#moreonliam

[spellsandpixiedust]

((#31-35?))

31. How many times have you gotten after school detention?

“More than the average kid and probably less than ye may think I’ve gotten. I wasn’t that much a horrible pupil, really. Just the usual not-doing-homework, not-paying-attention kinda bollocks I pulled. Yeah, and I scribbled and carved band logos to be immortalised on me table. Gave sarky answers. Smoked on school grounds. Wagged school. Alright. Me model pupil days were numbered once puberty struck. Not a total one-eighty, but enough to make the teachers hate me and give me detention for the stupidest of reasons. Once the headmaster had me summoned to give me detention for the sole reason that I had been given detention too much for his liking in the past couple months. What’s that for a logic even?!”

32. How many times have you been suspended from school?

“Uh… once. Might’ve been more if it wasn’t so bloody -ard to get yer arse suspended from school at all. So, yeah, I can proudly state I soddin’ earned it. Even though the circumstances were sorta ridiculous. Imagine this: I was fifteen, not exactly a musical prodigy but close enough the school had me play the national anthem for some wanky event. A gym full of royalist pricks and me accidentally confusin’ ‘God Save The Queen’ with ‘Elizabeth My Dear’. Needless to say it wasn’t well received. Luckily the song’s so short, or else I would not ’ve been able to finish before they dragged me off stage. Violently. Long story short: I was suspended for lese majesty. No regrets.”

33. Have you ever been expelled?

“Nah. I actually spared them the trouble and dropped out of school meself. Still, I’m convinced they never would’ve tried to get me expelled in the first place. Not unless I dealt drugs on the school grounds or somming equally stupid. School’s always been pretty lax about me escapades. Most of the time just givin’ me the grand speech about how I was wastin’ me potential. Yeah… what did they know?!”

34. What is/was your worst subject in school?

“Most hated was definitely PE. I’m a fast runner, yeah, and I climb like a cat, but team sports? Nah. No one would ever pick me for their team. Ever. And once everyone got whiff of me being a poof the changing room’s pretty much become Hell. In the end I failed because I never showed up.”

35. What is/was your best subject in school? 

“I’d love to say it was Music, but I never cared for when Chopin was born or how many pieces Beethoven wrote in total. So, yeah, that’s not it. Maybe Latin. For a change I was really ambitious, mostly because a lot of the books on magic I had acquired were written in Latin. And when say mostly I mean that’s the only reason. Oh, and let’s not forget Chemistry. I love setting shit on fire for science.”

[spellsandpixiedust]

Bones & Lace (it's like a gothy album title!)

Ask-Meme

BONES: Name one strength and one weakness.

Strength:

Liam has an undeniable talent for music. And we’re not talking his amazing skill to magically remembering all the lyrics to all songs ever (or well, just the songs he likes, obviously.) It’s a matter of real, proper musicality. Not only does he have a great sense of rhythm, the dexterity of a guitarist and a good grasp when it comes to learning new songs, he’s also not too bad at combining these perks to deliver as a musician. With a fair enough voice and great guitar skills he puts on a brilliant show. Sadly such talent comes with a drawback that leaves him wincing whenever music’s maltreated though.

Weakness:

One surefire way to bring Liam to his knees is to finalise what his self-destructive nature and low self-esteem have already started. Once he’s past the breaking point of denial where he’d bark like a beaten puppy, yelling his objections fortified with insults, the Manc’s back talk gradually grows more quiet and eventually is enterily replaced by petty sobbing. Liam may act as if he doesn’t give a fuck at most times, but starved for love he actually craves appreciation. If one has finally managed to talk him into this pathetic stage - yes, surprise; the best way to destroy him is by using words - Liam will be paralysed, if not trying to escape his torment. His escapism goes as far as he’s likely to resort to means to achieve substitute positive feelings to counteract his shattered confidence; leading him to seek solace in abusing drugs or blood magic.

LACE: Your favorite things to wear?

When it comes to clothing Liam can be remarkably lazy. Lazy as in not tarting himself up on a daily basis. Or lazy as in nicking stuff off people’s wardrobes rather than surrendering himself to tedious shopping. As a result his favourite everyday get-up is remarkably unspectacular, and kind of mismatched, too. T-shirt, plain or band shirt, always over-sized of course, then a battered hooded sweat jacket on top, and either a denim or leather jacket to go on top of that. Layer look is totally his thing, obviously. For trousers regular jeans will do, slim fit, but not as tight as his infamous pair of shag-me-jeans. Just to make sure his bum won’t look utterly ridiculous though, he’d still wear briefs underneath. (Yes, baggy is a very Manchester style, but he never took a fancy to it.) Safe for end-of-the-world piss down rain or snow scenarios, Liam can be always spotted with trainers on. Doesn’t exactly allow him to cheat an inch onto his sub average height, but it allows for running, climbing and sneaking; all that what a thief person like him would look for in a pair of shoes.

His favourite things to wear on special occasions, aka what if Liam put an effort in his looks, would be composed of the following: An actual store bought band- or tour-shirt that is - le gasp - somewhat fitted to his slender figure, his infamous pair of snug fitted shag-me-jeans, studded belt, ankle boots (laces left untied) with a black unbuttoned shirt to go on top when chilly-but-bearable, leather jacket when more than just a little chilly. Spice it all up with a velvet choker if he feels like it’s safe enough to do so and he won’t get done over for wearing it. Definitely will wear flawless eyeliner and black nail polish (partially chipped off) regardless. 

[spellsandpixiedust]

Lavender, Incense, Scars, Rainstorms

Ask-Meme

LAVENDER: Name something that relaxes you.

“Is not that hard and doesn’t necessarily involve questionable substances. Put on Songs Of Faith And Devotion, let me have a cuppa or somming more substantial, cadge have a smoke, too, and that’s it. Easy formula. Though - and now it’s gettin’ terribly soppy - what really has me blissfully relaxed is listening to another bloke’s heart beat, me arms wrapped around his body and his hand on the small of me back gently drawing invisible circles. It’s only when I lose myself with someone else that I find myself. Well, wasn’t that awfully specific? Yeah. Don’t whine and be glad I didn’t quote Franky Goes To Hollywood, even if the question was begging for it.”

INCENSE: List your three favorite scents.

“For one the smell of coffee in the mornin’. Then… uhm… that particular and long forgotten fragrance of combined new and stale smoke shrouding sweat and cheap perfume and booze, interlaced with semblances of synthetic hailing from the poor ventilation and the fog machine rendering the former completely redundant. Or for short: any club before the awful smoking ban. And third, let me try and reestablish me image as a semi-sophisticated person: the smell of dusty old books promising knowledge.”

SCARS: Share something difficult you’ve been through.

“Puberty counts, right…? Yeah, well. I know it’s not what ye meant. So… the following is not for the faint-hearted. Just a fair advice. Right. It’s no secret, sadly, I’ve made meself known a dark magician in the past. But it wasn’t as easy as just deciding on a one-eighty, ye know? I’ve… fuck, let’s face it: I was an addict. To boot. Blood magic it was, is, still. Cause while I’m painfully, pathetically human including no psychic abilities, using spells is just saying words and then being surprised shit actually happens. Not with blood magic. I can feel it. Me own magic running through me veins. I feel power. I feel meself. I feel whole. And the entire world changes in ways ye would never understand. Bit like an acid trip. Don’t ask. So… of course I needed new ways to induce a high, new spells, more powerful ones. It paid off me ego and it satisfied me bodily craving for a short while. I never failed, there was not one single spell I could not master, so abandoning all that, the high and the power and the only thing I was ever truly marvellous at, proved to be the first difficulty. The second being the actual cold turkey. And when I say difficult, I mean agonising. I locked meself in. Sealed the door magically for the course of one month, knowing full well if somming went pear shaped or if I miscalculated the amount of food I’d need I was done for. Then took me own voice. Can’t do magic without it. It was… terrifying to say the least. But it would be only for a month, yeah?, no biggie. And I was so wrong. I cried and screamed in silence for the most part, I tried to scratch me skin off, I even bit meself to bleed. Was cramping, sweating, trembling. Couldn’t walk, only crawl. Couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to eat. The only reason I recovered me will to survive was that I remembered if I died now, I’d go to Hell. So instead I went through Hell and cleaned up. That’s it. That’s one of the most difficult things I’ve been through.”

RAINSTORMS: What helps you fall asleep?

“Surprisingly enough, since I’ve done a lot to fuck up me sleeping pattern in the past, I don’t have trouble falling asleep. If I’m tired, I can just doss down anywhere. No going-to-bed rituals needed. Guess it’s been a great perk while I was roving around, occasionally sleeping in public libraries by day or in pedestrian subways when I was really unfortunate. As of today, I think the only requirement for me to fall asleep is that I am actually tired. Simple as that.”

[spellsandpixiedust]

✄ : Anything you wish you could cut out?

Childhood Questions!

“Between everything and nothing, ye mean? Nah, that’d be unfair anyway. I had an okay childhood, overall. And even what was shitty about it made me who I am now. What I wouldn’t miss are all those times I was an embarrassingly pathetic weakling. Like all those times I hid away in long abandoned weaving mills and behind dustbins in the ginnel hoping I’d outrun the ruffians and they’d go find another wanker they could do over. There’s nothing to learn from those memories. I mean, yeah, it’s a shitty feeling getting caught by the coppers and have yer arse dragged to the id-parade, but ye learn. Ye won’t make it so easy for ‘em to catch ye next time. When yer mum yells at ye for whatever reason, ye learn to hide yer secrets better. If someone gives ye a shiner, ye might get better at throwing punches yerself, but there’s absolutely nothing ye gain from knowing ye’re pathetic. That’s what I wish I could forget about.”

[spellsandpixiedust]

☺

Childhood Questions!

☺ : Best childhood memory?

“How embarrassingly soppy and cliche, but I gotta pick family holiday. And not those wanky trips to the Welsh coast or - god forbid - Cumbria. I mean when me mum and I went to West-Berlin in summer and occasionally around Christmas, too. We’d visit me grandmother; what a wonderful person. Warm and loving. She even tried to learn English for me. Blimey, it was horrible! And it didn’t quite prevent me mum from forcing me to learn German either. It did help me make friends, though, even if I could very well understand what they meant when they called me an Inselaffe. But I was exotic and an attraction and for the course of a summer I got to get along with most people just well. I loved it there. The neighbour’s kids, me nana, …even me mum seemed more loving. And of course this city. This bloody marvellous city surrounded by a concrete wall amidst the enemy territory. Fuck, I swear, I always felt like this city was me. Surrounded by enemies, bereft of me other half, and bloody rebellious. Ye don’t know what a real fuck you looks like if ye haven’t pissed against the Berlin wall, got caught by the coppers who did nowt but give ye the thumbs up. Everyone loathed the wall. I loved to hate it. And I loved to love this city and the time I spent there.”

[spellsandpixiedust]

☣ : Worst influence on you as a kid?

Childhood Questions!

“ ‘s probably what me mum’s been asking herself all the time, too. Wouldn’t that be wizard? If there was this one uber-bad bloke in me life that tempted me to stray from the righteous path? Someone who taught me nasty curses, talked me into burglary and made me gay? Yeah, that’d be easier for everyone, innit? Because a bloody thirteen year old can’t think for themselves, can they? I don’t think there was a particularly bad influence in me childhood. Sure, maybe I’d been less a rebel if me mum hadn’t been so strict. Maybe not summoning demons to learn from would’ve done me good, too. Whatever. I’m not saying I didn’t hang out with the dodgy folks. But I honestly can’t tell whether I’ve just sought out like-minded people or whether they truly influenced me. Yeah… maybe they did. Maybe all the Twenty Four Hour Party People were bad for me after all.”

[spellsandpixiedust]

♫

Childhood Questions!

♫ : Favorite song?

“Kinda hard to pinpoint, really. I remember loving The Beatles when I was very, very young. Yeah, little Billy loved to sing along to A Hard Day’s Night and all that. It wasn’t until I discovered Led Zeppelin that I wanted to become a musician though. Stairway to Heaven was everything. This. Bloody. Song. One of the best songs ever written and performed and I shall fight anyone to the death who dares to object. Of course T.Rex and Queen get an honourable mention. And New Order, especially Blue Monday, since that band’s been the first I’ve ever seen live on stage. But if I had to pick just one for me childhood, it’s definitely Stairway to Heaven.

[spellsandpixiedust]

Clock thing + 1992.

Send me 🕗 and a year and I will give you a glimpse at what my character’s life was like at that point in time.

When eighteen year old Liam Talbot moves to London in late February 1992, it’s love at first sight. For about two decades Manchester had been the coolest city in the UK, especially music wise, but the capital is stirring. Clubs, bars and pubs are on the rise, the music scene shifts from North to South, and with great music, great drugs aren’t long in coming. Above all the city remains surprisingly egalitarian. Everyone can join in, and Liam makes sure that he does.

His biorhythm is forced to a ‘party at night, sleep by daylight’ mode - if he does sleep at all. In which case he seeks out libraries to sleep for a little while or crashes at someone’s place, no matter he’s only met them at the party the night before. Notting Hill, Clerkenwell and Camden are the places to be, with parties and and their matey-villagey feel. No one suspects the mage not to be a mate’s mate, or that he turns all Nicky Wallet on their pissed arses.

Nicking sweet pictures of the Queen from drunk party people is not enough to satisfy Liam’s criminal penchant. He begins testing his limits and the extent of his magic in burglary, which quickly brings the Scotland Yard’s own angel detective inspector to the scene. A rivalry ensues, yet Liam manages to avoid getting his arse landed in prison.

When the IRA bombing on the 10th of April (already the second terror attack that year) costs three people their life, Liam shortly loses interest in pursuing his cat and mouse game with the police. It is around that time that he meets with Scottish businessman Nicholas Lockhart, and they both fall in love. Liam moves in with Nick and together (with Liam insisting) they attend the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert at Wembley on April 20th and The Cure’s Wish Tour concert at London National Ballroom on May 3rd.

Though their relationship turns sour when Nick attempts to throw Liam out for no apparent reason. They argue and Nicholas ultimately wins, leaving the teen heartbroken and dangerously hurt. Liam prepares a love potion and forcefully continues their relationship for another two weeks, until he finds out about Nick’s wife and daughter and runs away.

In order to numb his pain he resumes his rivalry with the police and seeks solace in ‘disposable fun’, having several affairs in a short time. Since the legal age for homosexuals to have intercourse is set to 21, it is Liam’s pretend age at the time. His very real nineteenth birthday on July 7th though he celebrates all alone, having a piss up that leaves him with not much memory about this day in total.

By August he’s forced to leave his beloved London to avoid being caught by the Scotland Yard for his ever so growing more insolent and cruel display of criminal energy. He steals a car and drives to Cardiff, enjoying its lush, evolving rave ‘n club scene. Restless though, he moves to Ireland, until by November he decides it’s safe enough to return to England. In early December he’s reached York, but when he learns about the Manchester bombing, he feels the sudden need to return home.

When his train arrives at Manchester Piccadilly, Liam doesn’t get off, instead travels to Liverpool, where he stays for the rest of the year.