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[[Category:Xanadu]] [[Category:ShadowWolf]] | [[Category:Xanadu|The Hunter]] [[Category:ShadowWolf]] | ||
{{Title|name=Xanadu: The Hunter|author=ShadowWolf}} | {{Title|name=Xanadu: The Hunter|author=ShadowWolf}} | ||
{{WIP}} | {{WIP}} | ||
Coming up with a costume had been difficult. I'd heard about the prizes for best costume that were up for grabs at Xanadu and knew that the competition was going to be stiff - so the choice of costume was going to be as important as the costume itself. Call me a perfectionist, if you want, but when I decide to do something I have to have it all planned out beforehand and then its an obsession, pushing for the perfect combination of all the parts — and when its a costume I don't stop at making the costume, I build the personality, backstory and even create a voice for the character. | Coming up with a costume had been difficult. I'd heard about the prizes for best costume that were up for grabs at Xanadu and knew that the competition was going to be stiff - so the choice of costume was going to be as important as the costume itself. Call me a perfectionist, if you want, but when I decide to do something I have to have it all planned out beforehand and then its an obsession, pushing for the perfect combination of all the parts — and when its a costume I don't stop at making the costume, I build the personality, backstory and even create a voice for the character. | ||
I'd gone through more than six dozen ideas by the halloween before Xanadu. The party I went to that day was thrown by the local costuming group and they'd been tossing ideas at me for costumes the whole time. But that night will remain etched in my memory for the rest of eternity... | |||
{{part|name=The Party}} | |||
"James, did one of the ideas on that list call out to you?" I looked up from the punch-bowl, trying to pick out the person speaking over the din of the party. There he was, Jeff Davies, head of the group and the man behind the party. Three days ago he'd given me a list of ideas that he'd come up with to try and help me figure out what costume to wear to Xanadu. | |||
"Sorry, man. Not a one. The Vampire suggestion was decent, but its been so bloody overdone? To win the big prize I'm going to need something unique and very high quality." My voice was thick with a Souser — that is, a Liverpool area — accent. I had come to the party as a somewhat generic, early 1980's English Punk — something of a cross between Sid Vicious and Johnny Rotten. | |||
"Damn. And with you being a perfectionist you'll need to pick it out soon or you'll never have the costume ready in time." | |||
I snorted and took a sip of the punch. It burned a bit as it hit my gut — spiked already. Not that it wasn't expected, but normally it didn't happen during the first hour of the party. ''Well, if you can't beat em...'' I thought as I drained the cup. When I looked up I saw the huge rack on the wall that had come from a deer killed by Jeff's father twenty years ago. | |||
"Jeff, my grasp of Irish myths isn't too good, but wasn't there a guy that had deer horns?" The question was asked, but even if the answer wasn't an affirmative I had the start of an idea for the costume I'd wear to Xanadu. | |||
He looked at the mounted antlers, then at me and smiled, always happy to share his knowledge of the sometimes esoterich field of mythology.. "Not just an Irish myth. He's called the Hunter and is the master of ''The Wild Hunt''. Supposedly something like a cross between the Grim Reaper and Loki. In some of the myths he's actually ''Odin''. Why are…" His voice trailed off as he realized why I'd asked. Then he smiled again, walked over to the stereo and turned it off. | |||
The room got silent as people realized the music was gone, and the air got filled with tension at the same time. By the clock on the wall I knew it hadn't been but two minutes, but the weight of the tension made it feel like hours, but he finally spoke. "People… Several months ago James MacDonnell announced he was on his way to Xanadu to compete in the costume competition. But he hasn't had any ideas for his costume. A few minutes ago it came to him - he has decided to go as ''The Hunter'', leader of ''The Great Hunt''." As he finished speaking he turned the music back on, but it was drowned out by the cheers of the crowd. | |||
{{DEFAULTSORT:Hunter, The}} | {{DEFAULTSORT:Hunter, The}} | ||
Revision as of 21:55, 21 July 2007
{{#ifeq: User |User| Xanadu: The Hunter | Xanadu: The Hunter}}[[Title::{{#ifeq: User |User| Xanadu: The Hunter | Xanadu: The Hunter}}| ]]
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Coming up with a costume had been difficult. I'd heard about the prizes for best costume that were up for grabs at Xanadu and knew that the competition was going to be stiff - so the choice of costume was going to be as important as the costume itself. Call me a perfectionist, if you want, but when I decide to do something I have to have it all planned out beforehand and then its an obsession, pushing for the perfect combination of all the parts — and when its a costume I don't stop at making the costume, I build the personality, backstory and even create a voice for the character.
I'd gone through more than six dozen ideas by the halloween before Xanadu. The party I went to that day was thrown by the local costuming group and they'd been tossing ideas at me for costumes the whole time. But that night will remain etched in my memory for the rest of eternity...
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"James, did one of the ideas on that list call out to you?" I looked up from the punch-bowl, trying to pick out the person speaking over the din of the party. There he was, Jeff Davies, head of the group and the man behind the party. Three days ago he'd given me a list of ideas that he'd come up with to try and help me figure out what costume to wear to Xanadu.
"Sorry, man. Not a one. The Vampire suggestion was decent, but its been so bloody overdone? To win the big prize I'm going to need something unique and very high quality." My voice was thick with a Souser — that is, a Liverpool area — accent. I had come to the party as a somewhat generic, early 1980's English Punk — something of a cross between Sid Vicious and Johnny Rotten.
"Damn. And with you being a perfectionist you'll need to pick it out soon or you'll never have the costume ready in time."
I snorted and took a sip of the punch. It burned a bit as it hit my gut — spiked already. Not that it wasn't expected, but normally it didn't happen during the first hour of the party. Well, if you can't beat em... I thought as I drained the cup. When I looked up I saw the huge rack on the wall that had come from a deer killed by Jeff's father twenty years ago.
"Jeff, my grasp of Irish myths isn't too good, but wasn't there a guy that had deer horns?" The question was asked, but even if the answer wasn't an affirmative I had the start of an idea for the costume I'd wear to Xanadu.
He looked at the mounted antlers, then at me and smiled, always happy to share his knowledge of the sometimes esoterich field of mythology.. "Not just an Irish myth. He's called the Hunter and is the master of The Wild Hunt. Supposedly something like a cross between the Grim Reaper and Loki. In some of the myths he's actually Odin. Why are…" His voice trailed off as he realized why I'd asked. Then he smiled again, walked over to the stereo and turned it off.
The room got silent as people realized the music was gone, and the air got filled with tension at the same time. By the clock on the wall I knew it hadn't been but two minutes, but the weight of the tension made it feel like hours, but he finally spoke. "People… Several months ago James MacDonnell announced he was on his way to Xanadu to compete in the costume competition. But he hasn't had any ideas for his costume. A few minutes ago it came to him - he has decided to go as The Hunter, leader of The Great Hunt." As he finished speaking he turned the music back on, but it was drowned out by the cheers of the crowd.
