#deeply felt puppet theater

[tmbgareok]

haute couture a la Robin

[teedeekay]

It's The Last Car in 2006 pulling double duty as Deeply Felt Puppet Theater with Jebediah Deeply (Robin Goldwasser), Gloria Felt (Amy Miles) and Pearlie Poodle (Chris Anderson). Later, Dan Miller joins in with.. a singing cupcake?? 🧁🤔

[become-a-robot]

Felt like sharing my Gloria Felt costume I wore at the Leesburg show + the fact I had to put it in a carry on bag, so every time I reached in for something, I had a pair of stowaway eyes looking at me

[fvriva]

🐖 for Thrandy and Lyth if you haven't already! I saw Ellie and am curious about their siblings as well :)

I dished out a whole hog for Thrandy in this ask, so I'll be talking about Lyth in this one! (Here's Ellie too for reference)

send an emoji + an oc (or order the WHOLE HOG)

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

I wanted something that evoked "Ellie" but elven, and in a different sort of direction than "Elthrandor". Eventually I landed on Elythra. Because they were raised with their bio dad, their full name here is Elythra Ryu.

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

Like their siblings, Elythra is 13.

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

Nope! They are aro/ace.

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

Lyth also loves sweets, but they like their dad's cooking even more. They're a big fan whenever he gets the ingredients to make a very fruity tteokbokki for them.

💼 - What do they do for a living?

They're currently a magical student on the isle Lethe in Eikas.

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

Out of the triplets, Lyth likes just being out in nature the most. They also used to really like visiting the theater, until they realized with their awakening empathy that all the actors were just Iryle's puppets.

🎯 -What do they do best?

They have a better sense of empathy and understanding of emotions than many due to their powers. They don't always know how to handle emotions (especially ones that aren't theirs) as a 13 year old, though.

🥊 - What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Lyth likes their alone time a lot. It's precious to them. They also like playing dress up quite a bit. They really hate being in crowds.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

It's weird to think of it as a best memory but it's probably when they first found out that their whole life and world was built on a lie and they had family outside of the island. It was scary in the moment but it gave them the strength to act on it.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Their empathy was on the fritz (happens sometimes) and it was raining. Rain on Lethe has amnestic properties especially for humans, and it was the first time they realized that not only was their dad starting to lose himself, but it was tearing him apart to be starting to forget his child.

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

No, but it's very similar. They're a pretty recent OC so I started putting them in Exordium pretty shortly after they were made for Prophecy.

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

Ellie died and I needed a backup character!

The culmination of Ellie's arc was to make a terrible choice, which coincided with the ability to make a wish. Long story short, they are the reincarnation of their favorite character and had to finish his quest as well, because he died before it was completed. When they made their wish (closing off hell permanently at the cost of the Veil hiding the magical world, and their life), they reincarnated on the spot into Elythra.

Lyth themself I wanted to be kind of reminiscent of Ellie but fully elven. I also had been taking in some empath media (The Bright Sessions + Theo from Haunting of Hill House) so I wanted to try my hand at it, and it felt like the most natural progression of some of Ellie's abilities.

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

Dark Souls but for mages exclusively. There's a future that exists for them as a wandering necromancer and ice-elemental sorcerer, wandering the hadal zone at the bottom of the ocean.

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Agender, Aroace, they/them.

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have?

Two siblings, and they have an inkling of them because their father talks about them both when he's a little delirious. Elythra already cares very deeply about them, especially when they start to realize that their siblings are both still alive.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

They care very much about their father, and worry constantly about his health because he's human. They know about their Archmage birth mother and are a little intimidated by her. Iryle is a surrogate mother figure and they were close with her when they were younger, but as they've grown they've started to see through her as a manipulator.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

I like how serious they are. The other two siblings have a silly energy to them because of the rp goofing but Lyth has always had a much more somber, sad air to them. A melancholy.

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

Not as much these days but I do write about them. I have some plans. I also think about them quite a lot because I think they have the most interesting life post-story.

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

Nope! Might pull a Clariel with them if anything.

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

They don't like crowded places, and they get overstimulated pretty easily. Not the same time as a phobia though. They're reasonably tough once they're uncomfortable, they just don't like being uncomfortable (who does?)

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

They don't really have a specific rival but in Prophecy they rehabilitated the final boss, the Leviathan, as their familiar, and they do something similar in Exordium with a trapped dragon spirit (Levyphystri, to fit my naming conventions).

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

Their official birthday is Valentine's Day, 2022 irl. (In game it's April Fools Day, 199Y) A little over two years. I've had them a bit longer but a backup character has the luxury of a specific debut.

🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC?

22!

[undergroundbillions]

I went though the trouble of passing the whole thing through Google translate for the server, and i know this is far from perfect, but for now I'd like to introduce you all to my favorite Russian review of Rag Dolly by Таня КОТ.

"On May 22, 2017, the premiere of the play "Rag Doll" based on the play by American playwright William Gibson took place at the Chamber Theater. Participants of the magnificent action are the actors of the senior group of the theater studio "Green Cat". Artistic director - Kuryanova Elena. I must say that I saw a great many performances with the participation of children. But not all of them were for children. Probably, in our modern world, crammed with gadgets, crazy toys and wild entertainment, kids have nothing left to do but love what is presented to them. But there are kind, good fairy tales, instructive films and ... amazing performances, to which I attributed the "Rag Doll". This is the right children's performance, teaching justice, self-sacrifice, the ability to make friends. It would seem that you will not discover anything new in it, and the story is as old as the world - a dying girl, a father kissing a bottle, dolls that come to life exclusively at night. But after all, children are the same at all times: they believe in miracles, look at the world with wide eyes, sleep in an embrace with soft bears, dress up Malvin in formal clothes. And the deeply ill Marcella is no exception. Mad doctors gave her a myriad of diagnoses that contradict each other, prophesied a speedy death: "Fever!" "Cold!" "And fever!" "Nonsense! She has no temperature." "Forty degrees." But how can a young creature die, who never had time to live? Especially in a good children's play. A rag doll, which has no lungs or spine, but has a kind, warm heart, helps Marcella to fight a terrible illness, to believe in a successful outcome. Annie's comrades are just as fearless and wise, except that Andy let us down. He was afraid of the villain's threats. But the prospect of being baked with an apple in your mouth is by no means rosy.Is not it? Fearless friends go to the hospital to the puppet doctor, because only he can help the hopelessly ill Marcella. Reasonable Panda, charming Baby, unfortunate camel are also going on the road. And the benefit of the heroes is in a fairy-tale world, because only in it can the best means of transportation be ... a bed. How difficult it is to reach the goal when trouble lurks at every step. Formerly the beautiful Yum Yum bird, now a fearsome bat, the ferocious wolf was once Marcella's dog. And General W. is that other type from whom you can’t hide and you can’t run away. He dreams of kidnapping the beautiful Marcella. The place of his bride is vacant, but the fatal bat claims it. Such serious passions flared up on the stage. And our brave dolls continued on their way. A witch who wants to hang herself in splendid isolation, who in fact turned out to be Marcella's mother, a magic ring seized from the General, dances that can appease even the uneducated, a pseudo-fish floundering in the depths of the sea - these are the dreams of a little girl. Or is it not a dream at all? It is no longer clear where the dream is and where the harsh reality is. Only the hands of the clock move inexorably forward, and if the puppet doctor does not examine Marcella, she will die at exactly six o'clock. Of course, there can be no sad outcome in THIS story. The toys, lost on the road, met again and embraced each other. And the puppet doctor received Marcella. “She is not sick at all. It's just that her heart is broken,” he delivered a disappointing verdict. Is it possible to reanimate a heart, assemble it into pieces and make it beat joyfully again? “We all make mistakes, baby. You have to be able to forgive,” perhaps this is the secret to a happy and long life. It was through forgiveness that Marcella found peace… and felt better. And Annie sacrificed her heart, because she is a true friend: faithful, sincere and reliable. And besides, dolls do not die, which cannot be said about girls. The story ended, as expected, safely. I would like everything to end well in life, and the kids never get sick."

[sillysymbol]

cringe is dead draw deeply felt puppet theater

[twst-vampire]

[ A Puppet with Few Strings ] - Arma

CW: implications of abuse and character death, puppets

something for @piraticusdorm ‘s Peaceful Shadows event! wrote this half asleep and on a whim after having a weird nightmare myself SO ! it might have typos or just be? not great lolol

( i hope the abrupt changes aren’t weird. i feel like that’s how dreams tend to be for me )

Arma could see a lone circus tent in the distance, red & white stripes illuminated by a warm light. He could hear roars of laughter beckoning him closer. Though, he was disinterested in going toward it. He had a feeling it wasn’t as joyful as it appeared.

With every step backwards, the tent had gotten closer. A panic of running, only had him engulfed into the light and the rowdiness of it all. By the time he regained his senses, he found himself sitting front row and center with every other seat filled by a mannequin, smiling brightly.

[ Why couldn’t he run away? ]

A drumroll rumbles the theater and a spotlight shines on a Punch and Judy-styled booth. Two glove puppets emerge. One burly and one lanky but both equally hideous with their wood faces carved crudely.

“Rocco, where’s that meat head brother of ours?” The lanky puppet cried in scratchy and pitched voice.

“Ricky, he’s hidin’ cuz he don’t wanna be a star no more.” The burly puppet responded deeply and both shrug, earning laughter from the still audience.

“Maybe if we all call his name, he’ll see how popular he is and come out!” Ricky waved his puppet arms, as if to pump up the audience.

Arma hears the cheers, the chorus of the audience callling his name and he can’t help but grit his teeth. Slowly, he feels the pull of his hair, finding that his point of view changed suddenly. He could the audience he once occupied and he was a puppet himself, trapped between Ricky and Rocco. They were smiling but, things felt so tense.

“We found you, Arma! But, you’ve been nothing but trouble keeping us waiting! So, take this! And this! Try this on for size, twerp!”

Both Rocco and Ricky pull out sticks, hitting Arma back and forth, eliciting more laughter from the audience with their slapstick routine.

The puppets relentlessly beat him on the head and all he can do with his little cloth arms is curl up. The curtain on their booth droops closed.

[ Why couldn’t he run away? ]

Arma looked up, feeling rather off. Restricted. He takes in his surroundings, the strings attached to his wooden limbs, his body shuffling against his will in a limp dance.

Neither Rocco or Ricky had left the stage, both puppet waving their sticks at Arma from the same booth beside him.

“Keep dancing, goddammit! We didn’t pick ya off the street to sit around and cry! We told ya you gotta work to earn your spot. We told ya we put down dogs who don’t cooperate!”

The audience cheers and roars, at a volume that’s even more nauseating than before.

Arma didn’t wanna dance anymore. The harder he pulled to keep from moving, his strings snapped in two, his wooden limbs going limp. Yet, he was still being carelessly pulled about on the stage.

The audience is silent, with wide smiles and stares that are sickening and empty. It seemed hopeless to think anything would change.

“You’re not a puppet.”

Arma could hear it clearly. A voice, familiar but small.

“You’re not a puppet, you’re human, right?”

There it was again.

Arma gasped as he pulled himself off the ground. He was no longer wooden. Back to flesh and bone. As he took in his surroundings, he was still on stage. Though, he noticed the puppet booth tumbled over and looking down, he held the Ricky and Rocco puppets by their necks, lifeless with nothing to say to him anymore.

Before he could say anything, the audience began to murmur, the plastered smiles they once held were now frowns. Sighing, he put the puppets on each hands, to which Ricky and Rocco began to swat his head with their sticks like earlier.

[ Why couldn’t he run away? ]

Arma’s eyes shot open suddenly, his throat feeling incredibly dry and his stomach in knots. He looked around, finding that he wasn’t even his room. He’d fallen asleep in his office, again.

“Fuck…gotta stop falling asleep in here…another weird ass Pinocchio dream.” He murmured to himself, looking at the digital clock on his desk. 5:47 A.M. Early, but there was no way he could sleep after that.

By his elbow, a pea-sized orb sits on the flat surface. It’s pitch black and dull, hidden to Arma as it blends in with the darkness of the room.

[axellaniez]

Yogyakarta: A Journey Through History and Culture

Yogyakarta, often hailed as the cultural heart of Java, offers an unparalleled journey through time, where history, architecture, and local traditions intertwine to create a rich tapestry of experiences. This city, with its profound historical significance and cultural depth, captivated me from the moment I arrived. In particular, the majestic Sultan's Palace, the quaint Dutch Quarter, and the immersive Javanese culture provided a deeply enriching exploration that left an indelible mark on my soul.

The Sultan's Palace: A Bastion of Javanese Royalty

The Sultan's Palace, or Kraton Ngayogyakarta Hadiningrat, stands as a testament to the grandeur and sophistication of Javanese royalty. This architectural marvel is not merely a royal residence but a living museum, encapsulating centuries of history and tradition. The palace complex, meticulously designed in accordance with Javanese cosmology, reflects a harmonious blend of indigenous design principles and colonial influences.

As I traversed the expansive courtyards and intricately carved wooden pavilions, I was struck by the palace's serene yet imposing presence. Each structure within the Kraton is imbued with symbolic meaning, from the orientation of buildings to the ornate decorations adorning their facades. The palace houses a wealth of historical artifacts, including royal heirlooms, traditional garments, and ceremonial objects, each narrating the storied legacy of the Yogyakarta Sultanate.

Witnessing a traditional court dance within the palace grounds was an experience of profound cultural significance. The dancers, adorned in elaborate costumes, moved with grace and precision, embodying the spiritual and artistic heritage of the Javanese people. The Sultan's Palace is not merely a relic of the past but a vibrant center of cultural preservation and celebration.

The Dutch Quarter: Echoes of Colonial Influence

Transitioning from the regal ambiance of the Kraton, I ventured into the Dutch Quarter, an area that exudes the quaint charm of Yogyakarta's colonial past. The Dutch colonial era, which began in the early 17th century, left an indelible mark on the city's architecture and urban landscape. The Dutch Quarter, with its cobblestone streets and stately colonial buildings, serves as a living chronicle of this historical period.

The architecture in the Dutch Quarter is characterized by its grand facades, expansive verandas, and intricate ironwork, reflecting the architectural aesthetics of the Dutch East Indies. Walking through this district felt like stepping back in time, as each building narrates tales of colonial enterprise, cultural exchange, and historical transformation.

The quarter is replete with charming cafes, galleries, and antique shops, offering a delightful juxtaposition of Javanese and European influences. These establishments provide not only a glimpse into the past but also a venue for contemporary cultural expression and dialogue. The Dutch Quarter is a place where history and modernity coexist, inviting visitors to explore and reflect on the complex narratives that have shaped Yogyakarta.

The Essence of Javanese Culture

Yogyakarta's true allure lies in its deep-rooted Javanese culture, which permeates every aspect of life in the city. The Javanese people are renowned for their rich traditions, artistic expressions, and unwavering commitment to preserving their cultural heritage. My immersion into this vibrant culture was both enlightening and transformative.

One of the most profound experiences was attending a wayang kulit performance, a traditional shadow puppet theater that is integral to Javanese cultural identity. The intricately crafted puppets, manipulated by skilled dalang (puppet masters), brought to life epic tales from the Ramayana and Mahabharata. The accompanying gamelan orchestra, with its melodious and rhythmic sounds, added a transcendent quality to the performance, creating an atmosphere of mystical reverence.

Exploring Yogyakarta's bustling markets, traditional batik workshops, and local culinary scene further deepened my appreciation for Javanese culture. Each interaction, whether with artisans meticulously crafting batik textiles or vendors selling traditional delicacies, offered a glimpse into the daily life and enduring traditions of the Javanese people.

A Cultural Odyssey

Yogyakarta is not merely a destination; it is a cultural odyssey that beckons travelers to delve into its historical depths and embrace its cultural richness. The city's ability to seamlessly blend its royal heritage, colonial past, and vibrant local traditions creates a unique and compelling narrative that resonates with all who visit.

In conclusion, Yogyakarta offers an intellectual and cultural journey that transcends the ordinary. From the majestic Sultan's Palace to the charming Dutch Quarter, and the immersive experience of Javanese culture, every aspect of this city invites exploration and reflection. For those seeking a profound and enriching travel experience, Yogyakarta stands as a beacon of historical and cultural enlightenment.

[influencermagazineuk]

Exploring the Magic World of Puppets and Mime: Simon Catillon's Influence from Paris to New York

Simon Catillon NYC theater There are artists who touch our hearts in the most profound ways, and then there are those who manage to touch our souls. Simon Catillon belongs to the latter group. An artist whose work transcends the ordinary, Catillon is a name that resonates in the realms of puppetry and mime. He has not only mastered these art forms but is also etching his mark on the United States. Simon Catillon, born in the heart of Paris, was drawn to the world of art from an early age. His artistic journey, marked by an insatiable thirst for creativity, has taken him from the puppet theaters of Paris to the mime stages of New York. Catillon has a natural talent for every theater-related art. Extraordinary drama and comedy actor, director and writer. In this article we will talk about his long experience in the field of puppets and the ancient art of mime. Growing up, Simon Catillon was naturally inclined towards art and soon developed a fascination for puppetry and mime, which are deeply ingrained in French culture. His early influences were the puppet shows he watched in the streets of Paris.  These experiences shaped his artistic perspective and laid the foundation for his future endeavors. Simon Catillon's journey as an artist began in earnest when he created an original puppet for the first time at a tender age. After years of performing puppet shows, Simon Catillon felt the pull of another art form - mime. He was always fascinated by the silent yet expressive performances of mimes. He admired how they could convey powerful emotions and stories without uttering a single word. This sparked his interest, and he developed his mime character, Lucien, in Paris. The transition from puppetry to mime was not easy. It required a different set of skills and a deeper understanding of body language and facial expressions. However, Simon Catillon was not one to back down from a challenge. He embraced this new art form with the same passion and dedication he had for puppetry. Simon Catillon's artistic journey bears witness to his relentless pursuit of excellence and his commitment to his art. After undisputed success gained in Paris as a mime and clown, he was attracted by the enormous American culture in the theatrical field. The city of New York, known for its vibrant arts scene, has provided Catillon with a larger platform to showcase the Parisian theatrical tradition. His unique style of mime, imbued with the essence of Parisian puppetry, sets him apart from other artists. His performances are not just spectacles, but a medium through which he communicates his thoughts, emotions and views on life. Simon Catillon's achievements in the field of puppetry and clown are noteworthy. His puppet shows earned accolades for his innovative puppet designs and compelling storytelling. Often laced with social commentary, they have been hailed for their depth and relevance. In contemporary times, France remains a hub for puppetry innovation and performance. The country hosts numerous puppet festivals and events, such as the World Puppet Theatre Festival in Charleville-Mézières, which reflects the country's ongoing passion for puppetry. The puppet tradition of Paris has had a considerable influence on global puppetry, inspiring puppeteers and artists around the world. The city's commitment to preserving and innovating within the art form has made it a beacon for puppetry enthusiasts and professionals alike. Parisian puppetry, with its rich history and vibrant contemporary scene, continues to be an integral part of France's cultural heritage, showcasing the enduring appeal and versatility of puppet theater. Simon Catillon’s puppet and clown shows are not only a form of entertainment but also an educational tool and a means of cultural expression. They can be used to introduce children to theater, literature, and important social themes. His art form is celebrated for its ability to bridge generational gaps, fostering a shared cultural experience. His performances bring a breath of fresh air in the city's art landscape. His mime performances are characterized by a deep understanding of human emotions and a remarkable ability to convey complex narratives without words. New York art enthusiasts can’t wait for his new clown and mime show. Simon Catillon's work will have an impact on contemporary art. His innovative approach to puppetry, clown and mime has changed traditional notions of these art forms and pushed their boundaries. Simon Catillon’s work is instrumental in raising the profile of puppetry, clown and mime in the contemporary art scene, proving that they are not mere forms of entertainment but powerful mediums of artistic expression. The Art of Simon Catillon is one of passion, creativity, and relentless pursuit of artistic excellence. From the puppet shows of Paris to the stages of New York, he is leaving an indelible mark on the world of art. His journey serves as an inspiration for young artists, reminding them that art is not just about creating beautiful pieces, but about communicating emotions and telling stories that touch the heart and stir the soul. As we continue to admire his work and his journey, Simon Catillon's art inspires us to find our own path to excellence across cultural and art form boundaries, uniting hearts and fostering growth among all who encounter it. Read the full article

[itstheinternetofthings]

Nick said he’s going to build me a real blog so maybe I can stop posting in secret like this, the group joke of my secret tumblr sad girl poetry posted only for the eyes of someone from a long lost era, but Nick has been busy rearranging his brain chemistry and marveling at the wonder of stretching, cuddling, birdsong, and crossword puzzles. At times I am even annoyed by it, his born-again unbridled enthusiasm for life, but I am still in the prison of crippling anxiety, the same one I’ve always been in, unaided by Prozac or lexapro, furtively inhaling ketamine and mixing kratom lattes in search of some kind of relief from being bent over in the kitchen crying at the thought of being so acutely perceived

Incredible what a curmudgeon I am after all, incredible that what I’ve resisted for so long - medication, psychiatric assistance - is now seeming more and more like a good idea. Will I lose my humor, will I bound like a labrador into life? Tongue flopping tail wagging, no fear just cringey sincere enthusiasm and desire to love?

Will I lose my ability to crumble into music, to cry on the train? Or will it simply, as I’ve been told, open a door, the choice to walk through still belonging to me?

Anyway. I’m heading into the office, wearing the scarf I made myself. It is the most beautiful scarf in the world. Last night we spontaneously went to an experimental theater on the east side and saw the immortal jellyfish girl, a Norwegian puppet show about the end of the world. Probably there are profound things I could say about it but mostly what I think of is how mesmerizing the puppets were- not creepy clacking marionettes but something otherworldly and mysterious, like a dream come to life. The electric glowing jellyfish girl sleeping in her tank. The slender disembodied head, it’s graceful roving disembodied arm, reaching out to murder with a single elegant flick of the wrist.

It felt good to get out and see art, I suppose it is one of the best reasons to live in this complicated city. I should do it more. I felt calm after, satiated. I made a pasta dish and we watched the show about the geisha chef and slept deeply, so deeply.

[tmbgareok]

Put together a little Gloria Felt costume for the Leesburg show comin up!

[become-a-robot]

[mangamushi]

Thoughts on Panorama of Hell

 (HINO Hideshi, 1 volume, 1984)

(warning for spoilers and disturbing topics)

In Panorama from Hell, a painter obsessed with depicting hell takes the reader on a journey to discover his life. His work, his neighborhood, his family members and family history are presented to paint a bleak and violent picture of hell on earth.

Hideshi Hino is a very big name of horror manga. Panorama of Hell is one of Hino’s most famous and acclaimed manga, and represents in many ways the quintessence of his style. When he draw Panorama, he thought it would possibly be his last horror manga (he didnt actually stop after that, though).

It displays all his favorite themes and even blatantly recycles ideas from his previous works. It is therefore is a very good entry point for anyone interested in Hino’s stuff. One the other hand, it feels a bit redundant when you are already familiar with his work, especially if you have read Lullaby from Hell, as both manga are very similar. 

As the title suggests, Panorama takes place in a hellish setting, described in great details by the main character.  He is a painter who uses his own blood to paint, and the world he lives is horrible in many ways: from his window he sees an execution platform operating non-stop, a stream full off trash and corpses runs next to his house, he lives in the smell of burning bodies because of the next-door crematorium... 

These first few chapters are so insistent on being as abhorrent as possible that I found it hard to take seriously. In the beginning it felt so exaggerated and lacking any subtlety  that it almost felt a bit comical at times, like the author was just stacking awful things on more awful things for shock value.

“his daily routine”

And it keeps escalating from there. Next, his family is introduced: cruel children with a dark sense of curiosity, a beautiful wife who seems straight out of a classic japanese horror tale (pale skin and long black hair, wearing traditional clothes...), until we go back in time to witness the story of his grand-parents and parents. 

It gradually becomes more interesting, especially the part about his family which shows deeply ingrained violence and insanity getting passed down from a generation to the next. It culminates when historical events (WWII and its aftermath, the atomic bombings) are shown, intertwining with the painter’s personal story.

Different kinds of hells complete each other (ambient with initial setting and scenery of desolation, a more personal hell with the intra-familial violence, and the wider-scale historical hell of war).

Overall, I find Hino less imaginative than  fellow “horror masters” Junji ito and Kazuo Umezu. Those two can come up with the craziest ideas, whereas Hino’s scenarios and imagery are somewhat more expected/conventional for horror. 

But perhaps the most interesting part of Panorama is the way it blurs the borders between reality and fiction. First of all, the main character, an artist who specializes in depicting horror, acts as a stand-in for Hino himself. This is fairly common in his work, his other manga Lullaby from hell even has an extremely similar character overtly present himself as Hino: 

The artist from Panorama is making his last, best painting, just like Hino who was thinking of ending his mangaka career with his strongest work.  Both the painting and the manga share the same title, “Panorama of Hell”. 

 The similarities between Hino and his main character don’t end here, and many elements of the story are actually taken from Hino’s own life: his grandfather really was a yakuza, his brother went into a coma, his father was pig farmer with a tattoo on his back...

Just like the painter, Hino grew up in the context of the direct aftermath of WWII. Both the character and the author were born in Japanese-occupied China, and were nearly killed when their family fled back to Mainland-Japan after the country’s loss. He takes inspiration from his own life and in the traumatizing things he witnessed and lived through to draw his manga. It is hard to discern what is fiction or not in the painter’s story. Many elements are obviously fantastical and folklore-ish, like the beheaded ghosts visiting the wife’s bar (this chapter feel like a tone-shift, it is much more whimsical, with the corpses happily eating their own body parts), yet the references to real historic events like the war and Hiroshima bombing still links Panorama of Hell to reality, to our world. 

The painter’s insanity makes him an unreliable narrator. Indeed, at the end of the story, the current members of the painter’s family (his wife, his daughter and son, his brother...) are revealed to have been fake all along : the wife and children are a mannequin and puppets, the brother is a pig’s corpse...

Moreover, by having the painter address the reader directly (”let me show you...”) Hino breaks the fourth wall that should separate the world of fiction from reality.

 This culminates at the very end of the book, where the painter throws an axe at the reader to kill them.

Hino’s art style is really simple and easily recognizable. The way he draws body horror and wounds isn’t very realistic, which makes the gore parts less shocking. His character’s simple, soft, deformed appearance reminds me of modeling clay or perhaps melting plastic toys.

I am even tempted to describe his style as cute. The big eyes, round features, and the way his characters are often miserable and mistreated by others...it is cute in a pitiful way.

Hino draws lots of babies, children, and baby animals which adds to both the cuteness and the horror. It also helps that I share Hino’s fondness for insects, worms and other similar crawling creatures...

There are figures based on his works that are just too cute! 

Hino often puts animals in his stories and even merges animals and humans. He writes stories where people transform into animals (Bug Boy) or give birth to inhuman creatures ( Unusual Fetus -My Baby ). Human bodies are more often than not hosts to parasites and maggots (Mermaid in a manhole...).

In Panorama of Hell, humans are executed one after the other like livestock in a slaughterhouse, and their bodies get dumped in a stream where they mix with other dead animals. Beheaded bodies try to put animal heads on to feel complete again, and the painter’s daughter is obsessed with animal corpses that she collects and dissects.

He doesn’t use any screen tones, nor does he use a lot of crosshatching as a mean to create different shades of grey, so the jet black ink creates a stark contrast against  the white of the paper. Some pages are beautiful and esthetically pleasing in spite of the repulsive contents. Especially towards the end of the book, which depict strange surrealist imagery as the world is falling apart.

His frequent use of pitch black silhouettes reminds me of shadow play theater  (which originates from China where Hino was born), as well as of Kamishibai (street theater using paper, which was very popular in post-war Japan). 

Kamishibai originates from buddhist temples and was often used to spread buddhist teachings.

Hino makes uses of buddhist concepts and imagery in his depiction of hell. Panorama of Hell could be compared to the Hell Scroll, a famous scroll describing the Chinese Buddhist conception of hell with text and pictures. 

↑ The “Blood Lake” and “Needle Moutain” in this panel refers to two of the different kinds of hells depicted in the Hell Scroll. The blood lake is exclusively for women.

Young women are only thing that are drawn in a conventionaly beautiful way.  However, finding beauty and fascination in the most horrendous things is a central point of Hino’s body of work. His characters are either artists or collectors obsessed with what fits their strange idea of beauty (cf. Flower of Flesh and Blood, where a woman’s dismemberment is an act of creation and a research of ideal beauty in the perpetrator’s eyes).

The contrast between the solid black shadows and the untouched white of the paper can give the impression that a strong, blinding light is hitting the world. The violent light emitted from an explosion, for example. Which is fitting, giving the importance of the Hiroshima atomic bomb in the story and its repercussions that still dawn on the characters years later. It’s like the characters are constantly bathed in the harsh light of the bombings. 

The Hiroshima bomb is called a “gigantic emperor from hell”, it rules over the character’s lives, even years after it was dropped. As a child, the painters created a replica of the mushroom cloud that he worships like a god.

Panorama of Hell is a very dark and pessimistic work, displaying a world where there is no hope and nothing is spared (not even the reader, who receives the painter’s axe!). In fact, the main character was already doomed before he was even born. Indeed, he is the child of the Hiroshima bomb itself: his mother got pregnant as she was hit by a beam from the explosion. 

[heythatpenguinhere]

The Day Avalor Won’t Forget- Eleteo Finale Fic

It’s finally here!!!! I cannot thank the EoA Discord enough for all the laughter and emotions shared after the Finale! Fan fic, art, and more were thrown and in the midst of it all a story began to unravel. Below is the culmination of the ideas of myself, Gus, Sushibelle, Halloweennut, and more who contributed to a silly head canon I had. Without you all, this story wouldn’t have happened and you all deserve equal credit. So without further, please enjoy! (P.S. It’s a long one!)

In the Kingdom of Avalor…

The laughter of children could be heard coming from the village square. Giggles of different tones and pitches were mixed about as soon applause joined them. 

A small puppet show’s curtain fell and the puppeteer himself stepped out in front taking a bow. 

“Armando! Tell another one!” A small child in the front said happily. 

“Yes! Please?” came another pleading voice, followed by a chorus of agreeing voices urging the man on further. 

The man, Armando, looked around at the crowd and then back at his lovely wife who motioned for him to continue with a large smile on her own face, saying she clearly wanted to see him continue as well. 

With a half sigh, Armando smiled back at the crowd, “Alright then! One more story.” He said and moved towards the back of the puppet theater stage. 

The children cheered and began to chatter amongst themselves as he prepared the next performance for them. 

“What story do you think he’ll tell next?” Asked one of the older girls, braiding flowers into her long hair. 

This made a younger girl next to her think. “Hmm, what if it’s about the Sunbirds?” She said, flapping her arms like wings. 

“Shhhh! He’s about to start!” came another voice. 

The crimson curtain began to rise and Armando’s voice rang out, “This is the story of a beautiful Queen and a powerful Wizard… The tale of a day no one in Avalor would soon forget...” 

-

Queen Elena flopped herself onto the throne in the ballroom, her crown tilting forward slightly as she did so. It had been a tiring day filled with royal documents and decrees piling up slowly on her desk. This was the side of ruling she hadn’t been looking forward to at all. But she bore it all with as much motivation as she could knowing that she had a duty to her people she had only just begun! 

Still… she could afford to take a little break and the quiet of the ballroom currently was quite relaxing to the new Queen, so much so that she began to close her eyes and breathe in deeply.

The large doors at the top of the stairs slamming open against the marble walls however ended any moment of rest she had begun to have. 

Elena jumped alarmed, turning toward the stairs where her sister now scurried frantically down to her. 

Princess Isabel looked disheveled and out of breath enough to concern her sister who stood up to meet her. 

“Isa? What’s wrong!” She said, looking her over for anything off. 

The princess groaned, cupping her cheeks, “Elena! I have a serious problem!” She stated. 

“What is it? Are you alright? Did someone do something to you?” The Queen continued questioning, taking in her sister’s demeanor, and trying to find the source of her agony. 

Isabel paused before mumbling, “Prince James… asked me to go on a… date with him…”

Elena got closer, “Prince James did what?” She asked, not fully understanding her little sister’s muttered words. 

“Prince James… ASKED ME ON A DATE.” The little princess ended up yelling in frustration, ducking her face into her hands. 

Elena was temporarily stunned. Her little sister had been asked on a date by a boy. She knew this day would come after all Isa was beautiful and smart! Isabel possessed so many amazing talents and traits that would surely one day wow someone in a different way… But she had no idea it would come so soon. She had seen them hit it off well at her Coronation and even dance, but an actual date?!

“Earth to Elena… Say something please?” Her sister said, peering out from her hands. 

“Sorry Isa, you just caught me off guard there! Wow, so Prince James huh?” The Queen said now teasingly with a wink. 

A groan from between hands confirmed that the teasing had worked. “Yes yes, now please I’m freaking out here. What do I do?” She said fully facing her sister. 

“Isa, I’m flattered truly that you’d come to me with this, but why did you come to me for this kind of advice? Why not Abuela or even Naomi? Don’t you think they’d have a little more… expertise here?” Elena said, laying a hand on her shoulder. 

Her sister looked at her confused, “What do you mean more expertise? I figured you’d know enough. I mean haven’t you and Mateo been seeing each other this whole time?” She dropped casually. 

Elena didn’t know what she had been expecting as a response, but THAT definitely hadn’t been it. It was equivalent to the feeling of freezing water pouring over her. 

“I-I… what?!” She sputtered out, eyes wide. 

“You don’t have to be shy about it, we all saw you guys dance together at your Coronation. Plus you guys basically live together here at the palace. It’s not actually a secret.” Isabel said, waving her hands around her. 

Elena still hadn’t moved an inch. 

“Did I hear that we’re talking about Elena and Mateo?” popped a blonde head from the top of the stairs also. 

Chancellor Naomi seemed almost giddy with excitement as she looked over at the two sisters. 

“I-I..” Elena continued to stutter, not being to form any coherent thoughts. 

“Oh come on Elena, it’s okay! You can totally let up on the secrecy. I think by now most of the Ever Realm has a pretty good idea of what’s going on between you to two.” Naomi said, causing Isabel to laugh a little. 

Elena however still felt like she wasn’t even breathing. 

“Um, Elena?” Asked Isabel a bit concerned when she realized her sister was still frozen in place. 

Just then one of the palace maids came by with a bucket and mop, “For what it’s worth your Highness I must say I think you both make a wonderful pair. You remind me of me and my own husband when we were young.” She said kindly with a warm smile, before continuing with her tasks. 

“W-We what?!” The Queen finally said.  

“Wait… unless there isn’t something going on… or you just really didn’t know?” Naomi suddenly responded connecting the dots with Elena’s shocked behavior. 

Inside the Queen’s mind was a jumble of emotions and thoughts threatening to flood her. Her dress wasn’t flashing different colors, but emotions flashed across her face just as clearly. 

It wasn’t until the throne behind them began to tremble did the girls realize Elena was about to burst. 

-

Across the hallway, an older woman carrying a basket overheard the topic of discussion from the opened doors of the throne room. 

One Rafa de Alva couldn’t help but listen in when she heard her son’s name mentioned and boy was she happy she did! Her son and the Queen?! How wonderful! 

Her steps became much more quick and joyful as she now moved with even more purpose to see her son. 

-

“Mateo! It’s me, your Mami!” She called down into the Master Wizard’s secret library. 

A thump and the dropping of something was heard before Mateo de Alva appeared. 

“Mom! I didn’t know you’d be visiting… Wait how did you even get in?” He said looking up at his mother skeptically. 

She smiled proudly back down to him, “That’s not important, what is that I brought you some of your favorite baked rolls!” She said holding up her woven basket. 

“Oh, thanks! I’m in the middle of working on a potion, but if you want you can come down” He said sheepishly looking back over at his half-completed potion and books. 

When he turned around Rafa had already made her way down the spiral stairs and was grinning ear to ear. 

Mateo moved to give her a hug and take the basket from her, but her unusually extra bright smile was confusing him a bit. 

“Um, thanks again Mami.” He said before turning back to his books, trying to ignore the strange vibes he was getting from his mother. Maybe she had just really missed him lately?

“You’re welcome mijo! Now, Mateo did you really think your own mother wouldn’t find out about what you’ve been up to in the palace?” She said leaning in close. 

Now Mateo was really confused. What he had been up to in the palace? What did she mean? He’d been pretty busy since the Coronation brewing new potions and working alongside both the Royal Guard and Isabel to improve and incorporate their magical defenses further.Besides that he had taken on teaching the Delgados more magic as well. He really hadn’t had much time for leisure, so what could she be meaning? 

“What do you mean?” He asked, turning around to gather a bottle of pure lavender extract. 

Rafa laughed, “Why when the wedding is!” She stated simply. 

Mateo stopped mid-pour. 

“The...what?” He said slowly to comprehend what he was hearing.

“Oh, mijo you don’t have to be so shy with your mama! I’m so happy to hear the news! The Queen of Avalor and my son?! You’re growing up so quickly!” She said with a joyful tone. 

It was at that moment that Mateo in his stunned brain fog ended up dumping the whole bottle of extract into the potion brew and the entire room erupted in a cloud of purple smoke. A small explosive sound could be heard from that side of the palace causing everyone nearby to stop what they were doing. 

-

“Let’s go over this again so I fully understand… So you were on the way here when you heard Elena and Naomi talking about… me?” Mateo said as he was still trying to wipe the purple residue off his robes and process what his mother was telling him. 

He couldn’t believe he had been so distracted he had caused a minor explosion. Luckily for his mother and him, it wasn’t anything serious beyond coloring them in purple powder. He had given several maids and royal guards a near heart attack however in the process… 

“Yes! I even overheard one of the palace attendants mention that she thought you both were a lovely pair, even reminding her of the relationship with her husband. Isn’t that so sweet?” She said, clasping her hands with a dreamy tone. 

Mateo couldn’t help but facepalm. This had to be a misunderstanding. Him and Elena? They were just very close friends… Sure they had been through a lot together and he thought she was the most amazing person in the world, but again they were just friends, even if Mateo sometimes wished they were more. Deep inside, he had a pretty good idea how he felt but he would always put Elena’s happiness and needs first, even if it meant above his own. This mentality had caused him to lock away his feelings for the better part of the past 3-4 years. 

Having now cleaned up fully, Mateo put down the rag he had been using. “I’m going to go talk to Elena.” He announced. 

Rafa beamed, blotches of purple still visible on her, “Oh of course! Can’t stay away from true love.” 

Mateo instantly blushed hard, pulling at his robe collar, and walking toward the throne room. 

-

“Alright Elena, let’s just calm down here.” Naomi said, backing away slowly from her friend. 

“Yea! We were just teasing. I’m sure not the entire realm knows!” Isabel offered in support, also slowly backing away. 

“What?!” She exclaimed as her throne began to shake and hover in the air. 

Realizing that her flurry of emotions was causing a scene yet again, she instantly closed her eyes and began to recite, “Baby Jaquins. Abuela’s Chocolates,” and more things that made her happy and relaxed. 

And yet even with all those lovely things in mind Elena still felt her breath quickening. Mateo and her?! Everyone knew apparently?! But they were just best friends?! ….Weren’t they though? The last time she had fully seen him had been her Coronation several days ago. When she had appointed him officially the Master Wizard and he had asked to be her first dance… 

She felt herself gasp lightly. Was that a sign? Was there more meaning behind it? Yes, they had danced quite a bit together in the end… but he had been dancing with Carla too? They even look quite comfortable with each other…

Her heart clenched as this new thought came with a new emotion. 

“Okay whatever you’re thinking about now, don’t!” Naomi yelled as she and Isabel observed the plants in the ballroom suddenly begin to grow violently in length, threatening to envelop the entire room they were in. 

The plant vines quickly began to reach outside the open windows and through the connecting doors, spilling out to other areas. Those outside could suddenly see vines wrap themselves around the north palace tower and began to flee in horror, wondering what kind of magical mishap or creature had been unleashed now. 

Elena could only watch on in horror, hands clasping her face. 

“Oh no no no!” She said trying to fan herself to hopefully calm down a little. 

Not even a full week into her reign as Queen and she had already lost control of her magic… again. 

-

Mateo jumped backwards just in time as a large mass of green sprung into the hallway from the throne room. 

“Woah!” He exclaimed, examining what he now realized was a plant vine moving further down the hall. 

“Elena!” He yelled realizing the source of the vines was coming from the room his mother said she was last in. 

The thought of her being in danger somehow motivated him to move and with a blasted spell, he made it through the nearly blocked doorway. 

As he looked down into the room, he was surprised to find that the only ones in the room were Elena, Isabel, and Naomi; not a malvago or creature in sight. The vines were continuing to move around, but he also took note of the hovering throne and banners flying around in a magical mess. Isabel and Naomi seemed to be trying to seek cover, but Elena was found in the center, looking around rapidly in fear. 

His eyes softened when he realized what was happening and he put his Tamborita away behind him. 

Elena’s eyes continued to flash around until they settled on him. 

“Mateo.” She simply said, some relief coming to her in seeing him. 

The vines halted their growth and expansion and the throne, along with the banners, fell to the floor. He noticed this and smiled. He knew she could handle herself; he never doubted her. He was still glad to see that he had a calming effect on her nonetheless. 

Little pitter pattering footsteps hopped behind him and soon the ever colorful Flo was standing in between the two friends. 

“You guys are getting married?! Can I be the flower girl, please?!” She squealed happily. 

Both Elena and Mateo found themselves stunned for another time again today. Caught with saucer-shaped eyes and mouths hung wide open, the room around them began to shake yet again. 

“Oh no…” Isabel said from behind a pillar. 

Mateo turned to see the movement resume before landing on Elena once more, just in time to see her flush a wild red and suddenly begin to tumble. 

He rushed forward and caught the Queen, delicately holding her in alarm, her crown tumbling from her head and rolling to a stop in front of Flo. 

No one in the room dared to move. Not even the vines. 

“Sooo… Should I take that as a no?” Flo said innocently looking at Mateo and the Queen now laying in his arms. 

-

“I can’t believe this all happened…” Elena said, flopping back onto her bed. 

Mateo moved to sit next to her cautiously, fiddling with his hands. “I’m so sorry for my mom’s gossip…” he said, feeling so guilty that this ended with Elena even fainting and the palace covered in vines still. 

She turned to look at him, “Oh Mateo, this isn’t your fault. Or your mother’s. Truth be told, what she did overhear technically happened…” 

This caused Mateo to look at her strangely. 

“Isa came to me for dating advice and she, well, she thought you and I… were a thing? And that’s where this whole mess started… Because I couldn’t handle my emotions and react properly. I’m sorry…” Elena admitted, sitting up against her pillows and avoiding eye contact in embarrassment. 

Mateo felt the rose tint fill his cheeks again. So that’s where the rumor came from. 

“I-It’s okay, really! You don’t have anything to be sorry about. It was all just a big misunderstanding.” He said, trying to contain his blush. 

“Of course… just a misunderstanding…” He heard her mumble from beside him. 

The almost disappointed tone in her voice caught his attention and despite his blushed appearance, he turned to her. Her face was lowered and she was staring at her hands. She seemed sad almost?

“Elena? It was just a misunderstanding right?” He asked carefully, not daring to insinuate something too deeply and risk their friendship. Afterall he had very firmly accepted his place in her life, as a best friend and trusted ally, and nothing more. He was content with that. Whatever made her happy, he would support her. He would be with her always. 

Her honey eyes looked up at him finally, “You know, apparently Isa wasn’t the only one that thought that? Naomi and even some of the palace staff noted our… bond. The way we danced at the Coronation and how close we are on the daily, they just took it naturally as a sign of something more. Accepted it so easily and even celebrated it…” 

He didn’t know what to say to all that. Was it really that obvious how deeply he cared for her to others? So much so that people didn’t even question it, but happily accepted it? And they thought it was mutual? 

“Mateo… Was it just all just a misunderstanding?” She finally asked him in return, a curious look on her face. 

Here it was. A moment. A door. She was asking him. Would he speak up? Would he finally pour out his feelings after years and risk their bond? Or would he deny them and keep their friendship where it was? He had spent moments wondering if he would ever get to this moment and what he would do when he did. Now it was actually here. 

While she looked at him still cautiously and hadn’t moved closer to him, he swore he could note every single tiny detail about her in this moment. She looked so vulnerable. Her eyes wide and observing him. He loved her eyes; he could stare at them forever, even now. They were the eyes of his best friend and the one person in the world that he swore knew him more than anyone else. But they were also the eyes of the newly crowned Queen. They were the eyes of someone who had been through so much and deserved to be happy. Could he face those eyes with this reality? With his truth? 

Could he really live a life without doing so?

He hesitantly reached out for her hand, Elena’s breath hitching. 

“What if… what if it wasn’t fully? What if there was some truth?” He said, leaping into the unknown. 

Elena’s face was reading a thousand emotions all at once when she whispered, “What was true…?” 

“The truth is that while we might not ‘be a thing’, the thought might have crossed my mind once or twice… or more than that. The truth is that we do have an amazing bond and I-I treasure you dearly. Dancing with you at your Coronation was one of my favorite memories… I could have danced with you all night and more if you’d let me…” He finally confessed carefully, feeling a large weight fall off his shoulders and now the fear of her reaction sinking in.  

“B-But what about Carla?” She suddenly asked, before covering her mouth embarrassed. 

“Carla? Me and her made up. We’re friends now and yes we had a great time at your Coronation, but Elena it was you that I wanted to be by all night. But it was your day, you deserved to choose what made you happy. You were so joyful and carefree that night, I didn’t want to impose myself… I’ve always just wanted you to be happy.” He replied, clasping her hands gently to steady himself as the truths made themselves known. 

She felt almost stupid for being jealous… Here he just shared his heart to her, like he had done many times before, but this time he was sharing it fully… With the fear of the unknown hanging around them. 

What would she say now?

“But… but what if you also make me happy?” She tested saying out loud. 

Mateo sat up straight as a rail. Had he heard that correctly? 

“M-Me?!” He stuttered out in disbelief. His hazel green eyes looking at her with hope. 

Her hands gripped his further, “Yes you, Mateo de Alva. You also make me happy. If I’m also honest, you make me very happy actually.” 

He swore her own beautiful eyes were shining right through him. This was definitely a moment he knew he would never be able to forget for as long as he lived. He wanted to ingrain every single second of it to memory. He never thought this would actually happen, yet fate it seemed had other plans. 

“So… where do we go from here?” He asked bashfully, leaning closer to her. He knew where he wanted it to go, but he would wait as long as she wanted if he had to. 

Elena smirked, “Wherever we want to go querido.” Taking the plunge and addressing him with a term of endearment that she had heard her mother use for her father.  

Mateo couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Well, I guess you’ll be able to give your sister some advice after all huh?” He said back, suddenly more confident and even flirty with her. 

“Just shut up and kiss me.” The Queen said, pulling him even closer and closing her eyes. 

“Whatever you wish for my Queen.” And soon the two were locked together, the day’s chaotic events fading around them, making way for the start of something truly magical. 

-

“And so the Queen and her Wizard began their love story together that day. Their love not only fixed the magical vines, but bloomed an entire field of roses in the palace gardens. Their love still lives on strongly, for there is no greater magic than love, and the entire kingdom of Avalor knows this because of them.” The puppeteer said, having the puppets of Queen Elena and King Mateo join in a hug, surrounded by hearts, before the curtain fell down again. Marlena finished strumming the last notes of the love song she was accompanying the show with. 

Loud applause filled both of their ears as the town’s children and some passersbys stood to their feet. 

“Bravo! Bravo!” They said together and Armando couldn’t help but blush as he took his wife’s hand to bow together. 

Looking over at Marlena’s smile, he couldn’t help but feel so blessed to have his own piece of a fairy tale as well. 

-

“I love hearing that story! It’s so different getting to actually see it though right Joaquin?!” said one of the older girls in the back of the crowd.

Her large hazel eyes had a far off dreamy look to them as she played with the flowers in her wavy hair.  

Her brother however looked nearly disgusted, “Ew! As if we didn’t have to already deal with mom and dad daily Alicia…” He said crossing his arms and rolling his amber eyes remembering his parent’s constant displays of affection throughout the palace and beyond. 

She sighed, “I think it’s lovely. They are still so in love just like that day once upon a time ago...”

[rougepetale]

I’m glad you came (Prologue) (SITS)

Fandom: Scandal in the Spotlight (Voltage love 365) Pairing: None.... yet (but multiple)  Warning: None.... yet Note: this is for @iluvsexyvoltageguys​ This is just the prologue so nice and SFW right now This will be a mini series of smut

The link had only be live for a minute when it had been bought up. The VIP+ experience.

You couldn’t believe that you were able to buy it. When it had the Terms and Conditions popped up it had become real. You had just spent an entire two months’ paycheck on this. Yet here you were, scrolling through the ten page document.

Nobody actually read those things anyway. You had signed your name on the dotted line and clicked ‘Accept’.

The concert was only a week away, you had to find the perfect clothing to wear to the concert. You were going to meet the entire band! You couldn’t wear your regular old clothes. And as much as you wanted to wear your fan shirt, your favorite fan shirt you didn’t want to come across as uncool to them. You had picked out a short dress that hugged your curves.

You had already scheduled your bikini wax and eye brows threaded. You wanted no hair out of place, and everything perfect. You didn’t know what this VIP event would lead to, best to be ready for anything.

The night of the concert you were so incredibly giddy! You were led to your seat by body guards. There were no other seats beside you, it almost felt like you were a princess. You could hear the chatter around you of excited fans of all ages and genders. You could even hear some whispers about you, who were you? Why were you by yourself? Were you a celebrity?

The lights dimmed and a hush fell over the crowd. The silence didn’t last long until the crowd began to chant “Rev-ance! Rev-ance!” You got caught up in the chanting and found your voice adding to the growing fervor.

The sun goes down

The stars come out

And all that counts

Is here and now

My universe will never be the same

I'm glad you came

 The lyrics rang out and the stage lights immediately lit up. The crowd went wild as they saw the men on stage.

They were wearing their trademark white uniforms as they started the song.

 You cast a spell on me, spell on me

You hit me like the sky fell on me, fell on me

And I decided you look well on me, well on me

So let's go somewhere no-one else can see, you and me

 You had jumped onto your feet and sang your heart away with them. It was by far one of your favorite songs. Your hands pumped along with the upbeat song and your body bounced with the beat. You were enjoying yourself that you failed to notice five pairs of eyes had watched you. They wanted to know who the lucky person was.

  Turn the lights out now

Now I'll take you by the hand

Hand you another drink

Drink it if you can

Can you spend a little time

Time is slipping away away from us so stay

Stay with me I can make

Make you glad you came

 The lights had turned down and lasers danced over the theater and you suddenly felt your hand being enveloped. You went to scream when you heard the sultry voice in your ear, “Easy there. Come with me” it was the familiar voice of Kyohei in your ear.

Your voice was caught in your throat as your legs followed obediently. You could feel yourself ascending stairs to what you assumed was the stage.  You followed Kyohei to the middle of the stage as you were immediately sat upon a chair.

The sun goes down

The stars come out

And all that counts

Is here and now

My universe will never be the same

I'm glad you came

I'm glad you came

  The light immediately came back on and you had to blink back against the brightness. On stage the five men were around you. They were but a few feet away as they sang and dance. You could see their smile, and their faces so clearly. All you had to do is reach out and touch them. Your hand obeyed your thoughts as they followed out to reach towards Kyohei. He had turned towards you and grabbed your out stretched hand. Pulling you from your sitting position to be pressed against his chest.

Your mind went blank. His voice was in your ear. His fingers caressed your chin before you were pulled from Kyohei. This time to Iori.

 You cast a spell on me, spell on me

You hit me like the sky fell on me, fell on me

And I decided you look well on me, well on me

So let's go somewhere no-one else can see, you and me

  His hand came to your waist then briefly came to your chest where his fingers ghosted over your breasts. You shivered and your knees nearly buckled. Was this part of the VIP+ experience? Your mind briefly wished it remembered anything about the contract. But the contact on your skin had your mind wandering elsewhere.

You made eye contact with Iori, his grey eyes looked so beautiful. No wonder he was named Prince Iori. His smile had butterflies in your stomach, he grabbed your hand with his own gloved ones and placed your hand over his chest where you could feel his heart beating wildly.

  Turn the lights out now

Now I'll take you by the hand

Hand you another drink

Drink it if you can

Can you spend a little time

Time is slipping away away from us so stay

Stay with me I can make

Make you glad you came

  Before you could fall too deeply for Iori you were pulled away from him to Nagito. His energy as you smiling from ear to ear. His own hands rubbed over your shoulder and stroked quickly over your ass. Sending tingles through your body.

He grabbed your hand and spun you away from him and back into his chest. He directed your body to dance like they were. Your body just a puppet being manipulated by the puppeteer.

  The sun goes down

The stars come out

And all that counts

Is here and now

My universe will never be the same

I'm glad you came

I'm glad you came

  You were passed off to Kota. His shy smile made you want to hug him on stage. His graceful movements made your own movements feel clunky and slow. He pulled you flush against his body and nuzzled into your neck for a second.

He had nipped softly at your neck and immediately you felt body jerking at the sensation, his tongue snaked out to sooth the skin. Having be pulled around by the guys was intoxicating. You could hardly think!

  I'm glad you came

So glad you came

I'm glad you came

I'm glad you came

  Before you could be nibbled more you were pulled to the leader of the band, Takashi. His seriousness rolled off of him even though he was singing such an upbeat song. His caramel eyes were full of emotion, conveying everything to you. He knelt before you for a split second. Taking your hand in his as he kissed your knuckles. Your skin felt as if it was burning where his lips made contact.

Your entire existence was focused on him, the scream of fans were so far off as if it was just you and Takashi. His words felt just for you. Like he was so happy that it was you that was on this stage. He reached up and removed his cap from his head and placed it on your own head. You could smell his cologne radiating from the cap. It was unique and intoxicating.

  The sun goes down

The stars come out

And all that counts

Is here and now

My universe will never be the same

I'm glad you came

I'm glad you came

  The lights went out and your hand was immediately taken and you were being pulled offstage, once again you followed obediently. “Good job up there! You didn’t trip at all!” You knew that voice, it was Nagito!

“I uh—“ your voice had failed you, you wanted to ask so many questions but you couldn’t even comprehend what was happening.

“We can’t wait to meet you after the concert!” his hands found your shoulders as he sat you down, “Enjoy the rest of the concert.”

Nagito was back on stage before the lights went back on, and you suddenly found your voice again as if it had been locked away while on stage. Everything was deafening, the shout of the crowds, the lights, everything. You sat in your chair in a daze as you watched them continue on with the songs as if nothing had happened. Yet your skin burned where they had touched you, as if you had been marked by them.

You suddenly couldn’t wait for the end of the concert to come quickly enough.

[axellaniez]

Yogyakarta, often hailed as the cultural heart of Java, offers an unparalleled journey through time, where history, architecture, and local traditions intertwine to create a rich tapestry of experiences. This city, with its profound historical significance and cultural depth, captivated me from the moment I arrived. In particular, the majestic Sultan's Palace, the quaint Dutch Quarter, and the immersive Javanese culture provided a deeply enriching exploration that left an indelible mark on my soul.

The Sultan's Palace: A Bastion of Javanese Royalty

The Sultan's Palace, or Kraton Ngayogyakarta Hadiningrat, stands as a testament to the grandeur and sophistication of Javanese royalty. This architectural marvel is not merely a royal residence but a living museum, encapsulating centuries of history and tradition. The palace complex, meticulously designed in accordance with Javanese cosmology, reflects a harmonious blend of indigenous design principles and colonial influences.

As I traversed the expansive courtyards and intricately carved wooden pavilions, I was struck by the palace's serene yet imposing presence. Each structure within the Kraton is imbued with symbolic meaning, from the orientation of buildings to the ornate decorations adorning their facades. The palace houses a wealth of historical artifacts, including royal heirlooms, traditional garments, and ceremonial objects, each narrating the storied legacy of the Yogyakarta Sultanate.

Witnessing a traditional court dance within the palace grounds was an experience of profound cultural significance. The dancers, adorned in elaborate costumes, moved with grace and precision, embodying the spiritual and artistic heritage of the Javanese people. The Sultan's Palace is not merely a relic of the past but a vibrant center of cultural preservation and celebration.

The Dutch Quarter: Echoes of Colonial Influence

Transitioning from the regal ambiance of the Kraton, I ventured into the Dutch Quarter, an area that exudes the quaint charm of Yogyakarta's colonial past. The Dutch colonial era, which began in the early 17th century, left an indelible mark on the city's architecture and urban landscape. The Dutch Quarter, with its cobblestone streets and stately colonial buildings, serves as a living chronicle of this historical period.

The architecture in the Dutch Quarter is characterized by its grand facades, expansive verandas, and intricate ironwork, reflecting the architectural aesthetics of the Dutch East Indies. Walking through this district felt like stepping back in time, as each building narrates tales of colonial enterprise, cultural exchange, and historical transformation.

The quarter is replete with charming cafes, galleries, and antique shops, offering a delightful juxtaposition of Javanese and European influences. These establishments provide not only a glimpse into the past but also a venue for contemporary cultural expression and dialogue. The Dutch Quarter is a place where history and modernity coexist, inviting visitors to explore and reflect on the complex narratives that have shaped Yogyakarta.

The Essence of Javanese Culture

Yogyakarta's true allure lies in its deep-rooted Javanese culture, which permeates every aspect of life in the city. The Javanese people are renowned for their rich traditions, artistic expressions, and unwavering commitment to preserving their cultural heritage. My immersion into this vibrant culture was both enlightening and transformative.

One of the most profound experiences was attending a wayang kulit performance, a traditional shadow puppet theater that is integral to Javanese cultural identity. The intricately crafted puppets, manipulated by skilled dalang (puppet masters), brought to life epic tales from the Ramayana and Mahabharata. The accompanying gamelan orchestra, with its melodious and rhythmic sounds, added a transcendent quality to the performance, creating an atmosphere of mystical reverence.

Exploring Yogyakarta's bustling markets, traditional batik workshops, and local culinary scene further deepened my appreciation for Javanese culture. Each interaction, whether with artisans meticulously crafting batik textiles or vendors selling traditional delicacies, offered a glimpse into the daily life and enduring traditions of the Javanese people.

A Cultural Odyssey

Yogyakarta is not merely a destination; it is a cultural odyssey that beckons travelers to delve into its historical depths and embrace its cultural richness. The city's ability to seamlessly blend its royal heritage, colonial past, and vibrant local traditions creates a unique and compelling narrative that resonates with all who visit.

In conclusion, Yogyakarta offers an intellectual and cultural journey that transcends the ordinary. From the majestic Sultan's Palace to the charming Dutch Quarter, and the immersive experience of Javanese culture, every aspect of this city invites exploration and reflection. For those seeking a profound and enriching travel experience, Yogyakarta stands as a beacon of historical and cultural enlightenment.