(no subject)

[pummelgranite]

WHO: Punk and Hip Hop fans, goths, malcontents, the faithful, skeptics, kids, anyone
WHERE: "Devil's Dance Floor" ballroom in Maurtia Falls
WHEN: Forward dated to evening of October 8th
WHAT: another concert! I'll be putting up a couple of toplevels but feel free to toss in your own
WARNINGS: Less than her last show, but topics of trauma survival, depression, grief, irresponsible substance use likely to come up

Comments

[pummelgranite]

[Persephine, for one, is pleased as punch to be playing in the big leagues with someone who has lived long enough to complete puberty. ]


Oh yeah? What would that be?

[new_world_wotan]

[ From the roughness of his features and the set of his jaw, it is hard to imagine Wednesday as having ever been a teenager. He is old, yes- and has spent most of that time being old. Age is part of his imago.

Not to mention that 'Allfather' would be an awkward title for a young adult.

Wednesday takes a moment to ask the server for a Jack Daniels, neat, before he answers: ]

Make it interesting.

[pummelgranite]

[ She doesn't know yet what her third mass will yield, not that young blood will be spilled on her dance floor, or that a grow ass mass murderer will weep and flee.

But she's nothing at all if not sure of her showmanship. ]


Fucking always.


[ And for the main act's table, the server is back post haste with his whiskey and her gin-and-pomegranate. ]

What were we drinking to again? Freedom from the inevitability?

[new_world_wotan]

[ If Wednesday has divined the events to come, discerns with his Urd-bound eye the coming flow of blood, of power, he says nothing. Instead he chuckles and takes his drink. ]

Very good.

[ He raises the glass, two fingers full of amber liquid, regarding her over its clear circumference. ]

Nothing so fruitless. Rather, we drink to inevitability acting in our interest.

It always pays to be on the right side of fate.

[pummelgranite]

[ His toast gives her pause- she'd taken it almost as a given that fate would be against her. Her shoulders relax a fraction even thinking about it.

She holds up her own tumbler. The juice inside is a striking shade of red, even in the dim light. ]


To inevitability acting in our favor. Cheers.