Masquerade Gala

PLEASE READ THIS FIRST!

2005-06-26T10:44:09Z

Welcome to the fics/graphics journal of helena_rw. Before you read anything here, or use one of my icons please read the following rules:

+ I will NOT tolerate any theft at all. This means NO hotlinking, NO redistributing my work, NO claiming it as your own.

+ Please give credit if you use a banner/icon I have made - either in the User Pictures or on your User Info. If I find you aren't giving me credit, I shall contact you via email and ask that you give credit.

+ If you enjoy something here, please comment - even if you don't want to take it. It makes me feel rather appreciated.

+ I will give a list of image hosts, brush resources, textures, graidents etc. in my memories soon, so you know where to get the stuff I use.</>

Tutorial #2 - Tom Fletcher, McFly (PSE 2.0)

2005-06-18T12:27:58Z

1. First of all, use a very pretty base, like this one I made. (Image Credit: Getty Images)

2. Next, create a new layer (name it Light Effect) and select any brush of your choosing. Then, using white, scribble over the base until you get something which looks a bit like this:

3. Here's the bit where it gets interesting. Go to 'Filter' near the top, go down to 'Distort' and click on Wave. The bit circled in red is where you need to click and basically it randomises where the wave will go. Try clicking it a few times to see the different results you get, then choose one. (Note: If you want, it may help if you use a more visible colour so you can see the results. I just used white because I was rushing.)

4. After you try out different patterns, click on 'Filter', 'Blur', then 'Gaussian Blur'. Set the pxiels to 3.5 - 4, then click okay. The 'light trail' should look a bit more realistic, like this:

5. Hide your light layer, and create a new layer named 'Screen'. Fill this with a deep navy blue (I used #4A4B82) and change the layer settings to Exclusion at about 40 - 45%

6. Create another new layer called 'Patterns', underneath the 'Screen' layer. Here, choose a similar colour (eg. #B8B8D3) and decorate using different brushes you may have. I'm using brushes by miggy found here (she has an amazing talent for brushes.) and experiment. Here, I made a new layer for the text blob down the right hand side. Put back on the 'Light Effect' layer and put it above the 'Text Blob' and 'Patterns' layers.

7. Add text in Book Antiqua, sixe 10 down the side in black, and use Transform to flip this to make it vertical. Then, use the same font (but size 2) to create smaller, non-readable text with lyrics/letters/hate messages/etc... to create something like this:

8. Now personally, I think this is a bit dark, so I merged all the layers together, then duplicated it and set it to Overlay at 70 - 80%. Fiddle around until you fins eomthing you like.

And we have a finished icon! As always, feel free to take it, comment and credit to either helena_rw or masquerade_101.

Tutorial #1 - Padme Amidala (Episode I)

2005-06-15T17:48:16Z

First of all, you need your base. Here's one I made myself, using a screencap from Padme's Wardrobe.

Next, I used this gradient from Photoshop Elements. It's called, Rust, Green, Gold. Anyway, I put this layer on twice. The first layer (the one directly above the base) was set to Overlay at 100%, and the one above it was set to Colour Dodge at 24%. So, the result after this is the picture on the right.

For the next few steps, I hid my gradient layers and went back to the base. I selected a small portion of her face (either the left or right side), copied it, and pasted it across to a new layer. I positioned it to the right hand side of the base to create this:

I decided that I wanted a different gradient for the portion of her face I copied, but I tried a completely different colour scheme and it looked... eugh. So, a better idea is to use a gradient that has a similar colour scheme like... Gold, Teal, Green, and put this on a new layer.

Now, I only want the portion of her face gradiented (dunno if it's a real word. =P) so I went back to the layer with the little bit on. I selected the transparent area on the left. Then I went back to the second gradient, the one we've just added, and cut away the selection, so I ended up with a gradient that looks like this:

This layer is put on top of the one with the portion of the face with these settings: Overlay at 80%. Then, to make the face stand out, you could add a line of about 2 pixels thick in white running down the side, as shown below:

Now, there's the two hardest bits done and dusted. What you need to do now is give you icon a border of about 4-7 pixels thick, and to make the bottom edge slightly thicker... like so:

You could leave it like that, but I have decided to slightly expand this and use the eye-dropper to select colours from the icon and use them near the top. Then, use the font Arial, size 10, to write 'PADME' at the bottom, then switch it down to a size 2 and type whatever. It's not like anyone's going to see it.

And there it is, the finished icon! Feel free to take it, and credit either masquerade_101 or helena_rw.</span>

Music of the Night - Part 3

2005-06-11T13:25:20Z

Title: Music of the Night
Author: Sophie
Part: 3/?
Pairing: PoynterJudd, PoynterJones
Genre: Romance, Drama, Mystery
Rating: 12A/PG-13
Fandom: McFly
Warnings: Slash, Obsession, AU, Violence, Cross-Dressing
Summary: Dougie is haunted by a Ghost during his career at the Opera House. Will he ever break free?
Disclaimer: Boys are not mine, Dougie will NEVER wear a dress, but the plot belongs to me. I am willing, however, to rent out the boys in exchange for cookies.

**********

That night was the performance of Hannibal and I sang the lead role. Box 5 was, as always, empty save for a shadow. After the final act I was bombarded by spectators, receiving several bouquets of flowers.

"We've discovered a new talent in Mr Poynter - ah, here he is now! Our star!" Mr Andre turned his back on his acquaintance. "Mr Poynter, have you met Sir Harold Judd?" The man turned and I stared at him. His hair was long and tied back, and he wore a long elegant jacket. "He's the opera house's patron, he and his family pay for everything."

"Pleasure to meet you." Harold held my hand and kissed it gently.

"Sir, I am deeply honored -"

"Please, call me Harry." Harold (or should I say, Harry) smiled. "You sang like an angel tonight, I was very impressed."

"Um, thankyou." My face and ears turned pink. "You watch opera often?"

"My father took me in my youth a few times, but this is the first show I've seen in a few years." He took out his gloves. "Dougie? That's your name, right?" I nodded. "Dougie, let me take you out for dinner."

"No!" I jumped back slightly and Harry looked at me in puzzlement. "My teacher, I must visit him tonight."

"Well, your tutor must wait for one night." He clicked his fingers. "Ah, I see. I'll give you a few minutes to compose yourself while I get us a carriage." He walked away with a spring in his step and I stormed into what would normally be Alliza's dressing room. I lit a candle near the vanity mirror as I tried to collect my thoughts. Harry Judd, the patron of Her Majesty's Theatre, had asked, in essence, a chorus boy out for courting.

I glanced at my side and found another red rose, this time accompanied by a silver tiara.

**********

"There you are!" Tom raced into the dressing room and hugged me. "You were amazing!"

"Thanks a lot." I smiled, trying to forget the rose and tiara. "I wasn't that good, you know."

He drew back in alarm. "Not that good?! Dude, you were incredible, perfect!" He peered out the door and looked at Harry, who was waiting for me. "He's fit!"

"He seems nice... hey, why are we even having this conversation? You don't fancy guys... right?" I added worryingly.

"It depends. I like a bit of both, if you get what I mean." Tom winked and giggled. "What about you?"

"Um, I like boys." I muttered. Tom gave me a questioning look. "Okay, fine! I prefer boys to girls, happy now?!"

"Fine, fine! Don't panic dude!" He waved his hands frantically. "Anyway... how on earth do you sing like that?"

At that moment I began to stutter. "Um, someone tutors me... I don't know his name, Tom."

"Ah-ha! I knew it, Bouquet owes me ten shillings!" Tom punched the air with his fist. "The Angel of Music came to you!"

"Who?"

"Oh don't tell me you don't know!" he sighed. "The Angel of Music comes down and gives you the gift of song. I wish I got that." Tom clasped his hands and smiled dreamily.

"Tom... how do you know that?"

"My mum told me, just before she passed away... I better go. Ballet people aren't allowed in the dressing rooms."

"Please, five more minutes!" Tom shook his head and left quietly. The words and power he spoke of made me think - could Mr Jones be the Angel of Music? My angel of music?

**********

A mixture of laughter and sobbing echoed throughout the room.

"Is this a joke?" I asked aloud with anxiety as the room suddenly plunged into darkness. The air about me grew colder and I shivered, pulling on one of Alliza's lace jackets. "Mr Jo... Angel?"

"Dougie, I'm here." Mr Jones' voice resonated around me. "I see you've found yourself a suitor. Not the best for you, dear child."

"Master, forgive me..." My body disobeyed my mind and I sank to my knees. "My mind was exhausted from singing... I told him I was engaged, sir, in other business."

"Good, good. For a moment there I thought you would stop your career for a fool of fashion!" Mr Jones chuckled at his own joke. "Come to the mirror, and I will be there."

I walked across slowly, almost in a trance. As I drew closer his face began to come into focus. His hand seemed to reach through the glass and with slight nerves, I touched it. The next think I knew, I was through the glass and walking down the catacombs of the Opera House. Mr Jones was there, leading me on a journey I wouldn't easily forget.

Music of the Night - Part 2

2005-06-06T18:24:07Z

Title: Music of the Night
Author: Sophie
Part: 2/?
Pairing: PoynterJudd, PoynterJones
Genre: Romance, Drama, Mystery
Rating: 12A/PG-13
Fandom: McFly
Warnings: Slash, Obsession, AU, Violence, Cross-Dressing
Summary: Dougie is haunted by a Ghost during his career at the Opera House. Will he ever break free?
Disclaimer: Boys are not mine, Dougie will NEVER wear a dress, but the plot belongs to me. I am willing, however, to rent out the boys in exchange for cookies.

**********

Benjamin's death was the talk of the theatre the next day. Several different theories were mentioned, but nearly all of them lacked a sense of logic. Only the one mentioning the Opera Ghost seemed to make sense. No-one truly understood the disaster, even after the funeral a week later.

That night, I was confused to find a deep red rose on my bed. I picked it up, tugging slightly on the black ribbon bound around its stem. Tom hadn't come back from supper yet, so I placed it back, taking note to tell him about it later. Then I noticed the note, with the same red skull on the envelope as the letter Andre and Fuller had received. Trembling, I opened it and read it, sitting on my bed and my eyes widened.

Dougie,

My dear child, do not be afraid. Your fear of me is unnecessary, as I only plan to assist you in your career. You deserve the success you crave and with my tutoring you can reach your true potential. I expect you on the main stage at ten o'clock, this night, for your first lesson. With anticipation, O.G.

My stomach turned and I scrambled for the bucket under my bed to vomit in. After a few panicked minutes I reread the note, then thrust it into the dresser drawer. I quickly made my way through the deserted corridors to the stage and stood near the piano.

"I see you made it." A ghostly voice called to me from behind and I jumped. No-one was there. "I am here, you're not hearing things."

I gasped. "How did you know? C-can you read my mind?" My hand went to my face as the voice laughed.

"Anyone with two eyes can easily tell what you're thinking. It's in your eyes." I caught the glimpse of a crimson cloak as the figure made its way to the piano. "Now. Your C scale, please." I stepped away, took a deep breath and sang. During it, the figure tutted.

"No, no, no! You sound hollow, like a crock!" It stood up and for the first time I could describe my tutor. It was a man with a dark suit and cloak. On his hands were contrasting gloves, but his most interesting feature was his mask. It completely covered the right side of his face, save from his blue eyes and thin lips. Dark brown hair fell across his forehead in a crudely cut style. "Now, try again. This time keep the tune in your abdomen, not your throat." He stood behind me, holding my hips and supporting my back. This time the notes came much quicker and with noticeable ease.

"Better." His grip on me tightened and his hand moved from my back to my neck. I began again and again, each my time my throat growing tighter and my song more extravagant. After rehearsing my scales I focused on a piece by Handel and my mystery tutor accompanying on the piano. The time seemed to fly by.

"It's late. You must go back to the dormitories before someone catches you." He held out a hand and I shook it, slightly nervous.

"Thankyou, Mr... erm..." He laughed.

"Jones." Mr Jones apologized and I accepted, remembering to use his name. "Now, close your eyes and count to three." I did so without thought of what he might have done to me. Suddenly, the air about me grew cold and I could sense a light drawing near.

Then, I was there, outside my dormitory. A moth fluttered by the candle on the wall and I scurried in. People around me had already asleep, and probably had been for hours. Everyone, that was, except one.

"There you are." Tom waved at me from his bed near the window. "You've been gone for hours! I was getting worried."

"Hours?"

"Yup. We all came to bed three hours ago." Three hours?! I'd been gone for three damn hours?! "Dougie? You're pale, you sure you're okay?"

I nodded. "I've been at, um, a singing lesson."

"At 1am? Well, if it's your cup of tea... it must be the calm of the night." He blew out his candle and we both fell asleep. When I woke up to an identical note and rose as I did previously, I remember my promise to tell Tom. While I read the note that promise had to be broken:

Dougie,

Let me congratulate you on your singing last night. You did a good job and have improved greatly. However, I would appreciate it if you kept our lessons secret and private rather than to tell others. The Ghost sees, the Ghost knows Dougie... and your lessons can stop just as easily as they started. D. Jones.

Over the next six months or so, my time at Mr Jones' lessons gradually increased - so much so that I hardly slept. I was finally given time off in order to focus on my chorus rehearsals, but even through them Mr Jones was all I could think about. Who was the man behind the mask? What would I learn at my next lesson?

**********

"It is finito!" Alliza screamed as she threw her third tantrum that day.

"Signora Alliza! Diva of song!" Mr Andre tried to flatter she, but she threw her tiara at him.

"I will not be singing in the opera tonight, and it is final!"

"Goddess, Princessa Bella!" Mr Fuller yelled after her as she fled the stage. "She will be coming back, right?" Mr Chaplain, the conductor, shrugged his shoulders in confusion.

"Sirs?" Someone called out behind me and I turned. That familiar face of Tom's was back, flushed and creased with concern. "What happened?"

"We are CANCELLING tonight's production of Hannibal as it appears its star has left us!" Mr Andre tore at his letter in anger as the chorus yelled in protest.

"Dougie could sing it!" Tom smiled and glanced at me. My cheeks turned scarlet as the managers looked at me.

"A chorus boy? Don't be stupid!"

Tom wouldn't back out. "He's been taking lessons, and his voice is really high. He'd manage it!" The managers asked me if I could sing an aria for them. I looked at Madame Sauntler.

"Of course he can." she answered as she lead me to the front of the stage. Mr Chaplain played the introduction and I unleashed my voice, letting it echo throughout the theatre. Members of the chorus came back in from their backstage frolicking to listen to the arpeggio near the end.

My song ended in silence. There was the occasional murmur as Mr Andre conferred with his colleague.

"Mr Poynter?" I blushed again and turned back. "How would you like to play the part of Elena in Hannibal tonight?"

**********

EDIT: Oh yes, nearly forgot... _falsesmiles is now the owner of Danny and attractedtoyou_ owns a McFly boy, but she can choose which one.

Music of the Night - Part 1

2005-06-04T20:32:20Z

Title: Music of the Night
Author: Sophie
Part: 1/?
Pairing: PoynterJudd, PoynterJones
Genre: Romance, Drama, Mystery
Rating: 12A/PG-13
Fandom: McFly
Warnings: Slash, Obsession, AU, Violence, Cross-Dressing
Summary: Dougie is haunted by a Ghost during his career at the Opera House. Will he ever break free?
Disclaimer: Boys are not mine, Dougie will NEVER wear a dress, but the plot belongs to me. I am willing, however, to rent out the boys in exchange for cookies.

**********

"This will be your room, Mr Poynter." Madame Sauntler took my cases and placed them beside one of the beds. "You'll be staying in the dormitories for a few months, and we'll see if you can make it in the world of opera."

"Hmm..." I looked about my new quarters and quickly took in the unfamiliar atmoshpere. Two young women giggled as they wound each other's hair into a tight bun. A man sneaked behind a long drape and was greeted by a seductive growl. "Madame Sauntler? What happened to my old tutor?" Madam Sauntler's face fell.

"Ah, Miss Herald... she was called away to another pupil. She worte a letter of apology," Here, she produced an envelope from the folds of her dress. "saying how disappointed she was being unable to continue your education in the performing arts, but from what she's told me you've progressed quite a lot." For the first time since my arrival she gave me a faint smile. "Your chorus rehersal starts tomorrow morning at 9. Do NOT be late." She walked away, pushing people gently to make her way to the door.

My life before coming to Her Majesty's Theatre was quite frank and quiet. My parents had never taken an interest in me and always opted for my sister Jasmine. She ended up attending a wealthy ballet school. Meanwhile, my so-called 'talent' was discovered after my mother invited her friend, who was a singing teacher, for dinner.

"He's quiet, but he has potential." That was what she, Miss Herald, had said before persuading my parents that I needed lessons. Over the course of a year my voice was overworked to its extremes and my training was different in comparison with other boys I knew who took lessons. Even though I had fully matured, my voice stayed at its high pitch and Miss Herald let me make good use of it.

But suddenly, Miss Herald decided that I should go to a professional opera troupe and perform onstage. AFter a few days journey, alone, I arrived and was quickly shown around.

"Heya! You must be new, right?" As I got caught up in a train of thought another boy came and sat next to me. I blushed as he smiled. "I'm Tom, Tom Fletcher." The blonde held his hand out and I shook it warmly.

"Dougie Poynter" Tom smiled once more at my short introduction. "Ah, you're that new boy Madame Sauntler's been talking about. I can't wait to hear you in the chorus, she reckon's you're really good." I turned around and began to change, while telling Tom about myself. "Your dad's a doctor? Woah, that must bring in the money... you have a sister too? Hmm, I must get to meet her sometime - joking!" he stammered when I glared at him. AFter an hour or so of idle gossip our candle burned out. We bade each other goodnight and I slept, thankful to have made a new friend.

**********

My first day of rehersals for the new opera went well, but it was hard to concentrate. Tom, the boy I had spoken to the previous day, kept falling over his costume and sometimes sang the wrong words, but he blamed nerves.

"Those god-damn shoes!" he yelled as he pointed to a pair of ballet slippers. "If they think I'm going on stage in THOSE things then I'm quitting!" Suddenlt, a tall, dark woman pushed us away into a nearby wall and placed her dog on the floor.

"Bitch." Tom sneered and poked out his tongue. "Oh, that's Signora Alliza. Leading soprano for four seasons."

"Is she... nice?" I asked timidly. He burst out laughing.

"Nice?! Never, she won't even say hi to anyone who wasn't rich and handsome, she's such a gold-digger... oh god, here's the manager, act busy..." A man in a top hat, who I presumed to be the manager, entered with two other men behind him.

"Could I have your attention please?" The manager clapped his hands eagerly. "As you know, I reitre as manager and owner of Her Majesty's Theatre today. So, may I introduce my successors Mr Simon Fuller and Mr Peter Andre." The pair bowed and we greeted with applause.

"Thankyou for your hospitality." Mr Fuller shook Alliza hand and she smirked. "Mr Andre and myself have just emerged from the junk business-"

Suddenly, there was a scream from backstage and a group of younger girls rushed in, tears on their cheeks.

"Madame Sauntler!" the smallest girl shrieked. "Benjamin Adamson, the costume designer - he's dead!" Gasps echoed through the building and for what seemed to be the first time ever Tom's mouth was open, but no words came out. "He was strangled, I found him with a noose about his neck!"

Madame Sauntler held her hankerchief to her brow. "Someone, take that girl up to the dormitories. I personally excuse her from rehersals."

The manager bowed his head. "Andre, Fuller... good luck. If you wish to contact me I shall have emigrated to America." He left silently and our new managers looked about in confusion.

Tom coughed. "Sir, there's a letter for you." He shoved a wadded envelope into their hands and they prised awway the red wax skull. The opera troupe turned pale and muttered to one another worriedly.

"Gentlemen," Mr Andre read aloud. "I welcome you to my opera house following the retirement of Mr William Young. May I still request that Box 5 is to be kept empty for my private spectation at every performance and that I am able to roam the grounds. My salary of £30,000 a month is to be payed via the bank. If these demands are not met then a tragedy, similar to the one that has occured today, will fall before your eyes. Your faithful servant... O.G"

"Opera Ghost..." someone murmered. Mr Fuller threw his arms up in anger and accused Madame Sauntler of spinning webs of lies into our minds. During that, I glanced anxiously at Tom. His face had taken on a shade of white and was on the verge of fainting.

"You okay?" He nodded, and didn't speak to anyone at all until rehersals finished. As we got ready for bed that night one of my eyes were kept on Tom the whole time. He was curled up in a ball on the end of his bed and his face was crimson with crying.

"The Opera Ghost, he's back, oh my god..." Tom rocked backward and forth and sobbed hysterically.

"Hang on... he's back? You mean he's been here before?" I asked, quietly getting up and sitting next to him.

He nodded. "You're lucky you don't know... oh crap, I bet you want to know now, right?" Tom sighed as I told him yes. "Right... where to start..."

**********

The pair of us sat on Tom's bed and lit a spare candle. Placing it on the bedside table, I asked Tom to begin the story of the Opera Ghost. He began by saying that someone in the opera house wrote a new opera for them once in a while, one never seen or heard before, and no-one knew his identity.

"I'm guessing it's the Ghost who writes it all. Someone told me he was a musical genius once." I must have had a confused expression on my face at this point. "Well um, he's called a Ghost because no one has ever seen him. We know he's here, but we haven't seen him.

"Oh. Go on..."

"Well..." Tom sat in obvious thought for a few moments. "He's also responsible for some strange events... well, I think that." He took out a bound book and I read, in shock, in-depth reports of death, sabotage, technical faults - the list seemed endless. "I pieced it together myself. Had to ask loads of people 'bout it."

I nearly threw the book back to him in horror. "This book... how do you read it? Are you like, a sicko or psycho or something?" He shrugged his shoulders. Suddenly, our candle burned out and we slowly looked around. "There's no-one here..."

"He knows, the Ghost knows..." Tom wept into his pillow. I sighed, but not without fear.

"Tom? Has the Ghost... ever been to the dorms before?" He nodded.

"Oh yes. But he'll only go in if he has feelings for someone who sleeps here. And let me tell you something - he hasn't been here for years... not until you came."

masquerade_101 @ 2005-05-28T18:10:00

2005-05-28T17:52:13Z

Ah, first post is all about iPod adverts. Remember to comment and credit if you take any.

3 - McFly adverts
1 - My Chemical Romance advert

1.

2.

3.

4.

Riverside Fishing

2005-05-23T19:39:52Z

Title: Riverside Fishing
Genre: Poem
Rating: U (aww.)
Fandom: None
Part: Standalone
Dedications: _ibruiseeasily, shadow_hive, fragments__

It was a bright Sunday afternoon,
And the three of us - Lauren, Nick and I,
Were to go and mess about in the country
Like normal teenagers do
When there's nothing on TV
No-one to go and hang with

We sat on a rock near a river
Dipping our feet in to feel the water.
Nick jumped back and nearly fell in
And it took all of our strength to pull him back up,
Each of us grinning from ear to ear.

We had taken a picnic and ate it near a tree
Our ham sandwiches and cola drinks were sufficient.
Lauren made joke after joke and had me in stitches
And I hit my head off a tree root, but
I still kept smiling, even when
I was close to developing concussion.

The sunset began to draw near
And we took our nets and our bait.
We began a game to see whose fish was biggest.
Mine kept getting away but I managed to save
An old boot, one similar to my dad's.
It was bliss, our riverside fishing.

We set off home near evening, biding each other,
Farewell, before one of us would enter their front garden.
When I, the last one, finally manage to get back home,
I'm quick to realise what I'd missed,
While at that peaceful river.

The cat's crawling up the curtain, my sister's screaming,
Mum and Dad panicking over the supper burning.
Grandad snoring in his rocking chair, Grandma
Singing along to Cliff Richard upstairs.
It's all quite painful to the ears.

As I drift off that night in my bed,
For a few fleeting moments I'm back.
Back to the serenity and peace of the river
Carefree and happy once more.
A world away from the modern age.

I love my urban life, but sometimes,
I'd give everything to bring back those lazy days
Of riverside fishing.