#Paper Relics

[trevlad-sounds]

Sleep Space 2

19.08.2024

Sleep Spaces

Hey everyone,

A series of ambient mixes designed to help you unwind and drift off into a peaceful sleep. As someone who struggles with sleep deprivation, I know firsthand the power of ambient music to create a calming atmosphere.

I’ve curated a collection of what I believe are particularly positive and soothing ambient pieces, weaving them together into roughly two-hour mixes. The goal is to provide a consistent and relaxing soundscape to help you relax and prepare for a good night’s sleep.

Sweet dreams! Trevor

Sleep Space 1

Ishqmatics-Aqua Dub 00:00 Luke Sanger-Monday Misfit 11:08 David Cordero, Rhucle-Beyond the Horizon 15:52 Thrupence-The Difference (Original by Flume & Toro y Moi) 19:18 Sam Rosenthal-leading to the edge 25:38 Go Outside-not far away 26:39 Dark Fidelity Hi Fi-Outcodes 29:29 Christopher Willits, East Forest-Tunnels – East Forest Remix 31:17 anthéne-monochrome (awakened souls rework) 35:06 JB Dunckel-Égérie 38:53 From Overseas, zakè, Chihei Hatakeyama, Hakobune-Live Improvisation II – Live 41:53 Lesjamusic-Lesjamusic is Lost 1:02:32 Kenneth James Gibson-The Art Of Forgetting Yourself – Awakened Souls Remix 1:06:08 Giulio Stermieri-Wide Plain, Desolate Place 1:09:52 Ann Annie-Cottonwood 1:15:39 Paperbark-Faint Roads 1:17:40 Ed Herbers-Cruising Altitude 1:23:35 The Green Kingdom-Arcadian Skies 1:29:59 Tim Linghaus-Poplars In Your Eyeball 1:34:17 The Green Kingdom-Softly Away 1:37:06 No Death, Rhucle-Twilight Mood 1:41:09

Sleep Space 2 synkrotron-Pallas 00:00 Socool & Ireless-Ground 09:50 Francesca Heart-Circular Motion of the Nine Muses 11:58 Paul Cousins-Improvisation for 3 Tape Loops 15:32 Binaural Space-Use Your Illusion 30:20 Garden Gate-The Overground Church 35:19 Francesca Heart-Angelsummit.net 36:50 Time Rival-Pumice 41:36 Rhucle-Holy 46:08 Maps and Diagrams-An8kh 48:35 Lionmilk, Club Diego-Delagation of Delights 49:55 Willebrant-Sands l (New Light) 56:00 Viul-Eighties 59:03 Paper Relics-I Know The Way 1:01:05 Chris Russell-Forever In Blue 1:04:07 Paperbark-Antique Correspondence 1:13:00 Mark Ellery Griffiths-I sailed to meet her 1:19:57 Multi-Surface-Wrinkled Smile 1:22:58 Bvdub, Inquiri-Please Let Go and Let Me Hold You 1:25:40 Letters from Mouse-Piglet 1:44:45

[fuckyeahchinesefashion]

cnetizens post souvenir they got at various chinese museums

these are all fridge stickers

[britishchick09]

the ultimate ag historicals lineup! (as it should be!) :D

(shoutout to @bohemian-rhapsody-in-blue, whose tags reminded me to make an updated version with courtney, claudie and isabel & nicki! and here's how the lineup looks in modern ag books)

[carkeyarts]

manna of the wyrm

(inspired by this post by @mebis-art-dump!! bc it got me thinking abt the wyrm carcass)

[reestallized]

Day 4: battle / alternate universe

Mystery Dungeon real!?!?!? BRITISH PEOPLE!?!?

[karokawwo]

ik somebody would kill me bc of this team but i dont have nihility 5* and my acheron desperately needs the shield

[readingloveswounds]

did i NEED to include Calvin's thoughts on relics? no. did i need to include Calvin's thoughts on relics from his Commentaries on 1st Corinthians instead of the Treatise on Relics like a normal person would? also no. but here we are. the idol is thus a frivolous dream and a pure vanity.

[fragmentedblade]

I can't believe they made Blade ask with a broken voice why is it only abominations that come back over and over again. Blade, who can't die, who comes back to life again and again

[christineshanshanhou]

caress | 07.23.24

[elytrafemme]

having fond memories of when me and my best friend took a walk and we just started like. discussing platonic/socratic philosophy. like idk if this is a Gay Person activity but there's something about meandering back and forth from a CVS listening to your buddy talk about Alcibiades

[trevlad-sounds]

Sleep Space 9

07.10.2024

Please Close Your Eyes-Heaven On The Fourth Floor-00:00 Kosmischer Läufer-Die Weisse Rose-02:29 Kilometre Club-Blah Andy-07:36 Desolate Horizons-Each Star Whispers with Hope-08:44 Metric System 1981-Down To The Sea-11:01 Navaja Opinel-Neighbours Don’t Like Fentanyl-13:09 Neil Cowley Trio-Death of Amygdala-16:05 Ian Hawgood-i drove through the night-20:13 Elinch-grau eight-21:41 HEAVY AXE-TOMORROW-25:12 anthéne-by design-30:22 Mint Deluxe-Pomerau-36:01 Paper Relics-Time To Start (Album Version)-42:24 Glåsbird-Infinite Cloud-46:48 dynamo-human color-51:02 Djane Ki-An Eyelid in my Ear feat. Innocent but Guilty-56:05 little forest-glow-59:17 James Bernard-Californian Swells-1:02:28 Far away Nebraska-Verso un nuovo giorno-1:07:20 Gollden-make me feel-1:12:08 zakè & Tyresta-Departing Day-1:14:44 Ann Annie-Drift Creek-1:18:44 Ed Herbers-Splashdown-1:23:08 Rjania-Lost On Panthallassa-1:27:04 The Green Kingdom-Forgotten Futures-1:31:01

[medievalnun]

I just need people to see these guys

[go-learn-esperanto]

Praying every day Staff forgets the music player exists so they never change it.

[tyrorexdmzapp]

Music and art for Paper Mario: Relic Hunter, the very first fantopic I ever did.

Music composed in LMMS, with the DVS Saxophone as one of the VSTs.

Video put together in VSDC.

[beloveds-embrace]

(more of designationless!reader)

Soap found the box by accident. You never meant for it to follow you, never meant for it to be seen by anyone but yourself. It was a relic from a past you thought you’d buried, stuffed away in a dark corner of the storage room, forgotten like so many other things, brought by mistake when you changed between units again and again.

But Soap found it.

The box was old, its cardboard edges soft and sagging, your name scrawled on the side in faded, uneven marker. He wasn’t trying to pry- it was just there when he searched for a field manual in the storage room, and something about it drew him in. He brought it back to the common area where the others were gathered, setting it down on the table with a curious tilt of his head.

“Lassie never mentioned this, aye?” he asked, more to himself than to anyone else, and opened it; too curious, but also aware that if you truly did not want anyone to look through this, you would not have placed it in the storage room.

The scent of aged paper and something faintly bitter wafted out, and the pack stilled. Not because it smelled bad- it didn’t- but because something about the box immediately felt wrong; like a wound forced open.

Price was the first to step forward, instincts prickling at the edges of his senses. Ghost and Gaz followed, hovering close as Soap pulled out the first item.

At first, it was harmless. A broken doll with tangled hair, a few faded toys with their colors leeched by time, certificates bearing hollow phrases like “good effort.” Price’s eyes softened, his brow furrowing as he turned a small, threadbare ribbon over in his hand. None of it spoke of joy or pride. Instead, the items lay heavy in the box, the remnants of a childhood where love had been scarce. It wasn’t a treasure trove of cherished memories.

But then, Soap pulled out the sketchbook.

It was fragile, the cover warped and frayed, its edges curling inward as if trying to protect what lay inside. Price’s hand shot out, steadying Soap’s wrist, and he took it into his own hands. “Careful,” he warned. “Looks quite old.”

The room held its breath as Price opened it.

The first drawing made something deep in his chest rumble- a low, warning growl of distress that made the others tense.

You, as a child, stood apart from a group of faceless figures. They huddled together, faceless and warm in orange and yellow crayons, while you stood small and distant, alone in the cold blue. The faint, childish scrawl beneath it read:

“I think this is what love looks like.”

Price’s hand tightened on the book, the paper crinkling slightly under his grip. Ghost’s shoulders stiffened, and Soap let out a soft, chuffing exhale, his fingers twitching like he wanted to grab something, someone, and shake them. Like he wanted to grab you, and draw you into his arms.

The next drawing was no easier.

A child stood under black clouds, the page marked with teardrops, their hands pressed to a glowing window where a family sat warm and dry inside, nestled together. You’d drawn yourself outside, drenched and shivering, a frown on your face.

“When? If I’m good, will they let me in?”

Gaz made a sound low in his throat, a soft, mournful keening that was almost drowned out by Ghost’s steady, quiet growl, while Soap hisses, his pacing steps breaking the stillness.

And then, there were the drawings of your family- your siblings, your parents- but their faces were always blank, their hands never reaching for yours. Sometimes, you drew yourself trying to smile, trying to be part of the picture, but it was always wrong. You were always smaller, always separated.

Page after page followed, each one another gut-wrenching blow. Each one a testament to your loneliness.

A little girl sat at the edge of a family dinner table, her chair slightly too far away, the space between her and the others gaping like an abyss. In another, she stood in the background of a family photo, smaller and faded, as though she didn’t belong.

“I think I’m broken.”

“They don’t want me.”

“I wish I wasn’t me.”

“Mama and papa say I will ruin the nest.”

The drawings became messier, the lines shakier, as if your younger self had pressed harder into the paper with each word, each scene, trying to make the feelings go away by burying them in the lines of graphite and crayons.

The pack’s scents filled the room, heavy and overwhelming- John’s cedarwood sharp with anger, Ghost’s smoky musk thick and oppressive, Soap’s bright citrus tinged with distress, and Gaz’s soft vanilla almost bitter with grief.

But then, at the back of the sketchbook, they found something worse than the drawings.

At the back of the book, a final drawing waited- a page filled with one stick figure: just you. Moldy green, sickly yellow and bruise-blue.

At the bottom, scrawled so faintly it was almost invisible, the words read:

“Why wasn’t I enough?”

Gaz turned away, his hand pressed against his mouth as his shoulders shook. Soap’s fists clenched, his growl low and guttural, unable to contain his restlessness. Ghost’s fingers curled into tight fists, his knuckles pale as his eyes burned with something fierce and protective.

And Price… Price’s throat bobbed as he stared at the page, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might snap.

How could they?

At the bottom of the box, folded and tucked away like a secret, was a letter.

It was written in a child’s handwriting, shaky and full of misspellings, far younger than the last few drawings.

“Dear family, I’m sorry I’m not good. I’ll try harder. I’ll fix myself. Please love me. Please don’t leave me out. I’ll be good I promise. Love you even if you don’t love me back.”

It was dated years ago. The creases in the paper showed it had been folded and unfolded countless times, carried like a wish you couldn’t bear to let go of.

They didn’t need to ask. They knew the letter was never sent. And the silence that followed was suffocating.

When you came back that evening, you were left utterly confused by the strange atmosphere. The pack stood there, their only company a tense, heavy silence you had no idea where it came from.

Price stepped forward first, his arms wrapping around you in a hold that was both firm and trembling, and you huffed in surprise… but you didn’t pull away. His voice rumbled low and deep, a steady, grounding purr that vibrated against your chest. He didn’t say anything; he picked you up and just like that, began carrying you to the nest that you were becoming more and more familiar with everyday per their insistence.

Soap was next, once you were in the nest, his hands cupping your face as he pressed his forehead to yours, wrapping himself around you like sunshine. “Relax, bonnie lass.”

“So why-“

Gaz hugged you from behind, his soft, soothing purr blending with Price’s as he buried his face in your hair, his words drowing out your question. “You belong here. With us. Always.”

And Ghost… Ghost didn’t speak. He simply knelt in front of you, his large hands resting on your hips as he pressed his forehead to your stomach. His growl was low, protective, vibrating through you like a shield against the world. And with Price joining as well, you were effectively surrounded in the nest.

That night, they pulled you into their arms and didn’t let you go. They surrounded you with their warmth, their scents, their steady, comforting presence. They rubbed their faces against your neck, your wrists, your shoulders, marking you thoroughly, their purrs and low chuffs filling the space until you couldn’t think of anything else.

Though you still wondered what brought this on. Weird pack instincts you probably wouldn’t understand, perhaps.

[emacrow]

Tim whom is still banned from caffeine went into looking into other ways to get caffeine.

He went into anonymous source from someone name KingTuck4ever who talk about a energy drink that kept him up for weeks during a critical time of his life and Tim was at this point of desperate to spend any time of money he got.

Later that night, he received 6 very large Dark green boxes with a DP logo on it filled with Lightening Green tall soda cans with the name Ecto-Spark!, ingredients tags on the back, made with organic vegan products, DO NOT NEAR MEAT RELATED PRODUCTS, guaranteed to keep you caffeine deprived souls awake and alive enough to enjoy a night afterlife party! Or your money back.

Tim at the point didn't read the back as he pop open the top, smelling a strong scent of caffeine, carbonated bubble and a taste of lemon lime mixed with a tang flavor that had his mouth drowning nearly in drool.

He took only one experimental sip, before his eyes widen instantly and immediately began chugging the soda can for all the liquid caffeine it had inside. This was 1000 times better then Death Coffee Cup from his favorite Cafe that he was still banned from.

It felt like his whole body got electrified with energy and feel like he can run a whole 4 week marathon without breaking a sweat. This drink was like tasting nirvana after a week of being in a Gobi desert for his fucking soul.

.....

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Bruce can never know about this. He can't tell anyone about this drink. Not Damian, Not dick, not step, maybe Jason, but Cass can kept a secret since she knew body language. He might possibly go rogue and kill Bruce himself if Bruce tried to take this from him.

Meanwhile Tucker was amazed of the total amount of money he received from the anonymous Caffine obsessed ghost. Usually he ended up receiving old relics, Egyptian related artifacts, gold coins, etc but this is a first he got actually modern day money.

Poor dude must've been recently form a core to spend that much money. Good thing he had send extra since he know how crazy those caffine-obsessed ghosts can be over the new drink he made specifically for himself, Sam and Danny but it's nice to have extra cash for new tech making. Especially since Danny became high king of the ghost zone when he became 20 year old, and the amount of paper works that had been left for dust collecting could filled a planet to the very brim.

Took him, Sam, Danny, Ghost writer and Techno 5 months to fully turn at least 26% of sacrifical gifts from ritual, contracts, conquests, complains from territorial ghosts about humans taking their land/house/property/or about their murder, help hundreds of ghosts stuck in their personal hell of a limbo of their own death, guy name Constantine whom was rapidly becoming a pain in Tucker's ass especially when he got one contract form his former previous life about this guy.