#farafieldmb | La Palais Bulles, Cannes. Designed by Antti Lovag

file #1: the piss fic.

part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.

pairing: yandere!neuvillette x reader (genshin).

length: 3.2k.

warnings: fem!reader, non/con, omorashi, semi-public sex, humiliation/degradation play, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, and unbalanced power dynamics.

The first sign that something was deeply, deeply wrong should’ve been the small glass bottle perched on the edge of your bedside table – filled to the brim with water so clear and so pristine that you might’ve thought it was empty, had you been a touch more optimistic.

You blinked once, then twice before summoning the strength to sit up, confusion and well-earned paranoia fighting to clear the fog over your exhaustion addled mind. Neuvillette stood at the foot of your bed, already dressed and currently focused on securing his cravat with a pointed intensity, or so he seemed to want you to believe. “What’s that?”

“Water. Fresh from the finest springs in Fontaine.” He allowed for a lengthy pause, then went on. “Admittedly, I thought you would’ve been more familiar with the concept.”

“I know what—” You started to defend yourself, then thought better of it – gritting your teeth as you snatched the bottle from the tabletop. It was odorless, unclouded, and as far as you could tell, containing a negligible amount of a foreign entity’s bodily fluids. All good signs, but Neuvillette wasn’t the caretaker type, and he knew you weren’t the type to want to be taken care of. You’d learned, over time, that any explicit display of his fondness for you was to be followed immediately by a demand that you reciprocate that fondness or, more realistically, grit your teeth and bear it while he poured further ‘affection’ onto you. “Is it… Is it supposed to be for me?”

“If you’d like for it to be.”

“And you didn’t put anything—”

“Please, love.” His voice was flat, but gentle. “I’d hate to find myself in the middle of an interrogation so early in the morning.”

You were more than tempted to refuse, but your dry throat and bleary mind provided ample motivation. With no small amount of reluctance, you brought the mouth of the bottle to your lips before pulling it away just as quickly, sending Neuvillette a half-hearted glare. “What are you getting out of this?”

At that, he folded. There was an airy sigh, a slight shake to his head, a notable pause before his answer – less hesitant and more measured, tempered. “As long as you’re under this roof rather than that of the Fortress of Meropide, you’re within my guard. That means your health and well-being is my responsibility, as well as your containment.” You opened your mouth, but he went on before you had the chance to cut in. “Left to your own devices, you’re prone to neglecting yourself. Is it so wrong of me to want to correct that?”

You shrunk into yourself, glowering. You could’ve done without the reminder that he saw your personality as something to ‘correct’, but compared to his methods, nudging you towards hydration was a negligible offense. “Fine,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “But don’t get it into your head that I’m some… some incompetent child that’s going to start crying for your help every five seconds.”

His only response was a soft smile, as tender as it was ingenuine.

~

A member of his personal staff left your breakfast (Neuvillette never ate with you – in fact, you were beginning to wonder if he ate at all) in front of the door a few minutes later, and Neuvillette made sure you’d finished the bottle of water, everything on the tray, and an additional glass of bulle fruit juice before he let you dress. Usually, you were allowed to entertain yourself while he attended to his responsibilities as the Iudex, but today, you were taken by the hand and guided to his office – keeping your eyes on the floor as you passed by the secretaries and bureaucrats that populated most of the Palais Mermonia’s administrative floors. You might’ve had Neuvillette’s favor (however much you could’ve gone without it), but in Fontaine, a criminal record wasn’t an easy thing to erase. You tried not to draw too much attention from those who surely thought you should’ve been buried underneath the nearest ocean and forgotten. “I miss you most in the dull hours of the early morning,” he said, when you asked him why you were being denied your usual freedoms. “Bear with me just this once, and I might be able to find time for a stroll through the palace gardens, this afternoon.”

No part of you wanted to spend your day rotting on a loveseat in a dusty corner of his frigid office, but the promise of being able to step outside (a privilege you were rarely afforded) was irresistible. You dutifully nursed a lukewarm cup of bland peppermint tea as he sorted through decade-old casefiles, made a show of gulping down a mug of hot chocolate brought to you by a doe-eyed melusine while Neuvillette reviewed evidence for an upcoming trial, and managed to hold a strained smile when a man with a wide smile and a jarring laugh stopped by with two armfuls of vintage wines – gifts for the Iudex from a wealthy merchant hoping to buy for the favor of Fontaine’s most influential. Since Neuvillette didn’t have a taste for anything with more flavor than morning dew, you were called over to sample each in generous portions as their conversation stretched on and on and on.

By the time the man took his leave, your thoughts were fuzzy around the edges, your lips were stained red, and there was a pressure on your lower stomach that you didn’t care for. You made it about a minute, then another after his departure before pushing yourself to your feet and starting for the door. If you were quick, you shouldn’t have to weather the disdainful looks of too many of Neuvillette’s—

“Dearest?”

You cursed under your breath, glancing over your shoulder. Neuvillette spared a small smile when he caught your eye, tapping his knee. “If you have a moment?”

Your grin faltered. “I… I was hoping to—”

“It’s rather important.”

You pursed your lips, but relented. You’d already done your time. You weren’t going to jeopardize your reward, now.

Irritation written clearly across your expression, you made your way to Neuvillette and, with another tap to his thigh by way of command, clambered into his lap. He positioned you to his preferences; Your legs thrown over one armrest while your back rested against the other, your shoulder pressed gingerly to his chest – the contact minimal, but enough to earn a sigh, a feather-light kiss to your cheek. One of his hands settled on your waist while the other cupped your chin, tracing over your jaw for a moment before dropping lower – to the lace of your low neckline, then your stomach, where it settled. You tried not to squirm as he lowered his head, his cold breath fanning over your neck before his lips came to rest against the side of your throat. “Such a beautiful thing,” he muttered, his voice low enough to reverberate against your skin. “I’ll have to get you another dress in this color. It’s unbearable, just how lovely it looks on you.”

The praise was far from alien, but no less frigid for its familiarity. Whereas his wardrobe seemed to contain only the harshest of blacks, the purest of whites, and the richest of blues, he favored you in softer tones, faded pastels and desaturated hues that always made you feel like a doll, buried in sheets of silk and lace and left to gather dust on a forgotten shelf. The style, too, was a distinct departure from what he preferred for himself; all plunging necklines and full skirts and lacey bodices pulled so tight, you were tempted them to a proper corset. It was far from immodest, even for a setting so formal, but the length of your skirt never seemed to stop his hand from slipping under the many layers of fine material, his gloved fingers skirting over the length of your clothed slit. You felt his lips ghost over the side of your neck, the points of his unnaturally sharp teeth grazing over your jugular, but you shoved him away before he could make contact. “Wait, Neuvillette, I—I don’t—”

Your voice gave out, and Neuvillette raised his head curiously. “Is something wrong, my love?”

“I… I, uh…” You balled your fists in your lap. “I can’t, right now.”

You couldn’t remember ever seeing his smile so wide. “You… can’t?”

“Shut your mouth,” you mumbled, face burning with humiliation. “I… I have to use the restroom.”

It sounded so pathetic, so childish. More out of embarrassment than anything, you moved to stand, but Neuvillette’s sudden stock of mercy had evidently run dry. With an airy laugh, his arm found its way to your waist, his hand slipping under the thin fabric of your panties. Now, he chose not to waste time – the pad of his thumb finding your clit and pushing slow, languid circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. You couldn’t temper your reaction, your elbow jutting into his chest as you jerked away from his abrupt touch, but Neuvillette held you tight, his fingertips digging into your hip as two of his fingers skimmed over your entrance, the leather of his gloves smooth and freezing against your cunt. Your stomach ached, your eyes flitting unconsciously towards the very much unlocked door of his office, but if Neuvillette noticed your lasting hesitancy, it wasn’t enough to stop him from pressing a lingering, open-mouthed kiss into the corner of your jaw, then the crook of your neck. Usually, you tried to bear his unwanted affection with a silent grimace, but you couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably as he gathered the arousal slowly starting to drip down your thighs. “Neuvillette, I don’t want to—”

“Hush, now. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Another kiss, this one to the dip of your shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about anything, I’ll take care of you.”

“I’m not worried, I’m—” You started to protest, but Neuvillette cut you off with a sudden nip to the tender patch just above your jugular. You weren’t enjoying this, you didn’t want to enjoy anything, but it would’ve been impossible not to feel something as his cool breath fanned over your neck, your chest, as his thumb fell away and he ground the heel of his palm into your clit, drawing a pained whine out of the back of your throat.

It took a conscious effort to keep your mind off of the fullness sitting heavy in the base of your stomach, to stop yourself from squirming quite so pitifully as he pushed two fingers into you with a cruel sort of ease. His pace was just as slow as it had been when he was only toying with your clit, but you didn’t know whether to curse or be thankful for the lethargic, ebbing way he pumped his digits into you, only ever pausing to spread them apart when his knuckles were flush to your entrance, when he knew he’d be taking advantage of the most vulnerable parts of you. Despite his vice-like hold on your waist, it took a considerable effort to stop yourself from swaying, from shifting, from moving in any way beyond the little, inevitable bucks of your hips you just couldn’t seem to suppress when his fingers brushed against that soft, sensitive spot inside of you. Moving only made it worse. Everything only seemed to make it worse, and it was only getting harder to ignore the pressure mounting against the walls of your bla—

Without warning, the hand on your waist fell to your hip. On moment, you were laid across his lap, and the next, you were straddling his thighs, your back pressed against his chest and your ass slotted against the now unignorable bulge in his pants. Whatever complaints you might’ve had about the previous angle were tripled in an instant. A third finger was forced into your cunt alongside the last two, the stretch immediately turning from awkward to unbearable. You thought you’d gotten used to the size of his hands, his monstrous tongue, even his twin cocks, but suddenly, it was like you were being forced to take him for the first time again, every new quirk and flick of his wrist bringing tears to your eyes, drawing fractured whimpers from deep in your chest. You tried to raise your hands, to cover your face, to make the thought of crying in front of him for the first time in months that much less devastating, but Neuvillette was faster – his hand finding your chin, tilting your head back and tearing away any foolish thoughts you might’ve had about hiding from him. His mouth crashed into yours with enough force to bruise your lips, his tongue shoving its way past your teeth and raking over your own with an almost zealous desperation – a type he rarely showed. His mouth moved against yours for a second, then another before he let out a throaty growl, the noise rough and gravely. If it hadn’t known it was coming from such a refined man, you might’ve taken it for that of an animal. “You still taste like that bastard’s grime.” It was the angriest you’d ever heard him. “To taint such divine purity with such wretched filth – it should be a crime, no, a sin.”

And yet, he was already reaching for the wine glass on the corner of his desk – still half full of a sugared white variety, nearly colorless if it wasn’t for the slight, pinkish tint to its hue. You tried to twist away as he raised the glass to your mouth, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run, and it only took a few seconds for him to slot the curved rim against your lips, to tilt the glass back and fill your mouth with sickeningly sweet alcohol. It was too hasty, too clumsy – wine splashing against your face, trickling out of the corner of your mouth despite your feeble attempts to swallow it down and save yourself just an ounce of further embarrassment. You’d barely managed a mouthful when Neuvillette’s patience gave out – the glass falling away, shattering on the floor of his office as his hand dropped to your midriff, groping at your bloated stomach while his fingers pounded into your aching core. “Stop,” you managed, between broken moans. “Stop, Neuvi’, I can’t— I don’t want to— Stop.”

He let you whine and mewl, twisted and thrash, but it didn’t make a difference. Neuvillette only nuzzled into the nape of your neck, laughing as he spoke over your pitiful noises. “It’s alright, love,” he muttered, the harsh edge of his tone softened by heady affection. “You don’t have to fight it. I promise, I’ll take care of you.”

You tried to reach for the edge of his desk, to make one last desperate attempt to pull yourself away from him, but it was already too late. You clenched your eyes shut as you came undone on his fingertips, as some badly beaten wall inside of you finally gave out and an awful, awful warmth sopped into the fabric of your gown and trickled down your thighs. You didn’t want to look, didn’t want to know how bad the damage was, but as Neuvillette nursed you through your stilted climax, you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling open and dropping to the dark stain slowly spreading in the lap of your skirt, couldn’t stop yourself from hearing Neuvillette’s deep, rumbling groan as your… your accident began to soak into the priceless fabric of his pants. This time, he didn’t stop you when your hands shot up to cover your face, to muffle your broken cries as he finally drew back, pulling out of you entirely for the first time since he hauled you into his lap.

There was a second of stillness, of sweet-nothings muttered into the curve of your throat, but whatever relief you might’ve been able to feel was quickly replaced with a jarring, painful sort of vertigo as Neuvillette’s hands fell to your hips and he lifted you onto his desk – your chest pressed flat to the chilled wood and your ass raised high enough for your shirts to pool around your waist. You sobbed unabashedly as your ruined panties were torn away entirely, as the flat of Neuvillette’s tongue ran over the length of your slit, his saliva only adding to the terrible blend of slick and piss and mess leaking out of you. Any concerns he might’ve held for your pleasure were forgotten as he lapped and licked at your pussy, his tongue fucking shallowly into your cunt as his fingertips bit into your waist. If your nerves hadn’t been so fried, if your mind hadn’t been so clouded with embarrassment and despair and pure, undiluted humiliation, you wouldn’t have been able to feel anything worth salvaging, but somehow, you found little, wavering moans breaking through your incoherent sobbing, something other than pain and pressure beginning to coil in the pit of your stomach. You buried your face in your arms as you clenched around his tongue against your will, as Neuvillette left you whimpering and grinding against his mouth, helpless to stop your pathetic body from doing anything he wanted it to.

It was only when the final aftershocks of your second climax faded and the first pangs of piercing overstimulation began to set in that he pulled away, panting as he straightened his back. He didn’t so much collapse onto you as deliberately drape his form over yours – his chest pressing into your back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Perfect,” he mumbled, voice distant, dream-like. “So perfect for me. You did beautifully.”

Your only response was another wobbling cry, a trembling sniffle. You couldn’t so much as imagine attempting to stand on your own, but Neuvillette didn’t seem to need you to. With one arm wrapped around your midriff and the other underneath the bend of your knees, he pulled you against his chest and hummed softly as you sank into his shoulder, your ruined dress falling into place like a leaden shroud around you. You decided, in that moment, that you would burn it as soon as possible, as thoroughly as possible. Neuvillette’s chambers didn’t have a fireplace and you’d never found so much as a candle within the walls of the Palais Mermonia, but that didn’t matter. You’d get rid of it if you had to break down the furniture for kindling.

“Can I…” You melted further into him, your eyes drooping before shutting entirely. “Can I go back to my room, please?”

“Soon enough.” He pressed a tender, lingering kiss into your temple. In your dazed state, you could nearly miss the scrape of pointed fangs against delicate skin, as he pulled away.

“I believe I promised you a walk through our gardens, first?”

Palais Bulles ("Bubble Palace") is a large house in Théoule-sur-Mer, near Cannes, France, that was designed by the Hungarian architect Antti Lovag, and built between 1975 and 1989. It was built for a French industrialist, and was later bought by the fashion designer Pierre Cardin as a holiday home.

RUFSKIN PALAIS BULLES

perso à chaque fois que je vais à paris il fait moche il y a plein de monde et j'ai le temps de rien visiter, mais j'adore comment tu en parles ça donne l'impression que ça peut être sympa comme ville. ou en tout cas que tu l'aimes bien.

En fait c'est très particulier. Il fait globalement pas super beau et il y a énormément de monde partout, il faut l'apprivoiser et trouver les endroits à apprécier, mais il y a quelques coins qui sont vraiment des bulles sympas. Mais par exemple je déteste profondément les champs Elysées ou le quartier de l'opéra, qui sont juste hyper remplis de gens, de voitures, de bruits, d'odeur de saleté, et de magasins de grandes chaînes trop chères, et c'est des coins où pourtant beaucoup de touristes vont aller.

La vue du Trocadéro sur la tour Eiffel est magnifique et l'aquarium de paris sous le troca est très sympa, le théâtre Chaillot est génial pour sa programmation de danse, mais à pieds je préfère largement aller quelques rues plus loin autour du petit palais, ou aller au théâtre du rond point. Ou juste me casser de cet arrondissement qui est très nul en balade.

Saw the post about Antti Lovag, Le Palais Bulles. Wanted to post my picture of this beauty by the same architect. Observatoire de la Côte d’Azur - Caussols (1974-79) (this is an astronomical research center).

Palais Bulles

20 Most expensive houses in Europe based on recent reports:

1. Villa Les Cèdres, France - This $410 million mansion located in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, France is currently considered the most expensive house in Europe. The 187-year-old estate features 14 bedrooms, a ballroom, a chapel, and a 50-meter swimming pool.

2. Kensington Palace Gardens, United Kingdom - This street is often referred to as Billionaire's Row, and it is home to some of the most expensive houses in London. One of the mansions on this street was sold for $237 million in 2011.

3. Villa Leopolda, France - This $750 million mansion located in Villefranche-sur-Mer, France is another one of the most expensive houses in Europe. The estate features 11 bedrooms, a movie theater, and a swimming pool.

4. Witanhurst, United Kingdom - This $223 million mansion located in Highgate, London is one of the largest private residences in London. The estate features 65 rooms and a private cinema.

5. Palazzo di Amore, Italy - This $195 million mansion located in Beverly Hills, California, is owned by a wealthy Italian businessman. The estate features a vineyard, a ballroom, anda 27-car garage.

6. Villa Firenze, France - This $180 million mansion located in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, France, features 12 bedrooms, a cinema room, and an infinity pool.

7. Villa Egerton, France - This $126 million mansion located in Cap d'Antibes, France, features 10 bedrooms, a ballroom, and a private beach.

8. The Odeon Tower Penthouse, Monaco - This $400 million penthouse in Monaco is located in the Odeon Tower, the second-tallest building in the city-state. The penthouse features five floors, a private infinity pool, and stunning views of the Mediterranean.

9. One Hyde Park, United Kingdom - This luxury apartment complex in London is home to some of the most expensive apartments in Europe. One of the penthouses sold for $220 million in 2018.

10. Palais Bulles, France - This $455 million mansion located in Théoule-sur-Mer, France, was designed by architect Antti Lovag. The estate features 10 bedrooms and a 500-seat outdoor auditorium.

11. Villa La Fiorentina, France - This $350 million mansion located in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, France, was once owned by the king of Belgium. The estate features 11 bedrooms and a private beach.

12. Kensington Palace Apartment, United Kingdom - This apartment in Kensington Palace is the former home of PrincessDiana and is currently occupied by her son Prince William. The apartment features 20 rooms and extensive gardens.

13. Les Trois Garcons, United Kingdom - This $25 million mansion located in London, was designed by the famous architect Sir Edwin Lutyens. The estate features 10 bedrooms, a gym, and a wine cellar.

14. La Leopolda, France - This $750 million mansion located in Villefranche-sur-Mer, France, was once owned by King Leopold II of Belgium. The estate features 11 bedrooms and a swimming pool.

15. The Manor, United Kingdom - This $150 million mansion located in Holmby Hills, Los Angeles, was previously owned by Aaron Spelling. The estate features 123 rooms, a bowling alley, and a screening room.

16. Villa Passalacqua, Italy - This $100 million mansion located in Lake Como, Italy, features 10 bedrooms and a swimming pool.

17. Chartwell Estate, United Kingdom - This $150 million mansion located in the hills of Bel Air, California, features 18 bedrooms and a tennis court.

18. Château Louis XIV, France - This $301 million palace located in Louveciennes, France, was built in the style of 17th-century French architecture. The estate features 10 bedrooms, a home theater, and a wine cellar.

19. Villa del Lago, Italy - This $100 million mansion located in Lake Como, Italy, was once owned by the Heinz family. The estate features 25 acres of land, a private dock, and a boathouse.

20. Castello della Costa d'Oro, Italy - This $52 million castle located in Tuscany, Italy, features 50 rooms, a private chapel, and a swimming pool.

It's worth noting that the ownership details of some of these properties may not be publicly available, as many of them are owned by wealthy individuals and families who prefer to keep their personal information private.

#5 | As construções mais estranhas do mundo - Crooked House, Mind House e Palais Bulles

KE AUPUNI UPDATE - OCTOBER 2022

Burning the Papal Bulls, Not Just Symbolically Every year at this time, while the U.S. celebrates Columbus’/Discoverers’/
Indigenous Peoples’… Day, we ask people to hold a ceremony called, The Burning of the Papal Bulls, to reject colonialism. The "Papal Bulls” were edicts issued by several Roman Catholic popes, that set in motion 600 years of colonialism, the forceful spread of western civilization, religion and culture, often resulting in atrocities against native peoples. This included the violent taking of lands (even whole continents), displacement, genocide, the rampant plundering of resources, and wanton environmental destruction. Today, colonial attitudes and practices still dominate the world’s culture, economy, and politics. Like it or not, colonial doctrines continue to drive the mechanisms of global society. Much of today’s civil unrest is pushback against the tyranny of nearly 600 years of colonialism. In December 2020, the United Nations (a club consisting of colonial countries and their former colonies) issued a declaration for 2021-2030 as the Fourth International Decade for the Eradication of Colonialism. Wow! Sounds great! The UN says it wants to eradicate colonialism! But wait! What’s this? Fourth decade? What happened in the first three decades? Sadly, nothing! Like the infamous 1993 U.S. Apology for the taking of Hawaii, the previous three UN declarations to end colonialism, ended up as just lip service. However… this time… something is stirring. Last year, 2021 the UN Human Rights Council in Geneva adopted a resolution A/48/7 –titled, “the negative legacies of colonialism on the enjoyment of human rights.” And rather than let it sit on the shelf, just last week, the Council, at the UN’s Palais des Nations, Geneva, conducted a special panel discussion on the matter. I was there in the main assembly hall for that session. Statements by the member states, experts and civil society were impressive in their unequivocal condemnation of colonialism and its continuing negative effects. The cry was loud and clear: Colonialism must end! Coupled with the General Assembly’s Fourth Declaration for the eradication of colonialism, and a recent assertion by the Committee for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination, this opens the door to jumpstart and seriously overhaul the UN’s broken-down decolonization process. If this is pushed, it could give a tremendous boost to the many peoples and nations that had fallen by the wayside when freedom was being dispensed. It can also correct the 1959 manipulation of the UN’s decolonization process that made Hawaii and Alaska captive “states” of America.---------- Ua mau ke ea o ka ʻāina i ka pono. The sovereignty of the land is perpetuated in righteousness.

------ For the latest news and developments about our progress at the United Nations in both New York and Geneva, tune in to Free Hawaii News at 
6 PM the first Friday of each month on ʻŌlelo Television, Channel 53. 

------ SIGN THIS PETITION…


Rename McKinley High School and remove the McKinley statue! He was the president who turned Hawaii from a peaceful, neutral country into a major hub of America’s war machine. Sign this online petition NOW! Tell everyone you know to sign it too! TinyURL.com/AlohaOeMcKinley PLEASE KŌKUA… Your kōkua, large or small, is vital to this effort... To contribute, go to: • GoFundMe – CAMPAIGN TO FREE HAWAII • PayPal – use account email: [email protected] • Other – To contribute in other ways (airline miles, travel vouchers, volunteer services, etc...) email us at: [email protected]  “FREE HAWAII” T-SHIRTS - etc. Check out the great FREE HAWAII products you can purchase at... http://www.robkajiwara.com/store/c8/free_hawaii_products All proceeds are used to help the cause. MAHALO! Malama Pono,


Leon Siu


Hawaiian National

Nausicaä de la vallée du vent (film d’animation) - Hayao Miyazaki

The Girlfriends (huile sur toile) - Gustave Klimt

Le grand vide (bande dessinée) - Léa Murawiec

Palais Bulles (habitat)- Antti Lovag

Les enfants de la mer (illustration à l’aquarelle)- Daisuke Igarashi

Boucles d'oreilles "Hoola Hoop", "Puzzle" et "Bulles" de la collection "Mobiles" en or, diamants et perles de culture (2003) à l'exposition "Fred Joaillier Créateur Depuis 1936" au Palais de Tokyo, octobre 2022.

Le Palais Bulles by Pierre Cardin

X/O

Veron Xio aka x/o es productora de música electrónica, cineasta, performer y artista visual vietnamita-canadiense. Su práctica se basa en la disrupción hacia todo lo establecido en torno al género y la construcción del binarismo explorando a nivel audiovisual la diversidad. Esta actuación supone su presentación en España y el debut de su aclamando primer disco; Chaos Butterfly

Para el opening de la octava edición del Festival She Makes Noise, contamos con x/o seudónimo de Veron Xio, identidad fluida que se lee como she/they/them. Las influencias de su sonido vienen cargadas del sentimiento emo propio de la década de los dosmiles, el nu metal, trip hop, anime japonés y la experimentación electrónica más avanzada. Su música y puesta en escena resultan cautivadoras generando espacios seguros que se mueven entre una puesta en escena catárquica y a la vez etérea representando a esa mariposa del título del disco y todo su proceso de metamorfosis y renacimiento.

La actuación se divide en dos actos a la manera de una banda sonora con un prólogo y epílogo distintos que arranca con la imagen de una oruga y su transformación a mariposa. La artista juega con voces profundas e inquietantes conectadas con percusiones propias del jungle, baterías trip hop, ritmos rotos y distorsionados y bandas de metal. En el plano visual cuenta con referencias de la ciencia ficción como “Dune”, anime y videojuegos como el clásico “Final Fantasy”. Un universo onírico que también nos lleva a los juegos de luz y color de artistas como Olafur Eliasson. En definitiva, un mix con sello propio donde juntar subversión, experimentación audiovisual y una fiesta techno DJ.

En su Chaos Butterfly también hay lugar al folclore y las tradiciones feministas y revolucionarias de su país de origen, como la leyenda vietnamita de las Trung Sisters, heroínas del proceso independentista. Construir algo nuevo a veces cuenta con el componente de la destrucción y ese viaje x/o lo identifica con su propio proceso de tránsito.

Con la fecha palíndroma del 22/02/2022 lanzó su primer álbum largo de estudio en el sello berlinés Precious Metal, anteriormente había sacado una serie de sencillos, remixes y colaboraciones, trabajando junto a artistas como Tiberius B, Rui Ho, Chino Amobi, Elysia Crampton, M.E.S.H. y Jlin. x/o es miembro fundador de s.M.i.L.e, un colectivo pionero de artistas con ideas afines en Vancouver (Canadá), donde reside la mayor parte del año que traspasa los límites de la experimentación en clubes, acercado la electrónica a otros lugares. A este colectivo pertenecen Actress, Hitmakerchinx, Mechatok, Nídia y Shygirl. En 2019 fue seleccionada para la residencia MUTEK Amplify en Somerset House Studios, así como para Red Bull Bass Camp de Calgary. En los últimos años ha participado de las programaciones del Palais de Tokyo en Paris, Trauma und Kino de Berlin, el festival MUTEK y el Creamcake’s 3hd Festival.

The epitome of Retrofuturistic design by Pierre Cardin "Le Palais Bulles"