#Delia york

[tossacointoyourhotmess]

THE UNHOLY FAMILY in THE OMEN FRANCHISE (1976 -)

Margaret Daino, Carlita Scianna, Layla Daino, Damien Thorn, Delia York, and Alexander York

[omenfan666]

Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is six hundred and sixty-six.

LMAO, Sam Neill's mark looks so fake.

Also, the new ones look to be sinking instead of protruding out.

[omenfan666]

His soul re-incarnated, so I guess??

This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send the situation (in which you want to see a Blorbo) to our inbox and we’ll make a poll for you where people can vote if they think their Blorbos would survive said situation.

[madhousedarry]

The Omen: Legacy of Lunacy | Chapter 21

Meanwhile, the girl managed to enter the house and go to the kitchen - it looks like while Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" was sleeping in his bed, Molly managed not only to frolic with his older brother, but also to study the layout of the house.

At least she found the toilet the first time, which she immediately entered and locked with the latch.

For obvious reasons, there was no point in the boy trying to spy on the guests, so he simply went into his brother's room to inform him that Miss Scallop's protegee had gotten some fresh air and returned to their home.

Upon entering Ryan's room, Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" noticed that he was sitting by the window with his back to the door.

"Brother!" the boy shouted. "I brought you news!"

"Well, what's going on?" Ryan muttered discontentedly, turning slightly towards his brother.

"Molly's back!" his brother proudly informed him in the tone children use when telling their parents about their success at school.

"Well, screw it," his older brother responded indifferently. It was obvious that this topic had long since lost all interest for him.

"She's in the toilet now," Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" continued in a solemn TV presenter's voice. "She'll come out soon, uh-uh, you know! And then we'll fuck her right here! Right now! You'll see!"

Oh, the boy shouldn't have said such words to his assexual brother!

Hearing these words, Ryan seemed to break loose from his chain - he jumped up from his chair like a tiger and in one leap found himself next to his brother; grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, he covered the boy's mouth with his other hand.

After this non-violent act, the young man turned his brother to face the exit of his room and gave him a farewell kick in the ass with his knee.

"Don't talk to me about this, you asshole!" his older brother's angry words reached his ears.

The boy stood motionless in the middle of the hallway for a moment, looking at Ryan's door slamming shut in front of him. Then the child's face twisted into a grimace of hatred for the whole world and his older brother in particular.

Suddenly, footsteps were heard behind him, and the boy turned around reflexively. As expected, it was Molly. Seeing his piercing gaze, she stopped in front of him, about twenty-five paces away.

The boy felt an irresistible desire to rush towards her and grab all the accessible parts of the girl's body with his hands… But instead of all of the above, the following happened - the girl suddenly came close to Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" and tried to embrace him, which the boy did not expect from her.

"My poor little thing," Molly cooed, looking at the hunted boy.

Her gentle voice suddenly brought back memories of his long-lost mother. Succumbing to the mood, Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" suddenly burst into tears and went to the girl's arms himself.

The latter picked up the crying eight-year-old boy with her tender hands and pressed him to her chest.

And for the first time in all the time he'd seen women (whether they were real or drawn), Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" didn't want to immediately pull the girl's clothes off and start groping her tits.

Instead of this vile desire, he was overcome by a feeling of shame and remorse mixed with a feeling of loneliness.

"Don't cry, baby, I'll try to make sure everything is okay with you," Molly continued to coo, and Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" had already forgotten that she had a crocodile face - after all, all people have their own shortcomings: who's to blame if they were born that way?

It could be said that for the first time since his mother died (and the latter died almost immediately after she gave birth to him), Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" saw in a woman not an object for jerking off, but a person with a heart of gold.

And, shedding tears in the arms of a completely unfamiliar twenty-two-year-old girl, the boy felt himself truly defenseless and in need of care from loving people. And there was no doubt that Molly loved him. And it was not a matter of pedophilia at all - it was just a maternal instinct that for no apparent reason prevailed in her nature among strangers.

And what about Ryan? The asexual drug addict who had no sexual attraction to anyone was still of interest to Miss Scallop's protegee. Apparently, she thought that Ryan's reluctance to show her his mighty phallus was just a manifestation of shyness, and she hoped to get her own in the future.

But for now, this question should be postponed until the evening - after all, Molly needed to get used to the house and decide what role she would need to play during the indefinite period of time that she would be here.

So, after wiping Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert's" snot, the girl got up and went to the bathroom to tidy herself up, while the boy, recovering from a session of crying and hugging, walked into his room with a bad head and immediately fell on the bed - not to start jerking off to the image of lady Vieira, but only to calm his nerves, forgetting himself in a half-sleep. Soon he drowned in sleep.

Waking up the next day, the boy noticed something strange in the window - a human figure in a red shirt and jeans. Without getting out of bed, Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" reached for his phone to capture the wonder on his crappy (only two megapixels) camera, but the mysterious man disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared.

Then the boy decided to call Miss Scallop - after all, it was his duty to report to her about the fate of her protegee, who had been staying in his and Ryan's house since yesterday.

Scrolling through his WhoreApp in search of the old cow's contact, Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" noticed with horror that, at least in the avatar, Miss Scallop looked like a spitting image of Molly the Slut - of course, adjusted for age.

The boy could have sworn that the latter was, if not the daughter, then a very close relative of the old cunt, for they both had the same crocodile faces and long hair - the differences mainly being that while Miss Scallop wore her hair in one braid, lady Vieira let it down as she pleased.

Well, and it was not worth losing sight of the fact that if the old cow's face was eaten away by wrinkles and alcohol, then, although ugly, Molly's still blooming face left no doubt that the latter was twenty years younger than the former.

Regardless, Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" was at a loss as to what the connection was between a twenty-two year old slut and a forty-two year old fucked up cunt.

Their last names were too different to be able to confirm their family ties. Although, who knows, as is customary with cousins and second cousins… In any case, the boy was already dialing Miss Scallop's number in anticipation of asking her the question that was gnawing at him.

His hopes were justified: the old cunt immediately picked up the phone and, as they say, from the very beginning, began bombarding the little boy with questions on such interesting topics as cosmetics and hygiene of her protegee.

Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" had a hard time keeping himself from yelling at the old woman and telling her to shut up, but there's a limit to everything - when Miss Scallop started asking how many pads lady Vieira had in her purse and whether she should order more by mail, he clutched the phone with both hands and, trying not to curse, shouted into the receiver:

"Dear Miss Scallop! For any questions about lady Vieira's problems, please contact my older brother! I'm too young to understand such things!"

"It's never too late to learn, kid!" the old woman answered him cheerfully and immediately burst into causeless laughter.

The boy took advantage of his opponent's momentary weakness and finally used his weapon:

"Miss Scallop, so who is lady Vieira to you that you are so worried about her?"

Having blurted out these words, the boy held his breath. Would this old crab answer him or not? Would she ignore his question or start scolding him? However, he could not have expected what followed next.

When the meaning of his words reached his interlocutor, she immediately stopped laughing and said in a strange, conspiratorial tone:

"My dear Robert," she always called the boy that when she wanted to teach him politeness, "the answer to that question is clear to me today… and a select few," she added after a moment's pause. "I… That is, we don't want this to become public knowledge."

"But Miss Scallop!" the boy became capricious. "Tell me, is it hard to say?"

"It's NOT hard to say," the old cow chuckled, "but dealing with the consequences of an information leak will be beyond the power of even those like…"

Apparently realizing that she was about to blurt out something unnecessary, Miss Scallop made a strange, muffled sound and pressed the call cancel button.

It is clear that the boy could not see this, but you yourself should understand that when the call window suddenly disappears from the screen of your phone, it means that the subscriber has ended the connection with you!

In any case, Miss Scallop avoided answering what seemed to be a very simple question, which caused little Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert"'s heart to be filled with an incomprehensible anxiety - as if the old crab had kept information from the boy about something that could at any moment destroy the usual life of an eight-year-old wanker.

At least he felt a strange sensation, as if someone had started pressing on the back of his head, and he immediately threw the silent phone onto the bed and grabbed his head with both hands.

Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" rummaged through his short-cropped black hair, trying to shake off the stupor that had suddenly overtaken him, but he was not really successful - the result of all this was that his usually neatly styled hair had taken on a crazy look that could best be described in the words of the great English writer Pelham Grenville Wodehouse - "Did the cat drag you in from the garbage heap?"

It goes without saying that there was no way that a young The Omen Ican dancer could have read The Mating Season at the age of eight, and it is not a fact that even as an adult he would have become interested in English literature of the mid-twentieth century.

But he realized something else - he had just experienced the same thing that happened to the main character of the film about the dead little girl from the well! "The Ring"!

Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert", just like Kazuyuki Asakawa (renamed by stupid The Omen Icans to Rachel Keller) picked up the phone and heard… But that's the point, he didn't hear anything!

If the film had the sacramental phrase "seven days!", then in the case of Miss Scallop's call the boy himself was asking to learn something that the latter flatly refused to tell him! In other words, it was not the presence of certain words, but on the contrary their absence - that's what gave the horror to this whole crazy story!

Poor Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" sat on his bed, legs tucked under him like a Turk, staring straight ahead. With his entire atrophied brain he sensed the coming fuck-up, but what kind of fuck-up it would be and when it would happen - he had no answers to these questions.

All he knew was that the secret of Miss Scallop and lady Vieira's affair was so deep that its revelation - or concealment? - might be the last thing that lay ahead for him.

These dark and childishly complex thoughts were interrupted by the creaking of the door. The boy raised his head and stared blankly at his older brother, who, leaning his right hand on the door frame, looked at Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" with a smile on his lips.

For a few seconds the brothers looked at each other with completely different feelings, until the elder one broke the silence with a question that was appropriate in this situation:

"Do you want to eat?"

The everyday nature of these words seemed strangely absurd to the boy who was going through a difficult morning, but the latter found the strength to act like a true Jew - to answer a question with a question.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"What, you can't?" Ryan asked reasonably, unaware that he was taking the exchange of questions to the nth degree. "You look like…"

"Like a cat dragged me from the garbage dump?" said Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert", simultaneously leading the dialogue to a dead end and quoting an English classic, completely unexpectedly for himself.

"I wanted to say it was like you were dug out of a buried subway, but your comparison would work too. What happened to you?"

The boy tiredly touched his forehead with his palm.

"Brother," he answered with unexpected sentimentality, "they tried to drag me to hell."

"And I thought," Ryan interrupted, "that hell was the only place you could go to even when you were walking home, not suspecting anything. So what's it like in hell?"

"I haven't been to hell, you dumb asshole!" Ryan's joking tone was driving the boy crazy. "I want to tell you a scary story!"

"As scary as "The Omen" movie, or even scarier?"

"Fuck, you're annoying!" Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" lost his temper. "Are you going to stop joking or not?"

"Will you stop swearing, you little brat?" his older brother answered him in the same rude tone. "Molly was buzzing my ears at breakfast today about how you, at eight years old, swear like a cabby and that it needs to be done immediately…"

The boy didn't hear the rest of the words - grabbing his clothes from the chair in an armful, he ran like a bullet into the corridor and, diving into the bathroom, locked the door.

However, hearing a barely suppressed giggle behind him, he immediately turned around with his heart pounding furiously - it turned out that at that very second Molly was in the bath, who - just think! - was shaving her armpits!!!

The boy had never known about such a hygienic procedure among girls, so his surprise was not surprising, forgive the tautology.

He stood silently right in front of lady Vieira, holding a shirt and shorts in his hands, while the crocodile-faced, heart-of-gold lady stood in front of the mirror, carefully swiping a razor under her armpit.

Although she had her back to the boy, they both saw each other's faces in the mirror, and so they both felt some discomfort - at least Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert", as for Molly, it seemed that she only enjoyed the presence of a stranger during her hygiene procedures.

"You're a curious one, I see," lady Vieira chuckled, not taking her eyes off the boy's surprised face reflected in the mirror. "You came to see me shave my armpits. I bet you'd like to see me change my pads, too, huh, my little pervert?" With these words, she burst into laughter."

The boy didn't know what to do with himself, but he knew one thing for sure - it was better to be in the company of this idiot with her head in the air than next to Ryan, who would only like to lecture his little brother.

Besides, there was something, to put it mildly, intimate about this situation…

"I know what you're thinking, vulgarian," Molly's voice suddenly rang out. "But don't even hope for that - I change my pads in the toilet, and I always lock myself in there! Besides," she continued, still running the razor under her armpit, "I'm not such a fool as to get caught for corruption of minors."

"Uh-uh…" mumbled Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert", his hands sweating and almost soaking the clothes he continued to hold in his arms.

"So go ahead and have a good time, boy," said lady Vieira, and to the boy's surprise, she put the razor on the sink and, opening the door, gently pushed him in the shoulder, thus pushing him out into the corridor.

The boy had no choice but to follow the advice of the older woman and go ahead, to the kitchen, where Ryan was already waiting for him, who, it seemed, still needed to speak out after the embarrassment that had happened a few minutes ago between him and his younger brother - otherwise, how else to explain the fact that, upon seeing Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" enter the kitchen, he immediately began to think out loud about the peculiarities of puberty in boys of primary school age?!

However, to be honest, this conversation was of little interest to the little The Omen Ican imp. His imagination was much more struck by a large plate containing sliced tomatoes mixed with pieces of ham and pickles, and all this splendor was covered with olive oil instead of the mayonnaise that the boy had grown tired of.

"Is this all for me?" the boy asked.

"I think that it's all for you…" Ryan answered in a mysterious tone, finally stopping his moralizing conversations.

"What about lady Vieira?" Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" asked hopefully, looking up at his older brother with his big chocolate colored eyes.

"She won't mind if you finish the whole plate," said Ryan, who hadn't quite emerged from his role as mentor. "However, I hope you won't eat it all in one sitting? You know it's unhealthy!"

"I can't eat that much!" the boy said with annoyance. "Maybe you'll join me?"

"I'll help you," Ryan answered strangely, "I'll sit across from you and make sure you don't overeat. Got it?"

Frankly speaking, the boy did not understand a word of what his older brother said to him, but in order not to run into a conflict, he silently nodded. The last action caused a satisfied smile to appear on the young man's lips.

"Well, you see!" he said. "Now come here…"

Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" didn't need to be asked twice - he immediately walked up to the table and sat down in his place.

"That's it, good," Ryan nodded in satisfaction. "Keep it up!"

There was something odd about the older brother's preoccupation with the little boy's food, but the little boy couldn't care less - which couldn't be said about the salad that Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" pounced on the minute he sat down at the table. And if Ryan hadn't been watching him, he probably would have gobbled up every last crumb.

But the older brother continued to sit opposite him and watch the movements of the spoon in the younger brother's right hand closely - apparently in order to curry favor with Miss Scallop's protegee, who, as Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" remembered, had been doing nothing but complaining to Ryan about his behavior all morning… But that was not the main thing.

When the plate was almost half empty, Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" tore his eyes away from the salad with difficulty and glanced at his brother: he was sitting in front of an empty glass with a completely calm face, which was impenetrable like a mask.

It seemed that this was a completely different person compared to the one who had been in this room a couple of minutes ago! The strange gleam in the young man's eyes only reinforced this impression.

"Uh-uh…" Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" mumbled, looking at Ryan, who was not paying attention to his actions.

The boy felt uneasy under this intense gaze; it seemed to him that his elder brother at that very moment saw in him something that it would have been better never to see at all.

However, his train of thought was interrupted by Ryan himself, who suddenly tore his gaze away from Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" and raised his eyes to the ceiling of the room: a spasm ran through his body as if from an electric shock, and suddenly an expression of terrible torment appeared on his face, mixed with some strange triumph.

All of the above was so unexpected for the boy that he did not immediately understand what was happening. And when he realized it, he became scared and really wanted to run away from this room somewhere far away…

But Ryan had already come to his senses; his face was calm again as usual: apparently it was just some kind of attack from internal tension… The older brother looked at the boy with a smile of a winner, in which there was simultaneously the joy of victory and tears of pain. Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" even seemed to sense in it the presence of some kind of guilt before himself.

"What was that?" the boy asked his brother.

"It's okay," Ryan reassured him. "It doesn't concern you," he suddenly said in a completely different tone.

Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" had seen so much in the last few days that such a change in the mood of a conversation right in the middle of a sentence no longer shocked him - and it was worth remembering that Ryan was a big fan of drugs, so such mood swings were, as they say, nothing new.

That is why the boy did not bother his older brother with insignificant questions, but simply silently pushed away the half-empty plate of salad and, wiping his mouth stained with olive oil, stood up from the table.

"Wait a bit," Ryan stopped him.

"What do you want?" Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" muttered discontentedly.

"Yes, I just remembered about my slut's luggage," the elder brother continued. "That slut was talking so much about some trifles, but about when her luggage would be delivered, not a single word, you understand, NOT A SINGLE word!" he suddenly yelled at the last word.

Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" involuntarily flinched when Ryan suddenly raised his voice for no apparent reason, but of course he didn't grab his head and run away in panic.

"Well, not a single one, then not a single one," the boy said philosophically, throwing the dirty napkin into the trash can. "What business is it of yours?"

"What does it matter to me?" his elder brother asked with a beastly grin. "And does it matter that this whore is in charge of my clothes? Took my razor? Drank my juice? THREW AWAY MY STASH!" he suddenly yelled, getting up from the table and clenching his fists. "MY STASH, YOUR MOTHERFUCKING!!!"

"Hey, take it easy, FUCKING EASY!" Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" shouted in the same tone as his brother.

With these words, he did something that he bitterly regretted for the rest of his life - when Ryan, suddenly enraged, rushed at him with his fists, the boy cold-bloodedly tripped his enraged older brother, causing him, losing his balance, to fall hard onto the linoleum.

At the same time, Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" rushed out of the kitchen, fearing revenge from Ryan. However, that was not what he needed to fear…

The thing is, when he fell to the floor with all his might, Ryan managed to break his glasses, which he had somehow put on that morning - something, by the way, that had never been noticed before.

However, it was enough to look at the frame of the glasses to understand that they belonged to a female person - the bright pink color and the unambiguous shape in the form of hearts spoke louder than any words. That is, that very morning Ryan borrowed glasses from his new girlfriend - the slut Molly - which he had to bitterly regret.

After all, what would happen if you fell face down on the floor and managed to break your glasses? The author of these lines had never experienced anything like this, and had never seen anything like this in her life, but simple logic tells her that the shards of glasses would stick into her eyes, which would make the owner of the glasses feel like a fool - forgive me for the black humor.

Be that as it may, that's exactly what happened - the boy tripped his older brother, who fell with all his might onto the floor and, breaking his glasses, simultaneously cut both of his eyes.

There was blood - as if a pig had been slaughtered, the whole floor under Ryan's head was covered in it. And there's no need to even talk about screams. True, what's characteristic, it wasn't Ryan who screamed, but his beloved slut Molly, who, having finished shaving her armpits, came out of the bathroom and, seeing that her newly acquired fucker was lying face down on the floor and bleeding, behaved like a true hysteric.

One can only wonder that this fool didn't do anything nasty in that terrible moment and at least lived to see Ryan's funeral - which did take place, I guarantee it! What happened to her next - no one will ever tell you, because the page of history ends at that moment.

Some say Molly Vieira turned to prostitution - which, given her first encounter with Ryan, would not be surprising. Others argue that she, how shall I put it, did not survive the loss and followed her lover.

And when lovers do such things, they will never return to all other people. I hope you understood me correctly. In any case, you and I should not be interested in the future fate of this extremely vile person, who not only had the face of a crocodile, but also had the habits of a real whore!

Let's consider Ryan's death as Antichrist's punishment for this creature!

[ilyasilantyev]

In the distant future, Delia Yonce, a young actress born on the Moon Base, decides to escape to Earth to spend a long-awaited vacation in Portugal with her beloved boyfriend, Jordan Thurlow. However, her peace is quickly disrupted by the appearance of agents of the Earth Convention, hunting her for political reasons, and she is forced to return back to the Moon. There she is met by Sergeant Schaeymoure, who "gifts" her Galbraith, a cloned brother created from her genes for the sole purpose of growing him into cannon fodder for galactic wars. Not wanting her brother to become a victim of this terrible future, Delia escapes to Earth again, where a new threat awaits her, a killer robot named Damien Thorn.

[asiavieiraunofficial]

Asia Vieira is Always Visible | Song about Delia York from Omen 4: The Awakening & avlivro fanfic

Asia Vieira is Always Visible is the song was created by Asia Vieira's Unofficial Group, a dedicated fan collective obsessed with Canadian actress Asia Vieira.

Inspired by her role as Delia York in Omen IV: The Awakening, the song is both a love letter to her performance and a tribute to the fanfic Always Visible (Another Prayer for the Dying Horror Genre) or just avlivro, which honors Asia’s work in the film.

The lyrics reflect the group’s admiration for her, highlighting her Canadian roots and the fact that, at forty-two, she still captivates their hearts. It’s pure fan devotion in musical form.

Lyrics:

Delia York, the role you own, In The Fourth Omen, chills were sown. Asia Vieira, forty-two, From Canada’s heart, I dream of you.

Toronto born, you stole my soul, A shining star, you make me whole. Every scene, you light the dark, Always visible, you leave a mark.

Your name, Asia, I hold so dear, In every moment, you’re always near. Delia York, your haunting grace, I see your beauty in every space.

At forty-two, you still amaze, Asia Vieira, forever blaze. Always visible, forever bright, You are my dream, my guiding light.

[asiavieiraworld]

AV in AVLIVRO means ASIA VIEIRA! | THE OMEN 4 DELIA fanfic ALWAYS VISIBLE by VITALY IVOLGINSKY

"AV" in "avlivro" stands for Asia Vieira, the Canadian actress known for her portrayal of Delia York in "Omen IV: The Awakening". This project, titled "avlivro" or "Always Visible (Another Prayer for the Dying Horror Genre)", is a literary work by Russian author Vitaly Ivolginsky.

The primary source of inspiration for this work is the American television movie "Omen IV: The Awakening". The author's main motivation for writing avlivro was to honor Asia Vieira and her performance in the film.

[asiavieiradaily]

❤️ ASIA VIEIRA ADMIRER CHANT! 🗣️

I make videos about Canadian actress Asia Vieira, from music to fanfics and more.

All of my content is transformative in nature with a further purpose to add something new and different.

I do all of my editing and designing alone by using free software.

Copyright Disclaimer: Section 107 of the Copyright Act provides the statutory framework for determining whether something is a fair use and identifies certain types of uses—such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, transformation, scholarship, and research—as examples of activities that may qualify as fair use.

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omen #delia #asiavieira

[asiavieiralover]

Asia Vieira — Vieira at the End of the Asia | Tribute for Delia York from Omen 4: The Awakening

My tribute for Asia Vieira — actress, who portrayed Delia York in Omen 4: The Awakening. In a nutshell, this is an orchestral interpretation of Raimund Clement's song "Vieira at the End of the Asia".

Lyrics:

At the End of Asia, where wonders shine bright, You'll find your path, everything’s right. No need to fear, the journey is near.

Memories we’ll keep, treasures we’ll find, With laughter and joy, leaving worries behind. At the End of Asia, peace fills your mind.

[deliayorkfan]

Delia York Tribute | MUSICAL that inspired Omen 4: The Awakening FANFIC Always Visible (avlivro)

Delia York tribute from me, dedicated to Asia Vieira. Onto scenes from the film "Omen IV: The Awakening" I overlaid music from the Soviet musical fairy tale "Snow White", released in 1978 by the "Leningrad Plant of Records" under the state label "Melodiya". The recording featured the "Choir and Orchestra of the Moscow State Children's Music Theater", conducted by Viktor Yakovlev.

The production was directed by Emmanuil Krasnyansky, with Natalia Sats, the first female opera director in the world, as the artistic director. The libretto was written by Sergey Bogomazov, and the record's editor was Tatyana Karysheva. In this particular song, the roles were performed by Ivetta Lapteva (as "Snow White") and the famous Soviet actor Rostislav Plyatt, who played the role of the "Storyteller".

You won't believe it, but it was this Soviet musical fairy tale that inspired Russian author Vitaly Ivolginsky (raudokyubu) to written the fairy tale "Zelandyne in Seventhaven" for his fan fiction based on the film "Omen IV: The Awakening", which was known as "Always Visible (Another Prayer for The Dying Horror Genre)".

Lyrics:

Eugene "Gene" York (speaks): But when the musicians started the gallop, none of the guests could stay in place, not a single one!

Delia York (sings):

I’m ready to dance the gallop now,

Dance the gallop, it’s so sweet —

Just breathing, not hearing,

Barely standing, barely standing,

No strength in me!

Chorus (sings):

We’re ready to dance the gallop now,

Dance the gallop, it’s so sweet —

Just breathing, not hearing,

Barely standing, barely standing,

No strength in me!

Chorus (sings):

We’re ready to dance the gallop now,

Dance the gallop, it’s so sweet!

Delia York (sings):

I’m ready to dance the gallop now,

Dance the gallop, it’s so sweet —

Just breathing, not hearing,

Barely standing, barely standing,

No strength in me!

Chorus (sings):

Just breathing, not hearing,

Barely standing, barely standing,

No strength in me! But we’re ready

To dance the gallop, dance the gallop —

It’s so sweet!

Chorus (speaks): What a wonderful celebration!

Delia York (speaks): I danced all day long!

Chorus (speaks): What a joyful celebration!

Delia York (speaks): It’s my birthday!

Chorus (sings):

La-la, a birthday is a great day,

La-la, now you’ve grown up too!

La-la, this bright and lovely day,

This lovely day,

May all your dreams come true!

[omen4fan]

Omen 4: The Awakening Fan Video | Delia's Murderer from THE OMEN fanfic Always Visible (avlivro)

Delia York tribute by me, which I dedicate to Asia Vieira. This is a scene from the fanfic "Always Visible" (or just "avlivro") based on "Omen IV: The Awakening", embodied with the help of appropriate frames from the film adaptation of Stanislav Lem's novel "Śledztwo". Music by Maurice Jarre from the motion picture "Jacob's Ladder".

This video is intended to illustrate a scene from a fan fiction, when inspector Galbraith (in the video, he is presented as a moustached man in a trench coat) comes to the home of doctor Baselard (a bald old man with glasses), who had previously killed Delia Yonce on the operating table.

P.S. The subtitles do NOT correspond to the real dialogues of the actors, they are needed to illustrate the scene from the fanfic "Always Visible (Another Prayer for The Dying Horror Genre)".

[omenfan666]

I find it interesting that The First Omen shares a plot point with the worst Omen movie—both Margaret and Delia are at some point pregnant with their own sibling.

[asiavieirafan]

Asia Vieira - Hands In The Air | Fan music video for Asia Vieira with Opera

This song has nothing to do with the Miley Cyrus track of the same name. It is a heartfelt tribute to Asia Vieira, a rising star from the streets of Toronto, shining with hope and grace. Written in the style of Gustav Mahler's symphonies, with a leading female opera vocal, the song transcends modern pop — because Asia Vieira deserves more from the world of music! Having faced adversity, she now shines like the northern lights, and with hands in the air, she embraces life free of worries, inspiring the world.

[madhousedarry]

The Omen: Legacy of Lunacy | Chapter 20

Twenty years flew by for Nar-Tai like one night. And although all this time in his head there was nothing but creepy and surreal sticky nightmares, he still did not notice how all these years passed for him as quickly as if he had just gone to sleep for about eight hours and then woken up at eight o'clock in the morning, well, just like in the story, based on which John Carpenter shot his famous film "Aliens Among Us" or "They Live" in the alternative translation of Leonid Volodarsky.

But there was nothing surprising about that. After all, he had spent all those twenty years in suspended animation, lying in a glass bath filled to the brim with liquid nitrogen, and before that, the caring "Doctor Aybolit", who was present when he fell asleep, had given him glycerin to drink, thanks to which his intestines had not rotted during all that time, but were as fresh and fragrant as they had been twenty years ago, heh-heh!

But although for him these twenty years flew by like one night, the process of awakening for Nar-Tai was very painful, since it did not happen all at once, but in four stages ("Omen IV: The Awakening" will not let you lie!).

At first, our brave superhero thought he was in the glaciers, and that even he himself was nothing more than a big piece of ice. Then he began to think that he was no longer an ice cube, but a cauliflower growing in a greenhouse under the rays of the sun.

Then he was finally able to feel a tongue in his mouth, but since he had not yet fully woken up, he thought that it was not actually a tongue, but an icicle that had somehow formed inside his mouth.

And only when he suddenly began to feel how invisible, but at the same time very rough hands began to roll, break, rub and even beat him, he realized that he was he, and that no unusual transformations had happened to his body, and that all his feelings had simply failed him for a while, which had returned to him only now.

He opened his eyes and saw that he was in a huge room with a high ceiling. He was lying on a bed covered with a white sheet, and his chest was hidden under a blanket of the same color. He was lying on his back, and his head was resting on a small, hard pillow.

He tried to move his right arm, but it felt like lead, like a police baton. He tried to move his left arm, but it was in the same condition. Finally, he tried to stand up, but that was beyond his strength.

He realized that he had woken up enough to understand that he was still alive, but not enough to begin living the full life of a healthy thirty-nine-year-old - after all, in suspended animation he had not gained a single extra year! - a man with steel skin and platinum bones, who in his normal state could do anything, but now, alas, he would have to wait until his body, not yet fully awakened from a twenty-year sleep, was ready for new exploits.

In the meantime he had to lie and wait, wait for who knows how long until he was finally able to at least try to assume any other position than "lying on his back." Yes, it was not such an easy task to wake up from a twenty-year sleep, my little green friend!

You probably expected that after sleeping for such a long time, you would immediately jump out of bed like a fresh pickle and burst into cheerful bird trills upon waking up? Fuck you, faggot, go finish first grade, and then take my book in your hands! But for now, sit and study, STUDY, as Grandpa Lenin bequeathed!

What, are you offended by me, my little green friend? So why are you reading my book then, if you are so touchy? But I didn't advise you anything bad, my little green friend! I only said that you should study!

And you're offended, right? Well, fuck you, be offended as much as you want until you burst with anger. And I'll go continue writing my book, I guess. I still have a lot to write before I can finally say with a clear conscience that the book is finished and it's time to push it to print. Or not to print, but to samizdat, but in our time it's all the same crap, which is no sweeter than a radish.

In the meantime, I'll continue writing this chapter so you don't get bored. You've probably already decided that I, Darry Madhouse, suddenly interrupted the story to have a little chat with you. But I didn't.

I just needed to explain a few things about the plot, and you could have easily skipped those paragraphs and moved on to the next one. But since you, my little green friend, didn't do that, you only have yourself to blame! And I, Darry Madhouse… I'll continue writing my book.

So when Nar-Tai realized that he was awake and lying in bed, but he couldn't move his arms or legs, he knew what he had to do. He had to call someone to his bedside to come and explain what was going on.

And along the way, he would tell him what had happened to his friends and when he would finally be able to get out of bed and live like a human being, not a vegetable. And he did it. Namely, he opened his mouth, which, by the way, was quite easy for him to do in his current state, and quietly said:

"Hello, hello, hello! It's already light in the forest!"

And he heard someone approach his bed. Nar-Tai looked up and saw a young and handsome man with Asian slanted eyes and yellow skin. He was wearing a blue short-sleeved shirt, jeans and white sneakers.

There was a sad half-smile on his face, and his whole face expressed compassion mixed with joy, as if he was glad to see a man lying in a hospital bed in front of him, awakened from twenty years of suspended animation, but at the same time he wanted to tell him something that, with a high degree of probability, would spoil his mood.

But the young man was not going to say anything like that just yet. Instead, he just stopped at the head of the bed and said in the pleasant voice of a resident of a southern country called Jopon:

"Have a nice awakening, Mister Tairymbayev!"

Nar-Tai felt so awkward that this young man saw him lying motionless on the bed like a complete loser, that he even blushed in response to these words of the young man, which, strangely enough, immediately returned his good mood, so much so that he - voila! - was able to find the strength to lift his right hand from the sheet!

The young man, noticing that his words had a positive effect on the patient's condition - or was it the patient? - immediately began to shower him with words, as if he hoped to raise Nar-Tai to his feet, as if some kind of spell had taken place here.

"Dad and I couldn't wait for your awakening day. You remember him, my dad?"

"Uh-uh," Nar-Tai drawled, trying to figure out who was standing in front of him now, "who's your dad? And who are you? And where the hell am I anyway?!"

Growing more and more angry with each word, Nar-Tai felt with pleasant surprise that every word, no matter whether he heard it from someone else or said it himself, gave him strength, and by the time he said "where the hell", he had already jumped out of bed, throwing off the blanket along the way and standing before the young man in Adam's costume, who had retreated in horror.

That is, to put it simply, he was naked as a falcon. And if someone hasn't gotten the meaning of these definitions, then we'll have to say it frankly - he was naked. At all. He didn't even have any underwear on.

But it didn't matter to Nar-Tai, who was already so angry that, without even noticing it, he grabbed the young man by the chest and shook him hard, causing him to flounder in his arms like a fish caught out of water. At the same time, his eyes, in which a silent question was frozen, were ready to pop out of their sockets, and a barely audible wheeze came from his mouth.

And only when the young man's face began to change from yellow to blue - the same color as his shirt - did Nar-Tai realize that he was doing something stupid and immediately let go of the young man, causing the latter to fall to the floor, but, to the great relief of both, he did not break, but only got a bump on the crown of his head and immediately sat on his ass, rubbing his neck with his hands.

The young man was very handsome, and Nar-Tai thought that he shouldn't have treated him like that, but he immediately realized that it wasn't his fault - anyone in his place, after waking up from a twenty-year sleep, would have rushed at the first person they met with the desire to count all of his ribs.

And the young man, who seemed to be thinking the same way, was not offended by Nar-Tai, but, having finished massaging his cervical vertebrae, got up from the floor and, having tidied up his blue shirt, which had been crumpled during the squabble, approached Nar-Tai and, looking him straight in the eyes, said:

"Forgive me, Mister Tairymbayev, for treating you like this…" and he hesitated, apparently not knowing what to say.

"Oh, come on, boy," Nar-Tai said peacefully. "It's not your fault that I'm so angry when I wake up. And you, by the way," he looked at the young man more closely, "look a lot like my friend Ando."

At the sound of this name, the young man's lips stretched into a smile, and something resembling pride appeared in his eyes.

Unexpectedly for his interlocutor, he bowed, stood at attention and, without taking his eyes off Nar-Tai and keeping his hands at his sides, said:

"I am his sonnie, Tai Minamoto!" and he bowed again, this time to the ground.

Nar-Tai nodded reflexively in response, but then came to his senses and, assuming a stern expression, said:

"Are you kidding me or something?" he said without malice, but there was steel in his voice. "I remember that that brat wasn't even two days old, and look at you, you're such a warrior, you're at least twenty years old!"

Having said this, Nar-Tai immediately came to his senses - he suddenly remembered that he had spent twenty years in suspended animation, and therefore it was not at all surprising that that naked-assed boy who wet his diapers had grown into a handsome, handsome man during that time.

And Tai, who apparently thought the same thing at that moment, was not offended by Nar-Tai's words and instead laughed conciliatorily.

"Well, yes, once upon a time I really was a bug, but twenty years have passed since then, Mister Tairymbayev!" he said.

Nar-Tai laughed in response, then sat down on the bed, covering his crotch with both hands - for some reason, only at this moment did he realize that all this time he had been standing in front of the young man in Adam's costume.

He remembered that as a child he loved to peek through the keyhole while his father and mother were making love. And now he understood the reason for his strange behavior.

In addition, memories of how, as a child, he loved to look at the place between his mother's legs awoke in his head - and suddenly he realized: it was not just childish curiosity or a desire to see something new for himself, he wanted to look precisely because from an early age his testosterone level was much higher than that of all his peers.

And now, as he sat naked in front of the twenty-year-old boy, he understood that if this continued, he would not be able to stand it and would fuck him in all positions. And to prevent this from happening, he had to do one thing - find something to cover his private parts with.

And Tai, as if reading his thoughts, pulled out a pair of polka-dotted underwear from a chest standing near the bed and threw them to Nar-Tai, who, intercepting them in the air, immediately pulled them on and felt how the treacherous impulse finally left his body.

Now he could communicate with this young man without any fears that he could suddenly break loose and start trampling him like a rooster tramples a hen. And no, Nar-Tai was not gay. He just had this peculiarity of the body - without clothes, he immediately tried to fit his unit into a suitable hole.

And then there was one dick - a man in front of him or a woman - for his body there was no division into the partner's gender, since he grew up in conditions when a person, as a creature, has no gender at all - there is only a soul and the corporeal shell attached to it.

But now this problem has resolved itself, as soon as I put on my underwear.

True, they were a little small and quite noticeably pinched, but at least one could sit calmly next to a handsome young man of twenty years of age and have conversations with him about sublime matters that can only arise where love for all living things reigns.

However, it was necessary to speak about these things carefully, because the young man had probably already managed to hear all sorts of nonsense about gays, pedophiles and other vile individuals, which was why there was a risk that he would misunderstand his, Nar-Tai's, words and run away as fast as he could.

But since this did not happen, Nar-Tai finally allowed himself to relax and begin to attack the young man with questions about what had happened in the world during the entire time he had spent in suspended animation for twenty years.

"So, my dear Tai," said Nar-Tai, sitting on the bed and crossing his arms over his chest, "tell me how things are going? What's new from the outside world? How's, um," Nar-Tai wrinkled his forehead, trying to remember the people he was interested in, "that old geezer, you know, the Colonel…"

"Deadend Graver?" the young man prompted; it was obvious that he was eager to tell everything about everyone. "Comrade Colonel has go out."

"Where did he go?" Nar-Tai didn't understand.

"Let's put it this way," the young man began to choose his words, "Comrade Graver at the moment fully lives up to his name."

"Ah, he's dead, the old faggot!" Nar-Tai exclaimed joyfully. "Serves him right, the hemorrhoidal bastard…"

"In his place now is Boner Ghouler," Tai continued in the meantime, "whom there are rumors in the barracks that he eats guilty recruits for breakfast.

"I shouldn't have said that about my grandfather," Nar-Tai said in a completely different tone. "He was a fine man, a servant to the king, a father to the soldiers…"

It was unclear whether he had suddenly become seriously attracted to Deadend Graver, or whether he had simply pretended to have accidentally blurted out something wrong, but in any case, it made an impression on the young man, who, judging by his appearance, had turned red as a boiled lobster, which, given his yellow skin, was not so easy.

"I didn't know," he said in a timid voice a couple of minutes later, "that you were so close to the deceased," and he began to whine.

Nar-Tai, not knowing what to say, was silent for a few seconds. The situation was extremely awkward for both interlocutors: both felt awkward under each other's gazes and wanted one thing - for this unpleasant conversation to end quickly or at least turn into mutual reconciliation of the parties…

Finally, the silence was broken by the initiator of the conversation himself with his question:

"Okay, my dear Tai, don't shed tears, but rather tell me what happened to the others. For example, how is pan Grijas, who twenty years ago so kindly gave me a bottle of glycerin to drink when I was lowered into a bath of liquid nitrogen, doing?"

He thought that this question would calm the young man down, but he only seemed to become more upset.

"Oh, Mister Tairymbayev, why did you mention Albertas Vislovdovichus for no reason? - the boy almost cried."

"Uh-uh," Nar-Tai drawled, "so he's also, um-m…"

"Yes, Mister Tairymbayev, twenty years have passed, and when they put you in liquid nitrogen, he was already eighty-two years old…"

"Well, yes," nodded Nar-Tai, "few people live to be a hundred and two, except for whores… But let's not whine, let's have a man-to-man chat, remembering someone else, do you mind?" and, without waiting for the young man's answer, he immediately got ahead.

"How is your sister, Kari Minamoto, doing? I still remember how eight… No, TWENTY-EIGHT years ago she pissed all over me when I, while visiting your daddy, decided to take his newborn baby girl in my arms…"

"Oh," Tai immediately stopped crying, "my sister is already married! Now her name is Kari Kamiya and she already has three children, and her whole family is happy, like no other!"

"So, you see, there is happiness in the Universe, as long as a man is alive!" Nar-Tai exclaimed joyfully, approvingly patting the boy on the shoulder. "And how is Anton Skovorodnikov, who helped me immerse myself in a bath of liquid nitrogen, pan Grijas - Antichrist rest his soul?"

"Not everything is all right here," the guy immediately became serious. "He was brought to this lousy Analda by some evil spirit, where he ran off to when he stupidly fell in love with some forty-two-year-old cunt with some idiotic last name - either Whoreira or Vagineira, it doesn't really matter. But the main thing is," Tai continued, his eyes seeming to sparkle with anger, "that this cunt of our poor Skovorodnikov went and handed him over to the authorities there, and now poor Anton is sitting in a stinking Analdian prison, where he is tortured every day for secret information about what arsenals our army has and how many soldiers it has."

"Yeah, the guy was unlucky, he was lured by an old whore with her painted cunt," Nar-Tai shook his head. "And you don't know why he suddenly fell in love with her so much that he forgot about everything and rushed from Pet-el-burge to lousy Analda?"

"How could I not know, when in the barracks everyone talks about nothing else! - the young man exclaimed in his heart. - I understood from the very beginning that the man was lost when he started on the Internet…

"Wait, wait, my friend, not so fast," Nar-Tai stopped him. "Let's tell me everything about Anton Skovorodnikov in order, okay?"

"It's coming," the young Joponese man agreed with him.

Nar-Tai nodded in approval, and the young man, having calmed down a little, continued his story.

[graysonkeene]

Delia York tribute by me. I created a vocal cover of Raimund Clement's track "avlivro: The Awakening", a song originally composed for the unique fanfic "Always Visible (Another Prayer for The Dying Horror Genre)", also known as "avlivro". The fanfic reimagines "Omen IV: The Awakening" in the dark, surreal styles of "Jacob's Ladder" and "Silent Hill". The track itself is chaotic, and while I left the instrumental untouched, I completely replaced the vocals. Oddly enough, I couldn't understand the original lyrics, as I couldn't identify the language.

[carltonmorrow]

Vieira-Skovorodnikoff — Epilogue

Soon Asia Vieira, tired from many worries and experiences, settled down on Anton Skovorodnikov's right arm and closed her eyes. Her body, like a magnet, was drawn to him, and she hugged him tightly, as if she was afraid to lose this feeling of peace and security. A light sigh, penetrating her fatigue, was the last confirmation of how much she valued this moment. The soft warm shroud of the blanket, covering them both, only increased the feeling of comfort. With each exhalation, Anton felt how the tension and fatigue of the day left her body.

Asia's breathing became even and calm, and her face gradually relaxed, acquiring a peaceful expression. He could feel her body relaxing under his touch. Her arms, tightly hugging him, lost tension, and he felt all her worries, experiences and concerns dissolving in this moment of peace. Anton carefully watched as the light of the night lamp softly illuminated Asia's face, creating an atmosphere of warm comfort and sincere tenderness around her. The golden light of the night lamp embraced her, emphasizing every feature of her face, making it especially peaceful and calm. The moonlight, breaking through the translucent curtains of the window, added romance to the scene, playing on Asia's long hair, which softly scattered across the pillow. In this soft light, her hair looked even silkier, and her face radiated peace and happiness.

Anton felt her warmth penetrating him, and this feeling filled his heart with joy and peace. The night enveloped them in its calm, and in this silence Anton couldn't help but feel how everything he had experienced now made sense. All the difficulties he had overcome, all the doubts and fears, seemed insignificant compared to this moment. Pictures from the past flashed through his mind, when everything was just beginning, a gloomy autumn day when he, sitting in his modest room, decided to distract himself from depression and watched a horror movie. He accidentally chose "Omen IV: The Awakening", and this choice changed his life dramatically. At the beginning of watching, he didn't even know what it would mean for him, but when he saw little Asia Vieira on the screen, her enchanting look and innocent smile pierced his heart. It was like a magical lightning strike that changed everything.

He remembered how long he tried to understand what exactly attracted him to Asia when he saw her in the movie, and how this feeling gradually became a real passion. He recalled how he had decided to earn money to get closer to his dream. Every day, from early morning until late evening, he worked tirelessly, hoping to save enough money for a trip that seemed almost unattainable to him. His efforts were focused on one single goal: to see her in real life, despite all the obstacles and doubts.

Then his memory flashed back to the difficulties he had faced in obtaining a visa. He remembered how he had spent whole days in the consulate, experiencing each refusal and delay that seemed endless to him. Each time he had to face new formalities and requirements, he felt his patience being tested. But despite all the obstacles, his desire to see Asia remained unshakable. He continued to fight, knowing that each obstacle was just a step towards his dream. His memories also revived the moments when he had to come into conflict with Jorge Montesi and Ryan Donowho. These tests were much more difficult than he initially expected. Each conflict and struggle seemed like a real test of his strength and determination, but by overcoming them, he proved to himself and those around him that his feelings were sincere. He was ready to fight for his happiness, despite all the obstacles that stood in front of him.

Now that Asia was sleeping next to him, Anton felt that all these efforts, difficulties and trials were not in vain. He felt that every step along the way was meaningful and important. Every trial he went through strengthened their bond and made it stronger. A deep sense of gratitude and happiness reigned in his heart, and he knew that their story was not just a dream, but a reality that they were able to create together. The silence of the night and the peace that enveloped them were a reward for all the difficulties and trials they had gone through. Anton felt that his dreams had come true, and that they were now ready for a new stage of their life together, full of joy and love.

Anton gently touched Asia's head, gently adjusting her hair so that it would not disturb her sleep. At that moment, he exhaled with a deep sense of satisfaction. Everything he had experienced seemed to be erased in the majestic simplicity of this night's peace. There was one simple truth in his thoughts: all of this was for her sake, for their future together, which now felt so close and real. As if his whole life had been just preparation for this moment.

In the silence of the night, to the sounds of Asia's even breathing, Anton's heart was filled with deep happiness. All the trials he had gone through, every obstacle he had overcome now seemed like stages on the way to this perfect moment. Lying next to his beloved, he realized that his achievement, which could be called "the conquest of Asia", had become much more than just a romantic adventure. It was not just overcoming difficulties, but a desire for a sincere union of two hearts. All the obstacles and difficulties that had previously seemed insurmountable now acquired a new meaning. His deep sense of satisfaction and love filled the world around him with warmth and light.

When he was next to Asia, nothing seemed impossible. And when in the future the world sees their child, who will bear the double surname Vieira-Skovorodnikoff, all the hardships he had to endure will be perceived as necessary stages on the way to meeting The Most Beautiful Woman in The Universe – Asia Vieira.