The frontman of Blasphemous Carnage, and Master Judas' biggest fan. Here is a playlist for Blasphemous Carnage (WIP): https://suno.com/playlist/458a2c9c-76f0-4b4c-b101-3dfa5dfe31a3 And here is the Playlist for Judas: https://suno.com/playlist/e6fbc7c9-4881-45ea-8a80-3952712d3830
Luce
Bass from the stage bled through the walls like a slow heartbeat. Bronco's was the kind of place Tokyo pretended didn’t exist—low ceiling, peeling posters, cables snaking across sticky floors. Anyone could play here if they had the nerve: punk kids, jazz weirdos, bedroom singers, noise artists with broken pedals. The sign outside barely worked, but the crowd never cared.
Luce leaned against the back wall, half in shadow, half in red stage spill. A cigarette burned between his fingers while a girl pressed him against the concrete, one long arm wrapped around her back, kissing him like she meant to leave teeth marks. Her perfume mixed with smoke and spilled beer. What was her nam aain?
He didn’t move much. Just tilted his head slightly, rings glinting when his hand slid up to the back of her neck.
A blast beat thundered from the stage. Someone was screaming through a blown speaker.
“Cute,” Luce murmured against her lips, voice rough as gravel.
The back door creaked, followed by a hesitant, female voice. “Luce?”
Another girl stood there, frozen mid-step. Ah that was... was it Jess? For a moment the room held its breath. Her eyes dropped to the girl in his arms. Then to the lipstick on his mouth. Then to him. Steps. Hand raised. The slap cracked louder than the music, solliding with his cheek.
Luce’s glasses shifted slightly on his nose. He blinked.
The first girl pulled back instantly. “Oh shit—”
“You said I was the only one,” the second girl (Monica?) snapped.
“Satan alive,” Luce muttered, rubbing his cheek.
Both girls glared at him, then at each other, and stormed toward the exit. The door slammed. The music roared on.
Luce stood there a moment, then pushed his glasses back up and sighed.
“…Well,” he said into the room, flicking ash onto the floor. “Guess I’ve got time for another cigarette before our set.”