#If only Nils was alive now

[calaisreno]

Imagine

1024 words / Prompt: Empty

Let’s say it didn’t happen that way. Instead, let’s say John looks up a moment sooner, and sees Sherlock approaching. He has a minute to process what he sees instead of realising it later, when the waiter is rambling on about vintages and stranger’s gazes….

Maybe he’s just had a thought about Sherlock, about how he wouldn’t be sitting here with a ring box if Sherlock hadn’t died. He might be a bit sad, trying to buoy himself up to smile when Mary returns, and he looks up to check whether she’s on the stairs yet— and he sees Sherlock instead.

And Sherlock— let’s say he’s had a giddy thought about pretending to be a waiter, but now he’s seen John’s face and isn’t sure what to do. He’s come through the door, and the headwaiter’s phone is buzzing, and he’s just staring at John. 

Maybe John thinks it’s an hallucination. Maybe he’s seen Sherlock (ghost? Vision? Hallucination?) before now— across a crowded street, disappearing into a Tesco or coming up from the underground. Maybe he’s heard that voice. (Sitting in his chair one evening, a voice drifts up from the street below— he can’t even make out words, but he knows. By the time he’s out the front door, looking around, wild-eyed, there is no Sherlock in sight.)

He listens, always.

He’s not good at deducing things like this, but when he sees Sherlock, he might notice something, a detail he wouldn’t have imagined. He looks tired, thin, sad. Not the way John usually remembers him. 

If John tries to remember him, it’s always with his coat swirling, his collar popped, his hair a bit windblown. It’s the Sherlock who gives him that smile, the one he reserves for John, who has no idea what it means. But he knows that it’s only for him. 

Let’s say that here and now, on the edge of this knife, about to change his whole life, giving it to a woman who has been good to him, saved him from drowning in grief— let’s say that when he sees Sherlock, he realises that he’s not certain. 

Maybe he doesn’t really love her. They could get married and he’d learn to love her. But she might grow tired of him, impatient if he keeps talking about Sherlock, or even silently missing him. He should be over that by now. 

Maybe she isn’t who she seems to be. He wonders what Sherlock would deduce if he got a look at her. 

He wonders if he wants to know.

Let’s say that Sherlock, when he sees John’s awful moustache, realises that it’s too late, that John has moved on. He’s had this thought before, if he’s honest with himself. He got careless in Serbia because he kept thinking two years, two years, too long... 

He’s looking at John and he’s suddenly ashamed. Never ashamed that he loves John, but ashamed that he never said, that it was always something he put off saying because he had calculated the possibility of John loving Sherlock at nil. Even if he once might have been open to that (unattached, like me…), how could John love Sherlock now, when he’s grieved for two years, believing a lie that Sherlock orchestrated? John is alive, and that’s all he wanted. What he wants now, he sees he can’t have, and he’s ashamed. 

His face flushing, he turns back the way he came in, pushes past several people waiting to be seated. He flees the look on John’s face. He’s mortified that he came here, thinking he’d make John laugh, see him smile, and sweep him away, back to Baker Street. 

He’s got on with his life.

Outside, he stands on the pavement, deleting the happy scene he’d imagined. 

Is that sentiment talking?

Everything will be different now from what he’s imagined. He might hail a taxi and go home— 

But it isn’t home now. It’s an empty house, without John. 

Imagine John now, seeing the hallucination turn away, exit the restaurant. He doesn’t think about Mary or the ring or what he’s going to say to her. He stands, stumbles away from the table, then runs towards the door. 

He sees him from the back— a tall man wearing a dark coat, the collar up, curly dark hair. His head is bowed, his shoulders slumped. 

It can’t be. 

But at this moment, before he takes another step into a new life, he’d rather make a fool of himself than dismiss the possibility that it could be him. 

One more miracle, for me.

If anyone could be that clever, fake his own death, and return—

Sherlock raises his head, gathering himself for what’s next. There is no solution. He can’t go back, so he must go forward. He’ll see John at some point, and he’ll apologise. If he’s lucky, John will accept his explanation. But they’re in different timelines now: John moving into the future, Sherlock stuck in the past. 

He raises his hand to hail a cab. 

Imagine: a hand on his back, tentative, trembling.“Sherlock?”

Imagine: the face he always looks for, the voice he still hears. “John?”

Let’s say it happens this way. 

John doesn’t hit Sherlock. He falls into the arms that are already open to receive him. He weeps. He curses. He laughs. And weeps some more. 

Sherlock doesn’t make fun of John’s moustache. He doesn’t make a joke about tuxedos, or say, short version, not dead. Instead, he reaches for John, saying, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… 

John forgets about Mary. He hugs Sherlock.

When Sherlock asks, “Your date?” John hits his forehead, pulls out his phone and sends a text. Something’s come up. I’m sorry. We’ll talk tomorrow.

John forgets about Mary, again. He looks up at Sherlock, who is smiling now, giving him that look, the one that’s only for him. 

Sherlock can’t let go. He’s not sure what comes next, but he’s less afraid now, and maybe he can finally say it. 

John remembers every time he went to Sherlock’s grave, never able to say it. 

“I love you.”

Let’s say it happens like that. 

[algumaideia]

Now one plus one equals two, that happens every day, that is not magic. That's the grind. That's when you get up, one. Go to work, one. Go to bed, two. Two, geniuses, two. But when one plus one equals three, that's when your life changes, and you see everything new, and these are days when you are visited by visions, when the world around you brings down the spirit and you feel blessed to be alive. It is the essential equation of love. There is no love without one plus one equaling three. It's the essential equation of art. It's the essential equation of rock 'n' roll. It's the reason the universe will never be fully comprehensible. It's the reason Louie Louie will never be fully comprehensible. And it's the reason true rock 'n' roll, and true rock 'n' roll bands, will never die

[...]

Now Gary, Danny, Little Steven, Mighty Max, Professor Roy, Nils Lofgren, Patty Scialfa, that is my one plus one equals three. Excellent, grasshopper! But nobody captured my audience's imagination or their hearts like Clarence. Clarence was, Clarence was a figure out of a rock 'n' roll storybook, and together, we told a story that was bigger than any of the ones I had written in my songs. It was a story where not only does Scooter and the Big Man bust the city in half, but we remade the city. We remade the city shaping into the kind of place where our friendship and our love for one another wouldn't have been such an exceptional thing. First night I saw Clarence he came walkin' out of the shadows towards the band stand, nodded to me, got up, stood to my right, for the very first time. He picked up his saxophone, and when he played - when he played, he whispered that story in my ear. And then we whispered it into your ear, and we carried it together for a long, a long good time. The Big Man was big. Everything about him. His personality, his size, his laugh, the sound of his saxophone. When I first heard it I thought it was the biggest sound I ever heard. And it was. His heart, his problems - they were big. But he was elemental in my life. And losing him was like losing the rain. If I were a mystic, if I were a mystic, I guess Clarence and mine's friendship would lead me to believe that we, we stood together in other older times, ya know and uh, in other lives, along other rivers, in other ancient cities, in other fields, workin' side by side, with the sun settin', doin' our modest version of God's work. I'll see you in the next life Big Man

[alastair-1205]

EPISODE 20 REACTIONS FUCKING FINALLY I think I hurt my wrist typing all this ngl. Holy fuck this show-

I am very scared :D 

At least they can still kick ass 

Cinder just cannot stop beating up Euphrasia damn

Stick!

OK SO LOOSING POWERS DOES HAVE AN EFFECT ON YOU THEN 

Im not normal about elemental powers 

Oh no Robie don’t get murdered-

He has the right idea tho with the cup thing

Zane is trying his fucking best rn lol 

Arin is not having any of it 

Oh shit yea they don’t know…all of that other stuff yet huh

THEYRE BACK NICE

Wdym captured by them?? Wtf happened to those two

Cinder is going to kill someone I stg 

LMAO respect where it’s due, that was funny

Robie îs only partially getting kidnapped don’t worry

FUCK YEA FRACK THIS IS WHY I LOVE YOU

I love Nook’s voice as well

FUCK YEA JORDY WIN BACK UR BRAIN

Oh that’s not good 

HELL YEA ARIN 

He’s gonna almost die isn’t he

LMAOOOOOOOOO 

Oh ow rip Robie 

Holy shit that’s actually insane 

OH GOD HE FELL ENTIERLY OFF THE EDGE JESUS 

Oh god they’re all fucked up

JORDY!

Hey the car’s back! AND SO IS JORDANA

OH GODDDDD

OH FUUUUUCK 

RAS AND ARIN MAKE ME INSANE THEY’RE BOTH SO COMPLEX HOLY FUCKKKK

At least most of them are out of it

Bro Robie is making friends with some rocks right now 

BADASS FIGHT IS BADASS

“Not from you” DAMN

OH. OH LLOYD KNOWS. HE KNOWS AND HE KNOWS HE CANT FIGHT IT OH GOD IM GONNA CRY 

ROBIES ALIVE 

I FUCKING LOVE HER SO MUCH 

I LOVE HOW HE WASNT EVEN BOTHERED JUST CONFUSED LMAO 

They’re actually adorable. Like I low-key didn’t want her to get a bf but this is so cute good for them 

But uh, y’all kinda have shit to do first-

Zdmn she almost got decapitated 

OH DAMN THIS IS PERSONAL

Bold choices Arin

KAI AND BONZEL 

Nil kinda wish he stayed in super hell longer but it’s ok 

CUZ THAT WAS A FUCKING ENTRANCE 

Oh hes pisssedddddd

They are such a dynamic duo omg that was iconic 

FUCK YEA ROBIE 

GET IT GEO 

LMAO that was personal for Euphrasia. Good for her 

LMAO HES JUST GETTING FUCKING DRAGGED HELP

BOLD CHOICES ARIN I STG 

Oh that scream :(((((

Oh fuuuuuck Arin made his choice 

Group hug :D That Lloyd isn’t in cuz he’s having a moment D:

BONZEL AND COLE :D

I’m just gonna assume he somehow knew she wasn’t dead ig? 

Wu being cryptic as always. We don’t even know if hes dead or not 

LMAO CINDER IN JAIL GET FUCKED

Yay for Sora but she is Not having a good time rn huh

Damn I wonder where Jordy went 

Lloyd and Sora man…..

That is a very good question Sora

THEYRE HOLDING HANDSSSSS

Kai should give this kid a shovel talk. I think it’d be funny 

GEO FRACK AND BONZEL AND FROCHICKY YAY

THEYRE GONNA TRACK DOWN JAY

Damn so they could be literally anywhere. They gotta track down Jay Arin and Pixal. At least Zane might get some time to look now

Dragon lady’s back 

I’m glad she’s not being a dick to him like Egalt would have been lol 

Oooooo Dragon favor 

Oh that’s an interesting thing for him to have 

I like how Arin’s reasonings are worded. Like he clearly still doesn’t exactly like Ras, he just needs him for his own thing. I really like that as opposed to Arin fully believing in what he’s doing cuz Arin just wouldn’t 

[saynomorefic]

hi June! every little snip you've posted so far has been so delicious. what is "Olympian"? xx

Hello hello :) Why thank you, I appreciate the love <33

Also thank you @simonsapelsin for this request as well!

This was supposed to be my fic of the summer, and then Let's take this overboard happened.

I give you Olympian diver Simon and swimmer Wille!

--

“What?” Wille scoffed, shoving the ipad back into Henry’s hands. 

“Nothing. Except I noticed you follow each other on Instagram. And you’ve liked every one of his posts, since like, 2018.”

“Okay, so. He’s the only male diver in Sweden who’s qualified for the Olympics in like, ten years.” 

“Fair enough.” Henry shrugged, pulling up their itinerary. “It looks like - okay - apparently we are supposed to have a Swedish delegate dinner tomorrow evening, with only athletes from Sweden - the Prime Minister is coming, and the Queen will call in live to wish us well.” 

“Hm.” Wille responded, trying his best to not think about how he will soon not only be in the same room, multiple times, with Simon Eriksson, but they will also soon be sharing a small jet with all of twenty people. 

“Wasn’t he nominated for Sexiest Man Alive?” Henry asked absently. He definitely was, and Wilhelm definitely did buy the edition at the supermarket without thinking twice. It was a matter of Nationalism, really; it was quite exciting Sweden was sending a male diver to the Olympics, and he was sure at some point they would meet each other. He didn’t want to seem oblivious. 

“I think so.” Henry looked at him appraisingly, then shrugged. 

“Whatever. You hungry? I’m dying to get a sandwich or something.” Wille shrugged back, and they left their bags right out in the open because they were in a private lounge, awaiting a private jet, in the private section of the Stockholm airport. 

Wille got his usual, always gravitating towards lean meats and white bread for his macros. He shuddered when Henry asked the server for extra mayo. They wandered back to the private wing, nodding at the security guard who saw their badges and let them through. 

When they rounded the corner into the lounge, Wille stopped short. Simon Eriksson himself was sitting there, right next to Nils, laughing at something he said. His eyes were light and crinkled at the edges, and basically Wille’s world careened to a halt. 

Nils looked equally amused, and Wille was not sure he’d ever thought of Nils as a particularly funny person. Simon’s eyes trailed forward to Wille and Henry, and his face shifted into a gentle smile. He was looking right at Wille. 

“Hey,” Henry said, lifting his hand in an awkward wave. Wille reminded himself to tell Henry he really was his best friend later, when they got to their room. For now, Wille gratefully trailed alongside him. 

“Hey,” Simon said, standing and reaching out his hand first to Henry, then to Wille.” “Simon, it’s nice to meet you.” Was he imagining that Simon said it directly to Wille?

“Hey, Wilhelm. But you can call me Wille,” he managed to sound more assured than he felt. Simon’s hand was warm, soft, and sturdy in his hand. 

“Wille.” Simon smiled again, the corners of his eyes pulling up slightly. It sent butterflies into Wille’s stomach. “That’s nice.”

He looked to Henry, then back to Wille. “I hear we’re sharing a suite.” Simon glanced over at his manager, a woman in her thirties typing furiously on her laptop. She nodded without looking up. “Yep. Top floor, all the way to the right.” Simon grinned, and Wille could’ve imagined it, but in one split second he thought he saw Simon wink at him. 

[neptuniadoesstuff]

Elmwire Forest + The Copycat (Land of Fable Landmarks/Creatures #01)

Elmwire Forest is a Forest coveted in dark roots that seem to pulsate like bl00d... No one knows the origins of the place nor who created it (As Mina strictly stated that she NEVER made the place before nor has been there ever). It's known for being located in the bottom of the Earth Quad & there are warning signs to never go there's lest you wanna see the consequences of what you've done

Its a very dangerous place only the most known & fearless individuals can go to explore, so often the military based metros/trains (usually seen in Æruss'a) go there with the strongest & highest ranked soldiers to deal with whatever is in there. But somehow these soldiers... unfortunately don't make it out alive... But there has been a instance where a soldier did go out alive. She was a Nil/Apnoaw hybrid who somehow was spared but everyone else in her squad wasn't, now facing major ptsd from her OWN FRIENDS, who she thought of like family, die right in front of her!

One of the dangerous creatures (& also what was the reason for the soldiers not coming back alive other than that one single mynk) was a certain entity just referred to as "Mirrored Flesh" or "The Copycat". This entity is entirely made of black roots that are made of the same material of the trees with extremely sharp teeth & a very creepy smile. However this entity doesn't seem to target Nils, as for some reason it sees them as their own but will attack ANYONE who isn't a Nil (this includes mortals).

Now the reason why this creature us called "The Copycat" is bcs it's known to mimic other beings & individuals + CAN EVEN MIMIC THEIR VOICES but the only imperfection of theirs is that.... it's that thing's mouth & eyes... While the creature IS POWERFUL it isn't immortal since it does have 3 hearts & when the remaining soldier who found this creature shot it out of self defense, she shot it's heart which remains 2 hearts. It's like a vampire you can't truly kill unless you target it's heart.

The being also has a major need to infect others with this strange disease called "Elmwire disease" or "Shadowroots Syndrome" which is a dangerous disease which can kill the person if not treated instantly. When it bites you, not only it's taking your DNA to copy your appearance BUT ALSO infecting you!

Its said in some fables, "The Copycat" used to be a normal Nil who then unexpectedly mutated (which Nils should do, if they mutate it's causes them major pain thus having them to be "neutralized"... (aka a mercy kill)) which explains why it only spares Nils & no one else. But that doesn't explain the whole "pulsating black roots" part of the creature.

The Forest itself does have other creatures like a few crabs, slugs, & weird flying bug bats which are often found on the surface of the forest. The forest is a huge (but not huge huge, just bigger than your average city. Basically as big as a mega city) & dark, so you must ALWAYS bring a light weither it be a lantern or a torch.

& even though it's a part of the Earth Quad, no Eldahk Mynk really want to be near it as some stories say that they can hear the dying screams & terror of what seems to be mortals in the forest... As if the creature found them and took them there for their... next meal...

Yeh that's it for my ABSOLUTELY HORRIFYING lore about wtf I have been thinking of for these past secs. I hope you enjoyed reading this, but if not... I'm very sorry for your mental health.

[mangoshorthand]

Arrow of Time: Chapter 3 [Five Hargreeves/ F Reader]

(Hard Feelings Part 5)

SUMMARY: When the mother of all teenage tantrums causes time itself to fracture, Five has to travel back to 1831 to repair the damage. But will he be able to cope with what he finds there? Chapter 4 >> << Back to Chapter 2

A panicked Five calls for help.

Author dicking around with tense to come. Proceed at your own risk.

Chapter 3: Déjà vu

Five’s shout and forward lurch barely registered to Aoife, far too busy staring at the place her mother vanished.

“Mom! Mom?”

Her head turned uselessly, looking to her father with eyes begging him to make it all okay.

“Dad! I didn’t…I didn’t mean.”

But Five ignored her, already feeling around in the air at the point where his wife was only a moment previously.

“Dad, I’m s-”

“Quiet, kid.” he murmured, face screwing up in concentration. Something was wrong…and he couldn’t get a read on it; couldn’t sense its logic. It wasn’t like the nonsense portals she produced when she was in her mother’s womb: the electrical signatures of those were alive with dissonant, illogical calculations: all correct in their constituent parts, but gibberish as part of the whole. This? All he got was resounding silence.

Ok: it was time for plan B. He marched over to Aoife and reached for her, making her flinch, but he only grabbed her upper arm in one hand.

“D-dad?”

He clenched his other fist and summoned the power necessary to turn back the seconds…but nothing happened. There’s no contraction to step into : no thickening of the atmosphere allowing time itself to become pliable. He’d only experienced this once before: when he’d arrived in his father’s custom-made universe and found himself without his powers. 

“Come on,” he murmured, trying again and finding himself unsuccessful again. Aoife, realizing what he was trying and failing to do, began to panic, crying in high pitched little squeaks. No doubt she would bruise from Five’s fingers, cutting painfully into her upper arm in his own fear.

“Hey, are you guys okay up there?” came Diego’s voice.

Aoife started to cry fully now, sniffling and sobbing. Five released her, brain racing a mile a minute. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. He breathed hard a few times though his nose, trying to ground himself and not give in to the feeling of his heart thudding in his head.

“No!” he yelled in the direction of the door, “It’s not good. I need help!” 

At the sound of heavy footballs as Lila, Diego and Luther approached at speed, Five finally made eye contact with his daughter. The abject fear in them pulled at his heart, even as his anger towards her grew… but he knew yelling would do no good. He had to keep his mind on the top priority.

Experimentally, Five made a short blink to the other side of the room as Diego opened the door.

“What’s going on?” his brother asked, entering the room with his wife and Luther. When he spotted Aoife’s red, tear-streaked face, he went to her immediately, “you ok, mija ?”

The tears came thick and fast then as Aoife laid her head on her Uncle’s chest. It wasn’t as comforting as if it was Dad, but Dad might not want to comfort her right now.

“Something’s seriously fucked up here,” Five rumbled, staring past the men and straight at Lila: probably his only hope. 

“What’s going on?” she said, business-like.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on, Lila. My daughter’s been playing around with time-travel. She pushed her mother into a portal and I can’t undo it. My time travel capacity is kaput. Nil. Fucked. All I can do is blink.”

His arm spasmed towards his face, slapping himself in the forehead in frustration. He did it slightly harder than seemed appropriate in instinctive self-punishment. 

“Woah there, Five,” said Luther. His voice was kind; quiet. It was understanding in a way that Five would have resisted were his brain not racing on other matter. 

In a flash of inspiration, he looked between Aoife and Lila, “both of you: tell me what you feel. Does something feel wrong to you? Time-wise, I mean?”

“You know I don’t touch the time stuff, old man,” said Lila, hands held up in surrender, “I wouldn’t know what I was feeling for.”

Aoife let go of Diego and took several deep breaths to calm herself. She closed her eyes and concentrated as if she was under her covers practicing short temporal jumps…but there was nothing there.

Trembling, she looked up at Five, “It feels wrong.”

He breathed out through his nose: it confirmed his own feeling. He bagan to pace, sweeping now-sweaty hair out of his eye. For the moment, he continued to ignore Aoife’s sniffles. He was running out of options; running out of opportunities…and he was starting to feel it again: he was backed into a corner, fighting against walls closing inexorably inwards. An icy hand gripped his heart. 

“I’ll be two minutes,” he snapped, blinking out of the room.

When he vanished, Aoife sobbed loudly and fell back into Diego’s arms. He rubbed her hair gently, like he did when she was a baby, looking between Lila and Luther for help. Luther shrugged with wide eyes and Lila looked irritated at the implied question: I know as much as you, shit-for-brains.

“So what happened?” asked Luther, gently but uncertainly.

“I did something to Mom!”

Her shaky breaths overtook speech momentarily and Diego soothed her gently. Lila approached and placed a hand on her arm. When she caught her breath again, it all came tumbling out.

“I’ve been practicing time jumps at night and I got pretty good. But then, today, Mom and Dad were yelling at me about it and I pushed Mom off me and…and I just…I don’t know what I did but she’s gone. She got…swallowed up! And I think I…I think I broke something.”

“You broke something?” Luther’s face darkened further with concern, leaning towards her in an attempt to identify a fractured extremity.

“She doesn’t mean a bone, moron,” said Lila.

 “Right, you,” she continued, turning to Aoife with raised, imperious eyebrows that commanded her attention, “you've got to pull yourself together: nobody ever saved their mum by whining.”

“Lila,” muttered Diego, still keeping one arm around his niece, “give the kid a break.”

Though Aoife was the same height as Lila, the size of the latter’s presence was always twice her stature.She grabbed one of Aoife’s hands and looked her straight in the eye.

“We’ll get her back, okay?”

Five wanted to pace around the study, (he wanted to kick the shit out of something actually), but he didn't have time. Every second might  be putting him further beyond solving this mess, might separate you from him irrevocably. He needed to work out what the hell was going on, fix it, grab you and get you home. You had to be somewhere. You had to be. 

He picked up a pen and scrawled a quick SOS. He was only surprised that Herb hadn't come already. What did it mean? Herb had promised to exhaust every available avenue before putting out another kill order on his family but Five had hoped to keep both of you squarely out of the firing line. Aoife would always be protected here, (he knew his brothers and Lila would fight tooth and nail to keep her safe), but you were in the wrong time or the wrong place or whatever. Even as he considered this, temporal assassins might be being mobilized. And that was honestly the best case scenario: what if you were nowhere? What if you were dead?

Hands shaking, he rolled the note into a scroll and wrenched open the panel concealed in the side of the mantel. Inside, the pneumatic pipeline waited for his communication, a store of canisters below. He seized one, unscrewed it deftly and shoved the paper haphazardly inside. Screwing the lid back on took far too long but he managed it and shoved the canister into place, slamming the seal onto the pipeline with more violence than haste.

But there was no answering suck to take the tube away to the Commission’s HQ. The canister stayed precisely where it was: uselessly in his pipeline. Disbelieving, Five removed the seal and slammed it home again: nothing. Removed it, slammed it, nothing.

“SHIT!”

He slammed the seal onto the pipeline again, again and again, getting more agitated each time it didn’t work. He could feel his teeth grinding, a vein throbbing in his temple.

“No. No! NO! LILA!?”

In under a second, Lila. Diego and Luther blinked into the room, dragged along by Aoife. Diego staggered away from the group, as usual looking as if he was about to barf.

“THE FUCKING STUPID FUCKING PIPELINE, LILA!”

“Calm down! Jesus, Five.”

She took the canister from him and pushed him a few steps away from the pipeline’s hidden cabinet. Five tried to slow his rage-panicked breathing as Lila tinkered with it, trying to get the canister to go. Recovered, Diego again held Aoife tightly to his side. All of them watched Lila, Aoife with pure terror.

Just as Luther approached to place a comforting hand on Five’s upper arm, he shrugged him off and began to pace, finally giving in to the urge. He’d been cut off once before, when the fetal Aoife’s nonsense portals had got her mother on the Commission’s hit list…but this wasn’t like that. The pipeline had been completely gone that time and Herb had sent him a final message to apologize. This…this wasn’t right.

“Yeah,” said Lila, even more worried now, “this pipeline is well and truly fucked.”

Even more dread filled Five as he caught Aoife’s eyes. He knew what this meant. Not again…it couldn't be happening again; he didn’t have it in him anymore. He was too old, too tired of staying one step ahead of impending doom. He’d had over a decade of rest but it just wasn’t enough and it never would be.

“What does it mean?” Luther asked, all of them looking to Five. He didn’t respond:  a  dull certainty flooding through him: he had to whether he wanted to or not. For Aoife and for you, he had to fight it whatever it takes.

To confirm his own dark conviction, he reached for the lower drawer in what was once his father’s desk and took out the Temporal Ambimeter he’s shown Aoife the previous week. He placed it on the desk and, sure enough, the needle representing absolute temporal polarity rolled loose on the dial measuring relative time.  

He was right: they’re screwed. And, again, it’s his fault.

He lifted his impossibly heavy hand to his face, squeezing his eyes closed behind the fingers he pressed hard into them.

“Dad?”

Her voice was small and, like a fine diamond-tipped knife, punctured his despair. He took a couple of deep, centring breaths before spreading his arms wide.

“ Vieni da me .”

She didn’t need to be told twice, blinking from Diego’s side and into his tight hug. He rested his chin gently on the top of her head and spoke comfort into the crown of her head.

“Dad, I’m so sorry !”

“I know, I know. Va bene, bambina. Va bene.”

“I want my Mom!” her tears soaked through his dress shirt as she said it. He rocked her gently and kissed her again. Just a kid. Not her fault.

“I know, sweetie. I know.”

Diego, confused and worried by Five’s lightning-fast change from rage to tenderness, spoke up now:

“Five, what the hell is happening here?”

He looked at his brothers and sister-in-law over the top of Aoife’s head. 

“Short answer: we’re on timeline-break highway heading to apocalypse-city.”

“Fuuuck,” Lila moaned.

“If you want the long answer, then Aoife accidentally knocked time itself off-kilter .” 

He continued to rock and caress his crying daughter, reassuring her without words. He liked to think that nothing would shake her security in how much he and her mom loved her but something like this, that was technically her fault, (even if it was his fault, really)? Anybody would beat themselves up over it. 

“I don’t know how,” he continued, “but it’s become...uncoupled from whatever keeps it on a level...mathematically sound, I mean.”

Lila looked grave.

“And what does that actually mean, grandpa? What's going to happen?” snapped Diego, as usual having little time for ideas that aren’t cut, dry and concrete.

“I don’t know,” Five snapped right back, “it’s unprecedented; absolutely illogical. I didn’t think it was possible. It means that my power won’t work properly, even to wind back a couple of seconds. It means the Commission’s instruments aren’t working because they’re all calibrated based on the idea of time having a logical polarity. That’s why the pipeline isn’t working- Herb will be going into total meltdown.”

Lila, understanding him first, finished for him.

“So…we’re living on borrowed time, right? Until someone cocks up the timeline so badly that they blow us all up or kugelblitz us into oblivion.”

Five pointed at her in a ‘ you got it’ gesture, “Bingo.”

“Shit.” muttered Luther

“But what about Mom?” 

Five’s chest hurt as she spoke the words.

He couldn't tell her what he knew: Aoife producing the exact same portal was the only hope to get you back and the only hope to fix this. There were no calculations he could do any more: no way to replicate what she did unless she did it herself. If she couldn’t do it then you’re lost for good…and the clock was ticking on the entire world (or it would be if the clocks could tick properly). It’s an option he didn’t allow himself to fully grasp. He couldn’t let it in

“I’m going to go get her.”

“Why not fix it and then go get her?” asked Diego, with uncharacteristic shrewdness.

“Because once we’ve fixed it, he won’t have a chance of finding out where she is,” LIla said, “Can’t replicate the maths on a portal with no maths. Am I right, Archimedes?”

Five nodded, ”Maybe…but I’m pretty sure that we’ll need a chronokineticist on either side of this mess to fix it.”

He stared down at the desk top for a few moments before grabbing pen and paper. 

“Give me ten minutes. I got an idea I might be able to turn into a theory.”

You land sprawled in a cobblestoned alleyway, a crack of static above your head signaling the disappearance of the portal. There’s the smell of smoke and what seems like manure. You push yourself to your feet,  the cold, uneven ground leaving sharp stones in your palms.

Staggering slightly, you look back up to where you fell and call, hands cupped over your mouth.

“Aoife? Five?”

Leaning against the alley wall, you can see only gray sky: not a hint of electricity: no self-contained storm of a way home. You jog down the alleyway and into the street, jostling indignant pedestrians and nearly falling down again as you run haphazardly into a horse…a horse pulling a coach along with three others. You fall onto the sidewalk in a sitting position, attracting stares from passers by and a “watch it, you damn lunatic!” from the irate coachman, trying to get his worried horses back under control.

You scramble up again, backing onto the sidewalk. It’s disorientating: bells, hoofbeats, the clack clack of wooden wheels on cobbles, the chatter of pedestrians, especially those staring at the frantic woman having fallen into the street. Desperate now, you look wildly around.

“Five?”

A man wearing a long coat ushers a group of gawking women away from you, forcing them to give you a wide berth as they pass. They’re all wearing long dresses, voluminous sleeves and bonnets.

Shit. This is a long time ago…they’re dressed like the women on the front of Five’s copy of Vanity Fair.

“Excuse me?” you spit out, desperately, “I’m sorry- what year is it?” 

One of the younger women giggles as the man chaperoning them scowls and puts his body in between you and her.

“Please?” you ask, looking the man straight in the face, “please help me!”

He averts his eyes and hurries the women away, “Never mind Louisa. It’s just some madwoman..”

You look down at yourself, wearing nightwear and a robe…this doesn’t look good for wherever you’ve landed. Backing up against a building lining the street, you look feverishly around for a clue. There’s a pawn shop, a bookstore, and a church. The street is lined with gas streetlights. Gigs, coaches and carriages pass by, all drawn by horses. Dogs and ragged children run free to wander the streets.

Another man walks towards you, wearing a top hat and long coat like the one who’d pulled those women away from you. He’s carrying a newspaper.

“Sir! Excuse me, sir! Can I see that newspaper, just for a second?”

More out of shock than a desire to help, he hands it over. You only need to read the date to confirm what you already know.

It's the New York Evening Post. Above all of the advertisements for ladies' corset warehouses, tutors specialising in the harp and pianoforte, and information on when the Napoleon and York ships would arrive from Liverpool, it reads:

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 24TH, 1830.

Having filled the piece of paper front and back with theoretical scribblings, Five sat back in the chair, the fear flooding back into him now he couldn’t keep his mind on something methodical. 

“Okay.” he said, hiding his panic and stroking his chin. “This looks like it has legs…”

He looked up: Aoife, Lila and Diego stood, watching him expectantly. As always, when shit hits the fan, it was still Five they turned to to fix it. He was scared to show them how much he’s improvising: how little he knew for sure. Trying to project confidence he didn’t feel, he told them:

“We’re sitting on a rip in time here and we gotta fix it from either end…or maybe kinda teach it how to fix itself. Here’s the plan: Lila, you and I are going to work together from either side of the portal, Aoife, it will be your job to send me through the rip you sent Mom through and then you can just leave the rest to us.”

He picked up his paper and waved it in Lila’s direction, 

“This is going to be a matter of  rebalancing. Time wants logic: we just gotta give it something to latch onto…it’s gotta relearn the balance.”

He clapped his hands together once as he stood to resume his pacing. 

“So, we got one thing going for us: because time is a giant ball of crazy right now, when I’m on the other side, a year to me wouldn’t register to you. That means, as long as I do it at some point , you’ll feel it happening the moment I step through, right?”

Lila and Aoife nodded, though Aoife did so uncertainly. Diego and Luther still looked confused but Five carried on regardless.

“The good news is, that gives me as much time as I need to find your Mom before I assess the situation from the other side. Then, I sit down and I work it out.”

“But didn’t you just work it out?” sputtered Diego, gesturing to Five’s sheet of paper with irritation.

Five sighed impatiently, “I worked out the THEORY. I didn’t work out how to put it into practice. I’m going to need to be there to do that. What part of ‘ it needs one of us on either side’ aren’t you getting?”

“Pretty much all of it.”

“Well,” Five said, losing patience very quickly, “I just thank the sweet Lord that this plan doesn’t include your dumb ass.”

“Five.” chastised Luther

Diego looked as if he wanted to snap back, but Lila spoke over him, sidling over and placing a hand on his chest.

“Ignore him sweetie. He's just antsy because his carer’s not around.”

Diego mumbled something about kicking Five’s ass but held his peace when Luther gave him a pained look that begged him to be patient with him. Five continued,

“Lila, all you need to do is stand near where I vanish and mimic me. Plug into my frequency and just spit it back towards me.”

“Roger that,” she barked, giving a sarcastic salute.

Five looked steadily at Aoife. 

“Aoife, when the time comes, you just gotta do the exact same thing to me as you did to your Mom. Just shove me through, don’t think about it too hard. Sound okay?”

She nodded slowly and then immediately shook her head.

“W-what if I can’t?”

“You can.” he said, simply, flashing her a bracing smile. He couldn’t let any seed of doubt sprout in her head….or in his own.

“Right.” he said, keeping the smile hoisted on his face, “I’m going to need a gun, some of Dad’s tackiest antiques and a warm coat.”

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh, @nevbrooke-555, @theredvelvetbitch, @td-miley01, @five-hxrgreeves, @rorygi1more, @jamiebower88

On to Chapter 4 >> Masterpost

[krispyweiss]

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band at Nationwide Arena, Columbus, Ohio, April 21, 2024

As he led the E Street Band through “Twist and Shout,” Bruce Springsteen betrayed a roached voice much as John Lennon had when the Beatles cut their version 60 years earlier.

But, like Lennon’s, Springsteen’s voice benefitted from its battered state - conveying joy and conviction, not exhaustion.

The house lights were on and the heart-stoppin’, pants-droppin’, hard-rockin’, Earth-quakin’, booty-shakin’, love-makin’, Viagra-takin’, history-makin’ - legendary - E Street Band had already been on stage for three hours April 21 as it played its twice-postponed-in-2023 gig inside Columbus, Ohio’s, Nationwide Arena to close the U.S. leg of its 2024 spring tour. Springsteen, who at 74 retains the energy and voice - acrobatic with guttural growls and falsetto cries - of a much-younger man, was sweat-soaked, his tie tucked into his blue shirt, his vest now removed, returned alone to close the show with an acoustic version of “I’ll See You in My Dreams.”

Death is not the end, he sang, while proving the life-affirming nature of live music.

Though the band could’ve phoned it in, the expanded 18-piece - augmented with four-voice choir and five-piece horn section - instead brought a loud hailer, opening the 30-song, 185-minute set with a grimy version of “Youngstown,” the first of a handful of tour debuts that included “Streets of Fire” and “I’m Goin’ Down.” That some songs were slowed by a quarter-step seems to have been the only acknowledgement of age.

So, if these guys are actually taking Viagra, it isn’t because of on-stage impotence. The band is so hot that even relatively weak songs like “Bobby Jean” and “Dancing in the Dark” are splendid in the moment.

A few scattered empty seats did nothing to temper the raucous atmosphere inside the hockey arena. Fans hoisted signs - “I’m Mary, thanks for all the songs” was among the best - and Springsteen sung a line of “Thunder Road” to a woman who’d been dancing furiously in front of the stage all evening, causing her to light up like a strobe. Though there was no crowd surfing during “Hungry Heart” - dude is 74, remember - Springsteen did go into the audience during “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out” as images of late E Streeters Clarence Clemons and Danny Federici shone on the house video screens.

Back on stage, the living celebrated being alive. Steven Van Zandt played a guitar emblazoned with the Ukraine flag during “No Surrender.” Fellow guitarist Nils Lofgren spun like the Tasmanian Devil as he unspooled his “Because the Night” solo. And Jake Clemons served as Springsteen’s saxophone-blowing foil and conjured Uncle Clarence’s spirit throughout the night, thus garnering some of the crowd’s loudest adulation.

One of those moments came during a religious-experience rendering of “Spirit in the Night,” when Clemons sat on the stage and Springsteen literally leaned on his bandmate. The music temporally settled before exploding like a supernova and the climax. This was the greatest E Street moment Sound Bites has witnessed since the Band reunited for the 1995 Concert for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

“Last Man Standing,” with Springsteen on acoustic accompanied by trombone, was a nod to his earliest bandmates, all gone now. “Trapped” was a singalong on the choruses. “She’s the One” borrowed the Bo Diddley beat. “Wrecking Ball” transformed the arena into the charismatic church of E Street. “Rosalita (Come out Tonight)” found the group mugging and celebrating with the faithful on a small chunk of stage that jutted into the general-admission pit. And the vaunted “Detroit Medley” once again demonstrated that if you have rock ’n’ roll in your life, your life has the potential to be heaven at any given moment.

Grade card: Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band at Nationwide Arena - 4/21/24 - A

See more photos on Sound Bites’ Facebook page.

4/22/24

[thunderjawsandlightning]

Having thoughts about the Gauntlet Racing squad and I just. I love them so much. They are a reflection and an embodiment of different aspects that are present in both Aloy and Nil. They are so important to Aloy's journey of self discovery and finding her own community of people that she can just be herself with. They are so healing to Nil and his struggles with his own (presumed) military-childhood past, and especially so with his desire and search for close bonds with people he can and will trust.

They are community and camaraderie that both Nil and Aloy have been missing in their search for who they are beyond a legacy they didn't ask for. Names and status and deeds don't mean anything on the track, it's just you, your mount, and your weapons.

They are an example of freedom and wanderlust, free to go wherever they please and always searching for something new. Not being bound to one place because you've already seen so much of the world, it's hard to think that you would settle in just one place when there's so much more of the world to be seen and to experience.

They see past tribe and clan differences for the more raw, primal instinct and exhilarating joy of a good challenge and feeling alive, of truly being in the moment. Not caught up in the macro politics of tribal traditions and rituals, of laws and rules that are put in place by those with power that affect so many more without. The racers live for the moment, live IN the moment, and embody so wholeheartedly of being of the world.

Nil seeing Aloy interact with the kids, and the kids claiming her as "one of them" as she participates in more and more races. Of seeing the hardened mask of the Hunt drop away for the thrill and elation of crossing the finish line first. Of wanting more of that freedom for her, of making the Offer to her to join them, even though he knows that she won't stray from her path until she sees it through because he would have done (and did) the same.

Aloy seeing the not-really begruding-turned-respectful admiration that the kids have for Nil. Of seeing him have a weight lifted from his shoulders, to step out (even just a little bit) from the shadow of the Red Raids and the actions that bloodied his hands and his soul. And him doing so by going back to a tribe that was once the Carja's fiercest opponent, and lands that were the site for the inception and birth of his macabre and much-whispered reputation. And now, he's no longer doing penance by roundabout means of socially acceptable justice (bandit hunting), but in a healing, tactile way that his C-PTSD can process and transform into productive, healthy action and habits (racing).

And all of that could only be facilitated by this stray band of kids, racing in the desert: quote: "...the glint of steel at high speed and metal haunches splashed with blood...", and Nil and Aloy each seeing them upon crossing the threshold of the landscape in their own time, and each of them being equally intrigued.

[yanderefairyangel]

Alright, comming back to the theory part 1 and 2

Hanging near the jpn side of the fandom is always interesting, really cause someone pointed out how Elyos and XenElyos are ... twin world.

“Twins in Japanese Culture: Superstitions and Beliefs” – Asian Journal USA

This is how twins are seen in jpn culture. Now, if you remember what the devs said about the DLC

There is something that lead at least one of the twin in pair in the DLC world to die. Nel lost Nil, Rafal his twin, Veyle hers too. Only one twin in the pair of twin survive. Only one 片割れ remains.

Apply this logic to the whole Engage world and you have it.

There is 2 Elyos : only one Elyos knows a bright future, the other one is a dead land.

There is 2 version of each indidvidual : one of them die, one survive. Alear dies, Alear survive in our world. The Royals are all dead, but in our world they are safe, Veyle is dead in that world, she is alive in ours. Marni, Griss and Zephia are dead, Madeline, Gregory and Zelestia are alive. Mauvier dies in the DLC, Mauvier lives in our world and is the only surviving member of the Hounds.

A japanese player pointed out that they spotted one of the Royal solider we fight in Firene's castle for training having a double in this world as well, and we kill him meaning we kill in the Fell Xenologue all the soldiers with whom we fight (can this game get any less darker ?)

And of course the fact that Isekai Alear outright refers to Alear as their 片割れ/fragment/twins

I already said it : Isekai Alear is the only one who use the word kataware to refer to their other self, in the Xenologue, Nel and Rafal use it exclusively to mean "twin".

It should also be noted that Nel Nil and Rafal's characterization and design are meant to mirror each other : similar yet distinct. Nel had black hair, Rafal and Nil white hair. Nel wears blue, her brothers pink. Nel is at first introuduced as cold and Nil as warm until the point where we realize that Nel hides her sweet character behind her cold facade which is as true for Rafal, but he is more arrogant. And the fact that Nel and Rafal's quote very often mirror each other. In the same way all the "kataware" are mirroring each other and even those that seems very alike such as Alear, Sombron and Mauvier end up with having distinct personality : Alear being more confident in this world, Sombron having different origins therefore motivations and Mauvier not being as passive.

This means that Elyos and XenElyos are twins world, forming a whole, a fragment of each other and it ties back to how choosing Alear's gender determine on whether or not they belong to the Fell or Divine dragon tribe, but also which world. We choose the world that survives, the "twin" that survive. (this game cannot stop can it)

In the fell xenologue's world, Fell dragon and Divine dragon are "twin tribes" from a common ancestor. This might not be the case for the MG story, but it also contributes to the whole "Fell/Divine duality" and it is once again a case of race surving over the other : in the Fell Xenologue, all the Divine dragons are dead. In the MG world, one survived with Alear.

This however means that Nel and Rafal didn't existed. Keep in mind what I said, they are refering to each other as a whole, a fragement of a whole. Yet only one twins survive, that's the rule of the Xenologue for each of the Fell children : if they are born as twins, this means they already have a 片割れ in this world, therefore they can't have one in our world. The surviving twin in the pair of fell twins corresponds to the surviving counterpart in the pair of alter ego.

And when you think about it, Rafal and Nel refering to their twins as half also explains why they need to be two to form a greater whole. Rafal lost his 片割れ, hence his other half when he was young and was feeling alone, incomplete this whole time. He then meet Nil that he describes using the same words as Nel, his hanshin/other half. And Nel herself lost that other half yet Rafal and Nel both replaced that missing half.

However, Sombron and Veyle have 片割れ/twin from another world, even if we do know that this Veyle would have a twin sibling. So the only way it can come together is comming back to this one idea : that they are splitted from one and only Fell children in our world.

For one Fell child we have two 片割れ who are 片割れ to each other. The one exception being Alear of course as they are not tied to Sombron between universe. In fact it seems that our Elyos is the only universe where Alear is linked to Sombron cause one of Rafal's pact ring wake up event is him going to your room and asking "hey, I wonder if there is a world where I can summon you as my Emblem" (my brain hasn't been the same ever since). Sombron also isn't linked to his ancestors since this isn't a universe constant (same for Maddie and Marni's parent) and the fell kids to their mother (since Veyle can't be half Mage dragon in the other world) but in Alear's case the whole 片割れ logic doesn't apply to them since they have the same 片割れ as the other member of the cast. For Veyle however, as she is dead in the begining of the DLC, we can assume she had a twin.

Regardless, the same way that in the DLC one 片割れ in a pair of twins dies, one 片割れ in a pair of "twins from another world" die with XenElyos, the twin world dying.

[dcggersedge]

[ 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 ] ― sender and receive watch as something burns ( candles / a building / a campfire / etc )

"Don't look away." Calmly moving lips mouthed the words, their sound tucked between the roaring flames, but with no syllable able to be mistaken. Not for any Corrupted of his. Beside Larimar, the Fell Heir's sights pointed forward as they always did, never once looking back, looking not even at her.

Inferno razed the fields and crumbling hovels, eating away until only their skeletons remained. The abominable Corrupted swarms converged upon the village's last survivors, silencing their screams and renewing their corpses. Life in all its entirety snuffed as far as the eye could see and still not enough.

Because none of it would be enough until all the world looked like this, too.

"I expect you to absorb every inch of this sight," Nil—no, Rafal—said only, and finally his gaze flicked to Larimar. Piercing and gauging alike, watchful for dissent. For lasting signs of humanity in one who had once been just as human as the freshly dead. "Whatever meaningless attachments you retain to your old life, discard them now. This is the goal for you Corrupted. Nothing as useless as regret or hesitation will help you achieve it."

five senses | Accepting!

She didn't question it when he asked the name of her home village. It was given freely. Larimar hadn't belonged there in a long time. Seeing it in flames, now, she wonders what's worse; that she thinks she should feel something, or that she doesn't at all.

The order is unnecessary, but it's the very sound of his voice that tempts her to turn away. She wants to look at him. She doesn't risk breaking the order to do so.

It's all so much...louder than what she's used to. Her kills are always silent, efficient things. The cacophony that they watch is what happens when she has done her job wrong, when she has failed. There would have never been any of these grandiose pyres or screaming voices as the last of the villagers were overwhelmed.

'I work better alone', had been the answer she'd given him when, freshly alive again after bleeding out, he'd questioned her about who she was and what she could do. 'Those brainless idiots would slow me down'. She still thinks as much, watching a Corrupted cleave heavy axe through someone's foolish final stand.

Being forced to stand here and watch feels like a punishment. She'd be done by now, if he let her. She can't even see the house she was born in from here.

She can feel his eyes on her. Is it more or less disrespectful to look? "I understand, Lord Rafal." Another scream cuts short. None of them are familiar. Has it already happened? Or is it just another thing to wonder forever?

Another scream. She looks from the flames to him. He's just as much a part of this sight as everything else. He looks beautiful with embers flying behind him. "Whatever you want, consider it done."

[omegaremix]

Cold Cave / Black Marble / Choir Boy @ Warsaw, N.Y.C.; June 14, 2018.

Hello, Warsaw. We meet again. It’s been seven months since I first visited the Polish powerhouse on Driggs Avenue in Greenpoint, one of my all-time favorite places to visit. That was when I attended Hospital Productions 20th Anniversary showcase and it became an unforgettable experience. This time, it’s a shorter affair featuring only three acts: Choir Boy, Black Marble, and headliner Cold Cave. The ritual is the same as last time and every time. Wait on the platform, take the train, hop on the subway line, and arrive in the neighborhood none more blacker where you stand against the venue’s wall. It was all clear out. Thursday’s warm air and blue skies was not symbolic of the night’s wicked-black climax. I called my sis- to tell her how euphoric I was feeling, experiencing these days and moments I normally don’t but should more often. For every time I waited entry at Warsaw, there was always someone from Stony Brook who I would randomly spot. Last time it was WUSB’s Cornflower zipping past on his bike. Now it’s Marcel, my queer friend from The Stony Brook Press whom I took a quick two seconds to be sure it was him. I was right. We hugged each other and then my anxiety shot up because I haven’t seen him since The Press’ 35th and the venue was ready to open its’ doors. He had to leave anyway for Ru Paul’s Drag Race, the diet of queer champions, but promised him we’d resume catching up down the road.

The line now entered Warsaw. Unlike Hospital’s instant get-go, we waited almost an hour for the opening act to go. Salt Lake City’s Choir Boy was first up, self-proclaimed Mormons (kidding or not) currently signed to Dais Records. They’re a spot-on bullseye of Eighties-aesthetic synthpop, new wave, and light goth-rock that was pleasing and lush. Never abrasive but gentle, breezy, and aurally sentimental. Adam Klopp’s vocals make the outfit’s namesake (he has sung in church choirs), hitting high notes just floating above the collective’s perfect dream world. Their synths, guitars, beats, and riffs and basslines fall right into my current Eighties kick, keeping the vibe alive. And note Kyle Hooper’s dangling earring when he’s right behind synths…

Black Marble was one of two reasons why I chose to be there. WUSB’s Nightmare Aquarium is responsible for making me a fan of theirs during a summer’s transition to Lindenhurst. Their output has been nothing but good to me. To this day, their sound is one I have yet to figure out and that’s a great thing. Chris Stewart / Black Marble got a great standing ovation revisiting his Brooklyn hometown as a new Los Angeles resident. It didn’t change the total mood or quality of his music if ever the slightest. Still a two-man two-guitar outfit without Ty Kube and a drum machine, Black Marble got right to it filling the vastness with said guitars and drum machines upfront as Stewart’s vocals receded far away and above into the open space. Even if there’s a cold, distant, low-fidelity quality in Black Marble, things somehow sound upbeat for its rays of sunshine. A clean perfect set all the way through.

Cold Cave finally take the stage. It can be said (and said again many times here) that they were one of the essential summer sparks igniting my personal revitalization of sorts during the post-economic crash. From then on, their songs continuously watermarked some of the better key moments in my life without fail, so it’s why I paid a visit to see them live as a thank-you. Wes Eisold made his entrance along with wife Amy Lee (guitars, synths), Ryan McMahon (drums), and Nils Blue (guitars) to open the set with songs from You & Me & Infinity. The New Order-inspired “Glory” really got the crowd going. Soon, New York City got a special treat only for themselves: an appearance by Genesis P-Orridge to perform “Comprehension”, her 2015 collaboration with Cold Cave and Black Rain. It’s her residency, so why not have Cold Cave make the most of their visit? Then the blinding “Heaven Was Full” and later on their marquee hit “Confetti”, which to me was the entire night.

Then, flashing solid colors went wild as Cold Cave went into “Rainbow Girls” mode, the only time the show went color. What did we win? A visit by author Max G. Morton of Eisold’s Heartworm Press, who came on-stage to deliver “Heavenly Metals” before Cold Cave’s ultimate closeout. Morton was decked in all black just like their set, standing tall and no doubt couldn’t be fucked with as he spewed his brand of cold despotic mean testimony. A few more songs and the night was history. Cold Cave delivered one of the most powerful performances I ever felt. McMahon’s drums hit hard, loud and clear through Eisold, Lee, and Blue’s blasting synths and guitars. Most of their setlist and songs I hoped they’d play was more I could ever ask for. “Confetti” was the start of a new era for me when all was almost lost. “Comprehension” has become one of my all-time favorite songs of this decade, if not, ever. “Glory” followed suit to become a new memorable winter favorite of mine. The string of favorables still keeps coming from them. With a new American Nightmare record out, it’s Eisold’s winning year. No bullshit, no moshing, no shoving; save for the guy standing next to me (and it had to be him) who was furiously stomping the venue floor to the point of near-collapse, and almost tearing the venue’s front rail off. Someone was a little into himself at the show, no?

My second visit to Warsaw in as many months was just like the first. Randomly encounters with friends from Stony Brook, amazing line-ups in an amazing venue, and another day in Greenpoint where the fever pitch comes from being in a great place in a great time and having the right ties with specific people. It’s not every day I experience it, but when I do, I feel like with all the motherfuckers and fishnet-wearing witches around me in Boy Harsher, Joy Division, Cat Power, and D.S.-13 shirts, I hit the jackpot.

[slvtiny]

Welcome to Wonderland, My dear dreamer

Hi,

I am Jae, your personal Jinn.

In this household, we do not judge, discriminate, nor disrespect.

All you wish for can come alive, even if it's the way a song, a picture, or a thought makes you feel. Even if you can't make words out of it, as long as you tell me how you'd sound in your dreams.

I can make the world a wonderland for you.

▪︎♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧▪︎

♤ A little into detail, 'Who am I?' :

I'm Jade <Jae>

Age - 22 years old

DOB - 11th of June

Occupation - nil Currently in university

Major - Psychology, Neuroscience, Music<for funsies🙄🎀>

MBTI - INTP

Hobbies - music, dance, writing, reading (any form of art at this poin>_<), trekking, cooking, 🫣nerdy techy stuff you're probably not interested in(I usually just help out my tech maj bsf to finish their proj🤭), collecting sea shells and other stupid stuff I do on a daily🦖✨️

▪︎♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧▪︎

♤ Artists I stan :

ATEEZ

XIKERS NCT TxT TBZ SKZ THE ROSE

KARD SF9 MAMAMOO TWICE

RED VELVET PENTAGON ONEWE CIX

KIM WOO SEOK SEVENTEEN MONSTA X

iKON WOODZ P1HARMONY LEE HI

ONLYONEOFF MADDOX BewhY GEMINI

ONEUS DPR IAN DPR LIVE

DPR CREAM B.I LEO æspa AMBER LIU

Coogie SOGUMM DeVita PUNCHNELLO

CODE KUNST WOO WONJAE HOODY

UGLY DUCK LOCO GRAY GOT7 CRUSH

BIGBANG BTOB DAY6 ERIC NAM

HANNAH BAHNG ITZY JESSI WINNER

HYO BLOCKB SIMON D ZICO KID MILLI

NO:EL HAON MELOH SEORI LUCAS...

<there's probably more I just can't recall lol>

<my list is literally Hongjoong’s nightmare 🦖>

NOTE:

You can talk to me about these artists, recommend songs, recommend other artists, I may write for them only on very sweet requests, and I will not write smut for them unless I already do. Please check the list of artists I write for👇 before requesting.

♤ ARTISTS I WRITE FOR :

ATEEZ MADDOX MAMAMOO TBZ

GEMINI B.I AMBER LIU

NCT (I don't writ for Wish they CHILD), (though Shota, and Sungie are Riize now, I might write for them, same goes for Lucas)

▪︎♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧●♧▪︎

<under maintenance will be updated soon >

♤ IMPORTANT LINKS :

RULES

PERMANENT TAGGLIST

ABOUT REQUESTS

INDEX

PLAYLISTS

FIC RECS

HELP ME WRITE??

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Ps.

Lmk if the link don't work

[original-character-championship]

REAL NULL PROPAGANDA HOURS!!

(submitting this now so i don’t forget when the polls are posted lol)

you might be thinking. who is this chump? and why should i vote for them?

well.

this weird lizard is NULL and they are the blorbo from my brain!!!

Some random facts abut the beast:

1. Null used to be ½ of a god (kinda). They were created when a mage tore one of the universe’s founding deities in half due to a misunderstanding (long story). Both halves of this god-soul congealed into a physical form, with one half becoming Null (and the other half becoming Null’s evil twin sibling Nil).

2. Null is made out of rock. No, seriously. When Null was first formed, they were more energy than physical matter. They wandered into a cave and just went to TOWN eating rocks and incorporating it into their body. so null is entirely rock and mineral based and is kept alive entirely by freaky otherworldly “magic” (once again, long story).

3. considering Null was formed from the corrupted deity of death and destruction, Null was SUPPOSED to hunt down their counterpart Nil, kill them before Nil manages to kill Null, and be reformed as the true destruction god once again. instead, Null sat in a cave for like, 100 thousand years longer than they were supposed to.

4. Everyone wants Null to be the protagonist soooo bad but Null would much rather go back to their cave and take a nap. They only left the cave because the mountain they lived under Completely Collapsed on top of them.

5. Instead of doing what they were SUPPOSED to do (kill Nil), Null spent their time wandering with their new friends and having a fun adventure learning about the big huge above-ground world while aforementioned friends are DESPERATELY trying to lead Nil and their posse on a wild goose chase and stalling them as long as possible because, unlike Null, Nil IS actively trying to hunt down and murder Null. Null is aware of this, they just don’t care.

6. At various points, Null becomes: a semi-famous sculptor, a baker, a folk legend, a criminal, an archivist, an archaeologist, a geologist, an unlicensed therapist, and a temple statue (….long story.)

7. Cares WAY more about doing whatever the hell they want instead of following fate or expectations or anything.

8. Specifically USED to be ½ a god and not CURRENTLY ½ a god specifically because of how souls work in the universe. Null (and their counterpart Nil) both start out as literally just. half of the destruction god’s soul. but after going through Character Development Null got their Very Own shiny brand-new soul. so when Nil eventually confronts Null and dies (badly) in the process, the god-part of their souls reform into the destruction god, but Null is still fine! Kind of. They did get turned into a rock for a while. But it’s fine! They got better!

9. Null’s favorite food is limestone. Null’s second favorite food is mango.

10. Null exists in a plane of existence known as the Mortal Coil (which i talk about in depth on my oc lore sideblog @mortalllycoiled if you’re at all interested in the Lore). There are a Lot of guys involved. here’s a simplified relationship chart as a reference for the scale so far!

11. Null is my special little guy and I am simply happy that you have observed him for a little bit. I designed this creature back in 2017 and I still love them so much its unreal. Here’s some random old art to look at!

^ the OLDEST art of Null, from 2017! this is one of my oldest digital art pieces ive done. i think we’ve both come a long way c:

anyways, thank you for observing my specialist guy Null! so go ahead and vote for them (or don’t; i’m writing this post before i know who he’ll be going up against so like. idk follow your heart <3 )

[rafent]

How hypocritical is your muse? If they can be hypocritical, do they realise this about themselves? How do they reconcile with it?

♙ ; how hypocritical is your muse? If they can be hypocritical, do they realize this about themselves? how do they reconcile with it? ( also asked by @unsungblade )

My hot Engage take is that Rafal is simultaneously one of the least and most hypocritical characters in the cast.

For instance, if we defer to one common example of hypocrisy which is moral superiority contrasted with one's immoral behavior or beliefs, Rafal from that perspective will never water down his own values and dilute them with a sense of sanctimony by saying one thing and believing another. Whatever opinion he gives to someone else will be exactly what he means. This applies to all situations that demand for his opinion in some way, shape, or form as well.

He's hardcore, he puts his front foot down, and, ultimately, Rafal happens to be a lot of things - prickly, arrogant, self-centered, critical, jealous, imperfect, stubborn, and intense - but the one thing he'll never be is a hypocrite who dresses up his views to look better than they are. He's honest. . .but only in that light.

Other than that, Rafal is absolutely hypocritical. One hundred thousand percent. We see Rafal's particular brand of hypocrisy most common with characters from his past, situations and relationships where he tends to do a lot of posturing and 'biting' in an effort to dissuade further interaction. Something Gregory describes as Rafal's seeming obligation (it definitely is) and also something that Gregory's support chain showcases pretty well:

Gregory: Well, if it isn’t Lord Rafal. What a coincidence, running into you in this great, wide Somniel.

Rafal: Ugh…

Gregory: Whoa, what’s with the silent treatment? We’ve always been such good allies.

Rafal: Ah, yes, now I recall. You are one of those mewling Four Winds wretches.

Rafal expresses his contempt for Gregory by implicating him to be forgettable - diminishing his identity to someone whose name he doesn't even remember. He treats him like a sore inconvenience, but most importantly: a nobody. Who are you again? Did I mean something to you? That sort of thing. And this encounter isn't reflective at all of how Rafal truly feels about the people he once shared battles and struggles with.

The affectation of his dislike isn't genuine and it isn't constant, either. Rafal's more truthful reality becomes plain to see when it comes to losing what he loved, because at that point there's no more purpose to his facade or walls. It's a hard prerequisite for his honesty but the reason for it is clear: a defensive pretense isn't needed when the other person isn't alive to require it.

Died (Gregory): We should wrap Gregory’s body in something soft, at least. It is what he would want.

Died (Zelestia): Zelestia is gone. I was wondering why it had suddenly become so quiet…

Died (Madeline): Madeline left us much too soon. Let us resolve not to squander any more young lives.

When Gregory dies, Rafal sheds his distance and adopts a more familiar judgment in 'what he would want', revealing that Gregory's interests were always things he took measure of, and that he'd preserved them all along. A blatant contradiction to the who-are-you treatment given to him in their C-support. When Zelestia dies, he enacts a similar sense of his familiarity albeit with her rambunctious personality, something viewed in a positive, room-filling light. Madeline's death instead calls upon his regretful reference to her age, an uncharacteristically tender emphasis at that.

The common ground between all of Rafal's reactions is a fond qualitative observation about his deceased Wind. Sentiment. Emotions and attachments that aren't betrayed on a surface level by his harsh words, particularly the ones pointed at them during his versus dialogue as Fell!Nil. Every expectation of hatred that Rafal gave during that time is negated by what he says and does afterward. Remembering their preferences, mourning their larger-than-life presence, and regretting their fate.

Even his shared support with Mauvier reflects a similar verdict; that what Rafal bespeaks to devalue his previous bonds differs from his actual beliefs.

Rafal: I do not require anything at the moment.

Mauvier: Good. If that changes, I assume you know how to find me.

Rafal: I would extend to you the same offer. I know you have a tendency to overwork yourself.

A far cry from Nil, Rafal is not a good liar. But he is an excellent hypocrite.

Most incriminating is the fact that he remembers things. If Rafal truly hated someone he wouldn't make remarks about their likes or concerned allusions to their most destructive tendencies. The ultimatum is that he cares. He cares and 9.5 out of 10 times he won't allow himself to show that.

The exception is present-world Mauvier, because him being a separate Mauvier without intimate knowledge of the sins that Rafal committed exempts him from Rafal's 'obligation' to keep far, far away from the people that he's hurt. And because said obligation is such a strong motivation, even if he did realize his own hypocrisy I doubt he would reconcile with the fact or try to amend it.

[eolewyn1010]

Charité, season 4 - episode 4

I'm here to spoiler, and don't say I didn't warn you!

"Two more Paleobacterium deaths" - not Maral's very first patient tho! He will conveniently stay alive until the very end.

Does anyone else think it'll be a depressing blow to Julia to come home and find that, when Maral finally puts in an effort into unpacking boxes to furnish their new home, all she unpacks is her work stuff?

"Extreme heat wave continues" - but we won't show our protagonists sweating! They have to look like models.

It's not that actress' fault, but her facial structure reminds me uncomfortably of season 2's Magda Goebbels. Plus, she's 1st, dressed like she has too much money (and she probably has if she can afford 4 in vitro treatments), and 2nd, remarkably unscathed for someone who has recently been in a car accident that ended fatally for another participant.

Julia. This woman is pregnant and very freshly widowed. Refer her to grief counseling?

Nurse Kachel is only around to literally open doors and talk some platitudes in Berlin dialect, huh?

Nice of Maral to give away a ticket for an event she planned to go visit with her wife. Oughta be good for the marriage.

Also, what do you mean "men's team or women's"? Does that mean sports are still segregated in a way that makes them inaccessible to nonbinary people?

Dylan, just report her. At this point, her trying to treat a patient is illegal. She should not even be in the tract.

With the background that Ferhat probably attempted suicide at some point, it feels hypocritical of him to be opposed to his patient choosing death over a living situation he deems unbearable.

Wait a minute. She's 16 weeks into pregnancy and already knows her baby is gonna be a boy. But Julia's test was the first that turned up the microplastic poisoning? How quickly does that develop / how incompetent was her previous doctor?

Come on, Julia, you can't be surprised that she's desperate to keep the baby.

I'm not entirely sure why they have to plant the child back in at all. If they have artificial (and completely disease-free) wombs at their disposal, wouldn't it be the safest course to keep the fetus in there until maturity?

It's very rude to develop a revolutionary kind of surgery and then not haste to train others to do it when it treats an issue that a ton of people worldwide are likely to have. 1st season at least had a reason for not many doctors knowing a certain kind of surgery - modern medicine was in its baby shoes and worldwide networking was scarce and slow. But with all that technology? Get teaching!

If you're suicidal, try romance! It solves all depressions! ...Honestly, fuck Ferhat. For someone who also gets to do psychotherapeutic treatment, he's so bad at human emotions.

Marlene is one of very few characters this season I give a damn about, and she's being stood up by this dumbass Ferhat. Ugh.

Maral. Wine is not a balanced diet.

"You wanna talk about your work? No, I get to complain about my work now!" Maral, you suck as a wife.

And then, literally just after that, she has the absolute GALL to accuse Julia of not listening to her about her problems! What the actual fuck. Maral, you suck as a wife!

You also have no right to deny Julia information about her son.

"From my perspective, yes." Have you ever talked to your wife in the past weeks, even once? Sheesh.

That telling-off was so overdue. So obviously, the next thing Maral does? Get drunk, be a workaholic, and go to extremes to prove a point! Woo! It's feminism when it's women who make the bad choices! I hope she knows she's on one level with Robert Koch now. And that is so not a compliment.

Discount Daniel Sträßer would seem even shadier if I he weren't surrounded by bad CGI.

Thanks, Nils, for calling Maral the asshole that she is.

Emilia, if you think Charité has to protect its precious reputation, you go and solve the medical mysteries yourself.

Wow. Wow, Ferhat. This episode is titled "Courage", not "Violation Of Your Patient's Bodily Autonomy". wtf, why is this guy a doctor.

Dylan, you should have Maral arrested. She's a walking (ok, lying-down) breach of infection protection law.

Way to go, Julia! And please change your gloves before you operate any further. That's fucking disgusting.

Does anyone else find it sus that Dylan, Maral's declared but male rival at the hospital whom she keeps trashtalking and tyrannizing at work, gets to look so much more affectionate with her than her actual wife?

Thoughts on this season's questionable queer rep aside - my problem is that Maral's behavior doesn't feel as though she wants to save lives. It feels like she wants to prove at any cost that she is right. That is an unsympathetic feature in everyone and a potentially catastrophic one in a doctor. And Ferhat isn't far behind. Are these supposed to be protagonists?

[prof-polaris]

[ic dm from a burner account]

My name is Nil.

Beedrill will know me by the name Mouse Fauna.

I can give you whatever you want- money, pokemon, free labor - Just - please don't hurt them.

I - have been watching your sons account for awhile- beedrill doesn't speak like that, I've seen him happy - he's not happy- i can't tell if he's safe. I know you're planning on adopting that beartic.

I fear for them.

... Can I please have a photo of bird- again I can pay- she was around 4 months old when I left. Beedrill too- He doesn't sound alive like he used to be - is he alive...?

Please just keep them safe.

-Nil

[ic dm]

....Well clearly you have not been around this account for very long, because I would never. Hurt Beedrill or Bird. I care for them as if they were my own.

I don't want money, or pokemon, or free labor, Arceus above. They're good kids, and I'm taking care of them.

You're right, Beedrill isn't happy. He's having a very hard time right now. He lost his partner porygon to the Team Fauna portal and has no way of getting him back whole, and it brings him a lot of pain. I've been doing my best to help and support him, but there is only so much I can do.

And for Arc's sake, I'm not adopting the beartic, I'm readying the beartic for adoption. I would not adopt a pokemon that would make my children feel scared or unsafe. Unless Beedrill gives express consent and I am sure it is not because he feels pressured, that beartic is not entering my home.

You do not need to pay me, or do anything else. Here are photos of Bird. She's growing up to be a very sweet young lady, and she loves bug types and sweets with apple and cinnamon.

[A few photos are attached, Bird having hot chocolate in a little blanket nest during a movie night, Bird cuddling with her new Sewaddle, Bird giving a Galvantula a treat, and Bird with a Larvesta sleeping in her lap while she tries to hold still but is clearly excited.]

I. Only have one photo of Beedrill. He does a lot of sleeping in his room and ignoring me which is fine. Teenagers will be teenagers. I want him to go to therapy, but he is an adult so I cannot make that decision for him.

[A photo is attached. An appletun is hounding Beedrill for treats. He looks unamused.]

You know... You could always come and see them? It doesn't have to be at my house if that makes you uncomfortable, there are a few local parks. I'm more than willing if it gives you some peace of mind that they are being taken care of.