#But I think instead of HM's WIM

[meganechan05]

Yes. Yes, it is ( ￣▽￣)

I don't know if it's me aging myself but I had a bit of a heartbreak upon realizing I've seen 0 fanart of Himeno drawn in the Hatsune Miku "World is Mine" art style or a redraw of said song's PV once the first Song Collection was announced.

If anyone has seen any, mind linking me to some? ヽ(；▽；)ノ

[voskhozhdeniye]

Hm @unknownbabe1

I made two lists on here 5(YIKES) years ago of my favorite films.

The first list was of “films that have had the most impact on me for one reason or another,” and the second one was of highlights that I love, but couldn’t fit on the first list.

First List:

Larisa Shepitko’s The Ascent

Jonathan Caoquette’s Tarnation

Richard Linklater’s Waking Life

Terrence Malick’s The Tree of Life

Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Dreamers

Andrei Tarkovsky’s Solaris

Louis Malle’s Au revoir les enfants

Godfrey Reggio’s Koyaanisqatsi

Steve McQueen’s 12 Years A Slave

Stanley Kubrick’s 2001 A Space Odyssey

Second List:

Lindsay Anderson’s If…

Edgar Wright’s Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World

Gordon Douglas’ Them!

Chuck Jones’ The Dot and the Line: A Romance in Lower Mathematics

Albert Lamorisse’s The Red Balloon

Stan Brakhage’s The Dante Quartet

Robin Hardy’s The Wicker Man

Wes Anderson’s Moonrise Kingdom

Nobuhiko Obayashi’s House

Current Reflections:

That first list still stands. Those are all films that made me go “oh you can do that,” or I just deeply connected with. I don’t like The Dreamers like that, but it was a major shock to the system to me almost 20 years ago. I feel like I would take 2001 off and replace it with a Bergman film. I like 2001, but it’s more an imposing spectacle than anything else. I prefer films that deal with people’s lives. I think that’s why I like Malick. He makes simply living a grand statement. I held myself to 10 for that first list, but The Dante Quartet belongs on it. In fact, instead of just choosing one Brakhage film, I’d just list his name.

I would also add to it:

Alan Clarke‘s Elephant

Hiroshi Teshigahara’s Woman in the Dunes

Mariposa Film Group’s Word Is Out - Stories of Some of Our Lives

Louis Malle’s My Dinner with Andr��

Claude Lanzmann’s Shoah

Barry Jenkins‘ Moonlight

Céline Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire

Alfonso Cuarón‘s Children of Men

Jan Němec’s A Report on the Party and Guests

Richard Ayoade’s The Double

Jennie Livingston‘s Paris Is Burning

Robert Wise‘s The Haunting

Mathieu Kassovitz‘s La haine

François Truffaut’s The 400 Blows

Rémy Belvaux, André Bonzel and Benoît Poelvoorde’s Man Bites Dog

Jonathan Glazer’s Under The Skin

Allan King’s Dying at Grace

Brad Bird‘s The Incredibles

Gregg Araki’s Mysterious Skin

Samuel Fuller's The Steel Helmet

Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now

Chantal Akerman’s Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles

Jack Clayton‘s The Pumpkin Eater

Wim Wenders and Juliano Ribeiro Salgado‘s The Salt of the Earth

Jean Vigo’s Zéro de conduite

Hal Ashby’s Harold and Maude

Bob Fosse’s All That Jazz

Michelangelo Antonioni‘s Blow-Up

Ridley Scott’s Alien

Mikhail Kalatozov‘s Letter Never Sent

Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later

Sidney Lumet’s Network

Fred M. Wilcox‘s Forbidden Planet

Evald Schorm‘s Return of the Prodigal Son

Special shout out to the Dardenne brothers, Bergman, Cassavetes, Pasolini, Kurosawa, Soderbergh, Cronenberg, Oshima, Kiarostami, Ozu, Farhadi, Godzilla films, ‘50s Sci-fi and Ray Harryhausen for existing.

[curupiracue]

The Reporter’s Crows, and a Truth-seeking Deception

Sigh…

Couldn’t find anyone, huh…

“Hm. I wonder what Nim is doing?”

Though I wonder, I can likely guess… Probably “fooling around” (I mean, it’s studying, but even that is fooling around given the circumstances), and that is assuming he is awake already… Yeaahhh… Probably not.

I mean, it’s pretty handy for me that he is such a sleepyhead, even if I don’t sleep that much… But still.

Sigh…

Crááá!

“Huh? That a crow?”

Hmmm… A crow, huh... No way. I’m just overthinking things. ...But then again, when Nim was rambling about this city, didn’t he mention all the bird species living on the region? He didn’t mention crows at all, so unless this is someone’s pet...

“I mean, it’s my pet, you know.”

Oh, great.

“That has got to be rudest “hello” ever.” I say, turning around to face her.

“You live and travel alongside that sorry excuse for a human being. Thought you’d have heard worst by now.” Not towards me, at least. That’s what I think of saying, but she turns her attention to the crow and cuts me off “Oh hey there, Jesus! Any news?”

“Uh, you have a crow named Jesus?” some random guy passing by asked.

“Well, what would you name a crow?”

“Uh, I dunno’... Bob, birdie, blackey, Shadow’s Night?”

“You’re boring. Get out of my sight.” And so the man did, feeling humiliated and intimidated.

“Poor guy…”

“Pff. Anyway, it looks like Jesus has nothing to report… you can keep flying, dearie!” With that, the crow went off flying.

“...How many of those things do you have?”

“100. But I only treat 10 of them as pets, else, I would get saddened with their deaths.” I wonder if she meant more or less a 100, or precisely that number, but I quickly abandon the train of thought. I didn’t much care for that. More importantly…

“Well, I don’t really like seeing you here. If you and Nim meet, I’m afraid one or the other will end up dead.”

“Why! How insulting… I think it’s pretty clear who would die in such a confrontation...”

“Yeah, you.”

She glared at me. ...Best not to provoke her too much. She’s way stronger than I am, after all. Even if her power is directed less towards combat.

“Sigh, this isn’t to the point though. More importantly, though I don’t like seeing you here, I think you might actually be needed. We’re having trouble making any progress with so few clues to go by.”

“Well, that’s obvious. Even more obvious, is that, given some time, I could find the serial killer. Or, rather, I WILL find ‘em. Now the question is… If it is so, then why the hell should I ally myself with you guys?”

“Well, you showed up… you must have had a reason for that. Unless that reason was just mocking me.”

“Yup, that’s it actually~”

Now was my turn to glare at her.

“Hahahahah! Gee, chill. Even I’m not about to stand by and let such a fucked up murderer get away. And though I could do it by myself, I’d better get some allies. ...Even if these allies include an asshole.”

“Yeah. You’re birds of a feather.”

“...Correction. TWO assholes. I’ll be going now... Should anything come up I’ll contact you (alone, preferably hundreds of meters away from you-know-who)” She started walking away, but with with a certain air that convinced me she had more to say. Though I wasn’t sure if I should, I stayed put waiting.

Turns out, I was right.

“Oh yeah, and that guy who passed by and talked shit about Jesus totally wanted to bone you. You should go right ahead, since you and Mr. I-should-die-soon are not a thing yet, somehow. Ok, now really, be seeing you!”

...Totally not gonna’ do that NOW.

(sigh) I’d better get going. Nim couldn’t possibly be still sleeping. ...Maybe.

Well, I needed a walk to get my thoughts in order anyway, so…

Wims Fourth. A journalist who took on various cases and researched all sorts of weird incidents to try and get good material. She’s generally pretty neutral, which alongside with her unpleasant personality makes her hard to work with… but, those things are just minor impediments. If they weren’t, well, there wouldn’t be any sort of cooperation or friendship in this mental world. No, the real problem is her mutual grudge with Nim.

As for why they hate each other so much, well, that’s a long story. So much so, that I haven’t heard all of the details yet. Suffice it to say though, that although they’re both surprisingly reasonable for jerks, that reasonable goes out the window when they’re together. I wasn’t joking when I told her that one of them might do something they would regret when together.

But in spite of that, it’s good that she got involved. She’s clever, and her genius brings along some powerful utility constructions as well: apart from secret police crows, she can also summon film tape of a person’s memories and rapidly look through them. Since the construction needs to sneak into someone’s mind to take the information from there before copying it and bringing it to her, you can theoretically block it, but… it’s not like she’s erasing the memories or tampering with them in any way. She’s just sneaking inside and walking quietly, basically. Since it’s so sneaky, and simple enough she can focus on making it even more sneaky, you’d need to be much stronger than her to even detect it, let alone block it.

I don’t think there’s anyone who fits the bill. Not even Nim or that serial killer.

So, in other words, there’s a door right in front of me.

...Wait, I think I got lost in thought. Almost ran face-first on the door.

“Huh? Yo, Novalue, you here?” Nim “said” through a psychic message.

“Sure am” I send in response.

“...You didn’t ran face-first on the door, now, did you?”

“Nope.”

“Then, did you almost do that?”

“Of course not. I just got surprised because I suddenly remembered I wanted to buy some donuts, is all.” I lie spontaneously but carefully

Suddenly Nim opens the door.

...Holding a wallet.

“Oh, ok~ Sorry for thinking bad of you. Also, you left your wallet home, dumbass! Documents aren’t important because the police is made of weak shits, but what would you do if you wanted to buy something?!”

I take the wallet, and enter.

“Soooo~ anything to report?”

“I met Wims.”

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

Suddenly, I feel like grabbing a few knives and going all Adam Lanza. No, but it was guns… Nim, you FUCKING DUMBASS!

Anyway.

“Did you tell her to go die?”

“‘Afraid it would have the opposite effect.”

“Should have called me then~ I could be the Diomedes to your Nestor~”

“Do I really have to be Nestor…?”

“Huh? Well… Achilleus to Patroklus?”

“Wait, I’d be dead then.”

I clasped my hands and smiled with malice:

“Your corpse is worthy a rescue~”

“...So, anyway. About Wims...” Suddenly, I got in a bad mood.

“Yeah, yeah I know. Just don’t go about expecting too much, yes?” Novalue was about to speak, but I shot him a discreet glare, and complemented the “shut the fuck up” with additional flow of information “More pressingly, let’s go take a look at the police files again! There ought to be a few left, né?!”

“You just want to take a look at the files again, don’t you?”

“Nein...”

“(sigh) Fine, let’s go.”

We walked towards the precinct without a care in the world. But who needs care when you have style? Surely the passerby were gazing at our mutual beauty with much envy~!

Upon getting there though...

“Wait, you’re the ones from yester- yes, of course we can provide the files for usage. Also, Nim, you’re the greatest that has ever lived: I can’t even imagine how one might surpass your fundamentally lofty and superior existence.”

Novalue gave me a glare. Well, maybe not a glare, but a Novalue glare. Most people would think he was feeling sleepy or some shit

“Nim. That last part was unnecessary.”

“Whatever moooom!” I replied, waltzing and skipping towards our destination. I suddenly stopped, however, as if remembering something.

“Então tipo, hey, Novalue! Can you tipo, like, uh, go ahead and shtuff? I need to do something here first~” Novalue looked at me with distrust:

“You’re not gonna’ do something awful now, are you?”

“By the love of the T bearded idiot crow Novalue! Have some more trust in me, yeah?! I feel like a train going to a station full of passengers wantingtogotoanotheroneandexpecti-AHHHHHH” I inhale “Ugh, fuck, I couldn’t say all of it at once. POINT IS. You should trust me more!” I finish with a pout.

“That, however, doesn’t answer the question.”

“No, I’m not gonna do anything awful.”

That seemed to convince him. Hey, I wasn’t lying! I was about to do something justified, not awful.

“Heeey, Mr. Guaaaard~”

“Huh? I’m not a guard, technically, and I do have a name you kn-”

“Oh golly. The magic trick wore off, great. (sigh) Individuality is wasted on you, not gonna’ lie. I mean, the same can be said about me, but… Mmmm, I’m awesome and you’re not. So, whatever you. Is what I’d say, or just think. But, ya’ know. Uh, not sure how much you actually remember from yesterday, since I wasn’t the one on memory-wiping duty, buuuut. I, the great ME am still with my memories intact~”

“Memories…? Ah! Then, you must be the one alongside that fagg-”

Suddenly, his body feels light and his head is slammed at the table. Totally not by me.

“YOU DAMN PIECE OF SHIT! YOU MESSING WITH ME, HUH?! YOU’D BETTER START THANKING ME FOR SHOVING YOUR HEAD INTO THE SURFACE OF THIS TABLE, ‘CAUSE IF I HADN’T SHOVED YOUR HEAD INTO THE SURFACE OF THIS TABLE AND INSTEAD ALLOWED YOU TO FINISH THAT WORD, YOU’D BE FACING REPERCUSSIONS OF A WHOLE OTHER LEVEL!” I threw his body back into the chair “YOU DAMN WASTEFUL SACK OF MEAT!” I turn my gaze to a mug of coffee alongside it’s ingredients “Oooh, coffee.”

“Man, coffee sure is bitter. I can’t take mine without tons of sugar. Generally, if I am to make coffee, it’s for Novalue, so I’m more experienced with making black coffee, though. Here, lemme’ make some.” I add in enough coffee for it to become saturated “Ah, whooops. Maybe a teeeensy bit to much.” I throw the sugar at the floor “won’t be needing that. Let your family feast on it. Now, say “aaaaah!””

“aaaaah!? GuulphgMMMM!”

“Theeeeere weee... go.” with a jerk of my hand, I break the mug on his mug, cutting just the right amount of flesh, before pushing his chair to it’s limits and making him fall to the ground.

Pom.

“Ouch, that looked like it hurt. But see, you could have broken something. If we had met, say, an year back, you definitely would have. Which reminds me, I’ll be taking this key.” I pick up the key for the emergency exit “Wait, I didn’t beat you that bad… I’ll be leaving this key.” I put the key back on his pocket. Would be bad if someone got trapped and they needed it… Though that’s not the reason I did this, it’s just that I realized Novalue wouldn’t much mind this.

Speaking of him…

“Yo! Novalue, I’m coming~”

I open the door and find him looking through some documents. He then looks at me, seeming bored and closes the file.

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

Well, he sure took his time… can’t trust him to have kept that promise. Not that I much care. I close the file.

“It’s no use. Honestly, I’m thinking the killer must have some sort of connection to the police: sure, accessing the file wouldn’t be a problem regardless, but in order to be this through… if not a policeman, then maybe a lawyer or a judge.”

“Seems likely. I’m, uhh, guessing you didn’t find anything?”

“Nope.” I went to store the file away. “This whole trip is seeming useless to me… Maybe we should visit the regist-?”

“Hm? Whazis’?” Nim interrupts me, picking a file.

“What’s with that file?”

“Dunno’. Felt a little ajar to me, though I’m not sure why...” Hmm… though he alternates between not trusting it and boasting it to the point of unreasonability, Nim has a remarkable intuition. Might as well see where it leads. “Sebhbos Mmsseptnote? Ugh. Just looking at the photo disgusts me. Wonder if he was some jerk I met and forgot?”

“...I really doubt you’d forget something like this.”

“Tee hee~ Weeelll. Even for my most grand majesty, it could be possible… have I met him as a child, perchance?”

“Well, is it anything interesting?”

“Nah. He visited this city a long time ago. So not much is said. Doubt it’s him we’re looking for.”

“...If you say so… In that case, let’s look some more”

“Yes, captain!”

(Time passes...)

Well, today was an useless day. Every day felt like one, but this one actually was.

...And to top it all off, it seems Nim has no intention of letting me sleep.

“Wake up. Up up up.”

“Ugh...” I wanted to ask what time it was, but I had no energy to do it. Luckily, Nim was able to guess:

“4:14 and 57 seconds. Figured this time would be safest. Now get your head out of that pillow: I’m pretty damn cranky that I couldn’t have my intelligence sleep.”

“Mmm… safest?” I ask, still refusing to let go of the pillow.

“Yes. Thing is, that serial killer has been following us all day.”

“What…?” the news remove a bit of my sleepiness, but far from all of it; I am, however, now alert enough.

“It started with a bad feeling… so I decided to try searching using the Mental World, as well as paying close attention to everyone around us, though never actually intentionally doing it. And guess what, though I couldn’t see him well, nor properly identify him, there was always this sharply-dressed, thirty-something blonde man around, as well as a constant presence of a monstrous power that, although contained, I eventually identified as being his...”

“Before anything else… how powerful is he?”

“About… as powerful as me. ...P-Probably superior”

Huh… that makes him way more powerful than I am. Well, whatever. About Nim though...

“Don’t get anxious about it. First of all, there is an age discrepancy. Secondly, he probably doesn’t have much combat experience… or any sort of on-the-field experience with the Mental World. And finally… I’m here with you.”

He reacted simultaneously well and unwell, but didn’t complain. Probably because it was more of the former than the latter, and he was too sleepy for that.

“Well… So, about the plan.”

“Yes?”

“Basically...”

[ts-janus-rp-blog]

"Yes, but no where in the rules I established did it say that he needs to yell or hurt any one of you. He just needed to discipline you, and that can not involve hurting mentally or physically. Ah, a slap." Patton hummed softly, "A few slaps to make it worse. Hm... And he even hurt your baby... Who's to say he wont hurt someone else if given the chance, hm? You're not giving me a lot of reasons why I should allow this to happen, little one... I don't just answer wishes on the wim, I'm not a genie after all. If I allow this to happen to this demon than every other demon would want it for themselves to. I have to be fair. And I have to enforce my power."

Logan was silent, but he slowly moved over to Roman to try and help him out. But he blinked when he was spoken to and he looked up to virgil. his eyes widened at what he was hearing. "You...did? You couldn't stop thinking about me? I didn't think...anyone would have missed me that much. No! No, it wasn't your fault! I... I made you think that it was your fault, didn't I? I'm so so sorry... I'm sure you know it now but... It's not your fault and it never was. I faintly remember...before I died... I thought about you. And how I was going to get out of this alive so I can make it back to you. And when I died I remember waking up in the cage feeling hopeless. And sad. And I think it was cause of you... Cause there was a part of me that knew I would never get back to you. But... I'm glad we can be together again now."

"Ugh, you two are so love birds. I don't care about your love life. That's not why I'm here! Get over yourself already! Blah!" Patton shook his head with a grimace. "Yep, I took his memories. I wanted to see how Remus will react to meeting a look a like Roman... And having no idea it even is Roman!" Then he went silent as he watched Virgil interact with Remus and Roman. Then his eyes went around and he could see the many demons watching them from afar. Hm, this isn't good. He snapped his fingers again, and just like that the scenery changed around them. Instead of it being a dark gloomy city, now they were in a bright white of a room. A building... "There, that's better. The other demons were getting annoying."

Roman was still holding onto Remus... The unconscious Remus that still won't wake up. Oh, this isn't good. Roman continued to sob and cry. He yelped when he saw that they had left hell...and it would appear that they're in heaven now. But he didn't care. All he cares about was Remus. "Please... He treated me with kindness... Even when I got on his nerves... Even when I did something bad... He never hurt me! He never slapped me... He never punished me! Please... Please... Bring him back..." He had no idea what they were talking about either. And he didn't care. He looked up to Virgil and sniffled. But he slowly smiled and reaches out to pet Bowie. "This is Bowie? He... He's very cute... I'm happy that...you got to find him again..." He smiled, "Told you master...is good at hide and seek."

Bowie was still hiccuping, but he was slowly starting to calm down. He was still scared though. And he clung to Virgil like he was scared of him leaving again. He nuzzled into Virgil, but looked over to Roman. He gave a small squeak when he was petted. Then sniffled and turned back around to hug Virgil. Oh, baby...

Just then he snapped his fingers again. And when that happened the burning red around the wound that was making Remus skin boil...faded away. With that now gone Remus wound quickly was able to heal and close up. And...Remus suddenly drew in a loud gasp and wake up. "Virgil!! We gotta....go...?" He blinked and looked around, "Where..."

"Master!!!" Roman cried out and hugged his brother, "I was so scared that I was gonna lose you forever!! Don't do that again, please!!"

👹-Part 2-👹

TW: Religion. Death. Remus. Blood. Rape. Swearing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

↣P1, P2↢

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@ts-janus-rp-blog

{Previous Reply}

"Go ahead!! Use it! Do it!! I know you won't! And you know why?! Cause you don't have the balls to do it! You're too weak! You'll attack anyone that has hurt your friends, but you won't hurt someone who's now defenseless and on the ground! You won't stab someone in the back! So go ahead!" The father spread his legs, "Do it, bitch!" He grinned ear to ear, and with the blood and boiled skin still peeling off his face it looked like something straight out of a horror scene. "Show to your precious baby there that you really can be a demon! Show your baby your dark side, darling!"

"Virgil..." Remus lowered down Virgil's wrist, "Stop. He's baiting you to draw out more time. He's trying to buy himself time until his sky daddy arrives. We need to go. Leave him. Trust me... He won't be doing much of his work if he can't see. And if he can't do his work then he's useless in God's eyes anyways."

He smirked, "Why do you think I aimed directly for the eyes? I knew what I was doing."

Wait, did he just called Virgil by his name? Wow...

[remember-wim-faros]

Episode 7 – An Automatic Spark

When a tree falls in a forest and no one’s around to hear it

- It makes a sound!

Rod: [plays flute]

Deirdre: Wim Faros reaches out his hand from the past and invites us to let the world hear his sound again. Hello. I’m Deirdre Gardner in Rosemary Hills, and this is a very special episode of “It Makes a Sound”. Today… Rod? Rod? Hey Rod, Rod! Can you stop that?

Rod: Oh I’m so sorry, I just..

Deirdre: It’s, it’s distracting.

Rod: I found it over, I-I shouldn’t have picked it up.

Deirdre: That’s OK, that’s OK. Wim Faros reaches out like sinewy roots of a tree climbing up, bursting forth, gasping towards the surface. We break the earth to receive him. His spirit cannot be contained, it stretches out beyond the decades! We stretch too. Our fingers pulse towards him, anticipating his gifts. He hands us – a box full of treasures. Among them, a laminated sleeve containing a cardboard coaster marked with the date 6 21 92, scribbled upon it like hieroglyphs. The music of the Attic Tape!

Mom: She’s sort of funny.

Deirdre: And Mom, my Mom, remembers the songs. Somewhere they are perfectly archived in her brain. She’s our North Star. And it’s up to us to jog her memory. Right Mom?

[maraca, flute]

Deirdre: Welcome to today’s episode. Delicately placed on the table before us is that coaster, bearing the insignia of Rosemary Hills clubhouse: sprigs of rosemary hovering over hill on a golf course. Now it is covered with notations. His cheat sheet for the songs he played at Tricia Elwood’s 8th grade graduation party. Are they straightforward? For the non-genius, no.

Mom: Oh o!

Deirdre: Sometimes there are, are strings of lyrics knotted up around each other. Sometimes the letters are backwards or whole words are swapped. At times the chords seem to be sprinkled haphazardly next to the lyrics and tiny tiny letters. Luckily, listeners, I have created a system of organization, which will make it easier to see and untangle the information on the coaster. And cross-referenced it with other lyrics we have verified from the purple velveteen diary. Or the memory of Mom. Or the memory of of Deirdre Gardner. Borrowing techniques of historians before me I have here, on a large chalkboard on wheels, all the information we have so far charted onto a graph. And I have also been using my piano to test out some of these chords. Now now I admit that’s a somewhat limited test but I-I’ve been trying to figure them out by sound.

Rod: You did a lot of work!

Deirdre: Yes. Thankfully with me today to aide us in our quest is another special guest: Rod Reeder. Mom’s part-time nurse and an actual amateur musician.

Rod: It’s very detailed, it’s like a hospital chart, but different. You have good handwriting.

Deirdre: Oh thank you. Listeners, as Rod can see, I have attempted to separate out lyrics one line at a time. And these arrows see Rod? In a separate colored chalk point to the chords that most likely go with each lyrical line.

Rod: And what’s this square mean down here with the big question mark?

Deirdre: Ooh that’s, well that’s for the big unknowns. For instance um, track number 6, “Star 69”. We don’t seem to have lyrics to that at all. Also um, you know, things like the Deirdre Gardner connection, the the DGC as I’ve written here. Um, why was a newspaper clipping containing my picture in the time capsule? How does this affect the music? Things like that, big unknowns.

Mom: Who knows!

Deirdre: So today, our goal is to take the information, decipher it from the coaster, to restore the songs on the cassette tape recording of Wim Faros’ first concert, played here on the golf course in 1992. The cassette tape lost, found and, well currently inaccessible due to an unforeseen technical malfunction. Rod and I are ready. We are caffeinated, right? Right Rod, are we?

Rod: Yes, yes.

Deirdre: We have our coffee.

Rod: Mm hm.

Deirdre: Grab your coffee, listeners. Let’s go.

Rod: OK, you cozy, Mrs G?

Mom: Yes, thank you.

Deirdre: So Rod, looking at the chalk board..

Rod: You want a pillow?

Mom: Maybe just a pillow.

Rod: Yeah, sure.

Deirdre: Rod, oh sorry, when you’re done over there.

Rod: No we’re, were fine.

Deirdre: Rod, looking up here. Now is there anything that jumps out to you as an easily identifiable melodic sequence?

Rod: You sure you’re cozy? OK. Oh uh uh, well maybe, no I mean we have the chords and that’s super but it’s hard to know what, you know, the rhythm and the style of the line is.

Deirdre: Well that’s OK. Um, as someone once said, “begin anywhere”.

Rod: OK. Um, how about right here? [plays chord]

Deirdre: Mmm uh actually, let’s begin here. See on the coaster, these notes that run along the top edge? Here they are written out on the board. Do you see? So now, let’s cross-reference that with what is, is written here on the left hand edge. I think they might match, I’ve been working on it. Am I right that the first chord is kind of like uh uuh this? [plays chord]

Rod: Yeah, sure.

Deirdre: Yeah.

Rod: Uh huh.

Deirdre: So it’s like, [plays and reads] “Round in a cul-de-sac, one way out turn back. Either way my life is stun..ted by this one-way dead end track. Track.” This lyric is from his song titled “Cul-de-Sac”, now that’s track number 7 on the Attic Tape.

Rod: Yeah. Um here let me just, look at that..

Deirdre: Oh, OK.

Rod: Excuse me.

Deirdre: Yeah.

Rod: [plays chords fast]

Deirdre: Wow, Rod OK. Um, that’s very good, how do I do that? Well wait slower slower slower, it’s slower than that.

Rod: Oh sorry. [plays chords slower]

Deirdre: Oh, oh yes! That’s right, that’s right! Now wait, show me how to do that.

Rod: Yeah just here, um..

Deirdre: [plays chords] OK.. and, I’m doing! OK, so it was like… [sings] “Round in a cul-de-sac, one way out”, is that the tune?

Rod: Yeah, sure sounds great.

Deirdre: Yeah?

Rod: Yeah. Um, it sounds like the, there’s a, you have to go back to this chord here.

Deirdre: [plays chord] OK.

Rod: Yeah. But..

Deirdre: OK, so I do this?

Rod: Uh huh. So you’re singing that…

Mom: Ooh yes!

Rod: [sings] “Round in a cul-de-sac”…

Deirdre: [plays and sings] “Round in a cul-de-sac, one way out turn back. Either way, my life is stunted by this one-way dead end track.”

Mom: Ooh yes, yes! So that is the best (--) [0: 09:29].

Rod: You like it, Mrs G?

Deirdre: Listeners, listeners! Mom lights up as we play this part of the song. Mom, can you help me sing? What comes after that part?

Rod: OK, let’s start again.

Deirdre: OK. [chuckles]

Rod and Deirdre: [sing the same bit again]

Mom: [sings in different rhythm] That is (nicey icy man), he has a fork.

Deirdre: She remembered all of his other songs, she had it exactly. It was like she was present with Wim Faros in 1992.

Rod: Yeah well, sure music is amazing. For a patient like Mrs G singing and rhythm playing, these things don’t need a lot of mental processing but the rhythmic cues she hears get the brain’s motor going anyway. So tunes and rhythms and rhymes she knew a long time ago can remain intact in the brain, no matter what. An automatic spark.

Mom: Spark!

Deirdre: Listener, an automatic spark! Well that’s why she can recite some poems and speeches from her acting days, huh? OK so, so we have to accurately find, like the exact rhythm and tune to trigger her memory. We just need to get it right and then she’ll be with us.

Rod: Well, you know sometimes, no matter what music is like, it’s good. Helps her with her mood, can stimulate or sedate. It’s great for agitation management.

Deirdre: Well Mom knew that music though. She was there at the clubhouse. Plus that cassette was like all I played for a year. Let’s try it again, I think we could…

Rod and Deirdre: [play and sing]

Mom: [sings in a different rhythm]

[thumping on the roof]

Mom: The damn birds are after us, from inside the house. There, squawwwk!

Cody: Hi, what’s up?

Deirdre: Oh Cody, how did you..?

Cody: Well I rang the doorbell but nobody came and then I-I tried the door and the door was open so I just came in. I was supposed to go Tommy (Niehart’s) house after school, but I told Tommy that we should come here and, and Tommy said that he would never come here after what you did to his property, and I said that and he he said that I should be careful too, and that I I should watch out in case you got mad and I told him to shut up. I said actually I wanna play here instead of with him, so that’s why I came here and I texted my Mom that I am coming here and um that that you will watch me, and she said fine and thanks because she has to work for a few more hours and she always says that, I’m not stimulated enough and I told her that, I told her that you guys are really super s-stimulating and I wanna help find Wim Faros and I don’t care what you did to Tommy (Niehart).

Deirdre: Oh. Well I appreciate that Cody, um… You know, I’m glad you came over. We’re working on the songs.

Cody: [gasps] Mom: What did you do?

Rod: Yeah Deirdre, what did you do to Tommy (Niehart)?

Deirdre: Oh I uh, it’s nothing, I-I broke his iPhone.

Cody: She threw it out the window she was, she was our substitute teacher and Tommy was playing with his iPhone during class and she tossed it out the window, we heard it go cra-a-ack!

Deirdre: Yeah but it’s, it’s all fine. I mean it’s all been taken care of. Um Cody, you know it’s good that you’re here, it’s good that you’re here we’ll we’ll need someone to document our work today.

Cody: I could do that, yeah!

Deirdre: Um yes, and what lyrics and chords go together for each song. What worked and what didn’t.

Cody: OK.

Deirdre: Ladies and gentlemen, another special guest, a surprise special guest on today’s show: Cody Elwood!

Cody: …-Nowakowsky.

Deirdre: Research assistant. He will take notes.

Cody: Uh, on my iPhone?

Deirdre: No. We’re noting all of our findings on the blackboard, with the colored chalk. Here you go.

Cody: I never used chalk.

Rod: Well that’s sad.

Mom: You love chocolate pancakes.

Deirdre: That’s right Mom. Listeners, we will come back to track number 7, “Cul-de-Sac”, but for now, let’s move on to a different song to see if Mom has a more specific response. She’s kind of like a Ouija board.

Cody: I wanna look! Ahem. Oh listeners, I’m researching. I like this one with the exclamation points. It says “Help! I’ve fallen and I can’t get uuuuup!”

Mom: (-) [0:14:30] the (clapper).

Rod: Classic. [chuckles]

Deirdre: Yes Mom that’s right [chuckles], that was the commercial. But then there was Wim Faros’ song, which was a piercing critique of capitalism.

Cody: What’s capitalism?

Rod: Uh, take your iPhone for example.

Deirdre: Uh we’ll explain later Cody, OK?

Cody: [whispers] OK.

Rod: Here are the chords that you’ve written next to it. Is this (-) [0: 14:54]?

Deirdre: Let’s hear.

Rod: [plays fast country style music]

Deirdre: Um no, no no no. That sounds so folksy, it’s way edgier, it’s more intense. Um, I wonder could you maybe try it on the keyboard?

Rod: Sure.

Deirdre: I mean it was a controversial song, you see. Um, it was really powerful. It was a stunning choice to play at Tricia’s 8th grade graduation party, really. It sent a message. I can almost feel the social tension of that moment. So it was more dissonant, it was more like [hums] rah nah, bah nah, raah, na na any, rawr…

Rod: [plays the chords differently]

Deirdre: Yeah. Are those the same chords? That sounds so different, good! Yes, it was like [hums], yeah. Like “Help! I can’t get up, I’ve fallen!” and then like “frozen dinners, Grim Reaper… beepers” and help. “Help!”

Mom: (--) [0:16:03]..

Deirdre: “Help I can’t get up! I’ve fallen!”

Mom: (I fall)…

Deirdre: “Grim Reaper, beepers… peepers”.

Mom: [sings indistinctly]

Deirdre: Help! I can’t get up, I’ve fallen, help! Call the Reaper with your beeper.

Mom, Cody, Rod: [singing backing vocals]

Deirdre: (Creepy) he-e-elp, (and then it’s like) frozen dinners..

Mom, Cody: The clapper! Clap on, clap on!

Rod: Clap on, clap on! (--)!

Cody: Clap on…

Deirdre: Reaper, beepers…

Cody: Capitalism!

Mom, Rod, Cody: Clap on, clap on..

Mom: Clap on, the clapper!

Deirdre: Yes Mom, that was the commercial, that’s the commercial guys. Mom, what about Wim Faros’ protest song? Do you remember? You used to like thump your mop on the floor when I’d sing it?

Cody: Thump!

Deirdre: Remember, in rhythm, it was like… Help, boom boom! Frozen dinners…

Rod: Yeah!

Deirdre: Grim Reaper, beepers, beepers…

Cody: Oh, oops! Sorry!

Mom: (--) [0:17:09 overlapping speech]

Deirdre: Oh, oh no, save the coaster!

Cody: Sorry! Sorry! [whispers] Sorry.

Deirdre: Is the coaster OK?

Cody: I’m sorry.

Deirdre: It’s OK, it’s OK look it’s fine.

Rod: I got it, I got it. Hmm. I’ll grab some paper towels.

Deirdre: OK.

Mom: Oh no, (-)!

Deirdre: It’s OK Mom, it’s just a little coffee. Easy.

Mom: What a mess!

Cody: I can clean it, it was an accident.

Deirdre: The coaster’s fine, Cody, so it’s OK. Uh, right Mom? Just a litte spil, an accident.

Mom: I’m on it!

Deirdre: Hold on Mom, we’ll clean it up in a second, OK? Yeah don’t, don’t worry yourself. I OK, I think this is all too confusing though. Um Mom, look up look up here with me. Let’s pick another song to work on.

Rod: Yeah, here we go.

Mom: Windex!

Rod: I brought Pinesol.

Deirdre: Oh, we don’t need that, it’s just coffee.

Rod: I know but you know, she’s a pro. She likes to spray. Here Mrs. G, I’ll get the floor, you get the table, what do you say?

Mom: Aye aye, put a cap on it, my captain. [spraying noises]

Deirdre: Thank you everybody. OK, that’s very good. [spraying noises] OK, that’s very clean now Mom, thank you. You wanna keep wiping the table? That’s OK.

Mom: [hums]

Deirdre: OK, yeah but sit down here, get comfy while you wipe, there you go. OK Rod and Cody, let’s go back to the chalkboard. Rosemary Hills, I’d like to draw your attention to what was number 9 on the cassette tape, “Youth Grows Old”. Cody, see those lyrics in pink up there?

Cody: Yes.

Deirdre: “You-you-youth”?

Cody: Yes, here. “You”… ha, there’s a lot of You’s. “You you you you you you you-th grows old in Rosemary Hills. Green grass will grow and grow with chemicals”.

Deirdre: Good, that’s right. OK. Now Rod, look to those chords in pink there OK, could you play them for us?

Rod: [plays chord]

Deirdre: Fabulous. And I will add piano now, if you can just show me where to put my fingers.

Rod: (That’s right).

Deirdre: Is that right? OK that’s right, so.. [plays chords] And then (-) [0:19:02] again. Ok so it goes like this. [plays and sings] You-you-you-you-you-you-you-youth grows old in Rosemary Hills.

Rod: [joins in]

Cody: [joins in]

Deirdre: Oh yes, that sounds great! Yeah that’s how it went, it was like a cascade, repetitive, experimental. Moody. You-you-you-you-you-you-youth grows old in Rosemary Hills. That’s right Mom, that’s right!

Mom: You-you-you-you-you-you-youth grows old in Rosemary Hills.

Rod: Yes, see that sounds good.

Mom: You’re so aloooooone, so alone in Rosemary Hills.

Deirdre: Good Mom, but different lyrics, OK? So, now it goes like this: Green grass will grow and grow and grow and grow. [others join in] Green grass will grow and grow and grow and grow.

Mom: You-you-you-you-you-you-you-you, yeah. You’re se alooooone, [Cody joins in] so alone in Rosemary Hills.

Rod: Green grass will grow and grow and grow and grow…

Cody: Rosemary Hills..

Mom: You-you-you-you-you-you-you in Rosemary Hills. I’m so alooooone…

Rod: Green will grow and grow and grow and grow…

Mom: So alone in Rosemary Hills.

Rod: Green will grow and grow and grow and grow.

Mom: The party is over! We have to go home. Don’t cry Deirdre! All clean.

Deirdre: That was so pretty, Mom.

Rod: Beautiful, Mrs. Gardner.

Deirdre: It was sad. Cody: I like your voice.

Deirdre: That isn’t the way the song went, Mom. But is that the way you feel right now?

Mom: I feel pretty and sad.

Deirdre: You’re so pretty, Mom. I’m sorry you’re sad. I understand.

Rod: The music, it-it sometimes brings out the emotion from its earliest associations.

Cody: Was your Mom at my Mom’s party too?

Deirdre: Yeah she was there, but not as a guest. Mom was the cleaning lady at the clubhouse, she was working that night.

Cody: I don’t like cleaning.

Mom: Amen, honeybunny!

Deirdre: Mom. Tricia Elwood’s party. Wim Faros in concert. What was it like that night?

Mom: Fahrenheit…

Deirdre: Wim Faros.

Cody: Wim Faaros, ahh!

Mom: You like to go to the pie in the sky with, with Fahrenheit.

Deirdre: That’s a good way of putting actually. It was the first time I felt like that.

Mom: [sings gleefully] Loving that’s awful, it’s awful. You are awful. How awful, oh no!

Deirdre: I think she means unrequited admiration can be difficult.

Mom: Deirdre and Wim sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G! Deirdre and Wim sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-1.

Rod: It’s OK, Mrs. G.

Deirdre: Wait, she’s remembering the end of the party. I-I was alone in the conference room, listening to Wim Faros. And everybody else had gone outside, but Wim played on, and I was sitting in the back of the room with my cassette recorder. Kaylene Becker came in to get a sl bracelet that she left on the chair. She started yelling that, over the music. Deirdre and Wim sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!

Mom and Cody: Deirdre and Wim sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G! [repeated several times]

Deirdre: Oh god, I was mortified! And then Wim stopped playing suddenly, like a spell was broken. Kaylene’s voice was the only one in the room. Wim Faros looked at me, and and the look on his face was, was so vulnerable like, like he had just emerged from a cocoon. He held my gaze for what seemed to be like an hour and then, and then he, he turned away. And walked to the table behind him and opened up a Crystal Pepsi. And I ran out of the room to find my Mom.

Mom: Pepsi-daisy.

Deirdre: You could hear all of that on the tape. I never erased that part. I could never erase any of it.

Mom: Kaylene Becker is a spoiled fucker duck!

Deirdre: Truer words were never spoken, listeners.

Cody: She said the F word!

Rod: She does sometimes. She’s allowed.

Cody: Cool!

Deirdre: Rod, don’t you think that [scoffs] this is sense memory? The Pinesol, the cleaning, the melody, that made her remember Kaylene Becker, and then I remembered Kaylene Becker, and she almost remembered the song. But she felt the emotion, it brought her back in some ways to that time. But if, if she was there, in that familiar place. Mom, we have to go back to the clubhouse! People of Rosemary Hills, I know how we can get all of the songs back. If we go to the location, if we do this, where it happened, we can recreate the environment of Tricia’s party! We’ll set the stage. Um, the place, the air, the smells, and then we’ll get the sounds. We’ll summon them, so that Mom and I can remember.

Rod: But the clubhouse, how can you get in, isn’t it private property?

Deirdre: Well I mean we could literally just walk in. Nobody’s paying any attention to Rosemary Hills golf course community, if you haven’t noticed. I assure you guys, nobody in a million years would notice us.

Cody: But it’s haunted.

Deirdre: Oh Cody, no! It’s just old and abandoned, and places like that can always seem scary, but it’s not scary. It’s just, well old and abandoned.

Cody: But when Ralphie ran away, I had to go over there and find him and I heard things.

Deirdre: I’m sure, I’m sure. The wind on those shattered windows is probably really loud. There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s really, it’s just a big old fancy house, Cody. You’ll see.

Mom: Fancy birds!

Cody: But they’re gonna tear it down.

Deirdre: What do you mean?

Cody: They’re tearing it down, they’re gonna build a cemetery and then it’s gonna be even scarier.

Deirdre: Who’s they?

Cody: I dunno, my Mom said.

Rod: The local government, I guess?

Deirdre: They can’t tear it down, it’s a historical landmark!

Rod: Really?

Deirdre: Well, it should be.

Mom: Uh oh!

Rod: Where are you going, Mrs. G?

Mom: Uh oh, toast!

Rod: You hungry?

Mom: You are toast!

Rod: [chuckles] Wait for me, I’m coming. You know I like making toast. I’ll just, I’ll just go with her.

Deirdre: Ladies and gentlemen, we have a call to action. And I have a plan. Together, we have been getting closer and closer to fully restoring the music of Wim Faros. I mean, from the outset of our journey, we have been working so hard on remembering how to remember, haven’t we?

Cody: Yes.

Deirdre: Yes. Yes! And figuring out how to unpack the Attic…

Cody: Yes. Yes.

Deirdre: Yes. Wim Faros, through his time capsule, gave us a bridge from the past to the present.

Cody: Bridge!

Deirdre: He is telling us to walk that bridge, he is showing us how. Don’t you see? He is telling us, he is telling us to go to the clubhouse! I know that will work. I am certain that if we enter into the hallowed grounds where the concert was on June 21, 1992, into that convertible conference room where Wim Faros himself took the stage for the Elwood commencement. We will be able to complete the songs. I feel it.

Cody: I feel it too.

Deirdre: I feel it!

Cody: I feel it too, Deirdre!

Deirdre: OK! So on the next episode of “It Makes a Sound”, join us and these hills will come alive with the sound of music once more!

Cody: It’s aliiiiiive! Huh! Can I do the chime?

Deirdre: Yes you can!

Cody: [plays chime]

“It Makes a Sound” is created and written by Jacquelyn Landgraf. Co-directed by Jacquelyn Landgraf and Anya Saffir. Original music composed by Nate Weida, with lyrics by Nate Weida and Jacquelyn Landgraf. Sound designed and mixed by me, Vincent Cacchione. With Jacquelyn Landgraf as Deirdre Gardner, Annie Golden as Deirdre’s Mom, Nate Weida as Rod Reeder and Melissa Mahoney as Cody Elwood.

“It Makes a Sound” is a Night Vale presents production. For more information on this show, to buy merch and to learn about our other Night Vale podcasts, go to nightvalepresents.com. You can follow “It Makes a Sound” on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and Tumblr. And you can support the show by writing a review on iTunes. We’d really appreciate it.

Thank you for listening. Right now, a bottle of Crystal Pepsi is listed at 1,000 dollars on eBay, but slap bracelets are around 5 bucks. We’ll meet again in January. All of us at “It Makes a Sound” wish you a memorable end to 2017. And we hope you’ll remember to give a little toast to Wim Faros.