#Yorkshire Metal

[psitrend]

Ante-Inferno Discusses New Album Death's Soliloquy

Ante-Inferno Returns With Atmospheric Black Metal Meditation Death’s Soliloquy North Yorkshire’s black metal band Ante-Inferno released their third album, Death’s Soliloquy, on November 22, 2024, via Vendetta Records. The album immerses listeners in a grim exploration of death and psychological torment, drawing from black metal’s aggressive roots while incorporating atmospheric elements to evoke…

[iamdangerace]

Daisy Chainsaw, Lovely Ugly Brutal World from Eleventeen (1992).

I've got a new dress with large breasts and I look funny in it . My beautiful boy has brown eyes. And we both smell immensley. We live in our dreams. He heals himself with open arms and now he bashes his head again and again on my bed, and on my knees. He's an odd boy. Lucky boy. Makes big noise with big bottle. And crazy lovely ugly cruel world. Lovely ugly cruel world. Lovely ugly cruel world. I wear a nice blue hat just to keep in with swing of things. And I go to church young. You go to church young. And church filled my face. Hey, hey. We're in the movies says I. I see a pile of soot On my head. I see a pile of soot.

[thisnoise]

[mattgrayyes]

Currently on repeat, two new albums that are absolute bangers:

Bring Me The Horizon - POST HUMAN: NeX GEn

While She Sleeps - Self Hell

Both released within a few weeks of each other. Both bands from Sheffield.

YORKSHIRE! YORKSHIRE! YORKSHIRE!

[morrisoxide]

Happy Yorkshire Day!

Saxon - Strong Arm of the Law

[breedsblood]

Bring Me The Horizon - Shadow Moses - Live Streaming Reactions with Songs & Thongs

Full Video Click Link

https://rumble.com/v2yf1hf-bring-me-the-horizon-shadow-moses-live-streaming-reactions-w-songs-and-thon.html?mref=1t2sy0&mc=e0pra

[grungeincluded]

GODETH|THE KEY CLUB|20/10/2023

© Sintija Brence @37fotosb

Grunge Included | @37fotosb | Linktree

[sheltiechicago]

“Unearthed Bronze Eroded Melpomene” (2021). 

Metallic Crystals Sprout from Daniel Arsham’s Eroded Sculptures That Warp the Passage of Time

Six of Daniel Arsham’s eroded sculptures are scattered across Yorkshire Sculpture Park as part of a spacious outdoor exhibition that explores the inevitability of decay. Referencing both pop culture and art history, Relics in the Landscape features massive works of patinaed bronze embedded with patches of metallic, crystal-esque forms.

All images by Anthony Devlin

“Bronze Eroded Venus of Arles” (2022)

“Bronze Eroded Astronaut” (2022)

Detail of “Unearthed Bronze Eroded Melpomene” (2021)

[wyrdwordsandeffigieshaunt]

A Conversation With Reaper Agency UK About Fortress Festival

My involvement in the UKBM scene has been sporadic at best over the past however many years. But it warms this tattered heart of mine to know my home county of North Yorkshire is being darkened with sell-out shows and festivals featuring some of the very best black metal offerings.  It’s been a while since I’ve interviewed anyone for anything, but the opportunity for a chat with Reaper Agency…

[wyrdwordsandeffigies]

A Conversation With Reaper Agency UK About Fortress Festival

My involvement in the UKBM scene has been sporadic at best over the past however many years. But it warms this tattered heart of mine to know my home county of North Yorkshire is being darkened with sell-out shows and festivals featuring some of the very best black metal offerings.  It’s been a while since I’ve interviewed anyone for anything, but the opportunity for a chat with Reaper Agency…

[memories-of-ancients]

The Middleham Jewel, a gold and sapphire pendant discovered by a metal detectorist near Middleham Castle in England in 1985. Dated to around 1460.

from The Yorkshire Museum

[kordeliiius]

A Cut From Every Cloth

Series of vintage photo mockups to commemorate Tarsier Studios turning 20 this year, featuring the main members of their pantheon in cultural clothing

Outfit descriptions and references below

Little Nightmares

Six - Japanese hakama, haori, and hair ornaments Mono - Swedish Dalarna suit Runaway - Embroidered Baju Melayu with headwrap

LittleBigPlanet Vita and Tearaway Unfolded

Sunshine - 19th-century Yorkshire dress with bonnet and lace shawl Atoi - Scottish tartan kilt and flat cap Sean - Regency-era suit with cybernetic motifs Flounder - Ringmaster uniform with Russian punk rock motifs Marianne - French folk dress with gothic accessories Otis - Appalachian denim overalls with decorative trim

The Stretchers, Statik, and Fists of Plastic

Red medic - Mexican serape wrap and sombrero Blue medic - Zoot suit with fedora and metallic accessories Dr. Ingen - Victorian pinstripe suit Hero - Hainanese bamboo dance costume

The City of Metronome

Ten - Irish-inspired coordination with walking hat and Galway boots New - Bai and Hmong Hoa-inspired outfit with traditional headdress and Hong Kong embroidery

[thisnoise]

[literaryvein-reblogs]

A Writer's Recipes George Orwell

Recipes (Christmas Pudding; Orange Marmalade; Plum Cake; Treacle Tart; Welsh Rarebit; Yorkshire Pudding)

Excerpts from the article, "British Cookery" commissioned by the British Council in 1946 but was unpublished

CHRISTMAS PUDDING

Ingredients:

1 lb each of currants, sultanas & raisins 2 ounces sweet almonds 1 ounces bitter almonds 4 ounces mixed peel ½ lb brown sugar ½ lb flour ¼ lb breadcrumbs ½ teaspoonful salt ½ teaspoonful grated nutmeg ¼ teaspoonful powdered cinnamon 6 ounces suet The rind and juice of 1 lemon 5 eggs A little milk 1/8 of a pint of brandy, or a little beer

Method. Wash the fruit. Chop the suet, shred and chop the peel, stone and chop the raisins, blanch and chop the almonds. Prepare the breadcrumbs. Sift the spices and salt into the flour. Mix all the dry ingredients into a basin. Heat the eggs, mix them with the lemon juice and the other liquids. Add to the dry ingredients and stir well. If the mixture is too stiff, add a little more milk. Allow the mixture to stand for a few hours in a covered basin. Then mix well again and place in well-greased basins of about 8 inches diameter. Cover with rounds of greased paper. Then tie the tops of the basins over the floured cloths if the puddings are to be boiled, or with thick greased paper if they are to be steamed. Boil or steam for 5 or 6 hours. On the day when the pudding is to be eaten, re-heat it by steaming it for 3 hours. When serving, pour a large spoonful of warm brandy over it and set fire to it.

In Britain it is usual to mix into each pudding one or two small coins, tiny china dolls or silver charms which are supposed to bring luck.

ORANGE MARMALADE (handwritten note – ‘Bad recipe!’ –‘too much sugar and water’)

Ingredients:

2 seville oranges 2 sweet oranges (no) 2 lemons (no) 8 lbs of preserving sugar 8 pints of water

Method. Wash and dry the fruit. Halve them and squeeze out the juice. Remove some of the pith, then shred the fruit finely. Tie the pips in a muslin bag. Put the strained juice, rind and pips into the water and soak for 48 hours. Place in a large pan and simmer for 1 1/2 hours until the rind is tender. Leave to stand overnight, then add the sugar and let it dissolve before bringing to the boil. Boil rapidly until a little of the mixture will set into a jelly when placed on a cold plate. Pour into jars which have been heated beforehand, and cover with paper covers.

PLUM CAKE

Ingredients:

¾ 1b butter ½ 1b sugar 4 eggs ¾ 1b flour ¼ lb crystallised cherries ¼ Ib raisins ¼ lb sultanas ¼ lb chopped almonds ¼ lb mixed candied peel The grated rind of 1 lemon and 1 orange ½ teaspoonful of mixed spice A pinch of salt 1 glass brandy

Method. Beat the butter and sugar to a cream; add each egg separately and beat until the mixture is stiff and uniform. Sift the flour with the mixed spice and the salt, stir well into the creamed mixture, add the raisins (stoned beforehand), the cherries cut in halves, and the sultanas, the candied peel cut into small pieces, the grated lemon and orange rind, add the brandy. Mix thoroughly, put into a round tin lined with greased paper, put into a hot oven for 10 to 15 minutes, then reduce the heat and bake slowly for 3 ½ hours.

TREACLE TART

Ingredients:

12 ounces short crust pastry Golden syrup 2 ounces breadcrumbs A pinch of ginger or a little lemon juice

Method. Make the pastry crust in the proportion of eight ounces of flour to five ounces of butter, with a pinch of salt, and mix with cold water. Line a flat metal dish with the pastry. Cover with a layer of bread crumbs, then pour in the golden syrup. Sprinkle lemon juice or ginger over the syrup and cover with the remainder of the crumbs. Bake for 30 minutes in a hot oven.

WELSH RAREBIT

Ingredients:

1 ounce butter 4 ounces cheese (coarsely grated) 1 tablespoonful milk or beer ½ teaspoonful made mustard Pepper and salt

Method. Melt the butter in a saucepan. Add the milk, salt, mustard and cheese. Heat and stir until the cheese has melted. Pour on to slices of hot buttered toast which have been prepared beforehand. Serve immediately.

YORKSHIRE PUDDING

Ingredients:

4 ounces flour 1 or 2 eggs ½ teaspoonful salt ½ pint milk (or milk and water)

Method. Put the flour into a basin with the salt. Make a well in the centre, break in the eggs; beat well, adding the milk to make a think batter; allow this to stand for 2 hours. Melt some dripping in a baking-tin and when quite hot pour in the batter. Make for half an hour in a hot oven.

More: George Orwell

[nikoisme]

i live in the uk. in some parts of the uk tap water tastes like metal. where i live however in yorkshire. tap water tastes like maybe the gods did love humans. i love my home tap water. sometimes i take a couple bottles of home tap water to a place with inferior tap water. this feels relevant to you

You're right, it is relevant. I also tend to bring my own tap water with me to places i know have different tap water

[katyawriteswhump]

the freak in the penthouse, epilogue 1/2

E-rated (for sexual content), accidental millionaire eddie/sex-worker steve. On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 6.2 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :) On AO3

Chapter 17: Epilogue (part 1)

One year later

Eddie strode across the lobby of the Beverly Hills Yorkshire.

He slid his blaring Walkman headphones from his ears—savoring the delectable mutterings of high-and-mighty folks’ having their feathers ruffled by his mere presence—and slammed his credit card down on the reception desk. He slammed its hapless occupant with the mega-watt grin that’d studded his life more regularly this year than the last.

His fiendish gurning was set off to perfection by rocker hair that was ‘so last decade,’ an Exodus t-shirt featuring the band performing cannibalism; and jeans with a rip up his left thigh that artfully allowed the cool air to kiss through his underpants to his butt-cheek.

“Room for a little one, Sweetheart?” That brought a raspberry blush to the male receptionist’s cheeks. “Penthouse suite would be a blast.”

“Uh… right. Yes, of course. Let me see what we have available, Sir.” The guy eyeballed the card nervously, although, frankly, Eddie’s nerves were kicking off too. This had seemed like a hilarious jape last night, at least to Eddie, if only to make the forced-conformity piggies around him wriggle and squeal…

…and to get a bad day off to an unsettling start for one particular douchebag who needed bringing down a billion pegs or so.

The receptionist had wandered into the back office, and then… Eddie rubbed his sweaty palms together, and mumbled, “Showtime.”

Head concierge, Larry Kline, emerged from behind the scenes. Eddie detected some decidedly pinched lines at the edges of Kline’s oily smile.

I know why you’re sweating. You’ve been summoned to an ‘extraordinary’ meeting of the board of shareholders who own this hotel.

Unlike me, you don’t have the faintest clue as to why.

“Mister Munson.” Each syllable was a stabbing ice-pick. “I’m afraid the Penthouse Suite is occupied. In fact, we are fully booked.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire!” sang Eddie. Robin had already checked for him.

Kline pressed two white-knuckled fists to the counter, dropping his voice to a snakey hiss. “You’ve got a damn cheek, coming here, after you assaulted another guest.”

“Those charges were dropped, man,” announced Eddie, loud and theatrical. “I think you’ll find the lying son-of-a-bitch who made those accusations is now in jail. Then again, if this hotel ONLY WELCOMES JAILBIRDS then I’ll be on my merry—"

“Get out!” Kline jabbed a finger toward the revolving door. “Get out before I summon the police!”

“Cops, huh?” Pretty much everybody in the lobby was now gawking at them, and the lyrics of ‘I hate everything about you,’ by Ugly Kid Joe radiated tinnily from Eddie’s headphones. The snark-fest song wasn’t a favorite or the most subtle choice. Kline would never have appreciated the depths of any true thrash metal track. Either way, Klein was enjoying the show a lot less than Eddie. And Eddie was only the warm-up act. “Call ’em if you want, Sweetpea. I’ll wait for my room-key, or for the cops to come and arrest me for…” He drummed his fingers on his lower lip. “What exactly?”

“I should think rifling through your pockets for illegal substances would reap dividends,” seethed Kline. “We had to fumigate that suite after you left.”

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that, dude. I quit my entire spectrum of smokey substances over a year ago.”

Eddie blew Kline a kiss then was pretty sure he detected steam hissing from the concierge’s ears.

The receptionist cleared his throat. “Mr Kline? The, uh, board of shareholders are waiting.”

Eddie didn’t miss a beat. As soon as Kline disappeared, tugging at his neckerchief, Eddie skedaddled to the nearest service corridor, where Robin was waiting for him.

“Is he okay?” asked Eddie.

“Yeah, I think so. He’s all set.”

She hooked her arm through his and tugged him through a small door. At first impression, they seemed to have entered a cramped space, almost totally filled by a table of used coffee-cups and leftover and half-eaten pastries. Then, as the hum of conversation rose in his ears again, he realized they were behind a curtain at the catering section of a huge conference room.

Robin peeped around the curtain. Eddie held back, fists curling so tight his rings and nails gouged his palms.

Steve had gone through a lot in this past year. Too much. He’d stood up in court, faced the most brutal of interrogations. With the help of other abuse victims, who Suzie’s legal team had traced and supported, he’d helped dump a whole bunch of nasty pieces of shit in jail. It’d been impossible to keep his name out of the press completely. On the other hand, the exact nature of the financial handouts to the Harrington heir—following early victories in his ongoing multi-million-dollar lawsuit against his parents’ lawyer, Martin Brenner—had been kept more or less under wraps.

In the final months before Brenner had been arrested on charges of fraud and sex trafficking, he’d purchased shares in the Beverly Hills Yorkshire. It had been why his current jailbird buddy, Dickchester, had switched hotels and had been allowed to treat the staff like dirt. Robin had known that at the time, even though she’d had no clue that these were Steve’s abusers. Now, the vast majority of Brenner’s assets were in the process of being transferred to Steve.

Eddie sucked a swift breath into his leaden lungs and peeped around the curtain.

The room was bigger than his and Steve’s entire apartment—and for LA, theirs wasn’t exactly a broom cupboard. On the other hand, the illusion of space was magnified by the small number of shareholders—six men and two women, all pushing retirement age. A little apart sat Vickie, the hotel’s newly recruited business manager. And, at the far end, a guy barely out of his teens sat at the head of the vast table.

Steve was rocking the power vibes. He’d paired his ray-bans with an Armani suit—Eddie reluctantly conceded his boyfriend made even establishment bling hot—countered by the pair of Nike Airs he’d gotten planted on the table. His hair was so perfectly groomed that Eddie fought an urge to run out and ruffle it.

Yeah, Steve had nailed the act. Apart from, perhaps, the arms he’d gotten wrapped tight and defensively around his middle.

Eddie’s own hand clamped to his stomach. He was so nervous, suddenly, he felt sick. “Should we—”

“Ssssh!” Robin pressed a finger over her lips.

Kline had entered at the far end of the conference room. Silence reared up. “To what do I owe this honor?” he smarmed. “Should I take a seat?”

“No,” said Steve, tipping back on his chair. He nodded to an older lady, sporting the archetypical blue rinse, twinset and pearls, who sat to his left. “Vera? Would you do the honors?”

She stood up: “Mister Kline, a multitude of instances of gross misconduct have been brought to our attention. It is the unanimous decision of the shareholders that you should be dismissed today. With immediate severance of all pay.”

“But… but…” Kline’s hands flapped wildly before clapping together in a prayer: “Ladies, Gentleman. I am sure this is a trifle—a misunderstanding that can be easily cleared up. Shouldn’t I at least know what these accusations of misconduct are? Who is making them against me?”

“All those questions can be answered by our new majority shareholder,” said Vera. “Mr H—”

“Thanks, Vera,” said Steve, cutting her off with a breezy wave. He changed the cross of his ankles on the table. “Kline, you’re a bully and a liar. You’re also one hundred percent guilty of physically assaulting at least one member of staff in this shith… uh, I mean, in this fine institution. I’m happy to testify to that, but I’m sick of court cases. I want this to be over.”

Kline’s eyes stretched wide. Robin grabbed Eddie’s hand, finding it as clammy as his own. Had Kline figured it out yet?

Steve raised his sunglasses to nail Kline with a death-ray glare. “You’re fired, asshole.”

“You?” squeaked Kline.

“Yeah, it’s me. Let’s recap for your jumped-up little pea-brain. Treating me like shit? Treating anybody like shit, just because you can get away with it?” As the former chief concierge opened and shut his mouth like a beached fish, Steve smirked, apparently totally at ease now: “Big mistake. Big. Huge.”

…

Steve let Vera bark the final orders: “Clear your desk, Kline. You have five minutes to get out, before security will kick you into the gutter where you belong.”

Steve’s heart pounded against his ribs.  Adrenaline tore through his veins. He watched Kline scuttle from the room like the cockroach he was, and then unleashed what felt like the longest, most heartfelt sigh of his life. He slid his sneakers down from the table and righted his chair with a loud clack.

The entire board’s attention swerved back onto him. For the briefest moment, he’d felt like there should be triumphant music swelling in the background. Now, there was simply an eerily reverberating silence.

“Mister Chairman?” said Vera, with a grandmotherly smile. “Shall we proceed with the rest of the day’s business?”

Steve recalled the list of agenda items, as long as his arm. He’d not even started to read it. Every ounce of his willpower had been dead set on getting even with Kline. Now, his mind fell disarmingly blank. And his mouth flapped off before he could stop it: “Absolutely. I’ll, um… Can we take a brief raincheck? I need to hand you over to the new majority shareholder and chairwoman of the board, Robin Buckley.”

A small shriek sounded from behind the catering screen. It was Steve’s turn to scuttle, as he sped to join his friends. He didn’t even have time to hug Eddie before Robin got right in his face:

“What the fuckety fuck, Dingus? I told you—I don’t even want to be promoted yet. Doreen deserved to be the new head of housekeeping. I’m not ready to be anything other than a sous chef!”

“That’s why this makes perfect sense.” It had been a spur of the moment decision, born basically of panic. Still, Robin’s wrath aside, he honestly believed it didn’t totally suck: “You’re smart. You could skim those minutes in seconds. Plus, who better to make decisions about the running of the hotel than somebody who actually works here? Somebody who will make sure nobody is ever treated like dirt again. Besides, these meetings are quarterly. Shouldn’t cramp your style, huh?”

“I agree with Alex P Keaton here,” said Eddie, hooking an arm around Steve, who gratefully sagged into him. “You are literally Frodo with the ring, Robin.”

“Oh God, not the nerdy ring book.” Occasionally, Steve missed the times when these two were at each other’s throats, rather than uber-geek best buds. He pinched between his eyes against the start of a tension and caffeine headache. Also, to evade Robin’s beyond death-ray glare.

“Okay, maybe you’re more Eowyn in war-cry mode,” Eddie conceded. “But the metaphor’s not so lousy. Power is best wielded by those who crave it the least.”

Steve peeped up. Robin had plowed eight shaky fingers into her hair, which was an uncharacteristic violation of hygiene standards. “Aaaargh! My stomach is a gordian knot right now, Steve!”

He was starting to feel really bad: “I don’t know what that is, but I’m pretty sure my stomach was in one too when I said what I did. Look, I’m sorry, but… please, Robin? Honestly, I can’t think of anybody more fitted for the job. I can have the shares transferred into your name today.” He took off his ray-bans, hooked them on her nose. “These totally come with the role. Tho’ promise me you’ll take them off when you’re making eyes at the new business manager. I swear she’s making them back at you.”

“Ssssssh,” hissed Robin, though the edges of her lips ruffled toward a smile.

“You’ll do it?”

She harrumphed loudly. Concealed beneath the shades, he was pretty damn sure she rolled her eyes at him.

“Next time, Dingus, a few minutes notice would be polite. Oh, and… there’s gonna be a few changes around here, starting right now.”

She grabbed a croissant, took a hefty bite. She chewed, swallowed, dabbed nutella from the edge of her lips, then swished aside the curtain. Her hands planted on her hips, she confronted the board: “Is it really so dreadful to watch somebody pouring your coffee?”

Steve and Eddie beat a hasty retreat to the corridor. “Okay, why am I starting to worry about absolute power corrupting absolutely?” Eddie moved a step behind Steve to give him a backrub.

“How long till she’s calling them shit-birds? We should start a sweepstake. Oh God, yeah, Eddie… that feels amazing.”

They paused in their progress, while Eddie eased a little more of Steve’s tension from him, and Steve leaned into him. Post adrenaline crash, he was starting to feel pretty tired. It was a few blissful moments before he turned back to face Eddie. Who’d plopped a bellhop hat on his head.

“What the fuck?” said Steve.

“Does it suit me, Babe?” Eddie touched his face and fluttered those long dark lashes.

“No! It looks Halloween costume levels of ridiculous on you.”

“Just because I don’t wear it as well as you did.” Eddie pouted, adorably fake-sad, then: “What do you wanna do now, Stevie?”

Melt into your arms. Stare into your eyes till it gets kinda creepy. Make love for days.

He opted for an equally honest answer, one that was bubbling-cheese-on-cheesy-toast levels of cheesy: “I want to be with you. Forever, pretty much, and… I dunno.” He nibbled his lower lip, unsure about this next part: “I take it you didn’t snag the key to the penthouse?”

“No. Don’t reckon there’s gonna be a problem, though. You wanna go up? I know you miss that plunge bath. I could…” Eddie slung both arms around Steve’s neck and waggled his brows. “Pretty sure I owe you an aquatic blowjob.”

“I guess.” Steve laughed. Nevertheless, behind Eddie’s goofing around, he sensed darker shadows shifting. Eddie had had one recurring nightmare this past year, and it was for sure to do with what he’d witnessed when Steve chained himself to the pillar in the penthouse. Steve still barely remembered having the flashbacks about his abuse at the hands of Godchester and the others. His shrink had helped him begin, slowly, to come to terms with what had happened to him. However, there were some ghosts best left in the past.

He sure as hell didn’t want to raise those ghosts for Eddie. They had become Eddie’s nightmares almost as much as his own, and Eddie had his own demons to battle too. Slowly, painfully, his agoraphobia had gotten better, though he was still on baseline anxiety meds.

Steve shook his head. “Nah, I don’t wanna go there again. I thought I did, earlier. I mean, it is where we fell in love, but… It’s not who we are any more. I guess it never was. Anyhow, next summer we’ll have that pool ready at our place up in Oregon.” They’d bought a house on the same block as Wayne’s. “Aaaand we’ll have the jacuzzi hot tub, so…”

“Not waiting till next Summer to blow you, my Princess.”  Eddie flung open the door into the busy lobby. He bowed low, like a knight of old, for Steve to pass through. “Let’s go home.”

...

The end on AO3 The end on tumblr

If you have stuck with me this far, thank you so very much <3

perma-tag for the best inspiration friend ever: @wheneverfeasible

Thank you for reading. Likes, reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕

On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 6.2 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :)

On AO3 All my ST stuff on AO3