~Nightshade Lach~ • U S E R N A M E •Lioth• V I S C E T ~ N A M E •Nightshade Lach• V I S C E T ~ G E N D E R •Female• O R I G I N S •Russia, the time of grunge• F A V O R I T E S •Grunge music, ear pearcings, concerts, hoodies, the night sky, Lemony Snicket books, the color purple• W O R S T S •The norm, regular people and things, the color orange, and *Nightshade shivers* summer•|°•°|•
• P E R S O N A L I T Y •Whoever said grunge went out of style? Not Nightshade! She still believes that Grunge and metal are in, and she prefers to dress herself that way all the time, including a fancy cuff earring. (Nightshade is also secretly addicted to Meatloaf)
Odd | Old-fashioned | Loyal | Monotonous | Strong | Intelligent• Q U O T E •"Just because something is traditional is no reason to do it, of course." -Lemony Snicket• T H E M E ~ S O N G S •Life Is A Lemon by Meatloaf
Du Hast by Rammstein • S T O R Y •Nightshade stared at the empty streets of Berlin, Germany. The streets reminded her of many good times, but also times when the entire city was divided in half. Despite being born in Russia, Nightshade had grown up on the streets of Berlin.
Nightshade remembered a time where the wall kept so many families apart, and she prayed for them before turning away. As she walked, the metal of her cuff earring clanged in the silence.
She knew that the starry theme of her hair fluff stood out in the night, but it was dark enough that she was unnoticable. A few people moved around her but she was focused on was getting to the shop.
The shop was a small one, nestled between family owned restaurants, marketplaces, and other assorted businesses, but the matte black paint made it stand out. Band posters covered most of the windows along with a set of bars so the only way to see inside was to go inside.
She stepped inside, the distant smell of incense wafting through the air. A song by Rammstein played quietly and a woman stood at the counter with a magazine. "Welcome to Unkonventionelle Branchen," the woman said flatly. Nightshade nodded at her before wandering around the store, peeking at different accessories.
She found a galaxy patterned ribbon that matched her hair and a feather that could hook to her earring. She shuffled up to the front counter, setting them down and waited patiently while the woman rung up her pieces.
After she had paid, the woman gave a brief wave and went back to reading. "Danke," Nightshade said before leaving the store. The streets were still dark, but in the distance you could hear the shrieks of thousands of people.
Quickly enough Nightshade slipped on the ribbon and attatched the feather to her cuff. Off she ran, the feather flying gracefully in the wind as she headed to the north western part of town, the source of the sounds. When she arrived the sight blew her away. Everywhere people were covered in black leather and chains. Rammstein stood onstage, singing in words that came from their heads.
"Willst du bis zum Tod, der scheide
Siie lieben auch in schlechten Tagen
Nein, nein
Du, du hast
Du hast mich
Du, du hast
Du hast mich
Du, du hast
Du hast mich
Du hast mich
Du hast mich gefragt
Du hast mich gefragt
Du hast mich gefragt
Und ich hab nichts gesagt
Willst du bis der Tod euch scheidet
Treu ihr sein für alle Tage
Nein, nein
Willst du bis zum Tod, der scheide
Siie lieben auch in schlechten Tagen
Nein, nein
Willst du bis der Tod euch scheidet
Treu ihr sein
Nein, nein…"
The roar of Berlin's fans overtook any words Rammstein may have said then, and Nightshade always remembered that night, for that was the night she realized how much she truly loved Berlin.
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This form is so long I'm sorry my gosh.