#I wanted to draw off the string Sig. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ghostlycoze · 7 months ago

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[BURSTS THROUGH THE DOOR]

It has taken me PAINFULLY long to finally reply to this bc I wanted to write the Best Reply and ended up getting suuuuper distracted for ages, my bad!! No longer shall I let this slip my mind, time to word-dump! Hopefully it's somewhat coherent.

But WAHHH, another load of absolutely amazing headcanons! I love getting to read your ideas, and the drawings along with them are unbearably cute ;w; I'm so happy I could inspire you!

I've actually developed a few sleep (and cuddle) related ideas for these lil guys of my own that I'd love to add~

Biiiig ol ramble under the cut!

So generally, I imagine attached-to-can (atc?? ATC = attached to can, OTS = off the string? Yeah, that might make this easier :P) are far less prone to exhaustion than OTS iterators, though still can become tired and need rest! Much like your sleep-mode idea, they probably do need to sleep now and then otherwise their systems start to slow in efficiency—being semi-organic, their symptoms would be similar to ours. Drowsiness, lack of focus, lack of precision and speed, forgetfulness, etc etc etc... Also the lights in their chamber subconsciously begin to dim, their halos shrink and spin slower, their antigravity is less stable... And that tiredness shows through their internal organisms as well! The neuronflies are less active, the inspectors are far less thorough in their protocols... They're probably far more prone to illness because of this as well (which is a WHOLE other can of beans I am cracking open one day when I delve into the lore of my OC No Rhyme or Reason >:3). So, they need to rest, and their overseers likely project these low-power warnings to them.

That being said, when OTS, their symptoms double for two reasons.

Because I personally don't imagine their overseers remain attached to them beyond severing their connection to their wire—much like how Moon's go rogue post-collapse—their symptoms grow stronger, similar to that of organic beings, since they have no external system to warn them of their exhaustion. My FAVOURITE little idea is that they learn to "yawn"! An iterator yawn is more akin to a stretch and a deep breath, but it has that similar "exhaustion washes over you" feeling; stretches, antennae flutter like how cats' ears do when they stretch, they probably get all slow-blinky, etc... Also, YAWN BEEPS. Sleepy little "boop boop boop..." noises when their energy is low. Oh, it's SO cute.

I imagine since they have significantly less power with the lack of a can, they are far more prone to becoming exhausted as well! So instead of just being "a little sleepy" a couple cycles, they're EXHAUSTED after one or two, and fall into the pattern of "hibernating" with their scug-companions at each end of a cycle like you said! :D

Moon in particular I agree gets the beepiest, given her older age; and since I HC Suns came after her and is quite old as well, tends to get quite beepy as well! On the other hand, Sig and Pebbles are less prone to exhaustion and beepiness, given their higher processing power thanks to their younger age (although to make up for the lack of beepiness when tired, I like to think those two are more prone to getting beepy when emotionally overwhelmed! They feel their emotions far stronger than Moon and Suns, and almost go completely nonverbal and beepy when it gets to be too much to handle).

...I have never said the word beepy so much in my life.

The slurred speech and sleepy beeps idea is soooo cute though, and Moon (and Pebbles) curling up like a slugcat is PERFECT. I have a fair few more HCs for Sig and Suns to go with them!

Sig I see as likely the "sloppiest" iterator (a human Sig would rarely make his bed, lmao) thanks to her "carefree" and jokster side of his personality, and probably sleeps in a sprawled manner to reflect that! Sig just sorta... flops onto whoever she cuddles, or acts as a pillow for them. For an extra cute idea, the sprawl may be contagious; Sig and Moon have woken up a few times completely tangled. Moon gets quite embarrassed for sleeping in such an incomposed manner.

Suns on the other hand I could see as more of a stomach sleeper, especially as my personal design (...that I haven't drawn yet) has large spines along their back, which might make back-sleeping a little uncomfortable. When these four sleep-pile in a shelter, Suns is always laying on the bottom face-down, with the others cuddled on top. However if it's a one-on-one (or, as an iterator-polycule shipper, with Suns x Sig x Pebs, a 3-way-snuggle), Suns will sleep on their side and spoon whoever they're with. Being the tallest, they're always the big spoon!

Pebbles I feel like is the most "insecure" about sleeping, much like you portrayed! He's fallen asleep sitting up/slumped against the shelter wall a few times while stubbornly refusing to let himself curl up and get comfy, not wanting to look like "some little animal". Eventually the other 3 pick up on this and start dragging him into cuddles to make sure he sleeps without waking up with a sore neck; Suns pulls Short-Shit Pebbles into their arms and basically wraps around him with ease, Moon curls up hugging him (and you must NOT wake the Moon when she's comfy!), and Sig just... Lays on him. There's no moving that sleepy lump, Sig is one stubborn lil fella.

As for how they wind down... I actually have had some little ideas, mainly focused on Pebbles and Moon!

Pebbles: Since he's so sleep-averse for a while, the other three discover a trick to help him wind down. Absolute infodumping! It's sort of a way to get the last of his energy through getting him excited and rambly about things he likes; whether it be arguing about ancient artists, or later their theories on slugcat-culture, etc etc). Eventually his arguments and well-structured verbal-dump essays turn to mumbly little remarks, and that's when they know they've successfully tuckered him out.

Moon: She requires a more gentle, comforting approach to help her wind down. Much like your idea, I imagine she has a lot of trauma regarding the rain, as well as her collapse. I like to think iterators CAN have nightmares, and she is quite prone to nightmares centering around these traumatic events. As such, Sig and the others often cuddle and comfort her to ease her anxiety before rest, and bring up more lighthearted subjects to take her mind off of it in an attempt to prevent those nightmares from occurring and help her sleep peacefully.

Sig: I imagine Sig is quite an energetic lil thing, and can also be quite prone to being understimulated. As such, I like to think the others all pitch in to try to find ways to help him wind down. Pebbles and Sig probably bicker n wrestle which ends in them both being tuckered out, while Suns and Moon take more gentle approaches. A while back I had the cute idea of Moon doing the kind of exercises you see in sleep-asmr, like "follow the light" and such, by tilting her head back and forth and having Sig watch the lights on her antennae with a "counting sheep" sort of effect, as well as "breathing" (Sig much prefers using the organic term breathing over ventilation, as she's far more attuned to the fact they're BIO-mechanical) exercises to slow his systems and move closer to sleep-mode.

Suns: They're the toughest for me, as I'm still working out the kinks in how I see their personality. Given the only bit of Suns we see in-game is when they're mid-panic-attack, their true personality is very much up to interpretation and headcanon. Though, they've always given me a gentle-giant energy, not the sharpest with emotions but is far from apathetic; they're actually quite a little softie, given how they behave with Spearmaster. I like to think Suns eases their mind by petting Spears like a little therapy-cat, and maybe reading old pearls or drawing with/watching Spearmaster draw on the floor and walls. I feel like the little messenger picked up the artistic habit from Suns themself, so it could be a therapeutic way they wind down!

Ooh, and one final little idea to add: Iterator Game Night!

Now, this is an idea I actually developed with @mewniemoon , where if the iterators CAN still use their overseers after going OTS, they use them to play little board games before hibernating, as they need not hibernate the whole time, there's no hunger they need to avoid by slowing their metabolism and yada yada... So, to pass the time, they play games, sort of like how Moon and Pebbles play something like dominoes after Rivulet restores Moon's strength with the rarefraction cell.

Now, Iterator Game Night is fun because it lets the four show their more playful and competitive sides. Sometimes they play games where they're in teams against one another, and switch up the teams now and then. Suns and Moon are more calm, and willing to let the others win, while Pebbles and Sig are VERY competitive and WILL argue if another plays dirty (which they both do). But what's extra fun is when Suns and Moon get competitive.

They start calm, but as game nights go on, eventually those two start trying more, and on one night when Moon is particularly tired (here is where your "Moon will say something completely out-of-left-field comments when she's tired" idea perfectly aligns with mine!) and throws a "YEAHHHH, TAKE THAT!" after winning against Suns (who is one of, if not the best at these games, having spent a lot of their time teaching and playing these games with Spears). All 3 are stunned, and then get really into it; "oh it's ON now!" Suns and Pebbles play on a team and win, and the two are both acting like they're "godlike in comparison" at monopoly. Sig and Moon win, and when Moon throws some snarky remark at her little brother (which she later apologises for after getting a little too competitive), Sig thinks he's fallen in love with her all over again.

The slugcats will also sometimes try to join, though to varying degrees. Artificer gets frustrated easy and ragequits (much like Pebbles) when she doesn't understand these silly robot game rules, Hunter insists on playing but refuses to follow the rules because she's a cheeky little thing ("learned from the best!" - Sig), Rivulet tries her best but... Isn't great at it, being a little less intelligent than Hunter and Spears as a wild slugcat, meanwhile Spears is surprisingly good for a slugcat! There's been times Spears plays with them, and receives SO much praise from Suns when they make a particularly clever move in chess!

Alright, I have infodumped juuuuust a little, but I hope some of my silly ideas can further inspire you, or just be entertaining to read! I really appreciate the interaction, hopefully it didn't come off like I was ignoring this post at all. Joyous ADHD and time-blindness, I hadn't thought I'd left this as long as I had! Regardless, I always appreciate the mentions and invitations, an excuse to go on about my huuuge hyperfixation on these silly little iterators and slugcats is a blessing :]

RW Headcanon: Goodnight, Moon

AHHH YESSSS, now that that Lilypad essay is done I can FINALLY share these—!

Hey, @ghostlycoze! So you remember a few months ago how I made that drawing acting on the Moon beepsnort headcanon, and how in my last reblog I eluded to the possibility of drawing out some of your headcanons again? Well, it looks like that time has come, and this time I've got not just drawings, but lots of additions to another headcanon of yours!

This time, it's from your tags in these three posts, which I also saw a while ago! Yet for some reason I began thinking about it again recently, and as is my nature with ideas I like, I decided to develop it further, and even draw it this time!

Also, just to preface, you'll see I did a bunch of notes beside the actual drawings as well. I'll share the picture and roughly type out the notes (in case my handwriting is a bit hard to read) as well as whatever info I couldn't fit on the page. Some of the text also just says "robots" rather than "iterators" because some of these ideas are stuff I actually imagine applying to robot characters in general! Maybe I'll make a post on that someday...

With all that out of the way though, the actual headcanon is under the cut! Hope you like it!

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What are iterators like when they’re sleepy? Do they even get “sleepy” the way we humans do? This headcanon answers that question with a focus on the iterators’ puppets. Much of this info is also framed in the context of a hypothetical “worm-off-the-string” scenario, since I believe that’s the main situation where sleep and getting tired would actually matter to the iterators.

Firstly, when iterator puppets are low on power, until they find a place to recharge they usually enter a power-saving state where, to conserve what’s left of it, their energy is temporarily redirected away from some of their less-important processes. The side-effect of this, however, is that iterator puppets show symptoms of drowsiness kinda like humans! Whereas humans may yawn, stretch, or rub their eyes when sleepy, iterators will often make sloppier/less precise movements, close their lenses a little, and may even have a harder time thinking, since they sometimes shut off some processors and other cognitive functions until they can recharge. The most common symptom, however, is slurred speech, coming from less power given to their speech-forming software.

Another very-common sign of iterator sleepiness is frequent beeping, often in place of words. This is because, like slurred speech, beeps take much less energy and processing to make than analyzing data, formulating a complex response, then vocalizing it clearly. Beeps are thus far more efficient for conveying simple emotions and reactions than words. Looks to the Moon in particular gets super beepy when she’s tired because she and other early models relied more on beeps for communication — they were made back when things like vivid emotion weren’t as taboo in Ancient society, and iterators were meant to be more friendly and openly interactive with their citizens — so she’s more used to beeping to easily express her emotions.

As a side-note and mini-headcanon (wow, real headcanon-layering action here), while even the newest iterator puppets can beep, the older iterator models, as a result of this design influence, also have a much greater “beep-vocabulary” with a wider range of sounds that shrunk with the generations. Their beeps are thus a lot more expressive as well, with some sounds even being similar in nature to animal noises or regular speech! I imagine the entire range of their beeps would closely resemble shorter versions of the “droidspeak” sounds of the astromechs in Star Wars.

But, back to sleepy iterators.

When it’s hibernation time, iterators enter a “sleep-mode”, where almost all of their systems are shut down and recharging becomes the primary objective. However, compared to how I imagine other robots, iterator puppets have a unique way of recharging. Rather than shutting off completely and absorbing power from an external source, iterator puppets have a few key systems within them that remain on even during sleep-mode. These systems, just like those in their superstructures, are capable of converting nutrients into power directly. They emit a soft, rather comforting whirr while the puppets sleep — the only sound iterators make while sleeping, and comparable in nature to stomach sounds during digestion. Otherwise, though, the only other systems remaining on during sleep-mode are a few basic senses, and a program that decides when to “wake up”. The presence of this program also means, uniquely to iterators again, they can wake up on their own, rather than having to be powered back on by someone else like other robots. Overall, these systems are yet another aspect of iterator designs that make them far more biological than many iterators (*cough* *cough* Pebbles *cough*) would like to admit. And in my imaginings of a “worm-off-the-string” AU, systems like these are one of the main sources of both physical and internal conflict for these characters.

Also, since most of their systems are off during sleep mode, iterators sleep, both figuratively and literally, like statues. Whatever position they fall asleep in is the position they remain in the entire time unless a.) someone moves them or b.) they wake up and move on their own. This also means (unfortunately, if you thought these ideas would be cute) that iterators do not snore, shift around, sleepwalk, sleep-talk, or dream while in sleep mode.

That’s about it for this headcanon as it applies to iterator puppets overall. Now, I’m gonna get into how I imagine Looks to the Moon specifically likes to sleep.

In addition to getting very beepy, Moon also gets very cuddly when sleepy, though some of this comes from her affectionate personality. However, it's also due to a lasting trauma from her collapse. Of course she's learned to tolerate the rain over time, yet after spending so many cycles being rapidly drowned over and over in her can — with endless disorientation and senses so out-of-control from being disconnected from most of her superstructure, no one around to comfort her save for the occasional wandering creature, and the knowledge that her own beloved brother was responsible for this — it’s still left a fair amount of bad memories with her, especially from those cycles most recently after her collapse/revival, and this general unease often resurfaces with the sound of the rain. Therefore, whenever the rain comes, this trauma serves as another, more internal reason Looks to the Moon always wants to fall asleep holding onto/being held by someone, or at the very least while sharing the shelter with someone she loves.

On a more positive note, since I’m now officially a Lilypad shipper, I imagine that No Significant Harassment is Moon’s default choice of cuddling partner! It can be a little hard to get in position — I imagine Moon always likes to be the little spoon despite her being slightly taller than him — but they manage! Moon pretty much always falls asleep first, because, as the oldest model of the group, and having sustained the most damage post-collapse on top of that, she simply doesn’t use power as efficiently as the others do and therefore gets tired much more easily. In some ways, the poor thing even feels a little guilty about it; she’s supposed to be the leader of this group, and yet here she is, tiring out after less travel and growing drowsy before the rain even starts! Luckily, Sig makes an effort to ensure her she’s more-than worth keeping around, because after every awful thing the world has thrown at her kindness, the least she deserves is some quality guilt-free nap time! And sometimes, if they want a little alone-time (or if Pebbles gets too fed-up with their lovey-dovey gestures), it’ll be just the two of them, and perhaps their slugcats, cuddling together in the shelter.

And speaking of slugcats, Moon’s second choice of cuddles is Rivulet! Being very soft, warm, and equally cuddly, she makes another good source of cuddles for Moon. And sometimes, if Hunter’s also around and willing, the two join forces with Sig and Hunter for a big, soft, cuddle-filled slumber party!

Still, though, Sig is definitely no. 1 provider of snuggles for Moon. But he loves her dearly, so for the most part he doesn’t mind! Since she falls asleep first, some of his favorite moments each cycle are from just watching her and holding her close as the rainfall echoes from outside; she always looks so beautiful when she’s relaxed, and having her in his arms makes him feel like he can protect her no matter what. So he never really minds when Moon, slurring her words, tiredly asks for him to hold her while she enters sleep mode.

That is, except when this happens and he’s stuck in that spot for the next several hours…

A few more ideas to this headcanon:

Moon’s third choice of cuddles is Five Pebbles. It’s a bit interesting, because in basically all other scenarios Pebbles insists on sleeping alone in a separate shelter, even though he’s actually rather touch-starved (though it'll be a while before he admits it). Moon is one of the only people he’s actually willing to sleep with, besides occasionally Artificer (in which the feeling is mutual and no one else must be in the room). If I someday decide to ship Pebbles with someone, I imagine he’d also be willing to sleep with them, again, only if no one else is around to see it.

To elaborate on the last point and shift to Five Pebbles’ perspective, the reason why Pebbles always wants to sleep alone is because, as I imagine the worm-off-the-string story so far, Pebbles’ biggest internal conflicts are learning to accept all those “worldly attachments” the Ancients so strongly rejected, and overcoming his god-complex and fear of relying on others. And one of the main ways this manifests is him being so deeply embarrassed to be dealing with these basic survival needs — like yet another one of the savage beasts roaming the world, after having been a vast mechanical god so far above those primitive creatures — that he refuses to let others, even his friends and family, observe him in such a “pitiful” state whenever possible, and resolves to try and overcome it alone.

To further continue this idea, this is why Moon sometimes insists on sleeping with him. Even though he’ll have to overcome these conflicts on his own, it doesn’t mean he has to be alone while he does it. She makes an effort during these and other moments in this scenario to assure him that it’s okay, no one’s gonna judge or punish him for living this way, and she’ll always be there if he ever decides to accept some help. Pebbles always falls asleep with his head buried in her chest and holding onto her very tightly.

The iterators often like to sleep with their slugcats, who in the AU also stick around a lot to help guide them as they figure out the ins-and-outs of organic survival.

Both Moon and Pebbles tend to sleep in a curled position. It's actually very similar to how slugcats generally sleep!

Pebbles is quite the workaholic in general, but it also means he has a hard time falling asleep — not because he doesn’t get sleepy, but rather that he often denies it or its significance in an attempt to get more done that cycle (and because, again, he’s “too advanced” for animalistic things like sleeping). The group often has to literally drag him to bed to get him to sleep, and Sig often teases him when his lenses start drooping and his syllables begin to stretch.

In extreme cases, where almost all of their power has been exhausted, iterators won't just slur their words anymore, but their speech will often lose coherency overall, like a spoken case of very drunk typing .

When sleepy, Moon not only slurs her words, but has a tendency to say rather strange and very silly things. It’s another side-effect of less power being used to actually think through her words. There have been many instances where the whole group erupted in laughter after Moon made a really out-of-left-field comment!

Oh, and here's one last quick doodle based off one of the ones above:

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Aaaand that's all for another headcanon! Even though it took me a whole week to do the drawings, it was SO fun getting to develop this idea, especially since sleepy Moonie is such a cute concept! I am so glad that you shared that little idea, Ghost!!

And speaking of which, if you've made it all the way down here, Ghost, may I invite you to add any more ideas to all this, if you want? I'd especially love hearing ideas for the other iterators' sleeping habits (how fast they get tired, what position they like to sleep in, who they usually sleep with, how they wind down before bed, etc.)! I mainly focused on Moon and a bit of Pebbles at the end, since I'm still trying to get a read on Sig and Suns's personalities (especially Suns), so it'd be fun to even further expand on this idea in that regard! Of course, you don't have to, but it's a proposition!

But regardless, I hope you and anyone else who made it to the bottom enjoyed my contributions to the idea! And be sure to keep the adorable headcanon ideas coming!!

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Bonus: Here are the full sketchbook pages, in case anyone was interested in seeing the completed layout! I think I'm gonna be making more of these kinds of drawing/explanation combo artworks!3

#ghost rambles #ghost reblogs #quetzalli tag #thank you so much for tagging me with all these cute ideas!! i'm always happy to continue our fun lil bouncing-headcanons-off-each-other :D #rainworld #looks to the moon #no significant harassment #five pebbles #seven red suns

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childish-ish · 4 years ago

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my mom wont let me get anymore monster :\

pairing: billy lenz x reader

aha, part two of that last one. also im not very good at part 2s if you can't already tell, anywas for uhhhhh @walt25 this is for u chief

also sorry again if i butchered his fucking uhh personality, its how i now write him lmfao,,, him talking in fucking..... 3rd pov hehe.

requests open....,,,, pleaase,,,,, request a slasher... ...

also michael x reader and jason x reader fics coming soon lmfao.

You had to be an absolute fucking idiot to not notice the signs.

I mean - you didn't notice it at first, because you are an absolute fucking idiot - but then you actually saw something - someone, rummaging around in the fridge.

Like any normal - sane person would, you quickly retreat to your room after seeing an unknown man in the kitchen. An actual man with frizzy untamed hair and all-black clothing, save for a dark green sweater. Did he even have shoes on? You didn't really care enough to actually stay and analyze the man.

Again, like any normal, sane person would do, you call the police. You didn't recognize the large body to be anybody of Kappa-Sig, so you immediately dialed the number of emergency - ahaha, just kidding!! You aren’t a fucking normal and sane person! What you do is actually get a camera and step out of your room.

Stepping down the stairs quietly in your socked feet - avoiding the creaky stairs.

Ah, but alas. Once you peek into the kitchen, the male was gone. You drop your camera - screeching in pain as the fucking thing lads on your goddamned foot. "FUCK!" You cried out, crouching and dropping to sit on your bottom.

The other girls were at school that day - some had free periods and doing whatever. You skipped. Knowing you would have to pay something to someone for skipping a singular day.

Later that same day - The Moaner called, shortly after you falling on your ass. You immediately crawled towards the front door and picked up the phone.

The conversation went something like this;

"what did you do to the baby, billy?"

"yeah what'd you do to the fucking baby, billy."

"where's anges, billy..?"

"ayo, wheres anges?! WHO THE FUCK IS ANGES??? you been cheating on me billy?? oh wait if you're mocking a voice of one of your parents - maybe even a babysitter or guardian. then.. anges is your sister. or friend?? dude o-m-g what im like, a detective doin' some detective work n' shit."

"y/n.. where's billy?" he asked in that wailing.. high-pitched voice.

"oh shit, you know my name? ion know bro.. wheres billy? wheres billy..?!" You repeat.

"billy knows what you did last night..." He spits into the phone. "pretty pink cunt. pretty cunt. pretty pretty pretty pretty..."

Anyways. You had called him a little bitch and he hung up. You guess if Billy really did know what you did, he would've had to be there to see it. Somewhere. LATER THAT DAY - Present time.

You had a little alone time despite being alone the entire day. you catch my drift?

You cleaned yourself up and had disposed of the towel you placed under yourself, not wanting to dirty or piss accidentally on your bed.

Soon, you were drawing on the floor, fucking around with waterpaints - when the goddamned phone rang. A string of curses fall from your lips.

As you took a single step outside your room, the ringing stopped for one moment, before starting up again.

Quickly, you step out fully and jogged down the hallway. Peering down the stairs to see a - well. That figure from earlier - from the kitchen. You take two steps down the stairs.

"AYO?" You shout, immediately putting up your defences. "you know, ive read about this somewhere." You narrow your eyes, squinting at the male.

"ayo - ayo chill." You take a stumbling step backwards as he twitched, falling onto your ass, your ankle rolling. You curse before peeking up -

"Oh FUCK - oh FUCK??" You realize, he was halfway up the stairs. Oh my fucking god, where were the goddamned other girls. School still? What time was it? Fuck you don't know.

"Billy.. Billy likes you. Billy likes pretty piggy. Pretty p - piggy cunt." He spits out the last letter.

"You know what Billy. I like you too. You're pretty chill." You let him come closer, dominate hand clenched in a fist by your side. You let him take a few steps closer. The deranged male looms over you. His peach.. sickly yellow skin. Crazy brown eyes peer into your own.

"billy knows what you're doing. billy doesn't like it."

You sweat under the pressure. "What the fuck - ?" You let the curse slip past by your lips as the male falls onto you. You scream in surprise as the male practically dry humps against your hips slowly.

Pushing him away, you hear the front door open.

"Y/n!" You recognize the voice as Barb. The male glares angrily into your eyes, a warning for something, then scrambled off you and quietly scuttles down the hallway. You wonder where he goes.

"Dude!" You shout out from the floor, before pushing yourself up. "Holy shit you would not believe what happened - " You pause immediately. You were sure he could hear you. You change the subject.

"Bro nevermind i’m going to sleep again don’t fucking bother me!"

"I'll tell the other girls then!" Barb called back. You see her wave lazily before she leaves your line of view.

You scrambled down the hallway, to your room.

Where this little goddamned fuck was fucking with your water paints. Once you had entered the room, his attention was solely on your figure.

"OI!" You whisper-shout. His eyebrows jump up in confusion. "Stop fucking with that!"

Billy leaps away, onto your bed. He bounces for a few moments before you drag your attention back to your paints. You immediately began to clean up.

Once finished, you turn your bitch-ass attention to little Billy.

“Billy. How’d you get in the house fool? Oh wait, if you were actually forreal rummaging through out fucking fridge then.. do you live here?”

“billy’s been here forever. billy doesn’t like sharing his house. billy likes you.”

“damn lmao. thanks chief. anyways don’t kill me or ill fucking fuck you over from the other side.”

“billy likes pretty piggy.” he said ferociously.

“cool. anyways,”

you begin to ramble on to the male, asking him questions here and there about why he was there and why the fuck didn’t he kill you, you got the same answers as before, going on and on as you lie next to the seated, criss-crossed legged male, an arm behind your head as you tell him about your favorite shit to do and such.

Soon, it was okay. Billy was chill enough to actually not kill you, he told you in broken words that he lived there like he fucking said before but you don’t listen lmfao, he had hung around you alot when you had gotten home from your classes, sometimes waking up to the male besides you when you wake - you had caught him watching you shower, and offered him a shower as well. With no hesitation, he stripped and hopped it, immediately groping your body as his tongue licked upon the skin on your neck. It was a weird - sexual yet friendly relationship. You literally had no idea where this was gonna go,

#slasher x reader #slasherslikebeetroot #billy lenz x y/n #slashers x reader #billy lenz x you #billy lenz x reader #billy the moaner x reader #billy the moaner #black christmas

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conaionaru · 4 years ago

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The drowned girl

Little Menace

Synopsis: What if Siggy never died and was raised by loving parents that cared for her and taught her the way of the Gods? What if the little Völva was raised by Floki and Helga (because fuck Bjorn!)

Warnings: canon divergence (duh), violence, past child neglect, child abandonment, bad parenting

I don’t own the gifs.

Bjorn looked at Floki and Helga, waiting for the good news to be said. If the boatbuilder kept his promise and built him the means to leave, Bjorn Ironside could sail to an unknown land and discover what no one had dreamt of.

"What do you say, Helga? What shall we tell him?" Floki mocked his tone, teasing, trying to drag the pretense on.

Bjorn looked at the kind blonde. "We think that it won't be long until you have boats ready and able to take you to the Mediterranean Sea!"

The Ragnarsson lit up at the information until Floki scoffed at the Viking's excitement. "If it exists."

"Of course, it exists!"

"It's just a map, Bjorn. Marks on a paper. A child could have drawn it." Floki cut him off, causing the younger boy to frown. "How can we know if it's real?"

"I learned from my father. The only way to tell if something is real..." He laid a small boat on in the water and pushed it away from the shore. "Is to sail there. I hope you'll come with me, Floki."

"Are you joking? The lure of an imaginary land. Traveling somewhere that doesn't exist?" Floki laughed in his mad way and grinned happily. "Of course, I am coming."

"And I hope you will come too, Helga." The blonde healer smiled at them, amused.

"Well, if Floki is mad enough to go, then I guess I will follow."

Bjorn cheered up at the answer, happy to know that his father's friends would be there to see him achieve his dream. What bothered him, though, was the silence. Something was off. "Where is she?" The tall Ragnarsson looked around them and up the trees, looking for a familiar face or shape. But he saw nothing.

"Went to collect some herbs a while ago," Helga explained, frowning at the relieved sigh the boy let out in return.

A girl in a long scarf sat by the shore, the dark teal fabric hiding her hair from the gentle breeze that swept by. Her bare feet were burrowed in the sand, while her hands held the scarf in a death grip.

The waves mercilessly hit the shore, washing away any imperfections from the sand. But the girl sat there, unmoving. If it wasn't for the rise and fall of her chest, she might have seemed dead. Her lips are in a thin line, a vertical stripe drawn down her chin, with another symbol between her eyes, strands of blonde hair sway in the wind around her face.

But the most shocking feature of this girl are her kohl-lined eyes, as white as milk, unblinking and unseeing. She appears to be in a trance, the world passing by her as she sits there—the calm before the storm.

Despite her ears being deaf to the world, she still heard voices, painful screams, and the hissing of snakes sounded in her head. She saw a snake curled around an arrow, drowning in a river of blood. She could feel the red liquid against her bare feet, wetting her dress.

A raven croaked over her head, drawing her from her state. With the blink of an eye, her white pupils changed to blue, the same shade as the waters before her. She looked up at the position of the sun and sighed in annoyance. With some difficulty, she rose to her feet with a bunch of flowers in one of her hands.

The blonde girl walked up a hill, pulling down the scarf from her head, her wild hair flying behind her in a fury. She sat upon the mountain, putting a bouquet of wildflowers on a small grave, pulling the weeds out, and tossing it away.

The painted girl patted the child's grave, lovingly, and sighed. "I would sing to you, but you have suffered enough, no? I am sailing away soon to Bjorn's imaginary sea. Don't miss me too much."

She left the hill, passing by some playing children and fishers who run around in excitement or got ready to work. She ignored the noise around her, striding towards her goal—the forge. The people around her gossiped with each other, the name of Ragnar Lothbrok falling from their lips. Apparently, the king returned to Kattegat after years of absence; she could care less.

An older woman glared at the young blonde, pulling her child behind her as if to protect it from a rabid animal. "Freak." She spat under her breath, glaring at the unbothered teen.

People avoided her like the plague as if she was no better than the thralls and cattle. Goats were more loved than her around the town. But she didn't care for their feelings, or them for the matter.

"Sigurd." She greeted the man who stood out the forge strumming his oud, humming a cheerful tune with a scowl on his face, trying to distract himself from his thoughts.

"Siggy." The Ragnarsson nodded at her, the lines on his forehead relaxing as he looked the blonde over. She carried herself in the usual swagger, her feet bare and eyes crazy. "Did you hear what happened?"

She snorted and plopped down next to him, taking the oud out of his hands and plucking at the strings with no talent or intention to play. It annoyed him when she used his things, so of course, she did it as often as possible. "Ragnar's back. I heard people curse his name. But do tell what he did."

Sigurd spat on the ground and glared at the dirt, making her stop messing around and look at him in question. "The settlement in Wessex was destroyed right after he left, which he knew of but did nothing! And now he came back, not to reunite with his family or apologize to his people. He wants to sail to England instead."

Siggy giggled at the explanation and jumped up, twirling around the support beam before dropping the music instrument in his lap and continuing her twirls. "He wants revenge like everyone does. People died because of him in every fight, so why are you angry that he wants people to die again? Tis nothing new, Sigurd."

He shook his head angrily before dismissing the issue and talking to her about more pleasant things. "I caught a fox. Do you want the pelt?"

Siggy shook her head, snagging an apple from a merchant's cart and then another one from another food stand. "Keep your lame pelts. I told you I want a bearskin!"

The Ragnarsson rolled his eyes at her and strummed his instrument as his niece stole another apple and juggled them cheerily, ignoring his stern look. "You shouldn't steal, Siggy! You have money!"

"You are the rich one, not me. And I am hungry." She snorted, catching the apple in her mouth midair, wiggling her thin eyebrows at him in a mocking manner.

It felt nice to be around each other without the pressure of Sigurd's bloodline around them. People avoided him when he was around Siggy, the girl too wild and violent for anyone to spend time with her. All but Sigurd were cautious about their words around her.

The Viking with the serpent in his eye was not afraid of her at all. In his eyes, she was the same as when they were children, his lonely friend. Siggy used to be too scared to leave the Great Hall, dirty and neglected by everybody.

"You should be nicer to me, anyway. I am leaving soon, you know? What if I never return? Would you miss me?" She joked dramatically, skipping around the dirty ground with her bare feet

"I suppose I would miss your shrill voice. The silence will be haunting." Sigurd said sarcastically, earning a punch on the shoulder from his niece.

Siggy giggled delightedly, the sound the same as the cackles Floki let out when happy. So much has changed since she was a child; the little blonde wasn't a child anymore; she was now a young woman hungry for adventure.

She was so happy when Bjorn announced that he is leaving to find the place on his map that she didn't even care that it meant going with him. Siggy wanted to see the world; she was an explorer, far too nosy and curious for her own good. But Sigurd supposed it was a family trait; she was just like Ragnar and Bjorn.

"Try not to kill him, Siggy."

"No promises, Sig." Throwing away the last apple core, she spoke to him in a serious tone, her hatred for her biological father obvious. Ragnar's eldest son was far too mouthy towards her, considering he is to blame for all her shortcomings. After all, Siggy wouldn't be an outcast and madwoman if he had been a better father to her.

Truth to be told, Siggy was happy with how her life turned out; she had Helga and Floki, she was sure they were far better parents than Bjorn could have ever been. She pitied his children with Torvi, the poor children were probably neglected, and their mother had to raise them independently. Otherwise, where was the fault if not in him as a father? He couldn't just hate her and love the rest of his children.

Helga and Floki loved her and treated her like their own, so she can't be the issue. Bjorn never cared to explain himself, and they avoided each other like the plague. Whenever he came to visit Floki, she left for the woods or to annoy the Ragnarsons.

Siggy parted ways from Sigurd, who left to train with his brothers. She needed to return home before Helga started to worry; the poor woman would go gray at this rate. Floki already said he was bald because of her and Ivar, which was a lie; it was all Ivar's fault; he was more annoying in her opinion.

"Siggy, there you are! Come help me stitch this sail." Helga called out to her adoptive daughter, smiling when she saw the girl safe and sound. She knew that Siggy could take care of herself, but ever since she lost Angrboða, she was worried about her. After all, the gods tried to take her once before, trying to drown her in the river when she was barely four years old.

Siggy was Helga's second chance at motherhood, maybe Floki didn't want a child anymore, but in the end, they got one anyway. Perhaps not of their blood, but Siggy was their daughter, even if not by name.

"Tighten it better and take your time; a good sail is not made in a day." She reminded the younger girl, watching her thin fingers work carefully. Siggy was skilled with sharp things, no matter if blade or needle. But she was always too restless for needlework; everytime, she started a piece and then ran off.

The two worked side by side in silence, while Floki carved details into the prow. It's supposed to be a bear head, meant to honor Bjorn. Siggy hoped it looked just a stupid as him, but knowing the boat builders' work, it would be beautiful.

"Did you pack your things?"

"Yes, Helga."

"All of them? Even the furs?"

"It's gonna be hot there. I don't need furs."

"You don't know that. Pack some just to be sure."

Siggy sighed and looked at her adoptive mother with a begging face. "Yes, Helga." The older blonde ignored the mocking tone and smiled in satisfaction.

Floki snickered behind them and dropped a bow and arrow in Siggy's lap. "Catch something big. We will sacrifice it to Thor later."

"Isn't Aslaug making a sacrifice?"

Floki shook his head and tapped her forehead with a pout on his lips. "This one is to give you more wits. I can't have you dying stupidly. Helga would kill me."

With a scoff, she slapped his hand away, ignoring his giggles as she went out into the woods. Hunting was always her favorite pastime, other than annoying people. The woods were silent; the gods guided her hands as she became a predator and came back covered in blood. What was there not to love?

Walking barefoot over the grass, Siggy enjoyed the serenity and quiet. It was nice to be surrounded by the woods where she grew up. Ever since she was four, the forest was a part of her home. Climbing the trees like a squirrel and gathering herbs with Helga or Aslaug was when she was happiest.

Despite her indifference to the Queen, she was thankful for her company. Aslaug taught her about her gift and how to use it, teaching her the bits that Floki lacked when it came to Völvas. The woman also gave birth to Sigurd, so that was a good thing too. It was also easier to forget that Aslaug left her to the thralls instead of raising her herself. With four children of her own and her husband away, Siggy was too much of a burden on her.

Sometimes when she was young and bored, she wondered what it would have been like living with the Ragnarssons and being raised in Kattegat instead of here. What she might have been like as Aslaug's granddaughter instead of her ward. But those were childish fantasies and a waste of time.

The snapping of a twig broke her train of thought. Siggy stopped in her track and sharpened her ears to any other sounds. Another noise followed, and a deer walked out behind a tree. The animal didn't notice her yet and happily ate, unaware of its upcoming doom.

Siggy drew her arrow and carefully aimed the weapon at the deer. A crow flew from the tree the moment the animal dropped to the ground. Siggy walked to the still twitching deer on the floor; an arrow ebbed in his chest.

"The gods will be happy; you are a pretty one." She grinned in victory and kneeled before the animal to pick it up. "Come on, don't be difficult." Narrowly missing a flailing antler taking out her eye, she threw the animal over her shoulder and carried it home. Humming a song tune Helga sang to her as a child, Siggy returned home only to hear a foreign voice talking to Floki.

Slowly she let the animal to the ground and climbed up a tree to watch the visitor from afar. He was bald with a beard and dressed in rags. But by the way, he talked to Floki and Helga; he must be an old friend.

A crow sat down on the branch next to her and croaked into her ear. "Shut up." The bird continued the persistent noise, only tilting his head as if to mock her. "Gods, you are more annoying the Ivar. Shoo. Shoo." The crow inched closer to her and cawed louder, right in front of her face. "Fuck off!"

"Stop bullying the birds and come down!" Floki's voice carried out from under the tree, causing the blonde teen to scoff. Leaping off the tall tree, Siggy landed in a crouch and picked herself up from the sandy ground. Making her way to Helga, Floki, and the stranger, Siggy sprinted to her seat by the fire. "What did you catch?"

"Deer."

Plopping down next to the stranger, Siggy leaned into his personal space to stare at his aged face that was pulled in a grimace. The blue eyes and quirky smirk were somewhat familiar to her but still a little bit foreign. "Nice to meet you."

"Stop harassing Ragnar. He is a visitor. Play nice for once, huh." Siggy frowned at the name that Floki spoke and leaned away from the once Greatest man alive.

"I imagined you taller. With more hair." She exclaimed, shrugging her shoulders and reaching for the plate with soup, ignoring the man who chuckled at her nonchalant statement.

Helga ruffled Siggy's hair affectionately and filled a bowl of soup for Ragnar as well. The older man thanked her and watched the young blonde female waiting for a name from her. "Don't mind Siggy; she isn't that fond of people."

Ragnar's eyes widened in slight shock at the name reveal. There was only one blonde Siggy, the girl's age that he knew. Bjorn's daughter Siggy - his granddaughter. He looked at Helga for her to confirm his suspicions, so the woman nodded in agreement.

He opened his mouth to tell her something, but the girl cut him off. "Don't bother. I don't care:"

"Siggy." Scolded Helga.

The younger female rolled her eyes and waved her hand while talking. "You told me not to tell lies. I am simply honest. I don't care what he has to say. Sigurd told me he is back and what he did. I could care less for either."

Floki snickered at her indifferent speech and smirked at Ragnar proudly. No matter if she was of Ragnar's blood, Siggy was more like Floki himself. Crazy with the touches of Helga in between.

"But if you touch any of my stuff, you will pay for it with your life, old man." Ragnar snickered at her statement and looked at her with a challenging glint in his eyes.

"What makes you think you could beat me?"

Siggy scoffed and counted on her fingers. "You are old, in pain from your wound. Meanwhile, I am young, fast, and know your weaknesses from Floki."

"Also stupidly brave and possibly suicidal."

Smirking at his remark, Siggy leaned into his face again and chuckled darkly. "Maybe. Or maybe I am certain that if I stabbed you in a dark corner, no one would come to your aid. Especially not your oldest son."

Ragnar grimaced at her truthful words and looked down at his hands that still held the bowl with soup. "You don't like Bjorn."

"For someone who has been away for a long time, you catch up quickly." She stood up from her seat and walked to the water to play with Floki's mini boats. "He is a lot like you, you know? A shit father just like you. You must be very proud."

"Siggy!" Helga scolded, apologizing for her daughter's behavior and running after her. "What happened today. You are being awfully mean today, Siggy."

The blonde snorted and pushed the model ship around the water.

The water created soft waves around the small boat, calming her earlier anger. "We will sail with Bjorn."

"You don't have to go if you don't want to. You could stay with Sigurd. I am sure he won't mind. Or I can stay as well. We could have some time alone and make some new dresses for us. I think yellow would suit you well."

Her reflection in the water looked pissed off. The tangled blonde hair and bright blue eyes of her biological father were a permanent reminder of who she really was. No face paint or mannerism could cover-up whose daughter she was. "I don't want a dress, Helga. I want to fight and have an adventure." Siggy hissed in anger and slapped the water, destroying her reflection. Helga jumped in surprise but calmed down when she saw Siggy's concerned look.

"Then what is the problem? You will be with Floki and me. You can talk to Hvitserk and other warriors. You don't have to talk or look at Bjorn at all." Helga whispered softly, stroking Siggy's dirty cheek tenderly. Closing her tormented eyes, Siggy sighed as if a weight was lifted from her shoulders.

"What matters is the adventure and the glory, not Bjorn. What matters is you, not them—none of them or their whispers." Siggy nodded and stood up to take a stroll.

"I will go for a walk. Meet you at the Hall for the celebration."

Helga watched the teen walk away solemnly. "Be careful!" Siggy waved her hand at her and left without looking back.

Running through the woods barefoot at dawn felt great. The birds were up and chipper while the rest of the world slowly woke up around her. Her blonde hair flowed behind her as she jumped into a puddle of mud and enjoyed the squishy feeling in between her toes.

"Come, the best trees are up here!" Called Floki hiking up the hill before them, passing other tall trees on the way.

Siggy runs behind him, touching every tree and remembering the textures of every bark. "Why not this one? It feels good."

Floki turned on his heel and circled around the tree in a weird dance before shaking his head. "No, no. Not good enough. This one needs more time. But when it gets older. I will make a pretty boat out of it."

Siggy pouted and hugged the tree in protest, pushing her face against the bark. "I like this one! Do something out of it, Floki! Pleaseeeee!"

The boatbuilder rolled his eyes and pried her from the tree. He held her by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes for a bit before chuckling in his peculiar way. "Both you and the tree will grow, and when you are both older, this tree will be the first plank for your very own boat."

Her blue eyes practically sparkled at the thought, and she grinned in excitement. All her earlier sadness and frustration were forgotten. "You will make me a boat? A real big one?"

Floki chuckled and continued his way uphill, Siggy climbing behind him. "Of course! Every voyager needs a ship."

"How do you know I will be a voyager?"

"I can see it in your eyes. You will sail all over the world and see many exciting things." Siggy grinned in victory and sprinted up the hill to a tall oak tree.

She hugged it and smirked down at Floki, who nodded in agreement and let her mark the tree with a knife. He would cut it down later when she was further away. First, they will need to find more trees. "Will people love me when I am older?"

He looked down at the hopeful eyes of his adoptive daughter and sighed. "People don't always love great men and women. They envy them as they envy the gods. Be true to the gods and yourself, and they will reward you."

Siggy opened her eyes, the milky white color fading from them. She sighed in annoyance and watched the waves move in the moonlight. The Great Hall was alive with drunken cheers and brawls, but she felt content by the shore.

When she returned home from her walk, Helga and Floki already left to join the celebrations, so she got ready alone. The pink dress that Helga made for her, especially for tonight, felt too delicate on her. How were those battle-hardened men supposed to fear her if she looked like a soft flower?

Siggy was anything but soft. Sigurd always said she was a hurricane with skin. Easy on the eyes but secretly dangerous. Men will still underestimate women; that was an unspoken rule that always pissed her off. They would respect her skinny mad genius of an adoptive father before they even thought about not treating her like an object. Of course, they will lose an eye or hand for that, but the audacity was still annoying.

Let them look at her and think her small, and then they will shit their pants when they see her beheading enemies. The day Siggy the Drowned settled for a peaceful life, Ragnarok would come. She is Viking and Vikings aren't to be disrespected or underestimated.

With one last sigh, Siggy turned on her hell and discarded her fur cloak to show off her bare arms to the horny eyes of the drunk people. Sigurd sat on a table near Aslaug, his brothers all around him. Floki and Helga talked to some foreigners on the other side of the Hall.

Merrily skipping towards them made the younger of the two foreigners look at her in curiosity. "You disappoint me, Floki. I wanted to butcher the deer myself."

"You snooze, you lose, Little Menace." The boatbuilder snickered and pulled her closer to show her off to his friends. "This is our daughter Siggy. These are King Harald and his brother Halfdan."

"Ah, yes. The conqueror and his shadow. I am a huge fan of how you take over one kingdom after another—the reason why is disappointing, though."

Harald and Halfdan both frowned in anger but said nothing back to her. Not even an hour here, and she already pissed off two people. At this rate, she would hit her personal record of how many people she can bug in a day.

"Be nice, Siggy. We are to sail with them to the Mediterranean." Helga softly scolded and shot Floki a glare when she saw him enjoying the exchange too much.

"You have a very unique daughter. I wouldn't expect anything else from you, Floki." Halfdan finally broke the silence looking the young teen over. Slightly unruly blonde hair, face paint, blue eyes with a crazy glint, and a pretty figure. The girl was the perfect mix of Helga and Floki.

"Have you ever raided before, Siggy?" Harald questioned her, causing her to shake her head in denial. "A first raid is a great way to prove yourself. I wish you luck in your battles, then. Let your first kill be easy."

"Who says I haven't killed before?"

Halfdan chuckled at the darkness in her gaze. The voyage won't be boring at all. "And how many did you kill then?"

"A few. People tend to anger me very easily and bleed out too fast."

"I like you, Siggy."

"A shame I don't like people."

#history vikings #vikings imagine #vikings #sigurd snake in the eye #sigurd ragnarsson #sigurd lothbrok #bjorn ironside #bjorn lothbrok #bjorn ragnarsson #siggy #siggy bjornsdottir #helg #floki #siggy lives

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thomasharpole · 3 years ago

Text

Jubilance - 7/28

A evening with the Dave Matthews Band in Tampa, FL

I am still trying to piece together and process what I experienced last night in the sweaty mess of a pit, watching some of the most talented, world-class musicians weave unforgettable songs and melodies together with us. The last 2 hours of this show amounted to the most powerful and most spiritual experience I’ve ever had seeing live music. Words, especially in English, fall short of my experience and don’t do it justice. It seems futile to write about it, and yet I want to preserve this night in my writing and internalize the lesson from last night as much as I can.

To stand so close at a show is something I had only done 10 years ago, but I wasn’t ready at the time to understand what I was seeing. As a musician, to watch these men last night, who I have now listened to for the better part of 20 years, genuinely felt like spending time with family or the closest friends of your life.

I could see everything. I could see the smiles, the laughter, the concentration, the emotional highs and lows, and the chemistry of these humans on stage together. I could see Carter’s love and thrill for each band member, his genuine undying smile and extraordinary speed and language he speaks on the drum kit. I could see him feel every single cymbal hit before it even landed. I could see Jeff and Rashawn’s friendship as two brass players, and the way they observe each other through their intricate solos. I could see Fonz get giddy during certain musical moments. I could see Tim’s immense concentration and what feels like his access to another dimension in the way he speaks through his guitar. I could see Buddy fresh and fly demeanor, his constant smile while playing keys, and how he is so deeply appreciated by the other legacy members of the band. I could see Dave’s raw outpouring of himself into every song he sang, his soul eternally begging to be released and shown to the world through the language of music. I could also see the warm twinkle in Dave’s eye from 25 feet away, you could tell that he, who feels like a lifelong friend to all of us, felt right at home and his presence communicated something like “I am so thrilled and happy to be here with you, my loving family, after so damn long.”

The venue disappeared for me because we were so close. I felt like I was in a small room with these guys. I was listening to exactly what I would want to hear and watch if I knew I had one evening left until my life was over.

Below are a few moments from certain songs that I wish to hold onto forever.

Setlist and moments:

**I felt the show really started to take off from JTR onward, so I’m going to start song comments at that point.

Tripping Billies Raven Seek Up So Right When The World Ends Seven You Might Die Trying Satellite The Riff

JTR: the pit crew was absolutely thrilled when JTR started playing. “Rain down on me” resonated deeply with a crowd and musicians who were so brutally covered in the sweat and humidity of the evening, it felt as if everyone in this moment resigned to the extreme physical state we were all in, and the musicians were right there with us. The way the horns built the the jam motif in the end of this tune, teasing and getting snagged on the same melody (between 4 and 6 time sig) until their final release in the last 8 bars. The way Carter carries the group through the end, with Dave high stepping along the way… just fantastic.

The Song that Jane Likes: Sweet song, amazing visuals behind the stage, and first time playing this year on tour.

Typical Situation: Something happened at this point in the show that changed the dynamic of the rest of the night. I watched Carter and Dave come alive during this tune. First, to see Carter playing shaker, mallets, and drumsticks on one song and switch effortlessly between them was awesome. But when this song went into the 7/8 chromatic jam during the middle of the outro it was off the charts. Buddy was hammering the keyboard, Carter was slamming the china cymbals, and Dave was DANCING harder than I’ve seen in 4 shows. The pit sang this one loud.

Do You Remember: Endless 90s nostalgia for me. The visuals of the bicycle evoke extremely colorful feelings of my childhood on Ivy St. The endless summer days, the laughter and sports and quiet evenings outside. My dad sitting on a chair watching us. I could write pages on just this feeling, but this song is a portal into my childhood.

Grey Street: Felt the song coming, and as Carter counted the intro out loud the tempo is so recognizable, it almost has its own identity for this song as the drums roll into the opening chord. The third verse comes back to life and the pit loves it. The girl I’m with says something about me being the crazy man creeping and I make a maniac face and she laughs. The thrill of seeing someone I know witness this song in person, up close, is overwhelmingly wholesome. It feels for a moment, as if the night has conspired to make this all happen. I almost hit the floor during the yeah scream on Grey Street after the 3rd chorus. Belted the note too hard and lost oxygen to my head, felt myself about to pass out immediately and grabbed on for dear life. The sax and trumpet duel during the outro between Jeff and Rashawn is staggering and leads us into the final riff of the song which just punches you in its goodness and power.

If Only: Just a humble little song. I need to listen to this one again (live version) to draw out what I remember from the stage.

Dancing Nancies: Dark, absolutely astounding. Tim Reynolds played the most other-worldly guitar solo with visuals on the back of broken dolls, babies, all kinds of crazy things. Dave began the song asking all the right questions about what he could have been to the audience. The hits on the outro in series of 8 were felt in my chest. Best version of it I’ve seen.

Warehouse: My all-time favorite song from this band. This intro is the most visceral and raw sequence in the show. When the sax, trumpet, guitar, and keys come together all in tremolo in 32nd notes, the frequencies and overtones created along with Carter’s enormous rapid cymbal sound is so intense you can see the physical effect it has on Dave. The closest way I could describe this intro as if the soul is being extricated by force out of the body and almost vacuumed or sucked upwards into a new reality it has to reckon with. “Only hope you’re here to pull me out, when I start going under, as the warehouse slips away” gives me chills. (To get a slight idea of what this is like, watch this clip at 38–40 mins. It’s from a different show, but note especially Dave’s viscerally clear connection with something beyond our understanding around the 39m mark.)

The strobes and lights here only add to the intensity of this intro. The huge yell before the 2nd verse. The drive into the outro. The salsa hits at the end. Rashawn just driving the trumpet to where it sounds like a different instrument. And the final lyrics in the moment of great reckoning:

That’s our blood down there⁣

Seems poured from the hands of angels⁣

Then trickle into the ground⁣

Leaves the Warehouse bare and empty⁣

Then my heart’s numbered beat⁣

Will echo in this empty room⁣

And fear wells in me⁣

Til’ nothing seems big enough to stay long

So I am going away, I am going away

The final Eadd9 chord lands as the warm summation and resolution to the song. I see the faces of all of my friends from the last 10 years that have been moved by this piece of music as well, and every place I have been in my life when listening to this song. It’s a sweet ending.

Everyday: One of Buddy’s licks on the intro to this song was a 32nd note run that blew the entire band away. He played 16 notes in under 2 seconds down the scale. Carter, who is probably the most attentive to rhythm, had his jaw on the floor. Everyone was loving it. The improv vocals. The 3 part harmonies. The crowd singing Hani Hani come and dance with me. The final build. Richness.

PNP > Rapunzel: Endlessly playful song that is perfect way to end a show. Funniest part of the show is when Dave’s string broke about 15 seconds before the outro-dance-explosion that becomes the end of this song. It was very critical that the new guitar get on before the downbeat of the outro because of how much the song picks up and to keep that energy. As Dave is bending his neck to put the new guitar on, after 3 hours of playing and probably in some pain, he changed the last lyrics of Rapunzel to: “Every single thing you do to me, my god I’m FUCKED, but I’ll do, my best, for you, I’ll do yeaaaaaa. LOL! I’m sure he’s used this change before but it was timed so perfectly with him tangled in a new guitar strap, with his head banging against the various items, knowing he had about 3 seconds to pull of this change and it was not going well.

Encore:

Singing From The Windows: I could not hold it together for this song. After a year and a half of what has felt like chaos in the lives of many people and in humanity, the acceptance and hope that pours from this song, and out of Dave, is enough to floor anyone that has an ounce of care for the rest of our species. I looked around and everyone around me in the pit was crying. Dave got choked up on this song the other night and looked like he was barely holding it together. There was a quiet and serenity for a moment without the band, and all of the focus went to the songwriter and the gripping power one man and a guitar can have on an audience of 20,000 people.

Why I Am: Man, it really felt like Leroi still carries a presence in this band and you can tell why the band sings it often.

Stay: By this point, everyone was so insanely hot in the pit that they were belting Stay knowing that it was the last chance we would get to sing together. The way Carter syncopates the china cymbals on the outro of this song has always captured me. To watch Dave dance to this one more time while the horns went off and spread his arms wide on the final 3 seconds of the song was an exclamation point on a wild ass evening.

— —

Anyway, I wish that every human being could experience what I did last night. The world would be an infinitely better place. It’s not often that we have moments in our life that alter the course of the path we’re on, but I think it’s important to recognize them when they happen.

Whatever God is or means, or exists insofar as we allow him/her/it into this world, God was absolutely radiating last night. In the faces of the people, and in the entity that lives and breathes and is created when these musicians get together on stage. There is something above and beyond human form that I am humbled to have been a witness to.

It sounds a bit wild, but we are so unbelievably bigger than our bodies trick us into thinking we are. We are so much bigger than the Warehouse that contains us. And yet, we must live and do God’s work through this physical vessel because it is the only form that we take while we’re here. We must learn from this self and feed it, nourish it, teach it to become more than what it thinks it is.

One other thought: to share this musical experience alone is wonderful. But to have shared this band with someone I love so deeply is all a person could ever ask for. It is the epitome of the human experience, that is, to watch another person receive their own gift, their own joy, their own meaning from something you believe in, and to know they will carry it with them forever. They are changed by your truth. I got to see her become fully and endlessly alive because of this music last night. And that was infinitely enough.

We left the venue on fire with gratitute. It sounds wild, but I remember thinking I could die quite peacefully at that moment! I couldn’t conjure any other thing I needed to go do on this planet. I couldn’t conjure a negative thought. It was impossible. The word “ecstasy” doesn’t do this feeling justice, because the emotions are so much further in range than just intense happiness. Perhaps “awareness” or “power” or “spiritual fullness” resound a bit more to me, but for everyone it is different.

I think what’s most special about this band is that their music permeates into the core of who you are as a human being. It’s spiritual. It’s bursting with truth. It transforms how you see the world. It becomes your attitude and your way of life. This is why these guys sold more live tickets than any other group on earth for 10 years straight. The range of emotion embedded in the music is also the perfect analogy of what we as people honestly grapple with during our journey here. The lessons are clear. The music has given millions of people permission to live better lives: with jubilance, resilience, and an understanding that joy exists even amidst the deepest of pain. Each day we have an opportunity to show someone else this honest attitude, this truth, through whatever medium we choose. It is one of the greatest gifts we can offer another person. There is no question I will carry the richness of this experience with me, from now until the end of my life. I am forever thankful for nights like this, nights that are simply transcendent.

Thomas Harpole

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ThomasHarpole.com

#dmb #davematthewsband

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honestsycrets · 6 years ago

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Rut VI: Who is the Daddie?

❛ pairing | ubbe x reader x ivar

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | finally, ubbe and ivar have children. except, who is the father?

❛ warnings | abo, polyandry.

Ubbe always thought nature was better than life at home.

The animals were quiet. They mind their own business, eat when they must eat, roam when they must roam. Ubbe likes it that way. No struggles for power and land that kings know hardly anything about… just… the simple life.

His feet squish along sodden grass. The morning dew weighed it down prior and now, it’s squishy enough for him to past through with his bow. He would make you a good dinner, he decided. Late last night your labor began. It was painfully slow and spread through your core so that all you wanted to do was lay upon the bed stripped clean as you labored in peace.

Ivar had been a mess all morning. His hands in his hair, drinking himself into a stupor while your favourite thrall sat beside you. She encouraged you on with small kisses to your forehead. Two alphas could rarely share the same house together. They would always clash-- who wanted a lay alone that night, what territory was whose and lately-- whose children you were pregnant with.

Ubbe was many things, but stupid was not one of them. Ubbe had spent much of the last heat you had away. Ivar spent days breeding you before he came home, scenting out your heat and finding your brother locked inside your warm, messy pussy. The likelihood that the child would be his… not so hot.

“Master!”

He loosens the arrow from the string, sending it whizzing past the field into a tree; not the deer that he had been chasing all morning. Ubbe hisses his curse, turning to face the woman that ruined his kill.

“Aesa.” He hisses, spitting it off of his tongue like a curse. “I lost my kill.”

“But you’re about to have a birth. She is pushing!”

A birth? Ubbe’s eyebrows furrow, searching for only seconds before it hits him. The babies.

“(Y/N)?” He throws the bow over his shoulder and bounds off of the balls of his feet past her, sliding down the grassy hillside. The stains mark his trousers, green and fragrant. His feet feel weightless weaving past the oak to the home that Ubbe had built for you beside Ivar’s calculating eye. He laid the plans, Ubbe and Hvitserk supplied the labour.

“Prince Ubbe she’s pushing!” The townswomen tell him on the way toward his cabin. Frigg, Frigg don’t let him miss this. He pushes past men and women outside his cabin, shoving into the great room.

“Where were you?” Ivar barks.

Ubbe hangs up his bow and loosens the rabbit on his belt. A few seconds later, Aesa comes in wheezing. Ubbe hands off the rabbit and walks into your shared bedroom. It’s already loud with the crying of a child in one of the midwife’s hands.

“Just about there. One more, one more.” The midwife tells you, timing it smoothly. “Now.”

Ubbe’s ears perk, Ivar hot on his tail as he rushes to watch. Under the weight of a final groan, he hears your breath hike and release. Another set of cries match the first. Ubbe sways forward, chest raising and dropping. He hasn’t even dropped his bow nor quiver of arrows and smells of his salty sweat.

“Boys.” Your eyes are heavy in maternal exhaustion. You usher both of them forward. Ubbe’s boots and Ivar’s pointed crutch. You look toward one of the midwives, carrying the child back to your arms. You kiss the top of the child’s forehead when Ubbe speaks.

“Let me see my nephew.” He asks. Your smile brightens your cheeks as you hand over the child whose soft golden hair and sharp blue eyes gaze up into the air, whining still.

“He’s not your nephew.” You say sweetly to your mate. The one that should have had the right first. “We have a son together.”

Ubbe glances up from his soft face, running his eyes across the little boy in his arms. He can’t wrap his head around it. He… he shouldn’t have had a son. Ivar bred you time and time before he came in that night so many heats ago to find you in bed with his brother.

“It looks likes it’s my nephew,” Ivar argues with his older brother. Ubbe glances over, sharp in annoyance. Of course, Ivar couldn’t let it stand.

“You were so sure that it was yours,” Ubbe notes. No way did Ivar get to make him miserable without this actually being his-- like he fought for a full nine months straight. “What if he is yours?”

“He has your nose.” Ivar points out.

“He’s a baby. You can’t--”

“Boys!” You shout. You’re so annoyed that the boys can practically smell the annoyance, hormones that an omega exude when stressed, piquing to catch their attention. The two alphas quiet. After a day in labour, both know that pissing you off further would be a terrible mistake.

“Aesa, bring me the other.” You tell your red-haired thrall. She brings forth the other child that the midwife was tending to. She carries another child, blond as the day was long. You pull yourself up to sit in the bed, drawing down the gown that sheens with your sweat. Withdrawing your dress from your breast you take the child and watch him root for your nipple.

“Come here, Ivar. Look at this one.”

He limps around his brother, looking at the child. A small, broad nose and flat eyebrows. That much he can make out. His brother’s nose was so desperately different from his that he questions exactly how that… worked.

“It’s mine?” He says, barely a whisper. Then delightfully he looks up toward Ubbe, laughing. “It’s mine! But how do two men and the same women have children like this?”

Ubbe runs his thumb over his newborn son’s cheek, pursing out his lips before rolling them back into his mouth. It only takes a few seconds for him to come to his own conclusion about how this worked.

“I told you, brother,” Ubbe says. “Some omegas need both.”

@igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @cbouvier23, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @lisinfleur, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou,@noregretsandyeteveryregret, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @end-of-night, @gruffle1, @lol-haha-joke @arses21434, @smileyparrots, @moosemittens13, @miss-artemis-wild, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @wonderwoman292, @wish-i-was-a-mermaid, @fangirls94, @mcuimxgine, @killerb00sdeath, @heartbeats-wildly, @boo20017, @acacheofstrange, @shaelyn102, @astoryoffireandlight, @smokealone, @shaelyn102 @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27, @flokidottir-imagines-br, @sincerelysinister, @allvikingsfanfic, @chinduda @faatassbitch

#ubbe #ubbe x reader #ivar #ivar x reader #ivar x reader x ubbe #ubbe x reader x ivar #vikings imagines #vikings imagine #vikings/reader #vikings x reader

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craniumculverin · 6 years ago

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Ripper!AU Characters

A while back the ever talented @donc-desole drew some great art of their Bloodborne Ripper!AU, and I fell in love with it instantly. I’ve been slowly working out a story and background for this AU since then. These character summaries were one of the first things I started writing and have added to and kept up to date as the story develops. Most of these folks are tertiary and some may not even have a role in the story by the time I’m done, but I wanted to figure out how most of the NPCs fit into this universe.

Also, if you’re a fan Des’ OCs as well you’ll notice a certain doctor’s name. ;)

Alfred - An up-and-comer that’s relatively new to Yharnam. Gentleman, academic theologian, fleeting soldier, amateur pugilist, literal lady killer. He’s currently working on his dissertation to complete his theology doctorate after an extensive, years-long mentorship that equated an education up to that point. It’s slow going given his preoccupation with stalking about in the dead of night, but he persists; for his own fervid pursuit, as well as to follow-through on the wishes of his late mentor and benefactor. The reproachful scholars at Byrgenwerth University are particularly interested in his enigmatic past - a topic he’s all too happy to leave be. He’s taken strongly to one of Yharnam’s aristocracy, much to her vexation. And fear of mutilation.

Annalise Cainhurst - A life-long resident of New Pthumeria and one of its few remaining that can truly claim to be of noble blood. She holds an unknown amount of power in Yharnam’s activities, and may have been involved in the politics of the recent civil war. In fact very few seem to know what it she does, though everyone seems to know not to mess with the sole heiress of the Cainhurst nobles - other than Alfred that is. When not pulling strings, she’s taken to writing articles in the local paper under a pseudonym, and is quite popular with cult naysayers. The higher echelons of the local Church of Healing cult apparently despise her; maybe something to do with her pastime? Or perhaps her evident immortality?

Percival Hewlett- A doctor that practices in Yharnam, and likely Alfred’s only real, albeit begrudging friend. A rather eccentric and introverted man that was a respectable medical practitioner long before his move to the city. Stories of Byrgenwerth University’s ventures into the medical frontier proved tantalizing enough that he left his established practice in London, thus leaving behind his own share of secrets. Like most of Yharnam’s foreign doctors he’s had to take up a position in the local cult - however, like most of said doctors, he sees it simply as a means of gaining access to the Church's resources. Alfred trusts him fully, and in turn Percy has taken to minding his more self-destructive habits - or perhaps more accurately, taken an interest in studying him.

Siegward - Alfred’s beloved canine companion. An English mastiff pampered to the utmost degree and treated better than Alfred treats himself at times. Despite multiple outings every day he still carries more bulk than any other dog in Yharnam. While under his mentor’s tutelage, Alfred saved him from an irate nobleman whose prized bitch was bred with the wrong male, Sig being a part of that litter. Since then he’s been the closest companion Alfred’s ever had, thus his rather extreme protectiveness of the animal. Red meat is often a part of this dog’s diet, despite his master’s lack of visits to any local butchers…

Iosefka - A New Pthumerian doctor who was one of very few allowed by the Church to travel beyond the country's borders before they were opened to the outside world. During her time spent abroad she happened to meet Percy Hewlett - he was one of but a handful in England that took her completely seriously as a medical practitioner, not only because she's a woman but also her "unconventional" practices. His acceptance and their shared research interests quickly forged a friendship that has lasted since. It's Iosefka's clinic and row house that Percy rents, and her good word that continues to ease tensions between he and other Church members. The two meet from time to time for tea and a chat, usually about their studies or more annoying compatriots.

Djura - The man every dog-loving Yharnamite knows - or hates, in Alfred’s case. The seemingly homeless, one-eyed native veteran earns his keep around town as both a dog walker and sitter, whether it’s requested or not. Many of the pooches he looks after never quite make it back to living with their owners, yet oddly most don’t seem to have a problem with that; the man takes care of every dog he “shelters” as if it were his own flesh and blood. He’s taken up residence in one of the larger empty buildings of Old Yharnam, same as where he keeps his multitude of kennels. An overall helpful and well-known old coot, he seems to be more knowledgeable than he lets on, in a number of areas.

Eileen, aka the Crow - Nothing much is known about the woman other than this: she acts only at night, kills those that deserve it, and has never once been caught. A vigilante of sorts, she’s taken it upon herself to erase those that aid the ever growing crime-rate in Yharnam. Thus far only murderers, abusers, kidnappers, and similar ilk have been targeted, so many Yharnamites are content to let her go about her business. Alfred, on the other hand, has had to be very careful during his night time escapades. Annalise has also had to deal with the Crow’s snooping - or at least her cousin has…

The Crow of Cainhurst - A mysterious man that Alfred has never seen unmasked, he's apparently a “distant relative” or “cousin” of Annalise. He comes and goes silently from her manor seemingly as he sees fit, though nearly always converses with her before leaving. As it is, he likely carries out his mistress’s more unsavory dealings and orders. He has no quarrels with sharing his disgust and mistrust of Alfred’s attempted courtship of Annalise, earning him Alfred’s utter disdain. Neither ever dare to raise a finger against the other however, as the noblewoman all but demanded they play nice. The only association he has to the other Crow in Yharnam is a bitter and historied rivalry.

Gascoigne - A retired clergyman and soldier that assists at the Healing Church chapel near his family’s home. Many believe him to be in some official capacity since he’s so often seen there, but really he’s the groundskeeper more than anything. He left the clergy long ago - originally in New Pthumeria as a missionary, he joined the civil war effort and eventually found himself in the same regiment as Henryk. He was forced into retirement due to injuries from some sort of "beast," leaving him scarred and with sensitive vision. He’d met his wife while still a clergyman, marrying only after he’d returned from the front. His two daughters are adopted, and he’s as fiercely protective of them as any true father would be. He and Alfred are far from friendly, mostly due to Gascoigne’s seemingly unfounded suspicions of the man.

Viola - Gascoigne’s wife and mother to their adopted daughters. She met her husband while working as a nurse during the civil war, and tended to him when gravely injured. One of few women in Yharnam that Alfred both personally knows and holds in high regards - and so receives his particular brand of chivalry. She’s a gentle woman, kind to all but just as firm in what she deems needed and appropriate. She’s become fond of Alfred with how kindly he treats her youngest, despite his peculiarities and her husband’s distrust. He seems in need of a motherly figure in his life, and so long as he continues to be a gentleman toward her and her girls, she’s more than willing to be just that; regardless of her husband’s overbearing wariness.

Eleanor & Madeline - Gascoigne and Viola’s adopted daughters. Their biological parents were victims of the civil war, and were known by both Gascoigne and Viola before their demise. Eleanor, the eldest, was old enough to remember some of what happened, while Madeline was just a babe at the time. Ellie is more reserved when it comes to interactions and letting people near. Maddie, on the other hand, can find a friend in even the most peculiar of people - Alfred, for instance. She is an avid artist-in-the-making, drawing with her chalks on the family’s front walk as her father tends to chores, while her older sister enjoys receiving piano and singing lessons from their mother. They are both very fond of dogs, for whatever reason.

Henryk - A veteran soldier and altogether mysterious older man. He is close friends with Gascoigne from his time looking out for the younger man during the war, and considers Viola and the girls his family just as much as they do him. He can occasionally be seen having a drink in a certain tavern outside of Yharnam. Other than that the man is an enigma - he comes and goes often, sometimes gone for weeks at a time. What he does with the bulk of his time in his later years is known by very few, and he seems content to leave it as such. Alfred finds him rather unsettling, more than he’s willing to admit.

Constable Valtr - A Swedish constable from a village deep in the forest that flanks Yharnam, Alfred’s only met him off the clock with drink in hand. He’s a jovial sort with an adamant personality and unwavering resolve when it comes to disbursing justice - or so his comrades have said; frankly Alfred is just fine with never having to find out firsthand. Some of the men at the tavern he frequents defer to him regularly or let him speak for them altogether, making it obvious he’s a leader of sorts among them, beyond his position as a man of the law. Even old Henryk treats him with a good deal of respect.

The Madaras Twins & Yamamura - Three men that are almost always with the Constable at their favored tavern. The young Twins run a butcher shop, but don’t seem much more than local thugs, brutish and loud in their revelry. Yamamura on the other hand is very reserved, the times he speaks always in his native tongue though Alfred is certain he knows English. On the rare occasion he wishes to speak to someone Valtr translates for him. Alfred’s familiar with the three from his occasional visits to the tavern - he even had a good-natured, drunken bout of fisticuffs with the Twins, much to Valtr and the tavern’s bettors’ delight.

Arianna - A New Pthumerian prostitute typically seen along the streets of Old Yharnam. Very personable and flirtatious, regardless of whether she’s currently working the alleys or "taking time off.” She holds herself with a surprising amount of poise for a common tart - perhaps that’s part of why she’s one of the more sought after courtesans the capitol has to offer. Though they’ve hardly interacted she holds a place in Alfred’s past, not that he would ever willingly admit it. Despite or perhaps because of that, she’s long been in Alfred’s sights for a very different sort of late-night soiree…

Gilbert - A quiet, very sickly gentleman, drawn from his homeland by Yharnam’s reputation as a place of medical advancements. He had hoped for a cure to his terminal illness, but instead found himself "aiding" the Church’s brightest minds as their guinea pig. He crossed paths with Alfred early on in the latter’s time in the city, becoming a cultural lifeline for the man. Since settling in, Alfred’s more than repaid the kindness by Gilbert’s estimate - he referred him to a certain clinic, run by one Dr. Hewlett. His existence has become far more bearable since leaving the Church doctors' clutches, and is simply glad to know whatever time he has left will be peaceful.

Sister Adella - An English nun that’s part of a convent far outside Yharnam. She rarely ventures into the city, and has little reason to given its proclivity to the resident cult. She originally joined an abbey in England associated with an orphanage, before being relocated to her current convent. She and Alfred have shared history, though neither really considers the other more than an acquaintance. Soft spoken and nervous, though on occasion can become quite impassioned.

A Hunter - Before truly moving to Yharnam Alfred spent a good deal of time touring his new homeland of New Pthumeria, during which he crossed paths with a certain individual on a number of occasions. They only ever told him they were "a sort of hunter working under contract," never giving their name and rarely uncovering their face. Despite the odd sense of discretion, they and Alfred got along swimmingly. After the first few meetings the two began spending time or continuing their travels together before parting ways once more. They're one of only a handful of people whom Alfred has allowed to pet Siegward - a good indicator of how highly he thinks of them. As of yet they don't appear to have shown up to Yharnam since he settled there.

#bloodborne #bb #ripper!au #alfred bloodborne #executioner alfred #alfred the executioner #queen annalise #percival hewlett #they're p much the main three really #donc-desole ocs #original content

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elanorjane · 6 years ago

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No Rest for the Wicked [Ch 5/20]

Summary: Rumford Gold is tired. He may have lost his taste for killing people. Which is a problem considering it’s his job. Unable to complete his latest assignment, he’s stranded in an obnoxiously chipper small town and continually distracted by the town’s captivating librarian. Belle French is growing weary of her role as Storybrooke’s resident good girl. Every day she sits in her empty library, surrounded by the places she’ll never get to see. When a mysterious stranger comes into town, Belle thinks she might have found her great romantic adventure. Job undone, Gold’s assassin colleagues descend on the town. Forced to make a choice, Gold has to decide: Tell Belle the truth about being an assassin and ruin the image she has of him or complete the job while trying to protect Belle…including from himself.

AO3 Link

Hades.

Gold glanced over his shoulder. Belle was framed in the library window, a soft smile on her red lips as she sorted through her books at the circulation desk. For as eager as he’d been to flee from her presence, he now longed to return to the stillness of that room and the quirky little librarian bursting with unfulfilled desires.

“I got your messages,” Gold sighed into the phone. He forced his back to Belle, taking a few steps down the sidewalk. He knew she couldn’t hear him through the heavy front doors, but for some reason he still didn’t want to have this conversation in her vicinity.

He and Hades had known each other for many years, and by reputation long before that. In the contract killing business you worked alone, that’s why Gold liked it, but inevitably you got to know other people. There were more assassins in the world than you would think, but not so many that they couldn’t hold an annual Christmas party if they wanted. Which was what Gold likened to what Hades was attempting to do now.

“Then you know I’m getting together a little union of sorts,” he told Gold in his halting tone.

“All organized under you, conveniently.”

On the few occasions that they’d run into each other, Gold had found the man cloying and desperate. Hades loved killing people and Gold had never gotten into this game for the enjoyment of it. Circumstances had presented themselves in a time of desperation and he’d done it to survive. Which begged the question: If he was already rich, why was he still doing it?

Because you wouldn’t know what else to do with your life, an inner voice answered him.

Gold shook the statement off. He walked further down the sidewalk, as if to put distance between him and it.

“Think of it more as combining powers.” Gold could hear the smile in Hades’ voice. Hades was known to enjoy playing with his prey before making the kill. Gold had no patience for such nonsense.

This was a waste of both their time. If Hades wanted to pitch this stupid idea to him, he wasn’t going to let him beat around the bush any longer.

“I’m not a team player,” he told him.

“But that’s what I like about you,” Hades crooned. “You know I’ve always considered us brothers, two of a kind.”

Gold made a face. He’d never had a brother and if he did, it wouldn’t be with a psychopath like Hades.

And what does that make you, exactly? The inner voice - he refused to call it a conscious - returned. A sociopath? Hardly a difference considering what you do for a living.

“Did you know,” Hades teased, “that for the last five years, you and I continually vie for the distinction of the most kills in a year? The greatest rivals can make the greatest partners.” He left the last sentence dangling.

Gold hadn’t know that. He knew that he worked a lot. He didn’t keep track of how many jobs he took in a year, that path led to madness. He just took enough assignments so he’d be guaranteed to be busy working year round. Holidays meant nothing to him, so the calendar pages kept turning with him taking no notice. He didn’t know exactly how many kills got one ‘first place’, or who in their right mind would keep track of such a thing and why. Nevertheless, the news from Hades didn’t give him any sort of pride.

“Think about it, Gold. Someone wants someone else dead,” he spoke matter-of-factly. “So they get on the Dark Web and put the request out and what happens? We all end up killing each other for the same few decent assignments...no pun intended.”

Hades didn’t need to tell him their business was a competitive one. Wires got crossed, intentionally and not, all the time. People were sent out on the same job; assassins murdered each other competing over contracts. It happened more often than it should. But if you weren’t good enough to fend for yourself, well that was on you.

“Then what’s left but the low paying scraps?” Hades continued. “A bunch of nobodies paying minimum wage for you to kill their neighbor’s dog. By combining our powers, that can change. What I’m offering is quality control,” he cajoled. “We’re going to filter out the kids in this business who don’t know their Sigs from their Sturms. Offers come straight to me, I make sure the right people get the right jobs. You join with me now, you can have your pick of the best assignments. Want to spend the winter in Maui? I'll just wave my well-manicured hand and you’ll be killing strictly islanders all season.”

“I don’t look good in shorts.”

Hades sighed impatiently, done playing. “I’m letting you in on the ground floor. You’re the only one I’m offering this to.”

“How generous. How many strings are attached?”

Hades leveled with him. “The string is...you work for me. If there's something I need you to do that only you can do, you do it.”

And what would that be? Kill whoever Hades wanted killed, for free? For Gold to further dirty his hands so Hades could start cleaning his? He had no interest in being in Hades debt, or his lap dog.

“Never gonna happen.”

“Don’t think of it as a union, but a brotherhood. You and me. We can control the jobs we want to do and give everyone else the assignments in Siberia.”

The infighting of the contract killing business had never interested Gold. But he also didn’t care enough to play politics and do anything about it.

When Gold didn’t answer, Hades’ voice tightened. “I’m not offering again. This is your last chance. Either get on the train or get run over. This is going to happen with or without you.”

“Without,” Gold answered with no hesitation.

Gold braced himself for the blowback. Surprisingly, Hades’ turned pleasant again. “Where are you anyway? Is that the sea I hear?”

“None of your concern.”

“Oh, I think it is,” Hades threatened for a final time.

Gold snapped the phone shut and stuffed it into his pocket. He wasn’t particularly concerned about Hades’ efforts, just annoyed to be bothered with them at all. Every few years someone in the business made a fuss about something they didn’t like. Nothing ever came to fruition and this would be no different.

He turned around, back towards the library. Social rules dictated he go back inside and continue the conversation he was having with Belle or at least say goodbye. He took several steps in that direction. From where he stood, he could see Belle through the window again. Still alone at the desk, still with that ever-present hopefulness in her eyes. She caught him looking through the window and she stood up taller, her smile widening. She waved at him.

It looked so welcoming. He’d never desired to enter a building more.

Which is why he turned right back around and starting walking in the opposite direction.

He wanted desperately to go in, to step back into the warmth of the library - a glow that he suspected came directly from her - and see if she had any tea in one of the back rooms. To sit with her and listen to her talk about her books. Maybe watch her bend down in her little skirt when she dropped one.

He sped away from the library, but slowed when he feared it looked like fleeing. In these jobs, you didn’t want to be noticed. You had to walk the fine line between being such a loner you aroused suspicion and drawing too much attention to yourself. Ideally, you wanted people to forget you the instant after they met you. Becoming too friendly with the librarian would make it harder for him to disappear when the job was done.

He strode down the sidewalk with confidence.

Only to realize he’d parked the car on the other side of the library, in the opposite direction.

See, this was his point. He was losing focus. He’d momentarily forgotten why he was here. Certainly not for this Miner’s Day everyone was beating each other with candles over. He headed back for the car, stalking past the library windows yet again, this time determinedly keeping his eyes fixated on the pavement so he wouldn’t be tempted to glance up to see if Belle was still at the desk.

He made it back to his car unmolested and with no proper hotels in town, and knowing he wouldn’t be staying long, he ended up in one of the rooms above Granny’s. It wasn’t as private as he preferred, but there would be a lack of security cameras, so that worked in his favor.

Locked in the seclusion of his room, he exhaled in relief. Finally, he was free from the prying eyes and probing questions of the Sheriff, the candle people, the beautiful librarian, and the battleaxe Granny herself.

He took off his jacket and tie, toed off his shoes, and loosened the top buttons of his shirt. Then he tossed the damn envelope that had been plaguing him onto the middle of the bed.

Then stood there staring at it.

He thought back to what Hades had told him, about regularly having the most kills of any currently working assassin. Something twinged deep inside him. His long forgotten conscience? Impossible. Indigestion from the inferior food from Granny’s, maybe.

He took the dagger out of his jacket that hung on the chair and lowered himself onto the floral bedspread.

He glared at the dossier. Was this the kill that would put him back in the number one spot? For a split second he started counting back all his recent kills. The guy in Spain, the woman in Ecuador, the half dozen Russia jobs.

He stopped himself by grabbing the dossier and stabbing the edge of it with the knife.

This entire day had not gone according to plan and it was beginning to rattle him. Which was worrisome. Nothing should rattle him. If he didn’t have a steady head and hand, he couldn’t do his job. And he had to do his job. There was nothing else for him to do.

Then, he was back to where he began when Zoso had found him in a gutter in Glasgow, doing the job because he had to and not because he wanted to. It was as bad as working for Hades. No. He just needed sleep. To start this day over again with a clear head.

He flung open the bedside drawer and threw the dossier and dagger on top of the Bible and slammed it shut. Disgusted with himself, he stretched out on the bed and snapped off the bedside lamp.

The next morning dawned bright. He was beginning to doubt there was any other kind in Storybrooke. He showered and put on a fresh suit, hanging the previous day’s garment on the back of the door. Granny had assured him her granddaughter would pick it up and take it to a same day dry cleaner. He retrieved the dagger from the drawer and placed it back in his coat pocket. Feeling more like himself now, he lifted the dossier from the drawer. Today he felt no angst as he weighed it in his hand. He strolled over to the window, taking a sip from the coffee he’d made in the room’s small four-cup coffee maker. He hadn’t noticed the night before, but from his second floor room he could look across the street at the clock tower and the doors of the library.

With the dossier in hand and his head on straight, there was nothing keeping him here but his own dilly dallying. He could use the Miner’s Day festival as a cover, get the job done, and get out of town without anyone taking notice. He thought of the librarian and her hopes of also escaping Storybrooke.

As if on cue, the library doors opened and Belle emerged. Today’s heels were blue and her skirt a sunny yellow. She didn’t get far down the street before she was stopped by other townspeople and pulled into conversation. He noticed no one offered her a damn candle.

He gripped the envelope in his hand. Regardless, he had to get food first. Couldn’t assassinate on an empty stomach. Maybe there was someplace other than Granny’s to eat in this town. He dropped his coffee cup on the dresser and threw his tie around his neck. He stood on the bed and slid the envelope into the drop ceiling of his room so the granddaughter wouldn’t happen upon it. He knotted his tie, threw on his coat, and rushed down the back steps, letting him out behind Granny’s without having to walk through the restaurant.

He hurried down the side alley because he was hungry, he told himself. When he emerged onto the street he had to maneuver his way around a flower delivery truck, so he didn’t see the person coming down the other side of the street. He stopped short, almost colliding with someone.

Not someone.

She looked different, yet exactly the same. Noticeably less makeup and her hair wasn’t pulled back, but it was definitely her.

Another assassin.

Regina.

#fic: No Rest for the Wicked #Rumbelle #Rumbelle fanfic #Rumbelle fic #Rumbelle fanfiction

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islesblogger · 6 years ago

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Islanders: Understanding Prospect Mining

What’s in your wallet?

The Pool Is Deep

The Islanders have had their best string of drafts in the past six years. We are already seeing the talents of Pulock (2013) and Toews (2014) in the NHL. Their last six draft classes have either produced or will produce at least two full time NHL players.

Still on schedule to be NHL players are:

2014 Ilya Sorokin, Linus Soderstrom

2015 Mitch Vande Sompel, Parker Wotherspoon

2016 Keiffer Bellows, Otto Koivula, Anatoly Golyshev

2017 Sebastian Aho, Robin Salo, Arnaud Durandeau, Logan Cockerill

2018 Oliver Wahlstrom, Noah Dobson, Bode Wilde, Ruslan Iskhakov, Jakub Skarek.

Can They Afford To Rent?

Sure they can. They have enough of a talent pool now to start shipping some of those “prospects” out for rentals, or vets that can make them better now. But throwing away too much for a high impact rental should not be a trend they start without careful consideration.

CBA Economics 101

Expiring assets from other teams will be available for no added cost in July. When you are looking at renting a player you really have to evaluate the economics of the deal. All of the players mentioned above except Toews($700K AAV) and Pulock ($2M AAV) are still on their Entry Level Contract (ELC) deals. Usually their first RFA contracts are under $2M. It’s those players that contribute the most for the least from ages 22 thru 27. Once a player hits 27 they become an Unrestricted Free Agent (UFA) and the one guarantee is that YOU WILL OVERPAY for their services.

As the team ages, players like Lee and Nelson are moving to their UFA status. These are the kind of players who produced on team friendly deals, and have earned value in free agency. One could say the same thing for Jordan Eberle, who has been a very productive player, even at his barely leveraged $6M AAV.

The structure of the league dictates that you be mindful of your salary cap structure. If you want to retain high end UFA’s and priced RFA’s like Barzal there has to be a balance. The roster must be supplemented with high potential ELC and RFA prospects. This should be the business model for Lou’s Burger Barn going forward.

Who Should Be Available?

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Sebastian Aho

Aho has already shown that he fits into the NHL game. He still has some growing to do, but a team receiving Aho could probably plug him into their NHL lineup upon arrival. His only deterrent with the Islanders is that they are stacked in the NHL and they have two left handed defensemen right behind him. He is a 2017 draftee, but he is the same age as a 2015 draftee because he was drafted at 20 instead of 18.

Mitch Vande Sompel and Parker Wotherspoon

Both left handed defensemen are in almost exactly the same circumstance as Aho, but they did not have the benefit of pro experience at an earlier age. They both have considerable value though.

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Josh Ho-Sang

He should be on the “untouchable” list due to his talent, but is probably on the “do not touch” list because of his perceived inability to be coached. Who knows the whole story with Josh, all we can assume is that if Lou can get any value for him at all he should do both player and team the service of giving Josh a fourth or fifth “second chance”. If any team would accept him in a rental package they should ship him faster than a Conner McDavid loop around the rink.

European Prospects

The Isles’ prospect list is littered with potential NHLers that are still developing on European rosters. I don’t have enough info on the list of skaters to determine which might be more highly sought after, but I would think that Robin Salo and Anatoly Golyshev head the list.

Michael Dal Colle

MDC really turned his game around this year. He had a very pedestrian pro-rookie campaign in the AHL two years ago, then regressed last year. He worked on his game over the off season and has impressed all year. His expendable status is mostly due to the already signed group of forwards. They will also most likely extend Anders Lee. The Isles have a deepening surplus of high end forward talent. Dal Colle is probably the most valued “prospect” to have NHL games on his resume.

Kieffer Bellows

I think Bellows and DalColle are eventually mutually exclusive in the talent pool. You do not have room for both in the 5 year plan, but you wouldn’t want to trade both. The Islanders have some time to make an ultimate decision, but they’ll probably lose one of them for nothing if they let Kieffer reach RFA status in the AHL.

Linus Soderstrom

I believe Linus had shoulder surgery last year and a major setback this year. He has no trade value, but if he can recover he should be in Bridgeport for the Isles next year.

The Untouchables

Ilya Sorokin

There is no way he is going anywhere for a rental. So this is where we really have to draw the line on trade deadline availability.

Otto Koivula

He was a player to watch this year as he was going to be playing his first season of North American hockey. He had a decent start, but exploded as soon as he was moved from wing to center. You rarely find centers abundant among NHL prospect lists. Koivula has a tremendous amount of value right now, even though he may be more than a year away from being a full time NHLer. We might see him in the NHL for a few games towards the final weeks of the season. This would give him a feel for the NHL game. It would also prepare him for an emergency call up in a deep playoff run.

2018 Draft Class

The Islanders didn’t have a top ten draft pick. They did manage to get two players that were ranked in the top 10 (Oliver Wahlstrom and Noah Dobson). They also acquired a defenseman thought to be top 20 in the second round. They weren’t finished there either. They were able to pick up one of the highest ranked goalie prospects and some late blooming talent in the later rounds. Much like Arnaud Durandeau and Logan Cockerill from the 2017 draft, these are kids we might want to let develop a little to before we sell them off the bargain table. They aren’t “untouchable” per say, but they should be put off to the side. You never know when you might stumble upon a hidden Matt Moulson or Michael Grabner in your own garage.

Islanders: Understanding Prospect Mining was originally published on islesblogger.com

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i-optimisticcollectorpizza-blog · 7 years ago

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Learn How To Play Violin Free Online Group Classes 1

Learn How To Play Violin, Free Online Group Classes

Learn How To Play Violin Online With an Expert Teacher

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Learn proper violin techniques from basic to advanced, including scales, rhythm, vibrato, sight reading, and much more. Our online violin classes will help you gain confidence and master the skills you need to become a successful violinist! Plus, you’ll have the chance to ask questions, get instant feedback, and make new friends with other students at your level. Try any of these group classes and courses free for 30 days!

In this class, students will learn how to prepare for their first few violin lessons. Topics include caring for your instrument, brainstorming goals, music theory basics, warm up exercises, and more. You'll also have the opportunity to speak with a live expert instructor to get basic questions about lessons (.

In this violin class, your expert instructor will walk you through some very effective practice techniques for mastering the violin. You’ll learn how to use rhythms in your practicing so you can improve how quickly you learn passages. Come to class with a piece of music you are working on and your instructor.

Ready to take your violin skills to the next level? In this live violin class for intermediate students, your expert instructor will lead you through progressive, helpful exercises to increase your confidence and accuracy with playing the violin. Every week you will learn something new, so don't forget to sig.

The violin is an incredibly rewarding instrument to play, and an excellent choice for learners of all ages. It’s well respected for both its level of difficulty to learn and its beautiful sound.

Keep reading to find answers to some of the most commonly asked questions when starting to learn how to play the violin. We’ll share how to find the right violin size for you, how to tune your instrument, and more!

Is violin hard to learn?

Any instrument comes with both easy and difficult concepts to learn. The violin has only one clef and one line of music to follow. However, one challenge of the violin is that it doesn’t have frets, so a violinist's fingers need to be properly trained.

Usually within a few months though, and sometimes less, you’ll be playing simple melodies on the violin. Exactly how long it will take to learn the violin will vary depending on your age, musical background, and attitude toward learning.

Is it possible to teach yourself violin?

It can take years of determination and practice to master the violin. Because of the importance of proper technique, most students start off their journey with the help of a qualified teacher. A minority of students try to teach themselves how to play the violin.

This is a huge undertaking with great potential for learning the wrong way of holding the violin, standing incorrectly, or practicing imperfect fingerings.

However, if you want to understand the basics of the violin before taking classes or lessons, here are a few introductory steps.

1. Find the right spot

Where is the best place in your home to practice the violin? Your practice spot should be quiet and without distractions, have sufficient light, and have adequate space for your music stand.

You also might want room to store your violin and violin accessories when you’re not playing. Try out several rooms before deciding. It will make practicing a lot easier when you and everyone else in your household knows where your “official” practice area is!

2. Tighten the bow

There are several actions you need to take before actually playing the violin, and one of them is tightening your bow. Slowly turn the end screw of your bow clockwise until the space between the hair and your bow stick is approximately large enough so that a pen can pass through easily from tip to tip.

A teacher can help you judge the correct tension. Make sure that your fingers do not touch the bow hair; the oil from your fingers can negatively affect the sound and the hair. After you’re done playing, always loosen the bow hair. Leaving your bow tightened can damage the bow and hair, which can result in costly repairs

3. Rosin the bow

Rosin is a block of pine resin that you need to rub on your bow before playing so that you can create the friction needed to make sound. To rosin your bow, hold the rosin by the cardboard sides and firmly rub it up and down the length of the bow hair about three or four times.

This will transfer some of the rosin “dust” onto the hair, making it somewhat sticky. New bows often need more rosin than others. If you have trouble making a clear sound, rosin your bow with a few more strokes. Be careful not to apply too much rosin, or this will create a scratchy sound.

4. Tune your violin

Your violin needs to be tuned to ensure that you are playing the proper notes. The strings, from lowest to highest, are G-D-A-E. One method to tune your violin is to pluck the string while looking at an electronic tuner. Gently adjust either the pegs at the top of the violin, or the fine tuners (if you have them) at the bottom of your instrument.

5. Grip the bow

Gently place the middle part of your index finger on the slightly padded area of your bow, several inches above the tightening knob. Put the tip of your pinky on the flat part of the stick.

Your ring and middle fingers should rest with the middle section aligned with the tip of your pinky, and their tips should be on the side of the frog, which connects the tightening knob to your bow hair.

Your thumb should stay underneath the stick, at the front of the frog, near the bow hair. Keep your hand relaxed and somewhat curved. Your palm should not rest on the bow.

6. Hold the violin

Stand or sit with your back straight, yet relaxed. Place the thicker end of the violin to your neck. Rest the lower back of the instrument on your collarbone and hold it in place with your jaw. In time, you should be able to support your violin solely with your jaw and not with your right hand.

7. Watch bow pressure and position

Unfortunately, you can’t simply plop the bow on the strings and start sawing back and forth. To begin, place the flat part of the bow hair about halfway between the fingerboard and the thin piece of wood called the bridge, and angle the bow hair toward the bridge at a 45-degree angle.

When you are ready, pull the bow straight along each string, keeping it parallel to the bridge, while applying a small amount of pressure.

8. Play open strings

Open strings are strings that you play without using your fingers. Playing open strings will help you develop control of both your violin and bow. To play an open string, rest – but do not hold – the neck of the violin in between your left thumb and first finger.

Hold the bow with your wrist, elbow, and shoulder within a single plane on each string, then draw the bow across the string. Begin with short strokes of about six inches in the middle of the bow until you feel comfortable.

How much does a violin cost?

A violin for beginners can range from $100 to $1000. Intermediate level violins range from around $3000 to $6000, and some more expensive violins can range all the way into the millions.

For a beginning violin student, a less expensive violin is usually preferable, but be careful not to buy the cheapest, factory-made violin you can find. Lower quality violins can be difficult to tune and might not produce the purest sound.

You can purchase a violin online, at a website like sharmusic.com that specializes in stringed instruments, or at your local music store. If you’re looking to rent a violin, check out the nearest music studio.

What size violin do I need?

To size a violin, put it on your left shoulder. The end of the tailpiece should point right in toward the neck, and the instrument's scroll should point out toward the left side.

Try reaching out with your left arm and curling your hand around the scroll of the violin from underneath. When your left arm is extended, the tips of your fingers should touch the peg box on the near side of the scroll.

Usually, an eighth size violin will work for children ages 5-7, a quarter size violin for ages 7-9, a half size violin for ages 10-12, and a three-quarters size violin for ages 13-14. Keep in mind that these are only estimates, so be sure to size one for yourself.

What are the parts of a violin?

Starting from the top of the violin, here are the many parts of this diverse instrument.

The scroll is the top of the instrument above the pegbox.

The pegs fit into the scroll, hold the strings, and help with tuning.

The neck is the thin section between the scroll and the body, where the left hand grasps the violin and slides back and forth while shifting.

The strings are where you place the bow to create sound.

The fingerboard is the black portion on top of the neck and above part of body, where the fingers press down to change the notes.

The f-holes are the two s-shaped holes on either side of the body of the violin. They allow the sound to come out after the body of the violin amplifies it.

The bridge is usually lighter in color than the rest of the violin, and the strings run across it. It is a separate piece and is replaceable.

The sound post is visible when looking through the f-holes underneath the bridge. It is standing up inside the body of the instrument. This piece helps the body to more effectively amplify the violin's sound.

The tailpiece is the thin black piece below the bridge. It holds the strings from the bottom end.

The chin rest is the black piece where you place your chin. It is usually on the left side of the violin, but some are placed more towards the middle of the violin.

What are the benefits of playing violin?

If you’re thinking about taking online violin classes, get ready to discover the many benefits of playing this versatile instrument.

The benefits of playing violin go far beyond simply gaining the ability to play a new instrument. Take a look at what else the violin can do for you, below.

Physical benefits of playing violin

Increased arm strength - Playing violin can be quite tiring at first, because it’s a workout for your arm muscles and upper body! The more you play though, you’ll notice that your arms are becoming stronger, without making a single trip to the gym.

Increased finger dexterity - As you practice new violin techniques, your fingers will become more flexible. Learning difficult songs causes the fingers on your left hand to strain to reach certain strings, while the fingers on your right hand are learning to control the bow.

Improved posture - Another one of the benefits of playing violin is that it requires you to sit up straight and tall. Before you know it, you’ll find your back and shoulders becoming stronger and able to support your upper body with better posture.

Better coordination and motor skills - While playing the violin, you need to coordinate your fingers and arms simultaneously. Pressing a string with your left hand must match with the movement of the bow in your right hand. In this way, learning to play the violin increases your motor skills.

Mental benefits of playing violin

Boosted academic success - A study by the Willson Center for Humanities and Arts showed that children who play the violin often see a boost in academic achievement compared to their non-musical peers. The study explains that there’s a commonality of skills associated with playing the violin and excelling in school, including focused attention, critical thinking, and problem solving.

Better concentration - It takes a lot of mental effort to learn how to read violin music and translate notes on a piece of paper into sounds. You must remain focused while practicing the violin, so playing the instrument inherently improves your concentration and attention span.

Enhanced speaking skills - A study by the Institute for Music and the Mind at McMaster University found a relationship between a child’s musical training and their word decoding skills, a fundamental part of learning to pronounce specific words. According to the study, this occurs because music lessons train the auditory abilities necessary for correct word pronunciation.

Sharpened memory - Your muscle memory will improve as you become more proficient at playing the violin. You’ll also have the opportunity to memorize songs and play them without sheet music, which is a fun mental challenge!

Lower stress levels - On a stressful day, playing the violin is a healthy way to let off some steam. The sound of the music itself can be therapeutic, and playing a song that you know well provides even more relaxation.

Greater perseverance - Beginners to the violin should expect to complete many hours of practice in order to see improvement. These hours will lead to greater perseverance though, and at the end of it all you’ll get to enjoy the fruits of your labor in the form of beautiful music that you can create yourself.

Improved self-discipline - Practicing the violin to become a better player is your responsibility alone. It’s also your job to tune, clean, and replace the strings on your instrument so that it lasts. These actions are enough to create self-discipline in any new musician.

Social benefits of playing violin

More confidence - Playing in front of a group of people at a concert or recital is nerve-racking, but stepping outside of your comfort zone will give you more self-confidence than ever. This confidence spreads to other areas of your life as well, such as speaking in public!

Greater sense of community - Playing the violin automatically creates a bond between you and others who play the instrument, as well as musicians in general. You’ll feel part of something important, which can bring great fulfillment to your life.

Opportunities to socialize - As a violinist, you’re bound to have concerts and recitals you can invite your friends and family to. This could open the door to other social opportunities, like finding other musicians to jam with.

Stronger collaboration skills - If you’re an orchestra member, then you already know how each person needs to play their individual parts just right. In this sense, playing the violin will teach you a lot about teamwork and holding up your end by mastering even the trickiest parts of a song.

How do you tune a violin?

Before joining in on group violin classes, you need to make sure your instrument is ready and tuned. Most modern violins can be tuned in two places – the pegs, located in the scroll of the violin, and the fine tuners, located in the tailpiece.

The pegs are better used for large changes in pitch, while the fine tuners are better for smaller adjustments. Tightening the strings will make the pitch higher, while loosening them makes the pitch lower.

Since fine tuners are a relatively more modern invention, some violins don't have them. For violins without fine tuners, pegs are used for all tuning, regardless of the size of the pitch change.

What are the notes on a violin?

The four strings of the violin are tuned in fifths. They are, from highest to lowest, tuned to E, A, D, and G. The G string is the G below middle C. The highest string (E) is always the furthest out toward the audience when the violin is held on the shoulder in playing position.

To play the notes in between, the player presses his or her fingers down on the fingerboard in the correct places. Generally, each finger is responsible for one note, regardless of whether it’s natural, sharp, or flat.

Over time, your fingers will learn to associate the proper position for the natural, sharped, and flatted versions of each note.

How do I get better at violin?

For beginners to the violin, the road to success is riddled with lessons in patience and self-discipline. But when met with enthusiasm and the right guidance, the journey is certainly worthwhile! Here are eight ways to improve your violin playing skills.

1. Take violin classes or lessons

The best way to ensure you’re getting the right guidance while learning to play the violin is to sign up for violin classes or lessons. Online violin classes are especially helpful for learning the proper technique so you can build on the right foundation as you progress.

An experienced teacher can help spot specific areas that you can improve on in your violin playing. When looking for a violin teacher, here are a few things to consider:

The teacher’s understanding of the violin’s mechanics

His or her knowledge of universal music and repertoire

His or her own personal playing skills

His or her communication skills

Above all of these characteristics, the most important thing to consider is the teacher’s understanding of the learning process; it must correlate with where you are as a student and your ability to learn.

2. Practice efficiently

To get the most out of your practice sessions, make sure to practice when you feel the most fresh and focused. For some, this might be first thing in the morning; for others, it could be right after school or work. Try following a routine that accommodates your natural energy peaks or dips.

If you feel drained during long practice sessions, try splitting your practice into two shorter sessions. Whatever the case, make sure that you’re practicing consistently. Also, keep your environment – where you’re playing – in mind. Make sure you’re in a quiet space that allows for minimal interruptions.

3. Focus on quantity

When it comes to your violin practice sessions, it’s less about how long you’re practicing for and more about what you’re achieving in each session. Sure, repetition of exercises can be helpful, but be careful that it doesn’t become mindless!

Mindless practice can lead to the reinforcement of mistakes. Keep your practice sessions at a length that you can maintain concentration at – this way, quality will trump quantity, and that’s what your aim should be if you’re looking to improve faster.

4. Get limber

While warming up with exercises or scales and trills can begin to feel like a chore after a while, they’re crucial to strengthening your fingers before any proper violin playing can begin.

Practice holding your bow before even picking up your violin – and when you do start practicing, ensure that you relax your bow hand in between exercises by vigorously shaking out tension without the bow in hand.

5. Practice more scales

Many people tend to rush through areas of difficulty when learning violin. Instead, learn how to play a challenging scale slowly until you get it right, and then speed it up.

You have two options when it comes to practicing a new scale: academic or physical. The academic approach relies on you being comfortable with looking at the music, learning the signature key, and then figuring out the relative minor and major keys.

The physical approach can be a little more exciting. It relates to feeling the occurring tones and semitones by observing the spaces between fingers. Either way, you should practice all scales slowly and in detail until you can do them smoothly.

Another tip is to try practicing scales in front of a mirror. This will help you simultaneously develop a few other techniques, like correct arm positioning during shifts or wrist flexibility.

6. Try bow exercises

There are many bow exercises you can start doing to improve how you play the violin in terms of grip and posture, and many of them can be done without the use of a violin at all. Here is one of our favorite bow exercises.

Step 1: Hold the bow out horizontally in front of your body.

Step 2: Assume the proper bow hold.

Step 3: Start to alternatively push your first finger down, dipping the bow down a tad to the left.

Step 4: Now push your little finger down, dipping the bow down to the right.

Step 5: Try keeping your fingers bent while repeating this movement several times.

With repetitive practice of this simple exercise, you’ll start to experience the benefits of your newly-found finger strength, flexibility, and bow balance!

7. Record yourself

Record yourself while playing the violin to discover areas that sound like they need improvement. As you listen to yourself play, see if you’re missing tones or not quite getting the rhythm right. Recording your practice sessions also helps document your development and makes you more comfortable with the idea of performance.

8. Listen to other violinists

To help you stay in tune, it’s important that you improve your ear by listening to the pieces you’re learning daily. You’ll need to hear how an accomplished violinist handles things like style, pitch, rhythm, and tone.

Worried you don’t have time? Make this a part of your daily routine by listening to violin music while you work out, cook, or during your commute. As you do this, try to get in a variety of both passive and active listening.

Passive listening includes going to inspirational concerts and live performances. Active listening, on the other hand, consists of listening to these pieces with your violin and bow in hand.

While actively listening, you can work through details relative to tune. It’s important that you listen intently, to a point that you can identify downbeats and timing with accuracy.

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honestsycrets · 6 years ago

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Bridal Price V

Masterlist

Gif Credit: Me!

Thor thrashes his hammer that evening. The sun was blotted out as if Hati had devoured it when you were inside sewing the embroidery on Earl Lagertha’s newest dress. You should have been watching most closely for this-- after all, it was your duty to care for the pieces you made. Since running away from Hvitserk, however, things were fuzzy in your mind. It had been two months since you had last seen him and you had no time for games, there were festivals to be had and if you ever were going to meet anyone new it would be then.

“Wait!” Came the quiet prince. Hvitserk, the hungry one, who helped you gather the heavy woolen material back into your woven basket. Your hair strung about your face, whipping around as you gather your clothes back into your basket. With his aid and height, it was easier to gain the pieces higher up on your heavy wooden stand. Sure, you’re momentarily thankful… but when you see that jaunty little smile in his eyes, it all comes flooding right back.

“Thank you Prince Hvitserk.” You say. “I should go back inside and dry these off now.”

He tilts his head harshly, as if shocked, he might have been too. “I am a man, let me help you get it in.”

You look up to him, rushing down the muddy streets that have your ankles sinking in soft mud. You shake your head about a million times. “I have it.” You respond curtly, sticking to it this time. If you let him talk you back, it would be the same. This time… oh this time would be different in a million and one different ways.

Your words aren’t completely stringing together for the hungry prince. “Then tomorrow?” He suggests with a hint of hopefulness tied to his voice. If cuddles after a rainy day didn’t sound good, you didn’t know what would.

“No.” You answer, coming the the doorway of your home. You open the door, shoving the sopping clothes in and nearly following after when Hvitserk grasps your wrist with a bruising grip to his war calloused hands.

His stunned eyes reflect the tightness your hand in his wrist. “Why not?”

You roll your lower lip into your mouth. “Because I do not want to.” You respond. “I would like to dry off however.”

Hvitserk yanks you back off the steps up to your home, twisting you around to grab your other wrist. “You never say no.”

Was he intending to bully you back into his bed? Your teeth clench, resolving yourself with a face of tension to look him into the eye. Beyond his soft, puppy like cheeks with peppered facial hair, his eyes hold an insulted quality. He looks to you shaken as if Ubbe had told him no more bread or something so ridiculous.

“I don’t want to sleep with you anymore.” You muster the courage to speak the thoughts that had been whirling through your head the last week or more.

“Is there another man?” Hvitserk says so quickly that you snap your hand away from his wrist to smack him across the face. His jaw snaps to the side, water running over the bridge of his nose to dribble onto his full lips.

“No, of course there isn’t.” Your voice is stern, unrelenting. “I’m only… over the women and the drama. I’m over you.”

As if a weight came over his head, he pulls back with a ‘huh’ bouncing off his lips. It’s long enough for you to rush up the stairs and out of his grasp. He realizes as much, moving after you a fraction too late. The heavy door knocks closed in his eyes, causing him to look lower… and lower, over the heavy weight door. He notices something for the very first time. Your name carved over the door. He knows as much-- because while the name always escaped him, he could make it out in a set of names. It was a bit too late.

It paid to fuck out his worries on another woman. Revna was his new default… easy, she was easy. A big busted bimbo who couldn’t care less if her name was remembered. Then he would come to the Great Hall with his drink, religiously. It felt… dull to him. As if there was no interest in what he were doing anymore without your warm smile on Kattegat’s pier when he came home.

“Are you taking Revna dancing?” Ubbe asks, Margrethe was square on his lap. He says nothing, shaking his head lightly.

“She has others lined up.” He says.

“(Y/N)?”

His ears burn. He knew you were going to show up, probably with your goading father finally having the last laugh. He intends to take you back. Every instant of his mind filled with thought of it. Others filter into the Great Hall-- and his first look at you leaves his heart strumming. Any man knew that a poor man with a good wife was a rich man indeed. You were flawless with your hair twisted, bouncing around your shoulders as you walk in with the finest dress he had seen that night. It should be no surprise given the seamstress you were. Yet it always took his breath away.

He stands up with his cup about his chest, hopping down the stairs and past Ivar who drags himself back up. He finds you beside another man with braided sides to his black hair. A trim black beard and warm, honey brown eyes make up the man’s innocent appearance. The two of you laugh and joke, a brightness coming to your cheeks he hadn’t seen in months of stalking you. You lean against a heavy table, laughing about something he can’t quite here. The sear burning in his heart is enough to cause him to intervene-- a prince had nothing to worry of.

“Come here.” Hvitserk grasps your wrist brusquely, yanking you apart from your companion. Most men would have let him but this one cuts him off. A brazen man with scars over his cheek and a nose that probably had been broken one too many times.

“Let her go.” He demands.

It’s an impulsive, split second decision. In a second Hvitserk’s fist collides with the man’s throat. You stumble back, hitting one of the Great Hall’s firm wooden tables as the two roll about on the ground, exchanging punches. Ahead of you, Ubbe places Margrethe on the table, wandering down the stairs with a long, drawn out sigh. He pulls the two men apart long enough for Hvitserk to grasp the grip of his blade and draw it with a long metallic hiss of the blade in its sheath. Ubbe groans, turning around to look at Hvitserk.

“Put that away.” He flicks his fingers at his little brother.

“He was taking my woman.” Hvitserk says gruffly.

You lean down to help this strange man up, inciting Hvitserk to lurch forward with the blade. Ubbe grabs his brother’s shoulder to anchor him in place. Your thumb comes back over the man’s bloody nose, gasping incredulously to Hvitserk.

“I am not your woman, Hvitserk.” You wipe blood streaming down over the coarse, dark beard of this new man. “This man did nothing to incite that, either. I hope he’ll have to account for this at the Thing, Prince Ubbe.”

The oldest of the brothers has no choice but to nod as you turn this Earl about, showing him to a bowl of water supplied by a thrall. Hvitserk lurches as if to follow and is quickly shoved in another direction by Ubbe.

“Walk it off Hvitserk.” He snears. “There are other women.”

He is leaded out with shoves out the door of the Great Hall. Hvitserk finally sheathes his sword and whips about, his hands tight on the splintering wood that kept their animals within a pin.

“Who was that man!?” He sneers.

“An Earl.” Ubbe stands with his legs slightly spread, arms tight over his chest. “Who you attacked without just cause.”

“I had cause. Whoever he was, he was in my way.” He rasps lowly. Hvitserk wipes blood from his cracked lip, spitting out bloody saliva. As far as Hvitserk was concerned, another man couldn’t just walk in on his woman! If he made you his… it was for a reason. He had a reason.

“There are more women, Hvitserk.” Ubbe reasons with his wayward brother. Hvitserk throws Ubbe a look over his shoulder, a dark one. His eyes spiral with an obscure hate. He turns around, daring to get into his brother’s face.

“But that one is MINE!” Hvitserk roars loudly enough that bystanders rush away. Hvitserk, usually so meek when with Ubbe, shoves his brother back. “I’ll kill him, brother. He’s dead!”

Ubbe leans back on his heels, looking down with parted lips at his brother. If ever he has known his baby brother, it was now. Hvitserk’s words aren’t warning, but a statement. He doesn’t recognize the boy in front of him.

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#Hvitserk x Reader #Hvitty x Reader #Hvitserk/reader #Hvitty/reader #Bridal Price #Vikings imagines #vikings imagine #vikings #vikings/reader #Hvitserk's heathen feast

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