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| Travelling the 8th Dimension: Fear and Loathing in Grove Ward; Astrid and Co. Explore on Drugs | |
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| Topic Started: Thursday, 30. June 2016, 18:55 (146 Views) | |
| Astrid | Thursday, 30. June 2016, 18:55 Post #1 |
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1st Rate Brujah Terror Childe
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Iceland Foods 35 Wheatfield Way, Fairfield West, Kingston Upon Thames KT1 2NP 12:35AM They wanted authentic, legit Icelandic grub. The real stuff, not the fake stuff. The real stuff is fermented with salt and brine and smells like pneumonia and sweat socks that have been soaking for ages. They were in the mood for something like fermented shark... fermented, salted, and dried for months-- they wanted that. Why? Drugs. Drugs was why. Though they did have a passion for seafood. But age-old Icelandic delicacies? That's all drugs. You would have to be high off your gourd or mentally wandering through the eighth dimension to want salted slices of shark meat soaked in brine and acid and left to dry in a smokehouse for months-- letting the meat get all salted and pickled in acid or fermented whey and encrusted with whatever cheese smelling bacteria. Not that Norwegian delicacies were any better per se... smalahove anyone? They were all culinary daredevils when they were drunk, stoned, high, and floating on whatever... heroin? Astrid was willing to indulge her mates... after all, they were going to indulge her a little later on. Icelandic Foods was not quite what they expected it to be or hoped it was. While looking up places on Google Maps and Bing.com and so on, it was hard to judge a place or know a place that was merely a circle or highlighted dot on a map. They were obviously high too... so very high. They were looking for a delicatessen but found a grocery store that specialized in frozen food imports. Looking all very trendy and suited for more modern tastes and palettes. It was all from Iceland... but not really all that daring or really hardcore. Frozen slabs of lamb meat... big deal. Frozen salmon steaks... whatever... where the hell was the fermented shark meat and pickled eggs and salted sheep brains and herring or mackerel? After coming out all this way for food, it seemed like a bust. They spent a chunk of change to hop busses from their hotel in Hounslow to this place in the middle of Grove Ward in hopes of indulging and all they could find were extensive freezer sections of pre-packaged frozen meals and trendy Icelandic TV dinners.... Now they were leaning outside, against the wall by the entrance... loitering. Four young women in bright spandex, bright spikey hair, hungry for munchies, partially hallucinating and still riding a high and feeling a buzz. "Where next?" Astrid asked. "Sushi," Thea replied. Edited by Astrid, Thursday, 30. June 2016, 18:58.
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| Astrid | Wednesday, 3. August 2016, 15:57 Post #2 |
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1st Rate Brujah Terror Childe
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Sushi... here in Grove Ward? Astrid wasn't feeling it. She wasn't feeling Grove Ward. Sushi? Well if she was going to do sushi, she was going to do the naked woman who would be the table they ate sushi off. That was her idea of sushi. Naked sushi. Like what you would probably find in some high class Tokyo joint in the Ginza district. And the sushi would be as fresh as if it were still swimming and going blub-blub-blub. Nothing in Grove Ward was high class, like Tokyo style, or still swimming and going blub-blub-blub. Grove Ward was like... well... everything she thought she believed was true about what they say about the American ghettos in places like Chicago or Detroit or Washington, D.C. Except not quite... Icelandic Foods wasn't American ghetto... more like supermarket hell. The neighborhood around it? Well it was like industrial park meets slum meets shanty town... meets... meets? "What about meat?" Astrid asked. "Like steak or something?" Never mind the fact that they couldn't afford to go to some steakhouse and have steak dinners. Never mind what the British probably did to their steaks either.... Did they still have Mad Cow disease? They weren't feeling steak. They were fixated on sushi. The more exotic, the better. And they wanted a fancy restaurant-- a real sushi bar, with all the ambiance and hot looking Japanese waitresses... and hot and cold sake... and fucked up Japanese music in the background... and yet they needed fortune cookies. The sushi bar needed to have fortune cookies-- which was a Chinese Take Out thing. In the 8th dimension, this shit was possible-- finding Chinese fortune cookies in a sushi bar in Grove Ward, where sushi is served on a naked, nubile young woman... and sake comes both hot and cold... and the sushi still goes blub-blub-blub.... and the music in the background is weird Japanese shit. Tuna sashimi on the lady's nipples... encircled with mackerel, salmon, and sushi rice. Further down the body, just above her belly button, crab, shrimp, and more mackerel. Pink, reddish-pink, and grey-silver morsels over porcelain white flesh. Astrid blinked and imagined rivulets of blood trickling down the woman's breasts... down her torso... down to the sweet spot. She would lick it all up... lick the woman all up and down her body... taking every last drop of blood upon her tongue. "We'll do sushi... just not here. Somewhere else. Like across town or something," Astrid declared. They ask where. She has no idea. "Pick a direction and we go," she replied. |
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| Astrid | Monday, 22. August 2016, 03:13 Post #3 |
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1st Rate Brujah Terror Childe
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Yo Sushi 1St Floor Bentall Centre, Wood Street, Kingston Upon Thames KT1 1TP 1:15 AM Fuck it. This place looked good enough... too bad it closed like hours and hours ago. So now what? We loiter outside and smoke. We watch cars go by. We look like worthless scum loitering. There's probably closed circuit cameras trained on us. We look like a pack of hoods casing the joint-- and maybe we should case the joint and fuck the place up-- but we are too messed up to entertain the idea. I'm getting Hungry again. Need to make a pit stomp... yeah, pit stomp heh heh heh... need to sink my canines into someone with some meat on their bones and some kick in their life juice. Where's the nearest bar? Are bars still open at 1:00 AM in this part of town? I look around. A place called Bacchus... we walked by it. Should have stopped there ages ago, but we weren't thinking. Or I wasn't thinking. It was still packing people in. Baachus Late Bar and Venue 2 Union St, Kingston upon Thames KT1 1RP 2 Pound cover charge for Techneek? Techno music. Dark, cavernous looking place. Lots of brick. Sound is awful. I'd kill the sound engineer. Too much distortion in such a confined space. He doesn't know jack shit about acoustics. He's probably drunk. If he's sober, that's somehow worse. The guy with the turntable and synthesizers is called "Tech House"? That can't be right. That's his name and his genre? What a fucking waste. Not impressed. I could have this place eating out of my god damn hand right now... you know what? I'm gonna. Presence 1: Awe I waltz into the place and during mid-trance whatever this shit is, I bump his ass out of the way. The girls follow. "Hello boys and girls. We're taking over this joint as of right now. Listen if you got balls. We're Asterisk and we're going to take a little trip." I got the synths and adjust the levels... Maja grabs the drum machine... Thea grabs another keyboard... Sofia? Well she does what Sofia does best... she dances. The sound engineer backs off and just lets us happen. And the ride begins.... no one says jack shit... "Tech House" is looking like he wants to fuck me hard. I give him better than a good fucking... I give him a music lesson. PULSE II -- ASTERISK And eyes turn to watch. They watch me move and play with the synthesizer. They watch me move as I play. And as "Pulse II" fades, I go abruptly right into "Elysium Streets"... so fucking avante garde they don't know what to do with themselves. But they love the trance... they love the trip... they love me. They want me... but of course I am tripping... I am out of my own mind... in the music and out of the whole damn world.... ELYSIUM STREETS -- ASTERISK Bizarre isn't the word... risky is... dangerous is... dangerous because no one in the bar knows what the hell we are about, what we are doing and where we are taking them. They are excited though. They are drawn to us. They are curious... and the more they listen and the more they see... the more they want to understand and know. I make the synths do things "Tech House" never intended or imagined. I make these clods dance... I make puppets out of them. I pull their strings and they are eager to move and undulate and gyrate... and masturbate. CLUBONICA ROBOTICA -- ASTERISK They are mine. They don't know but they are. I look over at Thea and nod. We finish them off with "Spandex"... she makes do with synth bass... Maja nods with what she can do with the drum machine. Sofia goes out in the midst of bodies to scout my feeding prospects. All eyes still on me... as it should be. SPANDEX -- ASTERISK By the time they really get into the groove, I cut it and leave them hanging. We hop off the stage and Sofia waves me over somewhere in the throng... I walk into it, plenty of eyes watching. I wrap my arms around Sofia's pick of the night... she practically shivers in my arms... but she wants me. Everyone wants to be near the one who stole the show.... "Techno House" takes his stage back... but he knows he was just owned. |
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| Astrid | Monday, 29. August 2016, 20:24 Post #4 |
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1st Rate Brujah Terror Childe
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I suppose technically that was our UK debut... a four song set... from a show we hijacked from a house DJ with some keyboards, a turntable, a drum machine, and a dimly lit stage. The audience didn't complain-- they got educated and entertained at the same time. Might have even packed in a few more people from the streets. Given what we had to work with and what we were on and swimming in, we went off well. Had we our own gear and instruments, we might have tore the place a new one to the 8th dimension. The club owner couldn't complain, but did. We didn't stay long. I got in a few gulp-gulps of Meloko Plus in from the blonde Sofia picked out for me. Then we had to leave... or we were strongly encouraged to leave. I wasn't in the mood for violence. I was in the mood to continue to ride the wave I was on. I was feeling nice and toasty warm inside on "Blondie's" Moloko Plus.... We all had some drinks in us and were pretty buzzed at the the high of performing and literally stealing a show. We didn't plan on it. It just sort of happened. It should have happened and it did. I wasn't just going to sit there and let this guy drone on and on and on with same metronome beat performing musical masturbation with his forefinger and index finger over the same two keys all day.... what were they, F and F-sharp? The hell kind of music is that? New Wave avant-garde shit? No one has time for that. It's like music for French mimes or something. I look over my crew. They got a second or third wind in them. It is only 2:30... still time for one last adventure before we hop the ride to Twilight. But where to? Grove Ward is like the undiscovered country. The final frontier. Probably the heart of darkness too. We decide we want to climb the highest place in the Ward... we want to go up to the tallest spot in the tallest building. We want to look over the ward... we want to see it from on high... while we're high.... What will the world look like from the highest point? Will people look like ants to be squished? If we tossed a kroner over, would it fall like a speeding bullet and pierce a guy's skull? We all heard the story about what would happen if someone dropped a penny off the Empire State Building in New York City... they say it would be like shooting a bullet point blank into a guy's skull by the time it landed. Terminal velocity... I like the sound of that. Might be a good name for a song. Where is the tallest building in Grove Ward? But why not look for the tallest building in all of London? Big Ben maybe? Hmm... where would we find the tallest building in Grove Ward? |
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1:24 AM Jul 11