#Simone Pace

[spilladabalia]

Nous Deux - Toi, moi, nous deux

[milafm2002]

It's Getting Close To Halloween So You Know What Time It Is ...

This is part Two Side A of the Big Fall music blog. In Part One I Discussed Fall Coded Albums And Now For Part Two Here Is A Tracklist Of Fall Coded Songs. You will see some of the bands and artists In Part One, but Part 2 will feature new music From Artists Fimilar And First Ever Features On This Blog. I hope you enjoy Part Two and check out these songs.

So Now Presenting Fall Blog Part 2 Side A Aesthetic Songs For Fall

One More Empty Chair -Blood Red Shoes ( Fire Like This ) 2010

Neon Signs - Suki Waterhouse ( Milk Teeth ) 2022

Possibly Maybe - Bjork ( Post ) 1995

The Sea Is A Good Place To Think Of The Future - Los Campesinos ( Romance Is Boring ) 2009

Tears In The Typing Pool - Broadcast ( Tender Buttons ) 2005

My Plants Are Dead - Blonde Redhead ( Penny Sparkle ) 2010

No Sensitive Man - Haley Bonar ( Last War ) 2014

Starry Eyed - Ellie Goulding ( Lights ) 2010

What Went Down - Foals ( What Went Down ) 2015

Sky Musings - Wolf Alice ( Visions Of A Life ) 2017

Enjoy And Stay Tuned For The Spooky Side B

[thebowerypresents]

Blonde Redhead Come Home to Close Out Tour for New Album at Brooklyn Steel

Blonde Redhead – Brooklyn Steel – November 10, 2023

For all the painters renowned for their mastery of the use of contrasts, not enough bands get the credit they deserve for the same. Blonde Redhead, as their name almost implies, are wizards of contrasting sounds. Their Brooklyn Steel concert on Friday night kicked off with an immediate juxtaposition, taking to the stage playing through some ethereal guitar loops before jumping headfirst into the jagged angular guitars that begin “Falling Man.” It hit like a hard and sudden rain descending out of a misty fog. “Yet I am just a man still learning how to fall,” sings Amedeo Pace with his strained tenor voice punching through. This is followed by (and in contrast to) “Dr. Strangeluv,” with its lush and expansive landscape of sounds, this time filled out by Kazu Makino’s delicately singing as if she were floating above the song. 

There are only three members in Blonde Redhead, but their sound is so much bigger and their songs have so many layers spilling out of them that repeated listens often reveal something new. When played live, these opportunities to get pulled in are everywhere. For me, this hit the hardest during “SW,” with my ears for the first time noticing the brooding, rattling hum of the guitar that undergirds the song. Come the chorus, the refrains of “It’s not” and “I am” bend guitar strings toward Amedeo’s words like gravity.  

Brazilian (and New York City-based) percussionist Mauro Refosco joined the band for the final night of the tour. He was featured on Blonde Redhead’s recently released 10th LP, Sit Down for Dinner, including the hypnotically mesmerizing “Snowman,” which slowly builds in polyrhythms like, dare I say, a rolling snowball. 

“We’re getting forgetful in old age,” said Amedeo, excusing Makino taking a pause to track down a piece of paper before a song. “It’s not old age, I’ve always been like this,” answered the rhythm guitarist. Another thing Makino’s always been is strikingly beautiful, moving along to their songs like they’re waves washing over her. At times Amedo joined her in dancing, his lanky frame extenuated by his white jumpsuit, with the two of them flanking Simone Pace on drums. This is a band that’s long been in lockstep, for twin brothers Simone and Amedeo Pace, likely since birth. 

Their set closed with the shoegazing masterpiece “23,” which blows through with so much force only to end in some scattered guitar whispers and rhythms, the remnants of a tornado of a song that just blew through. —Dan Rickershauser | @D4nRicks

Photos courtesy of Dana Distortion | distortionpix.com

[f4sc1nat0r]

[tokiowitch]

a year late to the party but omg... gorgeous stuff happening here.

[rainingmusic]

Blonde Redhead - Elephant Woman

[heavenbarnes]

I've been wondering for the last two days at LEAST how it'll be if/when[?] Olderbf! Simon's s/o sees 141 in person after they start *ahem* sharing like is it tense or awkward or like is it just totally normal is soap making things weird like I'm dying to know

i LOVE the you’re invested in the finer details about older!bf simon 🫶🏼

see, my original idea about older bf!simon was that he wouldn’t even let the 141 know you existed. man is absolutely obsessed with keeping you safe so it’s a miracle if they ever find about you.

HOWEVER obviously that isn’t the case here, in this reality, reader has met the 141 and likely has to see them again after all the photo sharing!

i actually don’t think it’s awkward at all! that might be me projecting (i’m very hard to embarrass) but i genuinely think the lads view you with this air of almost admiration that- the minute simon walks into the pub with you, they’re all too enamoured to make it awkward.

gaz is off his seat in a second, offering it up to you with a pretty smile (he’s a pretty guy) but still keeping close to your side at the table. also means simon can stand behind you with his chest your back and his arms around you.

johnny’s teasing you, but no more than usual. it’s flirtatious, but he’s been like that from the second he laid eyes on you. he might say a couple off-colour things that earn him a shove from simon but, once again, do we expect any less?

price is a little bolder about it, he’s been watching you from across the table with these half-lidded eyes and every time you wrap your fingers around your glass he’s tracking your every move. you feel warm under his gaze but you do remember him being attentive when you first met.

few drinks between you all, it’ll be as casual as anything. but if the drinks go any later into the night, the night gets any darker, and there’s corners of the pub to hide in? i’m not saying it’s getting awkward but it’s probably not staying friendly.

[giogiostart]

🔥

[milafm2002]

[milafm2002]

Happy Music Friday Everyone!

This Week's Songs Are ...

A Reminder - Radiohead 1997

One More Empty Chair - Blood Red Shoes 2010

The Dress - Blonde Redhead 2007

F***ing In Rhythm & Sorrow - The Sugarcubes 1988

[twixnmix]

Ebony magazine covers from 1963

[luxlier]

idk if I'm gonna post here consistently or not but I know this is where the extra indulgent stuff goes

[thranduilofsmirkwood]

❂𐂷 ⱤꓴƊƸ ꝖꓴⰙƬƸⳜ 𐂷❂

❂𐂷ƬǶƸ ǶⰙƁƁƖƬ & ȴⰙƬⱤ 𐂷❂

[the-real-aku]

Note: Posting because i kinda like it atm and while I'm not happy with it I'm trying-

~~~

"We deserve a good story before we get too fuckin' pissed to walk straight," Johnny whined.

"Couldn't walk straight even if we held your 'and while sober, MacTavish. I got one, but mnot gonna repeat it after this. Got it?" Ghost stared at Gaz and Soap who gave him a mock salute before leaning on closer to their lieutenant.

"Couple years into the start of 141, was just me n' Price, you and Gaz hadn’t even been born yet-  We got sent to some base in Colorado...Colorado or somewhere around there.  It doesn't matter.  We were doing some glorified hide and seek for a training exercise. Easy enough, good at hidin'." Ghost paused, taking another sip of his glass of whiskey. 

"People forget to look up.  Holed myself up in some sturdy tree, held my weight, and kept me out of sight.  Probably too well.  Had groups of hunting parties pass me looking for others.

"Still,  no one ever looked up.  Got a few good hours of peace and fucking quiet up there.  Even had a book with me.  Dime novel or some shit I picked outta the trash.  It was nice for a shit training exercise.  Until the sun started setting, that's when more of the nocturnal beasts came out.

 "So color me surprised when a half-decent buck bursts out of the bush and slams head-first into my tree. Horns don't stick, doesn't care, it backs up and does the same thing. Over and over. I've seen heads splatter, I've done the splattering. I don't understand what it was trying to do because it kept going until brain matter splattered against the tree and an eyeball popped under the pressure.

"Then it stopped.  Not stopped 'cause it died, not just stopped and stood there before sniffing the ground. I had been holding my breath the whole time. Don't know why, everything told me this was wrong and that I needed to shut up and stay still.  But eventually, it stopped sniffin' and twisted its damn fucking broken neck to look up.  It was quiet but clear, not like anything else was moving anymore not even the wind, and whispered "I know you're there", then ran off.  

“I stayed in that tree the whole night. Pissed myself too.  Didn't care. I wasn't coming down or moving unless someone or thing dragged me down.  They found me there in the morning.  Thought I froze to death.

"They had to get Price to get me to come down from my spot.  Wouldn't say a word to them, which didn't help my situation.  They thought I was 'avin an 'episode', went crazy during the training event, and killed something or maybe even someone from the mess they found around my tree. Who was going to believe that I watched the deer do it to itself?  So I kept quiet as Price and the others escorted me back to base.  Never found it.  But no one ever said anything about it seeing as how I was clean of blood."  

Gaz and Soap turned to their Captain, eyes weary and expectant.  Price huffed, shaking his head. "Yeah, I remember. We had searched for this twat almost all night before some private found'em. He thought it was weird, the tree, and looked up to investigate and came face to face with Ghost's blank stare under his hard plate skull mask. We had two sets of pissed pants after that. When Ghost wouldn't talk about why his hiding place was a fucking mess of bone and meat he had mandatory psych evals for the next month."

[reds-skull]

Bringer of Demise - Chapter 2

[FIRST PART] [AO3]

I'll be honest, I wasn't that confident with the first chapter (probably because it's been a while since I sat down to write something) but I like this one much more. The angst is definitely helping lol

Here's chapter 2: Like a House Fire

“Simon-” Soap jumps as the door slams behind him. Ghost grunts, walking further into his room to sit at the desk, reports now laying forgotten. Not that they need them anymore, with Novikov’s arrival.

Soap takes a sit in front of him, the bed creaking when he leans forward to look in Ghost’s dark eyes. “Talk to me, mo chridhe.”

Ghost slides the mask off his face, and throws it on the desk with so much force some papers fly and land behind it. Soap waits as he stares at the wall for a minute or two, lost in whatever dreadful memory the Doctor brought forward.

“Novikov was the one that tested me. When they brought me back from Mexico.” he starts, voice carefully monotone. “Went through regular shit at first. How long I can use Limbo before I have to stop. What happens if someone shoots at it from the outside. See if sound travels, if comms work.”

Soap holds his tongue, ignores the questions that float to his mind about the process. It’s more important for him to listen to Simon.

“Didn’t really have a problem with those. Expected them, really.” Simon shakes his head, bitterness bleeding into his voice, “it started going wrong when Shepherd came into the picture.”

At the mention of that name, Soap’s jaw clenches. General fucking Shepherd, the man behind Graves’ leash. Ran like a coward after his dog died, still off grid even after Laswell got the go-ahead from CIA to start a search for him. Soap remembers the few meetings he was in, how Shepherd would address Ghost. Spoke to him as if Limbo wasn’t tearing itself apart because of his orders.

Ghost never told him much about the bawbag, Soap never asking. Felt wrong, with how little he willingly gives Ghost about his own past.

“What did he do?” he asks, a little hesitant to hear the answer.

“Novikov wasn’t pushing me hard enough, according to him. Because he was afraid of what my powers would do to me or to others, or for a different reason, I didn’t bother finding out. Don’t know if the Doc tried to resist. It doesn’t matter.” Simon lets out a mirthless laugh, “you know the rest.”

Soap nods. “Ye think… he will do it again? Push ye to…”

“I’m not worried about me, Johnny.” He leans closer to Soap, and it dawns on him that Simon’s not as angry as he is terrified, “there’s nothing new Novikov can tell me to use Limbo on that would break it like last time. But you… they never found your limits, have they?”

“... You know they didn’t need to.”

“I don’t think that ever satisfied Novikov, or the higher-ups.” Soap frowns, Simon’s voice lowering to an almost whisper, “I think they were just as tied up in red tape as you.”

He doesn’t respond to that. He doesn’t think he needs to, they both know Simon is right.

Soap’s memories of that time period are… muddy at best. And it wasn’t because of the shot he received to the head, the day he died.

In the weeks following it, Soap felt like everyone that knew what happened there was walking on eggshells around him. Not many knew, they tried to sweep it under the rug immediately to avoid an international incident, but those that did…

When Soap refused to use his powers on field, his Captain was irritated. Said he’d go to the higher-ups, get him written for insubordination.

The very next day, the Captain took him to the side and asked him to tell him. Fuck the higher-ups when it comes to his own personal curiosity, eh?

Soap refused, obviously. The Captain let it go, eventually, but Soap always wondered if he was trying to send him into impossible situations to see just how much destruction he can survive.

“I’m not going to let him do anything to you, love.” Simon’s voice makes him refocus on the present, “Novikov tells you to jump, you ask me how high.”

Soap scoffs fondly, the anger that has bubbled up in his chest subsiding, “they’re gonna write ye up, LT.”

“Don’t care. They won’t boot me out anyway.” he answers smugly, scarred lips quirking up in a way that makes Soap want to explode the rest of the world, if only to keep him safe.

He returns the smile, “sound awfully certain of yerself. Should I ask Price if the power went to yer head?”

Simon huffs, “just the facts, Johnny. Not only I’m legally dead, they wouldn’t want someone like me strolling around civvies in case I go off and send a couple hundred to Limbo.”

“Sometimes I forget just how much off yer heid you are, Simon Riley.”

“Takes one to know one, and all that.” Simon moves to get up, when something pulls at his leg.

A few dark hands started petting at their boots, so gently they didn’t notice. Soap smiles, leaning down to return the favor with his left hand.

“Look, we made yer friends worried.” the hands wrap around his fingers, chasing the little white flames.

Simon shakes his boot, loosening the residents of the void’s hands, “you know that’s not how that works.”

“Well, they react to our emotions, you never know!” he turns back to the hands, “don’t listen to him, he’s just grouchy ‘cause I’m not holdin’ his hand.”

He’s happy to continue playing with Simon’s “friends” until a shrill sound cuts through the air. Soap watches Simon grab his phone from his pocket.

“It’s Rudy.” he taps his phone and sits down next to Soap, “Rodolfo?”

“Fantasma. Is Soap with you?” Rudy greets, voice hurried.

Soap takes Simon’s wrist and brings the phone closer, “aye, what’s wrong?”

“All of our revenants were woken up by our Reapers, I… I assume it happened to yours as well.”

Christ, must be later than midnight in Mexico right now. Getting dragged into your Reaper’s realm in the middle of sleeping… can’t be fun.

“Affirm.” Ghost says, “I assume yours asked about Fate and Lumity?”

“Yes.” there’s someone talking in the background, and Soap realizes it’s Alejandro, giving out orders, “some of our revenants chose Fate. We’re in the process of reprimanding them, but… It’s more important that I tell you what we gathered.”

Simon and Soap share a look. Anything would be helpful at this point.

Rudy continues, “the ones that chose Fate didn’t give us much. Apparently their Reaper just left, only saying they chose right. It is mine that explained the most.”

“You did say your Reaper was chatty…” Simon mutters.

“It is.” Rudy sighs, “my Reaper didn’t get mad when I chose you. It said it was expecting it.”

Rudy’s Reaper… Reaper of Matter… is on Lumity’s side?

“The Reapers are… in a state of disorder.” he pauses, mulling over the words. “... My Reaper said this hasn’t happened since before the age of revenants.”

“Did it say what’s Fate’s goal in all this?” Simon asks.

“No. I don’t think it knows.” Rudy begins talking in Spanish to someone on the other side, far too fast for Soap to understand. “-Jabón y Fantasma?”

They can hear some rustling before Alejandro’s voice comes through, “Hermanos! You landed us in a real shitshow this time around, eh?”

Soap smiles sheepishly, “good teh hear ye, Ale. Sorry about the mess.”

“All good. Well- for now.” Alejandro hums, “I have a feeling that is due to change at any point.”

“Ye said it…”

Rudy turns the phone back to him, as he says, “whatever it is, you can call us. We’ll continue to update you.”

“Appreciated, hermano,” Ghost answers, “same goes for us.”

“Don’t be strangers. We’ll talk later.” Ghost and Soap say their goodbyes as Rudy hangs up.

So the Reapers themselves don’t quite know what Fate is planning… he didn’t think it was possible, but Soap is even more unsettled. Reapers are volatile as it is, though before they could’ve trusted them to not meddle in their “boring human affairs”.

A Reaper even Reapers can’t foresee… how can they prepare against something like that?

Soap eventually returned to his own barrack, long after daylight faded. Sleep evaded him for most of the night, burning moths fluttering around his cot as he tosses and turns, flames occasionally charring his blanket.

When morning finally comes, he finds himself in the revenant training grounds along with Ghost. Anxiousness drips down his spine as they wait for the Doctor and his assistants.

Ghost knocks their boots together, and Soap calms. He’s not going through this alone, unlike any other revenant.

He begins to hope Novikov has simply forgotten about them when the man is late. Unfortunately, he doesn’t. Almost 20 minutes after the tests were supposed to start, the man comes hurrying down the training grounds, the papers in his hands miraculously not flying away in the gentle breeze.

“Sergeant! Lieutenant! I apologize for the delay.” Novikov calls when he gets close enough, somewhat out of breath, “yesterday’s incident had us sifting through reports all night, as you can imagine.”

The Doctor pauses to take another deep breath, and flips through the folder he brought, “as I’m sure you understand, this will not be a standard revenant test. I will not be redoing your basic tests, Lieutenant. As for you, Sergeant…”

Novikov turns his bespectacled grey eyes to him, and gives him a small smile, “I understand that I will not be able to test your limits here, but the records of the Verdansk incident are enough.”

Soap’s back straightens, and he can’t help but growl, “ye know about it?!”

He can count on two hands the amount of living people that know the whole truth behind his Reaping, and about half of them are in the 141.

“Laswell has allowed me access to the files. I’ve known about the incident beforehand, of course, theorized Konchar had-”

“Don’t ye dare say that fuckin’ name.” he snarls, flames flickering within his clenched fists. It doesn’t stop the stream of blurry memories, of melting skin beneath his fingertips-

Soap forcibly exhales, coercing his flames to die down.

Novikov doesn’t seem offended by the interruption. On the contrary, he looks… intrigued.

“I’d like to test the difference between your hands, to start. I have only been made aware of the changes in flame color, and the markings, of course.”

Soap glances at Ghost, who gives him a nod.

“What do ye need me to do, Doctor?”

“This is most intriguing… the flesh of your left hand is cooler than your right, but the flames are considerably warmer…”

Soap feels the ground between his fingers crumble to ash. So far, The tests are quite… boring, if he’s honest.

He’s had his own morbid fascination with his own powers, for a while. Wondering how it compares to other explosive compounds, trying to run the numbers to find the closest approximate. He thought, if he could find an equation, he could control his powers better.

Soap gave up on it soon after. Didn’t have enough data to work with, and generating more meant using his powers, and well…

Novikov lifts his pen, “very good, Sergeant.” steamin’ Jesus, he’s not 5, is he gonna give him a sticker next? “Now, Lieutenant, remove any clothing on your right arm, if you will.”

Ghost, who up until now stood motionless in his best imitation of a statue, stares at Novikov for a long moment, before slowly removing his glove and tucking it into his belt. He steps closer to Soap, rolling his sleeve to reveal pale, scarred skin.

“Now, with your left arm of course, I want you to attempt to explode the Lieutenant’s arm.”

Soap notices the assistant with the heat-sensitive camera aim it at Ghost, “it’s not gonna do anything to him, Doc.”

“Then there shouldn’t be any problem demonstrating it.” Novikov doesn’t look up from his papers. Bawbag.

Ghost offers him his arm silently. Soap knows it won’t do anything to him, they bear marks to prove it.

Soap takes the arm. White flames wrap harmlessly around it. He focuses his powers to his left hand, the air around them distorting.

It feels fundamentally wrong to try and hurt Simon. His breathing picks up, fingers twitching as the flames climb higher and higher.

“-it’s as if they’re trying to reach equilibrium. The flesh cools the flames, the flames heat it in return-”

Ghost doesn’t react, not that Soap can see with his vision tunneling on their joined limbs. The fire burns, searing, scorching, mutilating-

“-You may stop now, Sergeant-”

He can’t hurt him, how could he ever dare hurt him? Why isn’t anyone stopping this?

Like a bystander watching a house fire, Soap is helpless in front of the flames. He can almost smell the bubbling flesh from here, the melting of everything in the face of unending ruin-

“-ohnny. Enough.”

Soap jumps, the world rushing back to his senses. He turns his head shakily, to see Novikov’s gaze boring into him.

“Ah’m not- I can’t-” he mumbles, words barely forming on his lips, “Ghost-”

“You’re alright, Johnny.” Ghost’s smooth voice is steady as ever, but his eyes betray him, “it’s over.”

Novikov affirms, “We got all we needed, Sergeant.”

Ghost lifts his hand towards him, and Soap barely suppresses a flinch as it trails down his bicep. “You’re alright.” he repeats.

Soap nods, feeling like a bampot all at once. Of course Ghost is fine. They already knew this, he told Novikov as much not 10 minutes ago.

Stupid, stupid, fucking stupid. Soap grits his teeth, “what’s next, Doctor?”

Novikov takes a while to answer, and Soap avoids Ghost’s perceptive gaze as they wait, “I have received approval for Limbo, Lieutenant. I’d like to see the changes it went through first-hand.”

“... Understood. We will need to put some distance between us.” Ghost grunts.

The Doctor waves his hand, “naturally. You’re familiar with your limits, I’ll leave it to your judgement.”

Soap feels Ghost urge him to move, and they begin walking.

“Johnny-”

“Aye.” Soap huffs, “sorry, LT.”

“What for?” Ghost hums, “you did nothing wrong.”

He doesn’t answer to that. If Ghost didn’t see his fuck-up, he’d rather not bring it up.

“If you need to stop at any point-”

Maybe he’s easier to read than he thought, “Ah’m solid, Simon.”

“You froze there. Don’t think you can hide it.” or maybe Ghost knows him too well by now.

They come to a stop, facing one another. Soap bites the inside of his cheek, “I’m- I’ll be fine as long as Ah don’t have to repeat that.”

“You won’t.” Ghost assures him, “ready for Limbo?”

If there’s a place to find peace of mind, it’s the void, “aye. Been a while since we paid our friends a visit, hm?”

Ghost chuckles, “only you’d call them that.” He raises his voice, shouting to Novikov, “Limbo out in five!”

The Doctor gives them a thumbs-up, so Ghost closes his eyes.

Entering Limbo never got less jarring. Soap gets used to it faster if he expects it, but the shift from the colorful, lively world to the still void is an odd one.

Still, once he gets accustomed to it, he can’t help but smile. As weird as it is to say, he missed this place.

Limbo’s victims are docile, chasing after bright moths with no sense of urgency. Like shooting stars, they paint the dark skies of Limbo with radiant yellows and oranges.

This might be the only good thing Soap’s powers have ever done.

He catches Ghost staring at him, his eyes a glowing white, “what?” he asks with a small grin.

“Better?”

“Aye.”

“Sergeant!” Novikov shouts, though it sounds muffled as it enters Limbo from the other side, “try to explode something!”

Soap frowns, “is he talkin’ about yer friends?”

Ghost mutters, clearly unhappy with the disturbance, “don’t know.”

“What do you want ‘im to test it on?!” Ghost shouts back.

“Any material will do! I assume you’re standing on something, correct?”

Soap looks down, at the solid black ground. “What is this made of, anyway?”

The way Ghost hums back tells him ‘fuck if I know’. He crouches down, placing both hands on it. The texture is almost like a glass pane, except his fingers can’t get a grip on it no matter how much he tries.

Before he can hesitate, Soap flexes his fingers.

Nothing happens.

“Huh.” he tilts his head, “suppose it makes sense.”

“How so?” Ghost kneels beside him, sliding a finger over the undamaged surface.

“My powers have to come into contact with a material to explode.” Soap shrugs, getting back on his feet, “void’s made of nothing, no?”

“Hm.” Ghost casts another look around Limbo, and blinks.

Soap catches himself before his knees buckle from the rush of color and noise back into the world. Ghost hooks an arm under his shoulder as a precaution, but he assures him he’s stable.

“Absolutely outstanding! This is the first time you couldn’t explode something, is that correct, Sergeant?” Novikov half-jogs to them.

“Uh… Aye?”

The Doctor’s eyes gleam with wonder, “Incredible! If only there were more Revenants of Destruction in this base, I would be able to test if this is a result of a relation between your Reapers, or a consequence of your powers mixing… Alas, this is not the purpose of my visit.” 

Novikov’s assistants are absorbed with the testing equipment they brought, some looking like set pieces of a low budget sci-fi movie to Soap. He’d love to nick one to take apart, but the shite’s probably so delicate even his fingertips would burn and destroy them.

“Now, for the next test, I’d like you to-” a shrill noise cuts Novikov off, and Ghost pulls out his phone.

Soap pouts when Ghost answers. Why does no one ever call him?

“Affirm. We’ll be there in fifteen.” Ghost ends the call, “we need to go to a meeting with Laswell.”

Novikov’s eyes dim, “ah, I see… I suppose we can continue this afterwards.”

“You’re invited too, Doctor.” Ghost grunts, making both Soap and Novikov swing around in surprise.

When Laswell finally shows up on screen, she seems different from what Soap remembered.

Dark eye bags, pale, hair more grey in some places. He almost didn’t recognize her, and looking around the room tells him the rest of the team thinks the same.

The rest, except Price, “how are you, Kate?”

Laswell sighs, more hair falling off her tight bun. “Let’s get to work, John.”

As she brings up several images on screen, Price reports in their mind, “someone attacked Laswell and her wife in their home two months ago. She got off with minor injuries, but her wife… her concussion was severe enough that she barely talks most days.”

“Did they catch the fucker that did it?” Soap thinks back. If they didn’t, he’d gladly volunteer to put the bastard six feet under. He owes Laswell that much.

Price stops him from continuing to plan a revenge, “Kate killed him, son. She’s trained for field work, an everyday burglar doesn’t stand a chance against her. Now focus up.”

Soap huffs, “yes sir.”

“-we found signs of Shepherd’s work around Urzikstan. Supposedly, he’s working with one of the resistance groups there.” blurry satellite images pop up on screen, convoys and remote buildings hidden between green hills.

Gaz frowns, “either he suddenly grew a moral compass, or there’s a catch.”

Laswell nods, “it’s possible it’s a false lead, but with recent clashes between Urzik forces and the Russians, I’d like you to personally investigate it.”

“We’ll get it done, Laswell.” Price says, his authoritative voice on full blast.

“No one I trust more than you.” Laswell smiles, in a way Soap has never seen. “Now, obviously as you all are grounded, I wouldn’t just send you on what could potentially lead to nothing…”

She begins talking to Novikov, “we’re working on tracking the missing revenants Graves and Shepherd trafficked.”

The Doctor nods, adjusting the frankly huge glasses on his nose bridge, “many of them belong to rarer kinds of Reapers. If they were to fall into the wrong hands…”

“We can’t allow that to happen.” Ghost finishes sternly.

“Commander Karim has been working to find them, but there’s so much she can do while also fending off Russians.” the screen switches to a compilation of names and passport photos, each listing both a date of birth and Reaping. “This is your official reason to be sent to Urzikstan, boys. Whatever intel Graves has left behind him regarding the revenants’ location, we need it.”

“When are we up?” Price asks.

“1600.”

Gaz whistles, “brass’ knickers are all twisted up, huh.”

“Miss Laswell, if I may.” Novikov pipes up, “I have yet to finish the renewed revenant test of Sergeant MacTavish and Lieutenant Ghost. I will not be able to give you an accurate recommendation before that.”

The fuck’s he talking about?

“I understand, Doctor, but it’s out of my control.” Laswell exhales, “this is why I invited you to this meeting. Based on what you do know, what is your verdict?”

The entire room swivels to stare at the Doctor. Novikov scrambles to flip through the papers in his hands, before speaking with an air of defeat.

“Considering my current understanding of Lumity, and the state of Sergeant MacTavish and Lieutenant Ghost… I recommend that until further testing, they should be separated as much as possible on field, if their powers are to be used.”

… What?

[gavramous]

i know ghost's actor said that ghost listens to fucking classical music of all genres (idk, maybe i'm just not cool enough to understand), but in my heart of hearts he's a grunge/metalhead who has a weird relationship with being a grunge/metalhead.

there's periods of time which can last for weeks (but usually last for months) where he doesn't listen to his music at all, because the sound remind him too much of who he was and what he went through. the thought of trying to find new music to listen to seems like an irritating task, though; a task that would only leave him frustrated with himself for letting this be an issue in the first place. of course, he does understand why it is an issue: it's association. he, on his bad days, has trouble disconnecting the music from his father. but it's also music that he likes, and on his good days enjoys listening to. these oscillating moods irritate him to no end, and he doesn't see a clear conclusion for them.

- - -

ghosts and gaz are in the kitchen, sharing each other's company and the last dregs of communal sugar in their tea, and they're talking about music. gaz is explaining what makes him so passionate. it turns out to be because of his father and his zeal for music of all genres. he explains how there was always music on in his house growing up; they always had a cd or a vinyl or a casette playing, and it was always something new, something unlike what they had listened to the week before.

ghost listens intently to gaz. he enjoys hearing about his normal childhood and his positive relationship with music. he enjoys hearing about his not perfect (in gaz's words), but loving family. he asks gaz what the weirdest album his father got obsessed with was, what genres his siblings enjoyed, gaz's favourite song, and gaz answers all his questions happily.

eventually, gaz asks ghost about his relationship with music, and it's ghost's turn to open up and sour the good conversation.

ghost explains that it can be a bit... tense sometimes. his father had a huge impact on his taste, and unfortunately that means some of the time he has trouble listening to his music without sordid feelings arising. ghost tells gaz how he's unwilling to try and find anything different, as it would just overwhelm him, so he makes do. he tacks it off with "it's just music. not the end of the world." that is, in his humble opinion, an acceptably casual (but also not too undermining) way of ending his answer.

apparently not to gaz. he looks at ghost seriously for a beat, then says, "i could always recommend you some music."

ghost thinks on this for a bit. where's the harm? gaz has good music taste. the worst that could happen is a deflated ego on gaz's part if ghost happens to not enjoy his recommendations. gaz might take that as a challenge, though, and spend a lot more effort trying to find something ghost enjoys. the thought of gaz putting in so much effort for him bothers ghost, but ghost also knows that gaz wouldn't offer to do something he doesn't want to do. gaz would probably also get a huge kick out of reccomending something to ghost that he'd end up liking.

"why not," ghost says.

gaz's face lights up, and he asks, "what type of music do you wan't to try out?"

ghost furrows his brow. he hadn't thought about it in that much depth. he just knows that sometimes he wants out. he guesses that something soft would suffice. something he can put on and not have to fight to listen to; something that carries him. but not something too light and airy. something that's grounded. he tells this to gaz, slightly embarrassed with his wording, but gaz tells him that's a perfect description, and he already has an album in mind for ghost to check out. gaz sends him a text with the album linked and says he will look for some other recommendations for him. ghost thanks him, and their conversation continues, and eventually moves onto something else.

- - -

it's a week later that ghost finally has time to sit down and do nothing for more than 5 minutes. he's relaxing in his room, and he remembers the link for the album gaz sent him. the message is still sitting unseen in his inbox, and he decides that there's no better time to give it a listen.

he grabs his shitty earphones from his desk and lays on his bed, opening up the album and starting it.

it starts off slow, but it's strong and sure of itself. it's flowy, and if he's honest, ghost can't really tell when one song ends and another starts. the lyrics are there in random intervals, and they're much softer than the sound of the music itself, but the voice that sings them is strong. it's obvious the focus is on the instrumental, and ghost apprciates that. it allows him to relax fully.

this is exactly what he has wanted.

he listens to the whole album and lays there after it finishes. he sends gaz a text, thanking him and letting him know it's a wonderful recommendation.

ghost still enjoys the music he's grown up with. but gaz has helped him more than he can know. he has helped give him options for the days he struggles with, and that means so much to ghost.