diello | On Wicked Labyrinth (Reply)

I went to a fetishy event called Wicked Labyrinth a couple weeks ago. Of all places, it was in New Jersey. I believed I expressed my initial disdain of going to this show then my retraction of said feelings. So I won't go into that again.

Amber and I drove down shootin' the shit and singing to lots of Meatloaf and Journey. Rock :)

We arrived a tad late and dropped off our things in the room (we stayed in a room, not a tent. Glorious days those were!), changed into proper attire, and went downstairs to join the others at the booth. I met Eliza (finally), Matt, and Cliff. And we all got along right pleasantly. I did some henna, Eliza did some henna, we hung around, walked around and ate.

At one point, a bargain was struck and Amber was sold to a fellow with two other girls for a bottle of smooth 10 year scotch, which I ended up bringing home and eventually devoured over the most recent weekend.

I pined over a certain pirate of the Caribbean of whom I captured no pictures :(

A party was held on the second floor and many pictures were taken and promised and never delivered, so there may be fun pictures of me out there somewhere, but there are only a few I can find and even fewer I will show due to courtesy of friends pages.

At this party, I got wasted on scotch and mead and wine and eventually passed out on the air mattress in our room, but before that there was more fawning over Captain Jack (I also got to hug him several times, and oh, flutter goes my heart just thinking of it). I talked to many people and we had a gay old time minus the butt-fucking.

I also met a rad web comic guy named Jamie who does a fun comic called In His Likeness and we talked for a while about how to get noticed on the web (because Charles and I have a comic we're almost ready to put up- but none of you know about that yet, do you?).

Much went on that night, and much was forgotten, or seemed more interesting while alcohol coursed through my veins. Anyway, the next day was filled with kicking the hangover and then I got this idea for something new to put on my chest... "wishing well." As quickly it was said, it was done, and Cliff took me around offering wishes to be granted (and many thanks to him, for I was far too shy to parade around alone). The rules were that they couldn't tell me their wish or it wouldn't come true, and my wishing senses tingled and sensed their wishes, and I granted them. Many people seemed to have wished for me to jump up and down, or bark like a dog, but I don't judge. Some of their wishes may have just been lost in translation.

Anyway, more fun was had. The only things I bought were from Erica Henderson who illustrated Baby's First Mythos (which was written by the man I understand to be her father). I also bought some stationary and a sheet of Li'l Cthulu stickers. I'm hoping to go back in February and get some more of her stuff as well as a corset. And to maybe grope me some hot Voltaire :)

An end.

PS: Oh yeah... pictures.

These are courtesy of Eliza and Matt:

This is me and my wishing well, and a henna piece I did on my shoulder.