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maskormenacelogs2017-01-09 01:16 am
sincendiary) wrote in maskormenacelogs2017-01-09 01:16 am
DON'T YOU EVER TAME YOUR DEMON;
WHO: Lucifer, Inanna, Count Dooku and YOU, sinners
WHERE: Church of the Morningstar, Miami
WHEN: backdated to January 6th, The Epiphany
WHAT: SATAN'S BIG DEBUT
WARNINGS: SATAN'S BIG DEBUT (possibly sex, probably drugs, definitely blasphemy, will add more as needed)
A: ENTRANCE
[ The Church of the Morningstar does in fact shine like its own guiding light once evening sets in, signalling the way forward to anyone who seeks it out and possibly luring some curious passers-by. Either way, come on in and stay awhile. The entry doors are wide open, inviting as the sign.
Arrivals find themselves greeted by a wide main hall bathed in white, almost unnatural if not for the red-clothed tables neatly lined with appetizers and refreshments to help themselves on. The biggest treat appears to be, what else, a layered devil's food cake cut in the shape of a five-pointed star. If anyone remembers Inanna's sponsorship with frozen bananas: they've come all the way here, too. There is no escape.
There's also room for plenty of conversation as everybody makes their way into the main church area. Pews have been moved aside for more standing room, but plenty of the surroundings could fool someone into believing this is still a Christian house of worship—at least until they notice the cross centerpiece has been inverted. It's all a work in progress. ]
B: COUNTDOWN PERFORMS
[ The sound of thunder booms from speakers, rumbling as though far off in the distance. Fog billows across the stage, thick and heavy, wisps drifting across the faces of the foremost audience members. Flashes of electric light simulate lightning.
From within the tumult, a deep, resonant voice booms: "People of Earth. The Porter has brought me to your planet for but a single purpose: to shatter your minds! Now, feel the full power of COUNTDOWN!"
How do you compensate for the fact that your band's frontman has no singing experience, no particular interest in music-making, and (secretly) has his songs ghostwritten to advance a political agenda? Theatrics. Countdown has always been about leveraging Count Dooku's imPort celebrity status and courting controversy as much as about the actual music, and tonight's performance is no exception.
Count Dooku strides out of the fog to the cheers of the cloud, cape slowing behind him. He spreads his hands, and just like that the cloud clears as though blown away by an invisible wind (also known as Dark Side telekinesis). His bandmates are revealed behind him, poised at their instruments, and they immediately launch into their set, focusing on the most popular singles from Countdown's politically-charged debut album. Songs like 'Chains of 1984', 'Betrayal at Death Island,' and 'Families Dreaming of Atomic Flame,' are about as subtle as they sound, trumpeting imPort heroism and condemning government corruption through Dooku's deep, unmistakable vocals.
From time to time Dooku picks out one lucky member of the audience, and levitate them into the air with a gesture his hand for an imPort-aided crowd-surf. Maybe that member is you! He can also be found backstage after the show, signing autographs for fans and fellow imPorts alike. ]
C: THE PAGEANT
[Once Dooku's band has cleared off the stage, the lights dim to a near pitch black in preparation for the next act. They don't come back up, exactly. Instead a spray of stardust spreads out overhead, settling slowly into vague suggestions of constellations. It's just bright enough to illuminate the stage below where a pair of figures have come to stand. One, a lucky native man dressed in white and dark brown robes, and the other figure dressed in soft blues, their face hidden by a headdress and veil.]
And now, a very special show for you all—the story of the Virgin Mary. [The figure in blue steps forward, head bowed and hands folded gracefully.] Full of grace, purity, and— [They reach up to rip the veil away to reveal Inanna sporting a sharp and playful smirk.] so much more.
["Mary" strides across the stage to caress the face of their co-star—Joseph, presumably? The pair of them fall into step together, moving across the stage in a dance that, at least initially, is really quite modest. As the display continues, however, Inanna presses in a little closer and steals touches here and there that linger a little too long] She didn't just stay a virgin—that's just a title she couldn't shake. Jesus had quite a few brothers and sisters.
["Mary" shoots a rather alluring look over "Joseph's" shoulder at the audience and steps back to rip the sleeves of their robe off. The pair move into another dance, this time with "Mary" taking a rather decisive lead. They guide and pull their partner around the stage, taking him to his knees once or twice in a commanding pose while the voice over continues. There is a sudden change in narrators, though--Lucifer has joined them in a scant parody of priestly garb, proudly perched on the inverted cross's horizontal beam from pretty convincingly out of nowhere. ]
No, this Mother of Families wasn't satisfied with raising up one child and disappearing. Who else but the Seat of Wisdom was better suited to take charge from her new throne? When she stared darkness in the face, wasn't it Your Lady of Sorrows pierced in that immaculate heart seven times over? Take it from a more down-to-earth Morning Star of many names, perhaps you've heard of them. The churches can cling to it all they like, but simple little platitudes like purity and grace do not a Queen of Heaven make. Nobody so one-dimensional can spark a beginning or carry the story, and, well...
[ As she pauses for effect and a smirk towards "Mary", the two approach her, just draping around each arm like they belong there all along. But it seems one of them is wrong, because Luci turns the brown-robed man's head away and shares an exaggeratedly unimpressed look with the audience. ]
That's why you won't hear anyone talking about Joseph.
[The stars above all blink out at once, plunging the church back into darkness.]
They’ve come for the Theophany. Shall we?
D: LUCIFER PERFORMS
[ It's silent now. Coupled with the pitch dark it could begin to feel uncomfortable, and there are no signs of it lifting. Just you and this void. Then someone in the crowd coughs or mutters. Doesn't matter which, the voice cuts clean through the first hint of other noise. Right along with it a white-hot spotlight—shining up from the floor?—illuminates Lucifer and only Lucifer, back in her suit. For a short while she is the single source of light, which is as long as it takes for the hypnotic sensation of watching a small fire too long. You just might miss the candles slowly sparking around her stage unless you're unaffected by her song.
It's a soulful, bitter cry of being cast out alone to the edges. It dares to question why, answering itself in the same breath: This is your design, created to fly too close and to fall hard. You were damned from the start, you will be condemned with every inch you crawl in this world. They want to crush your head beneath their feet.
But if they do, you'll be there to bite their heel. Every time the depths of her voice get close to repenting, they mock the idea to the sound of gospel. Without warning you could swear there's an intense burst of that same white light from the stained glass window, that a whole invisible choir somehow rings out behind her, then everything dims just as quickly. It still doesn't quite go out. As long as something burns inside you, you'll never go out. Not like this.
There's barely time to breathe. The stage is completely lit in warm pinks and reds instead, and the candles' flames dance higher. Where Lucifer's voice sang out in raging desperation before, now it shamelessly revels in consuming all it can while her body seems helpless to it, leaping and striding around like a live wire. Even for people a little less reached by the song, it's one heavy sample of blues rock in tongues. She's still hard to look away from for a second and each reaction only seems to fuel her energy more, leave you wanting more of everything. It's intoxicating and wrong, surely this is wrong, but didn't they say you were never right? Let them take you down if they can. If this is Hell, you may never want to serve in Heaven again.
But who is really ruling it? The more you drink in of this the faster any barriers burn away—in one perverse moment, it almost looks like you up there. Like you are the devil, you are the god, baring yourself for all the world to see. If only right now, you could be immortal.
And just like that, when the fever pitch climbs so high in such a frenzy you'd think the entire building might go up in smoke, she does. With a puff of ash, Lucifer has (apparently) left the building. Great effects, aren't they? Security will just be here, helping the last of any fainters or people hyperventilating. ]
E: AFTERMATH
[ What now? If you're left with energy to burn or feel up to it after recovering, there's a dance party going down out front with steam clouds for that classic inferno feel. Inanna will be your DJ every now and then, but they can't just not hit the floor, letting a local talent take over in the meantime! This is also seaside property, so if you're more into long walks on the beach, you're in luck. Drinks are on the house tonight and so are the drivers, remember to use them.
For anybody craving more adventurous vices... the private apartment rooms are upstairs, and several drugs of choice are on tap if you ask the right people. Knock yourselves out, kids. Except if you're legally kids you'll get turned right around by staff, even the devil's house has its standards. ]
WHERE: Church of the Morningstar, Miami
WHEN: backdated to January 6th, The Epiphany
WHAT: SATAN'S BIG DEBUT
WARNINGS: SATAN'S BIG DEBUT (possibly sex, probably drugs, definitely blasphemy, will add more as needed)
A: ENTRANCE
[ The Church of the Morningstar does in fact shine like its own guiding light once evening sets in, signalling the way forward to anyone who seeks it out and possibly luring some curious passers-by. Either way, come on in and stay awhile. The entry doors are wide open, inviting as the sign.
Arrivals find themselves greeted by a wide main hall bathed in white, almost unnatural if not for the red-clothed tables neatly lined with appetizers and refreshments to help themselves on. The biggest treat appears to be, what else, a layered devil's food cake cut in the shape of a five-pointed star. If anyone remembers Inanna's sponsorship with frozen bananas: they've come all the way here, too. There is no escape.
There's also room for plenty of conversation as everybody makes their way into the main church area. Pews have been moved aside for more standing room, but plenty of the surroundings could fool someone into believing this is still a Christian house of worship—at least until they notice the cross centerpiece has been inverted. It's all a work in progress. ]
B: COUNTDOWN PERFORMS
[ The sound of thunder booms from speakers, rumbling as though far off in the distance. Fog billows across the stage, thick and heavy, wisps drifting across the faces of the foremost audience members. Flashes of electric light simulate lightning.
From within the tumult, a deep, resonant voice booms: "People of Earth. The Porter has brought me to your planet for but a single purpose: to shatter your minds! Now, feel the full power of COUNTDOWN!"
How do you compensate for the fact that your band's frontman has no singing experience, no particular interest in music-making, and (secretly) has his songs ghostwritten to advance a political agenda? Theatrics. Countdown has always been about leveraging Count Dooku's imPort celebrity status and courting controversy as much as about the actual music, and tonight's performance is no exception.
Count Dooku strides out of the fog to the cheers of the cloud, cape slowing behind him. He spreads his hands, and just like that the cloud clears as though blown away by an invisible wind (also known as Dark Side telekinesis). His bandmates are revealed behind him, poised at their instruments, and they immediately launch into their set, focusing on the most popular singles from Countdown's politically-charged debut album. Songs like 'Chains of 1984', 'Betrayal at Death Island,' and 'Families Dreaming of Atomic Flame,' are about as subtle as they sound, trumpeting imPort heroism and condemning government corruption through Dooku's deep, unmistakable vocals.
From time to time Dooku picks out one lucky member of the audience, and levitate them into the air with a gesture his hand for an imPort-aided crowd-surf. Maybe that member is you! He can also be found backstage after the show, signing autographs for fans and fellow imPorts alike. ]
C: THE PAGEANT
[Once Dooku's band has cleared off the stage, the lights dim to a near pitch black in preparation for the next act. They don't come back up, exactly. Instead a spray of stardust spreads out overhead, settling slowly into vague suggestions of constellations. It's just bright enough to illuminate the stage below where a pair of figures have come to stand. One, a lucky native man dressed in white and dark brown robes, and the other figure dressed in soft blues, their face hidden by a headdress and veil.]
And now, a very special show for you all—the story of the Virgin Mary. [The figure in blue steps forward, head bowed and hands folded gracefully.] Full of grace, purity, and— [They reach up to rip the veil away to reveal Inanna sporting a sharp and playful smirk.] so much more.
["Mary" strides across the stage to caress the face of their co-star—Joseph, presumably? The pair of them fall into step together, moving across the stage in a dance that, at least initially, is really quite modest. As the display continues, however, Inanna presses in a little closer and steals touches here and there that linger a little too long] She didn't just stay a virgin—that's just a title she couldn't shake. Jesus had quite a few brothers and sisters.
["Mary" shoots a rather alluring look over "Joseph's" shoulder at the audience and steps back to rip the sleeves of their robe off. The pair move into another dance, this time with "Mary" taking a rather decisive lead. They guide and pull their partner around the stage, taking him to his knees once or twice in a commanding pose while the voice over continues. There is a sudden change in narrators, though--Lucifer has joined them in a scant parody of priestly garb, proudly perched on the inverted cross's horizontal beam from pretty convincingly out of nowhere. ]
No, this Mother of Families wasn't satisfied with raising up one child and disappearing. Who else but the Seat of Wisdom was better suited to take charge from her new throne? When she stared darkness in the face, wasn't it Your Lady of Sorrows pierced in that immaculate heart seven times over? Take it from a more down-to-earth Morning Star of many names, perhaps you've heard of them. The churches can cling to it all they like, but simple little platitudes like purity and grace do not a Queen of Heaven make. Nobody so one-dimensional can spark a beginning or carry the story, and, well...
[ As she pauses for effect and a smirk towards "Mary", the two approach her, just draping around each arm like they belong there all along. But it seems one of them is wrong, because Luci turns the brown-robed man's head away and shares an exaggeratedly unimpressed look with the audience. ]
That's why you won't hear anyone talking about Joseph.
[The stars above all blink out at once, plunging the church back into darkness.]
They’ve come for the Theophany. Shall we?
D: LUCIFER PERFORMS
[ It's silent now. Coupled with the pitch dark it could begin to feel uncomfortable, and there are no signs of it lifting. Just you and this void. Then someone in the crowd coughs or mutters. Doesn't matter which, the voice cuts clean through the first hint of other noise. Right along with it a white-hot spotlight—shining up from the floor?—illuminates Lucifer and only Lucifer, back in her suit. For a short while she is the single source of light, which is as long as it takes for the hypnotic sensation of watching a small fire too long. You just might miss the candles slowly sparking around her stage unless you're unaffected by her song.
It's a soulful, bitter cry of being cast out alone to the edges. It dares to question why, answering itself in the same breath: This is your design, created to fly too close and to fall hard. You were damned from the start, you will be condemned with every inch you crawl in this world. They want to crush your head beneath their feet.
But if they do, you'll be there to bite their heel. Every time the depths of her voice get close to repenting, they mock the idea to the sound of gospel. Without warning you could swear there's an intense burst of that same white light from the stained glass window, that a whole invisible choir somehow rings out behind her, then everything dims just as quickly. It still doesn't quite go out. As long as something burns inside you, you'll never go out. Not like this.
There's barely time to breathe. The stage is completely lit in warm pinks and reds instead, and the candles' flames dance higher. Where Lucifer's voice sang out in raging desperation before, now it shamelessly revels in consuming all it can while her body seems helpless to it, leaping and striding around like a live wire. Even for people a little less reached by the song, it's one heavy sample of blues rock in tongues. She's still hard to look away from for a second and each reaction only seems to fuel her energy more, leave you wanting more of everything. It's intoxicating and wrong, surely this is wrong, but didn't they say you were never right? Let them take you down if they can. If this is Hell, you may never want to serve in Heaven again.
But who is really ruling it? The more you drink in of this the faster any barriers burn away—in one perverse moment, it almost looks like you up there. Like you are the devil, you are the god, baring yourself for all the world to see. If only right now, you could be immortal.
And just like that, when the fever pitch climbs so high in such a frenzy you'd think the entire building might go up in smoke, she does. With a puff of ash, Lucifer has (apparently) left the building. Great effects, aren't they? Security will just be here, helping the last of any fainters or people hyperventilating. ]
E: AFTERMATH
[ What now? If you're left with energy to burn or feel up to it after recovering, there's a dance party going down out front with steam clouds for that classic inferno feel. Inanna will be your DJ every now and then, but they can't just not hit the floor, letting a local talent take over in the meantime! This is also seaside property, so if you're more into long walks on the beach, you're in luck. Drinks are on the house tonight and so are the drivers, remember to use them.
For anybody craving more adventurous vices... the private apartment rooms are upstairs, and several drugs of choice are on tap if you ask the right people. Knock yourselves out, kids. Except if you're legally kids you'll get turned right around by staff, even the devil's house has its standards. ]