#Plastic EP & The Records

[bandcampsnoop]

1/23/23.

I ended up at Danny Graham's reissued LP because it is being released by Xerox Music (Australia...by the way, it looks like Joe Sukit of Royal Headache is associated with the label). I started this morning listening to another Xerox reissue - Plastic EP & The Records.

Danny Graham's (Australia) music was originally released to little fanfare in 1980. It sounds like a mix of David Bowie and Mac DeMarco (more in personality than sound). Honestly, it sounds like something that could be made today.

By the way, "supporters" of this album include Chapter Music and Alex Macfarlane.

[wayward-dreamer]

Pillow Talk

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Reader

Word count: 1,782

Summary: After a stressful meeting lead by Stan Edgar, Y/N looks forward to her other weekly meeting that is far more enjoyable.

Warnings: Swearing, implied smut: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up people), pillow talk turned dirty talk, vaginal fingering

A/N: I started writing this after that Gen V ep, but a lot of things got in the way of me finishing it. Happy reading, hope y'all like it! :) beta'd by my love @hintsofhoney

Y/N yawned, covering her mouth with her hand as she scribbled random drawings on the paper in front of her with a black pen. She was bored out of her mind as Mr. Edgar addressed everyone in the meeting, something about the latest demographic numbers for the supes and she was meant to be taking notes about it all, but she lost track. Whoever decided it was a good idea to have a meeting at the end of the day on a Friday was an idiot. Another few minutes of this and she could leave, once the clock ticked over to 5pm and the weekend was officially upon them. She kept glancing up at the time, her heeled foot shaking in anticipation for a regular meeting of her own that she was excited to get to.

Ever since Vought’s Christmas party a few months ago, when she caught the attention of Soldier Boy and they spent the night together, she’d leave the Friday meeting, pack up her things and get her night started with him. It was never anything serious between them, just some fun between them every week, and that was exactly what she needed.

A smile came to her face as she got lost in thought about everything he had in store for her, just as Mr. Edgar dismissed everyone for the weekend. She picked up her things and walked out behind all the male employees who she couldn’t stand. She was Mr. Edgar’s assistant but there were times that she was forced to do tasks some of the other suits wanted her to do, no matter how much she protested. They were all arrogant, entitled assholes who only wanted one thing when they looked at her, and even though Soldier Boy was no different because he also was a man of his time, at least he never pretended to be anything else around her.

Y/N walked back to her desk and put everything on top, ready to collect once she decided to leave, before she made her way down the hallway towards the loft apartments where the supes resided. She stopped in front of the door marked with “Soldier Boy” in gold letters, turning the knob and letting herself in, which was what she always did considering the door was unlocked after 5pm just for her. As she strolled into the apartment, she unbuttoned and took off her gray blazer, draping it over the back of one of the armchairs, smiling at the sound of a Sinatra song coming from the record player in the corner.

“Right on time,” she heard his deep, rough voice enter the room as he walked from his bedroom to the bar.

She turned around, a shiver running down her back as she took in his appearance. “I’m nothing if not punctual.”

Soldier Boy smirked as he poured a generous amount of whiskey into two tumblers, moving out from behind the bar as he sauntered over to her, his suit unzipped and revealing the white t-shirt he was wearing underneath. He swiped something off the surface before he stood in front of her, handing her a glass.

“After the day I’ve had, I really need this,” she said, turning the tumbler around in her hand. “Cheers.”

He clinked his glass against hers, a grin on his face as he watched her take a few sips. He held up the small, plastic bag with a handful of pills inside, waving it in front of her eyes which had her pause drinking, their gazes locked on each other.

“Anything else you really need?”

“Yes,” she breathed, her mouth opening slightly.

They kept their eyes on each other as he took out two of the small, round tablets from the bag. She stuck her tongue out a little, making him groan at the sight as he placed one of the pills on it, watching her swallow it down and taking a sip of her whiskey. He continued to stare at her as he tossed the tablet back with a swig of his drink, frowning as he saw her put her now empty glass down as she began to unbutton her blouse.

“You know that’s my job, doll,” he husked, his eyes darkened as he looked at her. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

He wasted no more time as he threw back the rest of the amber liquid, tossing the glass behind him and hearing it shatter, unbothered by the scattered pieces across the floor. He moved towards her, pulling her roughly into his arms as he pressed his lips to hers, the kiss as searing and erotic as all their previous encounters. He grasped her shirt in his hands, ripping it down the front, a squeal escaping her as the buttons flew everywhere. By now he usually had her on the bed, on her back with her legs thrown over his shoulders, but he had other plans for her as he pushed her down on the sofa. The fingers of one hand curled into the leather as the other moved between the soft locks of his hair, his head between her thighs and making her come undone in no time at all as she screamed his name and covered his mouth in her arousal.

Before she could fully comprehend what was happening, Soldier Boy gathered her in his strong arms and carried her over to the dining table, roughly dropping her down on the surface as their hands frantically pulled off the rest of each other’s clothes. With her back meeting the cold wood of the table and her legs wrapped around his waist, she moaned wantonly as he thrusted into her, moving faster and harder with every mutter of his name from her lips. It wasn’t long before she reached the peak for a second time, a giggle of disbelief leaving her as she came down from her high.

They made it to the bed eventually. With one last release from her triggering his, they came together as he grunted, a smirk pulling at his lips when he felt the way he spilled inside her walls. He rolled off her, her nimble fingers plucking the sheet up and pulling it over them, just as he reached for the cigarettes on his nightstand. He took one out of the pack and placed it between his lips, picking up his lighter and flicking it, bringing the small flame to the tip. He took a long drag before he blew it out, closing his eyes in satisfaction as he felt Y/N take the cigarette from between his fingers. As he opened them, he turned to look at her, watching the way she held it between her own fingers, the way her lips closed around the filter.

“Well, you really know how to take my mind off things, that’s for damn sure,” she stated, laughing softly as she placed the cigarette in the ashtray that sat on the nightstand.

“It’s a fucking gift,” he grinned. “Better take a breather, ‘cause I ain't done with you yet, sugar.”

She smiled, a small sigh escaping her as she thought back on the day. “It’s a good thing we keep this little rendezvous of ours on a Friday because those meetings are slow, agonizing torture.”

“I’m guessing it was a meeting with Stan?” he asked, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her neck.

“Yeah,” she replied, a small gasp falling from her lips as he continued to nip at her skin. “He just stresses me out about everything.”

She tried to resist him as he nuzzled at her neck, trying to move further down, but she eventually gave in with a low moan. Her eyes closed as her head fell back against the pillow, feeling his lips move down her collarbone and pull the sheet down, exposing her breasts to him. Her eyebrows furrowed as he nipped and sucked at her flesh, his tongue circling over her nipple.

“Handling the supes is getting to be too much as well, thanks to him,” she muttered, biting down on her lip as she tried to move away from him.

She could feel herself getting lost to his skillful tongue and fingers, but the second round he was trying to start needed to wait. She was only human, and didn’t have the same stamina he had as a supe.

He lifted his head, releasing the stiff bud with a wet pop, staring down at her. “Even me?”

“Especially you,” she countered, a mischievous smile pulling at her lips.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he began, his signature smirk on his face as his hand drifted down under the sheets, moving between her legs and feeling how wet she was again. Their eyes locked as he teased her folds with his fingers, causing her to gasp and a deep, rough chuckle to escape him as he didn’t take his gaze off her. “I think you’re pretty fucking capable of handling all of me.”

“Stop,” she giggled, trying and failing to push him away.

“You’re the one who can’t stay away, doll.”

“Maybe I should,” she challenged, lifting an eyebrow as she looked up at him.

Soldier Boy’s green eyes darkened with lust, and something else she had no desire to identify. A short gasp of pleasure escaped her as his thumb brushed over her clit, his intense stare never leaving her as the digit circled around the bundle of nerves. Her eyes fluttered closed as a long, drawn out moan left her mouth, his fingers sinking into her tight heat.

“See… if you did that, then you wouldn’t be right here, with my fingers fucking into your tight little pussy,” he grunted, his jaw tight as he looked down at her through hooded eyes.

Y/N didn’t recognize the sound she made as he started to thrust his fingers into her, maybe it was a moan, but it was a shrill cry, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she was giving into him once more. As she always did whenever she found herself back here, every single Friday.

“You always come back to a little… pillow talk, don’t ya, sugar?”

The words were just above a whisper, the rough timbre of his voice causing a shiver to run down her back as she wrapped her arm around his neck, holding onto him as she nodded, letting him pleasure her in every way he wanted. He knew she had only been teasing him when she said she’d stay away from him. They both knew her resolve wasn’t that strong.

She wasn’t going to give up this little ritual of theirs any time soon.

[gallierhouse]

Do you think Armand would use Tumblr? And if so, what for?

I can’t really see him being on Tumblr, unless there’s some genuinely transgressive subculture on here I’m unaware of. Transgressive in the sense that it’d be at the minimum utterly novel, not people posting poetry about cannibalism or Ethel Cain or the eroticism of the machine or whatever. That’s all mainstream. I think he’d be on some extremely obscure but intensely dedicated hobbyist forum for whatever random thing he’s taken an interest in. Maybe he’s got 5000 posts on a website dedicated to repairing iPads and taking them off the global Apple network or something. Maybe he’s the moderator of some forum dedicated to obscure, untranslated commedia dell'arte plays, but only ones which involve violent deaths. Maybe he runs a movie review website and only watches odd little experimental films and YouTube cartoons or something, and he’s got 10 very dedicated fans, and they’re all sharing their opinions on Muscle (1989) or something. Maybe someone gave him access to autotune and his terrible screeching music is being played in underground raves all around the world. No Spotify, only people sending MP3s to each other or recording live till the quality’s totally unbearable. Maybe he’s got a TikTok spam account where he’s literally addicted to posting his thoughts against a black background 24/7 and they’re all incomprehensible but teenage lesbians find them very relatable and he ends up being a micro celebrity who gets referenced in some experimental pop artist’s song in an otherwise unremarkable EP. I genuinely think he might be making playlists on that iPad of his to communicate with Lestat. Lestat’s not receiving his communications; he’s just putting them out into the world like subliminals. Maybe he’s really deep in some ridiculous argument about the porosity of different plastics in the comments of a YouTube video or something. Who knows? He’s an endless mystery.

[the-hottest-band-tournament]

Round Two

Devo

Defeated opponents: Possessed

Formed in: 1973

Genres: New wave, synth-pop, art punk, post-punk, art pop, rock,electronic rock, geek rock

Lineup: Gerald Casale– lead and backing vocals, bass, keyboards

Mark Mothersbaugh– lead and backing vocals, keyboards, guitar

Bob "Bob 1" Mothersbaugh– lead guitar, backing and lead vocals

Bob "Bob 2" Casale– rhythm guitar, keyboards, backing vocals

Alan Myers– drums

Albums from the 80s: 

Freedom of Choice (1980)

DEV-O Live EP (1981)

New Traditionalists (1981)

Oh, No! It's Devo (1982)

Shout (1984

E-Z Listening Disc (1987) (compilation of fan club records)

Total Devo (1988)

Now it Can Be Told: DEVO at the Palace (1989)

Propaganda: “They became MTV stars while wearing plastic flowerpot-like "energy dome" hats. They may not have had much chart success, but everyone knew who they were, and was aware of their unique and peculiar brand of music.”

“Look at their slutty little shorts!”

Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young

Defeated opponents: KIX

Formed in: 1968, reformed in 1973 and 1976

Genres: Folk rock, country rock, folk pop, soft rock

Lineup: David Crosby- vocals, guitar

Stephen Stills- vocals, guitar, bass, keyboards, percussion

Graham Nash- vocals, guitar, keyboards

Neil Young- vocals, guitar, keyboards, harmonica

Albums from the 80s:

Daylight Again (1982)

American Dream (1988)

Propaganda:

Visual propaganda for Devo:

[mosessumney]

On 10 Years of Mid-City Island

I was painstakingly self-conscious in the beginning of my career. I’d grown up accustomed to writing in a vacuum, in my childhood bedroom, in my dorm room, hiding my songbook inside my mattress or at the bottom of a drawer. I always thought I’d get to make my first recordings in total obscurity, clumsily clanging around.

But months before I began recording my first EP, things blew up.

After a few shows and 2 bedroom recordings, seemingly everyone from the Los Angeles music scene was suddenly peering into my window, waiting to see what my first offering would be, hoping for commodifiable gloss. I was wined and dined and unrefined.

But I didn’t want to record the “R&B record” that would make me famous. I wanted to make something experimental akin to the early recordings I loved – Linda Perhacs’ Parallelograms; Sufjan Stevens’s A Sun Came; the scratchy musings of Cody ChestnuTT and Milton Nascimento; the kitchen candor of Jessica Pratt. Instead I was often shipped to fancy producers’ and execs’ home studios and offices, forced to listen to them preach about how I was a star-in-waiting. I didn’t want to be a star. I wanted to be honest.

But secretly, I did feel like a star. Gaseous and infinite, distant and intangible, shining bright in the middle of a constellation, unable to touch the celestial bodies around me. I scribed “Man on the Moon” on a red guitar I bought on sale from a shuttering music store.

In one of these producer meetings, I journeyed to the top of a mountain to meet TV on the Radio’s Dave Sitek. He gave me a four-track recorder and told me to say “f*ck off” to everyone trying to sign or produce me. He told me to find my own voice or others would find it for me. He taught me how to record myself to tape, sparking an affinity for analogue processes. I “borrowed” the tape recorder, promising I would come back when I had found my sound. It sits now on the topmost shelf in my home studio. I guess I’m still searching.

Mid-City, Los Angeles was more of a concept than a place. Seemingly nobody had ever heard of it, and yet it was the geographic center of the city. Living there felt analogous to my disposition as a “rising” Angeleno – highly visible and invisible at the same time. It was an urban island and the sun beat its concrete ceaselessly. I sat on my bedroom floor and wrote “Plastic,” listening to Amy Winehouse demos and thinking about how we let our stars fall as long as they entertain us on the way down.

I recorded these misgivings straight to cassette on that Yamaha MT4X, feeling like a historian tracing my own origins. I loved that it sounded older than it was. I felt older than I was. I decided then that I would press it to vinyl in 10 years. I couldn’t afford to make vinyl records anyway. Instead, I backpacked little cassette tapes I would sign and sell at shows.

I realized early on that being visible (but not necessarily seen) was just gonna be a part of my story. How blessed I was to push through it with clear vision – and now I’m forced to stop and reflect. 10 years later, I’m still thinking 10 years ahead. Ask me about now in 10 years. Shoot, ask me in 20.

- M

______________________________________________________________

"Mid-City Island," our limited-edition 10 year anniversary black vinyl, is available to pre-order now: mosessumney.bandcamp.com/album/mid-city-island

[6-and-7]

An Unearthly Child Barbara Wright and Ian Chesterton, two humble teachers during 1963, are surprised by a bright student named Susan Foreman. Confused by the contradictions in Susan's knowledge, Barbara had decided to visit her home, only to learn that the address on record is a junkyard. She and Ian decide to wait at the location until Susan or her grandfather show up. There, they discover a junkyard inhabited by her grandfather, simply known as "the Doctor", and he doesn't want them lurking about.

When the teachers refuse to leave, they discover that an ordinary police box is actually bigger on the inside. The Doctor decides they know too much about his and Susan's otherworldly origins and takes them on a journey across space and time in his TARDIS, the place he and Susan now call home.

Rose Rose Tyler believes she is living another day of her "ordinary" life, but after being threatened by Autons (living plastic) controlled by the Nestene Consciousness, she meets the Ninth Doctor.

[niki-phoria]

couldn't find a gif of prince gyu :// but he's so cute here my bf (real)

pairing: beomgyu x 6th member!male!reader (he/him pronouns) genre: fluff word count: 1.0k

request: I have been thinking about this, in which Choi Beomgyu has a Boyfriend who is completely opposite of him. He's quite and calm and likes video games. But that didn't stop them to have cute moments with each other.

includes: barely based on to-do ep 96 (the prince ep), the chaos is kinda implied ?? idk reader is just kinda quiet lol, clingy gyu i need to write for him more

a/n: thank you so much for requesting !! this idea was really cute, i hope you like it :))

requests open !! read my rules first

you tug at the sleeves of your prince costume as you follow behind taehyun into the set. the polyester feels slightly uncomfortable against your skin. it’s warm wearing so many layers, especially underneath the bright studio lights above. 

a makeshift castle has been built to further add to your faux status. “give an introduction to the cameras.” a staff member says. you nod, preparing yourself. beside you, beomgyu squeezes your hand. you reach up to brush a strand from his bangs aside, fixing his fringe for him before they start recording.

“i’ll have to improvise,” soobin murmurs as he walks out in front of the castle. “hello, i’m the ultimate face of korea, choi soobin.” 

“you have to add ‘prince’ to the end.” kai calls. 

“and i’m a prince.” soobin steps aside, making room for yeonjun to introduce himself. beomgyu goes next, waving to the cameras in front of him, followed by taehyun, kai, and finally, you. 

“hello everyone,” you wave. “i’m prince y/n. it’s nice to meet you all.” 

beomgyu smiles, coaxing you over to stand beside him. taehyun pats your shoulder as he makes room for you. “we got this from an owl earlier,” kai says, pulling a note out of his pocket. “all five of you here today are great princes, but there is only one main character in this fairy tale. we will now begin ‘a singer in reality’ but a prince in this world and a test in search for its main character!” 

“shall we begin?” the production crew asks. 

“sounds good!”

“should we do the to-do intro before we begin?” kai asks. you hold your hands up, repeating the same motions that have become second nature at this point. 

“to-do!” 

“chapter three, ambition.” a staff member announces. a small table with ten candles is sitting in the middle of the room. “choose an object from the table beside you. you’ll use it to try and put out as many candles as possible.” 

yeonjun goes first, dramatically swinging a plastic sword around the room. you stand to the side next to beomgyu. he smiles, letting you play with his fingers as you wait for your cue to take your turns. yeonjun raises the sword, swinging it towards the candles. it hits straight into the side of them, sending multiple wax fragments throughout the room. 

he gasps, hiding behind soobin as he covers his mouth. you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you as you glance between the candles and the staff in shock. “do you need help cleaning it up?” 

a few staff members help you pick up the remains of the candles, setting them aside to be thrown away later before they replace the candles on the table. “huening kai will go next,” soobin says, gesturing for him to stand in front of the table. kai swings the bat over the flames successfully putting out four of them. 

“wow,” you applaud. 

“he beat yeonjun, for starters,” soobin laughs. “okay, beomgyu next.” 

with his plastic sickle in hand, beomgyu practices swinging the blade over the candles. “it can’t be that hard, right?” 

he dances around behind the table, preparing for his swing. his first attempt misses completely; blade passing directly over the flames and not affecting them at all. you chuckle as he seamlessly continues dancing, brushing off the failed attempt. 

“was that the swing?” taehyun asks. 

“it’s part of his intro,” you defend. “he’ll do great.” 

beomgyu smiles, trying again. this time he puts out seven flames. he props the sickle on his shoulder as he taunts the camera. “did you see that?” 

“the sickle may be the best one among ours,” soobin says. 

beomgyu returns to his place next to you with a smile. you reach over to grab his hand, squeezing it in yours. “good job,” you whisper. 

his smile grows as the staff set up another set of candles in preparation of taehyun’s turn. “thank you.” 

beomgyu sighs as he lays down on the couch next to you. he shifts so his head is in your lap. you smile, gently running your fingers through his hair. “tired?” 

“not yet,” he hums. “just wanna cuddle with you.” 

“okay honey.” you reach over to grab one of the console controllers, holding the second out for beomgyu. “do you wanna play?” 

he nods as he moves to sit in your lap. you lean so you can see the screen, resting your chin on his shoulder. your arms snake around his waist to hold your controller with both hands. you press a small kiss against his shoulder as beomgyu relaxes in your hold, leaning back against your chest. 

the hours pass by quickly. after a long day of filming, your eyes slowly begin to grow more tired before keeping them open becomes a chore. you sigh as you set the controller aside. beomgyu follows your lead, pushing you down on the couch to lay against your chest. he’s quick to make himself comfortable against you as you reach over to exit the game before sigh, allowing yourself to fall asleep on the couch with your boyfriend in your arms. 

“they’re so cute,” yeonjun chuckles. “they must’ve fallen asleep while gaming again.” 

“let them sleep,” soobin swats him away. “we have the day off. besides, they need the rest.” 

you sleepily blink yourself awake, sitting up a little. beomgyu’s body lays sprawled on top of your own. your legs are intertwined together, his head resting on your chest. his hair is sprawled out. the strands tickle against your skin. his arm lays over your body, pinning you down onto the couch. 

your game controllers lay forgotten on the floor. the tv is off - either from inactivity or from one of the boys finding you earlier. “sorry,” soobin whispers. “did we wake you?” 

“no, your voice is raspy. “it’s okay.” 

“we’ll wake you up later when breakfast is done. get some rest.” 

“thank you,” you smile. soobin nods, retreating back into the kitchen. you shift, wrapping your arms further around beomgyu’s waist. he sleepily sighs as he moves even closer against you. you lean down, pressing a kiss against his forehead. “i love you,” you whisper. 

“love you too.” he mumbles back. 

[daggerzine]

Throwback Thursday #69!- Young Marble Giants- Colossal Youth (1980 Rough Trade)

This Welsh trio of Alison Statton and the Moxham brothers, Stuart and Philip, weren't around long, a few years, but released a couple of excellent EPs and this, their lone LP in 1980. 

Stark and minimal doesn't even begin to describe it. You've got ultra-nominal guitar/bass/organ and a hushed drum machine. Oh and the recited vocals of Statton, all to create this totally unique record. 

You have stellar cuts like the opening "Searching for Mr Right," the echoey/jagged "Include Me Out," and the weirdly haunting "The Taxi," ...and that's the first three songs. 

Elsewhere, "N.I.T.A." comes directly out of the future, while you can almost dance to the title track, and "Credit in the Straight World"  (covered in the 90s by Hole) stabs a plastic fork in every direction, and hits each and every time.

The EPs are totally worth your time as well, but man, Colossal Youth is the one. A magical debut by a band that wasn't long for this world, but made the most of it.

www.dominomusic.com

[nezumithewriter]

season three of the magnus archives was fucking awesome

ep 81: "guess who got framed for murder" "anyways my childhood was fucked up"

ep 82: "it was a little bloody and i didn't like daisy" - my mother

ep 83: "JON? There's a weird letter in the mailbox for you. Says.. uh... 'statement of'" jon crashing through the wall with tape recorder sfx

ep 84: I GOT A JOB AT THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE?!? (I'M INEXTRICABLY TIED TO A BEING BEYOND MY COMPREHENSION)

ep 85: The man was there but also wasn't, fuck you want from me?

ep 86: Holy fuck i love melanie king i can't think of a funny 3am joke for this one except i can WORKING MY JOB AT THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES (READ A PAPER ABOUT CHILDHOOD TRAUMA) (MY COWORKERS NEED THERAPY) but seriously i love melanie king so much i need her to get out of there and to safety

ep 87: the Stranger watching this plumber with adhd swag walk in, fix their pipes, and leave despite all of the dead people's faces being cut off around him

ep 88: DIG.

ep 89: girlboss explains her fire fetish to concerned eldritch entity in training, oh and also AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

ep 90: dude calm the fuck down they're just doing some reps on the high bar so what if they have no eyes it's fine dude why are you running

ep 91: Daisy Tonner kills mr. blue sky

ep 92: Elias really said "acab, also i killed gertrude and leitner lol. we're at war with a dozen or so eldritch abominations"

ep 93: Jonathan Sims explains the magnus archives lore to his friends after reading a statement about the corruption from terraria

ep 94: "the monster stole all of my 'give a damn' many years ago"

ep 95: Basira reading her alchemy book two feet away while Martin has a crisis over the fact he can feel the emotions of the statement giver when recording

ep 96: Jon and Daisy do a silly and commit a crime or two (broke and entered, murdered a mandela catalogue alternate, etc)

ep 97: "Are you going to kill me?" "What?? No!!!" "..." "well not rn!!!"

ep 98: "Are you worried about getting fired?" Melanie on her way to commit attempted murder

ep 99: Jonathan Sims gets kidnapped by the clown police (ASMR)

ep 100: can't believe we got The Spiral, The Desolation, The Web, the Dark/Buried, the Lonely in the same episode. the statements were so well done and the were clear and precise

ep 101: "why is the door locked" michael, 2 seconds before helen has a gamer's rise up moment

ep 102: knives, beetle wives, french, oh my!

ep 103: jon really said "fuck it we ball" and decided to use his eldritch powers to be petty

ep 104: "Tim! I might be an eldritch monster but that was unacceptable!"

ep 105: "你说中文?" "no i don't speak chinese"

ep 106: FUCK YOU ELIAS (GONE WRONG) (I WANT THIS BITCH DEAD)

ep 107: JON EATS THE STATEMENTS AND ALSO TREVOR AND JULIA ARE THERE THIS IS THE FIRST EPISODE WHERE I FELT INCREDIBLY EXCITED IS THIS WHAT MCU FANS FELT LIKE ENDGAME

ep 108: "Was he… woOoOo?" -- Basira Hussain, 2017

ep 109: FNAF but with three screaming corpses and a guy

ep 110: trans cinematographer deconstructs the film industry (and mr spider is there too)

ep 111: Jon interviews an emo book (real)

ep 112: #1 Victory Royale

ep 113: "STOP-- touching the plastic explosive"

ep 114: daisy and tim getting happy over the prospect of exploding a circus

ep 115: delicious, finally some good fucking food

ep 116: fuck your dance in particular *CANNON SFX*

ep 117: "hope we don't die!" vs tim and daisy's "fuck it we ball"

ep 118: Martin gets to commit arson-- FUCK YOU ELIAS FUCK YOU ELIAS FUCK YOU ELIAS FU

ep 119: genuinely one of the coolest episodes i've ever listened to due in part to the fact that i was just as confused as the characters (i listened without a transcript). The ways the stranger fucks with the archives team while they're slowly going insane from how much they've forgotten and no longer understand is phenomenal. I'm gonna miss Tim.

ep 120: world's weirdest clipshow that ends with police brutality

[99centmusecd]

🔥🔥🔥THEY'RE HERE🔥🔥🔥

(wow the image quality kinda got scrungled... oops)

Scissors, Odin, Ouja, 2 Zoldas, 3 Knights... and not one, not 3, but 6 Ryukis! They make such a fun hollow plastic sound when they're dumped in a pile together hahaha. The listing had them as "dirty and damaged" but just a wet q-tip was enough to make them look much nicer.

Size comparison with SHF Vulcan (honestly, one of my favorites SHF so far, up there with Thouser and Ex-Aid... though, all the others I have are either new and expensive or old and breakable so I don't pose them near as much)

Investigating and Invading my desk

And another something special! An EP by Scissor's actor, who was in the band The Lantern until 2006. There's hardly anything about the band online; I can only find one recording anywhere (though I'm probably not looking in the right places tbh tbh) but I've been looking off and on for months and finally!

:)

[scarystickers]

THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES IMPRESSIONS: EP 95 - 99

EP 95: Absent Without Leave

Not that I’m complaining but why is Martin recording them when Jon is back? I like the war perspective, historical episodes are always interesting. Good on Basira for looking on the bright side of things.

EP 96: Return To Sender

Backstory on weird mover guys!! Circus guy getting mentioned again is a bit concerning. Wait I’m confused, why this episode and then Sarah Baldwin? How does that correlate? OH IT’S THE TAXIDERMY PLACE. I miss Sasha. Gertrude killed Daniel and took the skin??? DAISY JUST SHOT HER?????? I love Daisy’s voice actor omg.

EP 97: We All Ignore The Pit

So wait is Jon at the archives or still at Georgies? Or somewhere else entirely? Since Martin said he was only coming in to ask for a book or something. Wait nevermind he’s still at Georgies. Wasn’t he moving out? Wait. That voice sounds so familiar. OH MY GOD, IT’S THAT ONE AUDIO. “How can I sound anything silly, I’m plastic!” OH MY GODDDDDD IT’S THAT AUDIO!!! I WAS TRYING TO FIND WHERE IT WAS FROM SO I COULD WATCH IT OMG. Guess episode 100 or season finale is going to be the dance.

EP 98: Lights Out

YAY MORE MARTIN! Tim is so real because how is everyone else so chill about the archives. Oh Jon offered the job, okay yeah the hatred makes more sense. Rayner was that guy who visted the prisoner and ran that cult where Basira and Daisy tried for arrest him, right? How has this guy stayed alive for so long??? So reading these statements sucks the energy out of people not claimed by the eye? Since instead of harnessing the supernatural energy and feeding the eye, the eye consumes them? Melanie what are you planning because you paused for far too long before saying yes?? Guys I’m confused again I don’t understand anything :’)

EP 99: Dust To Dust

I don’t have anything to really say about this episode. MICHAEL???????? MICHAEL WAS GERTRUDES MARTIN???????????? “10 years yet before I can afford a conscience” Why 10 years??? What does that mean Gertrude??? Jon screaming “what the hell are you” is so real right now. So wait can you only have one avatar per weird god thingy? Because if so then what’s Elias’s deal???? Georgie is actually such a good friend I love them so much. Aaaand Jon just got kidnapped by the weird mover dudes. That’s great.

[skeeverboy]

the front bottoms are so beautiful to me. i could listen to their full discography in order and the growth of their music is fascinating, progression in lyrics and songwriting and instrumentation and comfort. their albums make a very clean timeline to me

ihmf-s/t all has a very similar vibe. it’s like they recorded it all in a basement (which they actually did, for a lot of them) and it almost feels personal. like you’re watching them practice their band.

toth has its own completely unique vibe for me, maybe because it was the first album i really listened through and fixated on, but the lyric writing gets a little less blunt, and the instrumentals get a little more melodic.

liberty and prosperity, joanie, and back on top start to feel much more produced. a lot more electric guitar feauturing, way more experimentation. for instance, the speaking in plastic flowers, GDP’s participation in this era. this was really a time for serious growth.

i know a lot of people hate going grey. i didn’t love it at first, but it feels like a pivotal moment in tfb history. it feels almost like a defined turn from their old style into their new one. it’s exploring new territory. it’s a segue between back on top era and sickness & in flames.

is&if i know is a lot of people’s favorite album. it’s really good. it’s way more produced, fun auto tune stuff previously not used in their music (which then also became a feature on yawyhow). it’s definitely decisively in the “pop punk” genre rather than kind of straying the line between folk punk and emo like their older stuff.

yawyhow is exactly where i’d expect them to end up. more produced, fun with auto tune, it’s like amped up is&if with a different lyrical vibe. i can’t wait for their next album, whenever that is, and see where they end up.

(i’m ignoring grandma eps and singles)

[the-hottest-band-tournament]

Round Three of The Hottest 80s Band Tournament

Devo

Defeated opponents: Possessed, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

Formed in: 1973

Genres: New wave, synth-pop, art punk, post-punk, art pop, rock,electronic rock, geek rock

Lineup: Gerald Casale– lead and backing vocals, bass, keyboards

Mark Mothersbaugh– lead and backing vocals, keyboards, guitar

Bob "Bob 1" Mothersbaugh– lead guitar, backing and lead vocals

Bob "Bob 2" Casale– rhythm guitar, keyboards, backing vocals

Alan Myers– drums

Albums from the 80s: 

Freedom of Choice (1980)

DEV-O Live EP (1981)

New Traditionalists (1981)

Oh, No! It's Devo (1982)

Shout (1984

E-Z Listening Disc (1987) (compilation of fan club records)

Total Devo (1988)

Now it Can Be Told: DEVO at the Palace (1989)

Propaganda: “They became MTV stars while wearing plastic flowerpot-like "energy dome" hats. They may not have had much chart success, but everyone knew who they were, and was aware of their unique and peculiar brand of music.”

“Look at their slutty little shorts!”

Faith No More

Defeated opponents: ‘Til Tuesday, Huey Lewis and the News

Formed in: 1979

Genres: Rap metal, funk metal

Lineup: Mike Bordin – drums

Roddy Bottum – keyboards

Bill Gould – bass

James Martin – guitars

Mike Patton – vocals

Albums from the 80s:

We Care a Lot (1985)

Introduce Yourself (1987)

The Real Thing (1989)

Propaganda: 

Visual propaganda for Devo:

[risingshards]

Things I am not over from the movie (Venture Bros spoilers)

-That little moment of Doc being able to calculate how long they have in freefall, like he's actually really really smart he just is burdened with [gestures to his entire life prior]. I love any moment where he gets to actually be competent.

-"All you need to know is that the person who gave birth to you loves you. I promise they do." That is maybe the most beautiful line in the entire series I'm SOBBING. Bonus points that its true meaning is super science weirdness overflowing with love. That's the series in a nutshell.

-That potentially the last shot of the series is the Venture Bros' first "Go Team Venture"

-How hilarious it was that Monarch and 21's new outfits had the squeaky plastic/leather sounds, IIRC Jackson and Doc wanted that for something earlier in the show but couldn't get it

-The pee in a jar reference (I cannot believe this got in and I can't believe how sentimental it made me)

-Dermott stealing and hoarding Venture relics, I love that he joined OSI and basically ended up in the same spot

-My theories getting obliterated. I should've shared it beforehand but my big theory going in: In commentary for S3 they kind of go over an early version of Bobbi's history with Rusty and Jonas. My thought was that Bobbi St. Simone was not only the boys' mother with Rusty but also that she was Brock's mom who she had with Jonas, making him both the boys' brother and also Rusty's. It made perfect sense in my head but I'm glad I was wrong in hindsight lol. Force Majeure had a very similar face to Brock though so maybe that's his dad hmm...

-I kept waiting to see what the title meant, and with the cover I was expecting a giant baboon to show up that was somehow dormant under Ventech tower, but the actual title ended up making a lot of sense (and the gushing baboon blood mentioned in press releases ended up being Monarch's...)

-James Urbaniak posted a bit of the script that had me anxious about the movie for a long while, the last audio he recorded for the movie were screams for the electromagnetic scene, and he shared a bit of the script and covered most of it up so it just read like "HATRED screams and opens fire.....HELPER is COMPLETELY DESTROYED." So I kept imagining how it would go, assuming they were going up against some ruthless enemy not trying to destroy a bunch of Alexas in an electromagnetically charged room. I had a nightmare where weirdly enough the scene was happening in space which ended up being where the scene took place which is weird, but in the dream version Hatred like violently died and I was so devastated. I must care about the Venture crew a great deal because I've definitely had nightmares about characters dying before big eps/specials before, before Operation PROM I had a dream about Orpheus getting lit on fire that I still remember and shudder thinking about. Also seeing Helper safe (well their head at least) in the ending was a great anxiety douser cuz from the script I thought Helper got like disintigrated and the movie would have tons of characters dying in some Venture-pocalypse.

-Monarch is Rusty clone 22, making him and 21's friendship more numerically satisfying

-Going by that my assumption is approximately 20 Rusty Ventures bit the dust before our Rusty lasted, just like his boys.

-THAT POST CREDITS SCENE UGHHHHHHHH MY HEARRRRTTTTT

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: The Spatulas — Part 1

The Spatulas churn out uneasy jangle pop straight from the garage — or, more literally, the storage unit where the band met to play and beat back their pandemic frustrations. Their sound is built on blunt yet psychedelic melodies, chopping guitar, and rhythms that lurch then steady themselves. Assembled in various forms over the last several years, the Oregon-based quartet released March Chant, their first EP,in December of 2023. Alex Johnson found it “raw and charming…a full band record [that pairs] the relief at venting your anger and the goofy waywardness of distracting yourself with a joyful noise.”

Miranda's List: A bunch of songs that seem to make me me...

Mope Grooves — Look At The Time, 2018

Catchiest song ever. My friend Stevie made a bunch of wonderful music in her lifetime and was a beautiful person. Everything she put out on her label, See My Friends Records is great, and she included many of my fellow Oregonians on Mope Grooves albums. Our previous Spats drummer, Kyle closes out this song "Look At The Time" with that wave of nostalgic synth sound.

Pip Proud — De Dum De Dum, 1967

The original recording of this Pip Proud album is golden all the way through. I listened to this alone on a sheep farm in Oregon in the middle of rainy winter in 2021 and it influenced my writing a lot.

Nico — One More Chance, 1983

Nico at her most gothic rock. I love this echoey version — makes me wanna dance! The beat is great. Ambient synth sounds abound; her vocals incredible as ever... The origins of The Drama of Exile, her fifth album — so full of drug-addled dysfunction!

Pearls Before Swine — Playmate, 1967

One Nation Underground is one of my most listened-to records; the grooves are worn. I used to cover the opener song, “Another Time” pre-Spats, with my Partners, Buddies and Pals. “Playmate” is the upbeat, second song on the album, a cover of an old children’s song, which I think is perfect for me. “(Oh Dear) Miss Morse,” is another hit on side A, on side B it's “Uncle John” and “Surrealistic Waltz.”

Grace Slick & The Great Society — Often As I May, 1966

This song propels you along. It sounds so beautiful, like a traditional folk song, yet a Slick original. Great fun to sing along with this gal.

Lou Reed — Waves of Fear, 1981

Robert Quine’s guitar hits the spot, and with Lou’s voice and guitar, those lyrics — so hard!

Yoko Ono & Plastic Ono Band — Why, 1970

The most adventurous and exciting song ever. Yoko’s primal screaming, with John’s guitar wailing, and Klaus, and Ringo clipping along... WHYYYYYY????? A brilliant reminder to LET IT OUT.

The Bats — Made Up in Blue, 1986

Beloved. Great bass. The song that I think put this Flying Nun band on the map, leading up to another special full album, Daddy’s Highway from 1987, the year I was born. The accompanying music video is a treasure!

Broadcast — I Found The F, 2005

We’re so lucky to have the album Tender Buttons, and the band Broadcast. The album was made while singer Trish Keenan’s father was dying of cancer, six years before she herself died of pneumonia from swine flu. Knowing this makes it all the more eerily personal and sweet-sounding for me. Both my parents were dead by the time I was 32, so I’m familiar with making art as a response to grief.

Don Cherry and Organic Music Theater — Om Shanti Om, 1976

This is the full live performance at RAI Studios in Rome, Italy, for television broadcast. Listen to the ~47-minute album Om Shanti Om as much needed meditation. Imagine also all Moki Cherry’s tapestries in full color, as featured in the Blank Forms book I was so engrossed in last summer.

[open-hangar]

Space Defense Lanzer Ep. 23 & 24

SIYANQOBA MECHANICAL RECORDS

Ngodumo Lwe Siyanqoba

Prototype Lanzer “Ulta Lanzer”

Size: 25m, 80 tons

Power Output: ~1.1 gW/minute onboard

Pilots: 1 active pilot

Weaponry and abilities: Space flight, extremely limited atmospheric flight, heavy onboard artillery. Very heavy armor.

Etc: Do not attempt ground action for obvious reasons.

—

Councilwoman Resplendent Truth watched the monitors with only the most thinly-veiled expression of disdain. Markers representing Lunarian battleships high in orbit around Earth blinked out of existence, a wave spreading in a straight line for where Earth’s moon will be in 12 hours. She balls her fists in anger before slamming down on the computer console in front of her, putting a slight dent in the steel-weaved plastic.

“How are they DOING THIS?!”

—

Two hours ago, 20 rockets simultaneously launched from 20 Launch Base Zones across the continent. Built on the specifications of the rocket that destroyed the Catina Brigitte, each had a large array of plasma blasters designed to fill the local area with fire, one giant blaster to fire on battleships, and a small accompaniment of Lanzers, except for one. But on top of these, they all contained a large payload of unprocessed chargon and were programmed on a direct path to Copernicus City, the largest city on the moon’s surface.

Kpt. Nomfundo Dimba, whose breath was beginning to fog the inside of her space suit’s helmet, watched her instruments intently. They’ve just left the upper atmosphere and entered the vacuum of space, and all of the rockets are reporting no problems. The BIUST rocket was flying in visual range, and just cracked open its cone to fire on the battleship that was providing air coverage over Kwazulu. A massive flower of green fire signaled that the southern peninsula of the continent was now safe for expansion. This mission now proved to be at least a partial success.

Ningasivaleli ngaphandle

Nathi sifun’ ukuphil’ i-soft life (Soft life)

A soft noise, an echo rang in Nomfundo’s ears, and she reflexively touched the broken metal collar that she kept around her shoulder. With a deep breath, she brought up the frequencies to the rockets and fired off a quick message.

“Set in for a long trip. Only send messages if you come across resistance. Dimba over and out.”

—

Lt. Elysian Truth looked at their team, a group of a dozen or so pilots that stood at attention. The last however many missions filled Truth with guilt, doubt, and uncertainty, and every day the same thoughts ran through their head. Why were we fighting? Could I get away? What would mother think? Do these people respect me?

Elysian was always bad at giving speeches, and as they struggled to think of the words to say, their team simply stood and looked, the councilwoman’s child’s piloting abilities more than pulling the weight that their leadership abilities couldn’t.

Elysian closed their eyes, took a deep breath, and started. “The reports are that the Earthlings have broken the atmosphere and have entered space. 25 of the battleships responsible for keeping containment have been destroyed, and they are on a direct path for your home.” They took a moment, and then corrected themself. “Our home.”

Lt. Truth shook their head, and continued. “Our mission is clear. Intercept the rockets and destroy them.” The team snapped to a salute, and shouted in unison “Syr, yes syr!” Elysian hadn’t gotten used to them interrupting, so they simply continued. “Expect resistance, though. They’re capable of making wide-area covering fire, and might be accompanied by Lanzers. Earthling Lanzers haven’t been capable of operating outside the upper atmosphere yet, but we need to be prepared for anything.” Another pause as they tried to think of the best way to end the speech. “If any of you die out there, I’ll make you regret it.”

Elysian cringed internally. Oh, that was bad, they thought, but instead of staying to gauge the reaction, the lieutenant turned to board the Type-Selene.

—

The rockets had slowly rendezvoused over the course of the half day, and had now formed a wide net, each a distance from the others equal to the area of plasma blaster coverage. They had reported no interruptions from any Lunarian ships, and were now nearly within firing range of the moon. Nomfundo watched the countdown until the ships were within firing range intently, her gloved hands gripping her Lanzer’s controls in a death grip.

Masihlale phansi scobelelane ngolwaz esinalo

Silekelelane, kumel’ impil’ ibenjalo

It was like her brain twitched, but the helmet stopped her from holding her head as it dissipated. Don’t do this. Not now. She blinked a tear out of her eye, and was blindsided as a plasma blast eradicated the rocket from BIUST.

Her mind flew into overdrive, her fingers tapping out over her controls and her voice echoing out over the other rockets’ frequencies. “What happened? I need a visual on the shooter immediately!” Nothing but confusion from the other rockets as the rocket from the AGEOS LBZ erupted in an emerald bloom, now creating a hole in their net wide enough for a battleship to slip through.

Nomfundoh’s camera finally focuses in on a single ship so far around the moon’s orbit that it was practically behind it, but with enough zoom, she can see a single black Lanzer floating in front of it, holding a colossal plasma cannon wired to its ship. The barrel was clearly warped and burnt, and the fact that the Lunarian Lanzer tossed it aside confirmed her suspicions as a bevy of other ships came up from around the moon.

“ALL LANZERS LAUNCH! SET THE CANNONS TO FIRE AUTOMATICALLY!”

—

Elysian watched intently as their second-in-command, Infinite Wrauth, fired his second plasma bolt, tearing his target in fiery twain. “Excellent shot! A couple more and we can begin the counteroffensive!” Wrauth replied in the negative. “No can do, syr. I’m actually surprised the second shot was so good, the barrel’s warped beyond recognition. We’re going to have to make due.”

The lieutenant froze up. There’s no way more than one squadron could fit into the small safe space they’ve made. It would be them or nobody. Truth turned off the radio, and simply spoke to the Synth-OSi AI. “Cynthia.”

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“Are you holding out on me?”

The computer was silent, until it wasn’t.

“I don’t understand what you mean, Lieutenant.”

“You’re designed to protect me. But we’re going to need to do something that may require sacrifice to protect our people.”

“Lieutenant, I-”

“Cynthia. Are you holding out on me?”

A long pause, but then a small panel on the cockpit seat opened up between Elysian’s shins, recessed and out of the way in such a way to make it impossible to accidentally press.

“Lieutenant. Do not press this button.”

Elysian nodded, glad that his life-long partner finally trusted them, and then activated the comms. “Team, we’re going in alone and slipping past the rockets’ covering fire on my mark. When you see my wings, go.” They then flipped over to the battleships, and gave their command. “Use your longest-range weapons and provide as much cover as you can. We can’t let them get close enough to the surface!”

The comms turn off once more, and Lt. Truth yells out to his mecha. “Activate my reactor!”

—

All of the rockets opened up, their noses turning into massive plasma cannons, their sides opening to arrow loop windows, and their nozzles breaking off to allow the mass-produced Space Lanzers to escape and engage incoming enemies. The Kwazulu rocket’s nose, however, broke open to reveal something wildly different.

It’s a stretch to call it a Lanzer, or even a mecha. It’s more a weapons platform with no noticeable arms or legs and instead a massive nozzle array and plasma cannons. It was also massive, large enough to hold another Lanzer inside of it. Nomfundoh’s explanations to the engineers had made sense to her, because after all, what use do you have in space for legs, or weapons that could be dropped?

She had instantly realized the Lunarians’ plans, as there was nowhere else for the incoming Lanzers to go besides the now open space besides the Kwazulu rocket. The swarm of black Lanzers, nearly invisible against the sparkling ink of outer space flew straight at her, led by the easily recognizable angel shape of the boyish pilot that murdered-

Oh please, oh please

Uma kufeswa, ngicel’ ung'khumbule nam' (Ngibizе ngiyozama nami)

Oh please, oh pleasе

Makujatshulwa ngibize ngijabule nami (Mas'jabule sonke)

Nomfundoh squinted in anger at the interruption. “YOU DON’T GET A SAY IN THIS!” She moves a hand to rip the broken piece of metal from her shoulder, but changes her mind and keeps her attention back on her target. She aims her cannons in a wide spread, making sure that it's as hard as possible for that kid to dodge.

—

The space above the moon lit up with thousands of plasma bolts. Fields of fire erupting from the rockets, slowly easing up as random shots from almost beyond the lunar landscape tore through a select few rockets’ armor. Lanzers met in the few safe spaces, both sides slightly uncomfortable with zero-gravity combat. It’s never clear that the Siyanqoba’s forces would survive, but they didn’t need to. As long as one rocket could fire a deadly plasma bolt onto a Lunarian city, as long as one deadly payload survived intact to impact, Lord Zama’s cruel plan would succeed

The Type-Selene, its iridescent wings covering the black sky, flew directly at the thing that had flown out of one of the rockets. It was… another rocket? But smaller. And does it have… a head?! Is it a Lanzer?! Tubes on its… shoulders… twitched and rotated before they revealed themselves to be plasma cannons. Elysian didn’t even need to react as the machine boosted laterally to dodge them and zoom in closer. Its plasma cannon were mounted on its front, so they just needed to come in from the side or behind and come in close. After all, if it has no hands, then it has no swords, right?

The two of them traded shots as they grew closer, Nomfundoh not even trying to back off. Any other Lanzer would have trouble dodging Nomfundoh’s cannons, and any other Lanzer’s armor wouldn’t have been able to shrug off Elysian’s shots that easily. The two of them were equally matched in a cruel way, but Elysian thought that the fight was over once they flew in closer, cockily opening up all comms. “You didn’t think it’d be that easy to get close to the moon, did you?” They then flew sideways out of the enemy machine’s firing range, fired up its oversized saber, and swung sideways.

Ngicela ningiphathe man hey

Uma nilibangise, kwanhliziyo ngise

Bath’ ubumnand’ abupheli

Ngicela ningiphathe man hey

Elysian Truth broke out into a cold sweat, and hesitated for just a moment. All 8 of the cannons mounted on the machine’s left shoulder split off, revealing to be attached to 2 long arms that reached out to grab the Type-Selene’s sword arm and one of its legs to pin it in place. From inside the Type-Selene’s cockpit, they helplessly watched as the long wings on the side of the enemy machine craned over to their Lanzer’s head, revealing another plasma cannon. The comms opened up from the enemy, revealing a familiar voice.

“I knew the Ulta Lanzer would trick you, murderer.”

As the Ulta Lanzer’s wing cannon slowly charged up, Elysian’s hand swung between their legs and slammed the button as hard as they could, repeatedly mashing it over and over as they begged Cynthia to save them.

“Activating overdrive on the second reactor. Assuming control over Type-Selene.”

Before Elysian could ask what that meant, all of the cockpit’s controls disappeared into the floor and walls, and a large suite of claws, tubes, and miscellany came from the ceiling. Needles pressed themselves into the skin on the lieutenant’s arms, legs, and torso, before two massive spikes slammed down into Truth’s chest and punctured their lungs.

They would scream if a tube hadn’t shoved itself into their trachea.

The pain was excruciating as Elysian’s blood was replaced with burning chargon fuel and their vision was replaced with a kaleidoscope of amethysts and emeralds, and all thought was slowly replaced with agony and the inability to struggle.

Uma nishawa umoya, ningabi nonya makholwa

Woza, woza mngani

Sibong’ impilo kulesi skhathi

Sitshekedule njengamathole

The Ulta Lanzer’s wing cannon erupts in a green plasma flame stretching downwards, seemingly dissolving the Type-Selene. But Nomfundoh is dumb-founded as she realizes that her machine’s left arms are empty of any sort of wreckage. She is then filled with shock and rage as both left arms and the left wing are separated when a vertical plane of light flashes upwards. It wasn’t even recognizable as a Lanzer anymore, just a glowing, vaguely humanoid figure of light.

Nomfundoh angled her cannons in such a way to not hit the thing, but instead try to guide its flight path into one of the continuous coverfire of her rocket, but it didn’t even seem to care. When a plasma shot would seem to hit the Type-Selene, it simply wasn’t there anymore. She had never been more terrified in battle before. All she could do was try to hide her massive mecha behind one of the rockets to give her enough time to reconfigure her secret weapon. This barely afforded her enough time as the glowing monster split the rocket in half with virtually no effort.

Her hands shook as one rapidly tapped on a physical keyboard in front of her, and the other rapidly shook a joystick to dodge the monster as best as she could. Every time she found cover behind a rocket, the rocket ceased to be. Finally, she finished her adjustments, and flew towards the… is it the last rocket? Crap. One last chance. She pointed the Ulta Lanzer’s head, remaining arms, and remaining wing around to face the monster and fired all of her cannons and missiles at once directly at the Type-Selene. As expected, it disappeared completely from view before the shots hit.

But her torso was still pointing forward at the rocket in front of her. Nomfundoh flipped the head around to face the monster between her and the rocket, and fired her torso cannon.

The plasma cannon on her torso stretched its nozzle open, allowing its beam to spread wide in a cone in front of her, guaranteed to catch the Type-Selene in a low-damage burn and push it back into the armor of the remaining rocket. The remaining plasma cannons swung back to focus its fire on its target. The Kaptein screamed in rage, “Die, monster!” as the plasma fire dug further into the rocket, and erupted the three machines in a purple bloom of energy.

Woza, woza mngani (Mhlobo sondela)

Sibong’ impilo kulesi skhathi (Sondela)

—

Nomfundoh breathed exasperatedly as she struggled with the awkward controls of the O.R.B. Lunarians used so many touchscreens, and they were all covered in scribbles that definitely weren’t Roman letters. But the small ship and its two inhabitants were still reaching the end of its journey back to Kwazulu LBZ. The comms lit up a Siyanqoba frequency.

“This is Kapitein Dimba. I’m the last survivor of the mission. But it was successful,” she lied. “Lord Zama promised to meet me, personally.”

There was a long, agonizing pause. But, then, an almost painfully powerful voice came in. “Kapitein Dimba! My girl, my sweet hero of the masses! I will meet you on the landing pad!”

She cut the comms without signing off, and braced herself as the O.R.B. rattled on atmospheric reentry. She turned to the floor of the cockpit to address her companion. “Hey, kid, this thing has heat panels, right?”

Elysian, lying on the floor, held tightly to the chair that Dimba was seated in. They struggled to breath, their punctured lungs barely holding together with Siyanqoba first-aid foam. All they could do was wave their left hand in a “kinda” motion.

“Mm. Good enough, I guess.”

Many minutes later, the O.R.B. closed in on Kwazulu LBZ and its landing pad, which Dimba visually confirmed that Zama was standing on, surrounded by a large group of guards and dignitaries, as he had promised. “Okay, what button do I need to press, now?”

Elysian Truth awkwardly sat up, unable to stand because of the massive burns that had claimed both of their lower legs. They pointed towards a large red panel on the screen without touching it. “Okay, thanks.”

The O.R.B. flew in low, angling its nose at the landing pad without slowing down. A shake, a rattle, and a snap, and the hull and armor of the machine split lengthwise, revealing a plasma cannon. Apparently, Nomfundoh figured, they were added in at some point after the war started, because why would space buoys need guns? She shook the thought from her head as she opened fire, raking violet and green fire across the entirety of the landing pad and a good chunk of the LBZ’s main administration building, doing her best to turn off the cannon before they reached the outskirts.

—

Sitshekedule njengamathole

Ungang’ncishi i-nice life

Somewhere halfway between Kwazulu and the MHETI LBZ of what was once known as Namibia, the former Kapitein Nomfundoh Dimba laid the former Lieutenant Elysian Truth on the sofa of one of her favorite safehouses, and wheeled a wheelchair next to them. “The folks at the local village are friendly folks. A few of them are woodworkers, they’ll get you started on some prosthetics before you can get the fabricators downstairs working.” She started to the garage to take the jeep that she had stashed there and leave them alone, but then she paused and turned back.

She took the burnt and broken collar off of her shoulder, held it in her hand, kissed it gently, and then placed it on Truth’s wheelchair.

Art by https://x.com/b11mech