the signal's loud and clear, but the transmitter's gone
Come on down to the sock hop, Daddy-O, are you gonna make the scene?
Drag a bunch of disparate sorts together for a 1950s dance, in a sim built for the 1850's. Shake and stir. Let contents fizz.
Well, we had fun at least.
Fawkes Allen and his overamorous Bike. The Bike first nearly nudged me off the sim, and did succeed in mashing me somewhat successfully between the rails at the train station. Then I hopped on the back and we rode in style to the dance, only pausing when we ran another lady down. Oops!
Then the Bike fell in love with Qlippothic, and she broke his little chrome heart. I don't think the Bike's ever going to be the same...
"Wolfman Jack" Fuzzball, DJ and Sheriff, grooving to the classic platters. Music was great--mix of early rock and roll classics, and soundtrack tunes from Grease, Grease II, and others. And after the dance, of course, VNV Nation. It's a Friday standard...
Miss Qlippothic Projects, showing off her Kremlin finest, with standard operational issue AK-47.
Fawkes reported her to the House Un-American Activities Committee...Mr. Teika Bates and Miss Lumina are in the background, with a brief glimpse of the oh-so-purple me.
Another view of the...erm...gun. Yes, that's it...Though it is an awfully nice coat, very formal, very Russian.
Mr. Edward Pearse, finally free of his convalescence, sadly, still with highly damaged muscle tissue in his arm. He's built a steam-powered contrivance, though, that seems to work well, and goes rather swimmingly with black motorcycle leathers.
Group shot. From left to right, Mr. Pearse, don'tlookChristinedon'tlook, Miss Lumina, Miss Qlippothic, Mr. Bates, Miss Kattrynn, my purple self, Miss Angelica Trescothik and her swain, Mr. Aberdeen, Mr. Fitzgerald, and alas, with only a sliver of her poodle-skirted self showing, Miss Addison.
Miss Trescothik, for reference, is the sister of our very own Sheriff Ortega. And thank you Sheriff, for naming the swain in question. Yay for information!
My camera was not behaving, sadly, or I'd have more images. Lastly...
Miss Christine McAllister, properly clothed.
At some point, I'd like to do this again, but we'll have to have more notice, and I'd like to have a slide-y auditorium floor...!
Drag a bunch of disparate sorts together for a 1950s dance, in a sim built for the 1850's. Shake and stir. Let contents fizz.
Well, we had fun at least.
Fawkes Allen and his overamorous Bike. The Bike first nearly nudged me off the sim, and did succeed in mashing me somewhat successfully between the rails at the train station. Then I hopped on the back and we rode in style to the dance, only pausing when we ran another lady down. Oops!
Then the Bike fell in love with Qlippothic, and she broke his little chrome heart. I don't think the Bike's ever going to be the same...
"Wolfman Jack" Fuzzball, DJ and Sheriff, grooving to the classic platters. Music was great--mix of early rock and roll classics, and soundtrack tunes from Grease, Grease II, and others. And after the dance, of course, VNV Nation. It's a Friday standard...
Miss Qlippothic Projects, showing off her Kremlin finest, with standard operational issue AK-47.
Fawkes reported her to the House Un-American Activities Committee...Mr. Teika Bates and Miss Lumina are in the background, with a brief glimpse of the oh-so-purple me.
Another view of the...erm...gun. Yes, that's it...Though it is an awfully nice coat, very formal, very Russian.
Mr. Edward Pearse, finally free of his convalescence, sadly, still with highly damaged muscle tissue in his arm. He's built a steam-powered contrivance, though, that seems to work well, and goes rather swimmingly with black motorcycle leathers.
Group shot. From left to right, Mr. Pearse, don'tlookChristinedon'tlook, Miss Lumina, Miss Qlippothic, Mr. Bates, Miss Kattrynn, my purple self, Miss Angelica Trescothik and her swain, Mr. Aberdeen, Mr. Fitzgerald, and alas, with only a sliver of her poodle-skirted self showing, Miss Addison.
Miss Trescothik, for reference, is the sister of our very own Sheriff Ortega. And thank you Sheriff, for naming the swain in question. Yay for information!
My camera was not behaving, sadly, or I'd have more images. Lastly...
Miss Christine McAllister, properly clothed.
At some point, I'd like to do this again, but we'll have to have more notice, and I'd like to have a slide-y auditorium floor...!
Comments
Thank you for that, I couldn't remember her name!