#Duane Charly

[curryvillain]

.@ArmaniiSYG Goes For The 3Peat With "No Signal" Album

It’s no secret that Armanii is one of the hottest acts out in Dancehall. He has gained the younger crowd, but some of the older folks are tuning in, and his songs have been gaining traction on Social Media, and in the streets. A spot in the end of year’s best chart has already been secured for him, but he’s making sure that you hear more of him before the year’s over. With that in mind, he gives…

[musicmags]

[themnmovieman]

Movie Review ~ All You Need is Death

In All You Need is Death, what begins as an eerie peek into a world of Irish mythology that will be foreign to most devolves into a forgettable misfire devoid of dimensionality.

All You Need is Death Synopsis: A young couple who collect rare folk ballads discover the dark side of love when they surreptitiously record and translate an ancient, taboo folk song from the deep, forgotten past.Stars: Simone Collins, Charlie Maher, Olwen Fouéré, Barry McKiernan, Catherine Siggins, Nigel O’NeillDirector: Paul DuaneRated: NRRunning Length: 90 minutes Review: We all have our…

[moviesandmania]

ALL YOU NEED IS DEATH Reviews, trailer and release news

‘Love is a knife with a blade for a handle.’ All You Need is Death is a 2023 Irish folk horror film about a young couple that meets an elderly woman and unleashes evil. Blurb: “Blending Irish folklore and musical traditions with nerve-wracking horror, Paul Duane’s masterful debut feature All You Need Is Death is one of the most unique and unsettling films of the year.” The movie was written and…

[krispyweiss]

“Blackberry Smoke’s True North,”Drummer and Co-founder Brit Turner, Dies at 57

- “He was the most caring, empathetic, driven and endearing person one could ever hope to meet,” bandmates say of Turner

Brit Turner, the co-founder and drummer of Blackberry Smoke, has died of glioblastoma, the brain cancer he was diagnosed with in 2022, his bandmates said.

Turner, 57, “was the most caring, empathetic, driven and endearing person one could ever hope to meet,” the band said March 3 in announcing his death.

“Brit was Blackberry Smoke’s True North, the compass that instituted the ideology that will continue to guide this band.”

Eulogized by the Ramblin’ Preachers as “an absolute monster” behind the kit, the drummer was also “a great human being,” Duane Betts said in a statement.

“Brit Turner will be missed by so many.”

He co-founded Blackberry Smoke in 2000 with singer/guitarist Charlie Starr, guitarist Paul Jackson and his bassist brother Richard Turner. The core quartet appeared on all the band’s releases, including eight studio albums, and Brit Turner continued to perform when possible during his illness; Kent Aberle sat in when Turner sat out and seems poised to join the band.

“Everyday, every groove I play you will be with me,” Aberle wrote on Facebook. “… Through us, Brit’s love and energy will live on.”

The Outlaws called Turner, “without question one of the smartest, most talented, sweetest men” the band ever came across.

“His creative instincts were second-to-none and his self image and that of his band were a testimony to his unique vision,” the group said.

“We send our condolences to his family and bandmates.”

3/4/24

[aloysiavirgata]

Loved your Skinner POV. I am the ultimate sucker for a Margaret Scully POV. Do one? *doe eyes*

Cancer. How can it be cancer, how can Fox already have been at the hospital, how can they plot and whisper and conspire; how can Dana have cancer?

Margaret is so angry and so afraid. So, so angry.

Terrified.

She has the wild, insane thought that Dana is too beautiful to have cancer, as though Melissa hadn’t been too beautiful to be casually murdered.

Fox looming and lurking in hallways and corners and sunsets and pre-dawn stillness. Like a grim guardian angel, like the beautiful statue of Lucifer Bill once took her to see at Liège.

Margaret sees Fox kiss her daughter’s bright hair one night, kiss her daughter’s sad, smiling mouth.

She doesn’t know what she wants for them. She crosses herself and walks away.

***

She doesn’t understand the situation with Emily, not really. She listens to everything Dana says about induced hyperovulation and surrogates and she nodded, dutiful, because she can hear Dana’s throat so tight, trying not to cry.

Emily is very sick, Dana says. The courts have no precedence for this, Dana says. I want to help her, Mom.

If Emily is Dana’s, if she really is, then she’s Margaret’s granddaughter and Margaret, to her shame, doesn’t want her to be.

Fox stands in the corner of the room, staring out the window at nothing, his jaw hard as stone. He radiates a quiet steadiness and Margaret feels her strange, lovely daughter draw strength from it, like a solar panel on a bright day. Are there lunar panels? Mulder’s eyes are nothing like the sun.

He radiates a cold fury and Margaret almost has pity for the target of it.

“When I was abducted by Duane Barry,” Dana begins, her voice mostly steady. “Wherever he took me had some kind of program where-“

Fox slams his fist into the windowframe and Margaret jumps, gasps. “Fox!”

“Mulder…” Dana breathes, her eyes closed.

He stalks from the room like a panther. Like an assassin.

***

“I’m pregnant,” Dana says, a little blushing laugh. Her hand splays over her flat belly.

Margaret surges with such piercing love for this incomprehensible child she birthed. “Oh honey,” she breathes.

Dana drops her head to the side, cheek to shoulder. “I’m so tired already,” she confesses. “I don’t know how you had four with Daddy away.”

She reaches for her daughter’s slim fingers. “I wanted five. Eight, if we could have. Three miscarriages after Charlie and then….” she is appalled at herself. “Dana, I’m so-“

Dana squeezes her mother’s hand. “Miscarriages aren’t some kind of thought virus, Mom.”

Margaret squeezes her hand back. “I know, I know. It just feels like bad luck. And Fox, will he be….?”

Dana looks up, a flush high in her cheeks. “Why are you bringing Mulder up?”

Margaret rolls her eyes. ““I’m a Vatican I Catholic, Dana. Not an idiot.”

Her daughter has the grace to look away. “He wants me to marry him,” she murmurs.

Margaret loves Fox. She loves him the way people love barn cats and funny cock-eared dogs and every pied beauty. But all of a sudden it’s Fox at Thanksgiving, Fox properly at Christmas this time. Uncle Fox, wedding-anniversary Fox, Fox calling her…what? Mom? Surely not Mrs. Scully still.

Margaret knows her children have done the math on her oldest son’s birthday, that he was mighty hefty for a “preemie.” She knows her latest grandchild deserves to be born in wedlock, she knows every Catholic from Father McCue back to Saint Peter would be absolutely appalled with her.

“Be sure of what you want,” she says to the chestnut tree just past the living room window. To Saint Mary Magdalene, to all repentant sinners.

***

William, six. William clever and tall for his age and gingerbread-colored like his father, with his mother’s round lapis eyes. Fiona, four, happily squirting colored water into a large plastic bin of shaving cream. The twins - Silas and Clara- are nearly three and getting bathed in the sink by their father. Dana, a tenured professor, lolling on the couch. Dana pregnant with number five.

Dana yawns like a cat over some tedious medical journal. Dana ever rail-thin since her cancer. Dana still looking depleted of essential nutrients. Phosphorus? Zinc?

But Dana is still a doctor, so Margaret is silent.

“Are you all right?” Margaret asks her irritable daughter. She beams at Clara, absurdly chubby, with her Aunt Melissa’s coppery curls. Clara with her plump hands like little stars. Silas, rosy and dark-haired, howls in general indignation. Silas with his father’s fairy-forest eyes and impossible lashes. Silas who loves to pat his grandmother’s cheeks.

“Mother I’m FINE,” Dana sighs. “Sy, hush. It’s only warm water.”

Margaret watches her son-in-law for a time, watches his long hands and his furrowed brow as the twins laugh and splash and protest in the deep farmhouse sink. Her Bill could never have done what Fox does.

“Loretta Lynn said she stopped having babies when they started coming in pairs,” Fox observes, sluicing water over his anguished twins. Clara laments pitifully. Silas has a broken air about him, weary as his mother.

Dana laughs, sweet as communion wine. “Stop knocking me up, then,” she grins, hand over her enormous belly.

“Not until you marry me,” Fox replies, thumbing Silas’s fat cheek. Kissing his darkly curled head.

Fiona on the carpet, giggling as William makes farting sounds in his armpits. Fiona with the blackest hair and the bluest eyes and the most perfectly sprinkled freckles like her Uncle Charlie.

William like a wood-elf, so tall and bright.

Dana laughs again. “No priest would ever, would they, Mom?”

Margaret, exhausted and happy, sighs at the pair of them.

In the oven, turkey tetrazzini from the Thanksgiving leftovers. Potty-training sticker charts on the fridge. Will’s perfect math homework, Fee’s wobbly I LOV YU!! above a careful crayon drawing of her family.

Margaret could have never predicted this, could never have seen Fox in sweats and baking Texas Sheet Cake for the PTA. Fox staying home and juggling nap schedules so that Dana could tell anecdotes about maggots to her adoring students.

Fox has a blog, which is Quite The Thing nowadays. Fox is a bestselling author. He’s made the talk show circuit and the girls from bunko send her newspaper clippings.

Fox towels off his exhausted babies. He diapers them, dresses them in fleecy pajamas. They look at him with enormous, reproachful eyes. They pout.

Margaret holds her arms out, draws them in when they toddle over.

The babies nestle, nuzzle, make sweet baby sounds as the sink drains away. Their little mouths pop open, lashes curled on their flawless cheeks. She’s never expected Dana, of all of her children, to be living this life. Cold, prickly, distant Dana with her lunatic partner and her brain cancer and her dead little girl.

“There are infinite infinities,” William tells Fiona. “But some infinities are larger than others.”

[the-bi-library]

Here is the final part of the bi4bi books posts!

I'd appreciate it if you let me know if there are any more bi4bi books that I didn't include here 💕

Books listed: They Never Learn by Layne Fargo If We Were Villains by M.L. Rio Silver Nitrate by Silvia Moreno-Garcia The Drowning Summer by C.L. Herman Case Sensitive by A.K. Turner Missing, Presumed Dead by Emma Berquist Her Soul to Take by Harley Laroux Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao City of Shattered Light by Claire Winn City of Vicious Night by Claire Winn The Light Years by R.W.W. Greener The Apocalypse of Elena Mendoza by Shaun David Hutchinson Tell Me Anything by Skye Kilaen Her Scarlet Letters by Cat Giraldo Break Free by Raleigh Ruebins Modern Divination by Isabel Agajanian Caroline's Heart by Austin Chant The Door Into Fire by Diane Duane The Stone Prince by Fiona Patton Swordspoint by Ellen Kushner Wolf, Willow, Witch by Freydís Moon When the Stars Alight by Camilla Andrew Love at First Set by Jennifer Dugan Cleans Up Nice by Margo Phelps Educated by Nellie Wilson Queried Sick by Dallas Smith Chance Agreement by Margo Phelps Sirens & Muses by Antonia Angress Release by Suzanne Clay Orphia and Eurydicius by Elyse John Crown of Starlight by Cait Corrain To Beg or Not to Beg by Cat Giraldo Two Winters by Lauren Emily Whalen Electric Idol by Katee Robert Neon Gods by Katee Robert The Scandalous Letters of V and J by Felicia Davin The Spinster's Swindle by Catherine Stein Rocky Mountain Freedom by Vivian Arend Um traço até você by Olívia Pilar Biforia by Rebecca Romero Escalando Você by Rebecca Romero Entre estantes by Olívia Pilar → translated Between Bookshelves by Olívia Pilar Honor Among Thieves by Rachel Caine Victories Greater Than Death by Charlie Jane Anders The Stars Undying by Emery Robin Legend of Korra: Graphic Novels Harley Quinn: The Eat. Bang! Kill. Tour Novels Seven Days: Monday–Sunday by Venio Tachiban Brimstones and Roses It Would Be Great If You Didn't Exist My Werewolf Girlfriend The Fiancée Farce by Alexandria Bellefleur Xeni by Rebekah Weather

Part 1

Part 2

[lookingglasswolf]

Charlie Dalton Head Cannon

So I watched Shaking the Tree (Duane Clark) recently, and I was thinking about how much Sully resembles Charlie.

(fair warning - this is kind of a long one and it's a little tragic, but it does have a good ending) My hc for Charlie is set years after Neil's death and Charlie having gotten expelled from Welton for punching Cameron. Charlie is devastated by having lost his best friend and goes on to continuously blame himself for not having talked with Neil head on when he had seen even the smallest of signs - for not having done something, anything to prevent it. Without Mr. Keating's guidance and Neil being around to help ground him, Charlie does not bother with getting back into school. He is still the "rich-boy" of his parents who are emotionally unavailable to him when he needs it the most. They are disappointed in him and his "antics" that robbed him of opportunities he may have had at Welton, and they ground him and give him the cold shoulder. Everything that happened causes his relationship with them to continue to falter and he decides to 'take out' (or rather steal) a loan from them in order to move to New York and get away from everything. Charlie stays in touch with the other dead poets like Knox and Todd when he can, but rather than settling into a downward spiral, they have been inspired by Neil's legacy and most of them have gone on to college so they can study in order to become positive influencers of their own (teachers, writers, lawyers, etc.). Charlie feels as if he is the only one who is still grappling with what he wants to do with his life. He doesn't say it outright but he's envious that the other poets are doing well out there. What he'd said in the cave years ago during one of the DPS meetings still rings true (pulled from the book):

Fastforward 10 years later and Charlie is still just as much of a free spirit as ever, but lately it's gotten more out of hand. He's gotten in with a bad crowd and developed a gambling addiction (it feels good to take risks!) and a drinking problem as an attempt to numb his ongoing pain. He usually drinks when there is no feasible distraction or cheap thrill to keep his mind occupied. One night he goes too far after a few drinks and has a meltdown late at night in front of his new friends. He can't get Neil's death out of his head; it has haunted him ever since and he can almost feel his ghost in the room. He gets ahold of a gun and has to be talked down by his new friends, which proves to be a difficult feat since they are not on the same level of friendship as the dead poets. "You know what is funny? Or maybe pathetic is a better word...Look at me. I'm 27 years old. I still don't have a clue what I'm doin' with my life. I don't know...I don't know! I don't know what I'm doin'...I don't even know what I wanna do! I hate my life! There's a pain inside of me...and it's just gettin' worse..." -Sully aka Charlie (Shaking the Tree - Duane Clark) Pics below: (these are taken from Shaking the Tree and Dead Poets Society but just look how similar the setting is compared to Mr. Perry's study - thought that was kind of eerie)

Charlie has a close call in which the gun goes off, but merely grazes and stuns him while his friends hold him and console him. He gets through the night alive and apologizes once he has sobered up - this is a side to him that he doesn't want anyone to see. The experience jars him enough that he decides to reach out to Knox and the rest of the dead poets, and initiate a meeting after all this time. Although he had very nearly met a similar end to Neil, he is now desperate to keep going in his honor. He knows in his heart that Neil would have wanted that for him.

⁽⁽ᶦᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᶦᵗ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᶠᵃʳ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᵗʳᵘˡʸ ᵍʳᵃᵗᵉᶠᵘˡ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᶦᶜᵏᶦⁿᵍ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᶦᵏᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ʰᶜ ᵇᶜ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵃᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ⁾⁾

[xtrablak674]

Charlie Pizzarello - GMHC's Young Hot & Safe '94 Photoshoot

I was a member of Gay Men's Health Crisis's - Young Adult Prevention Program for a few years and was amongst the team of young people who helped to develop this campaign. I also was a model at the photoshoot and had the good fortune to also end up in the final campaign that rode all over the MTA in the form of a subway poster that was posted all over the transit system in buses and subways.

This campaign was executed exactly thirty years ago, and I can recall how much fun I had at the photoshoot with folks I knew and a lot I didn't know, it felt like a plutonic orgy with all the mis-matching of couples to get as many varieties of pairings as possible for the final product.

Not that I am a person who attends reunions, it would be wonderful to have a reunion of the folks that participated in this campaign just to see who is still with us, and who isn't, and what they have all done with themselves since then. I am pictured with Timothy Fischetti above, who is no longer with us, I was so sad to hear he had departed because the last time we spoke he sounded so happy and content, an actualization of this campaign in my assessment. Modern society has always wanted to cast queers as sad and loathsome people. We were seeking to assert a more positive presentation of young queer folks, being beautiful and practicing safer sex.

This campaign was HIV/AIDS education with a sex positive harm reduction message targeted towards the sexually active and future active youth of New York City, being the early nineties there was media backlash to the campaign, I was pleased to stand with Councilman Tom Duane at the press conference for this campaign and give my own words about how important representation matters for young people in regards to AIDS education whether they be sexually active or not.

My father was an activist post-Vietnam until his death. There is a legacy of activism within my family and I was happy to spend over ten years focused on HIV/AIDS education in the queer communities. The messages have changed but activism is still necessary and hopefully the kids today are picking up the reigns and pushing the messages that need to be heard by the public and hopefully pushing the movement and conversation forward.

[Photos by Charlie Pizzarello]

[quicktimeeventfull]

What is your Hogwarts house?

it was hufflepuff but unfortunately that well has become so poisoned that i no longer wish to engage with that franchise in any capacity. i would like to share some other childhood magic novels that still evoke that sense of nostalgia in me:

children of the red king (aka charlie bone) by jenny ninmo

the secret of platform 13 by eva ibbotson

inkheart by cornelia funke

the chrestomanci series by diana wynne jones

the young wizards series by diane duane (worth nothing that the author updated ‘a wizard alone’ bc it was so wildly ableist; i haven’t read the new version so i can’t vouch for it)

[butchreyes]

CHARLIE! i am here to ask for any details you’d like to give for any part of “monday”! it still has not left my brain and would love to just let you talk about it if you’d like!!! <3 -maddie

monday my sweet little baby. oh i have so much i could say about this one (that maddie hasn''t already heard)

in many ways i consider monday to be the sister-fic to salt the earth, in the sense that they were both born from me having wayyyy too in-depth headcanons about carlos and tk's teen years. everything i wrote about carlos's past already existed in my noggen; i just needed an excuse to use it.

i had the idea for the present-day story while watching an episode of the x-files* (02x05, duane barry). in that episode, mulder in sent in to help with a hostage situation with gunman who insists that he's been abducted by aliens, but when mulder gets in there, he ends up sympathizing with him. that was my basic concept. from there it was easy to connect moments from carlos's past to moments in this story, since his whole life has really been one endless refrain: is carlos the thing that gets killed (buddy), or the thing that does the killing (his father)?

buddy is a mirror for carlos, who is a mirror for dennis, who is a mirror for buddy. carlos could not save buddy from the false idea of the mercy kill, and he could not save dennis. he and the audience are both left wondering if he will ever save himself. (the same can also be said for the rigid expectations of masculinity, which saw buddy sent to the rodeo, and dennis brought to the brink of insanity.)

emmett is obviously a mirror for tk, but both really represent the concept of queerness overall. carlos was afraid of disappointing his father, so he denied his own queerness and lost emmett. in the present, he chooses to defy washington (who is a mirror for gabriel. stay with me now.) and chooses to go after tk. so we see some growth there, although ultimately the result is the same. someone always gets hurt, everyone is someone else's victim. he can never save the cow, who is dennis, who is himself.

this is why i called the fic monday (*incidentally, there's also an episode of the x-files called monday, which is the time-loop episode, so you could say my inspiration really carried through). monday is the first day of the week, the cycle beginning again. and carlos's whole life is one big cycle. it's a time loop starting over again every time he doesn't save the cow.

[come-hell-or-high-water]

After a relatively easy pregnancy, it was finally time for Frances to give birth. One early morning she started having contractions. Her maid helped support her and even though Frances would rather that her mother was there, she was a great help.

Charles stayed out of it all. He wasn’t even remotely interested in childbirth and was mostly annoyed by the screams that echoed through the great house. The birth continued for hours until everything suddenly went quiet. 

To Frances' surprise, she gave birth to not one but two babies - one boy and one girl. They had blond hair just like their father and looked very similar to one another. The only thing that separated them was the colour of their eyes. She gave them the names Charlie Duane Calloway and Esther Vera Calloway.

[musicmags]

[book--brackets]

Round 1 Day 1 Update

First of all, thank you so much for this crazy amount of support! I never thought this poll would get so big in a single day. Here are some major updates through this first 24 hours:

I am compiling a list of potential books to be included in future polls. Those polls will not start until this one is over. Anyone can submit, but please check the guidelines and what is currently on the list, which you can find in my pinned post.

I am getting a lot of asks with people submitting books. If you don't want to see those on your dash, block the tag 'submission', but also let me know if that isn't specific enough. I know it's a lot, and I'm sorry for spamming! I'm also going to be working on tagging more in-depth since things should be winding down.

Now, about the poll itself, I've got some fun number-related updates under the break!

Poll 1

In a crazy upset, Pegasus is leading against Harry Potter 75% to 25%! This is absolutely insane, considering their numbers when I decided these placements.

Poll 2

To no one's surprise, Narnia is beating Pixie Hollow by a whopping 50%. However, there's been a lot of support for the underdog, so we'll see where the next week takes us.

Poll 3

Matilda is demolishing The Unwanteds 80% to 20%. I thought Matilda would be leading, but not so extremely!

Poll 4

Artemis Fowl and Wings of Fire are in a very close race with a less than 2% difference. There's been fierce campaigning on both sides, and I can't wait to see the result.

Poll 5

Oz is beating Keys to the Kingdom, which I could've guessed, but there are more votes for Keys than I thought! It's great to see since it's a personal favorite of mine. This one also has some of the least votes overall, so go give it some love!

Poll 6

The Mysterious Benedict Society is going strong against Charlie Bone, but there's been some real effort on the CB side to try and pull things back.

Poll 7

Another one with fewer votes overall, but there's a lot of campaigning going on. Both Land of Stories and 39 Clues have some devoted fans!

Poll 8

In perhaps the most contentious poll, Redwall and Warriors are duking it out. Warriors is currently leading 55% to 45%, but it's been back and forth.

Poll 9

In a very pleasant surprise (for me) EFC is currently beating Gregor. It isn't neck-and-neck, but there's still plenty of time for either side to take it.

Poll 10

Perhaps the most intense poll so far is between KotLC and Ranger's Apprentice. There's been lots of support from both sides, though Ranger is leading by 20% right now.

Poll 11

The most surprising to me, Sisters Grimm has a hefty lead of 40% on SGE, completely unexpected considering SGE's recent movie and publicity.

Poll 12

WtMMtM is struggling against City of Ember right now, but I've seen some support for it spreading.

Poll 13

In an insane turn of events, the author of Young Wizards, Diane Duane, reblogged the poll, turning Ella Enchanted's hefty lead into one of a mere 4%.

Poll 14

As this is the We-Love-Howl-Pendragon website, Howl's Moving Castle is beating TotFP in the second-largest lead overall.

Poll 15

Dragon Slippers is losing sorely against A Wrinkle in Time, but the gap isn't as huge as before. They've made it to around a 25-75 split.

Poll 16

To no one's surprise but many people's chagrin, Percy Jackson is solidly in the lead against Guardians of Ga'Hoole. However, both sides are seeing significant support.

That's all for now! The next update will be on Day 4!

[therecordchanger62279]

     There’s the Mount Rushmore that everyone knows about in South Dakota, but if you watch sports talk shows, a popular topic these days is to ask the talking heads for their Mount Rushmore of the four best in a particular area of sports. It might be teams, or players at a specific position, or it might be coaches.

     It’s an interesting discussion most of the time because choosing the four best in any field can be somewhat daunting. We don’t do sports here, but I thought it might be interesting to apply the Mount Rushmore discussion to music. So, what I’ve done below is choose those I think belong on a Mount Rushmore of Performers, Songwriters, Vocalists, Guitarists, Pianists, Drummers, and Bassists. I didn’t limit myself to any genre because I listen to all kinds of music. I simply chose those artists I think most highly of; artists I listen to because they make a personal connection with me when I hear them.

     In the case of songwriters, however, I broke the category down into three sections. The first is for composers – those who compose the music. The second is for lyricists – those who write the words. And the final songwriter category is for both music and lyrics. I find those who write songs for a living are often better at one thing than another. Maybe the music is wonderful, but they don’t write lyrics, or they aren’t as adept at lyrics as they are at music. Some lyricists are amazing, but many have difficulty when it comes to writing a great melody. Of course, there are some songwriters who’ve mastered both sides of the craft in mostly equal measure. So, to be fair, I made separate categories.

     I claim no particular expertise here. The only musical gift I possess is a great pair of ears. But for this, that’s all I need. Rather than question my choices, you might ask, instead, who you would choose, and why. If nothing else, it will define what you value most when you listen to music. (The names are listed in no particular order.)

PERFORMERS

     Bruce Springsteen

     Tina Turner

     Mick Jagger

     David Bowie

VOCALISTS

     Frank Sinatra

     Barbra Streisand

     Linda Ronstadt

     Gladys Knight

PIANISTS

     Yuja Wang

     Chick Corea

     Thelonious Monk

     Keith Jarrett

GUITARISTS

     Jeff Beck

     Duane Allman

     Carlos Santana

     Frank Zappa

BASSISTS

     Ron Carter

     Paul McCartney

     Jaco Pastorius

     Chris Squire

DRUMMERS

     Charlie Watts

     Ringo Starr

     Bill Bruford

     John Densmore

SONGWRITERS (MUSIC)

     Brian Wilson

     Paul McCartney

     George Gershwin

     Randy Newman

SONGWRITERS (LYRICS)

     Bob Dylan

     Chuck Berry

     Paul Simon

     Jim Morrison

SONGWRITERS (MUSIC & LYRICS)

     Carole King

     John Lennon

     Joni Mitchell

     Smokey Robinson

[aloysiavirgata]

For all of the anons who have asked for more in The Fisher King universe, here you go. New chapter below, main fic linked.

***

A man takes a woman and she disappears. It’s an old story.

The media will tell you she’s pretty, always. Sometimes she is and sometimes she isn’t, but she’s given the grace in her tragedy.

Dana is, though. In the way of Celtic priestesses and Roman goddesses and Renaissance women so achingly beautiful they were allowed to let their hair flow like corn. Like gold. Like rivers.

She has cheekbones like granite hillsides in winter.

Like Persephone in spring.

***

“She’s dead,” says the Captain. Says Margaret. Says Bill. Charlie calls with non-committal love from from Venezuela. Charlie calls with non-committal love from Norway.

If she’s alive she’s raped. She’s tortured, she’s broken But Catholics love the sanctified dead.

“She’s alive,” says Melissa, over an uncut celadon nested in a swirl of tarot cards..

Tara looks away in disgust. In fear.

****

Duane Barry was Mulder’s own particular monster, his brother in arms and paranoia.

An empty place in him wants to welcome Barry, wants him to fill the lacuna of Samantha. He imagines smoothing neatly over him, like spackling drywall.

But Barry takes Dana and, that, Mulder cannot forgive. He wants to hurt Barry for a long time in a way that they discuss in hushed awed voices after battlefield frenzies. He wants all of Barry’s insides on the outside, twitching and wet.

He gathers Dana’s animals to him, brings them into his home. He strokes their fur in his bed, he loves their angled predators’ faces that, like his, have eyes at the front of their heads.

***

Mulder fucks a suspect with the mindless short term satisfaction of scratching a mosquito bite until it bleeds. He hates himself and god, it’s good, the hating. He fucks her below the pagan sun and the Captain’s god and dares the universe to punish him. It’s a ripped hangnail, it’s his tongue against a toothache, it’s boxer briefs against a hardon at his desk.

He suffers with relish and, like most of the Scullys, he believes that his suffering will provoke tenderness from the universe. He bites the golden cross like an X-ray plate.

He wonders if anyone can see inside him at all.

***

He claps Bill on the back at the airport. He kisses Tara’s silky cheek, smells her knockoff Chanel #5.

Bill looks at him like a boy at Christmas, like Mulder’s the Grownup and can promise him everything.

“I love my sister,”. Bill says, as though it’s a shibboleth.

“So do I,” Mulder replies.

It’s the first time he talks about someone else’s sister and means it.

***

She turns up at the hospital like a message in a bottle. She is soft and pale and bloated and alive. He kisses her cheek like a Torah. He kisses her cheek like the earth of his true homeland.

***

Mulder holds a vigil for her as though she’s bound to Yggdrasil. Nine days and nine nights and perhaps she’s gained all knowledge. Perhaps she understands the runes.

Or maybe he does - who is the sacrifice and who is the sacrificed? Odin, spear-pierced, died for himself like Dana’s own god.

Melissa holds her sister’s hand. She holds his hand too, at the same time, her mass of red hair like ivy in the fall. She murmurs nothingness to the cold white stone of the moon.

“The moon is female,” Melissa confides to him at 2 AM over cheap wine and shrimp fried rice. “She’s the spiritual mother-guardian off all women.”

He says that he agrees, because it’s as true as any other fucking thing.

Margaret’s gaze is the sky before a shuttle launch, the Captain’s handshake the last thing you feel before your soul is ferried across the Acheron and the Styx.

Odin gave up his eye for the deep knowledge. Mulder would give up his eye for surety of her safety. He’ll give up both for what he brought to her. He understands why people suffer for communion with their gods now.

He understands why they surrendered hearts to bleed down the stones. He understands that prayers are a way to articulate fear.

***

Dana opens her eyes like a Marian apparition.

“Mulder?” she says, frowning.

He feels her voice the way magnets feel true north. “Hi,” he breathes, after days of planning the perfect response for this moment.

She blinks. “Did I fall asleep?” she mumbles. “Where are we? What happened?”

He kisses her knuckles, the delicate papyrus inside of her blue-tinted wrist. He marvels at the engineering of her thumb.

“You took a nap,” he says, rather breathless. Rather choked.

“Mmmm,” Dana says. She laces her fingers through his, she curls onto her side. She takes in the hospital room, frowning.

Then she seems to remember. “Ohhhh,” she whispers, eyes wide. “Am I okay?”

He nods. “Nothing serious.”

Mulder watches her breathing, watches her come back to life. He’ll press the call button in a moment, will alert the cavalry. He will make the Appropriate Telephone Calls.

Through the open blinds he sees the moon peer in. He says a prayer of thanks to its blank silver face, just in case Melissa is right.