Post by The Evil Biscuit on Jul 16, 2012 0:22:31 GMT -5
Therefore I think and judge it for thy best
Thou follow me, and I will be thy guide,
And lead thee hence through the eternal place,
Where thou shalt hear the desperate lamentations,
Shalt see the ancient spirits disconsolate...
-- Dante Alighieri, Inferno
Extinguish the light of the heavens above,
The age of all darkness has come,
Issuing forth from the great mouth of Hell,
All hail Pandemonium!
-- ALIGHIERI, Pandemonium
[/font][/size][/center]Thou follow me, and I will be thy guide,
And lead thee hence through the eternal place,
Where thou shalt hear the desperate lamentations,
Shalt see the ancient spirits disconsolate...
-- Dante Alighieri, Inferno
Extinguish the light of the heavens above,
The age of all darkness has come,
Issuing forth from the great mouth of Hell,
All hail Pandemonium!
-- ALIGHIERI, Pandemonium
"Big night tonight."
He'd been mumbling it to himself all day. The final night of the Darkwood Festival, the biggest hard rock music event on the Archipelago, and ALIGHIERI was opening up for Devil's Own. Devil's Fucking Own. They'd nearly fainted when he broke the news a week ago. Not just opening, though. Selected. Snake and Bloody Bill had hand-picked them as their opening act after hearing "Blood Moon" on Winstone's KROK radio. Pepijn actually had fainted at that mention. Talent scouts would be out in full force for this show. Devil's Own.. It was surreal.
It was also, Ludo Bergan thought to himself this time, in Winstone City. The Archipelago was not a large place, no, but the last leg of ALIGHIERI's summer tour ended in Fuchsia City, and that meant they'd be driving straight from that gig to Winstone if they were going to make their 6:00 load-in. Bergan checked his watch. 3:51. The sun was still high in the sky, and the last mile sign had shown Winstone to be 93 miles away. He let his foot ease of the gas pedal a little and felt the old Club Wagon settle into a reasonable speed. They'd make time with a few minutes to spare. "That's why you're the manager, man. You always get us where we're going." Ellis had said that, once. Ludo glanced over at the passenger's seat where Ellis sat - or rather, slouched - snoring loudly, along with the rest of the band, crammed into the back seats among the many road cases, drum boxes, and duffel bags. All of them immensely talented young individuals. And him, the fat Eastern European with too much body hair and bad taste in silk shirts who managed them, drove them around, bought them dinner, collected their pay. Hard work, every day, but he enjoyed it.
"Get some sleep, guys." Ludo murmured, again to himself, "Big night tonight."
Big night, indeed.
ALIGHIERI
CANTO I
CANTO I
Night fell early on Winstone, but Ludo had the sweeping searchlights of the Darkwood concerts to guide him through the congested streets to the service gates. He presented credentials, collected band passes, and affixed the large neon parking sticker to the dash before driving through to the loading bays.
The Darkwood Festival was four days and nights of sheer mayhem in Winstone - the largest event of its kind, it drew thousands of people from across the Archipelago to hear the biggest names in hard rock and heavy metal on three main stages and multiple side stages. Set just outside the city in the Mulcahy Quarry, it was a labyrinth of scaffolding, stage rigging, black drop sheeting and speakers, chaotically managed by hundreds of scampering men in black tees and shorts, each with more tattoos and a longer ponytail than the last. Thick black cables ran like languishing pythons beneath everything. Ludo negotiated the Club Wagon over a metal riser that served as a guard for several lengths of the cables, sprawled out over the dusty gravel and extending from stage to stage across the backstage lots. More men in black clothes waved glowsticks at Ludo, directing him into a microscopic parking spot where even more men in black clothes began assembling dollies and porter carts to transport gear. One of them rushed up to the window and rapped hard on the glass. Bergan rolled it down.
"You Allegory?!"
"Alighieri."
"Whatever. You're late, load-in was at 5:00."
"The fuck? My itinerary says -"
"Doesn't matter. Park it and wake 'em up, we gotta go. You're on at seven."
Ludo's eyes popped. "SEVEN?! We're opening for Devil's Own! We don't go on until nine!" The black shirt shook his ponytail. "Incorrect. Body Snatcher opens for Devil's Own. You're opening for Body Snatcher."
Bergan's face collapsed. Body Snatcher?! Those two-bit chumps played with backing tracks. How in the blue fuck did they just lose their opening slot to Body Snatcher? "You're shittin' me."
"Shit you not, buddy. Park it, we're gonna load-in for you. Wake your sleeping beauties, they're gonna sound check in twenty minutes."
Bergan inched in and threw the Wagon in park with a frustrated slap. He buried his head in his hands. How in the hell did this happen? With a heavy sigh, he killed the engine and looked back at the rest of the band.
"Rise and shine, kiddos. Hope you had good dreams, because we just drove into a goddamn nightmare. We lost our opening slot to Body Snatcher, and you're soundchecking in twenty minutes."
It begins! I'm really excited about this story, and I think you guys are going to enjoy it as well. Go ahead and get your introductory posts in here and we'll proceed to soundcheck and get the ball rolling on all this madness.