She had nothing left.. as she stood by her fathers grave - surrounded by a mist of figures in black.. they seemed like a blur of people pass her by with supportive touches on the shoulder and gentle pats on the back - almost like the wind..

She was dressed in the only black dress she owned.. the only dress she owned for that matter.. everything seemed to be a repeat.. after losing her mother so young at the tender age of 6 and now her father at the age of 23.. they left her nothing but wealth...money...estates..
Her father was a man of much wisdom and few words.. of much knowledge and little arrogance.. for his dynamic and unquestionable mind was worth millions.. yet all she knew was her father was an explorer; a revealer of mysteries; a scientist; a professor...

One day on her usual walks in the crowded market; a ball rolled to her feet.

But it didn't look like your average street football like she assumed..
It was the size of a tennis ball
Bronze colored Heavy and covered in pattern work; so intrinsic and captivating that it seemed to suck her in...
She picked it up covered in mud and dirt and decided to take it home
It seemed like the perfect distraction
...and this was not a coincidence....

Solitude

Now, It ends

What's Left Behind

From an extreme to the other.

"From heaven to hell"  is 50% AR 50% Hans Zimmer,  how?  you ask
 
it was our submission in the hanszimmerwantsyou contest, 
Hans created a track specially for this contest, and as mentioned in the rules, we had to follow in the melody's footsteps, with some kind of a remix...but we couldn't help but kick in our thing.

So the first part of the track is the main melody Hans made specially for this contest, and the second part is pure AR 

N.B:the percussions are Zimmer's 

From Heaven To Hell

Across the veil of time

"A cold winter breeze cracked the window open and the laughter and excitement creeped in for Christmas morning it was then.
With an ill will Frank got up, dragging his lonely feet down the steps. With sleep filled eyes and a blurry view, twinkled some red and green lights into the view. A dozen wrapped gifts sat perfectly under a beautiful Christmas tree; sat neatly where he expected them to be.

Slowly he unwrapped the boxes for the big reveal, out came though a long buried squeal. Up the stairs Frank climbed once more, dreading that saddening sight that is covering the floor. For you see Frank wishes every year, for someone to love, to hold near. But year after year the reality breaks free, to the sight of a pile of receipts to those self bought wrapped presents sitting neatly under the tree."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Story by: Margo Magdy


FRANK

It is one of the usual dark, cold nights in Paris. Not only it is dark, but also foggy and somehow lonely. At the end of the boulevard, comes a tall, young man, covered from head to toe in a black, long coat. The coat is pitch black, it is even difficult to distinguish the young man from his gloomy surroundings. 

Only his sharp eyes pierces the air, with smoke exhales from his thin lips, tightened around his half-burnt cigarette. Laughs and filthy words come from ladies of the night; wearing bright colors and standing seductively on both sides of the boulevard, calling for the young man. 

He swings his eyes lightly between them, carelessly with his hands fisted inside his coat pockets. His tension is growing with every breath he takes in. He walks and walks. Something doesn't feel quite comforting. He takes two steps in one. A little faster… A gasp escapes his thin lips and the cigarette drops, he raises his head a little further and his eyes widened. Runs without looking over his shoulder...
==============================================
Story by: NJ Bakr


"He's not dead yet?"

DECEPTION

"I sense you coming closer
I can feel your cold breath on my neck
Oh... How i longed for your possession of me

Finally you heared my screams
Come closer... Breath in your bitterness
Come feed on my ashes
Guide me to your heaven

Death, You are my only escape
Please don't turn your back on me
Save me from myself
Inside me, a burning hell

Unlock my soul
Heal my wounds
Inject your sharp nails
Into my rotten skin

Leave me to bleed
Invite others to watch
How i drown in my despair
And win this battle of misery"
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lyrics by: Margo Magdy
Vocals: Miral

Sweet Salvation - [ Ft. Miral ]

Last Night

"Preconscious" is a new original track by AR composed for an imaginary Horror/Thriller Movie Scene

Preconscious

"For a while, he lost faith in his best friend. A friend he called a brother, soul mate, and partner in crime. But the only crime done here was betrayal. 
He got one last phone call from his so-called friend, telling him how much he was desperate, falling apart, in need of his best friend. Like the loyal man he was, he went for him, with a small hunch something wasn’t right.
His so-called friend was on the edge of the roof, crying, telling him how much he did him wrong. Our man’s heart sank, asked him to back off of the roof. Taking a few steps in he asked for his hand, but he slipped. 
“Take my hand” our man said, “help me”. His so-called friend crooked a smile on the corner of his lips, and said “Still loyal, huh? See where it got you?” As our man realized the hole he fell into, he realized his friendship was a lie.  Knowing there’s no way back up, he let go of his hopes and dreams. 
He knew he was deceived.
He was a lie.
As he fell hundreds of stories, quick flashes of his perfect friendship shattered.
Why did I trust you? But it was too late now…
His ghostly memories falling.
Breaking.
Dying."


Music by: Augmented Reality
Story by: NJ Bakr


Falling

A lavish french restaurant
A dead body of a noble man
A girl wearing a black and red coat next to him
Police everywhere
Girl taken to the police station
The Chief Interrogating the girl

Interrogation Room:


Chief:    "What's your name?"
Girl:       "Ophélie"
Chief :    "So, Ophélie...tell me...why did you kill the count?"
Ophélie:  "Non, monsieur, it was not me!"
Chief:     "Now, now, mademoiselle, surely it can not be anyone else, you were the only
              one at the scene of the crime. Non?"
Ophélie:  "Non! There was someone else there!"
Chief:      "No one saw anyone other than you!"
Ophélie:  "But there was! I swear monsieur"
Chief:      "Very well, can you describe that person?"
Ophélie:   "Bien sûr! There was a lady...she was wearing a red and black coat, hooded...
               She came to the count and whispered something in his ears..."
Chief:      "Did you hear what she said?"
Ophélie:   "...yes..."
Chief:      "...So? tell me mademoiselle...what did the lady say to the count?"
Ophélie:   "She told him - whispering in the Chief's ears - goodbye..."

Outro Scene:

Interrogation room door open
Police rushing in 
The Chief on the floor, covered in blood

Outside the police station, a hooded figure
Looking behind, then vanishing in the cramped streets
In its place, a red and black coat lies on the ground...

Ophélie

“We create soundtracks for movies which do not exist” they said.

Two friends that came to know each other through pure chance.
They shared the same idea about building a world out of music.
The idea behind AR started in 2013

Featured in Rock Era Magazine:
http://www.rockeramagazine.com/mag/index.php/interviews/item/1125-interview-with-augmented-reality

Karim Wassim / Hamza Fouad

Augmented_Reality

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