If you want the informal (read: long-winded, rambling, emotional, and full of swearing) version, check here. Otherwise, read on.
On Saturday night I went to the Dresden Dolls’ show in Wellington, aware that it was going to be a fantastic night, but not quite aware of just how fantastic.
Amanda Palmer and Brian Viglione put on the best and longest show I have ever seen, no exceptions. The setlist really was perfect. The few songs I would like to have heard don’t matter in comparison.
The night was perfect already when Amanda needed a bathroom break. She asked for someone to play while she was gone. I put my hand up. She pulled me on stage. I played the intro to Half Jack for a good few minutes with Brian while she was gone, and it was a spiritual experience. She came back and joined in, and it was fantastic.
Saturday night was the best night of my life so far. Amanda, Brian, thank you, so very much. You guys are brilliant. Thank you.
So, I’ve been talking with the other half of Dyaltov, Sam, and there’ll be a song or two up on Soundcloud next week. At the very least, our cover of Skinny Love will be up, and, if I may say so myself, it’s really fucking good.
Also, Dyaltov’s first EP (played by Sam, recorded by myself) might make an appearance sometime soon. Seriously, keep an eye out for that, because it really is astounding.
A loud, booming siren rang through the air. “What the fuck is that?” Ash yelled over the noise. “Ferry?” Regan suggested. The other people on the street looked just as confused. Cops were rushing down Queen Street towards the source of the sound. “Hey, what’s going on?” Regan asked one. “No idea! Everything’s fine!” the officer yelled over his shoulder, not breaking his stride. “How can he say that when he doesn’t even know what’s going on? What an ass,” said Ash. “You want to go see what it is?” Regan asked. “Sure, why not?”
Plenty of others had the same idea. Crowds of confused people were moving towards the waterfront; quickly at first, but slowing down as more and more people joined. Eventually, Regan and Ash could faintly make out someone yelling over a loudspeaker, straining to be heard over the crowd.
“Can you hear what they’re saying?” Ash asked. “Not really; something about an evacuation,” Regan replied. “Oh, shit, maybe it’s the volcanoes!” Ash yelped. “Dude, seriously? Okay, if the volcanoes were about to go off, we’d have felt it.” “Not necessarily! “ Ash protested. “They’d need a quake to set them off, wouldn’t they?” Regan asked. “Not if it’s just pressure building up inside the cones themselves. Then the quakes would be an aftereffect,” Ash explained. “It’s not the volcanoes,” someone standing close by told them. “They’re saying something about a contagion? Some infection or something. Probably the flu again.” “Why would they call an evacuation for the flu?” Ash questioned. “Well, look how worked up everyone got about swine flu. And bird flu before that. Influenza seems to be getting worse and worse each year. Maybe this is a new strain,” Regan suggested. “Ah, maybe. You wanna get out of here, then?” Ash asked. “Yeah, might as well,” Regan replied.
The two pushed their way out of the crowd and headed towards the train station. They were stopped in their tracks by another crowd, larger than the one at the waterfront, all trying to get inside at once.
“Dude, there’s no way we’re getting in there, let alone getting a train home,” said Ash. “Bus?” Regan suggested. “Roads will be packed. Shit. What now?” “We walk, I guess. It shouldn’t really take that long.” “What about your leg?” Ash asked. “We don’t really have any other choice, really.” “Fair enough. Let’s get, then.”
They started to push their way up Queen Street, working against the flow of the crowd. There were a few others who seemed to be thinking along the same lines; choosing to walk to wherever they wanted to get to, rather than get stuck on public transport.
“Whoa, what the fuck?!” Regan yelled, pointing. There was a guy sitting on the ground, easily recognisable as one of the homeless that regularly lined Queen Street. He was bleeding profusely from a wound on his lower arm. “What the shit happened to him?” Ash wondered aloud. “Dunno, but we should get out of here before shit turns nasty.” “Agreed,” Ash said heartily.
The further they got up Queen Street, the easier it was to walk. The crowds thinned, though they could hear yelling and screaming coming from behind them. “Guess people are getting crushed or something,” Ash suggested. “Thank fuck we got out of there.” “Yeah,” agreed Regan. There seemed to be more injured people on the streets; and not just homeless now. People slumped against walls and storefronts, bleeding from various gashes. “How the hell did they get those?” Regan asked, nearly yelling, both of them walking as fast as they could. “I don’t know! They don’t look like cuts from glass or anything, that’s for sure,” said Ash, confused. “Should we stop and help or something?” “Dude, no! If we’re being told to get the hell out of here, we should. Let the cops deal with it,” Regan insisted, keeping his pace up. “Ah, fair enough, I guess,” Ash followed along, unsure.
As they passed Aotea Square, they saw a group of people crowded together, yelling. “Hey, maybe they know what’s going on here! We should go see what they’re yelling about,” Ash suggested. “No, man! We need to get back to New Lynn. Get out of town. Do what they’re suggesting. They’re our best source of information. Besides, Aotea’s been full of the leftovers of Occupy Auckland, the nuttier, conspiracy-theorist ones. They’re not going to be any help in this. They’re probably babbling on about how this is all a plot to steal our money or something. Let’s just keep going,” Regan explained. “Okay, good point. Let’s hurry,” Ash was worried about the apparent growing amount of injured people around the place.
“You guys are headed to New Lynn?” A voice came from behind them. “Yeah, why?” Ash asked, turning. It was a girl, about the same as he and Regan were. “I’m from out of town. Staying with family in New Lynn. Figured busses and trains wouldn’t work, but I don’t know the city enough to get back there on my own. Can I tag along?” she asked. Ash looked to Regan. “Eh, of course, as long as we keep moving,” he said. “Thanks!” the girl exclaimed. “I’m Rowan, by the way.” “Ash.” “Regan. I would say nice to meet you, but look at this shit.”
The three looked back down Queen Street towards the harbour. People’s screams still drifted up, and the crowd was visible from where they were. It was a mess. There seemed to be an unreasonable amount of injured people; some sitting or lying, others walking about.
“Wow, guys,” said Rowan. “Your cops up here really suck.”
Right. This’ll be my last post on here until the next time I do something. This is the first part of the zombie story I was talking about, called Project Evasion. Most of the characters (all of them in this part) are based on real people, and the people get to make the major decisions for their characters. So it’s a blend of rpg and story, with more focus on the story.
I’m trying to make it as interactive as possible, so not only are the characters based on real people, but I’m accepting storyline suggestions and requests, too, and (hopefully) people will be able to talk to the characters themselves. (That obviously depends on the people controlling the characters.)
So. If you want to take part, submit characters here.
And just another, final reminder, my personal blog is no longer at tilthedayawakesus, but rather at martincumberbatch.
(In case anyone was wondering, this blog is now used as an author/musician page for any news concerning projects I am undertaking. Getoverthefear is still at getoverthefear.)
Flecks of burning wood floated into the air. The flames danced against the night sky, flirting with the stars. Heat emanated from the couch, warming the bodies of the people sitting around it, before dissipating into the cold country air.
The sound of pinecones burning, cracking, popping, hissing, was all that we could hear. We were silent, ourselves. There wasn’t exactly much to talk about in a moment like that. The mood was a sombre one, one of loss and mourning.
In the back of our collective mind, we knew we would have to move soon. They would be attracted to the light from miles away. None of us wanted to be trapped in a horde of the beasts.
Another five minutes, then we’d be up and away, running, like we always did.
We were so very tired.
It took me so long to find this. The actual document was on a flash drive I lost. Thank the gods for tumblr.
Anyway. This is the zombie thing I was talking about. Part of my 8000th post ~celebrations~ (so lame, I love it) is to finish this, and I want people on tumblr to be the characters, both because it would be cool, and because I hate creating characters.
If you want to be a character in a zombie apocalypse, let me know. Warning: it may require you making decisions on what your character does every now and then, and a description of yourself (if you’re comfortable with that).
It was only a few days ago or something. But I said I’d actually do something major for my next milestone. I originally intended to make this post to complain about the fact that my 8000th wasn’t that far away and I had no idea what to do for it.
But then I had an idea.
So. For the next few days or whenever I shall take requests for creative things of writing. Personalised poetry and short stories or fanfiction requests or absolutely anything. You could give me words to use in a poem or a topic to write poetry or stories about or yourself as a character in a story (I’ve been meaning to do a zombie apocalypse piece for ages so if enough people want to be characters in a zombie apocalypse I will write that) or a plot idea/pairing for fanfiction; anything goes.
Just hit up my ask.
and watch as I get absolutely nothing
I’d just like to let everyone know that I am no longer using tilthedayawakesus, but rather martincumberbatch. At some point I shall fix the links.
Also, I’m doing this thing. Feel free to take part.
The zombie story shall (hopefully) be the main thing, because I really want to write it. Just collecting characters now.