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whumpster-fire · 3 months ago

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To clarify: okay yeah a unicorn's horn is kind of like a lightsaber, the difference is a lightsaber (fictional) has a short beam that will cut through things along the entire length of the "blade," and physically transmits force back to the user when struck. A unicorn's beam works more like a real laser or torch: the beam's movement will not be stopped or slowed down by hitting something, even a resistant target, it will burn away material starting at the surface, with the depth of the cut depending on the range, exposure time, and power of the beam. A unicorn's attack can't be parried: if you put a solid steel rod in the way the rod will shield whatever's directly behind it but will not interrupt the path of the sweep. Two unicorns' beams would also pass straight through each other: they cannot "fence" with them. Also the beam is only pulsed on for a few tenths of a second at a time.

Anyway, gory details of a unicorn attack: in a typical "sweeping" motion there will be a wound channel running in an approximately straight line all the way across the victim's body. At close range and full power there will usually be a cavity a few centimeters deep where the tissue is gone: this is surrounded by a layer of charred tissue, then burned.

On the surface of the skin surrounding the wound channel, a much wider area will suffer burns from the thermal radiation of the plasma hitting you, and victims usually suffer severe eye injury as well. This usually will not sever a human limb, but will cause so much damage to muscles, bones, and nerves that amputation would be necessary. The typical rapid head-flicking attack usually sweeps across the victim's whole torso as well: it often doesn't penetrate deep enough to go through into the pleural space or abdominal cavity, but muscles such as the abdominal, oblique, or pectoral muscles can be burned all the way through.

Strikes to the neck would nearly always be unsurvivable due to damage to the trachea, jugular veins, or carotid arteries. Someone could possibly survive being hit in the lower parts of the head, but anything eye level or above would breach the cranial cavity and turn your brain into soup.

A "ranged goring" attack occurs only in a minority of cases on historical record: in these, the unicorn keeps its aim on one location for the full duration of the attack: this will breach the chest or abdominal cavity. This causes "hamster in a microwave" types of damage: superheated steam will fill the cavity or hollow organ penetrated, and possibly explode it. Depending on the area hit this would be fatal in seconds to minutes. Unicorns don't usually hit humans like this, though: they typically do this on predators such as dragons that would otherwise have some resistance against them. Accounts from the 17th Century and earlier have described several occasions where a horse was "split nearly in half" by a threatened unicorn. However, most of these accounts describe incidents involving armored cavalry. Reliable details are scant but it is likely that the horses were also wearing some sort of protective barding which caused the unicorn to treat them like a heavily armored predator: if the unicorn struck at an angle that bypassed heavier plates and hit maille, textiles, or bare skin, it is entirely plausible that one could split a warhorse's ribcage in half.

Unicorn Fun Facts

Unicorns aren't horses. They're even-toed ungulates, and have their own family within the ruminants. Most studies place them closer to bovids, deer, and chevrotains than to giraffes or pronghorns but there's not a consensus on what their closest relatives are. So they're goat-antelope-deer things that superficially resemble horses in some ways. Most unicorn species are also a lot more lightly built than wild equines: you only think unicorns look horselike because you're comparing them to domestic horse breeds that aren't as stocky as their wild ancestors.

Unicorn horns have a keratinous sheath similar to bovids, with a permanent bone core, but the sheath is periodically shed and regrown, similar to pronghorns.

You've probably heard the factoid that unicorn horns make lousy weapons because they're too fragile to really gore something with and the angle they attach to the skull means if the animal charged something with the horn outstretched it would break its own neck. You might have also heard that they're only used for display and ritualized "wrestling" between males. Let's clear this up: a unicorn's horn is absolutely a weapon, it's just not a melee weapon. It's not attached at a good angle for goring enemies because that's not how it's used.

Unicorns have one of the largest binocular vision ranges of any ungulate, and have exceptionally sharp eyesight. They also have a third eyelid, or nictitating membrane, which can close in only a few milliseconds and is darker than a pair of welding goggles.

Have you ever seen a unicorn put its horn in a pool of water before drinking? They do this to purify it. Have you seen the discharge of blue light when it does that? That light is a little something called Cherenkov Radiation.

No, unicorns aren't radioactive. Their primary magical power is ionizing things. "Bu-bu-don't Qilins have electrical powers?" Yes. Qilins can use lightning because they build up a massive electrical charge around their horns, and then create a channel of ionized air to conduct that charge into a target. You may have noticed that most creatures that use electricity as a weapon can only produce an electric shock, not something that's a fucking arc flash hazard.

Anyway, true unicorns are more dangerous. The magical field generated by the horn rips molecules apart and acts like a particle accelerator, flinging the electrons out at up to 90% of the speed of light. As scary as this sounds it's not the really dangerous part. The really dangerous part is that they can project a beam of unbelievably hot plasma several tens of meters in front of the horn. This can bore into a target but more commonly the unicorn rapidly sweeps its head from side to side. Anything solid in the path of the beam is subject to very rapid thermal ablation. The beam's actually pretty thin, but it puts out so much light that it washes out camera sensors. This light looks blue-white to human eyes but it's mostly ultraviolet, as well as a lot of X-rays which are mostly generated by the high-energy particles hitting stuff.

This attack does not just inflict burns: it gouges a trail of charred and/or vaporized material surrounded by severe burns. Depending on the range, the amount of power, and the speed the beam travels across the target it can cut several centimeters into living tissue. This is just the depth where the tissue is gone or reduced to charcoal: the burns extend deeper than that. It is also entirely possible for the attack to penetrate a body cavity and vaporize the fluid inside into a blast of superheated steam that severely burns the entire surface of that cavity, or in severe cases produce enough pressure to disrupt the victim. There are records of unicorns hitting a horse at point blank range and literally blowing half its torso apart.

The third eyelid exists to protect the unicorn's eyes from the blinding flash its powers produce. The horn's keratin sheath is shed and regrown because it functions as an ablative. The European Straight-Horned Unicorn sheds its horn sheath approximately every month. Newly grown sheaths are silvery white, but if a unicorn has had to use its powers the surface of the horn will be charred and blackened.

Yes, unicorns can purify water... by irradiating it. This kills pathogens very effectively, but be careful: it doesn't get rid of chemical contaminants. It also doesn't purify a whole lake, just the immediate area the unicorn is about to drink from. This is why unicorns often prefer to drink from still water: in running water the current will carry away the water they just cleaned.

Unicorns also really do have very potent healing magic. One thing it's extremely good at is curing cancers. This is a secondary adaptation to keep unicorns from killing themselves with their own magic.

Anyway yeah, male unicorns fence with their horns because their magic is too devastating to use in competition for mates.

Unicorns are actually pretty chill for mid-sized herbivores, especially in groups, not despite but because of their magic. Usually herbivores are on a hair trigger of running for their lives or murdering anything that might be a predator. Unicorns' docility is born of the confidence of a creature that extolls death with the blinding light of a dying star, and can also bail its friends out with its healing powers. Even dragons don't mess with them unless they're really desperate.

While unicorns are a rare and protected species now, hunting and habitat loss didn't start to noticeably deplete their numbers until the 18th and early 19th centuries, at least in Europe. Why? Because humans didn't have weapons that could hit from beyond a unicorn's effective range with enough power and accuracy to reliably instantly kill one until the rifle. Hunting unicorns with horses, spears, and packs of dogs is an activity that's pretty much guaranteed to kill several people even if you corner and exhaust a lone individual. Even in modern times they're notorious for killing would-be poachers.

There are a few unicorns in captivity at dedicated research-based sanctuaries, but the more powerful species are never seen in zoos. The reason is that they can very easily kill, maim, or blind you from the other side of a fence, the only way of making a unicorn enclosure truly "safe" would be a ridiculously wide buffer zone around the enclosure that would take up a huge amount of space. Only trained professionals should be going anywhere near a unicorn.

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onlyhurtforaminute · 6 years ago

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CARTHAGE-THE FIELDS OF ZAMA

Excellent modern Greek death metal

#CARTHAGE #HEAVY METAL #METAL #DEATH METAL #PUNIC WARS #2018 ALBUMS #AMPUTATED VEIN RECORDS

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metalpurgatorymedia · 3 years ago

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CEREBRAL EXTINCTION - Escape From Illusion

CEREBRAL EXTINCTION – Escape From Illusion

Italian brutal death metal based outfitters Cerebral Extinction have came back five years after their album Necro Parasite Anomaly came out and this time around we have the newest offering titled Escape From Illusion which is released through Amputated Vein Records. Their style of brutal death metal is almost similar to Severed Savior, Origin, early Decrepit Birth and Gorgasm but they also have…

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#2022 #Album Review #Amputated Vein Records #brutal death metal #Cerebral Extinction #Escape From Illusion #italy #metal

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darkmuscleapparel · 8 years ago

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@angel_8choa in our men's Dark Muscle tank. Join the dark side & become part of our #darkmuscleapparel family!

#darkmuscleapparel #death metal #amputated vein records #unique leader records #cephalotripsy #heavy metal #activewear #disgorge #metalhead #metal fitness

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faytelumos · 2 years ago

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Illusory, finale

This part is double the length of previous parts.

cw: descriptions of depression and grief closely following amputation, presence of alcohol, non-painful manipulation of muscle and bone, some feelings of abandonment

first | previous | directory

---

Brimstone could do a lot of things with her body. Changing the size and density of her bones, thickening and hardening her skin, and re-organizing her muscles were some of the first things she had learned to do. She could also sprout a coat of fur, increase the capabilities of any of her senses, and fix broken bones and cuts nearly as fast as they happened.

But all of those things involved manipulating tissues she already had. Tails, nictitating membranes, hooves, fur, all of them came from structures she already had, organs she altered the shape of. She had learned with no small effort to spawn cartilage throughout her body, wherever she needed additional structures and forms. But she'd never been able to figure out how to make a new bone.

Or how to make a new muscle.

"Brimstone?"

Her eyes focused slowly again on the table. On the plate in front of her. On the fork, held in a hand that wasn't hers. She blinked, not glancing up at Toby.

"I'm done eating," she mumbled. "I'd like to go back to bed."

Toby shifted beside her, then set the fork down on her plate. He crouched down next to the wheelchair, looking up at Brimstone. She pressed what remained of her left arm tighter to her side, aching to rub fingertips together.

"You're not eating enough," Toby said softly. "Your brain needs food just as much as your body does. Just a couple more bites?"

Brimstone didn't look up. She traced the limp hem of her right sleeve with her eyes.

"I'm not hungry."

Toby sighed softly. He was patient, and he usually relented if she asked for something twice. Though he was starting to plant his feet on certain issues. It had been three weeks since Brimstone had woken up. She wasn't as surprised about it anymore. About surviving an embrace with Morning Frost at his lowest recorded temperature. It had been three weeks, and she was losing weight. Her doctor was probably going to snap someone's collar at the next appointment. Hopefully not Toby's. He didn't do anything wrong.

"How about this," Toby said, folding his arms on her right armrest and looking up at her. "We can stop, I'll put this away, and we can sit on the couch until Sam gets home?" Brimstone didn't look up. She shrugged her left shoulder. "Great," he whispered with a smile, standing, giving her right thigh a soft pat.

He got up and moved behind her, pulling the brakes on her wheels as she shifted her bad leg. He wheeled her gently to the couch, then set the brakes again. She held her left arm tight to her side as he dropped that armrest. He bent down, getting a hand under her knees and an arm around her back, and he hefted her more-or-less gracefully onto the couch.

"How am I going to stay in shape if you're so light," he joked. She shrugged her left shoulder as he grabbed one of the pillows.

"We could buy you some weights," she said. He chuckled softly, tucking the pillow between her right side and the arm of the couch.

"For that matter, I could use my gym membership." Brimstone huffed. He smiled at her, grabbing the remote. "What do we want to watch?"

---

Brimstone knew her body. She had to. For her, shapeshifting was architecture. She knew every bone, every muscle, every ligament, nerve cluster, vein, artery, fat deposit, lymph node, and organ she had to work with and around. When she had woken up, she had known before she could even form coherent thought that her body was wrong. It wasn't just the pieces missing. It was the pieces misplaced. The pieces added. The muscles of her left arm and right shin, aborted, grafted to the face of the bone. Pressed and turned in ways they weren't supposed to be, in ways she'd never asked them to be. The stitches in three areas, itching and pulling and aching. She'd ejected them almost immediately upon waking up, apparently to her doctor's horror. She didn't remember it well. Sam had looked nauseous when it was brought up.

"Almost there."

Brimstone looked again to her arm. Building cartilage was normal. Her and Naomi had decided to use it instead of trying to learn how to make new bones. One less tissue to master.

Brimstone focused again on building down to her right elbow. She'd drawn what remained of the humerus down into its original shape, and she'd stretched the muscles that were still present down to where they were meant to be. But it wasn't right. She struggled to resolve the muscles back into ligaments, and entire structures of her tricep were so cut back she couldn't draw any muscle tissue from them. Couldn't pull them down with the rest. And she'd lost her brachioradialis muscle by a wide margin, leaving another gap in the structures.

"May I?" Naomi uttered, reaching slightly. Brimstone lifted her arm, and Naomi held it, her fingers warm. "I'm going to trace over the missing muscles," she announced, examining Brimstone's arm. "Concentrate on how it's supposed to feel."

Brimstone nodded, looking away and letting her eyes unfocus as Naomi turned her arm gently. She touched a finger to Brimstone's under arm with a steady pressure, right where she was missing a muscle. Brimstone shivered in disgust at the sensation, at the layers of muscle flexing over something missing, at the unfamiliar way her bone was touched. Naomi drew her finger down, over the path of the muscle, and it made Brimstone's teeth feel slick and dirty.

"Stop," she breathed, and Naomi pulled away instantly. Brimstone tried to put a hand on her face, then looked back down at her left arm. She shut her eyes again, biting back the frustrated noises in her throat.

---

Brimstone had spent a lot of time with her body. Not just inhabiting it, but experimenting with it. Villains in the lab didn't get toys, and so she'd played with her body — small things and internal things that guards couldn't see from the hallway. She'd learned she could move her organs around, perhaps to keep people from accurately targeting her heart. She'd learned she could protrude certain body parts out through her skin to take a look at them, to see if her anatomy books were truly accurate on colors and shapes. But when Sister Karla had introduced the concept of making new structures, when she had demanded day after day that Brimstone learn to make rigid spikes on her back and shoulders, Brimstone had spent her normal play time trying to figure out how to make new cartilage.

Brimstone was spending most of her idle time trying to remember how she'd done it originally. Now, it was simple. Thoughtless. Just like forgetting the how of walking, her body just did what she wanted, spawning pockets and shapes of the stuff at a thought. But how had that happened the first time? How had she figured it out?

"Holy shit!" Vacuum blurted. Sam paused the movie, and she, Brimstone, and Toby all looked at Vacuum as he sat on the couch, staring at the TV. He looked to Brimstone, eyes wide. "What about tentacles?"

Tentacles? What about tentacles? Were they watching an octopus movie? Brimstone had already forgotten—

"Like, instead of hands?" Toby asked.

"Yeah," Vacuum said excitedly, putting his beer down on the coffee table and turning to face Brimstone. "Like, tentacles are just muscle, right?" Brimstone blinked.

"I don't know," she admitted. She'd never studied fish or other sea creatures. Any experience with the water had a focus on above-ground work, so she'd never seen the point.

Vacuum started digging his phone out of his pocket then. Sam rubbed Brimstone's side softly where she was holding her, and Brimstone leaned into her. All eyes were on Vacuum as he searched up something on his phone, then climbed off of the couch and crouched in front of Brimstone.

"What do you need?" he muttered.

"Just look at images," Brimstone replied.

He scrolled slowly through the image results for her, but they weren't very helpful. Most of them didn't even cut into the internal structures of the tentacles. She had him change the wording of the search, and then he scrolled slowly through more pictures.

"Wait, that one," Brimstone said, pointing with her wrist. She was keeping both arms drawn to the next joint, and it was easy to make a smaller tip to gesture to the exact picture she wanted. He tapped on it and then held the phone up for her to study. The diagram was overly simple, but it at least broke down the organization of the internal structures.

Brimstone held out her right arm, letting her eyes unfocus as she concentrated on her anatomy. She hollowed the end of the bone and pulled most of her nerves through it, making a central bundle as she moved her muscles around. She attached a muscle to the nerves, then adjusted it to surround the bundle and faced the fibers outwards in four main points. Then she slid four other muscles in between those points with the fibers going up and down her limb. Finally, she wrapped more muscles around the outside in a symmetrical sort of half-spiral. Once the shape was set, the nerves were branched effectively, and she had blood and lymph nodes distributed, she decreased the width of it to better match her arm.

"Wow," Toby whispered.

Brimstone looked down at it. It was weird — she had to fight the urge to put a bone in it, and it felt heavy and clumsy, not to mention the fact that it was just skin with no other textures or structures on the outside. She had no idea how suction cups worked, but imagining it, she decided she didn't want any. She tried to move it, but several muscles all moved against each other clumsily. She focused again, feeling the muscles and their orientations, considering how to flex them.

After a moment of thought, she curled it in one direction. Vacuum laughed in delight, putting his phone away and watching intently as Toby stood up, coming over from the chair to watch. Brimstone curled it the other way, getting a feel for its motions.

"That's so cool," Vacuum whispered.

"Can you grab anything with it?" Toby mused.

Brimstone reached over to her other arm and meticulously wrapped the tentacle around it. She was quickly getting a better feel for how it worked, and she reached over Sam's lap and grabbed the remote. It was awkward, but she was able to pick it up and lift it off of the couch. Vacuum laughed again, poking it. It felt weird. Brimstone dropped the remote and poked his arm back.

"This is awesome!" he cried, carefully grabbing it. Brimstone let him play with it, and Toby leaned forward, watching closely. But Sam had yet to say anything.

Brimstone glanced up, nervous she was grossing her out. Sam had a hand over her mouth, and her cheeks were darkly blushed. It took a moment to realize her breathing was a bit faster, and she seemed slightly warmer.

Brimstone looked down again as the boys turned and inspected her shiny new limb. Sam would probably be more eager to engage with it without an audience.

---

Brimstone hadn't truly considered changing the resting shape of her figure before. Everyone's eyes were often drawn to her horns, her ears, her eyes. The things she couldn't change. It had never seemed worth it to try to adjust the shape of her body, especially since she would have to find that altered state again after changing her shape for work. But she probably wasn't going back to work. Soon or ever.

She looked down at herself as Sam washed her shoulder, the warm water trickling off of her and back into the suds. The tub was fairly wide, so Sam always got in with her, wearing her bathing suit. As if there was a dress code to giving Brimstone a bath.

"What are you thinking about?" Sam uttered, wetting the cloth again. Brimstone glanced up, catching sight of the skeleton hand print laid over Sam's breasts. Brimstone flicked some of the suds lazily.

"Wondering if I want to give myself bigger boobs," she answered. She snuck a look at Sam's face. She had an eyebrow raised, and the slightest hint of a smile.

"What brought this on?" Sam asked softly, cleaning her arm. Brimstone shrugged. She picked up some suds and put them on Sam's belly.

"It would be pretty easy to do," she said. She picked up some more suds, but Sam was getting farther down her arm, so she didn't want to move as much. "I didn't know if you'd like it." Sam wetted the cloth.

"I don't need you to get plastic surgery for me." Brimstone raised an eyebrow.

"I could change it later," she uttered. Sam held her arm softly and cleaned her elbow.

"If you want big boobs for yourself, that would be fine." She wiped down Brimstone's arm. "But I think you're hot no matter how big your tits are." Brimstone looked down at herself again. Sam put a hand under her chin and lifted her head gently. Brimstone looked into her eyes, and Sam looked back. She was close, and she was soft, and she was always here. Brimstone hadn't wanted to ask her to move in, but thankfully, Sam was already spending more time at the house than she was at her apartment. "Brim?" Sam whispered. Brimstone hummed. "I'm not leaving, okay?"

Brimstone's eyes stung, and there was a lump in her throat. She nodded, looking over Sam's face. Sam gave her a soft smile, full of kindness. She moved closer, putting a gentle hand on Brimstone's bad leg, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Brimstone closed her eyes, cautiously resting her wrist on Sam's side. She couldn't hold onto the tears, and they fell down her face at the same time she whimpered. Sam set the cloth down, moving forward until her body was flush with Brimstone's, and wrapped her tightly in a hug. Brimstone rested her head against Sam's chest, crying quietly, hugging her as best she could.

Morning Frost hadn't come back. He hadn't been there when she'd woken up in the hospital. He hadn't been there when she'd been released and found everything she owned moved to a new home.

He'd fled from the scene, people were saying. They'd broken off her arms to get him away from her before she froze to death, and he'd disappeared into the sky. A black streak into the night.

And no one had seen him since.

She didn't understand. She didn't want to understand. Morning Frost was supposed to be good now. He was supposed to help people, keep them safe, be a hero.

You people are evil!

She didn't want it to make sense. Because she should have known.

And she should have stopped him sooner.

---

"You're being way too gentle with that," Starburst laughed. Toby chuckled, gingerly unwrapping the pink and orange paper anyway, as if ripping it would hurt the little cartoon Starburst faces printed on it.

"C'mon, shred it!" Sam cried, impatient to see what could be in such a "head-shaped" box.

"Rip, rip, rip," Phil started, and Vacuum and Sam joined in almost instantly, and then all four of Brimstone's coworkers from various jobs were chanting around them. Brimstone smiled politely, sinking slightly lower into her chair. Toby gave up and yanked the paper off to reveal a plain, cardboard box beneath. Sam scoffed indignantly, and Starburst laughed mischievously.

"Okay," Toby said, pulling out his keys, "new rule: Starburst can't package her own gifts." Everyone except Starburst and Brimstone laughed.

"I didn't, they came in that box," she defended. Toby nodded along placatingly as he slashed the tape with his keys. He popped the flaps open and showed the contents to Brimstone.

Metal headbands, all with various attachments of flowers, spikes, butterflies, and ribbons were lined up neatly within. Brimstone leaned forward and Sam oo'ed quietly, doing the same.

"There's also some cuffs in there, for your horns," Starburst said with a soft smile in her voice. Sam gingerly pulled out a gold-colored headband with yellow butterflies and black flowers on it. Brimstone watched, admiring the patterns on the wings and their accuracy. They were brimstone butterflies. "You don't have to wear the cuffs if they're uncomfortable," Starburst went on.

"I love them," Brimstone said softly, looking into the box. The cuffs might be difficult to wear, given her aversion to people touching her horns. She couldn't exactly put them on herself. But maybe Sam would be able to help. "Thank you," Brimstone said, looking up to Starburst. She beamed, glowing slightly.

"Yeah."

"You wanna wear this one?" Sam asked softly. Brimstone looked up, then nodded before looking forward again. The headbands were angled oddly, but as Sam organized Brimstone's hair and slipped the headband down over her head, she realized it was actually to get around her horns. They must have all been custom pieces. Brimstone's chest ached.

"Okay, mine next," Vacuum said, nudging the five-foot-long gift that had been dominating the table since he arrived.

"For the last time!" Sam laughed. "Stop asking!"

"Just open it so we can move it!" Vacuum cried.

"Brimmy does not want your super-sized dildo!" Sam replied. Vacuum covered the blush on his face and laughed into his hands. Phil held his sides and laughed and Toby covered his mouth and looked away. Brimstone leaned back just a little.

"Jesus," Starburst huffed, shaking her head. Brimstone's eyes flicked to the only other remaining "gift", an envelope with "from Karla" written in a soft, slanting style. Her throat tightened just a little at the thought of what could be inside. She looked back to Vacuum's huge package.

"Let's open it," Brimstone uttered.

Sam and Toby both got it to sit on the table in front of Brimstone, because the middle was apparently soft and Sam ripped the paper a little when she tried to move it alone. Once it was in front of Brimstone, she leaned forward, and Sam helped her tear apart the yellow and black wrapping paper with her silhouette on it. As soon as they exposed enough of the middle to see it had part of an almost entirely naked woman printed on its soft surface, Sam started ripping faster.

"What the fuck is this?" she mumbled, and then there was enough paper ripped away to see that it was a body pillow with an anime-style rendering of Sam in a Brimstone bikini on it. "What the fuck is this!" Sam cried, yanking off the last of the paper and the cardboard ends.

"Woah," Toby chuckled, looking away as Phil laughed harder now than he had all afternoon. Starburst slapped Vacuum's shoulder as Phil bent forward, and the self-satisfied grin on Vacuum's face could have lit the room on its own.

"Body pillows are super handy!" he declared, getting another smack and not flinching.

"Why am I on it?!" Sam demanded. Brimstone tried to subdue the smile on her face at Sam's reaction. Sam was blushing and smothering a grin as she held up the double-sided pillow accusingly, making it clearly visible to everyone.

"I couldn't think of anyone else!"

"Why is anyone on it?!"

"It's a body pillow, someone has to be on it!"

Brimstone cast a glance over at Toby. He was smiling at her, and he gave her a questioning brow and a subtle thumbs up. She nodded softly. It was loud and chaotic in the room, but she was managing. She'd spent a lot of time with these people. They were familiar. They were safe.

"Okay, alright," Phil said, motioning for everyone to settle down even as he wiped a tear from his eye, "how about some cake?" Brimstone nodded, sitting up a little straighter in her chair, glad for the distraction from the last unopened item on the table.

"I'll clear the table," Toby declared as Starburst squeaked and flitted into the kitchen ahead of Phil. Vacuum helped move the gifts and scrapped wrapping paper aside as Sam set the body pillow in a nearby chair like it was another party guest. Brimstone blushed to have it on display so plainly, and Sam gave her an amused smile.

"She looks nothing like me," Sam joked, turning to the thing. She looked back to Brimstone and imitated the pose and expression of her pillow self. Brimstone blushed harder and buried her face in the crook of her arm as Vacuum laughed delightedly. It looked exactly like her.

---

Brimstone hugged her new pillow a little tighter to her chest, adjusting her right leg on it. It was nice to have the buffer between her legs. She didn't like the feeling she got when she accidentally brushed her right ankle against something. For some reason, it was harder to get used to than her arms. Maybe because she wasn't constantly using it.

Sam came in, letting out a long sigh as she pulled off her shirt for the night, closing the bedroom door behind her with a foot. Brimstone tucked herself slightly further into the blankets. Sam smiled at her, then smirked at the pillow peaking out from under the blanket.

"Did you have a good day?" she asked, flicking off the light. Brimstone watched her slip her pants off in the dark.

"Yeah," Brimstone replied. It had been nicer than she expected to have everyone over. And even though having her normie coworkers and her super coworkers in the same place had been strange at first, seeing everyone having fun together was… really nice.

Sam came around the bottom of the bed, then climbed on and laid down behind Brimstone. She moved and fidgeted as she got under the blankets, and then she hugged up against Brimstone's back. She was so warm through Brimstone's shirt, and she wrapped her arms carefully around Brimstone's waist, tucking her legs in along the back of Brimstone's. She let out a warm sigh, relaxing, as something in Brimstone's chest seemed to unwind.

They really hadn't been dating for very long. About a month and a half, now. For more than half of that time, Brimstone had been injured. Disabled. Missing pieces.

She bit down on the lump in her throat. Sam had spent the night eight times before the accident. They had been seeing each other for over a year, but Brimstone had only gotten to sleep with Sam beside her eight times before…. And Brimstone had realized that she really liked it. She badly wanted it. The first night she'd spent with Sam, they were touching all night. And it had been so nice. And even nicer had been being the "big spoon" of them. It made Brimstone feel… important. Needed.

But now, she couldn't bear the thought of holding Sam.

It was stupid of her to have waited so long. She should have known she liked Sam sooner. She should have realized sooner that she didn't want to be away from Sam. But she'd barely gotten any time with her.

But Sam said she wouldn't leave….

"What's wrong?" Sam whispered. Brimstone sniffed, cleared her throat, then hid her face in her new pillow.

"I'm sorry," Brimstone croaked. Sam hugged her closer, hushing her softly, reaching up and running her fingers through Brimstone's hair.

"Hey, you didn't do anything," Sam whispered.

"That's the problem," Brimstone breathed. Sam didn't seem to hear her, and she sniffed and lifted her head carefully, mindful of her horns. "We should have been together sooner," Brimstone said, her voice watery. "I wasted so much time…."

"Hey," Sam whispered, shifting to sit up on her elbow. Brimstone looked behind her, and Sam pet her damp cheek in the dark. "I love you, baby," she started, and it made Brimstone's heart stutter, "but you gotta remember your brain is really fucked up," she finished. Her tone was kind, and she found Brimstone's ear in the dark and pet it softly. "You were coping. You didn't pull me in because you didn't pull anyone in. That's not a crime, and I'm not mad, okay?"

Brimstone sniffed, tears running faster down her face and into her hair. She nodded, her breaths choppy and loud, and wiped the left side of her face. Sam carefully wiped the tears on her right.

"It's unfortunate," Sam admitted. "But you know what? I'm so happy you brought me in at all." Brimstone sniffed again, and Sam leaned over her, sitting up slightly on her hip and smiling down. "Better late than never, okay?" Brimstone nodded, wiping tears again.

"Okay," she managed. Sam leaned in, planting a kiss on her forehead. Brimstone closed her eyes, and Sam planted another kiss on the teary corner of her eye. And then on her cheek.

"You're okay," Sam whispered, resting some of her weight on Brimstone, her breath brushing her lips. "Okay?" Brimstone sniffed, then nodded.

"Okay."

#Fayte writes #hero x civilian #writeblr #writing #amputee #oc: Brimstone #I wasn't expecting this #but we can pretend I had it planned all along #I've never experienced this first-hand #so I hope I did it justice #thanks so much for reading #this isn't the end of Brimstone's story #but it is the final chapter for Illusory #I really like this story #and I may do something more with it eventually #(I may make a sequal. but at this point. I'm not sure)

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voidindite · 3 years ago

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Hermit Hybrid HCs:

Wither Impulse

I saw a take of Wither!Impulse, which reminded me that wither roses are his favorite flower in the game, if I'm not mistaken. sooo... gonna write some stuff out, and hopefully I'll have the energy to draw something up for him this weekend since I have off work!

Italicized points will be containing (mild) body horror

-he's got a tail held together solely by magic. it's skeletal, sections of spine floating in thin air, and yet moving in perfect sync with each other as if they were part of a normal tail with skin and muscle and tendons connecting it. it uses body language similar to a cat's. he can feel it if anything brushes against it, pain included; the sections also can't be pulled apart and trying to do so is likely to result in a startled clawing. separating the sections would be like amputating a flesh and bone tail

-his wings shift between being leathery and batlike, to just straight up bones that, likes his tail, are held together with magic, depending on the day, his energy, and which he's in the mood for. he usually prefers the leathery ones, but the bones take less energy, suggesting their batlike form are just glamour. they're massive, but tattered and bent out of shape as if they'd been broken and hadn't healed correctly. he should in no feasible way be able to fly with them, even when they're in their batlike state, yet when he flaps them or angles them to glide, they work perfectly

-due to his wings' size, he has to be careful not to clip anything while flying

-as with any of the other flight-capable Hermits, his flight is disabled in the code until he earns an elytra in the End, or gets one from another player. Impulse plays by the personal rule that if he loses his elytra, he can't fly again until he gets another pair, and keeps his in his inventory. upon request, X has made adjustments to Impulse's Server-coding to match that rule

-two horns protrude from his forehead. they're normally short nubs, but story magic can change their size and length depending on the Season. currently, Season 9 holds the record for biggest horns. they curl back and around his head like a ram's; strong and sturdy, as a dwarf should be!

-he can shoot wither skulls; they take a moment to form in his hand, causing a horrible crying sound to echo around him while they do, and then cause a pretty destructive explosion to whatever he throws them at. he can, and has, accidentally killed other Hermits (cough cough creeper-disguised Scar) with them, and felt so bad about it that he gave them the wither rose resulting from their skull-induced death. he also replaces any and all items or building blocks that were destroyed in the explosion

-he's unaffected by wither damage. a wither skeleton's sword, or explosions from withers' skulls, hurt him, sure, but the withering itself doesn't. the same goes for his own wither skulls, with only the explosions causing damage to those entities

-[warning, mild body horror] at the middle knuckle of each finger, they gradually turn to bone that taper off into a sharp claw. they look fragile, but are in the same state as his wings and tail, and magic holds the last joints together with no tendons to do so. the bones of his hands also protrude jaggedly from each knuckle, and the skin around the bones is grayed with dark, corrupted-looking veins branching from them that race partway up his wrists

-he's more heat-resistant than most players, and is one of the few people who can touch Tango's crown of blaze rods (at their normal temperature, at least) without burning himself. he's still not fire or lava-resistant, however, and if Tango is angry or scared enough, his hair and tail plume can burn him. he'll also get pretty nasty blisters if he tries to touch the blaze rods while they're white-hot

-his teeth are shaped similarly to a dog's, with his canines being fairly blunt for fangs. they don't make his grin any less friendly, and he smiles a lot

-[mild body horror] his ribs protrude from under his skin. they're angled more sharply than is usual for players and, like his hands, the skin around them is grayed and branching with dark veins. he keeps them covered, as touching them cuts skin and automatically applies wither to other players. any sort of buffer between the ribs and another player, like a shirt, negates the effect

-if he starts using a lot of his wither magic, the smell of soul sand will cling to the air around him, and skin becomes almost sickly looking as it becomes ashen and almost gray. The dark veins will start branching around his eyes and up his neck, and the ones on his wrists will reach farther up his arms when this happens

-his eyes are normally a soft yellow or gold, depending on the lighting. but when using his magic, the sockets appear sunken, and eyes become so dark it almost looks like the sockets are empty

-wither or demon, he doesn't really care which one he's called.

-has pointy ears. they're fairly human-sized, just end in points rather than being rounded off. they have old piercing scars

-technically classified as undead. can't drown, but...can suffocate?? X still doesn't get how that works for a player

-related to the above, he doesn't need to, but does prefer to breathe. claims that not doing so leaves a tight, uncomfortable feeling in his chest that may be due to the fact he's a hybrid and not full wither

#hermitcraft #impulsesv #hermitcraft headcanons #wither impulse #tales from the void

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annecoulmanross · 4 years ago

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Top Ten Historical Figures Done Dirty by The Terror (2018)

So, we all know and love Dave Kajganich and Soo Hugh’s beautiful show, right? Of course. But it’s important to set the historical record straight, especially when there are real people’s life-stories and legacies on the line.

(NOTE: this list is biased heavily toward upper-class individuals because the historical record does a better job preserving those voices for us. Was the real Cornelius Hickey as nasty a person in real life as he was in the show? Almost certainly not – which is why we’re given “E.C.” as a nod to the fact that we shouldn’t assume these characters represent real historical villains, even when the narrative makes them antagonists; HOWEVER, not everyone in the show was given the same courtesy as the OG “Cornelius Hickey.” Which is why this post exists �� to show you the best sides of some people you might not otherwise appreciate for their full humanity. That being said, keep in mind the sources used – and, for instance, who has surviving portraits and who doesn’t.)

Thus, below the cut, I give you this list, (mostly) in order from #10 (honorable mention, only somewhat slandered) to #1 (most hideously maligned) – my list of characters from The Terror who deserved better.

(Please don’t take this too seriously – I know there are reasons why choices had to be made in order to make this show work on television, and I do very much love the end product. But I also genuinely think it’s a good idea to remember the real people behind these characters, and think critically about how we depict them ourselves.)

Bottom Tier – The Overlooked Men of the Franklin Expedition

#10. Richard Wall – & – John Diggle

We’re combining these two because they had a lot in common, historically speaking! Both were polar veterans, having served as a Cook (Wall) and an AB-then-Quartermaster (Diggle) on HMS Erebus under the command of Sir James Clark Ross in the Antarctic expedition of 1839-1843. Certainly we do get some good scenes with them in the show, but there was plenty more to explore there – for instance, Captain Ross was apparently so taken with Richard Wall that he hired him on as a private cook after the Antarctic expedition. (One imagines that Sir James may have regretted letting his friends of the Franklin expedition steal Wall out from under him.)

(If you want some more information on Diggle, the brilliant @handfuloftime found this excellent article on him – fun facts include the detail that Diggle’s only daughter bore the name Mary Ann Erebus Diggle.)

#9. John Smart Peddie

Now, I don’t think we should go as far as the Doctor Who Audio Drama adaptation of the Franklin Expedition, which makes Peddie into Francis Crozier’s oldest friend, someone “almost like a brother” to Crozier (no evidence of ANY prior relationship between the two existed, contrary to whatever the Doctor Who Audio Dramas would have you believe!) but Peddie probably earned his place as chief surgeon, however fond we may all be of the beautiful Alex “Macca” MacDonald, who was, in fact, the Assistant Surgeon, historically speaking. It’s hard to find information about Peddie, but someone should go looking! I want to know about this man!

(If you want to know more about the historical Alexander MacDonald, there’s a short biographical article on him from Arctic that you can read here.)

#8 James Walter Fairholme

The only one of the expedition’s lieutenants who doesn’t really get any characterization in the show, which is a travesty! The historical Fairholme (pronounced “Fairem”) was, as they say, a himbo, and the letters that he wrote home to his father are positively precious. He loved the expedition pets (lots of kisses for Neptune!), and he needed two kayaks because he couldn’t fit into just one with his beefy thighs. Fitzjames loaned him a coat when all the Erebus officers had their portraits taken, and then called him a “smart, agreeable companion, and a well informed man,” and Goodsir singled Fairholme out as “very much interested” in the work of naturalist observations. Just a lovely young man who could have gotten some screen time, you know?

(Also, as @transblanky discovered, four separate members of the Fairholme family gave money to Thomas Blanky’s widow when she was struggling financially in the 1850s, making them, combined, the most generous contributor to her subscription.)

Middle Tier – Franklin’s Men Who Didn’t Deserve That

#7. William Gibson

Alright, I want to talk about how uniquely horrible the show’s William Gibson is: this is a character willing to lie and accuse his partner of sexual assault that didn’t happen. I get there were extenuating circumstances, but if I were a historical figure who died in some famous disaster and someone depicted me doing something like that? Let’s just say I’m deeply offended on the real Gibson’s behalf.

What do we know about the historical William Gibson? Not much – but we know a little. Gibson’s younger brother served on an overland exploratory venture across Australia in the 1870s… from which he never returned. (God, the Gibson family had the worst luck?) This description of a conversation that young Alf Gibson had with expedition leader Ernest Giles only days before his death is VERY eerie:

[Gibson] said, “Oh! I had a brother who died with Franklin at the North Pole, and my father had a deal of trouble to get his pay from government.” He seemed in a very jocular vein this morning, which was not often the case, for he was usually rather sulky, sometimes for days together, and he said, “How is it, that in all these exploring expeditions a lot of people go and die?”

I said, “I don't know, Gibson, how it is, but there are many dangers in exploring, besides accidents and attacks from the natives, that may at any time cause the death of some of the people engaged in it; but I believe want of judgment, or knowledge, or courage in individuals, often brought about their deaths. Death, however, is a thing that must occur to every one sooner or later.”

To this he replied, “Well, I shouldn't like to die in this part of the country, anyhow.” In this sentiment I quite agreed with him, and the subject dropped.

(From Giles’s Australia Twice Traversed which you can read here)

Beyond that, one thing we do know is that William Gibson was probably friends with Henry Peglar – they had served on ships together before, and Gibson may possibly have been the poor fellow found cradling the Peglar Papers, according to researcher Glenn Stein. So we might imagine the historical Gibson as a much kinder man than the show’s depiction of him – this was someone who befriended the clever, playful Peglar we all know and love from the transcriptions of his papers, so full of poetry and linguistic jokes. It’s a shame we didn’t get a chance to meet this real Gibson, who actually knew the Henry Peglar whom we love so well.

#6. Stephen Stanley

Look. There’s that one famous line in James Fitzjames’s letters to the Coninghams about how Stanley went about with his “shirt sleeves tucked up, giving one unpleasant ideas that he would not mind cutting one’s leg off immediately – ‘if not sooner.’” And certainly Harry Goodsir had some mixed opinions of the man, saying was “a would be great man who as I first supposed would not make any effort at work after a time,” and that he “knows nothing whatever about subject & is ignorant enough of all other subjects,” whatever…. that means….

But Fitzjames also had some rather nicer things to say about him, that he was “thoroughly good natured and obliging and very attentive to our mess.” Also, the amputation comment? Very likely had a quite positive underlying joke to it – Stanley may not have been much of a naturalist, but he was actually an accomplished anatomist, who won a prize for dissection in 1836, on account of his “bend of the elbow,” which was “a picture of dissection,” according to Henry Lonsdale, who also called Stanley his “facetious friend” and “a fine fellow” (Lonsdale 1870, pg. 159). So, the real Stanley probably was rather droll, but the perpetually cruel Stanley of the show misses some of the real man’s major historical virtues and replaces them with historically unlikely mass-mercy-murder.

#5. John Irving

Now we’re getting into the territory of characters who did get some good development, but are missing a bit of historical nuance. As I’m sure many of you know, the historical Irving was indeed very religious, but the flashes of anger (i.e. against Manson) we see from Irving in the show don’t seem terribly consistent with the Irving depicted in this memorial volume, where John seems more like a quiet, bookish, mathematically inclined young man, with a self-deprecating sense of humor and a gentle sweetness. It’s really not at all far off from the version of Irving we see with Kooveyook in the show – I just wish we could have seen more of that side of Irving.

Top Tier – The Triumvirate of Polar Friends

So, these three DO have many good things to recommend them in the show, but because I’ve done such deep research on them, it can be quite jarring to watch certain scenes in which they behave contrary to their historical personalities, and I find myself pausing when watching the show with friends or family to explain that NO, they wouldn’t do that!

#4. Sir James Clark Ross

First thing – we LOVE Richard Sutton. He did a beautiful job with the material given to him. (This is true of all the actors on the list, frankly, but it’s doubly true here.) But that scene at the Admiralty where Sir James tells Lady Franklin “I have many friends on those ships, as you know,” to shut down her argument for search missions? At that time (aka 1847), historically, Sir James Clark Ross was actively campaigning for search missions, planning routes and volunteering his services in command of any vessel the Admiralty even vaguely contemplated sending out. You could see this real-life desperation in Sir James’s morose attention to his whiskey glass in that scene if you’re really trying, but I think the more historically responsible thing would have been to make vividly clear that James Ross risked life and limb, as soon as he possibly could, to try to rescue Franklin and Crozier and Blanky, men he’d known and cared about and bitterly missed – and, in the case of Crozier, “truly loved.”

#3. Sir John Franklin

The historical Franklin had plenty of flaws – his contributions to British colonial rule certainly harmed no small number of people, and we should question the way that heroic statues of Franklin are some of the only memorials that serve to honor the lives lost on Franklin’s expeditions – especially considering the steep body count of not only Franklin’s final voyage, but his previous missions in Arctic regions as well. (DM me and I’ll scream at you about counter-monuments! Is this a promise or a threat? Who knows!) With that said, most contemporary accounts agree that Sir John Franklin treated his friends, his family, and those within his social orbit with kindness, and his cruelties were systemic, not personal. In this light, the image of Sir John viciously tearing into Francis Crozier’s vulnerabilities in the show feels very off. Though there was certainly some friction over Crozier’s two proposals to Sophia Cracroft, historically speaking, there’s no evidence at all that Sir John discouraged her from marrying Francis – Sophia may have had many reasons of her own (*clears throat meaningfully in a lesbian sort of way*) for not accepting any of the several marriage proposals offered to her (from Crozier as well as from others), and we ought to keep in mind that she remained unmarried all her life. The notion that the real Sir John would have considered Crozier too low-born or too Irish to be part of the Franklin family isn’t grounded in historical fact.

#2. Lady Jane Franklin

Again disclaimer: the real Lady Franklin left behind a legacy with much to critique. Those who rightfully point out the racism of her treatment of the young indigenous Tasmanian girl Mathinna should be fully heard out. Observations of her own contributions to imperialism are important and valid. Though I tend to see her feud with Dr. John Rae as somewhat understandable – given that Lady Franklin didn’t have the benefit of our hindsight knowing Rae was correct – the levels of prejudice that she enabled and even encouraged in the writing of Charles Dickens when he attempted to discredit Inuit accounts of Franklin’s fate are inarguably deplorable. These things being said, everything noted for Sir John re: Sophia Cracroft goes for Lady Franklin as well – there’s no reason to imagine a scene where Jane would bully Francis Crozier within an inch of his life, seconds after a failed second proposal, when, historically, Lady Franklin felt the situation was so delicate that it required the quiet and compassionate intervention of Sir James Clark Ross, a dearly loved mutual friend to all parties. Tension does not imply aggression; conflict is not abuse. We know this can’t have been an easy experience for the historical Francis Crozier, but the picture is a lot more complicated than what can be shown in one small subplot of a ten-episode television show. Because of this complexity, however, Lady Franklin’s social deftness suffers in the show. (I could also write an entire essay about Jane Franklin’s last shot in the show, at the beginning of Episode 9: The C the C the Open C – TL;DR is that framing is very important, and, at the very last moment, the show reframes Lady Franklin as a mutilated corpse, a speaking mouth without a brain, which is….. a choice.)

And, at number 1, the person done most dirty by The Terror (2018) is….

#1. Charles Frederick “Freddy” Des Voeux

Look. I’m biased here because I am fed daily information about the historical Freddy Des Voeux from @frederickdesvoeux so I’ve become, I think understandably, a bit attached.

But this is very plainly the clearest cruelty the show does to a historical figure – the historical Des Voeux was a very young man (only around 20 when the ships set sail) known always as “Frederick or Freddy” to his family, and described by all parties as bright and sweet – Fitzjames said that he was “a most unexceptionable, clever, agreeable, light-hearted, obliging young fellow, and a great favourite of Hodgson’s, which is much in his favour besides,” and described him cheerfully helping to catch specimens for Goodsir. Des Voeux is named “dear” by Captain Osborn in Erasmus Henry Brodie’s 1866 poem on the Franklin Expedition (43) and Leo McClintock reported the young man’s well-known “intelligence, gallantry, and zeal” in his 1869 update to his account of the Franklin Expedition’s fate (xlii). None of this is consistent with Des Voeux’s behaviour in the show, especially in the later episodes.

To reduce Des Voeux to an easily-detested figure, over whose death one might cheer, is not a kindness – the creation of a narrative where his death is satisfying does damage to the memory of a real person, a barely-more-than-teenager who died in the cold of the Arctic and left behind only scraps of a shirt and a spidery signature in the bottom margin of a fragmentary document.

Television shows may need their villains, but it’s important to remember that real life isn’t like that. Surely the historical Frederick Des Voeux was most likely not a perfect person, and, as an upper class officer contributing to a British imperial project, he does bear some responsibility for the harm done by the Franklin expedition, but it’s not accurate to assume he was any less worthy of sympathy than the other officers who considered him a friend – those men whom we now venerate, like James Fitzjames. So as far as I’m concerned, Freddy Des Voeux deserves at least as much consideration, care, and compassion from us.

#franklin expedition #franklin expedition fictions #the terror #the terror amc #terrorposting #long post

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thatshithurted8 · 5 years ago

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Overboard

Summary: In which the outcome of a traumatic event the Pogues go through leaves JJ feeling numb and hopeless.

Request: Something a lil different - I was wondering if you could do an imagine where the reader is JJ’s girlfriend and one day when they were out surfing with the pogues, the reader gets bitten by a shark? Happy or sad ending you choose 😁 lmao I just watched soul surfer heheheh @spideybitey18

Trigger Warnings: Severe injury (amputation, blood loss, shark attack, etc), mention of bipolar and depression. If you get triggered easily by any of these things I highly suggest you skip this read!

Word Count: 1.9k

JJ will never forget the sound of you screaming in pain.

It all happened so fast that none of the Pogues had a chance to evaluate the situation. One moment you and JJ were dancing and kissing then the next you were swimming away from the boat after falling overboard.

The Pogues were used to your impulsive behavior and weren’t that surprised when you remained in the water. However, there was something they didn’t know, even your beloved boy friend, JJ. You were just diagnosed as bipolar.

Despite not letting your boyfriend or best friends know you have been recently diagnosed as bipolar, they were used to your behavior and actions. You were even more impulsive than JJ at times and then all of a sudden you would be swarmed by feelings of emptiness and numbness, that left you lying in bed for weeks at a time. None of the Pogues nor JJ even connected the dots and assumed that you were bipolar. After all the school system barely talked about mental health and illnesses how were they supposed to know the signs and symptoms?

You were diagnosed when your mom brought you to the doctors after you continued to add wood to a bonfire you were having with your younger brother. The fire was so big and out of control that it almost caught onto your house, but yet you continued to add wood. That was your moms last straw, she was tired of you acting so carelessly and then proceed to randomly become depressed.

Even though your parents and the rest of your family are supportive of your diagnosis you didn’t want to believe it. Being bipolar would mean people would think you were crazy and most people would see the illness before they see you as a person. With your parents wanting the best for you they pushed for you to take medicine and eventually go to therapy, but you didn’t want any of that. You liked you the way you were. So you found yourself sneaking out of your house after getting into an argument with your mom for not taking your meds. If only you knew that just a few hours later you would be fighting for your life.

Of course your friends and boyfriend were concerned and worried when you first fell over board after hitting a rough patch of water, causing the boat to rock back and forth. They were worried that you hit your head off of the side of the boat, but luckily you resurfaced quickly, letting out a carefree laugh. A laugh that JJ loved so much.

JJ had to admit at first he thought it was amusing that you were swimming away from the boat, but then he suddenly saw a fin poking through the deep water, causing him to freeze. He seemingly forgot that basically everyone in the Outer Banks was out on the water after hearing the news that around fifteen great white sharks were spotted not too far off of the shore. The only difference though was that the Pogues were the farthest out in the water, you claiming that it would be impossible to spot a shark when the waters were heavily crowded with Kooks, Pogues and Tourons alike. JJ wanting to appease you, who he loved so much decided to drive the boat further out into the water while you and your best friends danced and drank.

Seeing the shark fin put all of the Pogues in a frenzy except for you. Instead of swimming back to the boat or grabbing a hold of the life preserver that John B threw to you, you swim in the direction of the shark. The four Pogues on board screamed and watched with horrified expressions while you laugh before dipping under the water.

A few seconds go by before you resurface and when you do you let out a scream, claiming that the shark bit you. This only causes your friends to freak out even more. Kie throws in another life preserver towards you, John B scrambles to find JJ’s gun to shoot the shark, Pope screams at you to remain calm and JJ throws his hat off and gets ready to jump into the water to grab you.

However, everyone stops panicking when you start to laugh while splashing around in the water, making a big commotion. JJ remembers yelling at you for pulling something like that while Kiara simply hugs Pope so she could stop shaking.

JJ never yelled at you, but you were irritated that they didn’t find it funny. Couldn’t they tell that you were having fun? Why did they have to ruin your fun?

In the midst of you laughing, JJ telling you to get back on the boat in an authoritative tone and the rest of the Pogues calming down no one noticed where the great white went. And soon enough everyone found out.

Despite everyone being annoyed or upset with you, you continued to swim and splash around in the deep water. You felt so carefree and happy, it was euphoric. However, this all came to an end when you let out a gut wrenching shriek, making the hairs on the back of JJ’s neck stand up.

This time wasn’t a joke and you actually got bitten by the shark you weren’t afraid of just mere seconds ago. At first your best friends thought you were just playing again, but from the sound of your scream JJ knew you weren’t.

Almost instantly JJ sprung into action to save his girlfriend. Without thinking he jumped into the water. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he swam through the water and grabbed you, the water around you two becoming red. He quickly wraps his arm around your waist and uses his other hand to grab one of the life preservers all the while trying to look out for where the aquatic predator went.

John B and Pope instantaneously grab a hold of the rope connected to the life preserver to pull you guys back on board while Kie pulls up the anchor from underneath the water. The boys hearts race faster as the seconds go by, especially when they see the shark fin cut through the water once again.

Once you and JJ are beside the boat JJ lifts you up and Pope and John B grab you. However, their eyes pop out of their sockets when they see the damage to your body. The shark bit off your right hand and forearm. It was like a scene from soul surfer, minus the surfing part.

Kie comes running over after putting the anchor back inside the boat. She helps John B lay you down on the floor gently while Pope helps JJ get back on. JJ remembers his heart race increasing rapidly in that moment. He didn’t realize how bad it was.

Instantly JJ falls to his knees and goes to your side. Without communicating with each other John B runs and starts the boat, slipping on some of your blood on the way there. Pope stood frozen in one spot watching with wide eyes while JJ grabbed your other hand.

None of them expected that the day would end up like this. The sound of JJ’s voice screaming for someone to call 911 would replay in the Pogues heads over and over again like a broken record, that will haunt them forever. Desperation and worry leaked from the blondes voice as he continued to yell at his friends.

Kiara grabs your phone and calls 911. Within seconds she was on the line with a dispatcher and explaining to them what happened. JJ tried his best to remain calm while talking to you, expressing how much he loved you and how you were going to make it. Shock still washed over Pope and he started to pace while John B started to drive the boat back to shore.

However, since you wanted to go out farther into the water than everyone at the beach that day you guys were miles away from shore. It also didn’t help that the water was already crowded with boats to begin with.

Despite being so focused on you JJ somehow hears Kie yell at him to apply pressure to your wound. He does as follows and presses down where the shark bit, soaking his hands in blood. Kiara covers her ear to hear the operator properly before barking out her next orders to JJ.

He had to apply more pressure than what he was giving. Pope finally breaks out of his trance and runs over to help JJ, with that he tells the blonde to un-do his belt, which he immediately does. It wasn’t like you guys were planning on going swimming so JJ simply wore his normal cargo shorts, boots and muscle shirt.

Pope wraps the belt around your severed arm, just above the elbow as Kie tells John B to stop because they were sending a helicopter. The two boys tighten the belt, but it slips off of your arm every few seconds because of your arm being covered in your slick blood.

JJ looks down at you and moves your hair out of your face, blood transferring from his hands to your forehead. For some reason you were extremely calm it was like your body went into shock. You were aware of what happened, but you felt paralyzed.

The Maybank boy continues to whisper sweet nothings to you as Pope struggles to keep the belt wrapped tightly around your arm. Despite it feeling like decades before the helicopter got there it actually got there quite quick.

The red emergency helicopter flew above the boat and dangled a paramedic and air stretcher down. Much like the attack, you getting strapped into the stretcher before being taken up into the helicopter happened extremely fast.

Little did JJ or the Pogues know that was going to be the last time they saw you alive. As JJ told you how much he loved you one more time the sight of your glazed over eyes will be forever imprinted into his memory.

Although the Pogues hoped and prayed for the best while speeding back to shore, coated in your blood their wishes wouldn’t come true. On the way to the hospital you passed away due to blood loss.

This would ultimately make JJ and the rest of the Pogues feel guilty for the rest of their lives. If only they acted quicker.

Every night since that fateful day JJ would stay up laying on the pull out couch in John B’s living room. He was emotionally numb and tired. He desperately wanted to cry after all the love of his life just passed away and he couldn’t help, but think it was his fault. If only he didn’t drive the boat further out into the water or if only he jumped into the water and grabbed you before the attack. Despite wanting and needing to let his emotions out he continued to bottle them up. He was too numb to cry anyways.

JJ was so upset that he almost missed your funeral entirely. He couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed and face your family. After all wasn’t it his fault that he allowed you to feed into your impulsive antics?

Even though JJ was staying at John B’s he hadn’t said barely a word to any of his grieving friends. He was too heartbroken and wrapped up in his depressing thoughts. If only he knew it wasn't his fault nor yours and who was at fault was the chemistry in your brain.

So as he stood beside your family and the Pogues at your funeral a tear finally breaks free and falls down his face as your casket lowers into the ground.

A/N: I love this request, but i decided to take a different route while writing this as I didn’t want it to be too similar to my other fic Daredevil. Nonetheless I hope you like it and thank you for sending in a request! Love you and thank you for supporting me

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mczenrath · 4 years ago

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aesthetic.

what are your muse’s aesthetics? bold any which apply to your muse! remember to REPOST! feel free to add to the list!

[ COLORS ] ~ burgundy. red. crimson. scarlet. maroon. mahogany. copper. amber. chocolate. brown. tawny. tan. bronze. brass. orange. gold. saffron. yellow. chartreuse. spring green. lime. mint. green. olive. forest. turquoise. teal. cerulean. blue. navy. cobalt. periwinkle. indigo. pewter. plum. purple. magenta. fuchsia. lilac. lavender. pink. coral. peach. ivory. cream. white. silver. grey. smoke. charcoal. ebony. black. pastels. vibrant. matte. metallic. muted. dark. light.

[ BODY ] ~ mutations. claws. fangs. wings. tails. feathers. webs. spikes. scales. fur. stripes. spots. freckles. acne. bruises. scars. scratches. gashes. lashes. wounds. amputations. burns. brands. teeth. gums. tongues. lips. beards. mustaches. cheeks. noses. ears. eyes. eyelashes. eyebrows. hair. heads. neck. shoulders. collar bones. arms. elbows. wrists. hands. fingers. breast. back. ribs. abs. belly. hips. curves. butts. legs. thighs. knees. shins. ankles. feet. toes. nails. sweat. spit. tears. blood. heart. stomach. lungs. liver. veins. guts. bones. spine. muscle. skin. feline. canine. masculine. feminine.

[ WEAPONS ] ~ bites. fists. kicks. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. bow. crossbow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. bombs. missiles. boomerangs. lethal pets. lasers. canons.

[ MATERIALS ] ~ metal. gold. silver. platinum. pewter. titanium. iron. steel. copper. bronze. brass. tin. bismuth. diamonds. pearls. rubies. garnets. sapphires. emeralds. jade. peridots. alexandrite. opal. topaz. jasper. quartz. rose quartz. smoky quartz. amethyst. citrine. fluorite. amber. malachite. turquoise. lapis lazuli. sodalite. pyrite. labradorite. moonstone. petrified wood. wood. paper. parchment. hemp. canvas. burlap. oils skin. muslin. rayon. faux. wool. fur. lace. leather. skins. suede. corduroy. silk. satin. chiffon. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. rocks. flint. asphalt. brick. granite. marble. dust. rust. glitter. sand. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. nylon. polyester. plastic. glass. porcelain. bone. shells. coral.

[ NATURE ] ~ grass. leaves. trees. bark. flowers. roses. daisies. forget me nots. tulips. lavender. sunflowers. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. roots. ocean. pond. river. stream. waterfall. creek. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. tropical. jungle. marsh. moors. swamp. plains. hills. highlands. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. fire. lava. ice. frost. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. shadow. tornado. hurricane. water spout. thunder. hail. twisters. humidity. dryness.

[ ANIMALS ] ~ birds. penguins. eagles. owls. falcons. vultures. hawks. swans. parrots. parakeets. doves. pigeons. ducks. robins. cardinals. blue jays. bluebirds. blackbirds. crows. ravens. magpies. mockingbirds. flamingos. ostriches. seagulls. albatross. peacocks. condors. finches. pelicans. chickens. geese. quail. bats. sheep. cows. buffalo. deer. hedgehogs. elephants. horses. giraffes. cats. lions. tigers. pumas. cheetahs. jaguars. foxes. dogs. wolves. coyotes. bunnies. mice. rats. monkeys. apes. bears. pandas. polar bears. snakes. iguanas. chameleons. alligators. crocodiles. turtles. lizards. frogs. toads. whales.dolphins. fish. sharks. stingrays. octopus. lobsters. crabs. bugs. spiders. moths. butterflies. flies. maggots. roaches. ladybugs. beetles. cicadas. dragonflies. fleas. termites. leeches. worms. snails. mosquitoes. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. dinosaurs.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] ~ pepper. salt. sugar. honey. syrup. caramel. candy. bubblegum. mints. candy canes. gumdrops. lollipops. chocolate. vanilla. cinnamon. ice cream. cake. cookies. brownies. biscuits. pie. tarts. lemonade. soda. champagne. wine. brandy. rum. whiskey. vodka. tequila. sake. beer. soju. gin. crema de cacao. cocoa. latte. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. fruit. apples. oranges. lemons. cherries. strawberries. blueberries. raspberries. cranberries. watermelons. cantaloupes. bananas. coconuts. grapes. kiwi. pomegranates. tomatoes. vegetables. potatoes. cucumbers. carrots. turnips. onions. leeks. celery. broccoli. cabbages. lettuces. roots. nuts. white meat. red meat. raw meat. veal. pork. chicken. beef. venison. fish. lobster. oysters. pizza. ambrosia. pasta. sandwiches. soup.

[ HOBBIES ] ~ music. piano. flute. woodwinds. whistles. drums. guitar. cello. synthesizer. violin. lute. harp. fiddle. harmonica. trumpet. brass. singing. composing. folk. classical. bluegrass. blues. jazz. big band. pop. country. rock. punk. metal. electronica. hip hop. reggae. ska. rap. vinyl records. cassettes. cds. soundcloud. itunes. spotify. art. sculpting. pottery. painting. watercolour. drawing. pastels. charcoal. sketching. graffiti. printing. inking. collecting. fighting. martial arts. self-defense. boxing. fencing. sumo. wrestling. jousting. paintball. lazer tag. duelling. hunting. fishing. climbing. weight lifting. training. sports. football. football (usa). rugby. baseball. cricket. lacrosse. volleyball. basketball. tennis. badminton. skating. cycling. sailing. swimming. rowing. hiking. running. gymnastics. dancing. ice skating. hockey. reading. writing. cooking. sewing. acting. photography. video games. horseback riding. gardening. smithing. shopping. traveling. movies. theatre, libraries. books. magazines. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. science.

[ STYLE ] ~ nudism. perfume. cologne. piercings. tattoos. henna. body paint. war paint. make up. lipstick. mascara. eyeliner. eye shadow. powder. beauty marks. blush. nail polish. lingerie. fishnet. pantie-hoes. socks. stockings. leggings. long johns. under armor. corsets. sports bras. bustles. camisoles. blouses. button ups. tunics. vests. waistcoats. leather jackets. ponchos. sweaters/jumpers. hoodies. skirts. jeans. kilts. breeches. scarfs. cravats. ascots. belts. sashes. gloves. heels. sandals. platforms. tennis shoes. penny loafers. jordans. slippers. boots. cowboy boots. rain boots. army boots. armor. justaucorps. trench coats. capes. cloaks. burqa. suits. tuxedos. kimonos. saris. sun dresses. gowns. jewelry. earrings. nose rings. lip rings. tongue piercings. belly rings. gauges. eyebrow rings. necklaces. pearl strings. leis. bracelets. bangles. cuffs. watches. friendship bracelets. rings. pendants. lockets. broaches. boutonnieres. pocket watches. cuff links. hats. crowns. circlets. flower crowns. helmets. hijabs. turbans. baseball caps. cowboy hats. brocade. doublet. gorget. bracers. masks. cowls. braces. glasses. sun glasses. eye contacts. pajamas.

[ MISC ] ~ balloons. bubbles. candles. battle. war. diplomacy. peace. money. power. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. sex. hugs. duality. sin. lust. greed. wrath. envy. sloth. gluttony. pride. virtue. chivalry. honor. piety. charity. diligence. chastity. gentleness. aggression. romance. hatred. grief. pity. success. bitterness. sorrow. joy. fear. anger. good. evil. relativity. vampirism. sapphism. life. birth. time. death. illusion. silence.

Tagged stole from: @ababwa Tagging: @direbcrn @sunsreign & anyone else who wants to do iiit

#✸ meme;#✸ aesthetic;#( this was enjoyable c: )

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dustedmagazine · 5 years ago

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Dust, Volume 6, Number 10

The Slugs

September seemed to be the month when all the records on endless delay finally got kicked out the door, COVID or no, ready or not here we come. We’re deluged with music, some recorded before the world changed, some clearly cooked up mid-pandemic. There are a lot of covers EPs, lots of solo material, lots of home-made lo-fi, lots of benefit comps, and who are we to complain? Better, instead, to reach for the headphones, load up the hard drive, pile on the LPs and do some listening. Here’s some of the stuff that caught our attention, as usual ranging all over the continuum, from traditional to edgy and experimental, from silly pop punk to enraged death metal to bookish electro-acoustic improvisation. Contributors this time out included Jonathan Shaw, Patrick Masterson, Jennifer Kelly, Bill Meyer, Derek Taylor, Ray Garraty, Tim Clarke and Andrew Forell. Happy fall.

Amputation — Slaughtered in the Arms of God (Nuclear War Now!)

Slaughtered in the Arms of God by Amputation

Given the degree of smugness that accompanies utterances of the phrase “Old School Death Metal,” it’s frequently instructive to listen to some. Right on time, the misanthropic bunch at Nuclear War Now! has delivered some seriously Old School sounds to our digital doorstep. This new compilation LP gathers both of the demos of Norwegian knuckle-draggers Amputation, along with a contemporaneous rehearsal recording. Likely the resulting record will be of principal interest to fans of Immortal, the long-running, on-again-off-again Norwegian black metal band that Amputation would morph into in 1991. The songs collected on Slaughtered in the Arms of God have some additional musicological significance, as they document the sounds of 1989 and 1990, transformational years in Norway’s metal scene. Mayhem and Darkthrone tend to get most of the attention, for reasons both good and bad; and like Darkthrone, Amputation made death metal before transitioning to blacker, more brittle sounds. The music on Slaughtered in the Arms of God is muddy, thudding and thick. Perhaps that’s the result of the primitive recording tech the band used, likely of necessity. But through the murk (and to some degree because of it), you can hear the influence of Stockholm’s fecund death metal scene, especially Dismember’s earliest stuff. Scandinavia’s metal currents run deep and dark. Whether that means that Old School Death Metal is intrinsically a good thing is a different matter.

Jonathan Shaw

Anz — Loose in Twos (NRG) 12” (Hessle Audio)

Loos In Twos (NRG) by Anz

I love the idea of listening to DJ mixes of original or all-new material; it’s probably why I still value, say, Ricardo Villalobos’ Fabric 36 so much. Manchester’s Anna Marie-Odubote, aka Anz, has been doing just such a thing annually since 2015 and really went wild with spring/summer dubs 2020, which compiled 74 tracks into nearly an hour and a half of new music. That would’ve been more than enough amid all of this (imagine me gesturing around vaguely), but “Loos in Twos (NRG)” on the venerable Hessle Audio imprint is an equally formidable, decidedly tighter release I played a lot at the start of September. Three club-ready tracks here break down acid, jungle and footwork, and while all three are heady breaks, the looped vocals and bongo of “Stepper” make it the one for me. Get those feet moving digitally now so they’re comfortable once the vinyl arrives in early October.

Patrick Masterson

Ashes and Afterglow — Everybody Wants a Revolution (Postlude Paradox)

Ashes and Afterglow drops pop punk melodies into deep buckets of fuzz, lets them bubble and bob to the surface before shoving them under again. The band is mainly the output of one Luke Daniel, who appears to have been in other band called Sea of Orchids, but neither outfit has left much of an internet trail. And sure, this is the kind of thing that could easily get shuffled under; it breaks no moulds. And yet shuffling “To Take a Look at the World,” has a heart-worn resonance, Daniel’s voice echoing in reverbed hollow-ness against surging tides of guitar noise. “My Yesterday Girl” churns a little harder, with a bright, pop-leaning sort of hopefulness hedged in by seething feedback. It’s not bad, but it never hits a melodic vein the way that similarly inclined artists like Ted Leo or Ovlov or Tony Molina do, and it never pushes the noise over the top, either. Neither pop nor punk but somewhere in middle.

Jennifer Kelly

Ballister — Znachki Stilyag (Aerophonic)

Znachki Stilyag by Ballister

A cake is still a cake, whether you put chocolate frosting and strawberries or white icing and a fondant roses on top. And while they don’t all taste or look exactly the same, a Ballister album is still a Ballister album, and the first Ballister album in three years does not mess with the recipe. Dave Rempis (alto and tenor saxophones), Fred Lonberg-Holm (cello and electronics), and Paal Nilssen-Love (drums and percussion) still trade in a particularly hard-hitting form of total improvisation. The changes are ones of emphasis — Lonberg-Holm sounds like he’s using a wah-wah pedal and deploys some especially slashing feedback tones, there’s a bit more space in Nilssen-Love’s intricate beat configurations, and Rempis left his baritone sax at home — and of location. Znachki Stilyag was recorded during the fall of 2019 in Moscow, Russia, which may explain why the big horn stayed at home. But the ones you hear still cut and thrust with broadsword force and rapier precision. This is a cake you can trust.

Bill Meyer

Vincent Chancey — The Spell: The Vincent Chancey Trio Live, 1987 (No Business)

Vincent Chancey likely isn’t alone amongst his peers in feeling exasperated by folks singling out his instrument as uncommon or unusual to jazz. It’s a form of damning through faint praise and one that feel

s even more lackadaisical with any time spent with his music. Chancey plays the French horn and he’s plied it in settings as diverse as Sun Ra Arkestra, Lester Bowie’s Brass Fantasy and Charlie Haden’s Liberation Music Orchestra as well as gigs supporting Aretha Franklin and Elvis Costello. It’s unclear whether the trio documented on The Spell was a working concern, but that hardly matters given how well bassist Wilbur Morris and percussionist Warren Smith gel with their convener. Spread across two sides of an LP, the concert recorded at a New York City art gallery covers four pieces, two by Morris bookending one apiece from Smith and the leader that stitch together very much like cohesive suite. An unadvertised surprise comes with Smith’s ample application of marimba alongside a regular drum kit. Recording quality isn’t optimal, but Chancey’s rich, rounded, phrases gain extra gravitas through the sometimes-grainy acoustics. Woefully underrepresented in the driver’s seat discographically, his acumen as both improviser and composer is easily vindicated by this limited edition (300 copies) release.

Derek Taylor

Che Chen — Tokyo 17.II.2012 (self-released)

Tokyo 17.II.2012 by Che Chen

Nowadays Che Chen has earned a measure renown as the guitar-playing half of 75 Dollar Bill, and all the praise is earned. But before that, he played a roomful of instruments in the True Primes, Heresy of the Free Spirit and duos with Robbie Lee, Tetuzi Akiyama and Chie Mukai. The through-lines to all these efforts is a willingness not to play things the way their supposed to be played, and a gift for supplying the right resonance in any setting. Since 75 Dollar Bill is a New York-based band made for social occasions, the COVID-19 lay-off has been especially hard — so there’s no better time to see what’s in those hard drives in the closet, right? Chen has released this solo concert from 2012 via Bandcamp. In Tokyo for a brief layover, he played amplified violin at a party held in the basement of someone’s apartment building. The amplified part is important; dips and swells of feedback count as much as in this 25-minute performance as the fiddle’s bright, plucked notes and rough, bowed tones. Chen moves purposefully from one mode to next, taking time along the way to savor the room’s lively acoustics.

Bill Meyer

Jeff Cosgrove/ John Medeski/ Jeff Lederer — History Gets Ahead of the Story (Grizzley Music)

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Odds are that even the estimable William Parker would be surprised by the prospect of a William Parker cover album. But that’s essentially what History Gets Ahead of the Story is as organized and realized by drummer Jeff Cosgrove. That the project is the province of an organ trio only adds to the potential consternation quotient. John Medeski officiates the Hammond B-3 console and saxophonist Jeff Lederer, doubling on flute, completes the combo convened by Cosgrove. The latter’s connections to Parker stem from a trio he was part of with the bassist/composer and pianist Matthew Shipp that disbanded in 2015 after fruitful collaboration. Parker’s personage and music left an indelible mark and the seeds for the present album were sown. Collective creative license doesn’t get in the way of soulful, energizing renderings of such staples as “O’Neal’s Porch,” “Corn Meal Dance” and “Wood Flute Songs,” but troika also cedes time for a triptych of strong originals that align aurally with their dedicatee’s inclusive tone world sensibilities.

Derek Taylor

Derelenismo Occulere — Inexorable Revelación (Le Legione Projets)

Inexorable Revelacion (FULL LENGHT 2020) by Derelenismo Occulere

This sounds like a rehearsal gone wrong. In the time of the COVID pandemic, Neo Apolion, a guy responsible for the music in this Ecuadorean duo, recorded a demo and sent it to the band’s vocalist Malduchryst with a message to do with it whatever he wants. Malduchryst took his band partner’s words all too literally. With complete disregard to the music he began vomiting a noisy, messy mass of screams to a microphone (has he never heard of a black metal with no vocals?). If it sounds totally batshit, you can rest assured that it is. This is what makes Inexorable Revelación actually great black metal. When a lot of metal bands these days are just Backstreet Boys with leather jackets on and with guitars, Derelenismo Occulere care about only fury and mayhem. Their Argentinean mix man Ignacio only adds more chaos to the album. The only flaw this tape has is that it is 15 minutes too long.

Ray Garraty

Whit Dickey — Morph (ESP-Disk)

Morph by Whit Dickey

Drummer Whit Dickey and pianist Matthew Shipp have been recurrent partners since the early 1990s, when they were both members of the David S. Ware Quartet. It’s fair to say that each man is a known quantity to the other, and that one of the things they know about each other is that they might still be surprised by the other’s playing. Dickey’s retreated from time to time in order to revise his approach, and while Shipp has often threatened to quit recording over the years, he has never stopped working or evolving. This double disc combines one duo CD and another that adds trumpeter Nate Wooley to the pair. Wooley’s done a number of dates with Shipp in recent times, but he and Dickey were musical strangers before they entered Park West Studios in March 2019. Without Wooley, Shipp and Dickey seem very free and trusting of each other, transitioning with dreamlike ease from abstracted gospel to sideways swing to restless co-rumination this the ease. The trio seems more considered. The trumpeter dips quite sparingly into his extended technique bag, favoring instead linear statements that instigate fleet perambulations from the pianist and more supportive, less overtly dialogic contributions from the drummer. Both sessions work, and their differences complement each other quite handily.

Bill Meyer

Dropdead — S/T (Armageddon)

Dropdead 2020 by Dropdead

Yep, it’s that Dropdead, the Providence-based powerviolence band that hasn’t released a proper LP since 1998 and was on a long hiatus through much of the 21st century. Since 2011, Dropdead has put out a string of splits, with heavyweights like Converge and Brainoil. But a whole record? Maybe the unrelentingly shitty condition of our political and economic conjuncture motivated the four guys in the band (three of whom have been affiliated with Dropdead since 1991) to write the 23 burners, rants and breakdown-heavy hardcore tunes you’ll hear across Dropdead’s 25 minutes. It’s a welcome addition. Bob Otis’s voice doesn’t have the shredding quality of days of yore — but that ends up being useful. You can hear the lyrics, and they’re drenched in venom and righteousness. The rest of the band hasn’t lost a step. Pretty impressive for a bunch of guys with that much grey in their beards. That said, they don’t pull any intergenerational, “we’re-older-and-wiser” moves. This is still music that wants to collapse boundaries, between stage and mosh pit, between races and genders, between species, even. Not so much class positions: “Warfare State,” “United States of Corruption,” “Will You Fight?” Late capitalism’s depredations still bear the principal brunt of the band’s anger. Things have gotten worse, and Dropdead respond in kind. They may be a lot older, but they’re even more pissed off.

Jonathan Shaw

Fake Laugh — Waltz (State 51 Conspiracy)

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Earlier this year, Kamran Khan released his second Fake Laugh album, the charming, playful Dining Alone, which made its way into Dusted’s mid-year round-up of favorites released in the first half of 2020. Khan’s third album, Waltz, is a very different beast, featuring just piano, vocals and the odd keyboard texture, casting his songwriting in sharp relief. Undoubtedly created in this stripped-down way out of lockdown necessity, it’s hard to listen to these wistful, melancholic songs without imagining where Khan’s knack for colorful arrangements might take them, given the chance. (As a tease, closing song “Amhurst” offers up a shimmering electronic melody and some sighing synth chords.) There’s no doubting Khan’s way with a tune, and his naked vocal, though occasionally showing strain, suits the mood. It’s understated and undeniably lovely, yet Waltz feels like a minor release for this talented artist.

Tim Clarke

David Grubbs / Taku Unami — Comet Meta (Blue Chopsticks)

Comet Meta by David Grubbs & Taku Unami

In the 23 years since Gastr Del Sol fell apart, David Grubbs has done many things that don’t sound much like his old band with Jim O’Rourke. And Taku Unami has worked in such varied settings and ways that the most persistent quality of his engagement with sound is its ability to induce question marks and ellipses in any train of thought intending to decode it. So, it’s both remarkable and delightful that this record, the duo’s second collaboration, sounds rather like parts of Gastr Del Sol’s Upgrade & Afterlife. The foundation rests upon the way two guys who can and do play intricate guitar duets make subtle use of other elements — creeping acoustic piano, humming synthesizer, urban field recordings — to make music that thickens atmosphere and accumulates mystery with such subtlety that you don’t notice it until you’re in it.

Bill Meyer

Guided by Voices — Mirrored Aztec (Guided by Voices Inc.)

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I know, I know, it’s another Guided by Voices record, the fifth since 2019, but hear me out. Pollard is still tapped into the fuzzy, rackety, melodic sap of the rock and roll universe, and he has only to knock his hammer a few times against the gnarled tree of life to extract more of what sustains us. Shorter version: he can do this all day, every day, without any noticeable let-up in quality. So, let us celebrate another batch of Who-like power chords, of rumbling drums and monumental bass thuds, of melodies that curve out delicately like spring’s first vines, then thicken into thundering climaxes and triumphant refrains. Let us give thanks again for inscrutable lyrics that drift off into poetry then pull back in the most ordinary artifacts of the spoken word. “I Think I Had It. I Think I Have It,” crows Pollard in a voice that has been blasted by time but come out more or less intact, and yes, Bob, you still do.

Jennifer Kelly

Edu Haubensak & Tomas Korber — Works for Guitar & Percussion (Ezz-thetics)

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The celebrated Wandelweiser aesthetic serves as a loose overarching impetus for the four interpretations of compositions by Edu Haubensak and Tomas Korber that comprise Works for Guitar & Percussion. Classical guitarist Christian Buck and improvising percussionist Christian Wolfarth ply their instruments through pairing and isolation. Essayist Andy Hamilton describes context by delineating a distinction between music (based in the language of tones) and soundart (which is non-tonal) and placing the duo’s interpretations in the opaque border between these realms. Repetition and timbral disparity frame Haubensak’s “On” while Korber’s “Aufhebung” applies scrutiny to microtonal diversity and temporal impermanence. Wolfarth fields Korber’s “Weniger Weiss” from behind snare drum, trading recurring stick rolls with varying segments of silence that compel ears accustomed to Western musical structures to consciously fill in the blanks. Haubensak’s solo “Refugium” finds Buck bending two closely tuned strings in an extrapolation of an Arabic maqam that feels tenuously connected to the form, at best.

Derek Taylor

Inseclude — Inseclude (Inseclude)

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Brad MacAllister of CTRL and Blue Images and Benjamin Londa of Exit have been working in the darkwave and chillwave scenes for several years and their first album as Inseclude is a long distance collaboration that mines the darker side of 1980s alternative and electronic rock. From Pennsylvania, MacAllister sent musical ideas to Londa in Texas who added guitars, lyrics and vocals to produce a set of songs that are well made and enjoyable if largely unmemorable. There are a number of contemporary bands doing similar things — Hamilton’s Capitol and Manchester’s Ist spring immediately to mind — taking the Cure, New Order, Sisters of Mercy template and why not? Unfortunately, the passage of time and the law of diminishing returns have led to overfamiliarity with this style of music that makes for easy and perhaps unfair comparisons. When they stretch themselves, Inseclude’s songs do hit. “Sondera” and “Failing To The Pulse” carry some real menace with the juxtaposition of wide-angle synths and paranoid vocals but elsewhere the pair seem held back by a restraint and lack of bottom end that diminish the impact of some pretty decent songs.

Andrew Forell

Kvalia — Scholastic Dreams Of Forceful Machines (Old Boring Russia)

Схоластические Грёзы Силовых Машин by Квалиа

Krasnoyarsk sits on the banks of the Yenisei river in southern Siberia and is known both for the natural beauty of its surrounding landscape and for its primacy as an aluminum producer. Local musicians Aleksander Maznichenko and Aleksey Danilenko reflect the latter on their new five track EP Scholastic Dreams Of Forceful Machines, an icy, metallic collection of post-industrial clang pitched somewhere between Einstürzende Neubauten and early Clock DVA. Their machines are forceful but cranky, rusted, near obsolete. Maznichenko keeps the thrum of turbines is steady but the drum machines lurch and thump, the keyboards whine and scream, the Russian vocals protest their obstreperous charges. Danilenko’s bass is post-punk elastic skipping amongst the raining sparks hinting at a will to dance with his mutant riffs. They sound like they mean it and the result is a terrific EP full of fire, fumes, steam and sweat.

Andrew Forell

Mezzanine Swimmers — Kneelin’ on a Knife (Already Dead)

Kneelin' on a Knife by Mezzanine Swimmers

These songs circle around noise-crusted, repetitive beats, the drumming stiff and mechanical, the riffs chopped to short bursts, the vocals woozy and distended. “Sexy Apology” reiterates a three-note keyboard lick ad infinitum, as main Swimmer Mike Smith drawls the title phrase, similarly on repeat. Yet within this unchanging structure, chaos erupts in detuned keyboards, miasmic feedback and corrosive noise. It’s hard to say whether these songs are too tightly organized or too loose, a bit of both really, and yet, get past the headachy thud and there’s an unhinged psychotropic transport. No one ever said that kneeling on knives would be comfortable.

Jennifer Kelly

Mosca — The Optics (Rent)

Mosca · The Optics [RENT001]

Part of the initial wave of neon-infused dubstep hedonism surrounding the Night Slugs camp at the turn of the last decade, Mosca’s Tom Reid has since survived on the strength of a regular slot behind the decks at NTS and sparingly deployed releases on such renowned labels as Numbers, Rinse, Hypercolour and Livity Sound. “The Optics” debuts his new Rent imprint, conceived as a way to get out music that doesn’t fit in elsewhere. (Originally, this was to be an a-side for a coming AD93 release, but as he says, “There's only so long you can keep a track with a baby crying in it back from the masses.”) Supposedly inspired by the Under the Skin beach scene, the five-minute track immediately throws you off with a dub-heavy shuffle and metallic, alien sounds that zoom around the mix. The main thrust of the melody arrives around a minute in, and gradually the sounds close in on you. There’s bells, birds, a baby crying and then, just when you’re feeling completely stressed out, it all falls away; a driving jungle rhythm carries you the rest of the way. Deeply satisfying dance from a head who hasn’t lost his way.

Patrick Masterson

Prana Crafter/ragenap — No Ear to Hear (Centripetal Force Studio/Cardinal Fuzz)

No Ear to Hear by Prana Crafter / ragenap

When Robert Hunter, the poet who wrote lyrics for the Grateful Dead’s “Dark Star,” “Ripple,” “Truckin’,” “Terrapin Station” and many other songs, died in late 2019, long form psych musicians Prana Crafter (William Sol) and ragenap (Joel Berk) mourned separately but simultaneously. The night he died, both took solace in improvised music, which didn’t so much evoke or represent Hunter, but captured some of their feelings about his work and their loss. When they talked, soon after, they found that both had made lengthy open-ended meditations on the same person. Those two extended pieces make up No Ear to Hear. Prana Crafter’s entry, “Beggar’s Tomb,” is weighted and slow moving, building gradually from simmering drones into towering edifices of feedback and dissonance. Although performed largely on guitar, the sound is filtered through gleaming effects and layers into astral strangeness, a mystic’s trip through mental interiors. ragenap’s “Nightfall” also takes shape slowly out of looming sustained notes and black velvet quiet and sounds that scratch and vibrate at the edges. A solitary acoustic guitar takes up space at the forefront finally, carving a hesitant melody across the hum. The tune turns fuller and more agitated as it progresses, adding layers of feedback and distortion. Neither of these pieces sounds much like the Grateful Dead, and of course, neither has any sort of lyrics. I doubt that anyone, hearing this album for the first time would say, “Oh yeah, Robert Hunter.” And yet inspiration works in strange and, in this case, fruitful ways. You can enjoy this even if you don’t like the Dead.

Jennifer Kelly

Raven Throne — Viartannie (Chroniki Źmiainaj Ciemry) (self-released)

Viartannie (Chroniki Źmiainaj Ciemry) /The Return (The Chronicles of the Serpent Darkness) by RAVEN THRONE

These Belorussian black metal veterans are true materialists. On their seventh album, they show that nature is a social construct, not something given. And boy, their nature is not a loving mother. Unlike many metal bands convey nature via field recordings, Raven Throne craft their ferocious sounds with guitars and drums. Aren’t these as natural instruments as stone and wooden sticks? The atmospheric black metal subgenre has been contaminated by pop and folksy metal so that it’s hard to maintain a truly evil sound, while still bringing the atmospheric elements into it. Raven Throne pull it off. This is how darkness should sound.

Ray Garraty

The Slugs — Don’t Touch Me I’m Too Slimy (2214099 Records DK)

Don't Touch Me, I'm Too Slimy by The Slugs

The Slugs are an exuberantly lo-fi punk pop duo out of London who bash and thump and shout short, acidic ditties about being female, in a band, under assault and under the weather. Liberty Hodes, who is also one half of the comedy duo A Comedy Night that Passes the Bechdel Test, plays a jangling, forceful electric guitar, while her Phoebe Dighton-Brown bangs away in brutal simplicity on the drums. Both sing, sometimes in unison, sometimes in rough harmonies, occasionally in slashing counterparts. (One chants “Feel sick/can’t be sick” while the other rolls out mellifluous “ah-ah-ah-ahs” in “Feel Sick.”) There is a charming, unstudied quality to their music, which is a bit too smart and biting to be primitive, but nonetheless eschews frills. It’s hard to pick favorites—the whole EP is over in five tracks and 11 minutes—but “Pest” is giddy fun, with its slouching, battering guitar-drum motif and slacker choruses. The shout along chorus of “Don’t touch me! I’m too slimy!” is the best thing on the record, hitting a rebellious, unwashed spot of resonance in the work-from-home era. Second best, the gleeful tirade about sleazy male promoters in “Girly Gang” (“Give you all the gigs if you touch my wang”), which builds in round-singing euphorias until it ends suddenly and a la Jane Austen in matrimony (“Married in a dress by Vera Wang”). People are comparing the Slugs to the Shaggs, but that’s just short-hand for banging away anyway without all the training. The Slugs are smarter, slyer and more autonomous, and if they sound a little rough, that’s exactly how they meant to sound.

Jennifer Kelly

Tobin Sprout — Empty Horses (Fire)

Empty Horses by Tobin Sprout

Blessed with one of the finest names in music (alongside dEUS’s Klaas Janzoons), Tobin Sprout is best known for being part of the Guided by Voices line-up that created classic albums such as Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes in the 1990s. Though Sprout’s subsequent solo output has been a steady stream compared to Robert Pollard’s deluge, Empty Horses is his eighth solo album. In it, the now-65-year-old ruminates faith, mortality and American history atop a spare, country-tinged backing. There’s a deep ache to many of these songs, the kind of emotional weight that manifests in pointedly low tempos, sparse drum parts that hang behind the beat and vocal performances that are almost uncomfortably intimate. Running to a succinct half-hour, with many of the songs clocking in at just a couple of minutes each, Empty Horses confronts demons seemingly too pernicious to overcome. Yet, when the music becomes more expansive — such as the graceful pedal steel of “Breaking Down,” the woozy modulation of “Antietam,” or the biting fuzztone of “All In My Sleep” — Sprout sounds like he may be on the verge of making a much-needed breakthrough.

Tim Clarke

Son Lux — Tomorrows I (City Slang)

Tomorrows I by Son Lux

Son Lux’s songs embed unsettling sounds in deep wells of silence, finding disturbing textures in string sounds, electronics, percussion and the fluttering soul falsetto of founder Ryan Lott. Tomorrows I, reportedly the first of three related albums, has a quietly dystopian vibe and a moist, echoing unease that might remind of you Burial’s classic Untrue. A brief, looped, keening violin motif punctures the opening cut, “Plans We Made” with all the threat of Bernhard Hermann’s shower music for the film Psycho, while Lott trills haunted phrases about being afraid to let go. “Undertow,” near the end, brings in a whole string quartet to swoon dissonantly, as a knocking beat (drummer Ian Chang) sounds like a body being dragged across the floor. “Just waiting for the undertow,” sings Lott in the dread empty spaces between, in arias of muted desolation. Minimalist and menacing and mesmerizing.

Jennifer Kelly

Ulaan Janthina — Ulaan Janthina (Part 1) (Worstward)

Ulaan Janthina (Part I) by Ulaan Janthina

Steven R. Smith contains multitudes, and Ulaan Janthina is the latest manifestation of his mutating musical self. This release exemplifies three aspects of Smith’s practice. First, he likes to make beautiful things. Hard copies of this tape come in a custom-oriented box that contains tinted photos, shells and printed communications as well as the cassette. And he’s project-oriented. While other iterations have been devoted to an Eastern European vibe, or guitar noise or a virtual ensemble sound, Ulaan Janthina results from a decision to work primarily with the keyboards in his house. It’s a winning strategy, since his synthesizers, organ and harmonium all benefit from the grittiness of Smith’s recording methodology, and his spare playing style makes his melodies stand out quite starkly from the background atmosphere. Like the name says, this is part one of the Janthina (named for a genus of sea snail that makes its own floating platform — not a bad metaphor for the survival-oriented independent musician) venture; a second, similarly packaged cassette is pending from Smith’s Worstward imprint soon, and a future release is already planned by Soft Abuse records.

Bill Meyer

Various Artists — Spr Blk: Liberation Jazz and Soul From the '70s and Beyond (Paxico)

Liberation Jazz and Soul by Marcus J. Moore

Author Marcus J. Moore (late of The Nation but also found everywhere from Pitchfork to WaPo) has a book on the way in October, The Butterfly Effect: How Kendrick Lamar Ignited the Soul of Black America. In advance of its release via cassette devotees Paxico, Moore cobbled together “rare and somewhat familiar” Black music from his own crates. “These are the kinds of songs I play when walking through New York City or driving through Maryland,” he says in the release. What that means for you is a two-sided mix that burns slower on the A and gets more percussion-heavy on the B. Leading off with Doug Carn’s fittingly titled “Swell Like a Ghost” and featuring jams from Willie Dale, Milton Wright, Ronald Snijders and other lesser jazz, soul and funk lights, it’s a revealing mix that will no doubt pair well with that fall reading you’re about to get going on.

Patrick Masterson

Vatican Shadow — Persian Pillars of the Gasoline Era (20 Buck Spin)

Persian Pillars Of The Gasoline Era by Vatican Shadow

Dominick Fernow is hugely prolific, and most folks with ears tuned to the densely churning worlds of noise and industrial music will be familiar with his abrasive, unsettling output under the Prurient moniker. Fernow’s releases as Vatican Shadow are fewer in number, and more attuned to ambient, even melodic movements and textures. That’s sort of odd, given that the Vatican Shadow records thematize and explore Fernow’s obsession with the history of the Middle East, especially post-9/11 collisions of Western military force, Islamic traditions of resistance and the tactics of terror used by both sides. Relaxing stuff, that ain’t. Consistent with the larger project’s tendencies, Persian Pillars of the Gasoline Era claims an interest in the CIA-coordinated Iranian coup (MI6 helped out, too, those imperial scamps) that deposed Mohammed Mossadeq, installed the Shah Reza Pahlavi and inaugurated some of the principal tensions that have shaped the last half-century of world history. It’s unclear how Fernow’s pulsing, shimmering, sometimes juddering synth sounds are meant to represent or otherwise engage that history. For sure, record art and song titles summon all the right semiotics, sometimes with an interesting edge. But “Taxi Journey through the Teeming Slums of Tehran” sounds more like a malfunctioning MP3 player than a taxi or a “teeming slum” (can we all be done with that phrase now?), and “Moving Secret Money” is pleasantly trance-inducing, rather than insidiously evil. Musically, it’s quite good. The packaging seems to want strike other notes. Maybe that’s the point — too many folks are too busy consuming quietist pop to bother with the grind of the political. But is this the intervention we need?

Jonathan Shaw

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rightpath · 4 years ago

Text

aesthetic.

What are your muse’s aesthetics? BOLD any which apply to your muse! Remember to REPOST! Feel free to add to the list!

[ COLOURS ] ~ burgundy. RED. crimson. scarlet. maroon. mahogany. copper. AMBER. CHOCOLATE. brown. tawny. tan. bronze. BRASS. orange. gold. saffron. yellow. chartreuse. spring green. lime. mint. green. olive. forest. turquoise. teal. CERULEAN. blue. navy. cobalt. periwinkle. indigo. pewter. plum. purple. magenta. fuchsia. lilac. lavender. pink. coral. peach. IVORY. cream. white. SILVER. grey. SMOKE. charcoal. ebony. black. pastels. vibrant. matte. METALLIC. muted. dark. light.

[ BODY ] ~ mutations. claws. fangs. wings. tails. FEATHERS. webs. spikes. scales. fur. stripes. spots. freckles. acne. bruises. scars. scratches. gashes. lashes. wounds. amputations. burns. brands. teeth. gums. tongues. lips. beards. mustaches. CHEEKS. noses. ears. eyes. EYELASHES. eyebrows. HAIR. heads. neck. shoulders. collar bones. arms. elbows. wrists. HANDS. fingers. breast. back. ribs. abs. belly. hips. curves. butts. legs. thighs. knees. shins. ankles. feet. toes. nails. SWEAT. spit. TEARS. BLOOD. heart. stomach. lungs. liver. veins. guts. bones. SPINE. muscle. skin. FELINE. canine. MASCULINE. FEMININE.

[ WEAPONS ] ~ bites. fists. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. bow. crossbow. hammer. SHIELD. poison. GUNS. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. TASERS. MACHINE GUNS. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. BOMBS. MISSILES. boomerangs. lethal pets. LASERS.

[ MATERIALS ] ~ METAL. gold. silver. platinum. pewter. TITANIUM. IRON. STEEL. copper. BRONZE. brass. tin. bismuth. diamonds. pearls. rubies. garnets. sapphires. emeralds. jade. peridots. alexandrite. opal. topaz. jasper. quartz. rose quartz. smoky quartz. amethyst. citrine. fluorite. amber. malachite. turquoise. lapis lazuli. sodalite. pyrite. labradorite. moonstone. petrified wood. wood. paper. parchment. hemp. canvas. burlap. oils skin. muslin. rayon. faux. wool. fur. lace. leather. skins. suede. corduroy. silk. satin. chiffon. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. rocks. flint. asphalt. brick. granite. marble. dust. rust. glitter. sand. dirt. mud. SMOKE. ash. carbonate. rubber. SYNTHETICS. nylon. polyester. plastic. GLASS. porcelain. bone. shells. coral.

[ NATURE ] ~ grass. leaves. trees. bark. flowers. roses. daisies. forget me nots. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. roots. OCEAN. pond. river. stream. waterfall. creek. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. tropical. jungle. marsh. moors. swamp. plains. hills. highlands. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. CLOUDS. mountains. fire. lava. ice. frost. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. shadow. tornado. hurricane. water spout. thunder. hail. twisters. humidity. dryness.

[ ANIMALS ] ~ birds. penguins. eagles. owls. falcons. vultures. hawks. swans. parrots. parakeets. doves. pigeons. ducks. robins. cardinals. blue jays. bluebirds. blackbirds. crows. ravens. magpies. mockingbirds. flamingos. ostriches. seagulls. STORKS. albatross. peacocks. condors. finches. pelicans. chickens. geese. quail. bats. sheep. cows. buffalo. deer. hedgehogs. elephants. horses. giraffes. CATS. lions. tigers. pumas. cheetahs. jaguars. foxes. dogs. wolves. coyotes. bunnies. mice. rats. monkeys. apes. bears. pandas. polar bears. snakes. iguanas. chameleons. alligators. crocodiles. turtles. lizards. frogs. toads. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. stingrays. octopus. lobsters. crabs. bugs. spiders. ants. moths. butterflies. flies. maggots. roaches. ladybugs. beetles. cicadas. dragonflies. fleas. termites. leeches. worms. snails. mosquitoes. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. dinosaurs.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] ~ pepper. salt. SUGAR. honey. SYRUP. caramel. CANDY. bubblegum. mints. candy canes. gumdrops. lollipops. CHOCOLATE. vanilla. cinnamon. ICE CREAM. CAKE. COOKIES. BROWNIES. biscuits. pie. tarts. lemonade. SODA. champagne. wine. brandy. rum. whiskey. vodka. tequila. sake. beer. soju. gin. crema de cacao. COCOA. latte. coffee. TEA. spices. herbs. fruit. apples. oranges. lemons. cherries. STRAWBERRIES. blueberries. raspberries. cranberries. watermelons. cantaloupes. bananas. coconuts. grapes. kiwi. pomegranates. tomatoes. vegetables. potatoes. cucumbers. carrots. turnips. onions. leeks. celery. broccoli. cabbages. lettuces. roots. nuts. white meat. red meat. raw meat. veal. pork. chicken. beef. venison. fish. lobster. oysters. pizza. ambrosia. pasta. sandwiches. soup.

[ HOBBIES ] ~ music. piano. flute. woodwinds. whistles. drums. guitar. cello. synthesizer. violin. lute. harp. fiddle. harmonica. trumpet. brass. singing. composing. folk. classical. bluegrass. blues. jazz. big band. pop. country. rock. punk. metal. electronica. hip hop. reggae. ska. rap. vinyl records. cassettes. cds. soundcloud. itunes. spotify. art. sculpting. pottery. painting. watercolour. drawing. pastels. charcoal. sketching. graffiti. printing. inking. collecting. FIGHTING. martial arts. self-defence. boxing. fencing. sumo. wrestling. jousting. paintball. LAZER TAG. duelling. hunting. fishing. climbing. weight lifting. TRAINING. sports. football. football (usa). rugby. baseball. cricket. lacrosse. volleyball. basketball. tennis. badminton. skating. cycling. sailing. rowing. hiking. running. gymnastics. dancing. ice skating. hockey. reading. writing. cooking. sewing. acting. photography. VIDEO GAMES. horseback riding. gardening. smithing. shopping. traveling. MOVIES. theatre. libraries. books. magazines. playing cards. poker chips. CHESS. dice. science.

[ STYLE ] ~ nudism. perfume. cologne. piercings. tattoos. henna. body paint. war paint. make up. lipstick. mascara. eyeliner. eye shadow. powder. beauty marks. blush. nail polish. lingerie. fishnet. pantie-hoes. socks. stockings. leggings. long johns. under armor. corsets. sports bras. bustles. camisoles. blouses. button ups. tunics. VESTS. waistcoats. leather jackets. ponchos. sweaters/jumpers. hoodies. SKIRTS. jeans. kilts. breeches. scarfs. cravats. ascots. BELTS. sashes. gloves. heels. sandals. platforms. tennis shoes. penny loafers. jordans. slippers. BOOTS. cowboy boots. rain boots. army boots. armor. justaucorps. trench coats. capes. cloaks. burqa. suits. tuxedos. kimonos. saris. sun dresses. gowns.jewelry. earrings. noes rings. lip rings. tongue piercings. belly rings. gauges. eyebrow rings.necklaces. pearl strings. leis. bracelets. bangles. cuffs. watches. friendship bracelets. rings. pendants. lockets. broaches. boutonnieres. pocket watches. cuff links. hats. crowns. circlets. flower crowns. helmets. hijabs. turbans. baseball caps. cowboy hats. brocade. doublet. gorget. bracers. masks. cowls. braces. glasses. sun glasses. eye contacts. pyjamas.

[ MISC ] ~ balloons. bubbles. candles. BATTLE. WAR. DIPLOMACY. PEACE. money. POWER. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. OPTIMISM. pessimism. loneliness. family. FRIENDS. assistants. co-workers. enemies. LOYALTY. smoking. drugs. KINDNESS. love. sex. hugs. duality. sin. lust. greed. wrath. envy. sloth. gluttony. pride. virtue. CHIVALRY. HONOR. piety. charity. DILIGENCE. chastity. gentleness. AGGRESSION. romance. hatred. grief. pity. success. bitterness. sorrow. joy. fear. ANGER. good. evil. relativity. vampirism. sapphism. life. BIRTH. time. death. illusion. silence.

#〈 ᴍɪʏᴀᴏ 〉 : general → study.#〈 ᴍɪʏᴀᴏ 〉 : general → aes.#long post //

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