This match bears the dubious honor of being the first in T5 not to strike the eight-vote threshold set in T3, meaning that the total value of each vote is reduced so to prevent extreme disproportionate leads. Luckily, it was a tie anyway, at 3.5-3.5.
In the aftermath of the fight, there wasn’t much left of the stage - crystal, fungus, and scrap alike had all built up, scattered around the arena, and in the center of it all stood Funk Odyssey, skidding her bike to a halt after having eked out a victory at the last moment. Klein and Funk both stood near each other, both breathing heavily and trying to recover after the tiring ordeal, amid a roar of applause from whoever was there to watch the exciting fight. “AAAAND, WE HAVE A WINNER! A ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR FUNK ODYSSEY! Wait, why’s the mic-” Cairo stopped in confusion, the microphone that was amplifying their voice cutting out all of a sudden. Shifting a glance towards the producers on set, it seemed like they weren’t aware of what caused the problem either. Confused murmurs could be heard from the stand users on-set. Okay, this was a technical error, but this was obviously salvageable - Cairo’s dealt with worse in the past, so- The already bad situation turned worse when the lights cut out entirely, the speakers in the warehouse humming to life again, though not by the hands of any of the crew members. A second later, a synthesized text-to-speech voice could be heard over the speakers. “HELLO, CITIZENS OF LOS FORTUNA. THIS BROADCAST IS BEING HIJACKED. ” What the fuck. Looking at one of the screens by the edge of the warehouse previewing the stream, Cairo could see that the stream’s been taken over entirely by whoever it was that did this, with them currently displaying some kind of placeholder image of a shrouded figure. Wasting no time, Cairo left the two combatants and made their way over to the filming crew, trying to figure out what the hell was happening and how it could be stopped. “WHETHER DUE TO MALICE OR WILLFUL IGNORANCE, BEING SO NORMAL AND ITS CREW HAVE BEEN COMPLICIT IN VARIOUS CRIMES, BOTH DURING AND PRIOR TO ITS RUNTIME.” Funk could hear the murmurings of stand users around her, and of Cairo and the rest of the crew trying to figure out what exactly was going on and how to stop them. Was this Peter’s doing? Was that why he needed her to be here? Funk remembered hearing him mention the source for this investigation of his a few times - apparently he’d been working with a “Jesse Jefferson'' from the Agricultural District who’d gotten his hands on a flashdrive made by Nova Nascens containing this information, and thanks to Peter’s skills (combined with some stand magic from that magic house Jesse lived in that repaired the hard drive every time it literally exploded in their faces). Meanwhile, it seemed like the show’s producers were still struggling to regain control of the stream. “CAIRO HAS BEEN COMPLICIT IN PROMOTING UNREST WITHIN THE INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT, WORKING ALONGSIDE ODIN TO SEND STAND USERS TO FIGHT WITH LOCAL UNIONS, LEADING TO RECENT RISING TENSIONS IN THE AREA.“ “FURTHERMORE, OTHER MEMBERS OF STAFF HAVE COMMITTED VARIOUS OTHER CRIMES, BUT NONE AS MUCH AS THIS SHOW’S LEAD CAMERAWOMAN - CAROLINE JEFFORDS.” The screen shifted to an image of a brown haired woman, who Funk could only assume was caroline. Then, it began shifting to a series of other, well-laid graphs, documents, and images, all presenting evidence for the accusations shown up until now. “OVER THE YEARS, THIS WOMAN HAS COMMITTED COUNTLESS CRIMES ALL FOR THE SAKE OF PROFIT USING HER STAND - SPYING ON FIGURES OF NOTE FROM WITHIN THE CITY AND SELLING THE INFORMATION TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER, REGARDLESS OF INTENT, AND COVERING UP CRIMES AND TAMPERING WITH SURVEILLANCE FOOTAGE FOR A PRICE. OF NOTE, EVIDENCE RELATING TO THE RECENT AND TRAGIC DEATH OF THE LATE ANDRÉ TIFÀNI HAS BEEN TAMPERED WITH IN ORDER TO FURTHER SHIFT THE BLAME ONTO-” The feed cut off entirely, power having simply been cut to the building entirely. If Peter had found a way to make the stream continue even after this, Funk wouldn’t be able to see it. For a moment, the warehouse was dead silent. Then, murmurings began between the various stand users in the audience, no one knowing what to make of this information. Regardless of whether the feed was cut or not, one thing was clear - The damage had already been done, and the truth had come to light. Surprises are everywhere, and there’s still yet more mysteries to be uncovered. Two boys have found doubles of themselves, who’ve lived their same lives yet all within the bounds of the city, and the four are now fighting. You only have a few hours left to vote in that when this goes up. Scenario: Sound’s Garden - Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater - Early Evening The entrance to the theater which had, months ago now, put on one of the greatest shows in the city’s history had again been filled with eager people, wanting little more than to enjoy yet concert by Metra Doria, or “TD/MD”; it had been the first in a little while, her last appearances onstage being a string of benefit shows she’d performed for immediately after the destruction of Capital Island. They weren’t bad, critics had said, but far from her best work, as though spending several weeks kidnapped by the head of a citywide crime ring had affected her ability to perform or something. Regardless, though, there were good feelings about this one, as since that fateful day, there hadn’t been a single bad show at the Alexander, and the local interview cycle had Metra come across as so much more genuinely excited than she had been, even if she also did publicly express her frustrations with the fact that, thanks to some act of sabotage, a leaking of information, the arrest of one Toby Fox had been subverted, and he and several of his buddies were still free to wreak their havoc. Guy Manuel-Mota wasn’t much one to complain about a gig, whatever that job happened to be, and though he’d known the unscrupulous nature of his client, the garish Tigran “Golden” Sins, he also knew exactly how much money the guy had, so when he said that he and Fox had wanted a man on the ground at the stage out of fear that somebody might attack Metra, that even if he was trying to move past his affections for the girl, he’d still wished to keep watch over her, quietly. If it was true, creepy. If it was a bold-faced lie, at least Guy knew damn well that they were good for their money if they had Seido fucking Shuto on retainer. Either way, he knew he’d get paid as long as he didn’t fuck up. As Guy walked up to the ticket-takers, corralling eager audience members forward, he noticed them offering strange shiny wristbands to every single person who walked by, telling them “wear it if you want!” and finding, every time, that they just sort of mindlessly nodded and did just that. When it came to be Guy’s turn, then, of course, he was much the same, accepting it and holding it in one hand, his stub in the other, as he looked the fake-gold, glittering accessory over, tilting his head as he noted the words, very subtly engraved, on it:
IWILLPLAY
“So… That’s your game, huh?” Guy asked, shrugging and slipping it on just like all the rest. He saw where this would go from here, and figured that what the guy paying him wanted was for him to play along. “Uh, sir-” The ticket taker murmured and stammered at somebody, “sir, please, you can only take one! W-we need enough commemorative wristbands for a full house, so please-” “Fuck off,” the pink-headed, ornery showgoer declared, yoinking the entire box away and fishing out several, putting a few all over his hands, “I want ‘em all!” Huh… Guess that’s ‘trouble,’ right on cue. Should I lead him somewhere alone, or just wait for something, or..? Before he could formulate a plan of action, Guy blacked out for what felt like a moment. Sound’s Garden Eastern Strip - Metra Doria’s Apartment - Earlier that Day “Well, well, well,” Ananas ‘Agnes’ Bayley said, before cracking open a can of soda, downing it in several drawn out seconds, cracking open a second, downing that in seconds, and then, a third time, before stacking all three, “how the turntables.” “…” Metra gave him a look, one which Agnes smugly knew was her asking herself, in that moment, ‘am I seriously going to work with this guy?’ It was a feeling he reveled in, being unwanted and dreaded, yet at once needed and tolerated. “So… Will you come? I’ll hook you up with VIP merch, owe you one in general, just… I dunno. I’ve been feeling extremely good about this show, excited, but now that Fox is out there again, I feel like I need… Backup, I guess? Like, I could take any one of those guys in a fight on my own, sure, but with a huge crowd, and trying to focus on my stuff, and…” “And Arpeggi and that fuckin’… catgirl were busy, I take it.” Agnes snickered, moving around the cans’ placement, never on one of Metra’s coasters, watching as little rings formed on the table. “Heh, fuck ‘em anyway. Dealing with a situation like this… You don’t need some ‘good guy’ worried about not making a mess or whatever. You need a bona fide villain to flex on these posers. Call it fate that I was available short-notice and they weren’t.” “Just…” Metra sounded resigned. “Please don’t cause too much trouble. Damages will come out of your reward.” “Snrk… Of course. It’ll come out of my pay. A sentence I hear every day from Gabanna, you know.” With Metra’s reluctance and Agnes’ amusement, a deal had been struck. Metra Doria, too, had been handed one of those strange wristbands, and she, too, seemed to black out suddenly, only realizing a moment too late exactly what, once again, this had all meant. She hadn’t approved ‘commemorative wristbands’ on the dossier, and the text on it… Goddammit! But… Her green room looked almost identical. What the hell was going on? Maybe her backup dancers would know something, or Agnes had noticed… He’d at least report to her if he had figured something out, right? …right? She stepped outside, then, only to find herself, and what she’d thought was her green room, atop a shelf in a very high-up, VIP area, a sort of outdoor box seating-type arrangement which the Alexander saved for its most prized guests. Almost always, somebody from Fox’s little club. She had been shrunk down to the size of a game piece, and sitting at a table nearby, watched with interest by about half a dozen suits she had come to recognize, was a perfect recreation of the entire stage and seating areas of the amphitheater. As she tried to process this, then, her view was taken up entirely by the giant, punchable face of Tigran Sins. “Evening, Metra! Looks like you underestimated me again… Heh, for some reason, people keep doing that.” The very garish man laughed, but his eyes were glaring down at her. Always, he’d hated her, resented the attention she’d taken from Fox. “Been awhile, hasn’t it?” “Tigran… What the fuck did you do?” Metra curled her tiny hands into fists, allowing her Stand, the headphones often seen at her neck, to manifest, “you… How many people are down there? I hear so many voices murmuring, even from here!” “Thousands upon thousands,” Tigran remarked, “all waiting none the wiser for the show you promised them… Including a side appearance from two Stand Users. You really put all your faith in a loose cannon like that Agnes kid who set a fire in my casino? You’ve been acting cool, but you’re desperate, aren’t ya? You know we’re here to stay… And what game we’re playing.” “You… You’d better run the hell away fast as soon as we’ve won, because we will ruin you.” She tried to sound defiant, there, but Metra was trembling. “Some things, a Stand User just can’t beat with all their strength, Metra… Now, c’mon.” He held up a cute little tiny limousine, cracking the door open. “You’ve got a show to do.” The crowd came to at once, already amassed within the amphitheater, seats filled, standing room similarly heavily occupied. There was hardly room to move one’s arms around in there. Which, of course, Agnes was doing anyway, swatting people away and getting called rude words, cackling as he made for himself some space. Something was fucking up here, and he did not want to be caught off-guard by- “Hey.” “Shit!” Agnes jumped, then, and turned around, seeing Guy Manuel-Mota face-to-face, staring him down with a somewhat even expression. “Hey, c’mon, I’m not that scary, am I?” Guy joked, rubbing his arms and making a point of showing off his bracelet, then gesturing at it, and at the stage, and saying, “anyway, my name’s Guy Manuel-Mota. You probably already realize this, Agnes, but… You’re already in a trap here. Both of us are stuck, even.” “Heheh, what, are you trying to warn me or something? Well, I don’t need an alliance with you… So fuck off.” “I wasn’t asking for one.” Guy corrected, then, adding, “you know how Tigran Sins works… The only way we’re getting out of this is through each other.” “My fucking thoughts exactly,” Agnes answered, “and exactly what I came here for… A chance to pound that gold-wearing fuck’s face in. I hear he really hates that shit, so I’ll make it permanent. Guy’s casual demeanor, then, turned into a stiff, serious face, hands at the blades on his person. “You won’t last that long.” “Oh, you’re fucking on, you-” “Alright, Los Fortuna! Give it up for exactly what you came here for!” An announcer’s voice cheered on, then, ringing through the arena almost deafeningly loud, followed by a cascade of rising cheers. The noise distracted Agnes, and Guy made his getaway. “Back again at the Alexander Dickinson…” Shit… So many people here, not even paying attention. Where did he go? “Unbreakable, unshakeable, here to give the show of her life again as she always does… TD/MD!” Metra strutted out onto the stage, then, to the cheers of the crowd, but Agnes noticed that she seemed to be frequently looking up towards the sky, or towards the various short-circuit cameras wired to display her on the jumbotrons. The crowd seemed too vapid, too fandom-consumed to notice, but there was apprehension in her every step in that casual yet elegant performing costume of hers. “It means so much to me to see you all out here… Really, I appreciate every single one of you, even if I don’t know you! Just the fact that you came here…” She was trying not to sound guilty as hell there, for what she and all of them had fallen into. Agnes wasn’t sure whether to feel bad, to get mad at Tigran Sins for pulling one over on them again, or to laugh. “So! I’m just going to start with a classic, alright? Keep the emergency exits in mind, but more than that, get ready, because what’s coming is something hard to describe! Let’s make it a night worth remembering!” Guy continued to grasp his swords, keeping close to the crowd, close to the stage. Cruel what you’re doing, Mr. Sins… And you didn’t tell me I’d be fighting the guy who ripped the Ocean Soul’s arm off. I’d better get a hell of a bonus for this. OPEN THE GAME! Location: The Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater, in the Entertainment District (specifically, a perfect replica of its crowd area). The area for the match here is 50 by 60 meters, with each tile being 5 by 5 meters. Agnes starts at the middle left and Guy starts in the middle right as represented by their respectively colored team tokens. The stage is at the top as represented by the grey semi-circle. The audience members are represented by the red circles and the venue is sectioned off as a concert generally would be. Each seating section is represented by the blue, green, and yellow transparencies. These areas are roped off to keep them separate. The dotted semi-circular line is a row of metal security fences to keep people from getting too close to the stage. Goal: RETIRE your opponent! Additional Information: The audience members all have flat two physicals, and are mostly paying attention to the ongoing concert, eager and excited fans that they are. Metra Doria is performing onstage with a backing band, and it’s quite loud, yet somehow (the noise-altering effect of her Stand, maybe?) you aren’t debilitated by it. The audience members won’t deliberately cooperate with you in any meaningful way, and don’t particularly care about one another either, but will try to avoid getting hurt if they can see it coming. Due to brazen threats on the guests by Tigran and the rest, none of Metra’s crew will interfere in the match, and are basically as good as non-entities mechanically, but it goes without saying that harming them or outright ruining the performance will lead to Fox canonically and successfully killing you with a giant rock. So don’t go on the stage itself.
“Faceless gazes passing by with me / The void in my heart changed with the path I chose” You find these ED guys absolutely loathsome, but the idea of completely stealing Metra’s thunder is nonetheless appealing to your villainous heart. Act as cool as possible in your own way!
“There's no limit to each new encounter - everything so ordinarily bizarre” These people want their shows to be impressive, right? Well, may as well get that check… Act as cool as possible in your own way!
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D100 floors for the magical tower that just appeared
It can be puzzles, combat, a rolplaying scene... But THEY NEED TO HAVE A CONDITION TO PASS TO THE NEXT FLOOR
It's a tavern perfectly seted up for some quick dates, in order to continue o the next floor the PCs need to find the love of their life.
It's just a trapdoor on the ceiling, but it's really far away from the floor, around 5 meters
It's a giant armadillo they need to defeat, but he refuses to fight and is made a ball so they can't attack him, they need to convince him into combat. If he surrenders it still counts as a victory.
A magic tic tac toe that makes Xs appear where it's touched and places Os where it needs in order to play with a perfect strategy, you can use the Google tic tac toe in impossible mode. In order to continue they need to win either by pressing two tiles at the same time (the board won't make his move until it's released) or by pressing a tile already occupied by an O
It's a TV quizz show called Know your monsters, the host is a humanoid bee and when asked any questions the correct answer will be B. Their opponents are a group of humanoid snakes that will always answer C (sssssssce) they only need to answer one question correctly to win since their oponents will always be wrong. You can ask random things from the monsters manual but preferably not statistics but colors of things or height, just to avoid meta.
Remember that game, "the floor is lava"? The floor is not lava -- the heat and toxic fumes would make the game impossible to play -- but a black pudding. There are several "islands" throughout the room -- a slowing dissolving wooden chest, a stone statue of a historic figure, a suit of pitted plate armor, the corpse inside sizzling and smoking -- at various distances that the players can jump to in order to reach the exit. (Or they can just boldly wade through, damage and corrosion be damned!) Each "island" poses its own challenges in terms of footing, length of time it can be stood on, how much weight it can support, and so on. Oh, and remember a black pudding can punch you with its pseudopod.
The BDP: You open the door to find a rather plain waiting area where various monsters and surprisingly enough adventurers are waiting in line. Out of the 12 teller windows only 3 are active at any given time and are manned by mindless zombies. On a successful dungeoneering check will gove the realization that the adventurers have entered the Bureau for Dungeon Placement. A sign in abyssal tells the adventurers what line they must enter and what forms they need to fill out but not in what order and may have to reenter the line upon failure to be in the right line with the right paperwork. A line takes 1d4 hours to get to the front. All monsters and npc adventurers start off with a hostile attitude towards the adventurers of they try to speed things up and cut to the front. Once everything has been properly filled/signed/stamped the adventurers are shown to the door that will lead them to the next floor.
A sphynx who wants the answer to a riddle, but can't remember the riddle. Asks the party for a good riddle to stump the next group of adventurers with and only let's them pass if they come up with a really good one. A few levels later, you encounter a troll who demands you answer his riddle. He's giddy about how hard the riddle is, and taunts you with the impossibility of it, and how you'll never ever get it right. He says if you get the riddle wrong, he gets to eat one of you, and demands you pick out the person that he gets to eat ahead of time. And then you pick out that person, and he says, no, not that one, I don't like the look of that one -- too fat/skinny/ugly/whatever, no, I want that one, and he picks out a different person, and haggles endlessly, until finally you reach a deal. And then at last he tells you the riddle, which is the riddle you told to the sphinx a few floors ago. Of course you know the answer. He flies into a rage and attacks you.
A movie theater with a really bad movie playing. The PCs have to make saving throws in order to resist the psychic damage of the most horrible plot the DM can come up with (think of things like Santa going to high school or Romeo and Juliet but it’s told by a ghetto version of Tybalt). When the room is searched there is no exit, but once the movie is finished the lights will come on and a very obvious exit will appear.
A waiting room filled with other adventurers on various different quests. There’s a ticker by the door with a double digit number on it and a small wheel of tickets with numbers on them. The players take a short rest before their numbers are shown and they can go through the door.
Several monsters or previous enemies just sitting at various tables playing different casino games. To get to the next floor each of the party members needs to win one game each. When they do they will be given a key shaped like a casino chip which they can use to open the door to the next floor. And remember, the baddies play for bets.
A library labyrinth. When the PCs enter they will see a very lost wizarding college student. They will ask the PCs to help them find a book that they think will help them get to the next floor. Upon finding the book it will act as a lever opening a secret passage. The student, however, will ignore the hidden door and rip the book off the shelf breaking something that a poor gnome worked very hard on. He will take the book with the wires still attached and head back into the Labyrinth thanking the party.
It's goats! The entire floor is a pastoral meadow full of goats. Why are there so many goats? You are unsure but they seem peaceful.
It's a giant talking head calling itself Olmec, it challenges you to run through a darkly lit five story maze to try to find an idol. Masked men will jump out and attack you as you search for the idol.
At the center of this room is an elegant fountain, an inscription on it claims that whoever bathes in the fountain will be as ageless and strong as a mountain. Any part of the body that actually touches the water will turn to stone. Warning: Drinking the water will kill you. The stairs are just behind it, its just to see if they are dumb enough to use the fountain.
It's a goblinoid street festival! Jolly goblin and bugbear merchants attempt to hawk all manner of strange festival foods! From honeyed mushrooms to fried rat skewers, horse jerky and moss based salads. Various events can occur, like: (1)a lost child that needs to find his mother, (2)a guard trying to stop some thieves from pickpocketing, (3)a store owner that needs a way to publicitate his shop, (4) a circus artists whose asisstant, a parrot that has been shapeshifted to a human, is missing and they need to find it by looking for someone that only repeats what they hear or acts socially awkward. The first can lead them to kenkus. If the group is splitted they can end up trying to publicitate enemisted shops, trying to help both the pickpocketers and the guard, helping both the mother and the kid... But you can come up with your own ideas for events and when you are done you can make them find a key or the door for the next floor to appear.
The Ball Pit - The Room is filled with colorful little hollow balls, each the size of softball. It is neck deep on a tall human (at least six feet deep). Somewhere in the pool of spheres is a trigger or switch that will lower a rope from the ceiling and the exit there. There is an antimagic field near the ceiling that cancels magical attempts to reach it, and the walls on all sides are slick as wet ice and impossible to climb. On the plus side, any fall drops you safely into the ball pit.
The shooting gallery from Zelda Ocarina of Time. Gotta play to win, gotta win to escape. (At least one player from the part must hit all the targets, DM sets a series of increasingly difficult attack rolls )
An awkward dinner party with the villain’s parents, who keep apologizing for what they’ve done. Players who can successfully change the subject of the conversation escape.
A huge room filled with desks, hundreds of people sitting nervously. Yes, it’s your calculus final, and none of you have studied. At least one player must pass a math quiz to escape .
David S. Pumpkins https://youtu.be/rS00xWnqwvI, when he finishes dancing and asks for questions he banishes, he will now appear every d4+1 floors, rolling again everytime he appears to make it unpredictable. You can be creative with the scenarios he appears in, like in a riddle in which one of the skeletons always lies and the other tells the truth and there are 2 doors, the one the skeletons act as if was the door with the stairway contains David S. Pumpkins or similar scenarios to surprise your players
Nothing but chickens. The whole floor is a well-appointed coop with straw on the floor (that magically refreshes twice a day), bins for water and food, lots of little hutches for roosting. Every day at noon, a swarm of insects materializes, and the chickens go apeshit hunting them down. In order to pass to the next level of the tower, the characters must find the golden egg that one of the chickens has laid. There is a cup to fit it in the very center of the floor, but no other indication of what to do. Any non-golden egg placed in the cup explodes and does 6d8 force damage to anyone within 20 feet (DC 15 DEX for half). This explosion leaves the chickens unharmed.
March in Minnesota - The air is crisp, clean, and heading to warmth. A near by window lets in light that is warm and inviting. On the far side of the room is a door out. It is roughly 300 feet across with a rough and uneven floor, but not s much as to make walking difficult. Maybe you will stub a toe, but that's the worst danger. As soon as the PCs take a single step in, snow plummets from the sky, burying everything in a depth of snow that varies per ten foot square from one inch to approximately three hundred inches (3d100 - 2). Situated near the door are exactly enough snow shovels for each party member. There is also a sign that states "All Walkways must be clear or fines levied." A diagram shows a wide (20 foot x 100 foot path) that stretches from one wall to the next path labelled Driveway and a smaller path stretching from door to door five feet wide and 300 feet long. Failure to try and open the door without clearing the snow form the pathways results in a arctic cold blast that deals cold damage to the entire party. Once the pathways are clear, the door unlocks. Room Notes: The Pathway is in a vague "T" shape, with the driveway path ending randomly in a snowbank that may or may not have been randomly plowed up by a jack ass snow plow man. Every Hour there is a 5% chance for more snow to fall. This snow will fall on each square, especially those recently shoveled. I would estimate that for a fit shoveler about 4–5 tons an hour is about right. For a non fit shoveler I would expect 2–3 tons per hour. 20x20x6 block of snow weighs roughly one ton.
A trophy room, filled with various awards, though your party gets nervous when they see their own names on empty plaques meant for mounting animal heads. DC 18 investigation check reveals a trap door lever- it’s an elk antler you have to turn just right.
the nicest bathroom anyone has ever seen, with the friendliest and most stylish bathroom attendant you’ve ever met. With a uniform that neatly pressed and a smile that warm and accommodating you almost can ignore the fact that it’s a fiend. The last toilet stall conceals an escape tunnel- players flush themselves like Harry Potter OR fight the fiend to escape.
A large cratered and barren field a few hundred feet across with a line of trenches on either side. The trenches stretch as far as the eye can see in either direction, and both are filled with strangely dressed soldiers speaking unfamiliar languages that are engaged in firing strange weapons at each other. The party emerges in one of the trenches, and peering over the top of their trench over at the other can plainly see the exit door standing behind the other trench.
A wall has Draconic text on it. Shouting loudly at them in draconic will cause them to glow, revealing the exit in the process. Disturbing the runes in any other way summons a dragon of appropriate level, which is fiercely aggressive towards the party regardless of normal alignment. Upon it's defeat, the exit it revealed.
The door to this floor simply leads to another door, and another, and another. An infinite demiplane of two-way hallways of doors stretches out from it. A third-person omniscient narrator comments on the party' s actions, occasionally dropping vague hints at the solution but primarily to make fun of the players. The solution is to keep more than 10 doors open; they close automatically, but can be propped open or broken. This many hallways revealed at once destabilizes the apparently low-level demiplane, causing the next opened door to lead to the next floor. The more doors that are open, the more odd and stilted the narrator sounds.
On this floor, mirrors make up the walls and ceiling. There is no visible exit door, apart from the one that was used to enter the room. Attempting to break a mirror fails, and causes psychic damage equal to the damage that the player would have dealt to the mirror. A successful DC15 perception check reveals that the mirrors are very slightly delayed from what they are reflecting, similar to a low-quality camera. The solution is to damage a party member without damaging the mirror; the mirror will be shattered, and the party member that was damaged will disappear from all mirrors in the room. After all the party members disappear from the mirrors, the mirror image of the door that was uses to enter the room becomes a door of it's own, which leads to the next floor.
A room where there is some texts on the wall in a language that none of the party understands. This room is protected by divination magic as if there is a 5th level counter spell which is displayed as a flash of blue light. this can be dispelled with a successful DC 19 dispel magic or a fifth level spell slot. There is also a table with 5 or so syringes on it. If one of the players is punctured by it by any means they must make a DC 25 con save or suffer the effects. Which are that you learn one language and are able to read, write and speak it but loses all other languages in the process. After 1 minute they will need to take another con save DC 15 if successful nothing happens and don’t need to roll anymore saves. If failed then their bones start to turn to liquid making it hard to perform gestures and you attack at disadvantage. After another minute they will need to perform another DC 14 con save if successful then nothing happens on a fail there legs start to turn into liquid your movement speed is halved and you have disadvantage on dex saves. Another minute goes by and another con save DC 14 if successful nothing happens if failed their entire body turns into goop giving them 10ft move speed and a 10ft climb speed they can fit though gaps 1 inch in size, they cannot use somatic components, and they are now classified as an ooze. This can be entirely cured by a greater restoration spell but will be put back one level by a lesser restoration spell. But if it is removed entirely the person forgets that language entirely and everything they have read with it. One of the syringes gives you the language you need and all they need to do is say the text on the wall which can be whatever you want. After someone says it all the effects from the syringes go away and a door opens letting you continue.
A room containing a deep blue slime, capable of communication (somehow), that demands that the PCs play a game of some kind before continuing. Cards, dice, or on the mysterious screen devices in the room - doesn't matter, they know them all. (the roll involved depends on the game and the playstyle - bluffing requires charisma, strategy games require wisdom, and so on.) If the PCs lose the game, the slime gets very smug about it and proclaims them to be brainless newbies. Mentioning the irony of it calling someone brainless will get him angry. If the PCs win the game, the slime gets very angry about it and proclaims them to be cheating scrubs and demands a rematch. The slime is very very easily provoked into arguing for hours about the best strategy for any game in particular (it calls it 'the meta') and takes them very, very seriously. If at any point the argument of the PCs becomes something along the lines of "It's just a game", regardless of the context, the slime metaphorically explodes in anger, and then shortly thereafter literally explodes with anger. This allows the PCs to continue. Alternatively, after a full 3 hours of arguing with the PCs about The Meta, (during which a lot of arguments will be repeats of previous ones, regardless of what the PCs say) the slime will proclaim the PCs to be so completely trash that they're not even worth talking to and playing with, and demanding that they leave. (not in those exact words, most likely!) This will also allow the PCs to leave. (Added side note: Any PC brave or foolish enough to taste test the blue slime - pre or post explosion - will find that it tastes oddly sweet, and makes the PC in question feel energized... at least for an hour, and then they feel just a bit sleepy for an hour afterwards. If it's tasted pre-explosion, the slime may be slightly perturbed, but will continue with the above actions regardless unless repeatedly ingested, at which point it will skip to demanding the players leave - after all, trying to eat someone up while they're arguing with you is just plain rude.)
A very large room that appears to be hosting a concert of a band of orcs (or suitable equivalent) playing extremely loud rock ballads, EDM music, and other such, regardless of the standard period music of the adventure. The difficulty isn't in finding the exit - it's plainly marked at the other side of the room - but in getting to it, pushing through a throng of drunk and rowdy concert goers while dealing with music so loud that you can feel it modifying your heartbeat through shear force. It's not deafening, though... more's the pity (?).
A room containing one incredibly sweet looking individual (your choice of race, gender and so on - pick whatever your table would find most cute.) at an artist's table, with a door to the next floor on the other side. The individual turns out to be an artist, and would love to show you one of their sketchbooks - you don't have to look through it at all, simply say you're busy and move on, but they'll be very disheartened if you don't. If the PCs do look through, they find that the art is very very well drawn - but also that subject matter both impressively eclectic, and incredibly, ah... 'candid', if you catch my meaning. (It's up to you to decide which meaning would be most appropriate to your table. tread cautiously, and keep it funny!) It's not as if the drawings will cause madness akin to Cthulhu or anything, thankfully, but likely they wouldn't expect these kind of drawings from someone this cute. A compliment of their art will make the individual very very happy, but again, isn't necessary to pass through.
A room covered in very obvious tile switches on the floor, with a sign reading "STEP TWO STEP TWO.", and faint dance music playing (in 2/4 time, importantly). The tiles are labeled with numbers 1 to 9, in a seemingly random order, though there is a path of 2s leading to the door. Stepping on the tiles at random leads to the tiles seemingly randomly flinging the PCs back to the entrance - it makes them hit the wall, but thankfully the wall is cushioned so as not to harm them. The trick is to step onto the tiles in time with the beat - the actual tiles stepped on doesn't matter, it's simply the timing. If the PCs decide to make their steps into funky dance moves, the room gives them a little extra bonus when they hit the exit door - namely, a well made outfit tailored just right for the PC in question, and perfectly appropriate for dancing in. (This outfit may end up modified slightly in style depending on the dance moves in particular used - in particular, performing an actual two step will garner a masterfully crafted outfit of appropriate style (What the appropriate style is depends, of course, on the kind of two step performed - there's more then one! Look it up!) that's suitable for enchantments.)
A room with a sign in the middle reading 'REST STOP', with a set of lovely cushioned seats (or just cushions, if you prefer), one for each party member, set around a table with some well made jam and bread, alongside a pot of tea - just enough for one cup per member. If they have any pets or animal-like followers, there's also some appropriate food and drink for them. If the party doesn't like tea, or jam and bread, replace it with something they'd prefer. The door to the next floor is available at any point in time - The room itself is perfectly safe to take a short rest in, although perhaps a bit too small for people to lie down and sleep in without having to lie on top of one another. There's nothing particularly special about the food and drink presented, but it is quite well made and is enough to satisfy whatever hunger might be present, if any.
An empty room with an ordinary locked door. The door can't be damaged and the lock can't be picked. The door is unlocked the second time an individual touches it.
The party enter into a room only lit by a singular spotlight on an empty space in the middle of the room (this might freak the party out on its own). Once the party moves further into the room (be it into the spotlight or not) more light will turn on, revealing 4-5 wealthy looking nobles, businessmen or merchants. In front of the prior lit area is now a pedestal with a item on top. One of the men will say something along the lines of "Well, well, well... What do you bring into.... The Lions Den! What spectacular item do you think is worthy of our investment?" It's like the program Shark Tank, the party has to convince one of the merchants/nobles to buy their product. The problem is the product is something entirely useless; a small block of wood, a wet cloth, a tin cup with lots of dents. The merchants might take everything very serious and with a stone expression, they might take it as an insult that the party tries to pitch this worthless junk to them. Once the party convinces anyone of the merchants to invest in their product, a door will open behind that person.
The party walk into a tavern. It's almost full, but there's a table or two with enough room for the party. In one end a stage is setup and what seems like a farmer is trying a few jokes - it's open mic night! The party, either all of them or just one person, needs to take to the stage and deliver a good joke. Be it a short one liner or a more elaborate story, they have to get a laugh out of the audience, which might prove a bit rough. Then a door will open at the other end of the room. If the party manages to get you, the DM, to actually laugh, award them with something - the patrons might toss a few gold coins, they might have a shop in town and offer the party a discount next time they stop by.
It's a quite large room, or a forest clearing, whatever you feel like. On one side of the room is a large pile of huge stones, weirdly rectangular, each stone being approximately 4m x 2,1m x 1m and weighing about 20 tonnes. On the other side is a smaller, but still human-height stone with some Sylvan inscriptions. If they don't know Sylvan, a successful investigation/intelligence roll will let them know it's a set of instructions. On the smaller stone is also a somewhat washed out 'picture' depicting the structure they need to build. Yep - it's the Stonehenge, and they need to build it The hard part should not be figuring this out, but actually moving these heavy rocks - unless they have a Bear Totem Goliath Barbarian with 24 STR or something, they can't really move the stones weighing 20 tonnes. Maybe the rogue got some rope and pullies, maybe they got a 10 foot pole to use as a leverage, maybe the mage got some useful spell - using fireball to explode the stones up (they are either hardy enough or indestructible), or of they have no idea, a set of good strength rolls should be enough. Once they've set it up, a druid will come and thank them for their service, and show them the way onwards.
The door to the room has "Little Shop of Horticulture" written on it. When the party walks inside they see a massive store with all kinds of plants. In the center of the room is a giant Venus flytrap that keeps repeating "FEED ME SEYMOUR" The shopkeeper is a dick and won't let them leave without buying one of the most expensive items in the store, but he also has a name tag that says Seymour. If he's feed to the fly trap the party can leave.
A goblin's birthday party. In the center of this room is a small crudely made birthday cake sitting atop it a table. 1d4+1 goblins surround it, one of which is wearing a poorly made construction paper party hat. Along one edge of the wall is a table containing gifts (things from the trinket list) from each goblin in the room. Across the room is a door to the next floor. The goblins will want the players to stay and celebrate with them and be sad if they leave.
The room is filled with 100 cats, and one of the cats is speaking common to the other cats, gossiping about the adventurers that have arrived on the floor, maybe insulting them a little. The common speaking cat mentions they know where the key to the door to the next floor is but would never tell a bunch of idiots like this group. Common speaking cat doesn't know they are speaking common, thinks they are speaking cat. It is difficult to tell which cat is speaking common since they all move their mouths the same way and are constantly moving. Cat's can be interrogated via speak with animals, to provide advice as to what the common speaking cat sounds like. Perhaps threatening to start killing cats to blackmail the common speaking cat could work as well. If group suggests starting to intimidate random cats, have them roll D100 and choose a random number, if that number happens to be rolled, then they grabbed the correct cat. Key is adhered to the common speaking cats furry belly and can be inserted into the door which has stairs leading to the floor above.
JoJo's Bizarre Adventure OC Tournament #5: Round 1 Match 12 Alexis and Cybil Vs Admiral Pineapples and Rudolph
“届けて, 切なさには名前をつけようか ‘Snow halation!’” The harpoon lodged itself into the Ocean Soul’s chest following a powerful toss from Pork Soda, the beast desperately trying to hit the tether to destroy it and release the harpoon, to no avail. The Ocean Soul had underestimated its opponents, who were currently singing some sort of song, perhaps a sort of war cry, meant to display their superior strength. “想いが重なるまで待てずに, 悔しいけど好きって純情” It had to do something! It released the Calamus Root in store within its mouth, ready to spit it out, before Sayonara Kodoku picked the Ocean Soul up, shut its mouth tight, and tossed it over to Pork Soda. With a thrust of its fingers, the porcine stand pierced the Ocean Soul’s eyes, blinding it. Then, the two stands rushed at it, sending forwards a barrage of blows, breaking bones, claws, and disorientating it, before getting ready for a finisher. Pork Soda picked the Ocean Soul up by its tail and began spinning around, the rapid movement disorientating the fish and sending it closer and closer to its doom. No, no! It couldn’t let this be! The Ocean Soul was a hunter, and even if its prey had gotten a leg up on it this time, it wasn’t going to give up! It could barely remain conscious under the pressure as the porcine stand spun it around, its already severe wounds getting exacerbated, but it had to do something! Just one shot! Just one precise shot and it could use the opportunity to escape, to recover! The porcine stand was spinning it around by its tail, so the Ocean Soul could calculate the stand’s position! It just needed to regain its bearings, focus on getting a shot aimed, and it could use its spit to- SLAM! With a brutal impact, the Ocean Soul was slammed into a nearby rock. It felt itself sinking in the water as the two stands approached it, its imminent doom coming closer and closer with every movement they made. It needed to escape, but it couldn’t bring itself to move. The two stands made their way towards it, floating above the ground as they loomed over the barely conscious beast. Was this going to be it for the Ocean Soul? “微熱の中 ためらってもダメだね, 飛び込む勇気に賛成 まもなく start!” Like hell it was. Gathering the little remaining energy it had, the Ocean Soul spat out the Calamus Root stored within its mouth, mixed with its saliva. Hitting the ground underneath the two stands, two long spikes quickly sprouted out of it and towards their bodies. Though Sayonara Kodoku’s tough skin didn’t get pierced, the force of the growing spike sent it flying into the air, incapacitating it, if only for a moment. Meanwhile, Pork Soda wasn’t as lucky as it, the spike piercing through the left side of its body, tearing through its left leg and shoulder. The Ocean Soul couldn’t hear anything from underwater, but it was sure that its user was reeling in pain right about now. Using the remainder of its energy, the Ocean Soul bolted away, desperately trying to remain conscious as it swam away from what it once considered its prey. It didn’t even look backwards, fearing that doing so would give its opponents the time they needed to finish it off for good. It didn’t even keep track of how far it swam, or for how long its opponents had chased it, or if they had done so at all. Its body was searing in pain, broken bones and wounds all over it. Eventually, it couldn’t bring itself to swim any further, losing consciousness and sinking down into the ocean, not even the searing pain keeping it awake as it began to rest. The Ocean Soul had lost, but this wasn’t the end of the beast. Though barely, it had managed to escape this encounter with its life. The results are in for Match 10. The winner is… ‘Agnes’ Bayley and Prince Cosmo, with a score of 80 to the Ocean Soul’s 60!
Category
Winner
Point Totals
Comments
Popularity
Players
25-5
The word of the voterbase was clear: the vast majority felt that the Ocean Soul was handily defeated by the players.
“AAAAGH! GODDAMIT, STUPID FUCKING FISH!!” Agnes screamed in pain while clutching his leg, body strewn onto the nearest island, carried by Sayonara Kodoku. “IT STABBED THROUGH MY GODDAMN LEG!! FROM THE FOOT, TO MY WAIST, TO MY FUCKING SHOULDER! AAARGH, DAMMIT, WHERE’S JENNY WHEN YOU NEED HER!!” “You should be happy we got away with our lives. The Ocean Soul isn’t going to come finish us off any time soon after what we did to it.” “OH, REAL RICH COMING FROM THE ONE WHO DIDN’T GET STABBED IN THE FUCKING LEG BY THAT MONSTER. DO YOU WANT ME TO STAB YOU AS WELL SO YOU CAN SEE HOW IT FEELS?!” Agnes started rummaging around his surroundings with his right hand, searching for a sharp object to use for his “demonstration”. “Frankly, you deserve it. Don’t forget that you are the cause for this all. Were it not for your foolishness, Webb would still be alive, and this would not have happened to you.” Cosmo chided. “PFFF- WHATEVER!” In between his heavy breathing and pained cries, Agnes let out an audible sigh. “Fffffuck this, I’m gonna check my phone to see if there’s any connection here so that we can get the hell out of this place ASAP!” Agnes picked up his phone and pulled it up, taking a look at it. “That will not be necessary. There is no connection here anyways, and I am certain that a helicopter has been sent out to retrieve us, or at the very least ascertain what might have happened to-” “Shut up, I’m getting a message from Cairo. ‘Don’t worry, Agnes, we have sent your location over to Vitus, and help should arrive in about fifteen minutes.’” Agnes looked at his phone in confusion. “Vitus? Who’s that asshole?” “Vitus is the man who sent the helicopters out. The one which you indirectly crashed. Nonetheless, let me see that - I have a hard time believing that your phone is capable of picking up a signal when we’re so far away from any cellular towers.” “And why should I care about what you believe, huh? Here, take a look for yourself!” Agnes shoved the phone in front of Cosmo's face, the dog looking intently at it and seeing… nothing beyond a simple homescreen. “What is this supposed to be. This is your phone’s home screen, and though that horrendous chimera at its center is an affront to anything and everything I believe in, there is no notification here. Could it be that you are perhaps hallucinating from the pain?” “Wh- you can’t see it?! Don’t fuck with me!” Looking at the dog’s deadpan expression, Agnes could tell that that wasn’t the case. He looked over at the phone, spotting it right there, as clear as day - a notification for an sms from Cairo themselves, containing what he read out loud! “Fuck you, I’m not hallucinating! If anything, you are!” Cosmo was about to retort, when he spotted something over the distance - a sailboat. It was old and decrepit, seemingly having gone through significant damage and yet still remaining intact, somehow. It clearly didn’t belong to Vitus, and likely wasn’t Cairo’s either. On the boat, he saw a silhouette of a haggard man, but the distance meant that he couldn’t exactly tell exactly what he looked like. “Someone is coming.” It wouldn’t be much longer before Agnes and Cosmo were able to get back onland, learn what terrible things they’d missed, even if they still had a wait and a talk ahead of them. Left to nurse grievous wounds, this seaborne menace has seen this chapter of aggression momentarily closed, but further inland, the waters of a laundromat are being braved by a time traveler and a woman in chains. Scenario: Sound’s Garden Eastern Strip - A Golden Limousine The evening was beginning to set in, the lights of the islands of the area beginning to flash on and dot the sky as two women rode through the city, looking out through the windows as they relaxed in luxury. Cybil Antoine was one to travel in style, and now, with a companion in tow, was no exception. “A strip that absolutely comes alive at night… Makes me feel almost nostalgic for Vegas,” her redheaded travel companion mused as she looked out, “speakin’ of which… you ever play anything like that, Cyby? Cards, slots, so on. We could try Heartache Casino, maybe, if we have time sometime… I bet you’d just have to throw your name around to get up on its higher floors.” “It’s Cybil,” the wealthy woman emphasized, with an exhaustion begotten by this having been far from the first time, “or Miss Antoine… Either way, I am not a ‘Cyby.’ Get it right next time, alright?” “Right, yeah, I know you’ve told me… I’m just a nicknamer by heart. Cross my heart, though! It won’t happen again!” Alexis Williams seemed… As serious as she could get about something like that, as curiously carefree, even devil-may-care, as the performer could get. “Commit it to memory, then. Despite how much a fool you can act, I’m sure you know how much I had to pull to get you onto this stage.” “Believe me, I do appreciate it!” Alexis answered, focus now turned away from the topic of gambling and onto that. “Putting on a show at one of the biggest stages in Los Fortuna, bigger than anything I’ve done before… I know our group has had some bad luck lately, with Bucket causing that trouble down at the fish market, and how down on herself Leo has been since that dumb show she said she got roped into, but we’re still the freakin’ Judecca Highrollers, right? I want to show the world that, and from their box, I want to show the rest of our team that we’ve got no better option than to face it all with a grin.” “How very like you,” Cybil answered, neutral in her tone, careful not to betray the affection in such a statement as she pondered their current status, where they would be playing. Alexis wouldn’t be headlining, unfortunately, though admittedly, her act wasn’t the sort of thing that did that anyway. Rather, a certain piece of immensely beloved local talent, a rocking performer who went by TD/MD, would be having her play immediately before her at the Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater, just a drive over a rapidly approaching bridge away. Cybil had been a little annoyed that one of her statues had been overshadowed by a plane crashing near it, not to mention had a desire to spread further the local influence of their team, and so she had arranged with the heads of the entertainment industry of Los Fortuna to see to it that her personal favorite performer among the allies and associates she’d made was onstage at the best possible place for a person wanting to be noticed. She curled her lips at a cell phone which found its way to its hand, then, narrowing her eyes at its screen. “No word back from your backing band… Where are they? How inconsiderate not to send word on this, especially at how that Mr. Sins recommended them so glowingly.” “I’m sure they’ll show,” Alexis answered, “and if not… We can make do, can’t we?” “Of course,” Cybil answered, only to have her eye finally drawn back out the window by the sight of a vehicle which had pulled into the lane directly next to theirs as their limousine crossed the bridge. Another golden limousine was directly next to them now, this one almost pointedly bigger, longer, more decked out in jewelry, and it seemed to be headed exactly the same way. Cybil, rather than confused or alarmed at the coincidence, simply thought aloud, “that would probably be Mr. Sins… Speak of the devil.” “Amazing how quickly his casino recovered from nearly burning down…” Alexis mused aloud. “I heard that one of the people who trashed it sent him to the hospital, too.” “An overreaction I’m certain, from what I know about the man. Absolutely terrified of a little pain, a little elbow grease… I’m not one to gossip, but I can’t help but wonder how a man like him even managed to become so prominent, so consistently successful.” “Right,” Alexis answered, smirking and putting her finger up to her lips, “I won’t spread that around, then. I know how to schmooze with that type if the need arises.” Los Fortuna Canals - The SS Sledge Sister Admiral Pineapples was more comfortable on his own boat, but as far as the fleet of the Masters of Funky Action went, there was no real reason to send out more than one boat for this right now. “Man, I can’t believe nobody else is ridin’ with me,” his companion, Rudolf Pavlova, said after downing an entire bottle of water in a single gulp, on the tail end of an hourlong keytar solo. “The rest of the Masters better at least make it to the Alexander! It’d really bum me out harder than when Wrenn shot me down if none a’them made it!” Sorry, but I’m really more the headlining type! Playing second-fiddle to a man in a speedo opening for some local star sounds fun and all, but, I’d totally just overshadow them, I bet! So I should really probably stay out of it! That sentence, clear in its passive-aggressive scathingness, had put Wrenn Aflight’s declining of this gig pretty succinctly. As the man more or less everybody on the team could tolerate, listen to, and generally have a good time with, Admiral had been tasked with asking the other star performer of the team to join Rudolf on the gig he’d accepted opening up for locally beloved rock star and all-around idol TD/MD. Not wanting to break Rudolf’s heart, he more or less told him the short version, ‘he couldn’t make it,’ and then volunteered his own services for the younger man. “You won’t be out there with none of your allies, though, Nureyev! For I, Admiral Pineapples, will aid you in coordinating every moment of your work! This will be one of the worthiest usages of my tactical mind in a long time, I’m sure!” “I hope you’ve gotten those hour-long solos out of your system now, Nureyev,” Pineapples warned with an amused, lax tone, “you’re only going to have thirty minutes onstage before the headliner has to get ready, and there’ll be trouble if you bleed into that.” “I know, I know,” Rudolf answered, casually, as he slipped into an open-chested bathrobe mainly meant to function as the legal requirement of public decency until it was time to perform, “I’m not one to step on anyone’s toes, let alone the star of the show. Live and let live, yeah?” “I’m curious, though, and you never told me…” The Admiral asked, cracking open a beverage of his own and taking a sip, “how did you manage to get such a part as this in the first place?” “Oh, that’s simple!” Rudolf said, the thought to answer having simply not occurred to him. A few weeks ago - A beach in the Waterfront District. “Alright! Thank you, Los Fortuna! I’m here all day, and all night, and all tomorrow too, baby! Party never stops!” Rudolf had just finished the latest of his performances to a small crowd of beachgoers, shredding through the end of his one-man keytar rendition of 2112 and transitioning into a truly epic medley of the extended Family Guy, American Dad, and Cleveland Show OPs. As the crowd dispersed, a corporate suit-looking type of guy, bronze-skinned with neatly-groomed hair, remained, eyeing his keytar curiously and smiling artificially. “That was an excellent show, Mr… Pavlova, I think it was? You have such an undeniable energy about you that I can see when I lay eyes upon you… You’ve star material.” “Am I being poached?” Rudolf asked, tilting his head, “‘cuz I assure you, I am a free agent! Not about to be scooped up by some label and forced to chill out the party churnin’ out music I don’t feel in my soul.” “Nothing so abrupt, no… I’m a Manager, representing TD/MD. You can call me Thutmose. Anyway, she has a concert approaching rapidly, and we’re struggling and scrambling to find local, new talent and performers to open for her. We’ve managed to secure a lot of artists already, but the most important spot… Playing right before her… That, still, we have a particular need for, and I think you would serve it perfectly.” “So I accepted!” In the present day, Rudolf finished, “why not, yeah? I can spread the party to tens of thousands at one of the biggest venues in town!” “Scouted on the street, hm… That’s awfully lucky.” Something about this struck Admiral as odd, but he supposed it was all the more reason it was good he was backing his friend and ally up. He had a strong hunch there was more to it than appeared. Rudolf’s party yacht would disembark soon, ported on the central-most island of the places which made up Sound’s Garden, and the party would make their way forward from there. Sound’s Garden West Side - Outside the Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater At the same time, a self-important first step was taken out of a pair of golden limousines, one a heel clacking first out of it and a short, stocky woman in pinstripe emerging, the other dress shoes leading up to a tall, lean man in a gold and yellow tux, grinning and running a hand through his slicked-back hair. Cybil Antoine hadn’t had the “pleasure” of a personal conversation with Tigran Sins before, but had happened to overhear some of him during her meeting with that Thutmose man, and then and there, she had known everything about him, and knew that she had already had the displeasure of knowing dozens of men like him. Still, though, one needed to be cordial in times like this, so as Alexis came out behind her, and a very strongly built-looking, mean-looking man with brown hair and a nice vest, attached to the lapel of which was a Heartache Casino brooch (a bouncer? A bodyguard?) stood by Tigran waiting to see what he wanted or what he did, she approached the man who dared to try and be more golden than her Stand. “Mr. Sins, I believe… I believe we’ve crossed paths, briefly, but we didn’t really have a chance to speak.” The man tensed a bit, only to relax slightly again when he saw that Cybil intended only to speak. “Cybil Antoine, right? I’ve heard you’ve been making a hell of a lot of waves around town lately, so I must say I’m excited to meet you too.” He looked back past her, towards Alexis standing and stretching outside of her team’s limo. “Would that be your star you’ve got going on? Certainly she’s got charm.” “Hi, right in front of you,” Alexis answered, teasingly passive-aggressively waving, “yeah, I’m going up before TD/MD.” “She’s a very important star around here, you know… So you’d better put on a show that leaves them wanting for more of the best.” Tigran’s attendant spoke, then, sounding dead serious as he looked them over. “A lot of people have come here just for this, just for her sake… It is completely imperative you keep that in mind.” Tigran simply nodded, concurring, “couldn’t have said it better myself, Fox.” Shortly after that, the pairs went their separate ways, shifting through VIP areas of the area of the main structure of the amphitheater, series of comfortably shielded stadium halls that it was. “Still no sign of the band… Still no word from them either. I’m cross now.” Alexis, then, stopped in her trail, looking at a schedule which had been printed out and emblazoned upon a green room wall. “Uh, Cybil, you’re gonna wanna take a look at this.” “Hm?” Cybil raised an eyebrow, turning to face what her partner was pointing at, and then glared again. “Who the hell is Nureyev, and why are they listed at the same time as you?” “There’s gotta be some kinda mixup or somethin’, man… I know about this ‘Alexis Williams’ it talks about, and hear she’s a Vegas Performer, damn fine one at that who can really strut her stuff. But we ain’t in Vegas at all, so what gives?” Rudolf himself was gesturing at a printout version of much the same piece of programming, he and Admiral Pineapples having wandered much the same series of halls. “Hrm…” Admiral, now, took a look at the sheet himself, combing over the names before Rudolf on the list and speaking names aloud. “‘Arancini,’ ‘Tenacious-er E,’ ‘Guy and the Fieris’ Heavy Metal Barbershop Quarter,’ all as scheduled… What the hell? Yeah. We’re the only acts double-booked like this, and you say you don’t know this woman personally?” “Not in the slightest,” Rudolf said, “never laid personal eyes upon her! So maybe there’s a typo, yeah… I know! We could track down Thutmose! But, uh… Where the hell’s Thutmose right now?” A distorted voice shout-whispered, “I heard that he was visiting TD/MD’s green room.” “Huh? Oh, thanks!” Rudolf accepted that advice uncritically, beginning to make his way, but Pineapples looked, at least, in the direction it came from, seeing then flashes of a short-looking person in a maroon turban, face bandaged but mouth section bulging with something hidden underneath, and a pair of aviator goggles, as well as a tunic, trousers, and many bulky scarves adorned in the forms of climbing stick figures. Looking at the man, Pineapples couldn’t help but feel suspicious, but hell, there was a lot shady going on here. “Yes, thank you, Mister… Who am I thanking?” “No,” the figure answered dismissively, “think little of it… I’m just another interested party watching the show. If there’s confusion, then, I want to see it resolved fast! If you’ll excuse me, though, I need to make my way to my box…” “Strange man…” Pineapples shook his head, not wanting to leave Rudolf alone to deal with this strange situation. He knew from hearsay and rumor that there were some truly dangerous things lurking in the bowels of Sound’s Garden, and Rudolf, more heart than head, was bound to be barreling into it. Sound’s Garden - The largest and nicest green room in the halls of the Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater. Metra Doria sat before a makeup chair as assistants fussed and fussed with her hair, her face, her clothes, occasionally being met with polite thanks, compliments, or idle chit-chat, representing a sort of familiarity the team had had with the pale, short-dark-haired girl with a single blue streak through her front left locks. She stared at her own dressed-up eyes in the mirror, one silver, one blue and at once black-striped through the iris. As she sat here, initially clad pretty casually and low-key, she was Metra, but as the outfit she had selected was put together, she would become TD/MD. She was being cordial before now, but all of the small talk had ended as soon as her manager came into the scene, knocking, being invited to come in, and then doing so. “How’s the show going, Thutmose? I wish I could see Guy and the Fieris do their thing, but… Makeup, I swear.” “There’s… People insisting upon speaking, Metra. They’re performers, the ones before you, and they seem annoyed. I tried to shoo them away and tell them to work it out, but that only incensed the old-timers with them, and now they want to speak to you. I tried telling them it was a waste of your time, but-” “This close to going on?” Metra narrowed her eyes at the reflected form of her manager. Always, it was one thing after another with this guy. Though most of the time, one might assume there was something not worth it going on here, she knew Thutmose well enough to know there might be problems. She sighed, shutting her eyes now. “It had better be important… Let ‘em in.” And like that, a quartet of two twenty-somethings, a middle-aged woman, and an old man barreled in through the door at once, all talking over one another and expressing confusion with the other’s very existence and presence. It was making the half-prepared girl more uncomfortable than sitting in a chair for awhile just to get ready for a show often did, so she raised her voice, calmly but authoritatively, literally seeming to drown out their babbling in the process. “Quiet down, alright?! One at a time.” There was a little more whispering among the four, then, and it was the pinstripe-suited woman who stepped forward among them to speak the crowd’s mind. “TD/MD, I presume… This ‘Thutmose’ man, he has made a grave mistake in the scheduling. My associate Alexis here, and this half-nude man carrying a keytar around, they have not met before today, and they certainly did not intend to collaborate before you. Your manager has refused to listen to reason about this, so we are taking the matter straight past him to you… Resolve it at once, and we can be on our way.” “What?” Metra, facing them all, blinked, shaking her head and glaring at Thutmose. “Again? How does this keep happening? You overbook acts right before me, and it’s such a disaster I’ve started to need to allot extra time to cleanup guys after those sets… It was bad enough before, but it’s seriously getting out of hand, man. I can’t keep dealing with you if you treat everyone else you deal with like this. You’re done working with me. We’re through.” “B-but… But Metra..!” Thutmose was flabbergasted, looking almost terrified at the prospect. “Please, be reasonable..! I need this job, understand? I’ve got gambling debts, and-” “Whoa whoa whoa,” the keytarist (Rudolf, or Nureyev, according to the program) interjected then, “let’s not ruin a man’s life over me and Lexy here, yeah? I looked into the history of this place, the Alexander Dickinson… Named after a big dead deal Philanthropist, so basically a dude from the 90's who gave his all to culture in this city, funded all kinds’a stuff! Would a man like that want a man to be fired in his own memorial stadium?” The logic seemed to confuse nearly everyone there, not least of all Metra, whose response, after a moment, was, “Huh? You… Are you saying it doesn’t bother you?” “He’s saying that!” Thutmose pleaded. “I am certain he’s saying that!” “I don’t mind, either…” The redheaded Alexis said next, nodding and looking around at nothing in particular. “Yeah, I think we can work with that… The band he set us up with bailed on us anyway, right? So… Music might help, and it’s not like the things we do step on each other’s toes, yeah? So whatever, I’m sure we’ll still leave a bigger impression.” Cybil, then, pursed her lips. “If it doesn’t make a difference to you, then, and we’re all on the same page… But still, this is so very inconvenient.” “Agreed…” Pineapples looked to Thutmose. “Be more responsible in the future, aye? I think even if you keep your job right now, you’re gonna be on thin ice for now. And give up on gambling, if it’s sunken you this far.” Metra nodded. “Agreed. I can’t guarantee I won’t start looking for a new manager, but… You’ve been good to me, at least. Clean up your act.” Then, she looked over the quartet. “I’m seriously sorry about this… You say you had backup, but they’re not showing up now? I, uh… I don’t know what happened to whoever those were, or why they fell through, but I have something I can do to help both of your shows exist at once: six of the best stagehands I've got.” At that, the star snapped her fingers, and from the shadowy corners of the room emerged two trios, three men in a pose one well-versed on incidents in the early 20th century Roman Colosseum might compare to Awakening One’s Masters appearing before the Masters of Funky Action, three women in turn also sliding in before the Judecca Highrollers in perfect sync, stepping in with the coordination one might associate with, as a weird example, teenage mobsters jazzed about a dude being sent to the ninth circle of hell. All six were muscular, clad in black sleeveless shirts, leather gloves, pants, boots, and bandannas over their heads, and all around, they gave off auras of immense reliability. “Harry, Mark, and John, and Thorn, Dusk, and Luna… I kid you not, these guys can basically do anything and everything you ask of them. If they didn’t much prefer supporting other people to being in the limelight themselves, they would be as big as I am. Treat them well, they’ll learn fast, and they’ll be invaluable to making your bits work. But, uh… I’d hurry it up. Guy and the Fieris probably only have a couple more encores in them, and then you’ll have fifteen to set up. I wish you all luck..!” Metra Doria had been a bit of a miracle for the grateful performers and put-off older supporters, who had in turn both begun to explain their intended strategies and how those might change to their crew members, who understood alarmingly fast. “Man…” Rudolf whistled in relief, chuckling. “What a scare that was… But you, Lexy? You’re alright, actually.” “Thanks,” Alexis answered in turn, still trying to figure this guy out, “you don’t seem bad yourself… I almost kinda feel bad that we’re gonna totally eclipse you out there.” “Y’think so, huh?” Rudolf answered with a grin, pointing forward with a friendly competitiveness. “Well, the party don’t get drowned out by a damn thing! I’m gonna get all these good people pumped as hell, and they’ll be cheerin’ for me even when that Metra chick goes on!” “Ooh, I’m starting to feel a bit competitive…” Alexis answered, good-naturedly chuckling and folding her arms. “Wanna see who gets the crowd more pumped? Loser, uh… Buys the winner overpriced concert t-shirts. These things need stakes, right? Heh…” At the somewhat tongue-in-cheek suggestion, Rudolf nodded. “Sure, yeah! That, and the pride of bein’ one of the best in the city! May the best team win!” OPEN THE GAME! Location:The Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater, one of the biggest outdoor venues in the entirety of the Metropolitan area, in the buildup to TD/MD’s headlining act, wherein both of your teams have had a performer set to open for her. The place is packed at a capacity of tens of thousands of people. The stage is a competently designed semicircle which is roughly 30 meters across for length and maximum width, with plenty of room all over and the various necessary fixtures upheld off the ground. It is raised up about 2 meters off the ground. Its back half is partially covered by the overhanging roof of the backstage area a dozen meters above. The backstage area spreads out about 10 meters from both sides and the back of the stage, being somewhat indoorsy and absolutely full of things one could expect an excellent stage production to have, including, of course, sturdy rafters which lead up to the ceiling area overtop the stage. Both sides have had time to arrange for some extra things to be brought in. Goal: With a leadup of fifteen minutes before acts, and a half an hour where both of your performers are onstage at once, you have a show to put on, and that is not getting ruined by this overbooking. So, with Rudolf and Alexis up on stage, and Pineapples and Cybil each operating their abilities and managing a three-person stage crew, outperform your opponents! Given the vastly different skill-sets of the competitors, the goal is to execute on your vision better than your opponent executes on theirs. You will be judged and voted on the following criteria, in decreasing priority:
Feasibility - Whether your performance is actually within the bounds of what your Stand and Stats would imply.
Skill Use - A close second in relevance; how well you integrate your User Skills and Stats into your performance. While your Skills will help in completing this objective, they do not provide an automatic advantage by merely existing and must be woven into your strats, as per usual. Even the best of artists can have abysmal live performances.
Stand Use - Similar to the above, and similarly important. How cool, creative, and well-integrated is your Stand use. Put another way, wow the judges, voters, and viewers at home! This is more or less just the same as before.
Environment Use - How well you use and integrate the auditorium - its features, its backstage, its stage, and the hearts and passions of its occupants - into your performance.
Efficiency - How much quality footage you obtain and how well you use your time. This does not mean that setup for more complex performances is automatically penalized, but do try to minimize ‘deadtime’ and maximize the amount you perform.
Additional Information: There is a huge simp for TD/MD in the audience of the match, and he is connected enough that he will have both of you successfully and canonically killed if you ruin the show before the headliner can go on; therefore, murdering your opponents or audience members (“the ol’ Abraham Lincoln Tech” as they say in the biz) on an audience member is a loss condition. Not at all a moral thing for the record. Stage Crew members for the respective teams (Harry, Mark, and John on the MFAs, Thorn, Dusk, and Luna on the Highrollers, if you care about their names) have 4s in strength, agility, endurance, Stagehand, and Backup; pretty much, anything their associated team asks them to do, they’ll be able to do, at minimum, competently. Though they won’t, like, murder for you. Generally you can use them for moving props on/off stage, extra bodies or on-stage back up performers, speaker and soundboard control, and/or on-stage camera crew as well as managing any other stage controls. Pretty much everything save for pyronetics and lighting is in their purview. There are also dedicated lighting guys, totally neutral in your squabbles, who are going to do an entirely too good job adjusting their focus and making things work exactly as is needed so attention is on the stars of the show. They will also be coordinated with a third party camera crew that will be streaming the live feed onto screens for the audience. These feeds can be replaced or split screened with your own crew’s footage, but otherwise they will generally be in control of what is shown on-screen. Players can be assumed to already have well-rehearsed their plans of action, the in-universe basis for the modified plans of the match, and have knowledge about every aspect of the stage, even if parts of their initial plan obviously need to be modified to account for new challengers also occupying stage space. If something performance related isn’t insanely, “years of training to do competently required” level hard, but would still require some practice ahead of time, they have had it to, at absolute max, somewhere between a 2 and a 3. Players, don’t overly-game this, though; the ‘stars’ of your performances should be the sheeted unique abilities of you, your skills, and your Stands. All stands can be seen on camera and on the live feed for the audience's viewing pleasure.
“This one is for the guy who keeps yelling from the Balcony, and it’s called ‘We Hate You, Please Die.’” Gymnastics is a sport of rhythm and pace, this performance should be no different for keeping your momentum. Make as seamless transitions as you can between the acts of your performance!
“Prepare to have your minds obliterated by… The boys! And Crash!” You have a whole crew of people working for you here, no need to do any heavy lifting by yourself. This is their job after all, better put them to work since that’s what they are here for. Make the most use out of your stage hands in your performance!
“What is with this band? They’ve… changed. Have you noticed they don’t have instruments? Where’s all this amazing noise coming from?” Keeping the audience’s attention for a full 30 minutes should be a piece of cake for the world’s greatest dancer, you can keep the party rocking even between your different acts. Make as seamless transitions as you can between the acts of your performance!
“You and your fireballs and your demon hipster chicks / you’re talking the talk and it’s pretty slick / You think you’re so great, but you’re missing the point / You gotta have friendship and courage and whatever!” You’re all in this show together, you and your crew of stage hand. Everybody should be contributing here, no man left behind. Make the most use out of your stage hands in your performance!
Link to the Official Player Spreadsheet Link to Match Schedule As always, if you would like to interact with the tournament community and be among the first to get updates for the tournament, please feel free to PM a member of our Judge staff for an invite to our Official Discord Server!
The COMPLETE Year-By-Year Jamiroquai Tour History META | Year #19-#20: 2010-2011
Hello Jamiroquai! This is the thirteenth META post for a new expansive series I have been wanting to do for some time for the subreddit, "The COMPLETE Year-By-Year Jamiroquai Tour History META'! This information will be eventually added to the Jamiroquai WIKI Page in it's entirety in the future but for the time being, it will be a recurring post series. All of this information is being imparted to us from the Funkin Site fansite, massive thanks to my pal David Rowe for collecting all this important tour information during the nearly past +30 years of the band history, I hope everyone in the Reddit Jamily enjoys this & MUCH MORE TO COME! Cheers Reddit Jamily!
The COMPLETE Year-By-Year Jamiroquai Tour History META | Year #19-#20: 2010-2011:
2010
Date Of Gig
Country
Concert & Additional Info
24 Jun 10 (Thu)
UK, London, Debut London
Performed: Revolution, When You Gonna Learn, If I Like It I Do It, Light Years, Virtual Insanity, Too Young To Die, Little L, Alright, Hooked Up, Corner Of The Earth, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Rock Dust Light Star, Love Foolosophy, Just Another Story, Deeper Underground. Exclusive 'warm-up' gig two days prior to the band supporting Stevie Wonder at the Hard Rock Calling event in London's Hyde Park.
26 Jun 10 (Sat)
UK, London, Hyde Park, Hard Rock Calling
Performed: Revolution, When You Gonna Learn, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Too Young To Die, Little L, Alright, Hooked Up, Space Cowboy, Love Foolosophy, Deeper Underground. Jamiroquai are one of the support acts for Stevie Wonder, who headlines the second day of this three day festival in central London.
02 Jul 10 (Fri)
France, Arras, Main Square Festival
Performed: Revolution 1993, When You Gonna Learn, If I Like It I Do It, Light Years, Cosmic Girl, Black Capricorn Day, Little L, Alright, Love Foolosophy, Deeper Underground
11 Jul 10 (Sun)
Hungary, Zamardi, Balaton Sound Festival
Performed: Revolution 1993, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, Little L, Alright, Hooked Up, Corner Of The Earth, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Rock Dust Light Star, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
14 Jul 10 (Wed)
Switzerland, Locarno, Moon and Stars Festival
Performed: Revolution, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, Little L, Alright, Hooked Up, When You Gonna Learn, Blow Your Mind, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Rock Dust Light Star, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
16 Jul 10 (Fri)
Italy, Naples, Neapolis Festival
Performed: Revolution, High Times, If I like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, Little L, Alright, Blow Your Mind, When You Gonna Learn, Hooked Up, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Rock Dust Light Star, Canned Heat, Love Foolosophy, Deeper Underground
18 Jul 10 (Sun)
France, Carhaix, Festival des Vieilles Charrues
Performed: Revolution, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, Little L, Alright, Black Capricorn Day, When You Gonna Learn, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
19 Jul 10 (Mon)
France, Carcassonne, Grand Theatre
Performed: Revolution, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, Little L, Alright, Hooked Up, When You Gonna Learn, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
21 Jul 10 (Wed)
France, Nimes, Nimes Arena
Performed: Revolution, When You Gonna Learn, If I Like It I Do It, Light Years, Little L, Cosmic Girl, Alright, Virtual Insanity, Rock Dust Light Star, Too Young To Die, Space Cowboy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
23 Jul 10 (Fri)
Switzerland, Paleo Festival
Performed: Revolution, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, Little L, Alright, Hooked Up, When You Gonna Learn, Just Another Story, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Rock Dust Light Star, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
24 Jul 10 (Sat)
Austria, Vienna, Nova Jazz Festival
No Info
26 Jul 10 (Mon)
Monaco, Monte Carlo, Sporting Club
Performed: Blow Your Mind, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, Little L, Alright, Hooked Up, When You Gonna Learn, Black Capricorn Day, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
27 Jul 10 (Tue)
Monaco, Monte Carlo, Sporting Club
Performed: You Give Me Something, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, Little L, Alright, Hooked Up/Just Another Story, When You Gonna Learn, Black Capricorn Day, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Rock Dust Light Star, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground. This is the second of two gigs at the Monte Carlo Sporting Club.
29 Jul 10 (Thu)
Belgium, Tienen, Suikerrock Festival
Performed: Revolution, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, You Give Me Something, Little L, Alright, Black Capricorn Day, When You Gonna Learn, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
06 Aug 10 (Fri)
Portugal, Sudoeste Festival
No Info
09 Sep 10 (Thu)
UK, London (Knightsbridge), Mandarin Oriental Hotel
Performed: Love Foolosophy, Smokin Mirrors, LifeLine, Hurtin, Rock Dust Light Star, Blue Skies, White Knuckle Ride. Exclusive press/record-company 'showcase' gig to promote the album Rock Dust Light Star.
28 Sep 10 (Tue)
UK, London, BBC Television Studios, Later with Jools Holland (tv) (broadcast date)
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Blue Skies, Deeper Underground
09 Oct 10 (Sat)
Colombia, Bogota, Nem Catacoa Festival
No Info
12 Oct 10 (Tue)
Brazil, Programa do Jo (tv) (broadcast date)
Performed: White Knuckle Ride, Love Foolosophy. Paul Turner did not perform with the band for this television appearance. His place was taken by Dale Davis.
16 Oct 10 (Sat)
Brazil, Sao Paulo, Natura Nos Festival
Performed: Revolution, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Rock Dust Light Star, Little L, Alright, White Knuckle Ride, Black Capricorn Day, When You Gonna Learn, Cosmic Girl, Blue Skies, Love Foolosophy, Rock Dust Light Star (second version), Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
20 Oct 10 (Wed)
UK, London (Kentish Town), Forum
Performed: Revolution, High Times, Rock Dust Light Star, Little L, Alright, Corner of the Earth, White Knuckle Ride, Black Capricorn Day, Cosmic Girl, Blue Skies, Love Foolosophy, Hurtin', Canned Heat, Deeper Underground. This concert is one of a series of concerts as part of the 'Q Awards 2010.'
22 Oct 10 (Fri)
Switzerland, Basel, Festival Hall, AVO Session Basel
Performed: Revolution, Rock Dust Light Star, Little L, Alright, Cosmic Girl, Black Capricorn Day, Blue Skies, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat
28 Oct 10 (Thu)
Netherlands, Amsterdam, De Wereld Draait Door (tv)
Performed: Blue Skies (acoustic)
29 Oct 10 (Fri)
Netherlands, Amsterdam, Paradiso
Performed: Revolution, High Times, Little L, Alright (slow version), Hurting, Smoke and Mirrors, Black Capricorn Day, Rock Dust Light Star (acoustic), All Good In The Hood, Love Foolosophy, Cosmic Girl, Deeper Underground
31 Oct 10 (Sun)
UK, London (Wembley), The Fountain Studios, The X Factor (tv)
Performed: White Knuckle Ride. After performing Jay said he had 'reservations before appearing on the show' - and I'm sure the female judges did too after reading the 'quotes' that were printed from Jay in the Sun newspaper (UK) the previous day!
02 Nov 10 (Tue)
Italy, The X Factor (tv)
Performed: White Knuckle Ride
04 Nov 10 (Thu)
UK, London, AIR Studios, BBC Radio 2 In Concert
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, High Times, Smoke & Mirrors, Little L, Alright, All Good In The Hood, Love Foolosophy, She's A Fast Persuader, Blue Skies, Deeper Underground. 100 pairs of free tickets to this concert were given away by BBC Radio Two (UK). Concert broadcast on BBC Radio Two.
05 Nov 10 (Fri)
UK, London (Camden Town), Jazz Cafe
Performed: Revolution, High Times, Smoke and Mirrors, Hurtin', All Good In The Hood, Little L, Alright, Love Foolosophy, She's A Fast Persuader, Rock Dust Light Star, Blue Skies, White Knuckle Ride, Cosmic Girl, Deeper Underground. This gig was for winners of a competition organised by HMV.
09 Nov 10 (Tue)
Switzerland, Zurich, Kaufleuten
Tickets can be won via the 20min.ch website. This is a small 'showcase' gig.
15 Nov 10 (Mon)
France,Paris, L'Arc
Performed: Rock Light Dust Star, Smoke & Mirrors, All Good In The Hood, Hurtin', She's A Fast Persuader, Alright, White Knuckle Ride, Love Foolosophy, Deeper Underground. This is a private album launch gig promoted by Virgin Radio in France.
15 Nov 10 (Mon)
France, Paris, Grand Journal de Canal+ (tv)
Performed: White Knuckle Ride, Love Foolosophy, Rock Dust Light Star
20 Nov 10 (Sat)
Australia, Sydney (Point Piper), Take 40 Australia Party
Performed: Hurtin', Cosmic Girl, All Good In The Hood, She's A Fast Persuader, Alright, Love Foolosophy, Deeper Underground. An exclusive mansion house was rented in Point Piper to host the Take 40 Australia/Singstar party. The band performed outside in the garden on a stage built on top of a swimming pool!
21 Nov 10 (Sun)
Australia, Sydney, The X Factor (tv)
Performed: Canned Heat. The band performed Canned Heat and Jay sung alongside X-Factor finalist Sally Chatfield.
22 Nov 10 (Mon)
Australia, Sydney, The X Factor (tv)
Performed: White Knuckle Ride
24 Nov 10 (Wed)
Japan, Tokyo, Refreshing (tv)
Performed: White Knuckle Ride
24 Nov 10 (Wed)
Japan, Tokyo (Shinjuku)
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, White Knuckle Ride. The band performed a short set on a stage set up outside on the streets of Tokyo for the launch of the Azul by Moussy store in Shinjuku. This performance was not officially announced or confirmed, but word spread round and the streets were full of people. Shortly before the band came on stage guitarist Rob Harris tweeted 'About to perform I Shinjuku. Closing down a street, pandemonium.'
28 Nov 10 (Sun)
Germany, Stuttgart, Zapata
Performed: Cosmic Girl, Rock Dust Light Star, Smokin Mirrors, Alright, All Good In The Hood, Hurtin', Lifeline, She's A Fast Persuader, Blue Skies, White Knuckle Ride, Love Foolosophy, Deeper Underground
11 Dec 10 (Sat)
Norway, Oslo, Spektrum Arena, Nobel Peace Prize Concert
Performed: Canned Heat, Lifeline, Virtual Insanity. Following the concert the band performed an impromptu two hour gig at the hotel they were staying at!
2011
Date Of Gig
Country
Concert & Additional Info
21 Jan 11 (Fri)
UK, London, Alan Carr Show (tv) (recording date)
Performed: Lifeline. The show was broadcast on UK television three days after filming.
28 Jan 11 (Fri)
UK, The Sun Sessions (recording date)
Recording of a live 'session' for The Sun newspaper website.
30 Jan 11 (Sun)
UK, London, Comedy Rocks (recording date)
Performed: Lifeline, All Good In The Hood, (and a few little snippets of songs to introduce acts and go in/out of commercial breaks). Jamiroquai are the 'house band' on this ITV comedy television show. The show was recorded on 30 January.
07 Feb 11 (Mon)
France, Paris, Taratata (tv) (recording date)
Performed: Deeper Underground, Rock Dust Light Star, California Soul (by Marlena Shaw), White Knuckle Ride
07 Mar 11 (Mon)
France, Paris, L'Olympia
The band performed a set lasting around 45 minutes at a private show as part of a 15 year celebration of fashion label Paul & Joe during Paris Fashion Week.
18 Mar 11 (Fri)
Switzerland, Zurich, Hallenstadion
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, All Good In The Hood, Use The Force, Hang It Over, When You Gonna Learn, Blue Skies, Virtual Insanity, Smoke n Mirrors, Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Scam, Hey Floyd, Alright, White Knuckle Ride, Feels Just Like It Should
21 Mar 11 (Mon)
Germany, Hamburg, O2 World
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vain, Cosmic Girl, All Good In The Hood, Use The Force, Hang It Over, When You Gonna Learn, Angeline, Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Scam, Hey Floyd, Alright, White Knuckle Ride, Feels Just Like It Should
23 Mar 11 (Wed)
France, Paris, Bercy
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, Smoke & Mirrors, Use the Force, Hang it Over, You Give Me Something, She's a Fast Persuader, Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, (Scam Break), All Good in the Hood, Alright, White Knuckle Ride, Feels Just Like It Should
24 Mar 11 (Thu)
France, CANCELLED: Lyon, Halle Toni Garnier
On the afternoon of the concert the following message was posted at the Jamiroquai facebook page: Due to a tragic accident at the Halle Toni Garnier Arena, the gig at Lyon on 24th March (tonight) is regrettably cancelled. The band were shocked and saddened when told the news, and out of respect immediately felt the right decision was to cancel the show. A police investigation is taking place which would also have prevented the show from happening. We know how disappointed fans will feel, but can only say at this point, the gig will be re-arranged and we will have news of the revised date as soon as possible.
26 Mar 11 (Sat)
Germany, Munich, Olympiahalle
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, All Good In The Hood, Use The Force, You Give Me Something, Hurtin', Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Hey Floyd, Feels Just Like It Should, Alright, White Knuckle Ride
28 Mar 11 (Mon)
Austria, Vienna, Stadthalle
No Info
30 Mar 11 (Wed)
Italy, Milan, Forum
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, Smoke and Mirrors, Use the Force, You Give Me Something, Hurtin, Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Feels Just Like It Should, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, All Good in the Hood, Alright, White Knuckle Ride, When You Gonna Learn
31 Mar 11 (Thu)
Italy, Mantua, Palabam
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, Smoke & Mirrors, Use the Force, You Give Me Something, Hurtin', Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Love Foolosophy, Use the Force, All Good in the Hood, Alright, White Knucle Ride
02 Apr 11 (Sat)
Italy, Turin, Pala Olympico
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, Smoke & Mirrors, Use The Force, You Give Me Something, Space Cowboy, Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, All Good in the Hood, Alright, White Knuckle Ride
03 Apr 11 (Sun)
Italy, Florence, Mandela Forum
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, Smoke & Mirror, Use the Force, You Give Me Something, Hurtin', She's a Fast Persuader, Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, All Good in the Hood, Alright, White Knuckle Ride
05 Apr 11 (Tue)
Luxembourg, Rockhal
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, Smoke & Mirrors, You Give Me Something, Hurtin', Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Love Foolosophy, Space cowboy, Travelling Without Moving, Scam, All Good In The Hood, Alright, White Knuckle Ride
On the day of the concert Jamiroquai.com posted the following message "Unfortunately owing to illness tonights Jamiroquai concert in Oberhausen has had to be cancelled. We apologise for any inconvenience caused and will advise of the rescheduled date for the concert as soon as we can."
13 Apr 11 (Wed)
Netherlands, Rotterdam, Ahoy
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, Smoke & Mirrors, You Give Me Something, Hurtin', Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Space Cowboy, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, All Good In The Hood, Alright, White Knuckle Ride
15 Apr 11 (Fri)
UK, London (Greenwich), O2 Arena
No Info
17 Apr 11 (Sun)
UK, Birmingham, LG Arena
No Info
19 Apr 11 (Tue)
UK, Manchester, MEN Arena
No Info
20 Apr 11 (Wed)
UK, Glasgow, Glasgow SECC
No Info
29 Apr 11 (Fri)
Chile, Santiago, Movistar Arena
No Info
18 May 11 (Wed)
France, Cannes, Hotel Martinez
Private gig during the Cannes Film Festival organised by clothing label Replay.
20 May 11 (Fri)
Argentina, Buenos Aires, Quilmes Rock Festival
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, You Give Me Something, Lifeline, Little L, Canned Heat, Space Cowboy, Feels Just Like It Should, Love Foolosophy, Corner Of The Earth, Travelling Without Moving, Alright, Deeper Underground, White Knuckle Ride
31 May 11 (Tue)
France, Paris, Casino de Paris
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Little L, Canned Heat, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Scam Intro, All Good In The Hood, Alright, Deeper Underground, White Knuckle Ride, Cosmic Girl. Private concert organised by Pression Live.
08 Jun 11 (Wed)
Estonia, Tallin, Saku Arena
No Info
10 Jun 11 (Fri)
Russia, Saint Petersburg, Ice Palace
No Info
12 Jun 11 (Sun)
Russia, Moscow, Crokus City Hall
No Info
14 Jun 11 (Tue)
Ukraine, Kiev, Palace Of Sports
No Info
18 Jun 11 (Sat)
Poland, Warsaw, Orange Festival
No Info
21 Jun 11 (Tue)
Croatia, Zagreb, T-Mobile Festival
No Info
24 Jun 11 (Fri)
Bulgaria, CANCELLED: Razlog, Elevation Festival
Jamiroquai cancelled their appearance at this festival because of an injury to Jay Kay's ankle.
26 Jun 11 (Sun)
Turkey, CANCELLED: Istanbul, Kurucesme Arena
Jamiroquai cancelled their appearance at this festival because of an injury to Jay Kay's ankle.
02 Jul 11 (Sat)
Romania, Mamaia, Orange Summer Party
No Info
03 Jul 11 (Sun)
Former Yugoslavic Republic Of Macedonia, Skopje, Philip-II-Arena
No Info
09 Jul 11 (Sat)
Serbia, Novi Sad, Exit Festival
No Info
13 Jul 11 (Wed)
Germany, CANCELLED: Straubing, Jazz Donau
The concert was unfortunately cancelled on 12 July.
14 Jul 11 (Thu)
Germany, CANCELLED: Mainz, Zollhafen Nordmole
The concert was unfortunately cancelled on 12 July.
16 Jul 11 (Sat)
Switzerland, Bern, Gurten Festival
No Info
17 Jul 11 (Sun)
Germany, Ulm, Radio Festival
No Info
19 Jul 11 (Tue)
France, Arcachon, Velodrome
No Info
21 Jul 11 (Thu)
Italy, Padova, Piazzola Sul Brenta
No Info
22 Jul 11 (Fri)
Italy, Rome, Ippodromo Delle Capannelle
No Info
24 Jul 11 (Sun)
Italy, Lucca, Piazza Napoleone
No Info
26 Jul 11 (Tue)
France, CANCELLED: Bayonne, Arena
This concert was cancelled at the very last minute and the following statement was made the following day. Jay Kay would like to apologise to disappointed fans for the cancellation of last night's show in France. Jay's on-going groin injury has been diagnosed as a hernia which will be need to be operated on later in the summer. Following an MRI scan last week specialists had advised rest but Jay has insisted he wants to try to finish the current run of dates. Doctors have said that provided he manages the pain sufficiently he can continue performing if he feels able. During the course of the past two days the pain flared up again and yesterday he reluctantly decided he did not feel he well enough to perform last night. After two days rest he is hopeful he will be able to complete the remaining 4 shows of the current run, including Toulon tomorrow night. Jay said "I would like to thank fans for their understanding, this is a very frustrating injury and some days the pain is just too extreme to perform to a standard I believe is acceptable. I promise I will do my best to come back out again soon when I'm fully fit and am optimistic I'll be able to pull off the remaining shows of the run."
28 Jul 11 (Thu)
France, Nice, Palais Nikaia
No Info
29 Jul 11 (Fri)
France, Toulon, Six Four Festival
Performed: Black Capricorn Day, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, High Times, Morning Glory, Little L, Canned Heat, All Good In The Hood, Hey Floyd, Feels Just Like It Should, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Scam, Alright, Deeper Underground, White Knuckle Ride
31 Jul 11 (Sun)
Spain, Barcelona, Poble Espanyol
No Info
03 Aug 11 (Wed)
Spain, Malaga (Auditorium Municipal)
No Info
07 Aug 11 (Sun)
Ibiza Privilege Club
No Info
05 Sep 11 (Mon)
Turkey, Istanbul, Kurucesme Arena
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, High Times, Little L, Morning Glory (Intro), Canned Heat, All Good In The Hood, Hey Floyd, Feels Just Like It Should, Love Foolosophy, Use The Force (Interlude), Travelling Without Moving, Scam (Break), Alright, Deeper Underground, White Knuckle Ride
09 Sep 11 (Fri)
Italy, Monza, Stadio Brianteo, F1 Rocks
Event organised as part of the Italian F1 Grand Prix.
29 Sep 11 (Thu)
Brazil, Rio de Janeiro (Barra da Tijuca), Olympic Park Rock City, Rock in Rio
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, High Times, Little L, Morning Glory, Canned Heat, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Deeper Underground, White Knuckle Ride
20 Nov 11 (Sun)
Germany, Oberhausen, Konig Pilsener Arena
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, High Times, Little L, Canned Heat, All Good In The Hood, Hey Floyd, Feels Just Like It Should, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Scam (break), Alright, Deeper Underground. Due to heavy fog in London on the day of the concert the bandmembers arrived at the venue late with no time for a soundcheck. The concert started slightly later than planned and there were many complaints about the sound quality because of the lack of soundcheck. This is the rescheduled concert that was cancelled on 12 April.
22 Nov 11 (Tue)
France, Paris, Bercy
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, High Times, Little L, Canned Heat, All Good In The Hood, Hey Floyd, Dynamite, Feels Just Like It Should, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Alright, Deeper Underground, White Knuckle Ride
23 Nov 11 (Wed)
France, Nantes, Zenith Nantes Metropole
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, High Times, Little L, Canned Heat, All Good In The Hood, Hey Floyd, Use The Force, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Alright, Deeper Underground, White Knuckle Ride
25 Nov 11 (Fri)
France, Strasbourg, Zenith
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, High Times, Little L, Interlude, Canned Heat, All Good In The Hood, Hey Floyd, Use The force, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Alright, Hurtin', Deeper Underground, White Knuckle Ride
27 Nov 11 (Sun)
France, Limoges, Zenith
No Info
28 Nov 11 (Mon)
France, Toulouse, Zenith
No Info
30 Nov 11 (Wed)
France, Lyon
No Info
03 Dec 11 (Sat)
Belgium, CANCELLED: Antwerp, Lotto Arena
The Jamiroquai Facebook page wrote the following on 28 October - "We are sorry to announce the cancellation of the gig at Lotto Arena, Antwerp (Belgium), on 3rd December. This is due to unforeseen logistical problems, which have led to the difficult decision to cancel the gig. We hope to re-arrange the gig in 2012."
JoJo's Bizarre Adventure OC Tournament #5: Round 1 Match 14 Raymond Vs Cy
The results are in for Match 12. “Well, now, that was a treat, wasn’t it? Alright, everyone, get ready for the main event! Bursting into the lane, ready for her adoring fans, give it up loud and clear for…TD/MD!” The crowd went wild, then, as the star emerged, wearing a brightly-shining silver top dotted in acciaccatura symbols, blue shorts and long silver and black socks on her right and left legs accentuating the graceful form of TD/MD. Her eyes, already discolored so drastically from one another, were accentuated with asymmetric eyeshadow, gray and blue, blue dots of makeup underneath the latter left eye, and as she emerged, her left hand, clad in a blue glove with a black line through its center, stretched towards the crowd, her right in a silvery glistening glove moving towards the black headphones around her neck, blue acciaccatura symbols on either outside as other musical symbols, smaller, less prominent, dotted the rest of the thing. There was an obvious extravagance in the outfit made more impressive by its components being relatively simple: a t-shirt, shorts, socks, shoes, and gloves, really. “Whoa, talk about a tough act to follow… And that’s coming from me!” Metra Doria laughed lightly, having emerged to an immensely lively, astonished, applauding audience, applauding the avant-garde show which had led up to her. “Sound’s Garden, am I right? The people this place attracts are some of the most interesting performers I have ever known, and what we all just witnessed, I think, is a perfect preamble, a summation of everything we should aspire to be, of the power to move hearts and souls that music can have! I seriously feel like I need to give the best damn concert of my life now just to be worthy of headlining here… And of course, I can’t play everything alone. Before we start, let’s hear it for my backing band!” “My bassist, Stella Starlight, my drummer, Scott Sundquist, annnnd…” Melodically, that ‘and’ trailed until one of the stagehands from before, clad now in a totally new outfit, emerged. “Luna, on the synth!” With the band introduced to cheers, TD/MD, then, sat before a piano which the rest of the stagehands had moved onstage while the crowd’s eyes were on the star, and a cloud of smoke in their path. “So, Los Fortuna, are! You! Ready?!” The first of many songs that night began. In the chaos of these two disparate teams, both quite surprised by the realization of who they would be sharing their stages with, their independent plans, nonetheless, blended together seamlessly to tell classical comedies of ancient kings and heroes, of fighting and rejecting a tragic end, a bizarre prog rock gymnastic live weapons show tale of the human spirit at its finest. It was often that, thanks to the mishaps of the manager Thutmose, the acts before TD/MD went down in memetic legend, the stuff people spoke about often both on social media and in shady, smoky backrooms. Usually, however, they were spoken of as disasters saved by her star performance, to the point where some wondered if it was on purpose to hype her up more at some poor bastard’s extent. That night, however, a certain performance pierced the hearts of the crowd and brought about complete adoration, even matching the attention of the headliner. As her own show, grand, perfect, putting a tear in the eye of the man who sat beside Tigran Sins in a special box, drew to a close, and the crowd called for an encore, TD/MD spoke into the microphone. “Alright, Los Fortuna, I think I definitely have time for one more song, but… I haven’t forgotten who you were all cheering for earlier. In the time it’s taken, we’ve already seen to it… I’m going to welcome some people back on the stage to join me for this!” Directing her hand stage left, she declared, “‘Nureyev,’ Admiral Pineapples ‘Orpheus,’ ‘Hades,’ and all the best stagehands in the world, get back up here, the whole of you! Let’s close the night off in the best way possible!” The winner is Everyone, with a score of 79!
Category
Winner
Point Totals
Comments
Popularity
Masters of Funky Action
16-14
There were a record number of tie votes this match, but in the end, just barely, MFA pulled ahead in popularity by a singular vote.
After the show, Metra asked the quartet to wait for her outside her green room so they might speak in private as she dressed back down into more casual getup, the four of them and manager Thutmose conversing outside all throughout. “That was legendary,” Rudolf said first, “feel like we really moved hearts out here tonight!” “Even if only for a little while…” Admiral Pineapples agreed, looking over the Highrollers. “It was very nice to work with you, even under such strange circumstances.” “Tens of thousands… It’s still surreal,” Alexis added, “they were cheering for us almost as hard as they were for TD/MD… And I heard they usually end up laughing off the act right before the big headliner?” Cybil simply allowed a smug smile. “I was advocating for you, Alexis, so of course I knew you would defeat such superstitions…” And then, she offered the manager a frown. “Mr. Thutmose. I hope now you’ve learned a lesson about fooling around with people. It is only because we were so amazing that you still have your job right now.” “How humble…” Thutmose answered, chuckling nervously and running his hands through his hair. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll go straight now… I didn’t realize how much this was upsetting Metra, either-” “Thutmose, my boy,” a self-important voice said, announcing his presence an instant before his garish demeanor could assault the eyes of the hangers-around. Tigran Sins, in his gold-yellow checkered suit, approached, that muscular brunette right hand of his, Fox, close by, a sort of warmth on his still quite intimidating face, “you really do know how to pick ‘em. Miss Antoine, Mr. Pavlova, Admiral, and Alexis, you were… I must say, almost sort of in the league of our star.” “Not even close, really,” Fox answered, stepping forward then, a massive bouquet in his hands, a vinyl tucked neatly under his arm, “anyway, Thutmose, let us through. We need to speak with her now… That show was her greatest yet, and she needs to hear it personally from-” “TD/MD isn’t seeing anyone else tonight,” Thutmose answered, the young man standing firmer now, though all four of his companions noticed that he seemed to be shaking. “She’s exhausted after her show, and already needs to make time for others…” He moved to yoink the flowers out of his hands. “I’ll give these to her on your behalf, though, and tell her who it’s from… But she won’t be seeing you.” Like that, the warm demeanor on the intimidating-looking man’s face grew tenser again, and even Tigran seemed to grow frustrated as well, answering next, “are you certain she can’t make time? Fox really needs to speak with her in person.” “Hey, hey, you heard the twink,” Rudolf interjected, stepping in now (“Twink..?” “Yep!”), raising a bathrobe-covered arm, “let’s keep things excellent here and not freak the poor lady out. I hear she’s got a perfect pitch, ya know, so she’s gonna hear it if we’re ruinin’ her night!” Fox folded his arms, Tigran himself looking contemplative, almost stressed, before his accompaniment turned away, seemingly aware of the numbers on the meek man’s side. “Next time, then.” The pair left, and like that, Thutmose nearly collapsed into the wall, exhaling. “I just defied Tigran to his face… Hhehhhh…” He shook his head. “She should be ready by now. I’m gonna go burn these flowers… Maybe start online shopping for walking sticks, ‘cuz I feel like my kneecaps are gonna notice this…” A voice called from the inside, seemingly concurring with the manager’s point. “Coast clear? Alright, come in!” The four entered, seeing Metra sitting there casually in a black hoodie, more fit for the cool evening, with blue sweatpants covered in silver spirals, relaxing into her chair and nursing a bottle of some sports drink with the label peeled away idly. “You four have all shown me pretty definitely what you stand for tonight… You’re cool. I think I can trust you. Have a seat, alright? Let’s hang out, chat a bit. I don’t think I need to tell you there’s a lot in Sound’s Garden that needs talking-about.” For interested parties, as of this going up, there is still a day left to vote in a match between masters of lawful bastard and chaotic bastard energies, both vying to get the other thrown out of a resort. Scenario: A former speakeasy in Hotel Delmano - North Island, Downtown Los Fortuna. Late morning The Baker Street Rat Pack had a good few ideas to advance forward juggling in their heads, now that the city’s issues were rapidly beginning to juggle themselves more and more. North Island PD was still more aggressive under the galvanizing rhetoric of Council Chairman March, none of which seemed to be stopping the serial killer who ran rampant in the region, the districts west of the Wormwood seemed a hotbed of wars between gangs, unions, and the bulk of ODIN’s security forces, and that wasn’t even getting into issues which the BSRP had no relation to, but were indeed aware of. The matter most currently relevant to Cy Syntheta, however, was listening to the concerns and fleeting research of Peter “Treagon” Bequasimodo. “I just don’t get it,” Peter said to them, looking fleetingly at his laptop. “I can’t use my Stand to get out of the city, and now I try to use it to look into this ‘Institute’ here, and can't get into there either. It’s like… They have some sort of Stand User Firewall, in simple, un-hacker terms.” Cy had been sitting and chatting with the self-styled treasonous vegan, having been of the mind of late to actually do something useful, and remembering the hacktivist had been hot on somebody, something or another’s trail. “So you have a clue as to what that ‘from the Institute, Oh No,’ thing meant?” “Better than a clue,” Peter answered, “turns out it literally wasn’t even a riddle. Just a straightforward signoff.” Like that, he stylishly spun his laptop around on a nearby surface, stopping it as the screen faced Cy. “Look for yourself.”
Pezzetti di Cavallo (55, M) - Professor and Representative of School of Law, Chief Prosecutor
CaraMel Dansen (26, F) - Notable Alumnus and Representative of School of Culinary Arts, Acclaimed Confectioner
Million Dollars (37, F) - Professor of Economics, Representative of School of Business, Multimedia Producer
Willard Drankwater (108, M) - Professor of Chemistry, Representative of School of Medicine, Nobel Laureate, Oldest Man in Los Fortuna
Theodore Lloyd (35, M) - Dean and Representative of Arts College, Former Adjunct Professor
Oh No (Age Unknown, M) - Head and Representative of the Midnight Sun Parapsychological Research Institute
Venus York (47, Other) - Professor of Sociology at College of Social Sciences
“This is…” Cy was catching on quickly. “The ‘University Board’ of Midnight Sun? Hell, I knew they were kind of a big deal, but looking over these names back and forth…” “Yep,” Peter answered, “and these are the basics I could dig up on most of them… This No guy, though, other than existing? Practically a ghost. Apparently sometimes doesn’t even show for meetings in person.” “And we have definite signs this guy knows about people’s Stand abilities, and hangs out with that ‘Golden Sins’ guy you punched out? ‘Parapsychological Research,’ too… Sounds like Stands without outright saying Stands.” “Think I might have to go physical again,” Peter answered, “if an agent of Neoliberal Academia is on us, we gotta know their intention. With those types you never know if they’re with you or gonna sell you out. Think I was gonna start by checking out some Institute libraries.” “Wait,” Cy answered in turn, “you say they know about you and you’ve been trying to break in already… Then it might be too much heat on you to storm the castle. Let me take care of it.” “Oh, man, really? That’s super cool of you, Cy. If you find anything, I owe you one.” “Don’t think of it like I’m being nice to you for its own sake,” the assassin answered, “this is something that affects me, too, especially if we screw it up, and a physical infiltration is the kind of thing I’m more suited for than you… Though I will remember what you just offered.” Midnight Sun University Town - A Street Decked out for Pride Raymond “Ray” Delwyn Shimizu, meanwhile, had discovered similar information to Cy under what can be called vastly different circumstances: rather than suspicious, experience and perspective had taught him to have a cautiously optimistic approach to the clear power over the Metropolitan area the University Board held. To the Speedwagon Foundation, this Parapsychological Research Facility has always been an enigma, since it’s always been a risk to send many operatives to Los Fortuna, but I have a ‘feeling…’ A ‘feeling’ that tells me they are not going to be so dissimilar to us. I can’t help but wonder, then, like how my team is dealing with Cairo now, if SKADE can’t have its ‘talents’ assisted by some University grants and allianceship as well… Our ‘contact’ within ODIN didn’t have a bad word to say about them, so it likely won’t cause trouble with them, either. But first, Raymond knew, he could not simply walk blindly into such an alliance, much like his team had needed first to figure this Cairo out a bit more before adding their resources to their mission. A place worth starting to do such homework, then, would be in the records of their little research institute. As he walked along, Raymond soon passed by a frankly adorable-looking building, a sign out front of the place reading in bubbly letters: ‘CaraMel’s Confection & Bakery’ To that end, then, he thought, oh, tempting… Maybe I’ll stop by on the way back from the library, bring donuts or weird candies or something back to the gang. I have to imagine they’re delicious… Peering through the window, he saw the place absolutely bustling, loaded with the kind of crowd that speaks to waiting nearly an hour in line, and more going in. Urgh, and maybe there’ll be less of a line by then. After thinking that to himself, then, Raymond continued onwards, still making sure to eye every little oddity and incongruity of the area he could. Peaceful as the college town largely seemed, strange phenomena that could only amount to Stand usage also felt especially concentrated, even compared to the rest of this city. I’ve heard rumors of all number of notorious members of the Stand underworld in the region, and I’m sure I’m not the only one out here seeking this library out… or the one with the worst of intentions for it. Midnight Sun Parapsychological Institute Research Library - 1F Lobby Much to Raymond’s surprise, the place seemed… A pretty ordinary research library, all things considered. He hadn’t gotten terribly far in yet, of course, but then again, he didn’t really know what he was expecting. A receptionist with braided dark-red hair, round, spiraling glasses, and a blue vest over a short-sleeved black button-up sat at the front desk, guarding his way from a pair of doors behind him. Off to one side, gated from entry, sat a stairwell, visibly enticing, yet with a sign before it very overtly communicating: NO PUBLIC ENTRANCE. Ah, well, he could at least get an idea by looking around what sort of face they were willing to show anyone who entered. “Erm… S-sir?” The young woman at the entrance asked, seeming intimidated by his tall form. “Did you need to find something in particular? I’m, uh, I mean we… We’re not, uh.” She blinked. “What did you want again?” The sight practically made Ray roll his eyes, but he was able to let through a straightforward, “I didn’t say, actually…” Crap, he hadn’t thought this far, either. Of course a place like this would want to know why people were looking into it. Still, though, Ray was nothing if not smooth and even-faced, and in the span of the time between that ‘actually’ and opening his mouth again, he had thought convincingly of what wasn’t a lie, but didn’t actually say much of anything either. “I want to look into some cases this Institute has worked for this city. This is a pretty big place, and I know it’s a storied institution, so I thought I should get acquainted with some of them.” “R-right! Of course! So nothing in particular? Okay, cool..! I’m, uh… P-please, don’t hesitate at all if you need me…” The young woman pressed a button by her desk, and the doors clicked, unlocking from this side. As Ray began towards it, though, he was interrupted. “Oh, and one more thing!” He could practically see the ‘menacings’ emanating off of her, those adorable glasses practically shining as she spoke more clearly now. “There are two types of research library… Ones which only allow ‘reference,’ and ones which allow ‘lending’ to guests. We’re not a lending library, so don’t let us catch you taking anything out of here… Do you understand me, sir?” “…crystal clear.” This girl is a Stand User… For a moment, I almost let it slip my mind where I am. “Great!” She said, back to her somewhat nervous, bubbly demeanor. “Oh, and, uh… Don’t make too much noise either, ‘kay? I won’t be able to tell, because these walls are soundproofed, but we can’t be held accountable for what happens if you get other library patrons angry..!” There, she sounded more honest, even a touch exasperated to Raymond, as if exactly that had happened too many times to count, and she was resigned to it happening again. “I understand.” Curious as he stepped in, Raymond tested the door… Seemed it did, at least, open from the inside, so no fire hazard or Stand trap there even if it was locked externally. The library interior was hardly bustling, per se, but there were, regardless, a few faces about, all of whom struck Raymond as people it might or might not be a worthwhile idea to fuck with, including but not limited to a tall, balding, androgynous figure with an eyepatch over their forehead, a very average-looking young woman in a purple beret, a red-clad teenager in an aviator hat with a feather plume, round glasses, and long facial features, a tall twentysomething in too many coats with hair like a palm tree, a balding, dark-haired, bespectacled, bearded figure in a stupid black cap and loosely-worn red tie with simultaneously an utterly unhinged and utterly vacant look in his eye, and a blond, stubbly-haired twenty-something six-foot-something in sunglasses and a vest with shoulder sections that wriggled down his arms. Raymond thought little of the colorful characters around as he went to start picking out some reference material to sit at a desk with, but as he did, he happened to glance across the aisle, seeing there someone who he definitely knew was probably trouble: a short-haired, taller-than-him, androgynous blond with chin-length, face-covering bangs, which had an almost plastic sheen to them. They wore a form-fitting crop-top, shoulder-length cloak, jorts, leggings, and an armful of plastic bands. No way… I’ve heard of this person before! The foundation says that Cy Syntheta is a ruthless sellsword who’ll work any job. What could a person like that want in a place like this? Who are you doing research for? I smell trouble here… I’m going to need to apprehend them, dead or alive, before someone gets seriously hurt. I must say, as a swordsman myself, though, I’m almost excited… Almost. Cy Syntheta, minutes ago, had received a similar spiel for a similar non-explanation of their intentions, though theirs even vaguer, given the fact that the assassin was entering fully prepared to find information which led them to view the Institute as some sort of enemy. Their hunt for information about the hotel they occupied had led to a fascinatingly thorough history of its paranormal and criminal oddities, but nothing which referenced any of them. Nothing written about Heartache Casino where you’d expect, except a very brief mention of an assault from an ancient king when they tried to display some kind of ancient slab in the early 2010s… Nothing about us, either, when we know they definitely have something on us. Ugh. Is that on the more confidential floors..? Maybe I do need to start figuring out how to break in… And then, a moment later, their head perked up with a realization. There’s eyes on me… Someone is watching me right now, and close. Their head, then, darted across the aisles, and directly across from them stood a tall, broad-looking figure glancing their way with a clear, sneering suspicion. Everything about this guy screamed ‘fed,’ or at least something adjacent. Looks like my reputation has caught up to me again… Well, that’s just great. I’m gonna need to take this guy out then… How annoying. Hopefully, all these other guys stay out of it so I can get back to what I was doing. OPEN THE- Shhh! Open the game… Location: A public floor of the Midnight Sun Parapsychological Research Institute Library. The area here is 32 by 32 meters with each tile being 2 by 2 meters. Players are represented by their tokens with Raymond on the center left and Cy on the center right. The purple rectangles are bookshelves that are each around 2 meters tall. The brown rectangles are desks complete with chairs and lighting. The green circle is the help and resources desk. The plus signs are computer desks and the cone shapes on the bottom sides of the map are printers. Goal: RETIRE your opponent! Additional Information: They’re minding their own business, but the Institute Library is sparsely populated with a number of Stand Users among the general civilians. If you make too much noise or actively try to involve them in your fight, they’ll kick your ass, and you will be RETIRED. If you try to trick them into thinking your opponent is antagonizing them by using your own abilities to somehow try to make them look bad, they’ll kick your ass, and you will be RETIRED. On the other hand, though, as long as you’re not actively aiming for them, even the non-stand users in this area are pretty savvy people to be actively researching here in the middle of a fight; chumps, cowards, and charlatans will have already fled before they’re in any danger, leaving only people who know the score. They can generally reliably avoid being hurt, and as long as you aren’t too loud, will not under any circumstances besides aforementioned loss conditions use their various Stands to kick your ass.
“My name is ‘Kira Yoshikage.’ I can’t remember when or how I died… but one thing I can say is I feel certain I will not go to Heaven.” This parapsychological research library has some truly morbid, fascinating stories from which to draw inspiration. Take creative inspiration from paranormal knowledge in the basis and techniques of your strategy!
“I saw a book, seemingly unpopular, titled ‘The Elephant Who Lost His Nose.’ I thought to myself… Now why in the world would he lose his nose?” You’ve found your way to an absolutely fascinating source of unusual parapsychological knowledge, and as an agent of SKADE and of the Foundation alike, you aren’t going to take this opportunity for granted. Take creative inspiration from paranormal knowledge in the basis and techniques of your strategy!
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OBLIGATORY FILLER MATERIAL – Just take a hard left at Daeseong-dong…9
Continuing... “I say that you’re way the fuck out of line, Chuckles. Are you an educated, experienced, fully licensed and internationally renowned master blaster?” I asked. “No, but…” he tried to continue. “But nothing, Scooter.” I said, “What, other than your insane xenophobia and nationalism, causes you to come to such unfounded, not to say stupid, conclusions?” He looked down at the deck. Evidently, he was not used to being challenged in such a manner. He realized he walked face-first into a metaphorical wood chipper. “I’m waiting for your answer, pally.” I continued. Still nothing. He was either deep in thought or ill at ease from newly soggy undergarments. “Want to know why I chose what I did? Fine, meet back here in 15 damn minutes.” He looks at me with a most perplexed, and ignorant, look on his face. “Dax, Cliff? I need you.” I say. We go back to the weapons locker and I explain my idea. “Let’s load a case of typical, TYPICAL Chinese-made dynamite. Then let’s load a case of American C-4. Be very careful with that leaky Chinese shit. Wait one. I’ll do it if you want and you can handle the C-4.” I say. “Ah, Rock; yeah. We’d appreciate it. You being the Pro from Dover, after all.” Cliff agrees. “No worries”, I say, “I got this. You make me up a nice, tightly packed case of C-4. For demonstration purposes.” I find a near-empty case of dynamite and begin to judiciously fill the thing with random samples of shitty and leaky Chinese manufactured and Korean not-too-well-cared-for dynamite. This stuff was so incredibly shitty and poorly manufactured that even when leaking and nasty, it was nowhere near as dangerous as its Western counterpart. It was loaded with so much and many interstitials, like sawdust, diatomaceous earth, literal horseshit, and shredded newspaper, the nitro denatured itself to some degree as it oozed out. Plus, in the non-climate controlled weapons locker; the high humidity, salt air, and poor circulation from the small open grate facing the sea, the nitro had desensitized somewhat and evaporated. It left only sticky, thin, fly-ridden films rather than the usual ‘waiting for a good reason to explode’ puddles. It was in no way as twitchy as that locker back in Nevada. Oh, but be assured, it was still a shit show. If I really wanted to, I could blow myself, this boat and all occupants into the next dimension rather easily, but it was nothing like that old locker back in that disused Nevada mine. I still needed to be scrupulously careful as there could potentially be puddles of the pale yellow, viscous liquid explody stuff, instead of the thin films I was mostly finding. Either way, it required caution and judiciousness. Nitro’s twitchy as fuck and the last thing I need is a dropped nail, blasting cap, or hunk of the rotten box falling into an errant nitro wet patch… Extra attention was exercised. Dax and Cliff are halfway through, and I’m still picking through the leaky, smelly bundles. “Next time”, I mused to myself, “I‘m writing in a ‘Handling fucked-up explosives”-clause in my contract. No matter how much I’m being paid for this, it ain’t enough…” We find a couple of expendable, dry-rotted ‘life preserver’ floaty-rings, upon which we secure both cases of explosives. They’re tethered with a rope and primed with a number of blasting caps. I let the head local Korean crank examine both to ensure that I’m not trying to pull a fast one. He did not notice the 3-pound bag of Tannerite (an impact-actuated explosive) I snuck in the middle of the box of Chinese TNT. “Now. Satisfied that they’re equal?” I asked. “Nothing fishy here. Just dynamite in bundles, with caps. Then, over here, C-4 blocks with cap. OK?” He was satisfied; but only after letting a couple of the shiny suit squad check as well. “Well”, I smirked,” So much for your ‘covert observation’, asshole.” This guy was DPRK secret service or equivalent. “Holy cold-pack cheese-food product fuck”, I cogitate, “They are so goddamned suspicious”. I ask Dax to go over to the pilothouse and borrow the mauled AK-47 I saw hanging on the bulkhead there. They keep it for run-ins with cranky sharks, walruses, and lovesick blue-footed boobies evidently. “OK, here’s what we’ll do. We’ll float each out, and I‘ll trail with demolition wire. Once we’re a few hundred meters out, you can press the big, shiny, green button and detonate your dynamite. I even used 6 blasting caps, to give each bundle its own. You saw that. We green?” I ask. He was, although suspicious of what I had in mind. He agreed although he refused to use my terminology, the stodgy prick. So float away the dynamite case we did. The case of Chinese dynamite floated out and away from the boat, leaving an oily slick in its wake. As it got to around 200-225 meters or so, I requested a rendition of the Korean version of the Safety Dance, as it was just too fucking hilarious to watch. Once completed, I handed Doubting Korean Thomas the detonator. “Your turn, Tweedles”, I said, “Hit the button to spark off your “much-better-than-the-West’s” Oriental dynamite.” He grabbed the detonator, gnashed a tooth in my direction, and mashed down on the big, shiny, green button with a vengeance. PFftt!PAH-foof!fuff There was a cheery little pop, a puff of acrid smoke, and not much else. Let it be said from the onset that I just selected examples of the Oriental manufactured dynamite at random. I didn’t look for the worst or leakiest. Though truthfully I really didn’t have much too choice in the matter. “You! You swindled me! You knew the dynamite wouldn’t explode! Somehow you knew it!!” he swore in my general direction. “Try it again”, I said after retrieving the detonator and doing a quick re-wire to another bank of blasting caps. “Gumeong-e bul!” [“Fire in the hole!”]. MASH goes the big, shiny, green button anew. Pfffft!” *Pop. Poooof! Piffle. Blerp. Nothing but a cute little pop, a poof, and a few acrid puffs of smoke. He was crestfallen. He had taken on the Motherfucking Pro from Dover in a necessarily explosive subject, with inevitably disastrous results. I asked if anyone here was weapons trained. A couple of Coasties raised their hands. “And you are? “ I asked the closest one. “Lt. P'an Tae-Hyun, Sir”, as he snaps a snappy salute. “Groovy.”, I reply and retrieve the AK from Dax. “Can you squeeze off a couple of shots and hit that floating box of dynamite?” I asked. “Yes, sir!” he replied, smiling. “OK then”, I replied and turned to the crowd. “Dynamite is usually pretty stable stuff and won’t detonate without a blasting cap or impulse source. A bullet will most certainly not detonate it. However, I’ve stuck in 3 pounds, imperial, of Tannerite, which is a type of binary explosive used for targeting. Tannerite will most definitely and energetically explode when impacted by a high-velocity bullet. I think we can agree that an AK-47 round is high-velocity?” I asked. There were nods and a buzz of general agreement. “Now, there’s the better part of a case of unexploded dynamite out there. That’s what we in the business call very, very fucking dangerous. Now those three pounds of Tannerite should vaporize everything within a 10-meter radius if it detonates as designed. Agreed?” I asked. Again, there were nods and a buzz of general agreement. “Lieutenant P'an?” I asked, “At your discretion. Fire at will. Or the dynamite case, as it were.” He nodded. He walked over to the furthest point on the stern, checked to see everyone was back and out of harm’s way, as he was a consummate professional. He futzed around with the old AK for a bit and took a shot. It was low and outside. “Ball one”, I snickered. “Sights are off. Not any problems.” He remarked. The next round found its mark. The Tannerite exploded adeptly. It threw sticks of unexploded Chinese dynamite over a 20-meter radius. They each sank into the briny deep leaving only an oily spot to mark their entry and eventual watery grave. The top of the case of dynamite was blown off, but the floaty ring remained. We reeled it back in to find a few more scorched, but unexploded, sticks of fine Oriental manufacture explosive on the bottom of the case. These were motherfuckingly dangerous. Cantankerous dynamite has no place on a ship. I remarked, however, that this would be no problem. Dax and Cliff brought up the case of C-4, which I had wired with one single blasting cap and booster. We had Korean Doubting Thomas and his shiny suit buddies give it the once over to ensure I wasn’t trying to pull a fast one. He agreed, it was nothing but C-4 as advertised. One of the more expendable Coasties jumped down on the stern transom-rack which is just above the waterline on the back of the boat. He wired the two rings together and set them adrift, tethered by a good nylon rope with my nasty, silky demolition wires trailing. Dax was working the rope and I was handling the spool of demolition wire. I had a good 350 meters of the stuff on the spool and wasn’t about to return a single centimeter. Old habits and all. As they floated away, Mr. Kwan asked if we’d like a bit of refreshment, as, gosh, it sure was dusty out here today. Of course, we agreed in unison. Good old Mr. Kwan. So, we’re unspooling our lines slowly, drinking our end of the day refreshers, smoking cigars, and watching our Oriental colleagues getting antsier every minute. I knew what a case of C-4 was going to do when detonated. It would be one hell of a show. I was so confident with my design I had Lt. P’ay return the AK to the pilothouse. Wouldn’t work here anyways if the C-4 failed to detonate. But that’s not going to happen. Dr. Pro from Dover Rocknocker has spoken. Finally, I’m almost out of demolition wire, and Dax has tied off the tether. I motion over to Herr Doubting Thomas and hand him the detonator. “For ye of little faith”, I smiled, recalling the entreaty that even Satan quotes the Bible for his own nefarious uses. But first, an encore of the Korean Safety Dance. They're guaranteed to raise a smile. I look to the character fumbling with the detonator. “At your convenience, good sir”, I say, dripping insincerity. “Gumeong-e bul!” [“Fire in the hole!”]. Mash goes the big, shiny, green button. KA-MOTHERING-FUCKINGLY-HUGE-BOOM! Even over 300 meters away, every one of us not only saw but felt that shock wave. It was like a solid Savate kick to the chest. The boat even rocked a bit in appreciation. I smile, retrieved the detonator, safe it, and reply: “And that is the singular reason why I used good old American manufacture C-4 as a sonic seismic source rather than shitty, leaky Oriental dynamite. Any further questions?” He shook his head in agreement, bowed slightly in my direction, slunk away, and that was the very last we ever saw of Mr. Korean Doubting Thomas. The Captain saw and felt the detonation. He put the boat in park, actually, he handed it over to the sub-pilot for station keeping and came back to the fantail. He wanted to know if we were now officially finished with our project. We maintained that we were and it had come off very, very successfully; in no small degree because of his boat handling abilities. He came over to me and shanghaied one of the translators. “Doctor Stone?” he asked. “Hrmph. Close enough.” I smiled. “May I be first to congratulate your team. In eight sorties, you and your teams are the first to fulfill mission parameters. I am pleased to say that this will go on all our permanent records. It will mean bonuses for all present. I salute you.” And does with a naval flourish. “No shit? Well, thanks, Cap”, I reply, “But I’m just the den mother for this special education class. Without them, and all their hard work, it’d never have happened.” “I knew you would say this”, he smiled, “You are leader of men. We see that. You are teacher, but also not afraid to work. You should do this more often. Use your education and experience to train and teach others.” He says, shaking my hand. Now it’s time for me to wonder. Did he hear of my offer back home? I don’t think he did, I’ve been playing those cards very close to the vest, as it were. I am now officially confused and bebothered. But, since I don’t believe in anything, much less coincidence, I’m going to chalk it up to happenstance and just gratefully consider the source. He asks that we wait here and he’ll return forthwith. “On a boat this size, there are not too many places we can sneak off to…” I chuckle. He returns with a very, very old bottle of something quite unidentifiable since it appears to be lacking a label. He yells something in official Korean and suddenly, a tray with little, itty-bitty demitasse-style glasses appear along with some smoked fish, I think, nibbles of some kind. He pours a dram for all present. No one dares take as much as a preemptory sniff until he’s finished with the ceremony. Everyone thusly charged, he begins a toast. “Shoo-buddy”, I think, “I’ve been down this road before.” It was quick, succinct, brief, and laudatory. According to him, we had ‘hung the moon’. I liked this style of toasting. Left more time to drink and for camaraderie. The project thus finished, as we were running out of potables, especially freshwater, victuals, and toilet paper; we were headed back to base. That is, back to the hotel to see what our comrades who chose to stay onshore had developed. But, that was going to be for another day. First, we needed to chug our way back to port, both literally and figuratively. Ahem. Before which, though, there were some housekeeping and paperwork chores. Dax, Cliff, and I did a quick reconnaissance of the explosives locker and created a ‘used’ manifest; which all three of us signed. They may be officious, they may be obtrusive, but damn, they certainly love their goddamned paperwork over here. We gave copies to the head shiny suit, one for the Captain, and we retained copies for our records. Along with notes that we expended two rounds from the pilothouse AK, as we were trying to out-officious these officious paper-pushers. We made certain the keys were returned and logged in the proper logbooks and the explosives locker was locked securely, solidly, and soundly. Before which, we policed up the weapons locker and actually offered to the gods of the briny deep, quite the quantity of unsafe, leaky dynamite, and other ordinance that was more a disaster waiting to happen rather than inventory. Seawater would neutralize the nasties and in the case of anything metallic, it’d be gone within a fortnight. and the phosphates might provide some nice fertilizer for some lucky passing Cnidarians. We were in water of near 45 fathoms. This stuff would never hurt another living thing. The Captain was very pleased that we had taken that task upon ourselves. He wasn’t allowed to do anything about what was in the locker, but he was responsible for it and keeping the wrong people out of it. I commented that was a fairly stupid way of handling things, and he mentioned that he’d appreciate it if I made an official note of it to the powers that be once we go feet-dry, i.e., get back to shore. I assured him we most certainly would. From then on, all we had to do was putt-putt our way back to port. It was going to take some hours and we’d end up berthing during the wee hours. This would not be a problem as our bus and driver would be waiting for us no matter what the time. He would briskly and without fanfare, return us to our hotel. That we were actually looking forward to bunking back in the old hotel sort of gave one an idea of the Spartan arrangements we had endured for the last three days. Most of the Westerners groused and complained in a humorous manner. Hell, it was only three bloody days. Some of our Oriental friends were so totally aghast they vowed to lodge formal complaints once they returned to dry land. Landlubbers. Odd that once we hit the beach, they all scattered to the four winds and not a single letter nor either a peep of protest was ever forthcoming. Yes, this is an intensely weird place. We wandered down the gangplank, cigars a-fume, and drinks recently and for one last time, refreshed by Mr. Kwan. The shiny suit squad was supervising the offloaded of the seismic data we had collected and had seen it soundly sealed and concealed in the very living bowels of the bus. It was to return with us to the hotel, where we’d demand a receipt. Then it would be off to the ‘Technological Center” on Scientific Street for processing. They assured us that they’d handle that themselves. Evidently we were good enough to acquire the data, but not good enough to see the finished product. Ack, Volna, and Ivan chuckled. “OK, you pirates. What did you do?” I asked “They can try with all their might. But without the decryption key, they’ll spend years processing encoded compressed nonsense.” They snickered. “We did offer to come and help set up the decryption for the decompression of the raw data, but they said they could handle it themselves. Oh, well. We tried. Seriously, we did.” Ack and Volna snickered. “Well, keep it handy in case they come to their senses before we get out of here,” I said. “Always our intention, Herr Denmother”, Volna chuckles. “Oh, you heard that?” I snickered quietly. Back at the hotel, the majority of us sent our sea-gear to our rooms via the on-site laundry. That being settled, the majority of us retired to the catacombs of the basement. We needed strong drink, decent, non-tinned food, and seats that didn’t slop around every time you sat down. Well, with the acquisition of our sea legs, two out of three wasn’t bad. Since the hour was much too late, I decide that tomorrow, well, later today, would be a day of R&R for everyone. Moreover, I was informed that tomorrow would be the “Day of the Sun” celebration, the insanely earnest celebration birth anniversary of Kim Il-sung, founder and Eternal President of North Korea. It’s supposed to be some sort of big, hairy nationwide deal. But aside from a couple of small posters, we heard little and knew less about the holiday and its celebration. Everyone’s being even more uncharacteristically low key. It’s odd like there’s something weird going on here. “What? Something weird and covert and sneaky going on in Best Korea? Pshaw, you old fart. You’re letting the paranoids get to you!”, I mused to myself. This place will do that to you after a while. I asked the front desk to place a note that made the rest of today a day of R&R in everyone’s mailbox. After another cigar, some decent prawn stir-fry, and a couple-twelve really stiff drinks, we were all ready to invade the land of Nod for a few hours. I went downstairs for a drink, a nosh, and a smoke. I ran out of NK won as we tend to use them in Western Expat high-stakes poker games, so I needed to trade some of my weird Middle Eastern currency for weird Best Korea currency. I was used to the 900:1 won:US dollar (equivalent) trade-off, but after cashing in the equivalent of US$500 in Middle Eastern dinero, I walked off with 650,000 won, not 450,000. “Pardon me, Ms. Cashier”, I said to the nice little local woman behind the bird-cage security wires, “I do think you gave me too much.” She took my stack, re-counted it, and proclaimed it correct. “I thought the exchange rate was 900 to the dollar?” I asked. “No”, she remarked, “Now 1,336.” “Any idea what’s causing the fluctuations?” I asked. She just smiled and shook her head ‘no’. I smiled back and tipped her 50 UAE dirhams for the information. “Weird. Now what?” I mused. Little did I know… The next morning dawned dim and early as there some sort of something going on outside. Oh, yes, it was ‘The Day of the Sun’ celebration. I discovered it was is an annual public holiday in North Korea celebrating the birth anniversary of Kim Il-sung, founder, and Eternal President and local Poobah-in-Charge of North Korea. It is the most important national holiday in the country, and is considered to be the North Korean pseudo-secular equivalent of Christmas. “Well,” I thought to myself, “I picked a damn good day to call for an R&R break.” Then I found out, why no one told us about any of this is still unknown, that the next two days after the holiday would also be considered a holiday. Come to find out, there are all sorts of intrusive, inconvenient, and wholly unnecessary nonsense that accompany these high holy days here in Best Korea. There are exhibitions, fireworks, song and dance events, athletics competitions, idea seminars: “Think about it!”, and visits to places connected with Kim Il-sung's life, including his birthplace in Mangyongdae. Shops close, the hotel televisions block any other ‘programming’ and show only ‘special’ movies. Either ridiculously fake documentaries on the life of the also ever so ronrey Kim Il-sung or movies he especially enjoyed. People parade to his statue on Mansu Hill to deposit flowers; later in the day, it resembled a pollinated glacier. There’s general obviously forced elation, all of which is extraordinarily strained and appears fake. People are trucked by the groaning busload to the Kumsusan Palace of the Sun where the dead maniac lies in state. “Fuck this”, I said in the exact spirit of international amity, “I’m going to the bar.” I go downstairs to the basement bar, and even though it’s a high holy day, it’s open early. It didn’t used to be open until the afternoon, but since we’ve arrived, they have adjusted their hours for us. They have also doubled their daily receipts. So they’ve got that going for them, which is nice. One of my favorite barkeeps was station keeping that morning. I greeted him in the usual style and expressed to Mr. Ho Gun the best holiday wishes. “Hi! Ho!”, I said, “Annyeonghaseyo”, which comes out ‘Annie young eez-yo!’ in my Baja Canuckian dialect. Mr. Ho laughs at my attempt at Korean, but he does appreciate the effort. “Doctor Rock”, he says, “Dawn greetings. You will drink what?” Nice and direct, I like that. “Ye’ ken Greenland Coffee, me ol’ mucker?” I asked in a swirl of different dizzying dialects. Koran confounds me, so I thought I’d return the favor. “No, but I’m sure it’s coffee with some of your usual high-proof liquors, correct?” he smiles as I hand him a nice, oily Oscuro cigar. “For Best Most Happy Returns: Day of the Sun”, I said, waggling the stogie, as I hand it over. “However, you are correct. Normally, ‘authentic’ Greenland Coffee is a paltry 1/3rd ounce each of Whiskey, Kahlua, and Grand Marnier with excess coffee. Well, I don’t cotton to those liquors or measures. So my Greenland Coffee recipe, really from Greenland, by the way, is Siku Vodka, or any other high-octane vodka, as long as it’s premium. Then Immiak, which is Greenland’s version of Jagermeister, so let’s just go with Jager. Then finish it off with a shot of Tia Maria or Kahlua, if available. Oh, yes, then hot coffee. Silly me, almost forgot…” I conclude. “And measures?” Mr. Ho asked. “Whatever fills the cup”, I replied, in a bastardization of an old Russian toast. “OK, how about a 35 mils (~1 ounce) stiff shot each booze, then hot coffee to fill your mug? With a chilled vodka chaser, as per usual?” He asks. “Make it so, Mr. Ho,” I say. “No whipped cream or crème liqueurs, please. I’m lactose intolerant, and, well, no one wants to hear that…” He laughs and whips together a very nice morning sunriser. It’s a real day off. In a very, very weird land. It’s Festival outside and I stayed up most of the night calling people back in the world, creating and updating dossiers, doing explosives-tracking paperwork, worrying over logistics, and how and when the fuck we’re going to eventually get out of here. Fuck it, double front. I’m doing my ‘people watch’, perched high on Mahogany Ridge. I’m taking, for the first time since, hell, I left the Middle East, some real downtime. I figured I deserved it. I was the only one at the bar, but after a short time, there were festival-goers who infiltrated down into the hotel's subterranean catacombs. They didn’t know of the bar’s recently expanded hours and when they saw me sitting high up on Mahogany Ridge, smoking my ubiquitous cigar, they rejoiced. Obligatory Festival and alcohol! Better than beer and power tools. In the Baja Canada time-honored tradition, I have a pile of the local currency sitting on the bar. At the new exchange rate of 1,386 won to the dollar, I’m making out like a bandit. Drinks here are cheap, really cheap, to begin with. With this fluctuation in exchange rates, which I figured reflected the holiday, I was flush. In the chips. Well-heeled. I've got a lot of what it takes to get along. So, I was feeling magnanimous. I was tipping people very well. “Paper?” one local asked. “Sure. How much for a week-old English version of the Daily Worker’s Manifest and Pork Belly Futures Digest? 100 won? Here’s 1,000. Keep the change.” Not wanting to become over-caffeinated, I switched from Greenland Coffees after a couple to my usual potato juice and citrus concoction. Each one came in a tall, frosted gimlet glass, a very nice touch, and was expertly made my Mr. Ho after I showed him once when we first arrived. Each one, with the current exchange rate, was about 500 won; an exorbitant sum for any local. It was about US$0.40 for me. I bought several for people who bellied up to the bar and tried to engage me in conversation. I was used to handing out business cards, hell, one never knew where contacts could lead; and not receiving one in return. Today, I collected four new business cards; two from various European ex-pats, and two from locals. I guess Festival! time brings out the best and least paranoid in people. It’s only 1000 hours in the AM and people here are already seriously lubricated. This will be a fun few days. I decided to get a rather tall drink in one of my 100-ounce Kum-n-Go travel cups. With all the hoo-ha going on around here, I haven’t seen a handler, translator, or guide since we got off the boat. I decide with all the shenanigans and goings-on around the place on this festival day, no one would give me nor my wardrobe a second look if I were to venture outdoors for a walkabout. Besides, we’re on a bloody island. It’s not like I can go too damned far. So, quicker than a bunny fucks, I get my drink, fire up a cigar, and walk around the lobby of the hotel. There are the usual comings and goings of tourists, local workers, the security forces, and all that allied tat. I wait until a tour bus pulls up and all eyes are somewhere besides me. Pfft! And I’m standing outside the hotel, looking at all the sights. Which, truth be told, weren’t much. Yanggak Island is a slovenly-manicured island with shrubberies, tracks, trails, and assorted support buildings. The river is basically hidden behind stunted shrubs and nevergreens, and the remains of the defunct golf course. There’s a stadium on the island, which was thronging with festival-goers today. I don’t know what sport, if any, they play there, and didn’t care enough to ask anyone. There was a cinema hall, which was currently empty and looking in need of some dire repair. There’s some sort of Chinese health complex in the process of being built or torn down, it was hard to tell which. Needless to say, the scenery paled almost immediately. I did, after a concerted effort, find a small platform that overlooked the Taedong River. It was a very nice little observation platform with a couple of new-Tudor-esque electrical replica gas lights and two concrete benches where a weary traveler could sit and just watch the river. So I did. I was interested in the fish of the river, and wondered if any of the locals did any fishing; or if it was forbidden, as are so many ‘proletariat’ activities are in town. I did see a few locals, huddled out of plain sight, down by the shores of the river fishing with long, 10 meter, reel-less poles. In Britain, they would call this type of fishing ‘noodling’. I didn’t see them catch anything, but in the bar later, I spoke with a local who told me that they catch various species of fish here. These include Asian Aroana, Blue Guppy, Catfish, Crab, Eel, Halibut, Hucho Perryi, Octopus, Orange Guppy, Pacific Flying Squid, Rainbow Trout, Salmon, and Tuna. I’m not saying my informant was lying or embroidering the tale, but from the nasty condition of the river, I think Coney Island Whitefish, Cotton River Horse, Dumpster Trout, and Bugle-Mouthed Salmon would be the more common species. I had enough perambulation and even though I wasn’t given the least look, I felt a bit uncomfortable out here. That unfiltered sun and equally unfiltered air. After that, I wandered back to the hotel and went to enter to go to my room. “HALT! Who goes there?” some door guard yelled at me. “An American tourista who was out on a walk”, I replied. “Impossible!”, he replied, “Tourists are not allowed out without their guides.” “Look, Herr Mac”, I said, “I’m Dr. Rocknocker, and I am an invited Western Petroleum Scientist with the UN special-invited group here to evaluate the country’s oil and gas potential.” “You are not allowed.” He replied loudly. “My good man”, I replied, equally loudly, "Not allowed? Not allowed? I’m a geologist, I’m allowed everywhere.” With that, I grab the handle of the ornate door, take a slurp out of my drink, and sally forth into the hotel. Of course, he goes non-linear. He follows me and is making all sorts of bad noise. He is almost literally dancing around me, pointing, and exclaiming that I’m not allowed. Then, he made a bit of a mistake. He grabbed my arm. Really, really poor career move. I switched my drink to my left hand and executed a pretty spiffy opposite-side wrist grab on the noisy little nerf herder. He was so shocked by this turn of events, he went slightly white and was rendered mute for a short time. I frog marched the little irritant up to the front desk and asked the head clerk there to explain to my captive audience who I was and why I was here. The clerk smiled and gave the character whom I was dragging around a quick background on the guy who was currently holding him captive. When I heard “닥터 락 노커” [dagteo lag nokeo, “Dr. Rocknocker”], I dropped this guy’s hand and just took a few steps back. After a minute or two, he comes over, very, very abashed. He apologizes as he wasn’t told that any Americans were allowed outside the hotel. I told him ‘No problem’, as I really didn’t have any special permission and didn’t want to get the guy into any trouble. I offered him a cigar, which he refused, but he readily accepted the half-pack of Sobranie pastel cigarettes I had in the pocket of my Hawaiian shirt. I decided from that point to just stay inside the hotel to smoke, drink, and avoid any further Imperial entanglements. I wandered on down to the casino because I was bored and it was unusually quiet. Too hepped-up to sleep, too tired to work, it was that odd interarea between “should I be giving a fuck” and “who the fuck cares?” Leaving the basement, I wandered around the ground floor, just taking in the sights, and looking at the “Festival Specials” at the hotel shops. I found an empty, unlocked conference room that looked inviting. About two dozen chairs, a large wooden table, TV monitors, and a southern view of the city from slightly above ground level. I walked in like I owned the place, as it is always monumentally easier to get forgiveness than permission, sat down at the head of the table, propped my feet up, found an ashtray, and began playing with the remote to see what was available. Evidently, these rooms were available for rent by various factions, cadres, and other sorts of like-minded individuals. However, whoever was here last forgot to re-set the filters on the satellite television. There was real the BBC, real-time. There was German TV, Russian TV, Japanese TV, and even some American TV; all the best of the absolutely prohibited hit parade. I shut it down and left immediately. I went to find my comrades. They simply had to see this. I located Dax first, as he was losing won at a rapid rate down at the basement casino. He said he’d spread the word to any of the team members down in the tunnels and we’d meet at Conference Room #1. I had taken the precaution before leaving to move the “Occupied/Unoccupied” placard to indicate it was in use and that if you hadn’t reserved the room, you’d do best to stay the fuck out. I waited the obligatory 20 minutes for the elevator and went up to ‘our’ floor. I knocked on all the doors where I knew they were occupied by our occupants. I found a few of our team and informed them that if they were so inclined, there would be an unannounced, impromptu, and wholly illicit meeting down in Conference room number 1; complete with refreshments and real, uncensored television. They all agreed and said they’d rouse the rest of our team on the floor. I was feeling so brazen, that when I went down to the ground floor, I stopped at the front desk and ordered lunch and drinks for my team in Conference Room #1. “Oh, sir”, the desk clerk responded, “We don’t have any reservations today for Conference Room #1.” “Well”, I replied, “We are in there and if it wasn’t reserved, how would that have happened? The room would have been marked as unavailable, which it clearly was not; as it was open and available and we are now occupying it. Therefore, it wasn’t marked unavailable so it must have been available; not unavailable as you postulate. It’s almost a simple example of the single equation theory of universal containment. So we are meeting there now and requiring refreshments. It’s simply a logical progression of the facts of the matter.” “You are, of course, correct”, she immediately responded, distracted by all the Festival goings-on in the hotel, “Now, you said you’d like to order 4 dozen assorted meat and cheese sandwiches, two cases of beer, and a mixed case of bottled liquor?” “Yes”, I replied, “You see, it’s only going to be a brief meeting. I’ll also need ice, carbonated and non-carbonated mixers, sliced citrus fruit, and an on-call bartender if you have one available.” “Oh, yes sir,”, she replied, “That will be immediately arranged. Anything else?” “Yes”, I replied, “I’ll need about a dozen ashtrays, of the larger variety. Also, I am going to leave explicit instructions with you to disseminate to hotel staff that we are not to be disturbed. This is a very high-level meeting of the scientists of the IUPG. We will be discussing, umm, ‘sensitive information’”. I used the international ‘don’t-even-think-of-bothering-us’ buzzword to let her know were being very serious indeed. “Oh, yes sir”, she stiffened. “Marvelous”, I said and slipped her 1000 won for her troubles. All sighs of nervousness instantly disappeared. “Excellent. Excellent service.”, I said, rubbing both hands together most Mr. Burnsly. I go over to the conference room and see that our order has begun to already arrive. Have to hand it to them, you call for room service and you get room service. Especially if you’re well known around the hotel to be free with imported cigars, pastel cigarettes, and lavish tips. One by one, my teammates filtered in. There was everyone from out earlier pleasure cruise, and most of the force that remained back in the hotel to prepare the paperwork for our ground assault. Cigars, cigarettes, and pipes were lit. Sandwiches consumed and drinks were downed. After everyone had a chance to see their home-town, or at least home-county, version of the news, I decided that it would indeed be a good time to have a bit of a meeting. It was going nuts outside with the Festival, and as long as we were in here, we were being left alone. After the obligatory facilities break, I returned from a 40-minute round trip to my room to get a couple of my field notebooks. I wanted a record of the proceedings, no matter how spur-of-the-moment. When I returned, I thought the room looked a bit spare. I did a quick headcount and I noted we were missing someone. I glanced through my notes and saw that our Bulgarian geomechanic, Dr. Iskren Dragomirov Dinev, or ‘Iskren’ was not present. “Hey, guys”, I asked aloud, “Anyone seen Iskren lately?” There was a brief conclave and the answer was a solid negative. I called the front desk and got his room number. I asked them to ring his room for me. His room phone rang and rang and rang, but no answer. “Who last saw Iskren?” I asked the assembled crew. The Finnish PT, Joon, recalls drinking with him at the casino the night before last. He seemed normally jovial as was normal for him. “Anyone else? Or since?” I asked. Again, the answer was negative. “Something’s not right”, I thought, my rock sense was tingling. “Dax, Cliff, you’re with me.” We all left, stopped by the front desk, and asked for medical assistance. We explained where we were going and the sudden absence of our Bulgarian friend. We expressed deep concern. 25 minutes later, Dax, Cliff, me, the hotel security chief, and hotel doctor were standing outside Iskren’s room. We had pounded on the door for a good 3 minutes. He certainly wasn’t in the shower. No answer. “Fuck this. Open it”, I said. “Under whose authority?” the chief of hotel security asked. “Mine. Dr. Rocknocker. I’m the team leader of the IUPG crew. Do it.” I said. The door was laboriously opened, as both door bolt locks had to be breached. The room was dark, silent, and entirely unnerving. In the gloom, it appeared that there was a human form, unmoving, on the bed. “I’m a rock Doctor. I think we need a medical doctor here.” I said to the hotel sawbones. The hotel doctor went in without switching on the lights nor touching anything. He examined the mound on the bed. Apparently, it wasn’t a pile of dirty laundry. “Was the occupant of this room a large Caucasian male, approximately 60-65 years of age?” He asked. “Yes”, we all answered together. “I’m afraid he’s dead.” The doctor replied. Dax looked at Cliff who looked at me. In unison, all that was heard was a tripartite: “Oh…fuck.” To be continued...
If you want to see Hard Rock / Heavy Metal concerts near your location, please click here. Artist. Concertful ranking. Metallica 1 concert to Oct 07, 2021 Hard Rock / Heavy Metal #3. Aerosmith 13 concerts to Sep 14, 2021 Hard Rock / Heavy Metal #8. KISS 34 concerts to Oct 06, 2021 Hard Rock / Heavy Metal #14. Guns N' Roses 22 concerts to Dec 25, 2021 Hard Rock / Heavy Metal #15. Iron Maiden 12 Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Tulsa is the ultimate destination for gaming and entertainment, featuring more than 2,600 electronic games, a popular music venue, and multiple dining options! February 20, 2021 February 20, 2021 Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Atlantic City. Learn how to make sushi like a pro at Kuro's Sushi School on Saturday, February 20th! Read More Buy Tickets. Friday, February 26, 2021 . RESCHEDULED: Zucchero February 26, 2021 February 26, 2021 Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Atlantic City. Rescheduled for Friday, September 24, 2021. Read More. RESCHEDULED: Zucchero February Explore your wild side with a trip to the casino or a stay in one of the room and suites at Hard Rock Hotels around the world. Skip to content. Toggle navigation. Hardrock.com Cafes Hotels Rock Shop. Book Now Hard Rock Rewards. CORONAVIRUS/COVID-19: Hard Rock has an important message to our fans: Learn More. X click to close. Destinations. North America; Central & South America, Caribbean Experience All of Hard Rock. Music is life. And we're in it for the song, art, tastes and the authentically Hard Rock touch. Live inside the moment at a Hard Rock Hotel, Resort or All-Inclusive experience, where classic memorabilia sets the stage for a one-of-a-kind experience.Feel your heart pound to the beat of our live music at Hard Rock Live entertainment venues. Tis casino was taken over by MGM. The slot machines were the same but the service much worse. The staff just wasn't as friendly. It was a Monday night so I know that they had less staff on hand but in two hours, not one staff member asked me if I wanted a drink or even said hi. I hope it improves. I like it's location. … Your Home For Hard Rock Concert Tickets.. With each transaction 100% verified and the largest inventory of tickets on the web, SeatGeek is the safe choice for tickets on the web. Find Hard Rock concert tickets near you and see why SeatGeek is the trusted choice for tickets. Let's Go! Plan your next vacation getaway with Hard Rock in mind and use our convenient map to discover new and exciting cafe, casino, and hotel locations to visit worldwide. Hard Rock Live After 10 years of bringing world-class entertainment to Northeast Oklahoma, Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Tulsa has ushered in a new era and is home to Hard Rock Live, an award-winning concert experience. Learn more Track 5. Track 5. is a live music dance hall inspired by Oklahoma's rich Honky Tonk Roots. The venue is all things country: old, new, and alt. country including Red Dirt In conjunction with BCLC, Hard Rock Casino Vancouver has temporarily suspend all operations. To find out the status of your event(s), as well as more information regarding the cancellation and rescheduling of live events, go to https://www.ticketmaster.ca.We appreciate your understanding during this unprecedented situation.
Tour of Hard Rock Hotel and Casino in Atlantic City, NJ ...
Florida Georgia Line "Dirt" Live @ The Hard Rock Hotel and Casino Atlantic City, July 13, 2018 Exploring newly opened HARD ROCK HOTEL & CASINO in ATLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY. I intentionally did not put background music so you'll hear the natural noise/s... Subcribe Like And Share My YouTube With Everyone Skid Row Vixen Live In Your Face High Quality Live Videos James Front And Center Rocking Rolling The Night Away Saturday, December 28, 2019 in Atlantic City, NJ On request: the UNCUT version of "Neil Young Down by the River live at Hard Rock Calling 2009YouTube didn't allow me to upload longer videos last year (so I ... Skid Row Live Mess Of me Rattlesnake Shake 7/21/18 Biloxi Ms Hard Rock Casino We explored the Hard Rock Casino in Las Vegas! They have a lot of band memorabilia and great restaurants at the HRC. We stopped for a french dip & milkshak... This is a look at the new Hard Rock Hotel and Casino in Atlantic City. This tour takes you through a standard room, hotel dining options, the indoor pool and... Set list :1-Bad Company2-Honey Child3-Sweet Lil' Sister4-Burnin' Sky5-Gone, Gone, Gone6-Run With the Pack7-Live for the Music8-Seagull9-Feel Like Makin' Love... October 24th has arrived & the $1.5B #guitarhotel officially opens! I was blown away by the Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino complete revamp of the casino f...
