#NEW ORDER 1981

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

REPURPOSING ITALIAN FUTURISM FOR THE LATEST IN POST-ROCK/ EXPERIMENTAL SOUNDS.

PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on the now iconic poster art by Italian Futurist Fortunato Depero for the 1932 exposition Futurismo Trentino, later repurposed by graphic artist Peter Saville of Factory Records for NEW ORDER's 1981 debut album "Movement."

Resolution from largest to smallest: 1479x818, 1060x1078, & 790x790.

NEW ORDER

"Movement" / FACT 50

(Factory Records, 1981)

SLEEVE ART OVERVIEW: "Already prominent in NEW ORDER's early singles "Procession" and "Everything’s Gone Green," Saville turned to Italian futurism, and specifically Fortunato Depero’s poster for the 1932 exposition "Futurismo Trentino" for inspiration. Clean lines and strong typography had been visible from 1979’s "A Factory Sample," but here Saville imbued each stroke with veiled meaning, subtly adapting Depero’s design. Putting the album’s FAC. 50 matrix number front and centre, the cover is built around the "F" for Factory and "L," Roman numeral for 50, the light blue background of the UK release chosen by the band."

-- THE VINYL FACTORY, "Tracing the art of New Order in 10 iconic record sleeves," by Amar Ediriwira, published September 24, 2015

Sources: https://mastodon.world/@Long_live_rock_n_roll/111401932429175639, Fonts in Use, The Vinyl Factory, various, etc...

[cosmonautroger]

New Order, Ceremony, 1981

[chasedbybuildings]

Nice that someone has done a remaster.

[fanofspooky]

Scanners II: The New Order

1991 • R • 1h44m

Born with powers so terrifving it's beyond their control, A scanner discovers a plot by renegade elements in the city government to take power with the help of evil scanners.

[dashes-and-letters]

[soundandvisionsblog]

God tier intro. Timeless feel.

[elvain]

love it when ppl rb my posts and try to call me out for being inaccurate abt comic lore but they don’t realize the most modern comic i have read is from 1981 lol i’m just living my truth friend

[stillunusual]

Tear It Up (issue #2) YEAR: 1981 CREATED BY: Janette Anderson, Dave Belcher, Kenneth Bergeron, EW Musgrave LOCATION: Kilwinning SIZE: A4 WHAT’S INSIDE….

Kilwinning isn't exactly the rock 'n' roll capital of Scotland, but the self-styled "gang of four" responsible for creating this excellent zine back in early 1981 (with a bit of help from future journalist and broadcaster Stuart Cosgrove and a couple of other contributors) were definitely punching above their weight.

Issue #2 of Tear It Up includes a review of a gig by New Order which took place at Glasgow's Eglinton Toll Plaza on 12th January 1981. Kenneth Bergeron managed to interview Bernard Sumner (still calling himself "Bernard Albrecht" at the time) before the band went onstage, and got some interesting insights from him about what it was like to be following in the footsteps of Joy Division. Sumner also recounts the story of the band getting all their gear nicked in New York in September 1980 and laments about the "fucking useless" quality of the hired sound system they were using (which ended up malfunctioning during their set). Bombers Over Vienna and Positive Noise were the support bands….

There's also an entertaining four page feature about BBC Radio 1 DJ John Peel which is packed with amusing anecdotes, including Peel's thoughts about some of his fellow Radio 1 DJs (he describes Dave Lee Travis - who was convicted of indecent assault many years later - as "such a loathsome person").

A page about Grace Jones mainly focuses on her iconic appearance on Russell Harty's chat show in November 1980.

One of my most played records of 1980 was her 12" single featuring extended versions of The Pretenders' "Private Life" and Joy Division's "She's Lost Control". A shorter version of "Private Life" appeared on Jones' album "Warm Leatherette", which is included in the Tear It Up summary of 1980's best releases….

Other artists featured include Scottish post-punk band Boots For Dancing (who released a few half-decent singles between 1979 and 1982 and also recorded two Peel sessions) and John Dowie - best known at the time for his "comedic" contributions to the legendary "A Factory Sample" ep, which contrasted starkly with the rather more sombre tracks by Joy Division, Cabaret Voltaire and Durutti Column (the article about Dowie was "stolen from another magazine with an arrogant disregard for copyright laws").

There's even a thoughtful piece about American actor Buster Keaton.

Click on the title above to see scans of all the zine's pages….

my box of 1980s fanzines flickr

[mymelodic-chapel]

New Order- Movement (Post-Punk) Released: November 13, 1981 [Factory Records] Producer(s): Martin Hannett

[morlock-holmes]

To quote myself, imagine if you bought a pocket calculator at the store in 1980, and then in 1981 Texas Instruments sent you a letter saying, "The terms of use for our calculator have changed, in order to use the calculator you agree to waive any right to a jury trial or class action suit against Texas Instruments or any of its parents or subsidiaries. Continued use of the calculator constituted a binding agreement to these terms. If you do not agree you must immediately stop all use of your pocket calculator. No refund will be provided."

Seriously, writing that out really made it strike me even more how utterly abusive the modern age is to consumers.

The EULA, or End User License Agreement is a binding contract which one party may unilaterally change at any time for any reason and in any way they choose; the counterparty may not negotiate or change the terms of the contract and their only remedy in the case of changes that they don't like is to withdraw entirely from the contract.

Such contracts govern all use of software, which, since software governs the majority of our lives, mean that they now govern the majority of our lives.

Want to order a pizza? Better send the legal contract with the pizza company to the lawyer you keep on retainer and after looking over the documents he'll advise you on the legal ramifications of the pizza transaction.

Oh, you don't keep a lawyer on hand to advise you about ordering pizza or playing video games?

Well, then you can't complain if you don't like something buried in page 20 of the contract you signed with the pizza delivery company.

One of the massively dehumanizing things bureacracy does is demand something that is in practice impossible, like, "Keep a lawyer on retainer to scrutinize the terms of every pizza delivery contract, video rental, major appliance, and video game you interact with." and then condescendingly tell you,

"Well, if you don't do something as simple as that, whatever happens next is *your fault* and blaming someone else shows a weakness in your character."

One of the confounding problems if you want to argue with people who have some kind of luddite leanings is that, well, new technology feels nowadays like an imposition from hostile forces who know that they have you over the barrel because, uh, it is that thing. It is deliberately designed to be that thing.

I like having a cell phone. I hate waiving my right to a jury or to participate in a class action lawsuit. I would pay more, as a consumer, for a phone contract that did not have a binding arbitration clause. I couldn't find one.

So I decided that owning a phone was the lesser of two evils, and that will now be treated as a free choice which I have no right to complain about.

After all, if I wanted the right to join a class action suit I could simply forgo phone service and conduct all communications by the post.

And since I am allowed to choose whether I wish to have legal rights or a telephone, I am not allowed to complain about missing one or the other. After all, *I agreed* to give one of those things up :) :) :) :)

I think this move towards mass abuse of consumers really is one of the more underrated factors in, say, modern American politics.

[keemeekaal]

👑 24 SONGS JUST FOR YOU ;)

● JFÜ (SIDE B) #006 ★ dreams never end by New Order & @delicatuscii-wasbella102

[cosmonautroger]

New Order, NYC, 1981

[magical-grrrl-mavis]

There have been 82 Doctors at this point!

Keep reading line because the list is so damn long.

Main Continuum

(In order of appearance)

Classic Who

First Doctor (William Hartnell 1963 – 1966, Richard Hurdnall 1983, David Bradley 2017, 2022)

Second Doctor (Patrick Troughton 1966 – 1969)

Third Doctor (John Pertwee 1970 – 1974)

Fourth Doctor (Tom Baker 1974 – 1981)

Fifth Doctor (Peter Davidson 1981 – 1984)

Sixth Doctor (Colin Baker 1984 – 1986)

Seventh Doctor (Sylvester McCoy 1987 – 1989)

Eighth Doctor (Paul McGann 1996 movie)

Nu Who

Ninth Doctor (Christopher Eccleston 2005)

Tenth Doctor (David Tennant 2005 – 2010)

Eleventh Doctor (Matt Smith 2010 – 2013)

The War Doctor (John Hurt 2013)

Twelfth Doctor (Peter Capaldi 2013 – 2017)

Thirteenth Doctor (Jodie Whittaker 2017 – 2022)

Fourteenth Doctor (David Tennant 2023)

Fifteenth Doctor (Ncutu Gatwa 2023 - ?)

Pre - Memory Doctors

(Timeless child my beloathed)

Morbius Doctors (Robert Holmes, Graeme Harper, Douglas Camfield, Philip Hinchcliffe, Christopher Baker, Robert Banks Stewart, George Gallaccio and Christopher Barry 1976)

The Other (Sylvester McCoy, 1990)

The Fugitive Doctor (Jo Martin 2020)

The Timeless Child(ren) (TBA, Grace Nettle, Leo Tang, Jac Jones, TBA, Jesse Deyi 2020)

Brendan (Evan McCabe 2020)

Possible Future Doctors

(italicized parts of names are the title of that Doctor's first appearance, if I can't find a better name)

Father of Time (No Actor, 1987)

"Merlin" or The Battlefield Doctor (No actor, 1991)

The Army of Shadows Doctor (No actor, 1991)

"Fred" (No actor, 1993)

The Relic (no actor 1997, 2002)

The Storytelling Doctor (Tom Baker 1999)

The Web of Caves Future Doctor (Mark Gatiss, 1999)

The Blue Angel Future Doctor (No Actor, 1999)

The Curator 1 (Tom Baker, 2013)

The Curator 2 (Collin Baker, 2022)

Pseudo-Doctors

The Watcher (Adrian Gibbs 1981)

The Valyard (Michael Jayston 1986)

The Obverse Eight Doctor (No actor, 1999)

The Metacrisis Doctor (David Tennant 2008)

The DoctorDonna (Catherine Tait 2008)

The Dream Lord (Tony Jones 2010)

The Ganger Doctor (Matt Smith 2011)

The Spriggan (David Tennant 2022)

Alternate Realities

Dalek Films

Dr. Who (Peter Cushing 1965, 1966)

The Inferno Universe

The Leader (Jack Kine, 1970)

Doctor Who and the Daleks in Seven Keys to Doomsday

The Doctor (Trevor Martin 1974)

Previous Doctor (Nocholas Briggs 2008)

The Lenny Henry Show

The Seventh Doctor (Lenny Henry 1986)

What If?

The Eighth Doctor (No actor, 1997)

The Infinity Doctors

The Infinity Doctor (No actor, 1998)

The Curse of Fatal Death

The Doctor (Rowan Atkinsen 1999)

The Quite Handsom Doctor (Richard E Grant 1999)

The Shy Doctor (Jim Briadbent 1999)

The Handsom Doctor (Hugh Grant 1999)

The Female Doctor (Joanna Lumley 1999)

The Chronicles of Doctor Who?

The Doctor (no actor, 2000)

Klein's Story

Johann Schmidt (Paul McGann, 2010)

Father Time

The Emperor (No actor, 2001)

Scream of the Shalka

The 9th Doctor (Richard E Grant 2003)

Doctor Who Unbound

The Doctor (Geoffrey Bayldon 2003)

The Unbound Doctor (David Warner 2003)

The Heartless Doctor (David Collings 2003)

The New Heartless Doctor (Ian Brooker 2003)

Martin Bannister (Derek Jacobi 2003)

The Victorious Valyard (Michael Jayston 2003)

The Previous Doctor (Nicholas Briggs 2003)

The Exile Doctor (Arabella Weir 2003)

The Warrior (Collin Baker 2022)

Gallifrey - Disassembled

Lord Burner (Collin Baker 2011)

Gallifrey - Regenerators

Commentater Theta Sigma (Collin Baker, 2011)

False Negative

The Doctor (No actor, 2017)

The People Made of Smoke

The Sixth Doctor (Dan Starkey, 2020)

Unspecified Doctors

Yeah sometimes they just say "The Doctor" and don't bother specifying...

The Cabinet of Light Doctor (No Actor, 2003)

The Dalek Factor Doctor (No actor, 2004)

[fei-rest]

Limited Life Character Designs

3rd Life Designs Here!

Started watching it recently and I’m having so much fun with how much the CCs leaned into the silly side of Life Series. I’ve gone with 70s-80s aesthetics and fashion for everyone because the entire season has campy 80s media vibe for me

In order we have:

Bad Boys (Grian, Joel, Jimmy)

Clockers (Scar, Cleo, Bdubs)

TIES (Skizz, Impulse, Etho, Tango)

Nosy Neighbours (Pearl, BigB)

Mean Gills (Scott, Martyn)

Design Notes:

Everyone has a smart watch type thing on which shows their Life timer/how much time they have left

Bad Boys designs are their in game skins they used for the season but I added some additional pizazz. They’re meant to reflect 50s greasers and the archetypal bad boy in 80s teen movies

Clockers are all in disco/fitness wear of some sort (see Cleo’s aerobics clothes and Bdubs’ very vague party clothes, also big 80s hair for c!Scar)

C!Scar’s wheelchair design will change for each season, same with his crutch. I haven’t drawn him in leg braces yet but he also has those

For Limited Life, Scar’s wheelchair is meant to look techno ish? Lots of glow in the dark elements

TIES are meant to reflect 80s Yuppie culture and the Power Suit aesthetic, so shoulder pads for Impulse and Etho

Etho is wearing a more haori inspired blazer to reference his default skin being Kakashi from Naruto

Nosy Neighbours are in preppy fashion, frogs on their clothes to reference both Froggie the cat and the amount of Frogs that were in BigB’s abandoned 1st base (also Double N on clothes as a logo to reflect their name Nosy Neighbours)

Mean Gills are meant to be in New Romantic based clothes which I thought fit their more fantastical skins in game (being ocean/pirate themed), so I leaned into Vivienne Westwood flamboyance for them as one of her first collections was the 1981 Pirate Collection

I haven’t watched 3rd Life yet but I’ve seen Cherrifire draw the Dogwarts banner as Martyn’s belt in his Limited Life design and I thought I’ll include it as well

[animefreak1145]

Church Bells(Adler x Bell!Reader x Woods)

Previous Intel

Eighth Intel | Before

Description:

The world ended for Bell after Cuba.

The whole world followed soon after.

Zombies AU | Drabble Format

Warnings/Tags: Mature Rating, Graphic Violence, Dark Themes, Trauma, Body Horror, Gore, Major Character Death, Brainwashing, Post!Cuba, Pre!Solovetsky, No Solovetsky, Female Bell, Older Man/Younger Woman, Toxic Relationship, Obsession, Menticide

Words: 4k (What's a drabble again?)

▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▛ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▟ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚

 ■ ▞ ■ ▚ ■  “Bell” ■ ▞ ■ ▚ ■ 

Day After Ukraine Mission

16:07 | February 28th, 1981

CIA SAFEHOUSE E9, “DIE LANDEBAHN” 

“You do that a lot.”

You start from what you were staring at, the codes that are so tricky and you feel so close. The intel from what you have in your hands adding a piece to the puzzle that you’re enamored with—the complexities satisfying a carnal part of you that you can’t name. Your head turns to find Lazar’s curious yet amused smile, close to the television they used sometimes for the news not at your usual spot at the too small desk with the too large computer; at the center table instead is where you chose to haunt. 

“What?” you reply dumbly, too out of your element to say a more snarky reply. The transition from focused on the task to this interruption from the man that is more of an Eema than an Abba due to how hearty he looks and feels and making sure everyone felt the same by also stuffing their face. 

“That.” You were met with Lazar’s finger in your face. You resisted the urge to stare cross eyed and instead gave him a more inquisitive look, eyes searching. Which only humored him more, releasing a chuckle. “You have quite an intimidating stare.”

You push the hand away, scoffing,

“What? At my work? Isn’t that like everyone else?”

Lazar hummed, his eyes glittering at a joke you can’t understand.

“No. You have that type of stare that will freeze lesser men. Or get slapped by someone who thinks you’re looking for a fight. Or get you put into an asylum. Only, when you decode, you have an insane smile on your face. It’d be creepy if we didn’t know you.”

“Uh huh.” You dismissed, eyes glancing at the medical office. “You should work better on your compliments if you want Park to have a drink with you.”

If Park wasn’t in the medical office room along with Adler, you’re sure Lazar would throw his old cup noodle at you. Alas, he only gave you a dry “Ha. Ha.” with a neutral expression but still didn’t leave. He wants an answer. 

You turn to him fully, elbows leaning back against the desk, petulant.

“I doubt I smile like how you describe…” Lazar snorted while you frowned at him, before shifting your gaze back to your papers. “I don’t know. I just…love puzzles. They’re fun to solve.”

“Is that what makes you stare so intently?” Lazar leaned against the television, the stand slightly creaking at the movement, his intrigue seeming sincere. Another question hidden, two subjects being asked for one answer. A wall. “The thrill?”

Is that what love is to you?

You tapped at the papers, biting your lip in thought. 

“Maybe a part…I just have this need to figure things out. To open it up—to find the numbers, the letters, the riddles. In an order that is random but it’s not. It’s just a trick. A shadow on the wall. A reason for each piece. Each hint. Every piece of the puzzle has its purpose. It’s reason for being.” You didn’t notice when you started smiling, the topic consuming you like books and pictures do. But you just kept going as you grabbed your pen and fiddled with it, miming writing numbers or letters. “Like Sims with mechanics, I think. Or you with bomb wiring. You find the hardy wires or broken pieces—and I untangle it all. I even love how difficult it could be if I find a cipher intellectual. It’s fun.”

“Sounds maddening,” Lazar replied simply, brow raising. “And painful. Maybe even obsessive.”

You shrug, staring deeply at your own pen, tone far away. As if you were speaking about another topic than this. Something other. Like a secret.

“That’s love, isn’t it? Pain and obsession?”

“Your books tell you that? Or you come to that conclusion yourself?” You pressed your lips, silent. Only glancing at Lazar(are you easy to read?) who only smiled gently before switching gears and letting out a booming laugh. “With that description of love—you very much implied Adler is in love with our friendly neighborhood Perseus.”

Your jaw dropped, a gasp being released as you sat up rigid in your chair. A defense for Adler and a denial ready only for a startling guffaw to join in.

“What the shit are you talking about, Lazar?” Woods comes from his previous spot practicing with the boxing bag, Mason side by side with his own amused gaze as they come close to the center table. Woods snorted as he leaned back against the table near you instead of taking a proper seat. “Can you imagine our own Robert Redford switching spit with a commie? Ha!”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Mason quips to his friend with a nudge while Woods expression quickly changed to offended with no heat as he pushes Mason back with a disbelieving snort. “What? Sorry I’m airing out your fantasies.”

It was strange watching them. The easy back and forth quips and teases. Lazar felt like a warm hearth and home cooked meals compared to Mason’s steady kindness of a worn animal despite its past and Woods…

You briefly think of the night prior, how charged he felt out in the field. Not eager for it yet…willing to take everything and anything out his way. But his friendly taunts and words to you too. The arcade. The room where you got the intel and the knowledge he had of you, knowing you would’ve loved to play around more with the tech and computers there if the both of you had time and not world ending doom.

You weren’t impressed by his skills. Skills are to be expected in this line of work. People can call you cocky all they want.

But how personable he is? That was different.

It was unexpected.

(Why did it feel like he’s more close to you than Sims right now? Why has everyone been so disconnected from you? Even—blue fire for eyes hidden by the shaded wall, wheat dancing in the wind, artful cracks across a canvas—)

A hand waved in front of your face, your eyes broken from its lost look as you blinked back to the present.

“Hello? Earth to Bell?” Woods was still next to you and you couldn’t help but notice that Mason moved away with Lazar to where Lazar’s station is. Still talking with friendly smiles and easy atmosphere. You blinked again before turning towards Woods, who looked at you with a mix of amusement and concern. “What happened there? Did you even listen to a word I said?”

You didn’t. You’ve been doing this a lot. Getting lost in your head. Your brain foggy and mind distant. Not as quick as you usually are. You thankfully haven’t had this happen in the field. You hope it stays that way.

Instead of giving a straight answer, your lips only rose in a dry smile.

“Sorry, was thinking just how you got the guts to punch Hudson of all people.”

Woods huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back, brushing your shoulders as he did. 

“Doesn’t take guts to punch a prick.”

“No,” your smile turns up a tad, more mischief. “Takes some balls instead. Can’t have balls without a prick nearby or there’ll be trouble.”

Woods made a choked sound, as he stared at you dumbly before slapping the table and releasing a loud boom of a laugh. You wonder how he does that. So loud. So free. 

“You got more spunk than I thought, Bell. Guess you need it to even get the idea to escape in a Ruskie tank.”

You huff out your nose, but your chest still lightened at the praise. Your smile coming easy now and tension completely fallen away. You hid it though as you turned back to your work, picking up a stray picture of the Ukraine base you took.

“Did it for you. I figured you would want to run some commie’s over.”

“Oh, I’ve dreamed of it. I would say top five of my favorite wet dreams.”

You couldn’t help it. You snorted, it bursted through your chest and it didn’t stop, only turned to a laugh. You put a hand over your mouth to try to contain it but Woods satisfied expression only made you laugh more.

“Why—why did you say that?!” You try to collect yourself but you couldn’t. Not when Woods waggled his brows as if in answer. “Pfft—should I even ask what’s top one?”

Woods shrugged. 

“No can do. Gotta protect your innocence somewhere. My mind is a crazy place. Don’t wanna scare you off.” You snort again, shaking your head at him and tried to get back to work. Woods didn’t move as you stared around at the different pictures you took with Intel. “Say, where’s the random pics you took of me?”

“Don’t worry, Woods. I didn’t take out a camera with you over the mannequin—“ You stopped when he shook your shoulder, a warning gaze that only made you bite back another smile and only glare at him with no heat as you pushed his hand off. “Calm down,” you say quietly. “I haven’t said anything. Scout’s Honor.” You raise a hand as if to show.

Woods rose a brow dubiously.

“Were you even a Girl Scout?”

“Doubtful. Looks like you just gotta hope I don’t open my mouth about it.”

Woods grunted. Yet still didn’t leave. 

“Do you normally take pics of everything and everyone? Even on missions like that?”

“I like it. I like taking pictures. Did I make you uncomfortable?” You did take a few of him before you took a picture of the base. It was nice lightning and he looked good. “I can give you the pictures I took to you, if you want. They were good shots.”

“I suppose I can add it to my scrapbook.” Woods joked before shaking his head, his eyes turning more curious as the conversation went on. Gaze more assessing as he stared down at you. “Nah, it’s fine.  Don’t mind you keeping them. After I take a look of course. I guess I’m just asking…what’s the obsession with the camera? Film is precious right?” At your shoulder tensing, you starting to get defensive, he quickly changed tactics as he rose a hand in calming manner. “I ain’t judging. Just curious. Couldn’t help but overhear Park talk to you that Adler doesn’t like wasting resources. Or some shit like that. I don’t get the big deal. But it must be if you keep doing it despite them having a stick up their asses about some film of all things.”

Your brows pinched together, gazing intently at Woods eyes. You don’t see a reprimand. Or exasperation. Or even amused exasperation, like you were just being cute while doing something disobedient—like a pet jumping at their owners even as they tell them no with an amused smile. (“Always the one who never listens. Huh, Bell? Didn’t I tell you before about the pictures?”) He’s being sincere in his interest. It was his expression that did it.

You looked away, eyes taking in the safehouse around them. 

“Ever feel like a ghost in your own body?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Woods answered roughly. You nodded next to you, him taking that as permission that he can finally properly sit next to you. You didn’t mind thighs or shoulders brushing. Comrades now. Both of you throwing your lives on the line. Getting shot  by a common enemy brings people together no other way can. 

“Well, the coma did a number on me. I don’t remember much. I can’t put a story to scars on my body. My life, my memories—it’s only Vietnam.”

“Fucked up thing to remember. That whole war was a shit show,” Woods provided. “You must’ve been young.”

You only hummed, distant. Eyes straying in the direction of the red room. Your skin prickled in goosebumps, ears falsely hearing shots and napalm strikes. You shuddered but hid it by clenching your fists on the table, eyes on your jumbled words of your work. 

“Yeah…Hue City was just the start of everything going downhill…But I guess my point is…” You don’t know how to properly say it, you can’t find the English word for this. Esurient for memories erased. The feeling of not quite fitting in everyone’s circle, even with Sims. Monachopsis. (Are you even here at all? It’s like they stare past you.) “Life is memories. I don’t have any. What’s a person if not memories? So…I don’t feel…like it. A person.” You shrug casually, mutely. Hand wandering to a picture, thumbing it. “Ghosts don’t seem to remember stuff besides a deep motive. That’s what others believe. But…with pictures…pictures are for memories. If I take pictures, I’m actually taking memories. And if take enough memories…” You struggled once more how to explain but Woods was sharp despite his looks.

“You’ll be a person again.” Your eyes darted towards him, giving him a minute nod as he seemed to consider your words with a tilt of his head. The silence between the two of you wasn’t stifling, just…there.

You felt like something was released from you. 

Unlocked. 

The key was just for someone to ask. 

“Hey, listen—“ you turned at the soft touch to your shoulder, and you noticed Woods looked uncomfortable about the atmosphere you created. Not used to sharing open emotions like this no doubt but still had what appeared like care in his eyes. “You should really talk to Mason, he—“

Your ears honed in on the medical office opening, your eyes quick to follow as your head swiveled. Everything turned silent as your eyes settled upon the body you can recognize even in the thickest of jungles or deepest of wet rice paddies. And as your eyes settled, your thoughts of ruminating toska and the sense of lacuna dissipated.

You were so busy trying to catch what Adler was saying to Park beside him, you temporarily forgotten Woods next to you. You could hear him talking. Some form of advise. 

You turned back to your work and absently nodded with a quick smile to match at him. Your lips moved to say thanks. You think you did.

You didn’t see Woods throw another look of concern towards you, of suspicion. Turning something over his head.

You forced your ears to stretch, as if with force you can have super hearing. With brute force you can have the arcane man with valleys upon his visage, with liquid nectar that bounces with voluminous silk, voice of gravel that leads to the path of victory and makes your mind hazy. 

You still had a pen in your hand, tight as you looked down with a frown at the papers. Your leg beginning to bounce under the table. Impatient. Restless. Athirst.

“I’m going out for a smoke,” Adler called out(Beckoned, Signaled, Enticed—trinket waved like a treat. Your nepenthe.) clearly, more loudly than how he was talking to Park. You didn’t turn your head as he walked out the door near the garage door, too obvious. But you did sneak a look when he exited, stealing gaze right when you saw his back before the door closed.

Except it didn’t. A small rock held it ajar.

A secret.

“What the hell?” Woods was bewildered, staring after Adler while you tried to hide the fact. Waiting a beat. Or two. Your leg bounced under the table, growing more insistent. “Doesn’t he get his fix in here anyways?”

You heard Lazar answer for Woods, something about Adler needing a change of scenery sometimes. You can see in your peripheral his glance. You ignored it as you stood up to head back to your computer desk.

“I’m taking a break too,” you say, quickly picking a book from your pile in the corner after a brief deliberation.

“Uh…” Woods face would’ve made you laugh from how scrunched up it was as he stared as you quickly fixed your work papers back in the center table, book under your arm. “Isn’t that what you were doing? Like fuckin’ a second ago?”

“No,” you answer, organizing the pictures and quickly scanning them before you do so. “Lazar interrupted me from my work. And then you did. It was an interruption. Not a break.”

“You sure turned prickly,” Woods said in answer.

You pause, seeing Woods was somehow offended. He just doesn’t get it.

“Says the cactus,” you quip with a quick smile, twitching up more at Woods huff out his nose. “I…like taking my break the same time as Adler,” You decide to answer the question in his eyes. He did��listen. “It’s what we’ve always done. I read. He smokes. And right back to work we go. It works better this way.”

You didn’t wait for his reply. 

You didn’t even bother to see if he was about to.

You have the book in your hand, and you have your tether(Your eyes looks for the sun tanned gold even though it should blind you, but you never cared for your wellbeing. Protect the quiet monster like a demon enraged. Demon for monster. Monster for demon. The coin. You keep it in your pocket, whelve it—the whispered confession—the gravity of your ustulation and agastopia can burn through your pockets and skin all it wish. You keep it in. Like the pain killers Adler gave you earlier for your migraine after their meeting with Hudson about Ukraine.) outside. 

You open the door and without looking, you went to the left side of the door that’s by some unused pallets. Sitting on them and opening your book to your last point, as if you were ignoring him. (How could you?) He was smoking as he leaned against the wall beside the door. You always left of it, him always right. (▞ He’s always right. ▞ He ▙ never ▞ lies. Not to ▖ ▞ ▗ you.)

It was silent. Only the turning of your pages as you focused on reading, and the occasional exhale you hear now and then if you strain your ears. A puff of grey smoke above the two as your audience.

You don’t mind the quiet moments. You take what you can get. The two of you have too long a history for you to be uncomfortable at silence. Or needing something more. 

You don’t.

(The secret coin in your pocket burns, and you try not to flinch nor whine. You must stay sated, ▚ демон ▚ ▛ ▖ ▖.) 

A shot went through the front of your skull, your hand darting up as it seemed to go to the back of your head, a hiss to your lips. You almost dropping the book with your other hand.

“Another migraine?” He was close. You opened your eyes you didn’t realize were closed as you were hunched over your knees, spotting his shoes. 

You only offered a small nod before closing your eyes again, jaw tight. 

“I don’t…” you stop, speaking more quietly to help with the pounding. The sunlight was too much already, you don’t want to add your own voice to your own misery. “Dont know why it’s getting worse. Is this…normal?”

“It can be.” He replied simply, to the point. “Here. Take this.”

You blinked your eyes open and lifted your head to spot he took out some more medicine from his leather jacket, holding it out to the pills in the palm of his hand. At the sight, your stomach curdled.

You felt yourself pale and you don’t know why.

Adler must’ve noticed your hesitation. Tilting his head and lips twitching to a frown around his cigarette. He lifted a hand, taking one deep inhale, embers subtly lighting his face before he threw it off. He exhaled out his nose, smoke flowing smoothly. 

Your throat tightened as you stared. But not in want. It felt more heavy. More heady. Your mouth open more in a wince than for anything else.

“You know this will help. We gotta make sure you’re in shape for this, Bell.” You bowed your head in shame, book now beside you on the pallet as you clenched your hands on your knees. You heard him sigh. And now you see him, closer—he’s kneeling in front of you. One knee down, the other having his elbow leaning against it. “I don’t have to explain to you the stakes currently. You know how serious this is since you and Woods found out Hudson’s dirty little secret about Perseus and the nuke he has. You know it. We can’t fuck around anymore.”

You hunched your shoulders, as if that can hide you from your guilt. Because you spotted his glance towards your book. You can guess what else he’s hinting.

Stay a ghost or try to be a person? A part of your mind asked. You tried to not let your heart crack of no more pictures.

“I know…” you say, eyes down and to the side. Yet… “It’s just…it wasn’t that long ago you gave me them…I don’t—I mean—“ Your tongue is tied again. Like always near him. You didn’t mean to sound accusing or hinting. Adler is trained for medical issues on the field. You tried to take a breath. “I just don’t want to be a burden with all this. Slow you guys down. I don’t want to disappoint you.” You did a tight squeeze of your knees, practically white knuckled grip, a mix of uncaring at your honesty and hating yourself for it.

You felt your chin be lifted up, Adler’s forefinger doing so you can be face to face. He assessed you seriously.

“You won’t, kid.” He’s so close. Breath to your face. So calm too. Your anchor. He believes in you. If you or him leaned just an inch or two forward—he took his hand away from your face before bringing his palm with the medicine again. “Taking these will help. I’ll watch over you. Just like the good ‘ol days.” He tilted his head, a quirk of the mouth up. And you think he couldn’t be more charming. 

You ignored your past nerves, quickly taking the medicine in a dry swallow, gloved hands brushing his bare ones(Damn it all.). 

He nodded at you, the barest thing of it before he stood up. Glancing at your book again with pressed lips before facing you once more with a raised brow.

“Oscar Wilde? Here I thought you only read Dostoevsky and Nietzsche.”

“It’s a collection of some of his poem’s. And a break from existentialism and nihilism is good for the mind. But you’ve always been more of a stoic,” you shoot him a teasing look, an attempt to get your bravado back. “Our very own Prince Andrei Bolkonsky.”

Adler did a small huff out his nose.

“Just don’t start bowing.” Adler did a quick motion of his to the door. “Come on. Back to work, Tolstoy.”

You nod, marking where you were in the book before following Adler back in, your hold on the book tight. Who knows when you’ll get to read again.

Stay a ghost or try to be a person? 

(It doesn’t matter. Adler made the choice for you.)

You tell yourself it’s fine. You instead let yourself be a book for Adler—willing to be read. You imagine how he would do it, a book of you in his hands. Read through your pages, open up your spine and let his fingers run through your creases—how easily can he finish you? How many times could he, until you’re worn and wrinkled from use? Will his touch trace the abuse of a loved book?

The place where he put his finger on your chin burns.

…

The page you marked on the page reads: “Never regret thy fall, O Icarus of the fearless flight, For the greatest tragedy of them all, Is never to feel the burning light."

▞ ▚

▛

▞ ▚

A/N: Bell is a SIMP. Poor girl. The best way to tell if Bell is in love, is if she suddenly starts thinking in poetry. Bell stares intensely you say? Bell loves intensely too.

I’m also confusing myself with Dark!Adler and Soft!Adler. But again he’s both so 🤷‍♀️ Man so toxic and a red flag, he’s even confusing the author.

Also, I’m planning to write really quickly to finish up For Whom the Bell Tolls. Didn’t want to but I really want to go ahead and write for BO6. Then again, that fic was NEVER supposed to be that long or longer. Sorry if I speed through some stuff, I just want to finish it and move on then torture you all further.

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