A brotherhood whose bond was as tightly woven as a chain link fence, replete with barbs, so that no one passed unless a secret code was uttered. Granted access, you’re hurled through the entryway amid a pulsing undercurrent that spanned continents and moved with stealth through the fabric of time. On the panels of the walkway shadows are projected, dancing ecstatically, scrambling towards a din that ultimately crescendos into a swarm of sounds paired with shimmering lights and beams. Upon arrival, giving up all restraints, you surrender to the Discaire. You discover dance floors for dancers, sound systems for lovers and realise it was as though you had never left.


Divine providence is highly selective of only those fit to serve her purpose: as vessels to convey an important message from a higher plane. By her grace the Discaires have been chosen, becoming her emissaries, to transmit a series of signals for all of humanity. Contained within these folds are the story lines of each Discaire, who separately approached the beacon, imbibed in the glow of its gracious light and became drunk with a new knowledge.

Discaire