[When the Crowd Goes Home] New York: First stop
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: MechanicalImpulses on 05-02-2007, 04:07:59</h2>
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				Title: <strong>[When the Crowd Goes Home] New York: First stop</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MechanicalImpulses</strong> on <strong>05-02-2007, 04:07:59</strong>
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				The music came to a crashing halt,&nbsp; and the screams of the crowd roared out over the stage.&nbsp; Smashing against the band like a wave of energy.&nbsp; “MORE! MORE!” The youth of New York screamed as they thrust themselves against the stage trying to make contact with the members of Dionysian tendencies.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>These young men and women lived through the group for just one night,&nbsp; living in some fantastic world where anything was possible.&nbsp; For a few moments the only things that mattered was emotion…&nbsp; lust, rage,&nbsp; dissatisfaction…&nbsp; but tomorrow they would return to their own lives,&nbsp; and keep the memory of the band somewhere in the back of their minds, that is until came back on their next tour.&nbsp; <br><br>Murmur stood with his arms outstretched his face covered in a fine layer of make up,&nbsp; accentuating his high cheek bones and alien features.&nbsp; He was clad in a pair of tight white vinyl pants,&nbsp; that glimmered whenever the lights shined upon them.&nbsp; A pair of platform white bondage boots,&nbsp; and a white vinyl bondage harness.&nbsp; He bowed low his long hair nearly sweeping the floor,&nbsp; and when he came to his feet once more he smiled.&nbsp; “Thank you for coming…”&nbsp; His voice was still hauntingly ethereal even without the music behind it.&nbsp; “We love you all…”<br><br>He turned on his heels and headed off stage…<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: New York: First stop in the american tour.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cherri Tart</strong> on <strong>05-02-2007, 08:42:34</strong>
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				Pandora didn't bother to wait.&nbsp; She could care less what the crowd thought.&nbsp; Most of them were too drunk or too stoned or just plain too stupid to appreciate what they'd just heard.&nbsp; Besides, she didn't need their validation for what had just happened here on stage.&nbsp; It had been beautiful, terrifyingly beautiful, an imperfect masterpiece.&nbsp; And now, the last chord had rung, signaling an end to the night.&nbsp; To everyone else, it was merely a stage, but to her... this was an alter.&nbsp; Tossing her black and silver Les Paul to her guitar tech, she strode off stage.&nbsp; <br><br>Skin tight metallic blue trousers tucked into silver go go boots hugged her long legs and a matching vest hugged her frame, pushing her breasts up.&nbsp; She wore her hair, blonde streaked with pink and blue, glitter flashing beneath the lights, piled up on top of her head.&nbsp; Dark eye shadow, blue lipstick, a small red star on one cheek, graced a face that rarely held more then a hint of a smile.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>She never stayed on stage longer then necessary.&nbsp; Let Murmer and the others take the credit.&nbsp; She could care less.&nbsp; She knew when she'd pushed herself to her limits, reached beyond herself to touch something... something powerful, something spiritual, something... she had no word for it, but they'd come close to reaching it tonight.&nbsp; They always came so close, yet never quiet achieved it.&nbsp; It left her feeling exhilerated, yet frustrated that it had eluded her grasp once more.<br><br>She spared a quick glance back to the stage, towards Murmer.&nbsp; Somehow it had all come together with him... Not that the others weren't brilliant, but he seemed to pull something out of them that they weren't quite capable of on their own.&nbsp; Let him bask in the idolation... he deserved it.&nbsp; She's already gotten what she needed.<br><br>She passed through the dressing room, pausing long enough to put on her sunglasses, their lenses reflecting silver, hiding her eyes.&nbsp; She felt restless, wanting to be gone from here.&nbsp; &nbsp;Pacing back and forth, she waited for the others to join her.&nbsp; Impatient, she popped a pill into her mouth, washing it down with water from a half empty bottle.&nbsp; It was the only way she knew to sustain the high that was already beginning to ebb.&nbsp; 
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				Title: <strong>Re: New York: First stop in the american tour.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Apple of Eris</strong> on <strong>05-02-2007, 20:07:41</strong>
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				Rena clung to her P-Bass until the last vibration of the strings died down and the spotlights that had been lighting her an the rest of the backing band dimmed, leving Murmur alone in the spotlight. She unslung the guitar and laid it on its stand where one of the crew would collect it shortly. She watched Murmur bow towards the fans, watched their adulation of him. The men, they wanted to be him, while the women wanted him, and for a short time tonight, everyone had been in love with him. The entire crowd in this place had lost itself in their music, in his voice. That was what she loved. She looked down briefly at her costume, red leather mini-skirt and a matching crop top that barely covered her smallish breasts. Her blonde hair was wild with too much product carefully added for just the right effect and glitter shone in the red and white mask painted around her eyes. She didn't care about the costume or Murmur's act, insisting he was a demon, none of that mattered. What mattered was the music, the pure emotion of it that infected every person here tonight, including herself. <br><br>Her eyes turned from Murmur as he departed the stage, and she reached into a pocket carefully added to her skirtand pulle dout a handful of bass picks. She wasn't a pick bassist normally, she'd leave that to paul mccartney and his ilk, but on a few of Dionysian's songs, picking the strings just sounded better to her, maybe no one else noticed, it might have been too subtle, but to her, obsessed as she was with perfection and proving herself, every little thing mattered. She smiled as she tossed the picks out to the crowd then made her own way off stage. <br><br>She hurried back to the dressing room, stopping to sign an autograph for one young, excited, girl who had snuck past security, only to have a security guard grab onto her just as Renas handed her back the picture and marker with her name scribbled on it in permanent colors. Inside the room she pulled out the earplugs she wore religiously when on stage and reached for one of the bottles of beer she kept at the shows. She nodded to Pandora as she twisted off the cap and took a deep drink of the liquid. "Good show tonight," she commented. "I think the sound was great... at least the fans thought so anyway."
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				Title: <strong>Re: New York: First stop in the american tour.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>NightBird</strong> on <strong>10-02-2007, 05:22:29</strong>
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				Storm's fist shot up as the last notes faded, her face a mask of exaltation. There was no sensation in the universe like this, the physically palpable adulation from a crowd when the glare of the stage lights made it impossible to distinguish individuals out there in the seats. It was magical, divine, some kind of esoteric bargain for what was given and received. A shiver claimed her when the lights on the girls dimmed, her hand dropping back to her side as she bowed behind her keyboard, off to the side and behind Murmur, still illuminated for a few more moments. Somehow, she couldn't believe that any performance of Mozart could ever have been as visceral or as real as what the band did, and what the crowd gave them back for it. If only it lasted. If only there was a way to bottle it and save it for the bad days when a song just wasn't shaping up, or they were all in foul moods from too many hours in the tour bus. At least it was a larger bus, now.<br><br>She waved and blew kisses as she left the stage with the others, smiling slightly at the elated girl with her signed photo. Once the adrenaline was gone, her feet were going to hurt, but she loved this outfit, like some twisted ballerina, black and red corset, a short, black, gauzy skirt and 5" heels with black ribbon ties that went up to her knees. Her hair was teased and glittered, her lips blood-red, and a crystal teardrop glued to her cheek within the painted tear on her left cheek. A red ribbon, like a guillotine wound, was her only necklace, but she had huge earrings in silver, jet and deep red. Half a glass of sports drink made a good mixer with vodka after a show, and she made herself one of these 'powered screwdrivers' before collapsing on the couch.<br><br>One big swallow down, she nodded and grinned at Rena. "I thought the second set flowed pretty damned sweet."
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