Keith Haring, Jean-Michel Basquiat and Bobby Martinez photographed by Andy Warhol at the Factory in New York City, 1984.
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Keith Haring, Jean-Michel Basquiat and Bobby Martinez photographed by Andy Warhol at the Factory in New York City, 1984.
My inner child is happy
Despite all of the controversy around the grumps i still think this was one of the best shows I’ve been to! The community was amazing and it’s was such good vibes the whole time ☺️ I’m not condoning anything that Danny or the grumps have done as of late, I’m just missing nights like these
The man behind the story
“You did what?!” Cecil barked in laughter, head falling back as tears formed under his eyes. “Are you finished?” Nero snapped, folding his arms defensively.
Cecil wiped his eyes on the back of his hand, chest still rolling with the last of his laughter. “I’m sorry dude but really? you made a house call. An honest to god house call for some girl?” he repeated skeptically. “I mean I know I pushed you in the right direction, but I didn’t think you’d do this” he said, eyesbrows both raised as he shook his head. Cecil had know Nero for about 5 years, ever since a one night stand had turned in to a friendship instead of a romantic attachment. “So not only did she not call you the whole week. But you asked her out and she said no?” he asked. Nero shook his head, taking a large gulp of his beer “ She said a bar wasn’t her scene. It wasn’t a solid no” he assured his friend.
Cecil leaned back in the booth they were sat in, adjusting his shoulders slightly so his familiar could rest on his shoulders comfortablly. Ell kept her keen eyes out towards the bustling crowd around them, ready to alert Cecil to trouble if needed. “well sure but then not showing at the market yesterday either. I dont think shes interested man” he said, trying his best sorry frown.
Nero sighed heavily, meeting Cecils eyes across the table “She’s just a little nervous is all. I can still pull anybody in here and you know it” he smirked, a challenge lighting in his eyes. “Care for a friendly bet?” he teased, elbows resting infront of him on the table.
Cecil leaned towards him until they were mere Centimeters apart. “You know it love” he whispered. “stakes?” he questioned.
“I leave with someone by the nights end and you owe me dinner. If I don’t then I’ll supply your honey free of charge the next month” he offered. Cecil hummed softly “sure... but you leave by 11pm. not closing time, thats to late” he amended.
The two men shook hands and Cecil left the booth with a smirk, Ell curling around his arm for a better grip.
Set a week+ after this thread: LINK
Semi-Open RP: Mainly meant to be between @no-escapism and me, but others are welcome in the mix if you find a good spot :)
It wasn't so bad in the Clutter Verse- everyone called it something a little different, with only one thing the same- Clutter. And cluttered it was. Full of people and places and there couldn't possibly be enough room for them all, but somehow there was, somehow it seemed almost empty sometimes. It was strange, but not bad.
Bad was when he looked in the mirror for too long. Bad was when something happened and he just couldn't... Respond.
Bad was when you decline shelter for the night, so you end up shivering on the beach because you don't want to go too far from the only person you trusted here, and then when he comes outside the next day he sees you sitting on the sand so, so tired and you finally accept his offer to sleep over for just one night, at least, and lo 'n' behold- you'd been an idiot and gotten sick from sleeping outside, and you're really embarrassed (must have been super bad for you to feel it) because this person was nice, they made you feel safe and you'd been stupid. You proved to him that you were a total wet noodle.
Of course, it wasn't all that bad, when he got sick. He got to drink hot cocoa and sit on a comfortable couch (after he'd cleaned it of his blood, apologising profusely- there was still red on the fabric) and the occasional bag of popcorn.
He got to hang out in a warm house, and try not to look at everything too much because then his mind would wander, and he'd think about the people he was ripped away from, that he'd left behind.
He was almost used to his new name- Faded- and almost used to sleeping on the couch because it would be pretty rude to take a bed when he didn't actually live there. When he didn't quite belong yet.
He got rid of that horrible ratty nest of an outfit, and replaced with something much brighter. He knew the colors were garish and annoying, that was the point- so people wouldn't look at his bleached skin and wonder, or, heavens forbid ask : what happened to him?
He didn't want to think about it, so he didn't want others to think about it either. The guilt still grated in the back of his mind every once in a while, and he did his best to ignore it, shove it down. He wasn't about to remember which Gem he had shattered, remember their face and their horror in that moment. He didn't want to.
But it was good. Life was good. And he was pretty sure it was gonna slowly get better.
NR90 speeds out of Horsham on the Overland bound for Melbourne by bukk05
2 years since RP3 Cardiff!
I can’t believe it’s been 2 years since Ready Player 3 in Cardiff and since I met Sean before the show!!
We’ve changed a little bit since then!
Miss you dude 💙 @therealjacksepticeye