#it's not well-intentioned it's genuinely evil shit to do to somebody... to air out personal private relationship stuff to 'help' your friend

[beauzos]

was scrolling through twitter and that awful for you page threw that ls mark drama at me and i’ve spent like an hour reading about it and i just

[a-simple-imagine]

Stay With Me

Synopsis: Y/N tries to convince Rose to give up on Abra (Set during the events of the movie Doctor Sleep)

Pairing: Rose the Hat x True Knot member fem!reader

Words: 3k

A/N - I’m told I shouldn’t be in love with Rose the Hat because she like tortures kids or whatever but I see that as like a minor flaw. My new calling in life is writing Rose the Hat stories for a niche market of one

Warnings - Swearing, sexual themes, blood, mentions of violence, murder and pain. Doctor Sleep spoilers I guess??

It had been years and yet you could recall the day she turned you like it was yesterday. From Crow Daddy abducting you to waking up in a bed you didn't recognise. A place you didn't recognise. You remember the fear that coursed through your veins as she approached you. Her bracelets jangling with each step. Her style was very bohemian; it suited her well. A hat sat on top of her mangled brown locks. A cup steamed between her palms. She didn't look like a creepy psychopath, in fact, she was probably the most beautiful woman you had ever seen but looks could be deceiving and you could sense her intentions weren't pure. Ever since you were little you had been able to sense danger. It always started as a weird pull deep in your stomach. The closer the connection to the person the more intense it would become and this woman was like a bright red warning sign. However, every word that came out of her mouth was calculated but gentle. She spoke with such care that it was weird to experience. This woman sat down next to you, her eyes drifting over you. She smelt... earthy? Not in a bad way, it was intoxicating. She made you an offer that you couldn't refuse unless you wanted to be their dinner. The ritual that followed caused pain so intense you felt like your head was about to explode. Every cell in your body burning you alive. Trying to destroy you. She told you it wouldn't hurt; no fear but this was horrifying. Fingertips pressed into your skin as she tried to keep you focused as you writhed around. Nails scraping the ground like it would somehow help. Tears streamed down your face as your grip on reality faded away; desperate for a breath of fresh air. To this very day, you've never felt anything quite like that and you never wanted to again. It was perhaps a fate worse than death. 

Eat Well. Live long.

Things had certainly changed since then. It had taken you a lot of soul searching to adjust to being part of the True Knot but over time they had become your family. You still didn't quite have the stomach for snatching children or the atrocities that followed but you had come to understand that the world wasn't so black and white. Most of life sat in the grey area in between. With lives as long as yours and connections vast, consequences no longer existed. The shine was a rarity that was purest in children. The steam they produce is vital for your survival, it's nothing more than hunting for food. Rubes kill animals for food what’s the difference? Or at least that's how you rationalised the situation. Maybe you had just become numb to it all. You personally never actually hurt anyone. Rose had always had a sort of soft spot for you and you liked to use it to your advantage. She had never forced you to do anything you didn't want to which was primarily all the sadistic, gritty tasks. However, you would do the grocery shopping whenever somebody asked or you enjoyed cooking so big meals were never an issue. Why you still ate normal food was beyond you but they got a kick out of it. Helping with the day to day tasks made you feel like you were still helping out. It was unsurprisingly hard to watch somebody you were so utterly enthralled with do such horrid things. Often you'd find yourself diverting your eyes only to hear the cries of terror. Pain purifies steam so does fear. You don't understand why but it was part of the process. You could practically feel the pleasure she derived from it in every shotgun kiss shared between the two of you. The embraces could be considered magical. They made your heart melt and tasted like the greatest thing in the world; always left you craving more steam and craving her. She was always so intimate with you and over time you let yourself fall so stupidly in love with a complete monster. Rose the Hat was many things. She could be described as evil, manipulative, even intimidatingly disgusting. She had done awful things that your heart seemed to so easily ignore just because she was also rather charming. She genuinely cared for the people in her life; she was almost motherly towards them. And she was certainly very easy on the eyes. You adored her in ways you had never experienced before.

"You doin' okay, my sweet?" Rose's voice drifts into your ears bringing a small smile to your lips. You glance back at her from your spot on the edge of the watchtower, swaying your legs in a repetitive motion. She was in her usual spot, legs crossed for meditation. She looked so pretty and peaceful.

"Mhmm. Just thinking about life." You admit softly, turning back to nature. You enjoyed being up here. Rose, on the other hand, didn't like it so much when you disturbed her and often you'd respect her authority. But sometimes you came up here when she wasn't too busy or just to relax alone. It helped clear your head when you watched the others. That smile faded away as you feel a pit in your stomach grow. You had been sitting on an uneasy feeling for a while now but you had decided against telling her. The sole reason for staying behind was to comfort her the way she always did for you. Before you could warn her,  Rose just started groaning uncomfortably loud. Scrambling up, you rush to her side. Whatever was happening, she seemed to be in excruciating pain. Shit, she was probably gonna be mad that you didn't warn her. With such a faint feeling, you never expected anything major. Maybe the lack of steam was affecting you more than you thought. When she finally calmed down, she remained still breathing heavily. You placed your hand on her back but she shoved you away, climbing down the ladder. You follow quickly behind her; keeping a reasonable distance between the two of you.

"Crow has her." She growls; a bitter unforgiving anger laced in her otherwise beautiful voice. "The others... didn't make it."

Your brow furrows but you don't dare ask what happened. It had become pretty clear anyway so there wasn’t a need for details. You cautiously walk up behind her, wrapping her in your arms and placing a chaste kiss against her back. In response, she took one of your hands and brought it to her lips. "I..." Trailing off before so much as a full word is uttered, you hesitate to continue. You can't imagine she'll like what you have to say even with the best of intentions. "Rosie... I'm glad you stayed behind."

Her body tenses and you instantly regret having said anything at all. It was completely selfish and yet still so still true. The others were like family but your connection with them was nothing compared to your feelings for Rose. Although You had struck up quite a bond with snakebite Andi. Forcing her way out of your grip, she disappears into her Earth Camper and you decide not to follow her just yet. Instead, plopping down on a fold-out chair, you stare up at the pink and purple hues that coloured the sky. If you just left her alone, maybe she would calm down a little. You can't even begin to imagine how she must be feeling right now having endured all that. You still felt sick which wasn't a good sign. If you were at full strength maybe you could have predicted this but Rose was right in saying you haven't been eating well. Not for a long time. You finally work up the courage to go inside, peeking your head in first before barging in. Your lover was just sitting there staring out the window into the woods. She sighs loudly. "What's gonna happen to him?"

You're surprised she even talks to you as you come to a stop. "I'm not sure," you shrug. "but it's obviously not good." You approach her cautiously, looking out into the woods. There was once a time where being out here would have creeped you out but now you were the monsters that lurked in the dark. "You wanna take a nap with me? Crow won't be back for hours and you're just gonna drive yourself crazy sitting here." You take her silence as a no and so you leave her be. Climbing into her bed so you could keep an eye on her. You liked how small her bed was - if you could call it that - it always made you feel closer to her. It doesn't take long for you to drift off, you hadn't exactly been bursting with energy lately.

A blood-curdling shriek dragged you kicking and screaming back to reality. Jerking up in bed to see Rose on the floor. Her eyes shone brightly as she cried out in absolute agony. "What's wrong?" You wonder, shoving off the covers. Tears fell silently down her cheeks, her jaw tense in pain. You rub your eyes a little, you hadn't been out that long had you? Using your thumb, you slowly brush away any signs of her sadness. It seemed a lot worse this time like she was much more distraught. "It's crow isn't it?"

You meet her once shimmering eyes. Every ounce of softness burned by the fire of her anger. You've never seen her this mad before; it's... scary.

"I want that little bitchchild." She spits through gritted teeth. You back away from her, giving her the space she needed to not burn you in the crossfire but apparently, that's not what she wanted this time. She reached out for you and you take another step back, hitting the wall.

"Are you scared of me, my dear?" You almost admit the truth but you figure she already knows and that's why she asked. You liked her caring side but when she got angry it was better to steer clear. Shaking your head, Rose walks towards you and pulls you against her chest. Her embrace welcoming and tight. "I'm going after her- we can still track her." Rose huffs, loosening her grip just a little so she could look at you. There was a look of crazy determination on her face that made your heart ache.

"Please don't," you whisper softly. Burying your face in the fabric of her dress. Inhaling her like you never want to let her go.

"Y/N-"

"Something really bad is gonna happen." You interrupt quickly. "I- I can't lose you too."

She offers you a small smile. "You don't have to come with me but I have to do this."

"No, you don't," Your voice surprisingly firm as you scowl at her. There was a little smirk on her lips like she was proud. "We can find someone else, another kid- I don't care."

"You will when you're fucking starving." Rose snaps harshly. You let your head fall so you wouldn't have to look at her anymore. Rose was in charge and you had to respect her decision even if it was idiotic. The brunette places her hand softly against your cheek and you instinctively lean into her touch. She lets her forehead fall against yours. "You trust me, right?" Eventually, you nod a little. "Then trust me to do this. If not for ourselves than for the others that that little bitch murdered."

You could beg and plead until you went blue in the face but it wouldn't make a difference. Rose has becoming consumed by her obsession; motivated by her anger. This was no longer just about getting Abra, it was about revenge. She'd never been good at letting things go. She had lost her family so quickly. Felt them die one after the other like a game of dominos. There was no way to fix that. Even if you could find other rubes, the chances of them being as powerful as Abra; someone who got inside Rose's head like walking into a store would be almost impossible. And so you had to trust her even if it made your insides burn. "When are you going?"

"I got a little time." She forces you to look at her. Pressing your lips together softly at first but with increasing intensity. You could feel her pain in the way her teeth bore down into your bottom lip as she guided you towards the bed. Her knee speeding your legs apart. The metallic taste of blood dripping into your mouth when she pulls back. Her eyes were dark with anger or lust you couldn't be sure. "Will I feel it when you die? Since you feel it when we do?"

A soft sigh slipped into the air. You could tell she didn't want to talk about this and not just because it was killing the mood. "How bad is it?"

"Nauseating, a little better being so close to you but it'll get worse as you leave."

A gentle kiss was placed against your forehead. "You've always been too soft for your own good. Maybe I should have been tougher with you- made you carry your weight a little more."

"You like me because I’m soft," you argue, an amused smile spreading over your lips. "Makes me easier to manipulate or so you think it does. I just... go along with whatever because I wanted you to like me. I relish in the way you treat me."

"Oh my love, I know that. I can read your mind after all." Rose chuckled softly.

"I don't like when you're in my head." Her lips connect with yours once more.

I know.

Palm against her chest, you push her away again. She may be running off to her own doom but you couldn't ignore how you felt about her or the sick feeling beginning to fester. Something really bad was gonna happen and you can’t help but wonder if this would be the end for her too. Would they then come after you? "I don't know if I can last by myself."

"You definitely can't." She answers instantly and you're a little offended she's so quick to dismiss you but she was right. " but you won't be alone so it's fine, Y/N." She let her thumb dance softly over your cheek.

"When have I ever been wrong," you ask, a little too aggressively. She stops her movements for a second before continuing. "Tell me that what I'm feeling right now isn't a sign that you're not gonna make it. Promise me you'll come back and I won't bring it up again."

Her beautiful eyes drift to your lips but you're sure it's just to avoid looking you in the eye as she lies to you.

"Your wrong this time." She answers clearly. "I'll come back so please just... relax for me, my love."

You keep your word despite every part of you screaming to stop her. There was nothing you could do anyway. Her powers were far stronger and she had the stomach to do anything to get what she wanted. Her hand slips down to your neck where she sinks her teeth into your shoulder. An unexpected whine escapes into the air causing her to smile against you. Your arms wrap around her, pulling her flush against you. Pressing into her in order to be as close as possible. To feel every part of her just in case it was the last time. You rolled your hips against her knee which was still so conveniently placed between your legs. Rose sucked on your collar bone; marking you as her own. Dull waves of pleasure spilled through every part of your body until she stops you. Holding you down. Hand wrapping firmly around your neck. "Such a needy, girl." She hums, kissing you slowly. You try to move your hips again but her grip around your neck tightens so you stop. A whine slipping past your pouted lips. "Slow down, my sweet. I wanna taste you."

Rocked from your slumber, no words are shared between the two of you. Not so much as a plead for her to stay or an admission of love as you watch her gear up to dive further into the black hole of her obsession. She opens up a few special canisters she’d been saving. Inhaling the steam, on the last one she told you to join her. Giving you one last shotgun kiss. You noticed her hand was completely healed which meant she must have her strength back. You were feeling better too; stronger so it should have been no surprise when you felt like we're gonna throw up right here and now. You silently wish for a change of heart knowing she's probably spying on your thoughts but she was already out the door. It was still dark out. You're reluctant to go after her in case you touch her and witness her fate. So you stay by the door, feeling the cold air in nothing more than one of her shirts. The jeep roars to life and without so much as a glance back she drives away. You remain there until she's out of sight and you're left to play with the ghosts of a once lively campsite. For a second you're at peace and then her voice filters into your head.

Trust me. I'll get her. The tears you had managed to subdue no longer cared for composure and you begin to silent sob for a woman whose fate was yet to be sealed.

[regrettablewritings]

Okay so I got asked earlier about elaborating on my feelings towards Fantastic Beasts 2...

Disclaimer: These ramblings are my personal feelings on the most recent addition to the HP franchise, Fantastic Beasts 2: Crimes of Grindelwald. You needn’t agree with them, but I have a right to express my feelings concerning the film and how it handled its story, its editing, characterization, and motivations. If you liked the movie, great! I didn’t. And here is where I will dispense why. Also, as if it bears mentioning, spoilers.

So...There’s a lot to unpack here. And, unfortunately, most of it is not fantastic beasts – mainly because aside from a few creatures that only exist as trailer fuel, the story’s pretty much departed from the importance of creatures and the allegories they can potentially offer. I mean, on one hand, I understand that it must be difficult to make five films revolve continuously around weird creatures and Newt’s efforts to utilize them and be the magical Crocodile Hunter. But on the other, they’ve made, like, five films centered around people reviving dinosaurs so this frankly isn’t impossible if done with good planning.

This, in my opinion, was not done with good planning. Rather than be done with the intention of being a suitable continuation to the promising first film, CoG wound up being a jumble of poor editing, nonsense twists, and character bastardizing to name a few.

But before I get into that, let me make it clear that I didn’t hate everything about it. The movie had some good qualities about it such as:

Theseus is actually a good brother. For years, we were kinda inched towards the idea that because he was the socially favored Scamander brother, that he must be a golden boy and even a bit arrogant. Newt’s impressions of him didn’t exactly help, either. But what we wound up with was a well-meaning if a bit primmer guy who’s affectionate (“a hugger” according to Newt), controlled, and ultimately does love his younger brother even if he doesn’t necessarily see eye to eye with him. I was talking with a friend about him and their relationship makes a bit more sense and even gains more points if you consider how Newt is coded as autistic: Theseus doesn’t get his brother and admittedly does wish he’d calm down, but he clearly isn’t comfortable with others looking down on Newt for his oddities.

Plus, Newt stepping out of his comfort zone to give Theseus a hug in his time of need is especially heartwarming even if in the face of something tragic.

Leta Lestrange being an example of how Slytherins aren’t all prejudiced assholes, rather they are characterized by their ambition and cleverness rather than the evils that can result from those traits going untamed.

Newton Scamander is the only person to make “your eyes look like salamander eyes” romantic.

“WALK WITH ME!”

Niffler babies!!

And, uh . . . yeah, that’s it. Everything else either left a bad taste in my mouth or punched me in the brain. So without any further ado or necessary order, let me just air my grievances and get this one-ton pain off my chest:

Too many storylines. I know this was a common complaint directed at the first installment of the series, but here, it’s really evident because we’re following Newt and Jacob following Tina who’s following Credence who’s following a trail and eventually following Grindelwald and Yusuf who’s following Tina to follow Credence and Grindelwald who’s not exactly following Credence but whatever then we got Leta who’s not necessarily following anyone but holy shit that’s without delving into the respective meat of all of the A, B, C, D, E, and so on plots

Queenie. Just. Queenie. What did they do to our favorite blonde Goldstein sister?! In the first movie, Queenie was established as being the more openly soft sister. Yes, she was more emotional than Tina, but it was never to the point of her actually making stupid decisions – especially because it was proven that the airheadedness was all a ploy and that Queenie’s actually pretty smart and intuitive (you know, when not reading minds). Which makes her decision to bewitch Jacob into marriage the first sign that something was wrong. The thing that made their attraction to one another in the previous film unusual yet still enjoyable was that it signified that not all magic-doers in America were against interacting with No-Majs and a potential allegory for interracial marriage, given how her initial intrigue towards Jacob as a No-Maj quickly evolved into genuine intrigue for him as a person.

By the time of CoG, however, this care has evolved into obsession wherein Jacob’s treated more like a commodity rather than an actual person. Yes, he does return Queenie’s feelings, but robbing him of his consent regardless is just an awful thing to have done to him. Jacob’s unwillingness to marry Queenie isn’t one born of fearing commitment; it’s because as much as he loves her, he hates the idea of her suffering for his lack of magic even more. Unfortunately, to Queenie’s now apparently rapid mind, this translates as him being too afraid and that it’s up to her to make any moves – moves that are highly concerning for everyone, let alone somebody who displayed such consideration in the previous film.

Going off of this, her decision to join Grindelwald is just . . .? The man will literally have people like the one you claim to love killed. Maybe not all, but the ones that do survive will likely not live well. This includes Jacob. So what sense is there to this?! And this is without considering she can read minds

Credence. I mean, I think everyone was sort of prepared for him to do what he did in the end, but actually watching it honestly made me realize how stupid it was for him to do that. I mean, you could argue that as far as he’s concerned, Graves and Grindelwald are two different people, as whatever was left of him managed to wisp away before the big Scooby Doo reveal. So as far as he may know, Graves did him wrong; Grindelwald is only trying to help. But even still, I hate what they’re doing to this guy.

Going off this . . . The whole Aurelius thing. I’ll admit that by that point, I was dead in my seat so I wasn’t sure if I heard the specifics, but did Grindelwald specify that Aurelius was Albus’ brother? Because if not, he’s just a relative in the Dumbledore family. Which kinda defeats the previous claim of Credence’s importance to the wizarding world imo.

Newt’s sudden infatuation with Tina comes off as clumsy. Yeah, it’s cute, but it seems so out of place. Sure, we can assume during the time skip that they kept in touch decently, but I sincerely doubt that in that amount of time, Newt managed to fall for her, let alone to the extent that he displays. I know I keep referencing the first film, but considering they’re, you know, supposed to be part of the same franchise, it’s key. But in the first film, the attraction is hinted at in the lightest of ways. We know they’ll get married, but that doesn’t mean they need to be immediately into one another, much less to the extent wherein Tina displays jealous tendencies and Newt is full of Freudian slips about how attractive he finds her. This wouldn’t seem too out of place later down the line, but to have that already just seems misplaced.

The situation regarding Yusuf and Leta’s mother and Corvus Lestrange . . . If this was supposed to be a sort of reference to the r@pe of black women from white men, yeah, it happened, but I’m not so sure how I feel about it being used here, mainly because it winds up contributing to Leta’s “tragic mulatto” trope. However, it also makes me wonder if it would be as intensely questionable if Leta’s mother had been white but that doesn’t really make it any better considering that the marriage was nonconsensual and resulted in death by childbirth.

This is more of a nitpick, but it bothered me how a lot of important exposition seemed to come from the mouths of those bearing hard-to-decipher accents.

This is just what I remember and what I condensed by the by. There’s probably a few other gripes I have rattling around up in the old noggin but I’m already exhausting myself here and this is already a pretty damn long list as is. But I the thing is, I don’t think I would’ve been this frustrated if they had just waited to do some of these things in a later film.

Some of these motivations and whatnot would’ve made more sense a little ways down the line after putting the characters through situations that pushed them to do the things they do. For example, Queenie’s nonsense decision to join a man who’d rather her lover’s kind mostly die doesn’t make sense in a movie that we acknowledge has had a timeskip, but doesn’t show what occurred within the timeskip. Choosing to join Grindelwald should be what happens after the audience sees her struggle to maintain the relationship. We need to have a reason to understand her dive into a darker mindset. The audience needs to see a woman who has been through trial after trial and snuck high and low to little success just to be with the one she loves, not a yandere flapper girl in the making.

Likewise, we need to see how Credence put himself back together. If the sequel to Fantastic Beasts couldn’t showcase that, they needed to at least dedicate time to Credence familiarizing himself with the magic world. The dude was a stranger to it all before, how did he wind up finding a magical circus? They’re not exactly lying about, especially in America, so who did he find or who found him and brought him into the wizarding world? I wanna see that, not him suddenly knowing how stuff works. (Going off of that, how did a mind and body-consuming form of dark magic go from a means of death to basically an Overwatch Ultimate? An Obscurus isn’t like a Hulk serum you can whip out and reel back in, that shit is deadly and nearly wiped out half of Manhattan.)

Anyway, by showing Credence’s further involvement in the magical world, he can be introduced to further situations that may arguably make him more pushed toward Grindelwald (even though it’d still be kind of dumb no matter what way you slice it). Having him suddenly join to find out who his parents were just feels . . . weak. Even for Credence, who’s in a constant state of vulnerability.

Like, Jo. Joanne. JK. Ms. Rowling. Please: I get that you’re trying to live up to the hype or what have you, but try not trying. Your stuff flowed better when you were just trying to tell a story, not hash out a story with intent on it becoming famous. I get wanting it to thrive from a business standpoint (anyone who pretends they wouldn’t want their shit to make beaucoup money is a damn lie), but it just doesn’t work when you’re forcing it.

So . . . yeah, that’s the gist. There’s definitely people who can say it more eloquently but whatever, you chose to read my take on it, so you got it. Like I said before, if you liked Crimes of Grindelwald, that’s fine. I like quite a few films others find trouble enjoying. I just didn’t like this one.

[lesbianrobin]

sunrise

Pairing: Clizzy Words: 1179 Warnings: none

Read on AO3

Clary always doodles. When she’s excited, when she’s nervous, when she’s on her third cup of coffee in as many hours. Sometimes she draws what she sees, or something in her imagination, or, on one memorable occasion, her American Literature teacher as a swimsuit model. She constantly has smudges on her hands, from ink and paint and graphite and oil pastels in more colors than Izzy even thought existed. Colors are Clary’s favorite thing about art, besides the emotion behind it and the glamorous life of a not-quite-starving art student. She loves to find the exact shades of white, brown, beige, and pink to mix and match Izzy’s skin or the perfect oil pastel to highlight her hair, and, when working only with a regular pencil, she loves to spend hours shading everything just so, bringing shades of grey to life. Clary is currently bathed in color, pink and orange light making her hair shine and her pale skin glow as though gilded. She sits on the windowsill, leaning against the large window frame and gazing out towards the city. Her sketchbook rests on her legs and a yellow bucket of colored pencils rests between her bare feet. In another world, one that was harsher and more taxing on the soul, she might look like a raging wildfire, but all Izzy can see is a hearth, a home, a warm fire’s glow reflected in her girlfriend. Clary bites her lip as she uses a fingertip to smudge something on the page, and Isabelle’s breath catches in her throat. How in the world has she gotten so lucky?

“I can hear you thinking from over here,” Clary calls, looking up from her sketchbook with a cheeky grin, “You want to tell me what’s on that beautiful mind of yours?”

“You,” Izzy says, lying on her side, still too deep in the post-sleep haze of early morning to come up with a witty response.

Clary’s grin grows to a beaming smile, and she blows a kiss across the room.

“What’re you-,” Izzy pauses to yawn, “-working on?”

“An artist never reveals her secrets.”

“That’s magicians.”

“Making something beautiful appear from thin air- is there that much of a difference?”

Izzy bursts out laughing.

Clary pouts. “What? What’s so funny?”

“Baby, that was so pretentious.”

Clary wings a pencil at her and misses, striking her own pillow.

Izzy sits up from her blanket cocoon and stretches. It’s then Clary’s turn to hold her breath for a moment, entranced by glowing golden skin and a sparkling smile. She’s grown more or less accustomed to experiencing Isabelle’s beauty day after day, but in moments like these, Clary feels like she’s seeing her for the first time.

“Are we still meeting everyone for brunch today?”

“Well, I’ve got a bunch of annoyed whiney texts from your brothers, so I think it’s safe to say Magnus still expects us at ten-thirty.”

Isabelle yawns again and pushes a large knot of dark hair out of her face, wrinkling her nose.

“You are so adorable,” Clary says, and suddenly realizes that at some point, she put down her sketchbook.

Izzy tilts her head and her lips quirk into a bemused smile.

“What did you say?” Izzy asks, teasing but with a genuinely interested tone.

“I said you’re adorable, you jerk!” Clary hides her face in her hands, unable to stand the full force of Izzy’s inquisitive gaze.

A few seconds pass, and Clary feels warm hands on hers. Izzy gently pries her girlfriend’s hands away from her red face and leans in for a kiss.

“Gross, brush your teeth first!” Clary says, but leans in to give Isabelle a sweet kiss anyways.

“You know, Clary Fray, I have been given many names in my day, but you just gave me three new ones,” Isabelle says, criss-crossing her legs to sit on the floor by the low windowsill.

Clary’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What, nobody’s ever told you how cute you are?”

Izzy shakes her head. “I get a lot of hot and sexy and intimidating, but never adorable or jerk or even gross.”

Clary frowns. “Alright, sure, you’re unfairly gorgeous, but you’re also kind of a little shit sometimes. That’s why I love you.” She says it plainly, like it’s an indisputable truth that Clary Fray loves Isabelle Lightwood and Izzy should already know why.

Izzy gives Clary a long look, and slowly reaches out to brush a lock of almost violently red hair behind her ear. She leaves her hand there and cups Clary’s cheek, stroking softly with her thumb. Clary gazes back adoringly and brings her own hand up to take Isabelle’s. She brings their joined hands to her lips and presses a kiss to Izzy’s skin.

Izzy sits up on her knees to softly kiss Clary, once, twice, and press their foreheads together. They sit together quietly and Isabelle breathes I love you into the cool morning air, her eyes tightly shut. She opens them to find Clary gazing intently into her eyes, and this time Clary leans in for something more substantial. Their lips collide-

And Clary slips off of her perch, falling onto Izzy and leaving them both sprawled on the cold, hard floor.

They dissolve into giggles, which turn to full-bodied laughs and clutching stomachs and catching breaths. Clary rolls over so that she’s lying on top of Izzy, the lines of their bodies nearly perfectly matched.

“Why, hello there,” Izzy says with an exaggerated breathy tone and an impressively sleazy wink.

Clary kisses her properly, deeply, her bottom lip slotting between Izzy’s. Izzy begins to breathe a little harder as tongues enter the fray, and she can’t recall ever feeling so light and loved. Clary pulls back and Izzy chases her, lifting her head off the ground as far as she can with another person laying fully on top of her. Izzy glares at Clary, who winks back.

Clary wiggles her way down Izzy’s body, just long enough for her to get excited, and then abruptly stops with her head over Izzy’s chest. She proceeds to situate her head directly between Isabelle’s breasts, clinging to Izzy’s black sleep shirt that Clary’s certain she stole from her brother.

“And just what do you think you’re doing down there?”

“Napping,” Clary replies, burrowing into Izzy’s chest.

“You are evil! And it’s, like, seven in the morning!”

“I got up early for the sunrise,” Clary mumbles, following her statement with a very convincing yawn.

Isabelle rolls her eyes and opens her mouth for a moment, and then closes it. She rests her head back on the ground and closes her eyes.

She cards her hand through Clary’s hair lazily as their breathing slows. Clary takes Izzy’s unoccupied hand with her own, and plays with her fingers for a while. Her fingers slowly stall as her grip on Isabelle’s shirt relaxes. Izzy’s stroking ceases soon after, and they’re drifting.

They wake up hungry just before noon to somebody banging on the door and two incessantly ringing cell phones, and neither girl has any regrets.

[wclfwiife]

The Night the Lights Went Out in Briarcliff...

    “C’mon,” she gestured for him to follow her without waiting for him to respond. The lights were out, which didn’t sit well with the psych patient...she hated the dark, but when the power went out, she knew it was going to be big trouble for everyone inside these walls. Looking back at the guard she’d grown quite fond of, Ash huffed at his hesitance. “Come on!” she repeated, this time with more urgency and held out her hand for him to take. “I’m gonna get you outta here.”      The man watched her as she moved, following slowly, although his mind was racing in twenty different directions as to what he should do. He should be rounding up patients, getting everyone into their rooms and finding his fellow security guards to find out more about their situation and how long the power would be out, why the back up generators weren’t kicking on, etc... He wasn’t going to just leave. “I have to get you back to your room, Sp--Ms. Collinson.” He decided that their little nicknames wouldn’t be helpful in this moment, especially since he would have to use his authority voice to coax his rambunctious and incredibly stubborn, albeit his favorite patient, back to her room where she’d be safe until the power came back on. The she-wolf rolled her eyes at that. “Seriously? Now we’re gonna be all formal and shit? I need to get you out of here, so you have to come with me. It isn’t safe for you here. Not when the lights go out...” she lowered her voice, not purposely but more out of a certain level of what sounded like genuine fear for a moment, “---bad things happen when the lights go out.” 

    From a distance, a loud scream of agony echoed through the dark hallway and Ash ducked before pushing him into the doorway of a nearby room. “See?” She looked up at him with almost pleading eyes. “Bad things...” She took his hand this time, not waiting for him to take it willingly and led him back into the hallway and down the corridor. The guard was taken aback by her boldness for a moment, but only just, as it wasn’t completely out of character for her to be so take charge, but the fear in her eyes... that was out of character. He’d only seen it a few times and every time it was before she was heading to see her least favorite doctor in the place. He didn’t know what went on in their sessions, he assumed that she was forced to talk through her issues or made to realize why she was actually here and that’s why she hated him so much. But he had no idea that in those sessions, she was not forced to talk... but she was forced into other things. She was touched and tormented, electrocuted and beaten... She hated that man with a passion for what he was doing to her and her friends here.. he was evil. But nobody knew it... Nobody that wasn’t crazy. And who would believe a crazy person if they accused a revered doctor of such horrible things? Nobody... You have no voice when you’re on the inside of the padded cell...nobody believes a psychopath. Nobody believes a crazy person... after all, their brains aren’t like the rest of the population. They aren’t wired right. So given the choice, who would one believe? The doctor whose work and studies have been known and marveled for decades...or the medicated weirdo in a straight jacket? Hint; it isn’t the latter.       As they made their way quickly down the hall that seemed to stretch longer than he remembered, more sounds of terror and horrible screams pierced the black veil of darkness like blades of pure sorrow and fear. He had to do something, he couldn’t just escape and leave all these innocent people to whatever fate was being handed to them. It wasn’t who he was. Most of the patients here were just lost souls in need of extra care and guidance. They weren’t crazy, they were just...different. They thought and worked differently than others. They were mentally ill and they needed help. But some of them... some of them were evil, plain and simple. Not a conscience or soul to be found within them. Their intents were only to hurt other people. He’d witnessed it several times in group therapy sessions, the cafeteria at meal times, and even in the hallways during transport... He’d witnessed it when he was taking walks with Ash and one patient in particular took an interest in her in the worst way---obsession. The way he looked at her... it made Rick’s blood boil. He could see the mixture of lust and rage in the other man’s eyes when he looked in her direction and God help him when he made eye contact with her... Rick was supposed to stay neutral and level headed with the patients but that guy... he hated him. He would’ve loved nothing more than to take a swing at him a few times outside or in the hallways when he would look at her with that disturbing, grotesque look... or when he would touch her when he thought nobody was around, press his body against her in line for dinner, make obscene gestures at her from across the room... it was disgusting. He was sentenced to life in prison for mass murder, attempted murder, rape, and several other heinous crimes but the courts rendered him incapable of serving time because he was mentally unstable and criminally insane. He was in solitary for a whole month before they let him out to coexist with the other patients. The doctors believed he’d spent enough time in solitude and would benefit more from being with others, because he wasn’t a threat while medicated. But still, Rick never trusted him.       He continued to follow Ash through hallway after hallway, trying to think of plans to get her safely back to her own room where he was sure she’d be safer than wandering around in the dark, which he knew she was afraid of. It almost made him smile, the thought of her braving her fear just to help him, but this was not a time for amusement, especially when she was risking her life to get him out of danger. A sense of appreciation circulated through him, however, he wasn’t the one in danger, even if she believed that he was. His thoughts were interrupted when she stopped abruptly and turned to face him again. He stopped just as quickly as she did, although not quickly enough that he could avoid bumping into her, almost knocking her over. He grabbed her to keep her upright, holding her close as another scream broke through the air, a sound of pain and gurgling yelps followed by a low, disdainful laugh--a short praise of admiration. “Shh,” he whispered as he stroked her hair, ready to throw her into a room if he had to. There were patients that were armed, now he was positive of that as she saw the steady trickle of blood slowly run past the door frame. He never moved, not wanting to scare the girl in his grasp, but he saw it from the corner of his eye while he continued to pet her to keep her calm. What he hadn’t realized, of course, was that she’d seen much worse before she got here. She wasn’t always a nut house inmate.. there was a time when she was held in high esteem to an army of non-human warriors. It was her livelihood.. but it all got taken away when she was found guilty of a crime she didn’t commit and then charged as criminally insane before locking her away in the insane asylum because somebody had ratted her out....telling them how she believed herself to be a wolf and a general in a super powerful army of non-humans... telling the whole court how she was killing people in the name of some God nobody had ever heard of, aka; Acheron, her brother... but the killing blow was that this all came from someone who had known everything about her.. had posed as a friend and learned all of her secrets by spying on her for almost a year. Someone who posed as a powerful human with connections and ties to the government so who did they believe? Not the crazy one, of course...       “You’re stalling...” she spoke quietly, “..please, Rick... let me get you out of here. You shouldn’t be here...for any of this. You’re gonna get hurt..” He sighed, lifting her chin with a bent finger. “You should be in your room, Spark.” He mused gently, using her nickname that he gave her when he first arrived here and began getting to know her. Part of her history in her file was an arson case that was never solved, besides which, he found multiple packs of matches and several lighters in her room thereafter. She admitted to him that she found the flames to be calming and helped her relax as she watched them burn down. She liked the heat they provided. The colors of the flames as the danced and flicked just above her fingertips, licking her skin sometimes, when the match burned its way all the way down to the end she was holding, but she liked that too. It was no question that this girl was strange, but he didn’t believe she was crazy. Her imagination was one to be reckoned with, for sure, but crazy...no, she wasn’t psychotic. She was just...different. “You’re not safe here, don’t you worry about me. This is my job. To keep you safe, alright? You have to let me do that though and get you back to your room---” “NO!” She barked, grabbing his shirt as she spoke but quickly releasing him as she all but fell backwards to the wall behind her. Sinking to the floor, the wolf closed her eyes for a few seconds; seemingly having some kind of breakdown, when really, she was collecting herself so that she could think straight. Opening her eyes again, she stood with ease, sliding back up the wall and put her hair into a ponytail. “People are gonna die tonight...they already have,” she turned her head to point out the darkened pool of blood glistening just outside the door. “I’m not gonna let you be one of ‘em. You’re not dying tonight...not with me here I can help you. You have to let me help you.” It wasn’t a request, nor was it a suggestion. She was adamant on getting him out of this hospital.  She knew a secret way out that wasn’t affected by the lock downs or emergencies like this one.      Her words rang in his ears along with another pair of wild screams. “Please,” she reached her hand out to him again, this time waiting for him to respond. “I know the way out.. please let me take you there, Smokey..” His nickname from her slid easily past her lips and it sent a pang of emotion through his chest. He could see how important it was that she help him, but what she couldn’t see was how important it was that he do something to stop all this madness and restore order to this place. He couldn’t do that alone and he was wondering where the hell the other guards were and that they were doing. But he had to do something...and that something wasn’t to flee. Before he could answer her, a large metal table on squeaky castors came rolling violently into the room, knocking Rick back far enough away from Ash that he couldn’t reach her before Wallace did, the homicidal bullshitter that Rick detested. The man rushed in and grabbed the small woman by the hair, eliciting a hiss and a few choice words from her as he yanked her out into the hallway. Rick called her name in a panic, followed by Wallace’s name in a blaze of rage. He shoved to table off of him and ran out the door, looking in both directions but seeing no sign of either of them. “Dammit!” He knew Wallace was armed and that made him even more dangerous, besides which, he now had what he considered his prized possession in his grip. Rick wasn’t sure which way they had gone, and didn’t want to waste precious time by going the wrong way... until he heard a loud yell from down the hall to the right, of which he was sure was Ash. He knew her voice. Taking no time to think about it, he bolted down the corridor in the direction of scream. The hallway seemed endless as he made his way down to where he hoped he would find them...find her, alive. Much to his surprise, when he finally got there, Ash was holding her side and breathing raggedly, while the much bigger Wallace was laying on the ground with a large kitchen knife sticking out of his chest. Every breath she took was painful and her steps matched ache for ache, but she pulled the blade free from the man’s rib cage and wiped it on his shirt. She turned to see Rick in the doorway, a shocked expression on his face as he looked back and forth between both patients, though relief was prevalent among the dazed confusion to how this tiny spitfire of a woman had taken down a man twice her size. “You believe me yet, Ricky Dicky?” She breathed staggeringly, taking a few wobbly steps forwards. “C’mon..” she repeated for the third time tonight, stumbling past him out into the hallway once again. “I told you...I’m getting you the fuck out of here.” 

     He tried to get her to lay down the entire time she led him deeper into an unknown part of the hospital, when all he wanted was to get her to the infirmary so he could take care of her wounds. She wouldn’t let him see them, but he could tell that they were pretty bad by the looks of her. He hated seeing her like this.. she was usually so hyper and dancing to music nobody could hear but her. He found it charming, in a sense. When they medicated her, it seemed as if the music had stopped. She didn’t dance, she didn’t even talk. She just sat in her room, rocking back and forth or not moving at all, usually just staring at the wall until she fell asleep. He hated that... Rick wasn’t a doctor by any means, but he didn’t think she needed to be medicated, or at least, not as much as they gave to her. Again, he didn’t believe her to be crazy, so medication, though mandated by the state, seemed unnecessary in her case. She wasn’t hysterical, she wasn’t dangerous to herself or others.. she was just a little hyper. She could be painfully frustrating, stubborn, and heavily guarded at times, but when he was alone with her, it was like she was any other person he’d talked to---no, she wasn’t exactly like any other person he’d ever spoken to, she was truly a horse of a different color. But he liked that about her. She saw the world in such a beautiful way... he wondered how she could still believe it was worth saving when the people she believed herself to be helping all these years, turned on her and locked her up to rot away in a mental institution. Yet there she was, trying to help him even though she was wounded and tired and afraid of the dark.It said a lot about her as a person.. and it confirmed his belief that she was not, in fact, crazy at all, and that perhaps she didn’t belong in this place after all.      They reached a small door in a secluded area that Rick had never even been in, truthfully, didn’t even know was there. He was too distracted by the realization of how big and severely unexplored the hospital was, that he hadn’t noticed the lock picking tools she’d pulled out of her pocket. She reached back to hand him the knife to hold for her while she went to work on the padlock keeping the door sealed shut. “How did you--” she merely smirked a bit as she tinkered with the lock. “You’d be amazed at what you can trade for around here with a pack of ciggies or a lock of your hair if they’re into that shit. If you hadn’t noticed, Chief,” she looked over at him, hearing the deciphering click, click she was aiming for and yanked the lock down out of its previous position. “--this place runs kinda like a prison.” Taking the padlock off the latch, she pulled the little door open and crawled inside, motioning for him to follow once again. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me....” he muttered, peering inside the small, tunnel-like space. “Let’s gooo,” she more or less demanded as she reached her open palm back behind her for the knife she gave him earlier. “You got a taser, I’ll be needing that back for me.” He didn’t like the thought of handing a patient of a mental institution a weapon, but then, she wasn’t truly a mental patient. She had continuously kept proving herself to be so much more than met the eye. So he handed her the knife carefully before dropping fully to his knees and continuing their little game of follow the leader into the dingy, narrow crawl space. “You sure you know where y---” once again, she cut him off, though this time, her sentence was in fragments. “Yeah, Smokey...I know..exactly...where we’re heading..” At first he thought it was the dark, tight space that was affecting her speech but then he realized that she couldn’t hold her stab wound in here while crawling on all fours. She was bleeding out, leaving a trail of blood as she went--which he noticed when he set his hand down in something warm and sticky, soon making the realization that it was the woman’s blood seeping from her side. Her other cuts were superficial and stopped bleeding but the stab wound... it was still leaking furiously. “You need stitches, we shouldn’t be in here right now.” “I...am fine, Rick. Just worry about you, alright? You’re the good guy. I’m the psycho so just.. let me get you to safety so you...can keep being..the good guy.” He was going to reply to that--he didn’t like her referring to herself as a psycho--but before he could get a word out, they reached another door, just as small as the first, maybe a bit smaller. Ash tried to open it, but it was jammed. She grunted, in both desperation and pain, before she backed up a bit, brought her good arm back behind her shoulder, and let it fly into the door full force. It didn’t open the door, but it did manage to bust a hole straight through the wood. She scoped around a bit for the handle on the other side, finally she found it and gave a solid tug while simultaneously pushing her shoulder and body weight against it. The door swung open and the wolf all but fell through to the other side. “There,” she pointed at a crack in the floor across the room. He looked to where she was pointing and noticed that it wasn’t just a crack in the floor...it was another door. A hatch in the floor..      Ash moved as quickly as she could over to it, throwing back the small carpet that encapsulated most of the secret door. “This goes to the outside. Follow the tunnel and keep going. You’ll be outside the big fence after the first left turn. I don’t know where right goes.. so don’t go that way.” She unlatched the metal bolt and pulled the heavy door up. Its weight, which normally wouldn’t have been a problem for her, was a bit too much for her to hold while she was weakened from blood loss. It slammed to the floor beside her, pulling her to the ground with it. Rick rushed to her side, making sure she was alright, though obviously she wasn’t...not in this state. “I’m gonna get you out of here..get you to a hospital, a real hospital.” “There’s no time for that.. just go, Rick. Don’t worry about me.” She cracked a smile through her pain, knowing full well that she was probably going to die tonight. She cared about this security guard... he was the only guard, the only person, that ever really bothered to get to know her. And she appreciated that so much.. she liked him, genuinely, he was a good person. And she wished that it wasn’t the last time she would see him... “I’m gonna miss you...Smokey.” He started to argue, to convince her to come with him, but as he did, a different door flung open just as violently as the table was thrown at them earlier. “Shit,” Ash turned back to Rick, murmuring softly, “I always liked you best of all, Chief.” With that, she kissed him quickly but passionately before pushing him further into the hole. She shut the door over him despite his protests, banging on the wooden square above him with his fists, yelling for Ash to open the door. She stepped back, knife in hand and a crazed gleam in her eye. “You always wanted me, Wally. Well come’n get me.” 

[doomedandstoned]

Midnight: Behind the Mask

~A Conversation with Athenar at Psycho Las Vegas~

Interview and Photographs by Stephanie V. Cantu

One of the most fascinating and memorable acts at Psycho Las Vegas last summer was Ohio's MIDNIGHT. After their scorching performance, in which they literally lit up the stage, Stephanie tracked down frontman Athenar for an interview. What follows is the transcript of that interview. Midnight recently dropped the new record Shox of Violence on Hells Headbanger Records. (Editor)

This is Stephanie with Doomed & Stoned, on behalf of Psycho Entertainment, we have here Midnight. Let’s give our unholy welcome…

Welcome, unholy people.

Let’s roll on into the first question. The question on everyone’s mind: Can we expect a new album to be written this football season?

(laughs) Well, there’s probably a couple of albums ahead already. There’s an EP coming out. There’s an album coming out next year. And there’s already work done. So yeah, probably this football season we’ll get some inspiration for you all, so yes. That’s on everyone’s mind.

Who’s your team?

My team? Steelers. Can’t stop steel.

I know when you first started out, your music was intended more on the solo project end. That really comes from the love of creation, you know, that solitude and that genius space that takes one mind to muster up. How has the dynamic changed for you more and more over the years as people have discovered your music?

Nothing has changed as far as the dynamic. Everything is done pretty much exactly as I’ve done it ten years ago. Yeah, you’re right it’s something I do for a hobby, a way to not go completely crazy. So it’s kinda like some people build model airplanes, make garbage music, but yeah. Nothing’s really changed.

I have to keep talking about this dungeon space because when one is doing solo projects... As time has progressed, would you say performing live is something like your forte, something you enjoy doing, or is it more of a duty for your fans?

I always say it’s the last show. I hate it. I always say it. I don’t like pretty much any part of it except the time that you’re playing a gig, but yeah. Leaving home, dealing with other things that kind of get in the way, I don’t like. But the gig itself is always usually something that keeps me entertained.

The crazy feat that you all did today. You set your bass on fire, then crowd surfed all the way to the pool, which seemed like a pretty damn strategic move. Was that an impromptu sort of thing? How did you know that it was going to go right? You know what I mean? You just envisioned it?

Yeah, yeah. If you’re playing at the pool and it’s hot… why not take a dip? I mean, it just seemed to be natural. There’s a way you needed to put the bass out on fire, so you got fire, you got water. There’s elements. There’s air. Fire and water -- make use of em.

The security guards nearly tried pulling you back, but you just jumped into it. Was there ever maybe a thought that ever crossed your mind, or that the people who were carrying you along the way were in sheer terror? Or was everyone completely all for it and you knew it was cool?

You feel it. I mean, I don’t think. Well, there you go again…thinking? I didn’t do that. Thinking was out the window. But it’s all to get people to loosen up, you know? Not just sit there and take life too seriously.

There were many people who said, “I saw a fireball go into the pool from my window! What was that all about?” So it was actually pretty cool to be there and experience that as well.

So tell me where you find the most comfort while both rehearsing and recording. What’s the vibe of your jam space?

Band practices for live things?

I would say both, maybe where you might find your riffage and also where you come together with the guys.

The riffage just can come at any time. Most of the time you come up with something and you’re not even thinking of the guitar thing. You’re just thinking of a vocal line or a chorus. You can make up a whole song without picking up a guitar, but for me, to record the demos, it’s more comfortable in a basement. It feels more so at home, in a basement. Live rehearsal stuff, it’s where we sound the best. Not at the gigs. Playing in the rehearsal space is always best for the band. It’s not live.

There’s something pretty cold and dark and sinister about basements.

Yeah, I think so, too. When you go in, it’s kinda right here. It feels natural.

Moving from the time of handcrafted DIY CD sleeves and really that time in which you’re having to put forth the effort yourself to get your music out to fans for the first time. What is it like now having professionally printed LPs, I mean over the process of years, how is it now for you? I still see the whole DIY spirit, with Midnight’s banner and whatnot.

Like I said, nothing has changed. Nothing’s really changed at all. Hells Headbangers who put out the records, it’s basically a DIY thing. They live half an hour from me, everything kind of goes, “What do you think of this, what do you think of that?” Nothing is run by the big machine at all, it’s just people feeding off each other’s ideas. I wouldn’t want it any other kind of way. I wouldn’t want to just throw together a cover or just print a bunch of hoodies without me knowing. Or make a bunch of girly tank tops. They’re really good at just keeping the intentions there.

Whenever you all make a girly tank top, let me know. Just kidding. (laughs) So what is vocally, speaking of the vocal section, what is your inspiration for this viciousness and this bitter darkness that’s not only in the delivery, but also in your lyrical content? Because like I was saying, the whole underworld vibe, it seems to tap a little further than human suffering and agony. It’s a little further than that.

That’s a pretty deep question for a rock n roll band, but the vocal delivery, I guess, comes from the way I hear natural rawness of Little Richard, David Lee Roth, and Jeff Becerra from Possessed, and Cronos and Lemmy. But it’s just something you feel. Like I was saying before, you gotta get something out. Somebody has to do something with their free time. So it’s just something, if I didn’t do that, I’d probably be doing something really not right in society.

Also too, there’s that very heavy satanic element. Is this something you identify heavily with, something you’ve got to get out?

As a kid, that’s the kind of stuff I was always drawn to. Always the bad guys, the villains, more sinister type things. As far as Satan, that kind of stuff, I really at this point in my life, don’t think there’s some guy with a pitch fork hanging out. It’s more of, do what you feel is right and what you like to do. Live by your own rules.

Hell yeah. So, speaking of evil, the illustrations for your album covers are pretty gory and suggestive. To the average person, can be frightened by. How did you go by selecting your artist and driving forth the whole vibe you wanted to put out.

The cover I like because it’s twisted artwork. Not your standard heavy metal cover or death metal cover, but it’s really kind of, the way it’s drawn is pretty crude. Somewhat perverse, somewhat creepy. A little weird to look at (laughs) the artist did a great job.

Football and beer go hand in hand. With that being said what’s your ale of choice?

(laughs) I don’t drink. I just watch em and pay attention to the statistics. Statistics, that’s fun for me. Sorry I let you down, but I’m not a beer and football person. I’m a football and iced water guy.

What would you say is the best area you guys ever gigged at that was to you, a home away from home?

Japan was great, just because of the record stores. That was really interesting. A completely different culture. Brazil really just felt, people were really genuine and welcoming. Really were hungry for heavy metal still. So that was really cool, I liked that. It was fun.

How is it playing a festival like Psycho Las Vegas?

Good and bad. Playing the stage was good. There’s always a lot of horseshit and BS that goes on playing the Hardly Rock. There’s certain doors you can’t go in, this way, you got to go that way. For someone like me, well what’s the difference of going through that door or that door? Why can’t I just go through there? Something like that is annoying, but if that’s the most annoying thing I have to worry about, then that’s okay.

What was some of your favorite acts on the bill?

Blue Oyster Cult, of course. Arthur Brown, which I didn’t get to see, because of the policies of Hard Rock. We got our tickets and passes and were kind of late when we got in Friday. After the security guard sees that we’re waiting and waiting and finally get em. Okay let’s go see the last song, then says “No, you can’t come in. We don’t let people in the last ten minutes of the show.” And it’s like, we can’t just go in? Also Alice Cooper, we watched Lecherous Gaze, and that was cool. I probably didn’t get to watch as many bands as I should have, but I had to stay in a certain spot to get to a certain place.

Any last words?

I would say something really vulgar and offensive, but you’re too nice and we’re in a nice setting here. (laughs)   Thanks a lot for even considering, taking time out to do an interview, and anybody watching and listening to even give a shit about it.

Follow The Band.

Get Their Music.