới thiệu Stormfall: Saga of Survival

Survive, explore, and master crafting and sorcery in this free-to-play survival MMORPG set in the high-fantasy Stormfall world. Once a distinguished master of Stormfall, you have been betrayed in a fight for power. Banished, you must now craft a life in exile and learn to survive in the Eastern Marches - a desolate land of snowy peaks, ancient sorcery, forgotten ruins, and beasts on the hunt. You must fight off starvation, craft weapons for hunting, build shelter, and survive against corrupted beasts and fellow exiles. There will be a time for redemption, but first… You must survive. Download now and join the fight in this challenging MMORPG! Explore a new world and hunt down the secrets hidden within. *FEATURES* FIGHT AND HUNT You must rise again to challenge your enemies and carve out a place of your own. Craft and loot powerful weapons to brawl with forest beasts and corrupted monsters. Learn about yourself and discover if you have what it takes to survive. Always be vigilant and up for a fight! BUILD AND CRAFT Explore and use whatever you can find to protect yourself. Learn how to craft new weapons, tools, and armor along your quest. Live with nature and replenish your supplies through hunting and looting. Build and improve your shelter to become the master of your corner of the Eastern Marches. LEARN ARCANE SORCERY Challenge yourself to discover the secrets of magic. Craft runes that will power your weapons and give you a better chance to survive. Master the arcane arts of sorcery to wield it against those who stand in your way. EXPLORE THE UNKNOWN The dark forests and snowy mountains of the Eastern Marches are yours – if you are brave enough for the challenge. Discover the secrets of arcane ruins, hunt for loot, master your grasp of the land, and explore new regions of the wildlands to learn about the powerful magic that seeps through it. RESIST THE CURSE You are not immune to the darkness in your quest to survive. You must shelter yourself from its seductive magic and learn the secrets of a goddess that can help you fight its power. Will you be up for the challenge? DISCOVER FACTIONS Meet Faction Ambassadors in your shelter and learn about their secrets. Build your reputation by completing faction quests and rise up the ranks of power. Decide if your calling is to be a Frontier Warden, Arcanist, or Shadowmonger in this world! MASTER THE WILD You will have to become one with the wilds to survive. Tame a horse to help you travel and loot faster. Build your courage and discover if you have it in you to take on this quest. The big bad world is waiting. You can't hide in your shelter forever. Are you ready to conquer it? DEFEAT THE DARKNESS The creatures above ground are not the only challenge awaiting you. In the darkest reaches of this world you can discover the most malicious of evils. Fight them to loot treasures and weapons imbued with the arcane sorcery of the ancients. BUILD YOUR CLAN That curling smoke on the next mountain means only one thing - you are not alone in this world. Outside your shelter, you will find exiles and magic of the most curious form. How you deal with other exiles in your quest for survival is up to you. Choose wisely or you may end up on the wrong side! PLEASE NOTE: • Items are available for purchase in this game. Some paid items may not be refundable depending on the type of item. • Stormfall: Saga of Survival is available in English, Chinese Simplified, Chinese Traditional, French, German, Italian, Korean, Ukrainian, Spanish, Portuguese, Turkish, Thai, Vietnamese, Hindi, Indonesian, Malaysian, and Russian. Official Website: https://plarium.com/ Support: [email protected]] Community: https://www.facebook.com/StormfallSagaOfSurvival/ Privacy Policy: https://plarium.com/en/privacy-and-cookie-policy/ Terms of Use: https://plarium.com/en/terms-of-use/ Here's what's coming up in version 1.14.7: - Technical Updates. Enjoy an improved gaming experience. - Stability Improvements. Encounter fewer crashes, bugs, and other interruptions to your game. - Smoother Gameplay. Experience faster performance.

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beardcore-blog · 5 years ago

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Andrew W.K. (7)

SYDNEY BIG DAY OUT 2011

BIG DAY OUT 2011 FEATURING: TOOL, RAMMSTEIN, IGGY AND THE STOOGES, M.I.A, JOHN BUTLER TRIO, GRINDERMAN, WOLFMOTHER, LCD SOUNDSYSTEM, BLOODY BEETROOTS DEATH CREW 77, CRYSTAL CASTLES, LUPE FIASCO, PRIMAL SCREAM SCREAMADELICA LIVE, DEFTONES, BLISS N ESO, ANGUS & JULIA STONE, PLAN B, PNAU, DIE ANTWOORD, EDWARD SHARPE & THE MAGNETIC ZEROS, BOOKA SHADE DJs, ANDREW W.K., THE JIM JONES REVUE, BIRDS OF TOKYO, LITTLE RED, GYROSCOPE, VITALIC, CSS, RATATAT, AIRBOURNE, DEAD LETTER CIRCUS, BLUE KING BROWN, THE NAKED & FAMOUS, OPERATOR PLEASE, CHILDREN COLLIDE, GYPSY AND THE CAT, WILL STYLES, LOWRIDER, SAMPOLOGY, KIDS OF 88, KID KENOBI & MC SHURESHOCK.

2010 was one for the record books and a stellar year for BDO.

We not only passed the emotional 100 show mark with a bang, but also staged our biggest shows to the largest and our most respectful audiences of our 18 years of BDO. And so we thank you for your continued support in helping us produce the best and safest event possible for the patrons, the bands and our tireless team.

The more you care: the more we care.

Which brings us to 2011.

2010 is a very hard act to follow, so for 2011 it felt right to turn up the heat musically and visually. And what better way to explain this than to present you with over 40 exceptional acts from home and abroad for the first round alone.

This is by far our biggest and most diverse announcement ever. As well as the many incredible first timers on offer, we are enthusiastically welcoming back several iconic BDO veterans. They are some of the most exciting and uncompromising artists performing live today. We believe this combination of extremes for 2011 will create a spectacular event.

From the heaviest to the sweetest sounds in the world today, this will be a sensory overload not to be missed.

Full tickets details are below, but please remember the policies we’ve built your show on: You’re all VIPs (Very Important Punters). We don’t do elitist or bogus pre-sales: we’re either on sale or we’re not. We have what we believe to be one low ticket price for one high standard for everyone….

And we hope to see you there

Ken and Viv

So, let’s get it rolling…

TOOL

The sky will blacken, the ground will shudder, the earth will open up and BIG DAY OUT will once again tremble in the presence of the awe-inspiring TOOL. “Primal, poignant, poetic and, as always, utterly powerful” (ARTISTdirect, July 2010). Touring Down Under for the first time in four years, vocalist Maynard James Keenan, guitarist Adam Jones, drummer Danny Carey and bassist Justin Chancellor will be fresh from the studio, where they have been slowly crafting a follow-up to 2006’s 10,000 Days. From Lateralus to Stinkfist, you know the music. But, backed by a video and laser light show unlike any other, TOOL live is also “the kind of visual experience you’ll probably never have again” (CHARTattack, August 2009). Unmatched in the world of dark, heavy rock, California’s TOOL have over 20 years scorched themselves a place as “one of the best live bands in history” (ARTISTdirect). Be blinded by their light at BIG DAY OUT 2011. (ALL SHOWS)

RAMMSTEIN

A decade since ruling over BIG DAY OUT with a reign of fire, pyrotechnics, monstrous riffs, wicked humour and industrial savagery, RAMMSTEIN will return this summer to reclaim their sovereign territory. The RAMMSTEIN live experience is “dizzyingly ridiculous”, says the BBC. “Rock is at its best when confrontational, subversive, curiously camp and bold, which is why RAMMSTEIN are currently one of the most important bands in the genre.” Armed with their sixth album, Liebe ist für Alle da, Germany’s infamous techno-metal masters bring nothing less than the greatest show on earth: “RAMMSTEIN are in pulverising form, the crowd are going crazy, the atmosphere is electric and the firebombs launching from the stage are like World War III on apocalypse LSD” (The Quietus, February 2010). Bow down to your kings, BIG DAY OUT 2011, for RAMMSTEIN have returned. (ALL SHOWS)

IGGY AND THE STOOGES

It’s time for a new generation to plug in to the raw power of IGGY AND THE STOOGES at BIG DAY OUT 2011. The band that invented punk rock return with iconic frontman Iggy Pop rejoined by guitarist James Williamson, drummer Scott Asheton, bass player Mike Watt and sax player Steve Mackay. IGGY AND THE STOOGES will be performing songs from their landmark 1973 album Raw Power, and cherry-picking the likes of Fun House, I Wanna Be Your Dog and Down On The Street from their incendiary back catalogue. Kurt Cobain consistently listed Raw Power as his #1 favorite album of all time and Jack White will tell you that Fun House is the best rock and roll album ever made! It’s “the most chaotic and beautiful mess you could ever want” (Boston Herald, September 2010). As Iggy says, “The Stooges and I are cocked and loaded to deliver it live on stage.” And the only place to see IGGY AND THE STOOGES deliver it this summer is at BIG DAY OUT. Don’t be the one to say you missed it. (ALL SHOWS)

M.I.A.

Standing at the front line of mission BIG DAY OUT 2011 is the one-woman shock and awe campaign that is M.I.A. The Sri Lankan-British “singer/rapper/firebrand” (Pitchfork) fearlessly cuts through genre boundaries and lyrical taboos, blazing new ground from the clubs to the streets with powerhouse tracks like Galang, Paper Planes and, from her latest album ///Y/, Born Free and XXXO. On record and on stage, M.I.A. delivers “pure, flashing brilliance, a lightning cognitive connection of word, idea and sound that few do so well” (NME, July 2010). Often controversial, always compelling, M.I.A knows only one way: all guns blazing. Take cover, BIG DAY OUT. (ALL SHOWS)

JOHN BUTLER TRIO

John Butler is undeniably the most successful truly independent artist in Australia. The recent rebirth of his band the JOHN BUTLER TRIO saw two new members join John Butler; Nicky Bomba on drums and Byron Luiters on bass. The title for the trio’s latest album April Uprising is all about a period of change, of evolution and a constantly renewing beginning. April Uprising is John’s most focused, diverse and accessible album to date. Between the epic opening track Revolution and a whispered acoustic coda A Star is Born, dedicated to John’s son, April Uprising is an album that combines the personal, the political and the musically memorable with skill and passion. BIG DAY OUT is very excited to welcome back JOHN BUTLER TRIO. (ALL SHOWS)

GRINDERMAN

BIG DAY OUT is shivering with anticipation as the howling, growling, malevolent rock beast that is GRINDERMAN approaches. GRINDERMAN are Nick Cave, Warren Ellis, Martyn Casey and Jim Sclavunos – Four Bad Seeds on a mission to take us somewhere else entirely. On album No.1 they were equal parts swagger and sexual frustration. On Grinderman 2, they’re simply ravenous and rampaging, “mixing horror and black humour with barely tamed musical malevolence” (The Guardian, September 2010). Fronted by Australia’s unarguable king of intense, intimidating performance, GRINDERMAN are coming to draw out the heathen child in all of us at BIG DAY OUT 2011. (ALL SHOWS)

WOLFMOTHER

Brothers and sisters sound the siren. A new moon has risen and the return of WOLFMOTHER is well and truly upon us. It was a whirlwind journey the band went on with the Wolfmother album, a voyage that resulted in over one million sales, sold out riots disguised as shows the world over, multiple ARIA Awards and a Grammy. In 2009 they regrouped and returned with a thundering 2nd record, Cosmic Egg, which they describe as “the sound of the Wolfmother world being rethunk and cracked wide open, with a sprawling, jubilant galaxy of musical and metaphysical harmony spilling forth”. We couldn’t have put it better ourselves and BIG DAY OUT couldn’t be happier to have them cracking it open again in 2011. (ALL SHOWS)

LCD SOUNDSYSTEM

You thought it was all over, but James Murphy’s genre-mashing LCD SOUNDSYSTEM couldn’t farewell the live arena without one last tilt at BIG DAY OUT 2011. The biggest name in punk-funk for much of the last decade, LCD SOUNDSYSTEM is a “disco-ticking-time-bomb” (OC Weekly) that has done everything – from movie soundtracks to Grammy-nominated albums. Now, after winning raves for third album This is Happening, Murphy is about to flick LCD’s ‘off’ switch. But before he does, LCD SOUNDSYSTEM wanna put some dance, party and soul in your world one last time, via the likes of Drunk Girls, North American Scum and Daft Punk is Playing at My House. And they’ll be bringing “the heavy artillery… “More muscular and frenzied than on record, the LCD seven-piece live line-up avoids the ‘live dance music’ cul-de-sac in favour of a looser, more dynamic sound… Wow” (The List, May 2010). You better believe this is happening – so be sure to get enough LCD SOUNDSYSTEM to last you a lifetime at BIG DAY OUT this summer. (ALL SHOWS)

BLOODY BEETROOTS DEATH CREW 77

BIG DAY OUT has seen the future of dance music, and it goes by the name of BLOODY BEETROOTS DEATH CREW 77. Bob Rifo’s Italian gang may be DJs, prolific producers, masked avengers and remixers extraordinaire, but this summer it will be BLOODY BEETROOTS DEATH CREW 77 invading the Boiler Room. This isn’t just a live set, this is live communal anarchy, an electro punk rave-up that has made BLOODY BEETROOTS DEATH CREW 77 one of the most talked about dance music acts on the planet. Madly energetic, or just plain mad? Whatever the answer, you’ll be showing mad love for BLOODY BEETROOTS DEATH CREW 77 by the time they’re done with BIG DAY OUT 2011. (ALL SHOWS)

CRYSTAL CASTLES

Get ready to get messy with CRYSTAL CASTLES at BIG DAY OUT 2011. Toronto’s electronic experimentalists Ethan Kath and Alice Glass are purveyors of the most frenetic live show on the planet. “It’s a thrillingly anarchic, messy show … all over the place, and all the better for it” (MusicOMH, June 2010). The whispers about CRYSTAL CASTLES began in 2006, a series of limited, lo-fi vinyl singles selling as quickly as they were pressed. Two self-titled albums later, the whisper is a roar. Or maybe that’s just Glass’s “hellish shriek backed by warzone beats and liquid synths”. Shield your ears – CRYSTAL CASTLES will bring the noise at BIG DAY OUT this summer. (AUCKLAND & EAST COAST ONLY)

LUPE FIASCO

If BIG DAY OUT is beamin’, it’s because we’re psyched to be welcoming back hip hop superstar LUPE FIASCO. The MC with the madly energetic, fast-flowin’ live-band show kicked and pushed outta Chicago with two Grammy-nominated albums, Food & Liquor and The Cool. Since last hitting these shores, LUPE has wrapped a new album, Lasers. But where is it? Singles I’m Beamin’ and Shining Down were a tasty tease, yet the album proper remains so damn anticipated that the rapper’s fans have resorted to petitioning his label to have it released. That’s just the kind of passion LUPE FIASCO inspires, and that’s why we’re beamin’ to have him back at BIG DAY OUT 2011. (ALL SHOWS)

PRIMAL SCREAM

20 years after taking the sounds and spirit of the second summer of love and acid house and melding it into one of the greatest albums of the 1990s, British rockers PRIMAL SCREAM will remake history by performing their epoch-defining classic Screamadelica in full at BIG DAY OUT 2011. Two decades on, these songs still sound like the future: Loaded, Movin’ On Up, Higher Than the Sun, Come Together, Don’t Fight it, Feel It. Bobby Gillespie and the band will be joined by gospel singers, horn section, and a field full of memories. Come together to see PRIMAL SCREAM do Screamadelica at BIG DAY OUT. (ALL SHOWS)

DEFTONES

BIG DAY OUT is daring to look deep into the Diamond Eyes of California’s favourite alt-metal sons, DEFTONES. The 2010 release and sixth album, is “a brilliant, invigorating reintroduction” (NME) to Chino Moreno, Stephen Carpenter, Frank Delgado, Abe Cunningham and new bassist Sergio Vega – the men who shook the world a decade ago with the groundbreaking White Pony – still “wield that balance between beauty and brutality better than anyone” (ARTISTdirect, August 2010). So brace yourself for extremes as you prepare to witness the long-awaited return of DEFTONES at BIG DAY OUT 2011. (ALL SHOWS)

BLISS N ESO

Fresh from knocking off Eminem’s six week reign at the top of the ARIA Album Charts, with their fourth album Running on Air Aussie hip hop trio BLISS N ESO are self assuredly demanding your ears when they hit the stage at BIG DAY OUT 2011. This is music made to fill the wide open spaces of BIG DAY OUT: “This is a career defining album; an album by which every new hip-hop release in this country will be judged, and deservedly so” says The Vine, MX added “Running on Air is a rocket that never runs out of fuel.” Hip-hop style stadium singalongs? We think yes. (ALL AUSTRALIAN SHOWS)

ANGUS & JULIA STONE

Australia’s finest duo ANGUS & JULIA STONE have spent the last few years on a remarkable musical journey together and now they bring their lovingly crafted songs to BIG DAY OUT 2011. Their latest album Down the Way was released to critical acclaim mainly due to the subtle shift of gear, represented by a growing confidence in their abilities as artists which has seen the music follow suit. (ALL AUSTRALIAN SHOWS)

PLAN B

BIG DAY OUT is reverting to PLAN B. But Ben Drew is no back-up plan, he’s the recalcitrant renaissance man of British music: rapper, actor, guitarist, storyteller, filmmaker and now chart-topping soul singer. After shocking the nation with his 2006 debut Who Needs Action When You Got Words, PLAN B took a sharp turn with The Defamation of Strickland Banks, a surprising, slick album filled with “stonking tunes” (NME) that trace the rise and fall of a smartly-suited soul singer. But don’t be fooled – this sweet soul morsel has a razor-sharp edge. Quite simply, no one else cuts it like PLAN B, and he’s suiting up for BIG DAY OUT 2011. (ALL SHOWS)

PNAU

As the world now knows, Australia’s electronic / pop crossover pioneers, PNAU did make the big move over two years ago to take up residence in London following on from a life changing moment crossing paths with (and now under the guidance of) the pop maestro himself, Sir Elton John. It’s been three long years since the release of their last spectacular self titled album, with which Messr’s Nick Littlemore and Peter Mayes have been incredibly busy traipsing the world completing album number four in studios in London, Atlanta, New York and Los Angeles, as well as having been involved in array of projects including one half of Empire Of The Sun; production jobs for Groove Armada, Ellie Goulding, Robbie Williams and more. In amongst this worldly action, Nick has been given the auspicious duty of composer and musical director for the famed international production Cirque du Soleil. With the wait now over and the highly anticipated fourth album arriving shortly, it’s time for PNAU to present the next chapter of ‘their brilliant career’ and as such the rumours can be confirmed as PNAU finally return home to Australia in January 2011 for the BIG DAY OUT. (ALL AUSTRALIAN SHOWS)

DIE ANTWOORD

Comin’ straight outta Cape Town to BIG DAY OUT 2011 are South Africa’s interweb-conquering, next level, hip hop heroes DIE ANTWOORD. The hard rhyming Ninja, Yo-Landi Vi$$er and DJ Hi-Tek burst on to the scene with serious gangsta skillz and viral videos for Enter the Ninja and Zef Side, then quickly became the “so zef, so fresh” smash hit of Coachella 2010 – “Pound for pound the most engaging and legitimately surprising act of the weekend,” said the LA Times. Part anarchic art project, part the-future-of-rap, total mystery. Are DIE ANTWOORD for real? Find the answer at BIG DAY OUT this summer. (ALL SHOWS)

EDWARD SHARPE & THE MAGNETIC ZEROS

With their magic tour bus painted all the colours of the rainbow and their fearless leader at the wheel, EDWARD SHARPE & THE MAGNETIC ZEROS are on the road to BIG DAY OUT 2011. The (at least!) ten-strong, Hottest 100-conquering neo-hippie combo from California are putting a skip in the step of the world with smile-inducing songs from the name-making Home to the happy-go-lucky Janglin’ and 40 Day Dream. This is the stuff group singalongs are made of, music to bring people together. As the Denver Post put it: “At an Edward Sharpe show, everybody is family.” So get on board with EDWARD SHARPE & THE MAGNETIC ZEROES – next stop, BIG DAY OUT. You’ll feel right at home. (ALL SHOWS)

BOOKA SHADE DJs

Berlin duo Walter Merziger and Arno Kammermeier are BOOKA SHADE DJs – Get Physical label bosses, producers of immense electronic club music, newly-minted DJs. At BIG DAY OUT 2011, it’s BOOKA SHADE in DJ guise that’ll take to the Boiler Room. A BOOKA SHADE DJs set isn’t just about flinging vinyl onto a turntable – “Bringing together new tracks and new beats and creating something new around it, is more the spirit of our music,” says Kammermeier. It’s also about capturing the feeling of a great party. Grab the feeling and don’t let go with BOOKA SHADE DJs at BIG DAY OUT this summer. (ALL SHOWS)

ANDREW W.K.

When it’s time to party, BIG DAY OUT knows exactly who to consult – the ultimate authority on partying hard, ANDREW W.K. Infamous for his bloody nose, highly regarded for his motivational speaking, famous for his high-life attitude, beloved for his songs like Party Hard, She is Beautiful and It’s Time To Party, New Yorker ANDREW W.K. is coming our way with his full band for the first time ever to create feelings of pure joy, fun, freedom, and possibility. How does he do it? “His fast and hard party anthems whip the crowd into a fist pumping frenzy … ANDREW W.K. takes command of the crowd and bids them to live it up while they can” (mxdwn, September 2010). So, what are you waiting for? It’s time to party. It’s time for ANDREW W.K. to take command at BIG DAY OUT 2011. (ALL SHOWS)

THE JIM JONES REVUE

THE JIM JONES REVUE will be burning the house down at BIG DAY OUT 2011. THE JIM JONES REVUE manifesto is simple, and ferocious: "If you’re going to get on stage,” says guitarist Rupert Orton, “deliver." And that they do, riffing on Little Richard and Jerry Lee Lewis for a rock’n’roll sound that could have come direct from the 1950s, if it wasn’t fused with the so dang wild, loud and loose vibes of The Cramps and The Birthday Party. The Londoners may have only dropped their debut in 2008, but don’t let that fool you – these five punk rock bluesmen have been around. Hot on the heels of their blistering second album, Burning Down Your House, THE JIM JONES REVUE are set to fire up BIG DAY OUT this summer. (ALL SHOWS)

BIRDS OF TOKYO

BIRDS OF TOKYO certainly aren’t the kind of band to do things in halves. Their latest self –titled album was recorded between Sydney, London, Gothenburg and New York; BIRDS OF TOKYO gave themselves the most surreal and inspiring experience possible, knowing that the results of doing so would speak for themselves. This journey into such deeply personal territory has produced BIRDS OF TOKYO’s most meaningful and powerful album yet. Stand up and be counted at BIG DAY OUT 2011 with BIRDS OF TOKYO. (ALL SHOWS)

LITTLE RED

Melbourne’s LITTLE RED have been away a while, growing up, growing down, tasting the sweet and the bittersweet in equal measures, they’ve recently returned with their second album Midnight Remember. Described by The Age as ‘pretty much the best band in Melbourne at the moment’, LITTLE RED and their all-singing, all-dancing live show are set to shake up BIG DAY OUT 2011 with their pure, irrepressible pop, infectious hooks and good times. (ALL AUSTRALIAN SHOWS)

GYROSCOPE

No strangers to the BIG DAY OUT GYROSCOPE is bringing something new to the table this time and it’s not what you would expect. You would be forgiven for thinking that they would stick with what seems like a formula for success. But for something to succeed you don’t need a formula – you need a solid foundation on which everything can be built. And few in music have set a foundation as strong as GYROSCOPE. (ALL AUSTRALIAN SHOWS)

VITALIC.

The temperature gauge is rising as BIG DAY OUT ushers in the artist who ushered in a whole new era of dance music, VITALIC. The man born Pascal Arbez has always been one step ahead of the electro game, his 2005 debut OK Cowboy preceding the rise to worldwide dance-dominance of every other Frenchman with a laptop. In 2009, he re-stamped his authority on the scene with the highly-charged Flashmob. Using big synths, big beats and a big slice of glittery disco as his building blocks, VITALIC creates a sound as pulverising as it is infectious. No messing around – “This guy is incredible” (inthemix, November 2008). Keep up if you can, as VITALIC flashes forward at BIG DAY OUT this summer. (ALL SHOWS)

CSS

Representin’ for São Paulo at BIG DAY OUT 2011 are Brazil’s hot, hot band of the people, CSS. “The physical embodiment of the best party ever” (NME), CSS have shared their unquenchable thirst for good times and all things pop and art via two albums, Cansei de Ser Sexy and Donkey. On the eve of the release of their next blast of post-punk-electro-art-school madness, CSS are back to doing what they do best – creating unbridled joy live on stage, in a set that’s equal parts dance party, urban circus, and out-and-out chaos. As the band’s technicolour frontwoman Lovefoxx would say: get up, get up, get up! Get up, and get your CSS while it’s hot at BIG DAY OUT. (ALL SHOWS)

RATATAT

When BIG DAY OUT is rockin’, RATATAT will come a’knockin’. New York duo Mike Stroud and Evan Mast have been mixing electronics with guitars for the past decade, combining the power of noise and dance, collaborating with Kid Cudi, remixing Bjork, dropping four albums. Songs like Lex, Wild Cats and Seventeen Years have made them completely hip, but it’s when you see RATATAT live on stage – an aural, visual and physical assault of synths, guitar, hypnotic video and boundless energy – that the hype makes perfect sense. If you’re ready to be blown away, you’re ready for RATATAT at BIG DAY OUT 2011. (ALL SHOWS)

AIRBOURNE

AIRBOURNE have been waving the rock and roll flag for Australia both at home and overseas since 2003. AIRBOURNE crank out with all cylinders firing potent, solid and good ol’ fashioned rock and roll. “Basically, we’ve never been about having a specific message; we don’t talk about politics or social injustices in our songs. There are other bands out there to take care of that,” says rowdy lead guitarist and vocalist Joel O‘Keefe. The band’s latest album No Guts, No Glory is a true testament to AIRBOURNE’s way of life: the album is a virtual rock and roll buffet served up this summer at BIG DAY OUT 2011. (ALL SHOWS)

DEAD LETTER CIRCUS

It’s been a few years since DEAD LETTER CIRCUS blasted onto Australian airwaves in 2007, their bombastic yet nuanced take on alternative rock left most observers struggling to process what they were hearing. It was epic, it oozed confidence, it was intense. Fast forward a while and the band then set out to record the follow up to their self-titled EP that started it all. Over an incredible 18 month gestation period, with every deadline pushed, every note analysed, every resource pooled, and every avenue of exploration exhausted, the new album This Is The Warning was born. From one travelling circus to another we make way for DEAD LETTER CIRCUS to come play BIG DAY OUT 2011. (ALL AUSTRALIAN SHOWS)

BLUE KING BROWN

You can put your fist in the air, come just as you are, you can bounce to da beat, rock out up the front row or chill up the back. Hard hitting lyrics and groove delivered in the most accessible way…you’re at BIG DAY OUT 2011 and Australia’s premier urban roots crew BLUE KING BROWN have arrived! Lead by the multi talented, relentless energy of Natalie Pa’apa’a, the band have established themselves as one of Australia’s most engaging live acts. BLUE KING BROWN bringing groove to BIG DAY OUT this summer. (ALL AUSTRALIAN SHOWS)

THE NAKED AND FAMOUS

The meteoric rise of THE NAKED AND FAMOUS has been the biggest story in New Zealand music in 2010. The group had already won over alternative radio ears in their home country with two EPs where a home studio full of industrial strength electronica ideas underpinned some of the most melodic dream pop concocted down under, before they unleashed single Young Blood in May. But were they ready for that song to go straight into the NZ charts at number one, hook them up with NY indie label and blog Neon Gold, hit playlists from Triple J to London’s XFM, win them the prestigious APRA Silver Scroll and make them one of the hottest unsigned properties in the world? Probably not. But their self-produced album, Passive Me Aggressive You, has since appeared and garnered even more praise. Nudity? Not in public. Fame? Most definitely around the corner for these five kids from Auckland. (ALL SHOWS)

OPERATOR PLEASE

Returning to the BIG DAY OUT national tour for their second time OPERATOR PLEASE are well and truly back. This time though, take everything you think you know about OPERATOR PLEASE and put it aside. The Queensland-based band defy all expectations on their second album, Gloves, with the youthful enthusiasm and teenage angst that gave them worldwide recognition making way for a more sophisticated and developed sound. After spending the last few years touring the globe the band bring their pop anthems along for the ride and are set to rock BIG DAY OUT 2011. (ALL AUSTRALIAN SHOWS)

CHILDREN COLLIDE

CHILDREN COLLIDE arrive for BIG DAY OUT 2011 on the back of their powerful new album Theory for Everything. Vocalist and guitarist Johnny Mackay says "Alchemy and chemistry, reason and religion, love and logic. Art and music are so often about tying opposing forces together into a contentious dualism. Contradiction is a big part of what we do." CHILDREN COLLIDE are here. (ALL AUSTRALIAN SHOWS)

GYPSY & THE CAT

There is no gypsy and there is no cat, but there is a GYPSY & THE CAT, an electronic duo who, instead of pumping out house beats and booty-quaking bass lines, pen gorgeous mini epics of forlorn beauty and elegiac romanticism that, you can just tell, are about heartache and solitude, past girlfriends and future loss. Their brand new album Gilgamesh is set for release this summer. In the meantime the lead single Time to Wander has been described as “…dreamy, epic and luscious soft rock, just in time to soundtrack the Summer. Bam” (The Brag). GYPSY & THE CAT bring their summer soundtrack to BIG DAY OUT 2011. (ALL AUSTRALIAN SHOWS)

WILL STYLES

WILL STYLES first discovered “The Rave” when he was 16. At the end of the night he was moshing on the dance floor with his Skid Row t-shirt and torn jeans, whirling 2 flannies above his head, yelling along to Speed Racer. He was hooked. He’s always tried (often spectacularly badly) to play rave in FunkTrust sets, but after taking awhile he’s finally playing rave music every week: like a shitty Nicholas Sparks novel-turned-movie, he’s been re-united with his first love. Will has hosted Radio FunkTrust on Triple J since 2006. Every Friday night you can tune in to him playing super-sweet new records and making fart jokes. WILL STYLES is joined for the BIG DAY OUT shows by MC HAYLEY BOA. She used to sing in one of The Wiggles shows and was reprimanded for incorrectly miming the actions during the Eat a Banana song. Instead of peeling it, she was (quite innocently) fellating the banana to tens of thousands of small children. No one has been able to convince her to re-enact her banana antics on stage yet, but we’re hoping it happens at BIG DAY OUT in 2011. (ALL AUSTRALIAN SHOWS)

LOWRIDER

Bigger. Brighter. Bolder: Just three words to nail the irresistible sound of hot Adelaide quartet LOWRIDER’s sophomore album, Round the World. LOWRIDER have taken their unique blend of soul and funk to the world, forging a reputation along the way as one of the most mesmerising live acts around. Get soulful, get funky, get LOWRIDER on the menu this summer at BIG DAY OUT 2011. (ALL AUSTRALIAN SHOWS)

SAMPOLOGY

SAMPOLOGY is a DJ. And we’re not talking your steak and three vegie solid club set here. He’s a highly accomplished technician on the 1s and 2s, (and sometime 3s) cutting his teeth in the early days as turntablist for a number of live bands including Soma Rasa and the Vinyl Slingers, which saw him first doing BIG DAY OUT at the tender young age of 17. He’s also one of the most consistently brilliant and versatile club Djs who’s not shy of mixing up his styles to suit the show. One week you might find him creating mash-up mayhem in intimate clubs by changing the vibe of the room to some kind of ridiculously wicked house party. The next week you’ll stumble into a bass bin laden club night to find him delivering a fast paced performance, skilfully bringing together endless forms of club music at countless tempos. And he’s bringing the whole swag to BIG DAY OUT in 2011. In the words of Peaches: “Sampology makes me wanna break dance.” We couldn’t have summed up SAMPOLOGY the DJ better ourselves. (ALL AUSTRALIAN SHOWS)

KIDS OF 88

Jordan and Sam were born in 1988. In 2009, they were the toast of the music world with the chart conquering disco sleaze of their platinum selling debut single My House. They followed up with a string of throbbing electro anthems culminating in the release of the insanely catchy, wildly electric journey of 21st century dance pop discovery that is their 2010 debut album Sugarpills. As their recordings and remixes have been filling club dance floors, KIDS OF 88 have since smashed their way around New Zealand and Australia, lighting up clubs and sharing the stage with everyone from the Passion Pit and Scissor Sisters to Cassette Kids while ducking back to their home studio to remix stars like Ke$ha and Cobra Starship. (ALL SHOWS)

KID KENOBI AND MC SHURESHOCK

At the turn of the decade, KID KENOBI AND MC SHURESHOCK first joined forces and by the middle of the 2000s, they were recognized as Australia’s premier MC-DJ tandems, having completed sell-out tours of the UK, USA, Canada, Brazil, China, Switzerland, New Zealand and Singapore. Celebrating a decade of working together since the turn of the millennium, KID KENOBI & MC SHURESHOCK will release their debut EP TEN” on 10.10.10 supported by a very special TEN tour incorporating a retrospective 2000-2010 performance across a whopping 23 dates nationally, and culminating with BIG DAY OUT across Australia in early 2011. (ALL AUSTRALIAN SHOWS)

Posted by Troy Constable Photography™ on 2011-01-27 09:36:50

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beardcore-blog · 5 years ago

Text

IMG_9417

SYDNEY BIG DAY OUT 2011

2010 was one for the record books and a stellar year for BDO.

The more you care: the more we care.

Which brings us to 2011.

From the heaviest to the sweetest sounds in the world today, this will be a sensory overload not to be missed.

And we hope to see you there

Ken and Viv

So, let’s get it rolling…

TOOL

RAMMSTEIN

IGGY AND THE STOOGES

M.I.A.

JOHN BUTLER TRIO

GRINDERMAN

WOLFMOTHER

LCD SOUNDSYSTEM

BLOODY BEETROOTS DEATH CREW 77

CRYSTAL CASTLES

LUPE FIASCO

PRIMAL SCREAM

DEFTONES

BLISS N ESO

ANGUS & JULIA STONE

PLAN B

PNAU

DIE ANTWOORD

EDWARD SHARPE & THE MAGNETIC ZEROS

BOOKA SHADE DJs

ANDREW W.K.

THE JIM JONES REVUE

BIRDS OF TOKYO

LITTLE RED

GYROSCOPE

VITALIC.

CSS

RATATAT

AIRBOURNE

DEAD LETTER CIRCUS

BLUE KING BROWN

THE NAKED AND FAMOUS

OPERATOR PLEASE

CHILDREN COLLIDE

GYPSY & THE CAT

WILL STYLES

LOWRIDER

SAMPOLOGY

KIDS OF 88

KID KENOBI AND MC SHURESHOCK

Posted by Troy Constable Photography™ on 2011-01-27 09:32:40

Tagged:

The post IMG_9417 appeared first on Good Info.

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beardcore-blog · 5 years ago

Text

IMG_0993

SYDNEY BIG DAY OUT 2011

2010 was one for the record books and a stellar year for BDO.

The more you care: the more we care.

Which brings us to 2011.

From the heaviest to the sweetest sounds in the world today, this will be a sensory overload not to be missed.

And we hope to see you there

Ken and Viv

So, let’s get it rolling…

TOOL

RAMMSTEIN

IGGY AND THE STOOGES

M.I.A.

JOHN BUTLER TRIO

GRINDERMAN

WOLFMOTHER

LCD SOUNDSYSTEM

BLOODY BEETROOTS DEATH CREW 77

CRYSTAL CASTLES

LUPE FIASCO

PRIMAL SCREAM

DEFTONES

BLISS N ESO

ANGUS & JULIA STONE

PLAN B

PNAU

DIE ANTWOORD

EDWARD SHARPE & THE MAGNETIC ZEROS

BOOKA SHADE DJs

ANDREW W.K.

THE JIM JONES REVUE

BIRDS OF TOKYO

LITTLE RED

GYROSCOPE

VITALIC.

CSS

RATATAT

AIRBOURNE

DEAD LETTER CIRCUS

BLUE KING BROWN

THE NAKED AND FAMOUS

OPERATOR PLEASE

CHILDREN COLLIDE

GYPSY & THE CAT

WILL STYLES

LOWRIDER

SAMPOLOGY

KIDS OF 88

KID KENOBI AND MC SHURESHOCK

Posted by Troy Constable Photography™ on 2011-01-27 09:39:39

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