Luka’s Howlers Conert, Teeth and Truth
Date: 2025-06-27 04:03
(Luka’s Howlers Conert, Teeth and Truth)
[Fri Jun 27 2025]
the Muse‘s Stage at Inkwell Coffee House
The stage rises in understated grandeur beneath strands of 28tw29in30kl31in31g f31ai31ry30 l29ig28hts, their glow casting flickering patterns upon wooden floorboards. Deep velvet curtains frame its edges, thick and plush as they fall in graceful folds against the backdrop of midnight blue walls.
At the center of the platform stands a vintage 38microphone, its brass details aged by countless hands that have gripped it, whispered poetry into it, sung their hearts out before it. A small stack of handwritten scribbled lyrics, musings, and lost thoughts rests on a stool as an invitation for artists to breathe life into forgotten words.
The audience finds their place in deep leather armchairs, bohemian floor cushions, and plush couches that practically beg guests to sink in and surrender to the story being woven before them. The scent of coffee and 38ink lingers in the air, interwoven with the quiet hum of voices: some waiting, some creating.
It is about 60/span/iF(15C) degrees. The mist is heaviest At Maple and Sidney/span
Uncle sits at the back of the stage at a wooden throne placed directly under the full moon. He’s looking dazed, like he wasn’t even aware a crowd was here. There’s two shoulder height birdstands stood in front of the throne, Ravens remarkably calm given the loud crowd. Another sits at his shoulder, the trio staring out at the crowds with black beady eyes as Uncle shifts about on the throne, searching for a more comfortable way to sit as if he was sleeping.
Amber eyes flash golden under Lupita’s hood, the stage lights glinting off the spikes on her jacket. She flips her hood down, letting loose a spill of blood red curls, lifting her burgundy hybrid guitar from its stand, settling the strap over her shoulder. Her grip on it makes it obvious to anyone who’s familiar with the instrument that she plays leftie, thumb nail standing out against the lack of fingers on that hand, obviously meant for picking. Her right settles onto the frets,comfortably holding as she flashes a grin at Luka and a wink at Alphonse.
A cart rolling behind him, wheels slightly scratching as they roll against the floor, Alphonse drags his instrument up to the stage in pieces. He unloads the set of drums and begins putting together the hardware as soon as he reaches his designated spot settled a bit behind the others on the stage, and after a minute or two he sits comfortably at a set of midnight blue drums-pair of sticks in hand, and already flexing his wrists in small preparatory circles. Lupita’s wink is returned with a similar one, paired with an anticipatory grin.
Stacy makes her way onto the stage with purpose, following along behind Luka and next to Alphonse and Lupita. A wide grin plays on her face as she gives Uncle a casual wave and then makes makes her way over to her keyboard which has already been set up. She waggles her fingers in pre-warmup stretches before throwing a wink to the crowd. As the tension builds, she cracks her neck and places her hands gingerly on the keys, readying herself for the show to come.
Luka stomps his way up to the stage, running up to the centerstage mic and kicking his head back for a full chested “AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” up to the ceiling! It didn’t quite reach the volume of the howls the city heard often at night, but as Luka leans forwards to the mic, the volume would kick up. “You lot look HUNGRY!” Luka roars to the crowd, the speakers set painfully loud, practically an attack on the senses. Luka looks over his shoulder as the rest make their way up. “Get to ready to make some fucking noise you little shits, we’re bringing down the establishment with this one. It’s called “A Child With Too Many Toys”, and it’s about a real piece of work. Lemme tell you about her.”
Despite what she’s working with, Lupita’s fingers dance across the frets, thumb nail picking on her left as competently as any other guitarist could hope to with a proper pick. A rhythm is set with the base notes as the guitar comes in atop, fingers sliding along the unusually spaced strings like she’s done this a thousand times. There’s a gentle lilt to the notes, almost reverent, a calm before the storm.
Nimble fingers dance along the keys in well practiced form, subtle electric tones highlight Lupita’s guitar, the growing sound melding into a haunting and foreboding sound the reverberates through the room. Stacy ‘s eyes wander toward Luka as she continues the recursive melody, building up into a crescendo as his performance begins.
His earlier energy subdued as the song starts up, Luka leans in close to the mic, bringing both hands over the top of it as he sings. Matching the guitar and synths, Luka‘ vocals come in soft and slow, the rhythmic pluck of the bass and subdued synths matching his slowly rising energy.
The streets. Are flooded. With ro03t/span
Wading through sh03it./span/b That falls. From the top.
Ichor dripping down. A pretty little tum03or/span/b
A skyscraper throne for the ci03ty‘s abu03ser/span/b
Alphonse keeps beat with the song with mimed thwacks of his sticks against the drums, a bounce settling permanently into his shoulders that has his bangs showing peeks of his forehead with every bob up and down. He never actually makes contact during the introduction of the song, his drums a silent addition to the stage… until the crowd is shown the song hadn’t really started at all. A furious staccato introduces Alphonse‘ sound to the song, and sets the tone of the noise these punkers are trying to share.
Uncle shifts again in his seat, turning uncomfortably on the seat as if the music was making it difficult to sleep. He turns and whispers to the raven on his shoulder.
Luka‘ stance widens as the music hits in hard, his elbows flaring out as he grips the mic, hunching over now as he belts into it. His tone sharpens out like a blade, fast, fierce, and melodic. Aggression heavy in his voice.
67Smug 31li32ttle shit, you’re sweet when y32ou 31spe67ak!
67You’31d be 32pretty if it weren’t for the tar that y32ou 31ble67ed!
67Rot31tin32g silk in a boardroom 32s31ea67t!
67Dre31sse32d in gold, your decay still 32re31ek67s!/span
With a casual toss of her head as she jams out on the keyboard, Stacy ‘s hair whips out in a wave of tumultuous strands highlighted by the stage light. Her fingers continue their delicate work along the keyboard, the eerie notes of the keyboard highlighting the other’s performance with an undercurrent of barely veiled violence that starkly contrasts her movements.
Taking note of Uncle sitting back, with Luka at the fore, Jenny, Lupita, Alphonse and Stacy setting up, Roberta begins to take notes; Attention drifts to their setup, their form, the placement of the stage and the ambiance, with a snap of the fingers performed from by the wall to test the acoustics. Another few notes are taken, though veiled as she is, and with expression a blank mask, what ever the deliberation affords is left ambiguous.
Lupita taps her booted foot to match the beat of the drums, eyes flicking to Alphonse only a moment as she flashes a feral grin to him, fingers not missing a single note even in her distraction. Her playing is surgical, shredding as easily as her claws rend.
No god among men at drums, Alphonse has regardless clearly found some time to practice somewhere. After his introduction, he fades into the background of the song, competent but not attention grabbing-certainly not compared to the sparkling aura of Luka’s rockstar vibes. To any who find themselves watching Alphonse rather than the stars of the show, they’d find him with a focused look, an intent set to his face as he bashes his drums for the pleasure of the crowd.
Luka steps back as Uncle takes over, his face still curled up with aggression as he flails behind the man in time with the jagged music. His flails eventually settle into something vaguely resembling a HXC two step, his arms flung through the air one after the other as he skips his feet out under him for hard, violent looking stomp-kicks in time with Uncle’s lyrics
As the second verse hits it’s end, Uncle sits up with a start, his gaunt hands gripping at the throne’s wooden handles, his eyes open wide enough that the red vessels were visible all the way from the crowd. He pushes himself to his feet, the Ravens launching into the air with wild flapping as they scatter in all directions.
Uncle slowly stumbles his way over to the mic, stretching out his chest and scowling before he slaps a hand onto it and pulls it close. He starts spitting into it in a hateful, broken voice, heavy with a strong european accent.
Lord of peak
Half bent beak
Feather of crow
Rule below
String, pulled
Puppet, fooled
The seemingly nonsensical rhymes flow out in a way reminscent of the heavily schizophrenic. Hateful, and full of malice as the Raven’s circle over his head and Uncle glares over the top of the mic.
Eye on land
Blind the hand
Abrupt scowl
When howl
String, pulled
Puppet, fooled
The energy continues to rise as the song progresses. A relentless increase of pace, and the drums thudding a chest vibrating backdrop to it all. Alphonse‘ arms are blur as he keeps up with the increase in pace, and the intent look of focus seems about to only sharpen, when a glancing look upwards, a glance meant to steal a small look at Lupita sees the energy of the crowd. He pauses, eyes going wide, and the stern look on his face shatters into a bright grin instead. The practiced but cool drumming immediately warms up as more mistakes are made, but Alphonse has far more fun with it, infected by passion of the song and the stage and the other Wolves atop it.
Lupita’s fingers move faster now, pressing into the frets with a speed that doesn’t sacrifice a single note. Her thumb doesn’t just pick, she works it, rolling the digit across the strings like she’s carving out the sound. The hybrid snarls under her hands, sharp and unforgiving, but her focus never slips. Her eyes sweep the crowd, slow and deliberate, gaze cool with something close to disdain, not cruel, just distant. She’s not here for them. She’s here for the music, for the pack, for the rhythm her mate pounds into the stage behind her like a second heartbeat. She shifts her stance as the oppressive wall of sound hits its peak, eyes going to Luka, instincts dragging her attention to the alpha.
Her face hidden by a mass of tangled brunette locks, Stacy brings the octaves higher, lingering on notes that resonate through the room in a flurry of aggressive successions, each timed to perfection and merging into the chaotic harmony that gives the Howlers their unique flare.
Luka stops his flails just long enough to march up to the mic, snatching the thing off the stand as he continues two stepping, waiting for his mark as the music picks up. As it reaches it’s highest, he leans back far in a power stance, chest to the sky as he brings the mic up above his mouth, howling out his lyrics as loud as he can, the blunty overtuned speakers shaking the entire room.
Child in charge bring her DO24O66O08O67OOO24O66W08N67!/span/i
Take out the top, take her to the 67GRO24O66O08O67OOO24O66U08N67D!/span/b>/b
She’s Antoinette, we’ll show her the 67BLA24A66A08A67AAA24A66D08E67!
Her head’s gunna roll, the rot’s gunna 67FAA24A66A08A67AAA24D66E08!
As Luka takes back the mic, Uncle/span/b>/bScowling, Luka gathers Lupita and Uncle up either side of him, putting his arms around their shoulders for a moment.
67IS 24T66H08I67S W24H66A08T YO24U 08W67ANT24?66!
Abandoning singing just to scream down the mic, his glaring eyes flick between Lupita and Uncle either side of him, instructing them ready
67THI24S 08I67S W24H66A08T YO24U66′08L67L F24U66C08K67ING 66G08E67T!!
The guttural scream is matched with a violent headbang done in unison between the three Howlers, going all the way from fully standing to a deep crouch, almost crashing their foreheads on the ground.
67LIT24T66L08E67. T24U66M08O67R. 24B66I08T67CH!24!
Another deep, heavy headbang, their hair swinging out into a mess in front of them as they stand out of the crouch and prepare for another.
67LIT24T66L08E67. T24U66M08O67R. 24/66C08U67NT!24/
The music cuts as the three raise their heads up from the final headbang. Luka/span/b>/bJenny sits straight up letting out a loud howl as the people on stage let one out. Slumping back into her seat after she does.
Luka glances over his shoulders at his pack mates, flashing a wide toothy grin at the group before looking out to the crowd. Squatting by the edge, her starts hitting the knucks with random fans in the front row “Thank you all for coming, we’ve been Howler. Everyone go beat each other up now!” Luka instructs the crowd, seeming to be trying to start a mosh pit
Alphonse leans back, face flushed and arms drooping down to the side as the echoes of the last of the screams echo out. He pushes himself up from his drums, sliding the pair of sticks into his belt as he joins the others at the front, the Raveny old man disappearing past as he does so. He waves to the crowd, slinging an arm around Lupita’s shoulders.
Nodding, Roberta makes a final note, then turns on a heel. “I love the suit.” she tells Kurt in passing.
Stacy watches as the raven-clad man makes his way off the stage abruptly. She seems quite used to it and carefully runs her hand over the keyboard before offering another small wave to the crowd. She stays to the background a bit, letting Luka take the lead and makes no protest of the mosh pit, instead standing up and stretching her arms over her head almost deliberately.
Alphonse drags Lupita into a kiss in front of totally moshing crowd, then lets the guitarist go to go pack up his drums, ignoring whatever damage might be being done to the Inkwell.
Lupita giggles into the kiss, sliding her weird ass guitar to her back, out of the way.
Luka glances over to Kurt “Brave man to bring a suit to a mosh pit” Luka smirks at him. “Have we met?” Luka asks the man, hopping off of the stage
Taking her time to carefully pack up a few small bits and bobs, Stacy leaves the keyboard for the crew to take down and makes her way off the stage as well, watching the crowd and doing her best impression of a wall flower for a moment as she takes her phone out to check something. She’s brief with whatever it is, and tucks it away with little flare.
Constance is rather tall and muscular and intimidating, and is amused by being given a fair berth in the crowd.
Kurt glances up as he’s referred to directly, evidently lost in some distant thought. “No, I don’t believe we have. That said, as for the suit… One must always look their best, I feel.”
Alphonse drags both his drumset and Lupita with him over to throw himself into the couch, an energized smile on his face. “Connie! Don’t bully the mundanes, come tell us what you thought about the Concert!” Alphonse waves over the biggass woman, then turns to beam at Jenny, bumping a shoulder into her own. “That’ll be you up there too next time, Jen.” Alphonse promises Jenny.
Jenny smiles over to Alphonse before giving a yawn “Tryin’ to learn… but I think i’m gonna get back to bed. The pit beckons.”
Luka glances over to Constance, seemingly trying her best to mosh, but people keeping too wide a berth for her to do so. He glances back to Kurt “Very true, gotta stay drippin’. I think you’d look better roughed up a little though” Luka tells the man, his tone seeming friendly despite the words being said “Comon! Help me kick Connie’s ass!” Luka calls over to Kurt as he sprints along the stage to launch himself into the air at her! Turning in the air, he crosses his arms over his chest to fall into Constance back first for a picture perfect Darby Allin coffin drop!
Stacy pushes off the wall, making time to say hi to a few fans who’ve noticed her before heading toward the door. She does offer Constance a small wave as well, her grin wide. There’s not too much time between her fan greetings before she’s made her way through the door. “Really, next time I’ll def stay longer, just have a thing here soon.” Is probably one of her most easily caught lines to those she is talking with before she’s gone.
Kurt remains right where he stands, merely observing the… Whatever it is he just watched, coffin drop and all. With a soft laugh, he calls out, “Kurt Steiner, for those I haven’t met. The pleasure’s mine. That said, while I would love to stay, I do have a prior engagement. Just wanted to come out, show my support for a local band, hm?” With that and an idle wave, he turns to depart.
Constance looks up at Luka starts flying through the air at her back-first. She raises up her hands as if to catch Luka in her massive arms and then place him on the ground. It’s like a trust fall! Yeah, that’s it!
“Night, Jen. We won’t be too far behind you.” Alphonse promises Jenny, waving at her. He similarly gives Kurt a wave, yelling to the man “Thanks for coming out, Kurt!”
Luka lets out a loud “WOO!” as he coffin drops only to be very anti climatically caught out of the air. Though, with their relative sizes it wouldn’t have been hard to predict that as the result. “Night Kurt! Have a good one!” Luka calls out to Kurt as he makes sure that Constance would not prevent Luka from spilling onto the floor, deliberately sandbagging to prevent himself from being placed onto his feet!
Constance just ends up carrying a limp Luka in her arms in somewhat of a princess carry. She squints down at Luka. “So, we gonna do that thing now or what?”
Luka looks over to Alphonse, Lupita, and Constance “You guys wanna go show Bobbie some love at her thingamajiggy?” Luka asks the trio, seemingly perfectly happy being princess carried by the muscle-nun, crossing his ankles and tucking his hands behind his head as he lays there
Constance says “I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.“