“Would it be possible to resurrect her from the dead?”
Fantasia’s voice can be heard, but she cannot be seen; instead a black screen that appears momentarily, before fading into the scene in which she was in. Harsh rays of light obstructed the camera lens, a spectrum of colours creating an opaque facade before it, eventually dissipating and the view becoming clearer, the light cascading through the tall-arched, oak window that was on the wall behind her. Fantasia was sat on a large, brown-leather chesterfield armchair behind an extortionate desk made of the finest birch wood that centered the room, copious amounts of documents covering the surface with the cast of a crimson hue upon them; sunlight seeping through the wine glass that was placed besides them on a marble coaster. Although hidden from view, her legs were crossed in a feminine fashion, an off-shoulder, tartan jumpsuit clinging tight to her petite stature. Rubies adorned the sides and the strap that wrapped around her arms, her brunette marcel-wave wig elapsing onto her shoulders in elegant folds and only slightly masking the golden choker around her neck. Her makeup was cohesive to the formal attire; a soft contour with a delicate application of rosy-blush, a bold red coating her plump lips with a dim beauty spot pressed against her cheek. Her facial expression was sincere as she spoke to someone on the phone, her emerald eyes barely visible through her squint.
“Annie, I mean she’s the only one who was executed out of the five. You’ll find the others elsewhere.”
“I’ll go to the Industrial Revolution filming set, and the others should be with you by tomorrow.”
A muffled, deep voice can be heard from the phone, not recognisable but most likely a member of the crew team.
“Perfect, don’t be late either. These girls on the season don’t like their episodes coming out late.”
She turns off the call and pushes the chair backwards, striding towards the door as the camera pans backwards before her, following her as she leaves the office. Once exiting the door, it was clear that she was within the manor, most known from season two; the signature, decadent decorations upon the towering walls and velvet curtains becoming apparent. The continuous sound of her heels against the polished, wooden flooring echoes around the establishment, the camera stopping as she halts at the top of stairs, her acute, viridescent nails coming into view as they tapped against the banister. Switching to behind her, a dark silhouette can be seen at the bottom of the stairs, looking up before coming into focus.
“Starry?”
“Yep! It’s me.”
Starry Wisdom, finalist of Reddit Dragula 2 comes into view, standing with supreme elegance and a broad smile across her face. The scene briefly switches to a montage of her on the season, showing her winning Branded by Music floor shows, and many other iconic floor shows, such as her Ghost Town. The original scene eventually returns, her remaining in the same position.
“Them crew guys really got aggressive since my season didn’t they? They got me in that car in a rush, plus they arrived early, I’m guessing it was hosts orders thou-”
Starry is interrupted mid speech, Fantasia hugging her abruptly after having ran down the stairs, her tight grip practically vanquishing Starry’s ability to breathe before she let go.
“I’ve missed you so much queen, you wouldn’t even know.”
“Them messages every month asking me if I’m ok and would like to judge say otherwise, I’m pretty sure I’d know.” Starry responds, clearly joking as they both laugh.
“Welcome home ghoul. Let’s get to work.”
The camera closes up on the two before the scene fades to white, an animation of roses blooming across the screen occurs with the text: REDDIT DRAGULA appearing amongst the blank canvas.
WEEK 7 | THE MANOR
The title sequence dissolves into the new scene, the animated roses being replaced by real ones that were placed within a chic vase on top of the glass coffee table, the camera focusing on the cardinal petals that had began to blossom. The two sit down together in the living room, both on the sofa that was placed in line with the faux-fur, white rug beneath them, a gradient of orange hues upon their profiles that was cast from the scorching flames within the fireplace, the ever so slight sound of the fire crackling heard beneath their voices.
“It’s been so long. It feels so strange to be back, honestly, and to see it so empty now that it’s not being used for season 3.” Starry leans forward, scratching the back of her head before turning to take in the room, stricken with nostalgia. “How are the girls this season anyway?”
“They’re really talented writers, and it’s very tight competition. I’m really proud of all of them, you know me though, the seasons have their qualms and we’ve been through a lot with quits and disqualifications.”
“Someone stole Red X’s role then by the sounds of it.”
“Someone? More like 5 people. But yeah, It’s been really fun so far and I’m grateful for all of them.” Fantasia responds, staring into the fire.
“So where is Annie anyway? I’m presuming she’s coming back for this task too?”
“I mean she’s where she was left off, at the Industrial Revolution site.”
The scene cuts to an entirely different setting, the one of which the Industrial Revolution floor shows had took place: a stranded factory within a desert, momentarily blocked from the cameras view as swarms of fine granules of sand swirl before the lens, dissipating as the wind slows down. The dilapidated factory still remains standing, although neglected by the decades it had endured alone, abandoned with no use; gargangous holes in each wall and metal railings hanging loosely off them, slamming into the bricks with each strong gust of wind that blew past. The camera follows the dark silhouette of what seemed to be a broad man, most probably a crew member, striding towards the train tracks outside of the building at which Annie was executed. A strained voice can be heard, almost at the pitch of a banshee's scream, clearly dehydrated with little southern accent apparent.
“Please tell me Portia’s kart dress is gone and that the steampunk theme is over.”
The voice grows closer and closer as the camera continues to prosper forwards besides the man, the shape of a ‘woman’ clearly visible besides the tracks, her back against a wooden barrel.
“Please tell me I was put out of my misery on all star-”
The man comes to a halt in front of the figure, bending down and offering a hand. As the woman takes it and is pulled up into the lights, it is revealed to be Annie Depressant, season two fifth place and past season one contestant. The scene cuts to a short montage of her winning ball submission, and other great floor shows such as the New Orleans challenge. Cutting back, she frowns at the camera for a second in confusion, then back to the crew member, quickly wiping the blood from her face to make herself more presentable.
“Y’all are filming? Am I being saved? Was I cast for another season of Dragula?” Annie begins to ask a severity of questions, being pulled along by the man towards a car that had parked up, the exhaust roaring and the radiant headlights turning on, blindening her as they headed towards it.
“It’s bosses orders.” The man responds, opening the door for her and gesturing her in.
“Boss? I hope it’s not Bianca, or BossBrooke. What if it’s Fantasia?”
She enters the back of the vehicle, sitting down on the leather seats and taking in the luxurious leather interior; silver accents applied to the wheel and down the sides of the seats, traversing along the floor. Annie’s reflection can be seen in the window mirror before the car begins to drive off into the distance, her voice growing quieter and quieter before the clip ends and switches back to the original scene.
“I can’t wait to see her. Where are the others though?”
“I mean, they should be here any second now.” Fantasia looks over to the pendulum clock, her coming out of focus and instead the hands that pointed to 8pm.
“Did anyone call for a delivery?”
The sudden introduction of a familiar voice can be heard, powerfully booming through manor halls. Starry and Fantasia both turn around in perfect synchronization, their eyes squinted as they attempt to peer into the entrance room to see who had arrived. The grand piano situated in the corner of the room begins to play dramatically, a continuous crescendo of notes as the unknown queen progressed further forward, aligned in chorus with the sound of her heels against the floor.
“Oh god.” Fantasia flusters, beginning to sweat. “I’ll need more of this.” She reaches for the bottle of red wine on the table, Starry slapping her hand and reminding her of her age.
“I’m here, a robbed queen at your service.”
A large shadow dawns on the pair, the camera slowly turning around from their scared expressions to the queen, revealing it to be Bianca Bibancos, runner up on Reddit Dragula one, winner of Reddits Drag Race two and professional website maker. The scene quickly cuts to a montage of her floor shows, including her love sucks floor show, wicked witch and hollywood execution scenes. A sinister grimace spreads across her face, staring down at the two before she walks forwards to the back of the sofa with pride.
“3 wins.”
She raises 3 fingers on her right hand, whilst keeping eye contact with Fantasia.
“2 highs.”
Bianca then drops a finger, getting closer to Fantasia’s face.
“Oh and don’t worry, Portia isn’t in this.”
With her other hand that was hidden behind her, she holds up a paper bag and drops it on the table besides her, suddenly snapping out of her intense recall of her stats.
“Are we filming too? Oh, now this is finally a good episode now that I’m on it.” She points to the cameras, smiling at the camera crew who vividly remember her. “So, what’s going on then guys?”
Bianca walks around the furniture and takes a seat on the same sofa, in between the two, looking at both of their shocked faces and frowning back.
“I mean, we were waiting for the rest of you too. Any idea of where they are?” Fantasia queries her, prodding her in the arm.
“Oh, they’re outside. I told the crew members to make them a bit longer so I could have my dramatic entrance. They’ll be in here in a second.”
They both frown at her, the sound of pounding on the door echoing through the halls from the entrance room, them witnessing the door being bashed into, eventually swinging open. Two queens stumble in, holding onto one another to regain balance and fix their posture, sighing and fixing their wigs. Their dark silhouettes begin to walk towards the room, the intensity of the wall lights growing higher to reveal their identities.
“Before anyone makes a paper bag joke-”
The first queen steps into the room, revealing it to be Portia Bella Mushroom, season two finalist and furry connoisseur, the montage that appears featuring her winning challenge performances, such as her branded by music floor shows, zodiac signs and her musical debut verse.
“Well, I don’t know what I was going to say. Just don’t make one.” She glares at Bianca, before breaking out into laughter.
“You did yourself so dirty with that damn bag.” Bianca looks back at her, then to the queen on the right.
“Well, I was second in stats anyway, so beat it queens.”
Elle comes further into the light, smiling at all of them and then waving at the camera crew, looking around and taking it all in; remembering when she joined as a competitor from the judges panel in this specific room. The scene cuts to clips of her best submissions, featuring her New Orleans floor show and her Industrial Revolution floor show. Portia looks her up and down, cringing at her statement.
“You were third.”
“No, second.”
“Third.”
“Fantasia, who was second in stats?” Elle looks down at her. “Prove to her that I’m right.”
“I don-”
“Don’t ask Fantasia, she can’t do maths. Just ignore it, as if you two are discussing stats when I should be the one talking about how I was robbed.” Bianca interrupts Fantasia, waving her finger at the two and tutting at them as they come to sit down on the other sofa.
“Well, anyway, Annie should be here in a bit, that’s everyone we need for the episode. Thank you all for coming, I know being so crusty is hard for you all but we’re here now.”
“You have the audacity to call me crusty even though I’m younger?” Elle looks at the others, more significantly towards Portia. “Keep the episode.”
Portia rolls her eyes and attempts not to laugh, instead looking into the fire, away from the girls.
[PORTIA]: It feels so great to be back. So many great memories here.
Portia looks up into the corner of the confessional room, the camera panning into the sudden white mist that forms. It’s a flashback to the manor in season two, when she competed.
“IN THE BOTTOM? AGAIN?”
Miss Steak stomps through the entrance room and into the lounge, throwing her heels at the wall.
“AND KORN SAID THIS RANT WAS EVITA LEVEL, HOW DARE SHE.”
The scene then cuts to the upstairs landing, Smacahoe getting out of drag and heading to the bathroom, a predator following her from behind.
“DID YOU JUST WIN THE FUCKING VAMPIRE CATEGORY?”
Hettie screams, throwing her tampon prop which she used for The Ball challenge at Smacahoes head.
“AND THEN STARRY THE GOLDEN CHILD GETS AWAY WITH EVERYTHING.”
Miss Steaks voice can be heard from down stairs, eventually fading out as the flashback faded back to the confessional room in present time. Portia snaps back to reality, wiping the sweat off her forehead.
[PORTIA]: Nevermind, just get on with the episode.
A loud bell strike sound occurs, an obsolete black appearing and ending the start to the episode. Appearing in its place is the returning shot of the main stage from the prior episode, Angie Apathy on the far right as she gulps, looking down to to the bottom two, Cassandra on the Sardonyx, that held and hands and were evidently nervous; their skin pale and heavy breathing easily heard in the dead silent room as Angies decision was awaited.
“This was such a hard decision, both of you are similar in track records, everything about you from a competition aspect is very similar. So, this did not come with ease.” She sighs, tapping her heel against the stage and looking down momentarily. “I have chosen…” .
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The camera cuts off. The sound of a winters breeze can be heard; the noise of it’s sombre whistle loud and the occasional roar of a strong gust of wind bashing against the windows. The camera eventually turns back on, the lights within the dark room slowly becoming brighter, the familiar smell of damp wood and ancient antiques fulfilling the air around; evidently from the thousands of books that were kept in the towering oak bookshelves that had became apparent. It was similar to a library that you’d see at an extremely posh university, only that it was unkempt; the wooden panels amongst the walls rotting with damp traversing up them and staining the floors, thick sheets of dust coating every single surface within the room. Apart from the orchestra of nature outside, it was ever so quiet, the camera panning down continuous rows of bookshelves, the gentle light catching onto the golden, embroidered text into the bridge of each novel that rest upon them. A dark figure could be seen at the end, walking down the rows and sliding their finger against each book, clearly looking for a specific one. The camera turns to the left, revealing the types of books they were looking at, the text reading: ‘Sardonyx’s Stories: 1’, the text remaining the same on every single one bar the number that showed which number story it was in the collection of thousands. Turning to the right, the figure had grew significantly closer, the camera panning up their body as they reached for a higher shelf, their face furthering into the light and revealing it to be Sardonyx. She grasps for a book, continuously jumping in attempt to reach it but availing to no success every time, instead causing a tremor in the weak flooring that vibrated amongst the wooden floorboards. A close up of linear crack in the one she stood on occurs, watching it as it grew and branched out to the other floor boards, Sardonyx continuing to jump causing the crack to grow wider and wider. She stops, and looks down from where the sound of creaking came from, noticing what had happened, gasping and attempt to walk away, almost clear from danger before her last step was too late. The floor collapses from beneath her, a horrific scream heard and the crackle of bones as she slams against the basement beneath. Looking up, she calls for help, her strained voice echoing around but gaining no attention; she was a lone. The bookshelves began to creak, tilting towards the hole, the books beginning to fall on top of her. One by one they buried her, each one making her screams for help more mute as they filled the hole in the floor. The constant crackle of bones continues, before the shelves eventually collapse themselves, one last bang heard as they fall before the scene fades to black.
“Sardonyx. This pains me a lot, but out of the two of you, you got critiqued slightly a harder and this is the second week in a row that you’ve received similar critiques regarding sparseness and signs of rushing. I love you as a person, you’re fierce and a funny queen that I’ll always treasure in my heart, and so will the others. You have a family here, a bunch of queens ready to watch you come back in the future, to watch you continue improving up and up to the top on other seasons, and celebrate the legacy you’ve made here. Please don’t walk out of here thinking this is an act against you, you’re loved, and you have so much potential. This week was just not your week.”
Sardonyx nods, a tear trickling down her cheek as she turns to hug Cassandra, who eventually leaves her to walk to the back of the stage. Fantasia walks up and hugs Sardonyx, gripping her tightly.
“Sardonyx, you will forever be a beautiful, funny ghoul, one that made us laugh, no matter what we were going through. You were a light we very much needed this season, and without you, it wouldn’t of been the same. Don’t leave here being down, you’ve came from RDR and proven to everyone out there what you can do. You’re such a massively talented queen, and I’m expecting you to go far in future competitions, and even far further in life. This is only the start, and we always have a home for you here.”
She nods, the two letting go of their hug as she wipes a tear from her eye.
[SARDONYX]: It’s so hard to leave, I wanted to continue going in this competition. I loved competing, and I want to keep trying wherever I go next. Love you all.
The girls all wave her goodbye before she walks to the back of the stage, opening the doors and stepping into hallway, the scene fading into a white light as she walks away.
WEEK 7 | BOUDOIR ROOM
It’s the day after results, the top 5 queens pour into the room, evidently tired and still upset about the elimination from the night before. Heading to the communal table that centred the room, they all sit down, quietly looking at one another as the purple lights grow brighter to signify the start of the episode.
“Welldone Angie!” Erathelle taps her back, congratulating her. “Second win in a row, good job.”
“Thanks Era! It was something that I didn’t expect.”
[ERATHELLE]: I’m so happy for Angie, because Erangie, but I need to make sure I win this next challenge otherwise I think I might be screwed for my chances at the crown.
“Yeah, good job.” Anita joins in, smiling at her.
“That was a hard elimination.” Indigo sighs, looking to Cassandra which slowly comes into focus at the end of the table, who was clearly upset. “How are you doing Cass?”
“I’m happy to be here, but it’s hard to go through. I’m not exactly having the best time ever elsewhere, so being in the bottom and seeing Sardonyx is go is hard.”
All the queens nod in unison, understanding her emotion.
“I’m very grateful though to be here, thank you Angie. Means a lot.*
“It was hard, and I was thinking about it for a long time. If I was in the bottom, I’d want a lot of thought to go into it, so I respect that and do it myself.” She responds, rubbing Cassandra's shoulder with support.
“It’s the top five though! Celebration time, let’s have fun. If that Pandora's Box comes back out though, I’m gonna fight it.” Erathelle jokes, changing the mood of the room. “But seriously heifers, I’ll destroy it.”
“Let’s hope no queen is in there then.” Cassandra chuckles.
“That’s a first, a queen outside of the competition experiencing the wrath of Erathelle.” Anita throws some humorous shade.
“Where was this comedy in the challenge?”
The queens all laugh together, a light-hearted moment that was cut short; the sound of a powerful stomp interrupting them as Fantasia enters. She slams open the doors, striding to the front of the room and standing in position, a harsh red light cascading down onto her.
“Everything ok Fanta?” Angie looks at her, worried by how pale and tired she looked.
“No, I have had the week from hell.” Fantasia declares with spite in her voice, nobody sure why or who to. “I have had to live with a bunch of crazy queens in preparation for this challenge, and It’s not been fun.”
She turns around to fix her wig, before revealing a smile in hopes of presenting herself in a better mood to the girls.
“Now, congratulations all for making top 5. A journey it has been. As the competition grows closer and closer to the end, you are expected to include at least one or more cores in your floor shows. Whether that be horror, glamour or filth, the choice is yours. This week however, that changes.”
[INDIGO CHILD]: Oh god, that doesn’t sound too good.
“This episode will allow you to focus on all three cores, more specifically your strongest, and your weakest. And lo and behold, there will be some pretty cool environment choices to go with it. You are going to do two floorshows, your first will focus on your strongest core, whilst your second will focus on your weakest. It’s not that simple though…”
Fantasia takes slow steps around the table, tapping the back of each chair with her talon-like nails, the tension in the room rising to supreme measures.
“Since we have had so many queens walk these halls in the past, I decided that some of them could tag along, as each and every one of them have a core that they’ve mastered in their own way. As they say, two heads are better than one, and this week you may just need the two to save yourself from going to the grave, if you want a spot in that top four. And, we’re doing something we’ve never done before.”
The girls glare at one another, and then back to the Fantasia, which now stands still at the end of the table.
“We’re going to do what we call hybrid floorshows. For the first time in Dragula history, two people will appear in the same floor show, at the same time, in the same environment. That means, whoever you are partnered with will be presenting their own look in the same environment, and you will have the opportunity to interact with one another.”
Erathelle looks gagged, the other girls sharing the same level of shock.
“Call it your masterpiece, two supreme queens of dragula working together to form one of your final pieces of art, one that will give you the chance to prove to me you have what it takes to win and hold that crown above your head. Now, I forgot to introduce what past girls we’re having, didn’t I?”
Five spotlights turn on, lighting up the stage in their individual spots, no one present within the lights. An eerie quietness circulates the room, the queens furthering off the edge of their chairs and squinting to see if they could see anyone. The five veterans step into the spotlights, revealing Bianca, Starry, Portia, Annie and Elle Crimson.
“Ghouls, please welcome Bianca Bibancos, season one runner u-”
“Winner.” Bianca interrupts, smiling at the girls.
“Starry Wisdom, season two finalist and critically acclaimed golden child of the cast.”
“Hey queens!” Starry smiles, waving at the girls.
“Portia Bella Mushroom, season two finalist and first-hand victim of the paper bag.”
“You guys know me already, but hey again.” Portia grins, nodding towards them.
“Annie Depressant, season one contestant and season two fifth place, when she’s not sexting Angelique she’s showing her best glamour.”
Erathelle and Cassandra pretend to gag.
“That’s enough filth for one episode.” Cassandra whispers to Erathelle, both of them pursing their lips and trying not to laugh.
“Hey queens! Nice to meet you.” Annie winks at them.
“And last but not least, Elle Crimson, season two finalist, or otherwise known as the finalist of every other season you can name, just not the winner.”
“Oh you shady bitch, It is my brand though. Hi queens.” Elle also waves.
“So, before we assign pairs, let me explain the challenge more. Your first floor show, let’s call it your masterpiece floorshow, is where and your partner will both individually pick your strongest core. If you both pick the same one, one of you should switch to your second strongest core, and if you want can still include the first. Basically, your first floor show should include two cores, your partners strongest and your own. It is freestyle, but your looks should fit into whatever environment you choose quite well. Your second floor show is to show your weakest core, and is done alone, only written by you existing queens. However, the veterans are here to give advice if you must need any. It will also be done to the theme of a past floor show challenge, which will be enlisted below.”
BREAKDOWN EXAMPLE:
To help make this challenge easier to understand, pretend that me and Smacahoe were partnered. In the first floor show, each of us must pick our strongest cores to show. I pick glamour, she picks horror. We write the floorshow together if possible, and both of us have a segment where our looks are shown. Then, we both interact with the floorshow, all in one, not in separate submissions, in the same floor show. Basically, we both appear in that floor show. You can still include other cores in your look, but it should predominantly be the one you chose.
The second floor show, I, as the existing competitor would complete myself. Let’s say I choose Filth to be my weakest core, I must do a filth based floor show (even though I can include hints of other cores to be more impressive) to a past theme/challenge from the options enlisted.
“Your environment options for your masterpiece floor shows are…”
THE LAVENDER FIELDS:
The saccharine smell of lavender circulates in the clear air around, no hint of pollution to be seen, nor no clouds in the azure-blue sky. The camera pans above the copious amounts of flourishing lavenders amongst the continuous fields, seamlessly covering each one and appearing never-ending, the ground nowhere to be seen bar in the slight paths that ran in between. A facade of white fairies whirl before the camera lens in the air, mystically flying above the lavender and occasionally coming to rest upon them; dandelion seeds being blew from the patches that grew around the circle of cherry-blossom trees in the centre. The large roots of each tree embask into the ground, connecting at the centre of the clearance where hundreds of varying of beautiful plants grew, a concoction of the purest of white roses, the most delicate of bluebells and more lavenders, prospering up the roots and creating closures around the tree trunks. Fine granules of golden glitter also circulate in the air, refracting the amber rays that cascaded down from the sun and resting upon the petals of the plants. At night, the sky would be lit by thousands of stars, and the circle of blossom trees would be accompanied by a series of white fairy lights that wrap around the branches and emasculate the shape of the blossoms that bloomed from them.
Environment Limitations: You cannot leave the fields, nor enter them via a gate. The fairy lights only operate at night, and you can interact with them somehow despite being wrapped around the trees.
THE ASYLUM:
The scene opens out to a long hallway, dimly lit by a sickly-yellow hue, cast by the cheap lights that are strung loosely from the ceiling, wires exposed out of the sides of the cable covers causing the bulbs to flicker. The constant contrast of dark and light makes the area way creepier than it already was; thick, splattered blood melded into the abraid brick walls, paintings of nooses and words of the sinister psychopaths that once were contained here staining the dingy-green tiles. The hallway was littered with obstacles; rusted hospital trays with mahusive needles leaking unknown fluids that seemed to be like green sludge, and acute scalpels resting upon the cold steel, pushed by the spine-chilling breezes that often flooded the area. To the right were the cells, no different from the outside; the same monotonous tiles on the walls, the putrid smell of damp apparent as it escapulated up the walls, marking them black with the smog of dust coating the small bed in the corner. Although everything suggested that the asylum was no longer in use, puddles of what was assumed to be vomit seeped into the cracks in the cell floors, droplets of blood within them. In the lone room at the end, a two way mirror is present, a panel of controls and switches before it, controlling the electric chair in the other room that could still be used, the wires leading to a headset that would be used to electrocute the patients. Another door can be seen, ‘morgue’ labelled on a metal plaque upon it, leading into artilleries of containers that contained the bodies of many. The intermittent sound of a laugh could also be heard, echoing through the shallow walls.
Environment Limitations: You cannot conjure up a place in the asylum that has been mentioned or start outside to enter in. You can operate the electric chair to some extent, all cells are open already.
THE CHINA TOWN:
The strong, pungent smell of fish is present, rising from the continuous amount of market stalls down the linear, cramped passageways; salmon and other uncooked fishes lying down in the splintered crates, lit up by the cardinal lanterns that hung from the roofs, warm orange hues lighting the area bar the occasional neon sign, hanging in between the building walls. Pearlescent lights of red and blue are reflected by the puddles in the paths, leading up to the open space were more of the market stalls gather, a fake, smaller version of a open chinese shrine in the centre. One of the buildings was accessible, opening into a miniscule kitchen, flooded with sweating staff that struck down against meat with acute steel knives, the camera lens briefly misted by the steam rising from the pans of boiling noodles, the roaring flames under the hobs and sound of gas growing louder and louder as the night went on. Outside of the kitchen, near the shrine was an Japanese influence area, a sushi bar out in the open with people sitting around the marble conveyor belt counter top, lit up by more red neon lights of japanese characters.
Environment Limitations: You cannot start in the city just to access the China Town, although you may start behind the entrance if you want to. The kitchen is the only accessible building room, everything else is outside.
THE AIRPLANE STRIP:
The opening scene is a shot of a deluxe, black private jet, lit up by several spotlights within the ground and parked up in the hangar. It had many small windows, and the wings were lined with golden strips, the door open and unravelling a set of stairs leading into the luxurious interior; cream-leather seats with champagne glass holders, plenty of foot space and velvet flooring. A wine fridge was installed into the side of the first seat, lit up by the nearby LED strips that were installed along the roof and floor. Outside of the hangar was the vast strips of the airport, lit up by the large red and green lights embedded within the runways. Strong gusts of wind blew past, battering against the tall control tower which was also accessible, the hexagonal top filled with control panels and radios, with an open view out to the night sky and city in front of the airport. An outside terrace part could be accessed, the scenery of the city that was flooded with lights before it. Back on the ground, containers that held neon batons could be accessed, used by the operator staff.
Environment Limitations: Of course you cannot have the jet in flight, but you may operate the door if you choose to. You cannot start in the airport or access it, the only space is the hangar and the runway strips.
“Now, these environments may seem really strange, but they all can be used in their own ways for each core. It’s going to be interesting how you pull this off with such strange environments, and I love all of them. The options for episodes that you have for your second floor show are Zodiac Signs (S2), Industrial Revolution (S2), New Orleans (S2), Branded by Music (S2), California Ghouls (S1), Extra Terrestrial (S1), Love Sucks (S1), Wicked Witches (S1). If your chosen episodes involves a ball like format, or more than one category, stick to just one of them. Remember, it must resemble your weakest core, and if you need the link to your chosen episodes then message me.”
The queens fan themselves, attempting to take in all of the information.
“For pairings, I’m assigning these based on a multitude of things. What the existing queens need to improve on that the others can do, opposing styles, cores, their preferences, and so forth. Your pairings are:
Bianca Bibancos and Indigo Child, you both have completely contrasting styles with some similarities that could work really well together, Bianca had you as one of her preferences, you don’t know one another much and Bianca’s style of writing could help you widen your talent Indigo.
Elle and Cassandra, Cassandra, you have shown quite a lot of cores, but I feel mostly filth and glamour, whereas Elle is very much all 3 but has a lot of horror incorporated. Your styles are vastly different, and I think that her attention to detail can show you where to apply your attention and what smaller details could do with more that you haven't considered yet.
Starry and Anita Dragname, you both are complete opposites in terms of style, Anita, you’re more glamour based which Starry can do very well, but she incorporates a lot of filth and usually references like you did when you had floor shows about your Asian culture. I think you could work really well together.
Annie and Angie Apathy, Angie, you’ve proven to have shown doing horror and glamour very well, and sometimes filth, Annie, you’re one of the best glamour queens of the past and even though that doesn't sound exactly like opposites, I think you could both combine to make a piece of art and work really well with one another.
Portia and Erathelle, Portia, your style as compared to Erathelle’s is completely different, you both are good at doing horror, although Erathelle is more prominent at doing that. You both could really go any direction, and yet again, like the other pairs I think you could both work well together.”
[ERATHELLE]: Stunning, now let’s get this show on the road.
“My ghouls, if you have any problems please do message me, and make sure you message me what episode you choose for your second floor show. Good luck!”
Fantasia walks off, the veterans walking down to the table and greeting their partners, the scene fading out.
[END]
This is a hefty week, so please don’t get stressed out, I’m always here to answer a message to help out understanding anything.
Sardonyx, I love you to pieces, you’re one of the most comedic queens we’ve ever had and you sure as hell have showed them girls that you can slay anything, from books to looks, and I couldn’t thank you anymore for competing. Do not feel upset, this is not the last we have seen of you.
SPREADSHEET: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1kj0eQkPjOjJ5WMmH8Ps3XcGH0q32aZGrXxfv1_v8vj8/edit?usp=sharing
Submitted October 21, 2018 at 01:19AM by bbukrpdr https://ift.tt/2EBGI1w
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