#and no you’re not Vanum

[starwingsgazer955]

BOOK 6 SPOILERS!!

I’m posting about mystery airhead delusion man! I can’t keep my mouth shut for people who also have seen him or want to see him. Don’t read the tags if you don’t want his name.

Alright, big reveal! For those who haven’t seen him!

His name (likely title like the Obscurus) is Renatus and he’s proof that someone working on this game loves soft boy looking villains.

That’s him on Lou’s book 2 preview page.

As a Lou fan, I hate him for hurting my boy, but at the same time…

I like Vanans ok-

A few little fanarts

[atomsminecraft]

It would be really cool if Tristatis has a reincarnation like Vane and Vanum

I would imagine she would likely be I hiding or something

Oh god imagine if Iritium got her

Let’s not think about that right now

MC finds her and just actually adopts her

“You’re my child now” “Ok”

MC now has four children

Robin, Shifah, Christoph, and Tristatis’s reincarnation

Wait is Dia her reincarnation

I don’t think he is

He’s just her descendent

[onedayimgonnasnap]

What’s wrong with Lou :<

You really want to know?

He built like the marshmallow man from Ghost Busters

He’s racist to his own race 🤨

Bro looks like the secret love child of Simeon and Solomon.

Bro dead ass at the end of the day doesn’t wash his hands because he only uses magic to go about his life

I bet he doesn’t even wash his ass.

Bro smells like 50 pounds of retirement home

Dude is a hypocrite because he be cockblocking everyone at the end of the epilogue but I know damn well he’s playing favorites on who gets pussy 💀I know damn well in his own epilogue he makes exceptions for himself

He built like a Catholic priest who steals from the church donations to make a living.

In a event he once brought Mc as a date to church-

He has them old lady granny glasses. He looks like he’s about huff and puff and blow my house down then eat my grandma.

He’s older than Jay. He’s in his Jurassic park era

His creepy ass be looking though the crystal ball like he wants to be the security guard from 5 nights at Freddy.

I like to imagine when he’s having a Vanum flashback he stops and his eyes roll in the back of his head as he falls on his knees like a Wednesday type of thing.

If you’re ever on a road trip with this son of a bitch, he would ask you to play a play list but the moment the music hits its the “I AM A CHILD OF GOD”- playing on speaker on the radio.

Mf has a deathly allergic reaction to tap water, but is fine drinking water from a plastic bottle.

[inmyownlittlecorner5]

Moonlight Chapter 5: The Morning After

A fanfic Novel by la-topolina

Rated for Mature Audiences

Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Content

Chapter 5/26

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Four+

Chapter Six+ >>

----------------------

Severus felt the late morning sun on his face as he gradually swam back to consciousness. The delectable memories of the night before swirled through his lucid dreaming and he dreaded to open his eyes. He knew that if he did he would be back in his wretched house at Spinner’s End, looking up at the pesky water mark that he could never quite remove from the ceiling of his bedroom. He kept his eyes stubbornly closed, trying to continue his dreaming, but he was awake enough now that that was impossible. He ran his hands experimentally over the bed and, while he was alone in it, he realized that the sheets were smoother and finer than his sheets at home. The bed was softer and smelled faintly of lavender. He opened his eyes and a smile spread over his lips as he saw Miranda’s airy bedroom rather than his own gloomy chamber. 

He heard a pleasant clatter of pans and dishes through the closed door and smelled a mixture of tea, coffee, and sausage. He stretched languidly and got up to dress. He took his time doing up the buttons on the front of his frock coat and idly studied the room as he did. The bed stood under the window that was letting in the sunlight. There was a bookshelf on one wall filled with novels and poetry and a handsomely carved cherrywood armoire standing on another. The final wall was covered with children’s drawings inscribed with the names of the various artists and dedicated to ‘Auntie.’ A framed piece of needlework with the inscription ‘From Mama’ hung in the middle of this gallery. The embroidery was a nicely executed border of roses surrounding a piece of Latin prose: ‘Nisi Dominus ædificaverit donum, in vanum laboraverunt qui ædificant eam.’ He scoffed at the sentiment and turned to the mirror hanging on the back of the door. His hair was a bit tangled from the previous evening’s exertions and he did what he could to neaten it. He turned and considered the bed for a moment. The twisted sheets both pleased him with their implications and irritated him with their disorder. He was toying with the idea of returning to the bed rather promptly following breakfast, but he decided it would be more entertaining to scramble the linens again rather than to leave it thus. He flicked his wand and the bed made itself up neat as a pin. Satisfied, he emerged from the bedroom to find his partner in crime. Miranda was standing by the stove, flipping omelettes with the efficiency of a short-order cook. She wore a long blue sheath dress and her feet were bare. Her hair flowed over her back, restrained by a copper colored scarf as she cooked. He approached her and pulled aside the curtain of her hair to drop his lips onto the back of her neck. She made a sound strikingly similar to a purr but said, “I’m afraid I’ll have to eat if you’re hoping for another round. For some reason, I forgot to have dinner last night. I can’t imagine why.” She smiled impishly over her shoulder at him. “I suppose I can overlook such weakness this once,” he replied smoothly, returning her smile.

She handed him a plate of omelette and sausage and they convened at the table which was already set with toast, butter, marmalade, tea, coffee, and The Daily Prophet. They ate and read in companionable silence and, if she spent much of the meal running her bare foot up his leg, he certainly wasn’t one to complain about it. When they had demolished the food and were loitering over coffee and tea, a bell over her desk started ringing loudly.

She glanced up from her half of the paper and gave the bell an annoyed look. “I’m going to have to answer that,” she said. “It’s my father trying to check in and he’ll think I’m dead if I don’t talk to him. It’s been a few days since I gave report and I don’t want him to send someone looking for me.” She smiled at him and went on, “Would you mind terribly pretending you don’t exist for the next few minutes?” “Are you saying that you’re ashamed to have your father know that I’ve stolen your virtue?” he teased. She laughed and kissed his cheek lightly. “I knew you’d understand.” She went to the desk and took a small mirror out of one of the drawers, then she headed into the potions closet. He returned to the paper but, as the closed door did not completely muffle the sound, he could not help overhearing her conversation. “How are the Royals doing, Papa?” she was saying. “I can’t get a paper or anything on the radio about them over here.”

There was a whistle of disapproval and a deep male voice replied, “Not good, pixie, not good. The Yanks pummeled them last night. They’ve been on a losing streak for a while now. They don’t get their act together soon, they can forget about the playoffs.” “Hmmm, maybe I’m glad I can’t witness it then.” “I sure wish I couldn’t. Did you finish the paperwork on the Islington case?” “Yes Papa, and I swear they make it more complicated every time I do. I don’t even want to think about what I’m going to have to go through after the next case.” “Better you than me. It looks like you’ve got a lot of work rolling in over there. Do you want to stay?” “I think so. I have enough to keep me busy through the first quarter of next year at least. Honestly, I wonder if there’s something stirring things up. That vampire was harder to catch than he should have been and I usually don’t have a waiting list this long. The Minister of Magic himself approached me yesterday and wants to meet about something.” “That’s my girl, hitting the big time. You behave when you meet with him, do you hear me? Don’t be telling your dirty jokes just to act cute.” “Papa, I do know how to behave when I want to. But where do you think I got my material in the first place?” “Don’t go blaming me for things that are my fault. Watch your back. I’ll talk to you soon.” “I won’t, and I will. Love to Mama and the rest.” She came back into the room and replaced the mirror in its drawer, but she was frowning a bit, as though she were pondering something. She returned to her seat at the table and asked, “You don’t happen to know of anything that might be stirring up a load of Dark Magic over here, do you?” It was an innocent question, and if she had asked it of another wizard, he would have shrugged and shook his head. However, Severus was unfortunately very aware of who was behind the rise in Dark Magic in England at the moment. He kept his eyes on the paper and his expression blank. “No.” “It is strange, though. Usually there are only a few cases in a given year in England. And the darker creatures that I’ve been rounding up are stronger than I would usually expect. There must be something egging them on.” She sipped her coffee and went on, half to herself, “I’ll have to do some digging. Who’s that Headmaster at your school? Albus Dumbledore, isn’t it? Do you think he’d have time to meet with me? I imagine if anyone had his thumb on the pulse of magic in Britain he would.” “Albus Dumbledore is a very busy man.” He stared unseeing at the paper, his mind starting to go down an unpleasant path.

“Hmmmm. I seem to remember some incident in the fourteenth century where St. Patrick’s Purgatory at Lough Derg opened a bit wider than usual and all sorts of things got out. I wonder…” Her voice trailed off and she wandered over to the bookshelf, scanning the titles. Eventually she picked out an enormous leather bound tome and scooted some dishes over so that she could open it on the table. She started leafing through the aging pages, completely unaware that Severus’s expression was darkening. This had been a mistake. He was a thirty-five year old wizard, and one would think that he could enjoy the favors of a willing female without any terrible consequences. However, he was Severus Snape and nothing good ever happened to him. He was embroiled in a plot to bring down the Dark Lord. He spent his days teaching the ungrateful child of his murdered love and her wretched husband, and his nights playing the role of a faithful Death Eater. One false move, one unguarded thought could bring instant, painful death to himself and any number of other people. And really, how much did he know about Miranda Rose anyway? Who was to say that she wasn’t some sort of trap set for him? Merlin, he hated his life. He sighed and decided it was best to end it quickly. He hoped that she wouldn’t cry or do whatever embarrassing thing women did when their lovers jilted them. He set down the paper and said in a cool voice, “I think it is time I were leaving.” She closed the book and looked up at him with a smile. “You don’t have to leave. I can do this later.” He stood slowly and summoned a bland, cold expression. “I don’t think you understand, Miss Rose. This was a mistake that will not be repeated.” She arched an elegant eyebrow at him. “Oh?” “You’ve been a charming diversion, but I’m afraid I simply do not have time for any more such foolishness.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her bare feet on the table. The skirt of her dress slid up her legs, exposing them to the thigh. She took out a cigarette and lit it, her face a mask of amusement. She blew out a long line of smoke and murmured, “Goodness me. The dreaded morning after attack of scruples. I’m disappointed in you, professor. I had thought your moral code sufficiently flexible not to be bothered by them. What a shame.” Her mocking tone angered him in a way tears would not have done. He could not help trying to take her down a peg and said silkily, “Perhaps my moral code is not the problem. Perhaps I was simply dissatisfied with your performance.” She smiled nastily at him. “Please. I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed such a pathetic display of eagerness and gratitude as you provided last night. How long had it been? A year? Five years? Ten?” “What a disgustingly vulgar trollop you are,” he sneered. “Sticks and stones, professor, sticks and stones.” She swung her pretty legs off of the table and sashayed to the door. When she reached it, she opened it gracefully. “This is a door. Feel free to use it.” “I sincerely hope that your next mark separates your obscene head from your indecent body,” he snapped as he stalked out of the cabin. “From your mouth to God’s ears,” she returned. “Have a nice life.” She slammed the door after him and angrily started cleaning the breakfast mess. She scrubbed the dishes without magic in order to better vent her anger on them. What the fuck was wrong with him? He’d seemed perfectly fine and even rather amorous this morning. Then he’d suddenly turned cold and nasty for no apparent reason. And really, even if he hadn’t been completely thrilled with their encounter, there was no call to be an ass about it. Hadn’t he ever heard of a one night stand? She finished the dishes and stalked into her bedroom to air the bed clothes. It was her habit to do this most days, and she definitely wanted to do so today. She had no desire to sleep on sheets that smelled like that cold fish of an Englishman. She jerked open the bedroom door and stopped short. He’d made the bed. Men never thought to make the bed. She sighed and opened the window, letting in the breeze off the Channel. She flicked her wand at the bed and the linens pulled themselves backwards and hung on an unseen clothesline, fluttering gently in the wind. She sat down and stared out the window without really noticing anything. It had been a lovely night. She thought she had hit rather close to the mark with the gist of her insult this morning, but there had been nothing pathetic about him. They had both been a bit awkward and sloppy at first, but they had soon managed to remember how everything worked. Indeed, he had seemed so intoxicated by the heady drug of rendering one’s partner helpless with pleasure that she had half wondered if he had ever experienced it before. She felt a bit sorry now for being quite so cutting with her tongue, but it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be seeing him again and that was that. She supposed she really should get to work. There was research to be done and potions to brew and bullets to make. She got up, intending to be virtuous and start with the potions—her least favorite—but a particularly delicious waft of sea air blew in through her window. She changed her mind and went to pack her leather messenger bag instead. Bathing suit, towel, sun hat, novel. She braided her hair, put on her sandals, and headed down the the village. A little sun bathing and a swim in the Channel would be just the thing. She could be virtuous tomorrow.

-------------------

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Four+

Chapter Six+ >>

[goodbysunball]

Pure aural ecstasy on this recent split between Vilkacis and Turia. The description “BLACK METAL AS SPIRITUAL WAR” has heightened implications and expectations, but both bands deliver the goods, their expertise being a type of black metal largely practiced and perfected in the US over recent years. That is: furious, subtly melodic (without becoming treacle) and always extending towards blinding bright light. The draw for this hobgoblin is Vilkacis, who is one M. Rekevics. He’s done time in Fell Voices, Yellow Eyes and Vanum, and if you know those groups, you know what you’re in for here. This is bracing, deafening, cancel-all-your-plans music, as all black metal worth its salt should be. “In the Night’s Grip” is the best song here, and maybe the best song of the year. But the way Vilkacis slows the tempo for “Final March Into Flame,” stumbling into the best guitar line latter-day Yob never wrote by song’s end, makes one think this might be it for the project. Where do you go after 18 minutes of near-perfect euphoric ferocity? Thankfully there’s no dip in quality on the half from Turia, from the Netherlands, faithfully channeling the atmospheric void-wailing of Ash Borer across two tracks. “Tuchtroede” is the snarling ascent, “Spiegel der Eenvoudige Zielen” is the descent, providing an impossibly high level of quality and continuity rare among split records. Take these four tracks in one dose; explode into a thousand points of light.

The whole split is available as a pay-what-you-want download on the respective Vilkacis and Turia Bandcamp pages. Psychic Violence did the cassette version, and Altare Productions (Portugal) thankfully put it on wax. You’ll want the larger version for the stunning Yu Rim Chung artwork.

[flanneljammies]

2017 Top 20

20. Vous Autres - Trente Pièces d'Argent Ominous French metallions playing blackened post-metal. The glacial pace makes the emotional turmoil of the throat-shredding vocals even more harrowing. Slow and low baby. (self-released | Bandcamp)

19. Au Champ Des Morts - Dans La Joie Atmospheric black metal that touches on more than just post-rock and shoegaze. A mastery of dynamics and arrangement allows these Frenchmen to dabble in doom, noise rock, hardcore, and straight-up rock and roll. They also choose to fuck with the established vocal conventions, eschewing throat-shredding shrieking on occasion and slipping into solemnly intoned chants or a sort of hardcore bark. It's desperate and melancholy and yet often strangely uplifting. (Debemur Morti | Bandcamp) 

18. Do Make Say Think - Stubborn Persistent Illusions Post-rock stalwarts return to form, making me almost forget about their last several lackluster records. More muscular and bombastic then they've ever been, DMST also seems to be gingerly testing the waters of math-rock. There are still the gorgeous passages of lilting, pastoral beauty, but never at the expense of emotionally wrenching melody. It's no Enemy Airship, but it's a good'un. (Constellation | Bandcamp)

17. Only The Bones - Death And His Brother Sleep This Chicago band describes itself (with tongue planted firmly in cheek one supposes) as "post-Fugazi." They're not far off the mark. Members of Swan King, Snow Burial, and This Computer Kills churn out jagged Dischord-style post-punk hooks that veer off into psych and metal territory occasionally. It's economical, concise, and packs one hell of a wallop. (self-released | Bandcamp)

16. Maximum Busy Muscle - Maximum Busy Muscle  Expansive double-drummer noiserock from Athens GA. Unlike most bands trafficking in the post-Touch & Go world, MBM dispenses with vocals entirely and go completely instrumental. But this isn't some namby-pamby post-rock record. This is a tough-as-nails excursion into a maelstrom. The razor-sharp musicianship teases out swaggering noiserock, post-hardcore, and mathrock. But when the band opens up a bit and lets your catch your breath, there's also some sort of weird psychedelic thing going on that I can't quite put my finger on. It's an exhilarating and engrossing roller coaster. (self-released | Bandcamp)

15. Gnod - Just Say No To The Psycho Right​-​wing Capitalist Fascist Industrial Death Machine Anarchist drone punk from the UK. Apparently the band has been around for the better part of a decade and their recorded output has dabbled in all sorts of styles. I'm just getting hip to them now and really have only listened to this record. It's got the singleminded motorik of krautrock and the shambolic flip off of early Fall. Gnod manages to wring every last morsel of tone, meaning, and dynamics out of a single riff and still keep me on the edge of my seat. These muscular and ominous mantra-like songs underscore the modern dread summed up in the title. Crucial. (Rocket | Bandcamp)

14. Breag Naofa - II  Seattle's Breag Naofa continue their forced march of crushing devastation. Their blackened post-doom is suffocating and yet somehow still sounds like it's about to take flight. Amid the pulverizing riffs and throat-shredding vocals, ugly and twisted melodies emerge from the gloom with just enough hook to ensnare you and pull you struggling and gasping to the surface. This is an epic, sprawling indictment. Subject yourself. (Halo Of Flies | Bandcamp)

13. Ex Eye -  Ex Eye Saxophonist Colin Stetson leads this arty post-everything collective. If you're looking some nice jazz sax here, you'll be sorely disappointed. But if you're looking for damaged post-rock colliding with extreme metal, you've come to the right place. Ex Eye often reminds me of Maserati without any of that band's restraint and a whole lot more blown-out noisy layers. At other points I'm reminded of weirdo metal like, say, Liturgy but way blacker (both in style and mood) and chaotic. Stetson's sax blends with electronics and guitars so that it's often hard to tell what's going on and who's playing what. This is a stunning, immersive debut. An heir, perhaps, to John Zorn’s crown?  (Relapse | Bandcamp)

12. Amenra - Mass VI Slow-burn doom from Belgium. The album begins with air-raid-sirens-in-the-distance feedback before a gentle guitar strum emerges. After what seems like an eternity (but really is only four minutes), the sky comes crashing down with impossibly pummeling guitar and drums and a tortured high-pitched screech. Amenra takes their time in all things. If that riff needs to go on for eight minutes, then goddammit, that's how long it'll go. Vocalist Colin van Eeckhout’s new-found comfort with quiet-n-pretty clean vocals hasn't dulled their brutal edge at all. He's perfectly willing to bide his time for the next round of blood-curdling histrionics. Majestic and crushing, mournful and melancholy, Amenra continues their ascent. (Neurot | Bandcamp)

11. Bereft - Lands Madison's own Bereft knock it out of the park on their second record (and first for Prosthetic). The blackened post-metal of their earlier material is mostly gone here, instead replaced by soaring atmospheric doom. The quartet milk as much mileage as possible out of the interplay between the two vocalists (sometimes hoarse scream, sometimes plaintive incantation). The bruising slabs of down-tuned riffs threaten to swallow voices and strangle guitar melodies. In the end though it's these atmospheric elements and a deft sense melody that elevate Bereft over their low-n-slow brethren. (Prosthetic | Bandcamp) 

10. Lardo - Sinking If I didn't tell you Lardo was from Chicago, I'm pretty sure you'd be able tell anyhow. Lardo plays slashing and angular noise rock that will sound familiar to anyone who's ever heard Shellac. Like that band, vocalist Nick Minor delivers matter-of-fact sarcasm about the banal. Musically, they're anchored by a bit-crushed, synthy guitar sound that, on paper, should become really annoying really fast. The fact that it doesn't is a testament to the razor-sharp and inventive playing and laconic songwriting. As stylistically indebted as it is, Sinking still manages to step out from under the shadows and forge its own identity. (Alliterative Accord | Bandcamp) 

9. Brutus - Burst This slippery noiserock outfit from Belgium is fronted by a woman with some ungodly pipes -- in fact, I’m constantly bewildered by her power. The tightly wound post-hardcore compositions are ear worms drilling directly into your brain. Add to that a vocalist more powerful even than Julie Christmas and you've got honest-to-gosh, fist-in-the-air anthem material. Burst is spine-tingling in its soaring majesty. (Sargent House | Bandcamp) 

8. Human Future - Flat Earth Blues Apparently this London post-hardcore band broke up this year, but they've left us with a compelling swan song. This is tough, grandiose, emotionally affecting stuff that gets under the skin. Sure, there are other bands working in this same general area (Less Art, Self Defense Family, La Dispute), but Human Future's take is decidedly more bombastically rock (rawk?) -- at turns muscular and atmospheric, replete with guitar solos and proggy, psychedelic spaciness. (Truthseeker Music | Bandcamp) 

7. Rainer Maria - S/T Ten years after we last heard from them, OG emo kids Rainer Maria are back. And it's a refreshing return to form. This "comeback" record is tougher, louder, and noisier then they've been since their first record. Kaia Fischer's guitar lines are as inventive as ever and Caithlin De Marrais' vocals still channel both emotional turmoil and ennui. Maturity hasn't dulled their edge, if anything they've honed their craft in a way only seasoned musicians and road dogs can hope to do. The amped up aggression and forward propulsion of their new-found joy of playing together again is tempered by well-considered studio experimentation and atmosphere. This is no nostalgia act. This is thoughtful people making vital music. (Polyvinyl | Bandcamp) 

6. The Kraken Quartet - Separate | Migrate A quartet of four percussionists might sound like a recipe for disaster, but throw in some electronics and some top-notch playing and compositions and it turns into a post-rock tour de force. This is the record Tortoise should have been making for the last ten years. Richly immersive and percussive (duh), Separate is modern jazz for the post-rock crowd. It's compelling and spellbinding and deserves a much wider audience than it’s likely to get. (Hand Drawn | Bandcamp) 

5. Oxbow - Thin Black Duke After a ten-year hiatus, the shape-shifting, iconoclastic Oxbow is back. Eugene Robinson whispers, growls, spits, wails, moans, shouts, and proselytizes over noise-rock filtered through a vaudevillian film score. Sometimes it's muscular and angular and other times it's lush and spooky. It's always uncompromising and beguiling. By the end of the record you may wonder what you heard, but you'll listen again either way. It may feel mostly subdued, but there's real menace beneath the all the layers; like you're poking a rabid bear just coming out of hibernation -- a bit foggy, but intensely hungry and unwilling to take shit from anyone. (Hydra Head | Bandcamp)  

4. Less Art -  Strangled Light   Emotional and arty noise-rock cum hardcore is certainly not what one would expect from members of Kowloon Walled City, Tigon, and Curl Up And Die, but here we are. While Less Art often recalls a kinder, gentler Botch, there's loads of mile-wide riffs and almost-calms that do indeed reference KWC. Mike Minnick's laconic, world weary, sing-speak vocals are the centerpiece, anchoring the serpentine arrangements. These songs heave and writhe, sometimes lashing out, sometimes turning to introspection -- but there's always desperation, anger, and resignation. Strangled Light is a ferocious and formidable debut from lifers who know exactly what they're doing. Here's hoping they tour. (Gilead Media | Bandcamp) 

3. Vanum - Burning Arrow This version of black metal is probably trve enough for the kvlt kids, but there's more to it than that. Burning Arrow is triumphant and processional, uplifting despite its claustrophobic maelstrom of blast beats, tremolo picking, and throat torture. The majesty and melancholy take on a narrative quality pulling you along to the next twist in the road. It's hard to explain without resorting to some bullshit sword-vs-sorcery trope, but fuck it... Your're on a journey towards victory. On the battle field you raise your fist in the air, heart swelling as you watch your enemies vanquished. Powerful and uncompromising stuff. (Psychic Violence | Bandcamp) 

2. Big|Brave - Ardor Lazy description: Nadja fronted by Bjork. That's not wrong but there are more layers. Glacially paced doom/drone with hiccupy little girl squeals? That's not exactly it either. Crushing, mantra-like riffs à la My Disco with sweet-yet-exotic female vocals à la Blonde Redhead? Hmmm... not quite. A swirling mass of Swans-like noise underpinning Julie Christmas? Fuck it. It's brilliant. (Southern Lord | Bandcamp) 

1. Aviator - Loneliness Leaves The Light On For Me I'm a sucker for emotionally wrenching, angularly mathy post-hardcore. This Boston five piece will immediately call to mind La Dispute or mewithoutYou but they're definitely not plagiarists. Hoarse, world-weary vocals are propelled by razor sharp riffs that never fail to tug at my heart strings. It's catchy, frantic, smart, and propulsive. Makes me punch my fist in the air, want to get in the pit, and long for my youth. (No Sleep | Bandcamp)

Other Stuff Other stuff that didn’t make the list, but that I listened to a lot this year.

Breag Naofa - Cearo (self-released) Blackened post-doom from Seattle

BRZRKRZ - Fever Dream Kitchen (self-released) Electronic atmospheric beats for the lounge at the end of the unvierse

Buzzooko - Giza (Retrovox) Giddy Italian Jesus Lizard-worship.

Chavez -  Cockfighters (Matador) The influential arty indie band releases a three-song single after 20 years of activity. But come on! Only three songs and no tour plans?!?

Goddamned Animals - My Second Cult Suicide (self-released) Noisy Portland post-hardcore straddling the line between These Arms Are Snakes and San Diego chaotic hardcore.

Heaven In Her Arms - White Halo (Moment Of Collapse) Japanese Envy worship with lots of guitar solos.

Lotus Ash - The Evening Redness (self-released) Doomy sludge or is it sludgy doom? From Milwaukee.

Loyalists - Ride the Trashheap of Sound (self-released) Weird and arty noise-rock from Oakland. 

M. Martin -  A Harvest of Ice (Rare Plant) Gothy and apocalyptic collection of songs from Coordinated Suicides main man. 

Monotrope - Unifying Receiver (New Atlantis) Complex instrumental noisy math rock.

New Cowboy Builders - Used Future (self-released) Final recordings form the Welsh band that is equal parts Fall and Big Black.

Often The Thinker - Better Part of Vice (self-released) Superb 2016 release from this far-flung post-rock collective. Lush arrangements and stellar playing.

Sannhet - So Numb (Profound Lore) The NYC blackgaze band has succumbed to the dark side of shoegaze -- barely a blast beat to be found.

Throane - Plus Une Main A Mordre (Debemur Morti) Claustrophobic blackened doom from France.

Underhand -  Roman Numeral One (self-released) Muscular instrumental post-rock from Chicago.

UT - δ γ ε β (Taxi Driver) Chaotic Italian noiserock. Equal parts Blood Brothers and Slint.

Wailin’ Storms - Sick City (Antena Krzyku) Gothy noiserock from Durham NC. I hear loads of Echo and Bunnymen.

When Icarus Falls - Resilience (Czar Of Crickets) Mathy Swiss post-metal. Lots of Cult of Luna-worship.

Chelsea Wolfe - Hiss Spun (Sargent House) Another electro-goth outing from the mysterious chanteuse. 

[atomsminecraft]

I don’t remember who said this first but I want to talk about the probability of MC also having the power of just getting rid of magic from Thumanturges

Like, since Vane can enhance peoples power and we already know how powerful it can be, wouldn’t that mean she can also decrease how much power someone has or even take it away completely?

Like imagine how OP that would be

That would also make for an interesting ending for Court of Darkness because she can just get rid of or drastically decrease the Iritium leaders’ magic or something

If I were to guess how this is discovered, it would be at some point in I think book five, six, or even seven. It would probably be by the realization that since Vane can enhance powers then she probably can do the opposite as well

I have a feeling that they would think about this on Earth since iritium can’t watch them there or anything so they’re safe to plan how things go

She would then wonder if she can just take powers away in general and make a Thumanturge into a Mundane

MC becoming Aang fr 💀

Wouldn’t that also mean she can give Mundanes powers as well and turn them into Thumanturges? I feel like the sudden power would be too much for some people and either make them go power crazy for overwhelmed

That power would likely have to go somewhere because I’m guessing peoples magic can’t just disappear so would she just, absorb it? Give it away???

What if the leaders’ of Iritium don’t actually have strong ass power but it’s the Saligium Arcanium that makes them so powerful? What if they’re magic is just weak and the Saligium Arcanium makes them stronger?

I would love to see this put in the game to be honest. It would show just how much power MC now has and also how powerful Vane was.

Oh my god what of Vanum never knew about this part of Vane’s power and Vane just kept it hidden from everyone because she was scared of scaring people 🫢

I’d feel bad for her

Imagine being that stupidly powerful but you need to hide it even from your paramour because you’re worried they’ll be scared of you 😕

Vane seems like someone with a lot of secrets and I want to know all of them. She’s such an enigma even more then Lou himself

I want to know her thought process and how she thinks

I’m very much willing to talk more about this

[atomsminecraft]

It would be really cool if MC actually had her memories of being Vane but she hid it so people wouldn’t take advantage of her(more) or try and use her power even more then they tried to already

It would be funny if Phinny and Nix started to catch on but MC kept giving them reasons to think otherwise 💀

Like, she says something only Vane knows then acts like a complete idiot and like she doesn’t know what she’s talking about

They make bets to see who finds out first 💀

The pain she must feel to pretend she can’t use magic especially when she’s getting bullied and just wants to put those bullies into their places LMAO

I’d imagine she’d be aware of the crystal ball watching thing but she just doesn’t know if someone is watching her or not so she wouldn’t be able to talk about it or someone(Lou) would find out

Lou would probably suspect something is going on but lets it go after some time

Guy also suspects something but he doesn’t let it go at all 💀

Omg MC sees Lou and is like “Ayo Vanum that you?” and tries to see if he has any of his memories and is disappointed to find out he doesn’t after a few attempts to see if he does without him suspecting much

Lmao she tries to get his memories of being Vanum back but doesn’t know how

POV: MC beats the shit out of Iritium after she finds out what they’re doing to the Vanum people

She would totally beat Iritium’s ass though let’s be honest

Omg she meets Christoph and is automatically like “Ok you’re my unofficial son” because he reminds her of Vanum lmaooo

She sees Dia and just knows he’s related to someone she knew(*cough cough* Tristitas *cough cough*)

At some point I feel like she would Tell Phinny and Nix and they’d be surprised but also not really

Like they were hoping it was true but didn’t expect it to actually be true

When Lou gets his memories back and he finds out she always knew he’s like “🧍‍♂️ Damn all three of you knew 🙁” and he feels left out 💀