#but those bottles were not made to be reused

[darkhymns-fic]

He Likes It Slow

Husk already gave his soul over to Alastor long ago. It was on a quiet night, with fingers stroking along his head, and a smile that gleamed in the dark, taking his breath away.

Alastor's radio shows used to be so comforting.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters/Pairing: Husk/Alastor Rating: T Word Count: 3398 Mirror: AO3 Notes: For Radiohusk Week, Day 2: Soul. This fic plays very loosely with the theme, I just really wanted to write Alastor petting a sleepy Husk's head and then suddenly backstory happened. Still some slightly dark/toxic dynamics if you squint.

--

Husk blearily looked at the clock that read 3 AM next to his bed. He was exhausted. His body was aching. But he wasn’t asleep.

He pressed a hand to his face. Not again.

There was a reason why Husk rarely slept without a drink in hand. Even before his fall into Hell, his sleeping habits hadn’t changed much. A whiskey bottle was comfort, and when he felt his brain turn to mush after downing half the bottle, and his body becoming light, he’d fall into peaceful unconsciousness, thankfully dreaming of nothing. He’d only have to deal with the hangover, but it was a risk worth taking.

But tonight, Husk couldn’t sleep at all. And his usual nightcaps weren’t working.

It’s the quiet that gets to him, really, and maybe it was a cruel joke to think that anything in Hell could actually be quiet. Blood curdling screams and shouts were the usual playback to Pentagram City, along with a few explosions for good measure. But somehow, this late at night, there would suddenly be nothing. As if everyone in the entire afterlife had just died a second death and he was the only one left.

It’s what Husk felt as he tossed and turned in his hotel room. The whiskey bottle on his nightstand was empty, as well as the vodka bottle in his dresser. He’d have to go downstairs to get himself more, but he knew it was a lost cause.

The quiet made him anxious. It always had, even when he’d been alive. When it became too much for him, which is when he thought he’d see certain shapes and eyes in the walls of his home, Husk would turn on the television to calm his mind. It didn’t matter what it was, as long as other voices were talking that wasn’t his own, echoing in his skull. If his television had been busted, he’d play an old vinyl on his record player. Soft jazz that made his mind hum, or other classics that he knew by heart. And if his record player was also broken, then he’d resort to the radio…

Husk frowned. There was no television in this room, not that he’d trust it much, and he’d left his record player at his casino. And there was only…

“I got a bunch of portable radios on sale!” Charlie had been enthusiastically telling everyone at the parlor earlier that week. She’d handed each one out to everybody, like they were treats that she’d been saving up for a special occasion. Different styles from some as small as a wallet, to those that looked like mini boomboxes—but they all showed their age, extremely.

“Well, they were kinda lying on the curb by the V Tower, and there was a sign that said ‘Old Stupid Crap Here’, so it wasn’t really technically for sale, but that means we can reuse it! I was thinking each hotel guest could have their own little radio so they could play some tunes!”

“...Charlie, have you been talking to Smiles?” Angel Dust had asked, holding a retro radio in one set of hands with befuddlement. Alastor, of course, had been the only one not present for these daily exercises. “You know people can just use their phone.”

“Well, it’s also good for weather announcements and emergencies! Like if the power goes out or an Extermination catches us off guard…”

“Yeah. So, like, a phone basically.”

Husk shook his head. Playing that day on loop wasn’t going to help him sleep. He needed something else. Anything else.

Muttering, he wrenched open the bottom drawer of his nightstand to take out one of those stupid radio. Unlike Angel, he just never got used to new phones, and he wasn’t about to start now. At least a radio was familiar, though the one he had was plenty ancient, even for him. The face of it had a gauge for the stations instead of digital numbers, the red needle moving back and forth.

“If this even works…” But Charlie, bless her heart, had even put in a fresh set of batteries in it. Husk knew how to fiddle with the rotary dials, and pulled out the little antenna to catch better frequencies. This was certified old junk, and Husk really wondered how Charlie just got these out of nowhere.

He hesitated. All he needed from it was to play something, whether it was a crappy hour-long infomercial, a news report, or even some music that could sound somewhat nice.

And also, he just had to make sure to not tune it to one particular station.

He just wanted to sleep.

So, with a soft prayer, he turned the radio on. It instantly caught some static, and he fiddled with the antenna some more before he caught a few words here and there—a commercial talking about a new and improved version of a certain love potion, some political talk show going over a certain upcoming divorce with some royalty called Goetia, and a quick smattering of notes here and there of music that sounded a bit like death metal, which was kind of ironic.

But nothing stayed long, continuing to devolve into static, again and again. Husk groaned, flapped his wings in frustration, then slammed the radio down on the nightstand.

“Just play something!” he growled. Then plunked his head back on his pillow, while his claws kept turning the dial back and forth, trying to escape the static that kept trailing through the stations, like some looming shadow.

I’ll take anything, he thought. And then, he found it.

The one station that had no static at all.

--

.

.

.

Whenever Alastor put on his radio voice, it always served to make Husk so lethargic.

“Fine, put on a show for me,” he must have said, or something to that effect. It had been late, and insomnia was keeping him up and ragged. Neither whiskey or gin was hitting, and none of the radio programs on right now were doing it for him.

Because the next thing he knew, he found himself with no sense of time or place. Just laying on his side over a couch, limbs heavy and his vision stuck in a daze. There was a soft touch just above his ears, the hint of sharp nails that scratched pleasantly at the skin. Something about the motion, along with the voice he heard above, made him so helpless, and so content.

“Now, I was only, hmm, twenty, no, maybe twenty-three years old at the time, give or take, and the game was at its biggest stakes. Really, truly was the talk of the town. You couldn’t go to the marketplace and get your daily newspaper without some fellow yapping away about it and Ruth’s mysterious illness!” Another soft stroke, one that made Husk shift and swallow down a sound that he wasn’t sure about it. “I’m sure a lovely caller or two should know what I’m talking about, yes? The Yankees game of 1925? Be sure to give us a call after a message from one of our most esteemed sponsors.”

Husk pressed his head into a warm leg, eyes growing heavy again. “What…are you even talking about?”

A soft chuckle from above him. “You wanted a sample of my day on the job, and that’s what I gave you, my dear.”

The fingers that stroked through Husk’s hair were soft, almost delicate in their touch. It was nearly too addictive, along with the soft tenor that was Alastor’s voice.

The man had talent, he’d give him that.

“Maybe lay off the gossip,” he said. “Baseball only reminds me of a few bad bets I’ve made.”

It was hard to turn. He never wanted to move at all. It felt perfect to lay here. But still, he could manage a small shift, finally seeing a familiar silhouette above him, painted against the lamplight. Alastor was half-facing away from him, turning the dial of a nearby radio until it settled into the latest soft jazz hit that was a favorite to play at the bar.

Husk couldn’t see much else, except a grin. It was so startling white against the shadow of that face. “Hm, then how about this instead?” spoke that same grin.

Another soft touch, one that went around the shell of his ear. Fingers that traced down his neck, then back up onto his head, creating pathways through dark hair. The motion was practiced and knowing. Husk could barely stay awake as it was, but when Alastor spoke again, he was completely at his mercy.

“I have a confession, dear listeners, but nothing surprising to many of you, I’m sure. I adore the new up-and-coming talent that’s making his way on our radio waves this evening. A local talent, nonetheless. You’d do well to remember the name of Louis Armstrong, right here on this station. Got his start with Kid Ory’s band! For all you social birds, you might have seen him playing on the riverboats during those hot summers. Why, he sings Mack the Knife better than most! A personal favorite of mine. I see big things coming his way, but we can’t forget where we come from, now can we?”

Another soft stroke, with a finger just edging close to Husk’s bottom lip. The touch was still soft, but eager. Maybe, if it was another time, Husk might have pushed it away. But Alastor was still stroking his hair, still petting him. It had never felt this good before.

“And also, dear listeners, I know a few of you also appreciate those humble beginnings. Like most of us, we work through our very bones to climb our way to the top. After all, it’s the good old-fashioned American Dream. For some of us, it’s a steeper climb than others. I’m sure you understand. So let’s play something back from those old days. An older little ditty of not only Armstrong before he hit it fully on his own, but of lovely Susie, such a hilarious girl. A keen ear will pick out Louis’ swinging tunes that dance along with Susie’s beautiful voice—He Likes It Slow…”

And, it was so slow, those touches that made Husk swallow deep, that made his heartbeat ram inside his chest in contrast. The music that played was a familiar thing, on an even beat, accompanied by vocals and the banjo, and the smooth trombone. But none of that compared to Alastor’s soft and soothing voice, and his professional touches that made Husk turn into the most helpless thing in his hand.

“Don’t you now?” Alastor spoke again, in his iconic voice, but without the filter of the speaker. Husk could hear the man’s breaths just above him, as slow as those touches. 

“Alastor?” Husk tried to ask, barely comprehensible. So deep was he falling into Alastor’s touches. He must have drank too much, all in a vain hope to finally catch some sleep. Or maybe he’d been drugged—the drinks he’d had belonged to Alastor’s own cabinet, after all.

And when he had enough strength to turn his head around, to finally look closer at Alastor’s face, he was met with that wide grin, half hidden by a hand as the man leaned against the armchair of the couch.

Then, a small glint in those eyes.

Of soft, dusky red, like the dying embers of a fireplace.

.

.

.

--

Husk wasn’t in his bed.

There’s always a spot between wakefulness and dreams, and Husk was right in the middle of it. He could barely open his eyes, even though he no longer felt the hotel’s blankets and pillows underneath him. All he knew was that there was something else, something that didn’t make him want to move, not just yet.

“Just a small, little number for all you dear listeners out there. An up-and-coming star from our little denizen of a city. This saxophone player known only by his moniker, Bleeding Hearts, has a lot up his sleeve when it comes to jazz and swing, and we’ll make sure to keep him on the air to get his name out there. Now, how did you all like it?”

Someone had his hand over him, one he found himself leaning into, as if on instinct.

The fingers that stroked through his hair were still so deft, still so practiced and good. They traveled along the shape of his ears and moved to ghost over sensitive areas over his cheek. And then, they would go back to his hair, parting through it with a delicate touch, one that made him want to stay—

Wait. He pressed his lips together, tried in vain to open his eyes. This isn’t…

He wasn’t alive anymore. This didn’t make sense.

He didn’t have just hair on his head, but fur, which covered his entire frame. He didn’t have hands, but claws, curved and jagged. What he had when he was alive and human was no longer true. 

Husk wouldn’t be touched this way. Was he still dreaming?

“Now, I know this is also a bit different from our regular program. But, change can be the spice of life, or afterlife as it were. We all need to take it slow once in a while. As my dear, mystery guest can attest to…”

Who was even talking? Was it… No. No, it wouldn’t make sense.

Finally, he could open his eyes, and was greeted with dim red.

He was on his knees, which laid hard against unforgiving metal. There were only different varying shades of red wherever he looked, until finally his tired eyes could identify the details. The soft fluorescent lights above, the assortments of dials inlaid in metal in front, along with the grates that lined the floors. Another blink, and he could see the curve of a microphone, where at the base, a hand tapped its fingers against methodically.

It took him another second to understand that his head was laying in Alastor’s lap.

This had to be a dream.

Even so, a hand continued to stroke into his fur, sending bursts of warmth through his skull. His eyelids fluttered, and he couldn’t find it in himself to move. The gentleness was both addictive and unnerving. Another touch, just over his cheek, and he let out a sigh.

“Why…am I here?” he asked, but when he spoke, his voice felt thick, like it was stuffed full of cotton. “Ala…stor…”

“Hmm?” Alastor looked down at Husk, the grin etched onto his face like a permanent scar. It was bright against the dim lighting, but it felt subdued. Relaxed. Inviting, almost. “It’s simple, my dear. You reached out to me.”

Husk’s first instinct at that was denial, but he couldn’t be sure now. All he remembered was the radio in his hands, the constant static that plagued every station no matter what. Then, a plea for something. For anything to bring him some sort of peace.

Through the radio waves, Alastor could pick up on most things.

“Looks like our mystery guest has finally joined us, folks. He’s a bit radio shy, so please be patient with him. Now, don’t you want to choose our next song?”

Husk blinked again. He still didn’t understand. He could barely even lift his head, let alone speak like a normal person. Another soft touch, fingers that pressed deep into his fur and made his bones feel so malleable. He then let out a mumble, all as he pressed his cheek harder against Alastor’s leg.

“But…don’t you…” He couldn’t even finish his thought, all of it disintegrating from another pet against his fur.

“No screams for tonight’s hour,” Alastor said, giving Husk a small wink. “Isn’t that what you prefer?”

Why was he being so gentle with him? Now, after everything?

Husk thought such days had long been over.

His wings rustled, barely able to lift themselves from the floor. Husk could only press a hand near Alastor’s seat to try and stand, but he never made it far. His hand lay limp against the other’s knee, and his head continued to rest in that lap, even when his neck curved at an uncomfortable angle.

He was drunk. Or drugged. Or something else. He didn’t know what was happening to him, except the hand that continued to pet him so softly.

If he said anything else to Alastor, he wasn’t sure. Just movement and touches. Some form of sound left his mouth, and the dim knowledge that other demons in the city must have heard him through Alastor’s mic was only barely able to scratch the surface. Maybe he’d be mortified if he was in any form of control, but he wasn’t.

He was just so tired, and so comfortable. He wanted more of Alastor’s voice and touches.

“Of course you would go for an old classic.” Alastor’s grin remained bright, and his eyes were so hypnotizing, drawing Husk into the soft coals. “After all, you always liked it slow…”

And when he heard the music play, a nostalgic wave engulfed him completely. He was lost.

Husk had thought this side of Alastor had long gone dormant. Even at his tamest, there was still a glint in his smile, a fervor in the eyes. A relish and need to have those under his claws and broadcast horrifying death over the airwaves. But none of that was happening. None of anything he expected was here. Just the music from an old time, with a lady’s vocals and soft trumpet, and Alastor’s fingers stroking through his fur, as if he had never forgotten how to.

This isn’t real, Husk thought, a soft break through the waves before being submerged again. Maybe he made another sound, one that was on edge, or perhaps a little panicked. Because those fingers moved to hold his chin, lifting up his face.

“Shhh, now,” Alastor whispered. He brought his other hand near Husk, to stroke lightly against his neck.

Then, there was the weight of the chain.

As familiar to Husk as a whiskey bottle was when in his hand.

He closed his eyes. He didn’t know what he felt anymore. Because he still didn’t shift from Alastor’s touches, which were so perfect against him, which brought back old memories he thought he long buried into the ground of his very soul. Even with the chain, he could only lean his head into Alastor’s hands.

Maybe he really was drugged. Or maybe, he was still deeply in love, and didn’t know how to let go.

He heard Alastor move those chain links along his fingers. Another practiced touch, while his other hand continued petting Husk along his ears. “I think my dear kitty wants something else.”

He didn’t want to fight it.

--

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.

.

And he didn’t fight it then either, even as Alastor let his hands wander down his neck to play with the collar of his shirt. Even if there was just a bit of unease, a bit of confusion as to why he really couldn’t find it in himself to move at all. But Alastor, still smiling from his mini radio performance, all for Husk and no one else, brought his head down to be near.

“And just how slow do you like it?”

He could barely answer then, just licking his dry lips and wanting to fall closer to that mouth. His hands kneaded at Alastor’s leg. He breathed a little harder. And Alastor’s touches sent him drowning.

“Make it last forever,” he found himself saying. Clearly. As if the haze had been lifted, if only for a moment. Finally, when he was free, this was what he wanted.

And to this day, he still remembered Alastor’s smile. Something unknown, but oh so private and his alone. With hands petting him dearly, the kiss stole more than just his breath. It stole everything, until nothing was left of him at all.

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--

Husk felt sharp teeth against his tongue. The sensation made his voice stutter. A hand continued to pet just by his ears. “Al…” he whispered, and only dimly remembered to stop, seeing the mic next to them.

Alastor’s eyes glided to that mic, before turning back to Husk. He tapped a finger against the metal head of it. No echo. No feedback.

“It’s alright, Husker.” Alastor leaned in close again. “We’re off the air.”

[the-alan-price-combo]

Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon)

All Sections | Supporting One Another (1965-1968)

“[Eric] was one of the biggest influences on my music career, and gave me a tremendous insight into blues music.” - Alan Price, Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon).

It happened. It had to happen.

From March 12th to March 17th, 2024, @/tealightwhimsy (who I will be referring to as Tealight), my mother, and I all traveled to London, England. This was my first time ever on an airplane, ever getting a passport, ever traveling out of the country, and ever in a city bigger than Detroit - saving up every cent myself in order to make the journey. And before you think I only made this trip to have my own「Domino's App feat. Hatsune Miku」 moment… I promise I didn’t, haha. I made this trip to see Alan Price, yes, the real Alan Price with my own eyes! He performs in Barnes every second Thursday of the month, always delighted to play these small concerts to this day, and I wanted nothing more than to show my support and appreciation for that.

However, since we would quite literally be in the neighborhood, I thought to myself… Why not see if we can watch a very particular episode of Alan’s 1968 television series at the British Film Institute in Soho while there? It was entirely possible to do so, after all! The journey getting to this point was a bit of a complicated one -  and I’m not just talking about the eight-hour-long plane ride - but it was incredibly worth it for the rich, detailed, and affectionate footage Tealight and I bore witness to. Alan Price and Eric Burdon… on screen together… having fun…

The Price of Possibility -

So, my first exposure to the international treasure that is Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon) was in February of 2021, in a Discord group with a couple of Animals friends and I. One of those friends had randomly sent an image of that Music Echo/Disc Weekly photo (featured at the beginning of this section), plus the caption, that I eventually found out was from August 3rd, 1968. By eventually, I mean over a year later, when Tealight had discovered that huge archive of British magazines and I found the Music Echo issue it came from. However, at the time, my mind was absolutely blown. To contextualize things even further, this was still during my satirical “Alan and Eric were acting like petty divorcees in their 20s, lmao” phase, so outside of a few of those super affectionate Animals photos I had seen up until that point (the Pepsi-Cola bottle photoshoot, the photo of Alan holding Eric’s hand, etc.), this was my first time seeing a pleasant, non-antagonistically skewed representation of the pair, with a nice caption to boot. I started to put the pieces together… Eric flew over to “especially to appear on Alan’s new TV series ‘Price To Play”? You had “a great loon”? You guys did “What’d I Say”?!?

It goes without saying that this very much changed my perspective, even if just a little at the time. And I was eager to find this episode, if at all possible.

Doing a bit of quick, preliminary research at this time - again, in early-2021 - didn’t exactly come up with much, only some vague IMDb listings about the episodes and an old forum talking about the episode. I assumed that Price to Play, in its entirety, was just lost media, which was disappointing, but not surprising. Most televised footage from that period was filmed and scrapped like clockwork, with old film being quickly erased after airing in order to be reused. Even the incredible, culturally impactful Ready, Steady, Go! wasn’t safe from this practice, despite the star power behind it. Most recordings were archived thanks to eager fans manually saving the footage to tapes, opposed to studios themselves keeping track of the footage. Alan’s show undoubtedly suffered the same fate, and I had made peace with that - even after confirming the context behind it via the full Music Echo article.

That was until Ray Davies turned everything on its head.

You see, on August 5th, 2022, the BBC Archive’s Facebook page decided to post a random little clip from Price to Play: August 5th, 1968 (with guest star Ray Davies) (from the Kinks). Out of context, it’s just a generally fun clip, watching these two semi-awkward introverts talk about songwriting with one another. Especially funny considering that six years later, on a show called The Midnight Special, Ray Davies would host the June 7th episode (with guest star Alan Price). But I digress; what the BBC Archive thought was just an innocent, celebratory collaboration video they were posting completely blew the mind of a mentally ill lesbian who just woke up one Saturday morning and needed a Dr Pepper.

This… revealed a lot of things to me (Alan’s impeccable late-1968 style of dress, for one), but chief among them was the fact that Price to Play, in some form, was safe, archived, and stored somewhere in the BBC’s vast vaults of chaos. I should also mention that this was around the time I initially finished the bulk of this essay - a couple of months before posting it, in fact, just working on the revision stages. I hesitated to include information about the BBC Archive’s post as not to get anyone’s hopes up… but I certainly got my own hopes up. I didn’t know what to do with this information quite yet, but it was encouraging to know something was out there.

Then, four .gif files changed everything. AGAIN.

On January 3rd, 2023, I was scrolling through the desolate, yet familiar-to-me, depths of Animals tumblr when I came across a .gif set of Eric performing that I hadn’t seen before. It was posted by a user named @/sonand-daughter-1974, who has sadly deactivated since then, but I had reblogged these gifs before they did so. And that first .gif I saw completely threw me, because my eyes were immediately drawn to the keyboardist in the background who did an overly-dramatic hair-flip as he played. An overly-dramatic hair-flip I’ve seen many, many times before… Not to mention, the stage and set Eric was standing on reminded me of the set where Alan and Ray had been chatting in that clip the BBC Archive posted.

The full .gif set!

…Wait… WAIT.

Was this footage of Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon)?!? I messaged Tealight immediately. 

Honestly, this was a dumb question to ask, even if rhetorically, because quite obviously, it was. Eric and Alan are wearing the same shirts as the Music Echo photo, the set is the same as the Ray Davies clip… yes, this was indeed what I was looking for. Just to confirm things further, I replied to the post, asking the blogger about the context. Their replies are now gone due to being deactivated, but I remember them saying something along the lines of there being a clip of what they thought was Eric performing “What’s I Say” on the BBC Archive’s YouTube channel back in 2015.

…Well, there it is. I guess it was just the pure adrenaline coursing through my veins, dampening any shyness, but I ended up spontaneously emailing the BBC Archive’s official email account at 11:53 pm with a request for information about Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon) - just wanting to know if the footage was being archived, both the (with guest star Eric Burdon) episode and the others. To which I promptly got an email back the next day saying that they, indeed, had access to all of the episodes, even sending me a handy link to the British Film Institute’s online database! As it turned out, the August 12th episode was indeed featured there, right in the archive! Only accessible via VHS, but STILL! IT WAS THERE!

I ended up talking to someone at the British Film Institute at this time, as well, but with the episode only available via VHS, and thus only allowed to be digitized following a booked research viewing, I was at a temporary dead end. Not a distressing one, of course, as it honestly just meant a lot to know that the footage still existed at all. But I had reached the end of my actual search, with only the hope of the BBC Archive’s social media team potentially digitizing clips to post on one of their accounts. Why those other clips were removed off of YouTube, I have no idea… which implies something was digitized at some point, but I digress.

Anyway, at this point, Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon) had settled comfortingly in my brain, always as a possibility to emerge yet again, either through more lost tumblr gifs or a surprise clip on Facebook one Saturday morning. That was until the idea of traveling to London to see Alan was beginning to come to fruition… plane tickets and all, and we realized this would actually be possible to do, if I set up an appointment with the BFI. Their viewing center was in Soho, not terribly far from where we would be staying in Chiswick - right down the street from the tube station, in fact! All I had to do was pay a small booking fee and fill out an online research viewing form for Tealight and I, where I had to cite this very essay as the “non-commercial” research I would be using the footage for. Yes, this long, meandering essay about Alan Price and Eric Burdon’s relationship got me into a prestigious British film archive to watch some of the footage they’ve stockpiled… and I’m proud of that fact.

With all of that being said… March 14th, 2024. We would actually watch Alan Price himself perform right in front of our eyes later that evening… but first, we made a special stop in Soho to see a different type of performance, on the -1 floor of the British Film Institute. For research.

Let’s talk about it now.

Pure, Unadulterated Enjoyment and Affection -

Finally using the three pages of notes I hastily scribbled down in a corgi-themed notebook during the hour of viewing time we were allowed… Also, I should mention: the lady who took us to our viewing room was actually the one I had corresponded with for a year up until that point, which was really neat! She was incredibly nice to us, and never questioned why us silly Americans were going out of our way to watch such a niche piece of television… but I guess the citing of my essay on my booking form said it all, haha.

Alright, the moment you all have been waiting for: the episode proper. Prior to this, Tealight and I had no idea what the structure of this episode was going to be like, all we had was the context of the Ray Davies clip, the fact Alan was going to talk about music history, and that Alan and Eric were going to do “The Story of Bo Diddley”, “Don’t Stop The Carnival”, and “What’d I Say” at some point. That just made the anticipation rapidly evolve into pure excitement…

At the beginning of the episode, a sketch of Alan Price appeared on the screen. I audibly asked who drew it, to which Tealight replied, “Eric.” This cannot be confirmed, but it’s the right answer. He is an artist, after all.

The episode starts off with Alan and the Alan Price Set (on the verge of becoming the Paul Williams Set, if not already), doing a performance of “Loving You Is Sweeter Than Ever”. This song was originally covered by the Four Tops, with Alan later covering it for his first album, The Price to Play, and it’s certainly an… interesting choice, for an opener. With a later explanation following the performance, it was primarily chosen due to being a Motown piece, but the lyrical choice and contents also gel extremely well with the surrounding context of a “long-time coming” reunion between these two musical giants; one of them desperate to work with the other again in some form.

Following this first song, Alan talks about the general theme of the following episode: rhythm and beat in pop music, and their Spanish and African influence. He directly mentions Motown, “short for motor town”, and its respective groups, which I found very charming, as a metro-Detroit resident myself. Alan then proceeds to talk about the Old World discovery of the Americas, and the slavery/systematic racism that was enabled by said discovery. Which, while blunt, definitely deserves to be talked about in a candid, straightforward manner, even if by a white guy. It’s no secret that, if you want to be really particular about things, the Animals and other British/non-black R&B groups are technically “appropriating” black music, however respectful they are. “Appropriation” in its more neutral definition, opposed to outright negative, as they still put their own spin on the style, practically worshiped the original artists, and were highly enjoyed by black audiences… but still appropriation. However, Alan shedding light on the history is a great thing to see, especially since this program he hosted was intended for younger audiences: shedding light on specific musical styles an audience might not know the details about. He does the subject justice, even if he uses a bit of “it was okay 60 years ago, but not really now” terms.

Alan talks a bit about the history and rhythm style of “chain gangs”, before going into his own rendition of “Work Song”, which is an absolute treat to hear him perform. The Animals covered “Work Song” themselves (a stellar performance of it was featured on The Ed Sullivan Show in October of 1965, and eventually released on some reissues of Animalisms), and I’m also familiar with Georgie Fame’s version, so hearing also Alan perform it with a jazzy touch was a nice surprise.

After this, Alan talks about the brass bands that arose in the United States following the Civil War, due to the ease of access of these instruments to the black population. The brass Set members then do a stripped-back version of “When the Saints Go Marching In”, before Alan joins in for a cover of “Watermelon Man”. A performance that surprised my mom when I told her about it after the fact, since she actually played that song in a jazz band when she was in high school!

Then, the segue to end all segues occurs, with Alan talking about the introduction of string instruments to the Americas via the Spaniards, and the adoption of guitars by black musicians, turning it into a beat instrument instead of a purely melodic one, backing up the singer. It’s here that Alan mentions Bo Diddley, and the Newcastle Art College student that introduced Alan to his music… in which Tealight and I proceed to implode in on ourselves.

“...and one of the people who I listened to as a young player was an American blues guitarist called Bo Diddley. I first heard of Bo Diddley from a friend with whom I played in the early days, when he was at art college and I was working in a tax office. And his name is Eric Burdon.”

The footage then cuts to Eric, now standing in the center of the stage amidst the Set. He glances around a little, before (quite obviously) locking eyes with Alan, smiling when he does so.

“He was one of the biggest influences on my music career, and gave me a tremendous insight into blues music.”

While Alan’s speaking here, the footage is still focused on Eric. However, when Alan says “...gave me a tremendous insight…”, that’s when Eric turns to smile at him, and you can actually hear Alan smile in his voice as he speaks!! Yes, you’re going to hear me talk about the subtle inflections of Alan’s voice in this analysis, because that’s what you do when your favorite musical relationship in classic rock has a collective 75 minutes of footage in circulation featuring them.

“In my hometown of Newcastle, he was wholly responsible for the popularity of rhythm and blues, and with himself, I started a blues band which came to be known as the Animals.”

Now, the footage cuts to a photo from The Pepsi-Cola Photoshoot… a new photo we had never seen before! If you want a brief refresher on what The Pepsi-Cola Photoshoot is, it’s the photoshoot from July 4th of 1964, when “Rising Sun” was on track to top the charts, the Animals celebrating with a refreshing glass of… well, Pepsi-Cola. Such iconic images as “Alan looking up at Eric”, and “Eric nearly holding Alan’s face” and “Alan with his knee on Eric’s thigh” come from this series of photos, with this outtake resembling the latter photo. It’s at a bit of a higher angle… and you can see just how tucked against Eric that Alan is because of it.

I have this on a shirt...

Anyway, this photo hangs on the screen for the rest of Alan’s little speech, slowly zooming in on the pair.

“Bo Diddley was one of our heroes. And it was like a dream came true when one night, in Newcastle, we had the pleasure of meeting Bo, and one of his band played with us.

“And on the first LP that the Animals made, we had a song which told of this great event for us. Eric Burdon wrote it, and he called the song ‘The Story of Bo Diddley’.”

The dramatic zoom-in on the photo then quickens, before Alan starts out with those cutting opening notes of “The Story of Bo Diddley. If you haven’t heard it before, here’s a link! It’s a great homage to both Bo Diddley himself, “and the rock & roll scene in general” - with so many fun lyrical references and a general cadence that makes Eric seem like he’s improvising the lyrics, on both the album version and this live rendition - which isn’t too far from the truth.

Alright, now… we’re at the main event. Alan Price and Eric Burdon, performing together again. And it’s just as magical as you can imagine. Even with as straightforward of a rhythm as that initial “Bo Diddley” riff, you can really hear the way in which Alan adds little flourishes to further embellish Eric’s voice. Not to mention, it’s just interesting to hear Eric’s “New Animals” voice singing Original Animals’ tunes… like all of Eric’s performances, he never does things exactly like the album, which just makes particular live renditions all the more special.

At the 16:12 mark, the mystery was officially solved. This was where that previous .gif set was from, featuring Alan doing the hair flip and Eric clapping out Johnny Otis’ “Hand Jive”. It was from “The Story of Bo Diddley”! BBC Archive, please put this back on your YouTube channel! PLEASE.

And, just like the album version, we receive a duet…

Eric:

“In a little old country town one day

“A little old country band began to play

“It had two guitars and a beat up saxophone

“When the drummer let go, those cats begin to roam”

Eric and Alan together:

“Oooh we oh oh

Ooh la la that rock and roll

Ya hear me oooh we oh oh

Oooh la la that rock and roll”

Now, while on the album version, it sounds like Eric’s voice being layered, super keen-eared Price-Burdon fanatics might recognize that harmony from the 1982 Newcastle City Hall performance they did together. They didn’t do the entirety of “The Story of Bo Diddley” during this concert, mind you, just this little section, but the ease with which they did it suggested quite a bit of familiarity. And here they are, doing just that! During this entire duet, Alan is staring right at him as he plays, smiling as he sings, and Eric is turned towards him.

That’s not the only duet that hit us like a truck! During the “Hard Day’s Night” section of the song, Alan also duets with Eric! …Gosh, you two… just because they couldn’t be Lennon-McCartney as songwriters, their musical dynamic is still something wholly unique to them. No duet during the “I Wanna Be Your Man” bit (makes sense 👀), but Eric does begin the section with, “Way down in the deep south, way down in Richmond-Surrey… A pair of lips, a pair of hips, belonging to Mick Jagger…” which makes Alan vocally laugh! A little “heh..” and all!! If you’ve seen my Alan Price Laughing Compilation (pinned post on @hide-your-bugs-away), then you know Alan’s laughs are a wonderful thing. ERIC MADE HIM LAUGH!!!!

Of course, this all leads to the climax of the song, with the actual “Bo Diddley” call-and-response, which Alan and Eric leap at the opportunity to do. Mimicking one another’s vocal inflections, glancing at one another as they do so… my jaw hit the floor when I saw all of this. When the song ended, Eric gave a relieved little “Wooo!”, to which Alan responded with another smile-in-his-voice “heh..” Alan, please………..

“I think that because Eric has played such an important part in my musical approach, it’s only right that he should continue with us for the rest of the program.”

Now that Alan’s finally got Eric performing on stage with him and the Set after all these years, he isn’t going to let him slip away that easily…

Alan then talks about the music that emerged from the West Indies, following this explanation with a performance of “Don’t Stop The Carnival”. Which, yes, Eric indeed does duet with him on! Only the chorus, and as backing vocals, but like the “Before We Were So Rudely Interrupted” outtakes, it’s just interesting seeing him perform a song that Alan is so heavily associated with!

Now, for the part that blew the fragments of our minds to atomic particles.

“In our part of the world, that’s where Eric and I come from - the Northeast - the singer is called a ‘chanter’. And now it so happens that one of the really important things for the blues, or, in fact, any kind of rhythmic song, is you’ve got to bring it to a climax. And the best and most effective way to organize a chant is to have a lead singer singing any sort of phrase. For example…"

Alan then turns to Eric, a huge smile on his face. “Do you feel allllllright?”

Eric shrugs, with his own coy smile framing his face. “...I feel… fine?”

“Are you sure you feel… fine?” Alan responds.

“I feel.. I..I feel alright!” Eric nearly collapses into laughter, and when the camera cuts back to Alan, he’s trying to hide his smile with a covert brush to his nose.

A little artwork depicting this exchange! They weren't standing next to each other, but I can still imagine it...

Yes, Alan and Eric shared banter with one another, right there on camera. I know this might seem like small potatoes for folks whose favorite musicians and songwriting duos have tons of readily accessible videos and interviews available of them, but as I said before, Alan and Eric barely have any, so this little bit of footage means the absolute world to us. Confirming the fact that, yes these two have a legitimate good time together, even independent of actively performing. They know how to joke, affectionately push one another’s buttons, and have a laugh. This is just so validating when the common consensus of Animals fans seems to be that these two despised each other and never got along. I respectfully disagree.

“This call-and-answer routine is the perfect way to achieve this simper. Perhaps the greatest favorite of Eric and meself  is Ray Charles. And he’s an American blues singer whose recording of ‘What’d I Say’ has become the most classic for rhythm and blues. And it’s only right, and fitting, that we should close with this number. See you next week.”

Here it is… here it is. The whole Ray Charles. Honestly, it’s still incredibly hard to gather my thoughts on the performance of “What’s I Say” here, even eight months later. It’s kind-of like my difficulties describing why the Golden Trifecta of Animals Songs (“How You’ve Changed”, “I Believe To My Soul” and “Worried Life Blues”) are so great because they just… blend so well with their instrumental and musical styles. Made all the more difficult that this is pure, unfiltered, unmitigated, uninterrupted Price-Burdon content. Playing the song that literally brought Eric to the church hall where Alan was playing ten years previously.

I think now is as good of a time as any to do a deep dive into Alan and Eric’s body language and emotions when they perform throughout this episode, with “What’d I Say” serving as the perfect demonstration of this. Since “The Story of Bo Diddley” was mostly Eric’s vocals, and “Don’t Stop the Carnival” was mostly Alan’s, this particular song finally depicts, in both a vocal and a visual sense, more of a balance between them. They trade verses with one another, with one adding little audible noises in the background as the other sings the actual lyrics. And if you’re familiar with the original song and wondering… Yes, they do the call-and-response moaning bit. Twice. 😐 Alan also does his backwards-back-arch-while-shaking-his-head-to-get-hair-out-of-his-face-thing when Eric starts singing, so do with that information what you will.

I’ve mentioned this a handful of times now, but the most obvious indicator of the pure joy they feel while performing together (besides the quality of the music, of course) is Alan’s expressions. Oh, Alan’s letting a lot go here. I won’t show any of the covert pictures that Tealight took of our computer screen, out of respect for the archiving services… but when we showed my mom a couple of the pictures after the fact, she audibly said that she had never seen Alan look that happy before. Like, legitimately, he had the biggest smile that you could possibly imagine, all dimples and smile lines around his eyes and… agGhgh. Alan’s eyes are a give-away as well; you see, Alan usually doesn’t like playing with his eyes open. Much like his musical inspiration in Ray Charles, Alan prefers to purely play by feel. Not to mention, playing on the stage and in front of others makes him quite anxious, so closing his eyes just helps him calm down and lose himself in the music.

“Basically, I dislike being on stage. I don’t like performing in front of people. I used to be very shy. I still am. I still close my eyes and ignore the audience. Which looks like bad taste sometimes - as though I’m disinterested - but really, I’m embarrassed. I often get the horrors sitting in the dressing room. Sometimes in the middle of a number I shut my mind off and think, ‘Just what am I doing here?’” - Alan Price, Music Maker, July 1967.

So, yeah, this is a guy who's prone to panic attacks backstage and frequently, if not always, dissociates while performing in order to not have a panic attack in front of a live audience. Which just makes those moments where he does open his eyes while performing, to communicate with his band members, all the more meaningful. Not to mention, what it means when he smiles as he does so… He’s actually relaxed, in other words. Enjoying himself… and not having a panic attack. The fact that he’s doing this while sharing the stage with Eric speaks volumes, and it’s not a one-time occurrence either - he does it during the New Musical Experience Poll Winners Concert from 1965 as well, among other performances.

Playing around with a more detailed, painterly style to use on occasion... and depicting the smiles. THIS IS HOW THEY WERE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER, I'M NOT KIDDING.

These elated emotions aren’t exclusive to Alan, of course, as Eric is also all smiles throughout the episode as well, especially that last song. Frequently turning his head to glance at Alan, which is thankfully a little easier than usual, as Alan’s not positioned behind him like he usually is. Alan’s beside him, allowing the camera to actually catch moments where they’re both on screen, looking at one another. And Connie proceeds to throw a handful of confetti in the air.

The episode then ends on the finishing notes of “What’d I Say”, with Tealight and I in complete awe, five minutes left to spare before our allotted booking time was up. And, less than seven hours to spare until we met The Actual Alan Price later that evening, but that’s a story for another day…

Meaningful Satisfaction: There’s More to Come -

Like every facet of this passion-project-turned-essay of mine, I did this for the sake of the positivity present in the Animals’ general dynamic as much as I did this for myself. I wanted to satiate my own (and Tealight’s) burning curiosity, of course, after years of knowing that something Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon)-related was out there. However, beyond receiving that vindication I had anticipated, I wanted the world to know just how much these two got along and enjoyed one another. Previously, if you wanted to be extra uncharitable, you can look at that Music Echo caption and assume Eric was dragged there primarily against his will, or was only roped in via money. We only had Alan’s excitable side of the story, of course. But now, I’ve seen the results of this collaboration with my very eyes. Like the affectionate sleevenote Eric wrote, those quality sounds, that dynamic, the passion on display between them and for the music… it can’t be forced. It has to come from two individuals that wanted this, and wanted this to work. It’s no surprise that when this collaboration happened, it was when Jefferies was finally out of the picture for the New Animals. Nothing was forced; everything was natural.

This footage was, honest-to-goodness, incredible to witness. It’s the two of them, in the 60s, having an absolute ball together like it’s still 1959 and they were just beginning to learn about one another. I absolutely love that 1982 concert of theirs as well, which is also just the two of them, but the affection is nearly stifled by the undercurrent of what was to come in ‘83. It doesn’t at all ruin the experience, of course - I mean, they literally hug and it looks like Eric kisses Alan on the shoulder at the end - but again, the cynics can point at the time period and dismiss it on that basis alone. With this performance in 1968, though, it establishes the fact that their relationship is so much more than anyone seems to give them credit for back in the 60s.

If I may be a cynic myself for a moment: besides the general narrative about the Animals that seems to be perpetuated nowadays via hearsay, I think the bias against purely written materials with no visual reference whatsoever, be it through images or video, is one of the reasons why these positive aspects of their history are so frequently glossed over. There’s the fact that most people aren’t actively seeking out these obscure, 60-year-old sources when they’re learning about the band, of course, but it’s also a bit… disheartening that the main biographies/documentaries published/released about the Animals and Eric don’t even try to dig them up or reference them, instead relying purely on all of the band members’ bitter, present-day accounts. And that’s not to say these vintage articles aren’t written with any sort-of bias in mind themselves - they’re meant to be sensationalized, after all - but as I mentioned before, you can’t fake the intent behind the things that happened between Alan and Eric, mentioned in these articles. However, this 1968 footage of Alan and Eric performing together, completely independent of the Animals, and having a good time doing so, finally provides a clear, visual reference of their relationship, entirely on display. No more having to assume articles are written with toxic positivity in mind; absolutely no room for nuance. Price-Burdon had a spark between them.

Something I find charming in retrospect about Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon) is the fact that Alan never actually interviewed Eric, like he did with Ray Davies. This was probably because the episode was more a history lesson, if anything, with Eric as a relevant guest cameo, but I really don’t think an interview or co-hosting was necessary. It’s all information that Alan can easily relay himself… and it’s information that he learned from Eric. Eric taught him about the blues, the styles, the artists, the feeling… and now, he gets to sit back and listen to Alan teach an entire audience of eager listeners, of all ages, everything he taught Alan. I just think that’s very neat… “full-circle”, and all.

I also like their outfits in this. “Eric has pinstripe pants”- the last note I wrote. 😐

Anyway, 5500 words later, I should probably wrap this up, haha. I’ll probably only ever do full-section updates like this when big discoveries like this are uncovered, like if those Ready Steady Go! episodes ever resurface, or that cinéma vérité documentary about the Animals is ever released (I’d probably write a separate analysis for that), or something major along those lines. Tealight and I are considering traveling to London again to see Alan, and if we do, I’d definitely want to try and watch the other episodes of Price to Play and write an analysis of those, too. I truly love and appreciate Alan to pieces (no hetero) so just seeing this previously “locked” content and being able to share it with other Alan and Animals fans would be incredibly meaningful for me!

Also, if any clips from Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon) are ever released online, I’ll definitely add supplementary visuals, whether through images, gifs, or actual video, to this section. I’m just using my art and other reference images at the moment - again, out of respect for the Archive and the work they’ve done preserving and digitizing this for us. Holding out for the possibility that Price to Play becomes available on streaming sometime…

Alright… time for a Dr Pepper and to draw more funny Animals art… Alan and Eric art… wAHHHH!!

All Sections | Supporting One Another (1965-1968)

[the-trans-folk-witch]

The Green Devil of the Ozarks: The little green fairy of... moonshine?

It was 2005. I was with my grandfather in an old shop similar to "dick's 5 and 10" outside of Branson, Missouri. This is where The Green Devil caught my eye.

My grandfather frequented little old fashioned stores like this. He loved collecting all kinds of gadgets. Old movie posters, salt water taffy, and soda parlor paraphenalia. It was heaven on earth to him in this little corner of the world that was stuck in an older Ozark time. His house wasn't too dissimilar to a crackerbarrel gift shop. All kinds of wooden toys and dolls. He loved his little knickknacks. But on that day he found it. A copy of an old French absynthe poster with "the little green fairy" smirking at the viewer. He had to have it. It was being sold for $8! frame included! If only the seller knew the true value of it. Or how it's mere existence was breaking so many copyright laws.

Maurin Quina, as it's named, is a French apéritif advertisement painted by Leonetto Cappiello in 1906. The drink was made illegal soon after its creation. But this poster is now being reused today. It was not well known in the US at all back then. Not even in the 2000's. but my grandfather being a moonshiner, absynthe fan, and art history drop out, knew all about it.

My grandfather was not as religious as the rest of my family. But he sure prayed to God when he was trying to avoid the law. He was selling homemade moonshine without any sort of license or proper knowledge of sanitary practices. It was an arte form he learned from his father that I never had the pleasure of learning.

He decided to hang this new poster up in his storm cellar where he kept his aging bottles of various liquors. Over time it developed A life of its own. My grandfather would kiss his hand and place it on the poster of the little green fairy after every jar was sealed or sales were made. I Don't think he saw this as devil worship so much as just a simple good luck ritual. Not too disimilar to his high school basketball team kissing the image of their mascot before a game. He always practiced these superstitions even though he didn't seem to really believe in them.

Fast forward to today. I'm an Ozark trad witch. So of course I now work with this image as if it is the devil himself. He is a devil that rules spring and summer. Drunkenness, poison, lunacy, fairies, and nature. He is associated with law breaking, alcohol, healing, harming, and fertility. With Easter coming up He is on my mind heavily. A time I feed him red dyed eggs symbolizing the blood of christ and the blood of good Christians. I feed him this with intentions of causing those which share the eucharist to lust. Poisoning the church so to speak. I attend mass in spirit form and dip my blessed turkey wish bone down in the communion wine. The turkey is symbolic of love in the Ozarks. And the wishbone is horned like the stang, and my devil. Midnight mass on Easter is filled with drunkenness and sex. Those consuming this spiritually poisoned wine are consumed with lust for others in the church. An orgy ensues in the great house of God. Only for all members to awaken Easter morning with no memory of the incestuous rituals performed with their brothers and sisters in christ. To do such things in the house of God and not confess them (due to not remembering) is damanble. This is my goal as a witch. To bring the witches Sabbath to the church and to pervert the souls of good men.

By turkey wand and lustful stang I complete my work in the devils name.

A call to the Green Devil:

"Envy is his name. Drunkeness and poisoning are his arte. He is Lord of the little people and plants alike; come little green fairy and bring your lust and your lunacy. Green devil rise from the roots below like a serpent. Green devil come down from the tree tops like a booger in the night who takes its flight. Join me in this witching hour oh beast of the green and hear my call to the wild. By my witches flame may it be so."

Look out for a post on the black and red devils later this year. Our horned one changes with the seasons

[ruhorih4ra]

╰⁠(⁠ ⁠･⁠ ⁠ᗜ⁠ ⁠･⁠ ⁠)⁠➝ Part. 6

I have a feeling I just reused a scene from another of my ffs, that's because my brain it's lazy af JASJAJ please feign dementia for me ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽

Get out of my way 🌈

“Hmm! You've to try this, it's delicious!” Beelzebub looked at you with an expression you couldn't read. Was it yearn? affection? Love? A mix of all? “Why are you looking at me like that?” You kept eating the giant dessert.

It was an exuberant one, the demon lord’s castle made of different kinds of ice cream, just for the two of you.

“Here.” Beel lifted your chin and wiped some ice cream from the corner of your lips, he licked it happily. “You're right! It's delicious!” You blushed almost instantly, not a cute soft blush but something more violent and clearly noticeable.

“I must look like a tomato.” Beelzebub laughed and closed his eyes for a brief fraction of time, tilting his head as if trying to see the similarities.

You didn't know how or when, but he was already by your side. Next thing you knew, Beel was kissing you. His lips were soft and sweet against yours. It felt so real, the smell of candy mixed with something sweeter that you couldn’t pinpoint “No. I would say you taste like cherry.”

Sometimes memories come back in the form of dreams. This was the case, you knew it was a dream but it had happened. Your heart ached knowing that your little oasis was ending.

“Mc, let's do this again! I love eating with you, I love you!” He smiled and you felt at peace, you had the ridiculous idea that maybe you could trap this moment in a bottle.

“Promise me we will.” As soon as you tried to control it, the dream began to fade. This wasn't part of what had happened, at that moment, you hadn't had the need for a promise.

“Beelzebub, promise!” The urge you felt to hear those words was absurd, even more since you knew it was a dream. But you needed it, desperately, you wanted to live that false reality.

You didn't want to remember how Beel started going to eat with Sc instead of you. How he would bring you food as a consolation prize.

“Promise me, please!!” You felt tears streaming down your face, were they real? Beelzebub’s face started to blur and his voice sounded far away. “Mc, don't cry, I prom-”

You woke up gasping for air, you felt sweaty and restless. There was a prominent and growing feeling of hunger. You hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, the fight with Lucifer had sent you straight to your room.

Even if they had offered you something before, you couldn't have eaten it. Now things were different, you felt so hungry that it was actually painful.

“It's quite late, they must be asleep by now, Right? You! Go and check!!” “Why me?! I just got here!!” You took the Little D. of Wrath from one of his horns. “Do it, NOW!” The mirror cracked and your eyes glowed with a furious neon green. “At your orders, MC!!”

While the Little D. went to check, the other little demons looked at you from some distance, clearly gossiping about your bad attitude and mood swings. “The coast is clear!” You immediately went to the kitchen, your stomach roaring quite similar to Beelzebub's.

You opened the fridge, taking the first edible thing that caught your eye. “Delicious. Finally, some good fucking food.” “That's just a piece of cheese, human.”

You took a neatly prepared plate, it was protected with plastic and a note that said: "To Mc, we are sorry. Please eat something." You fell to your knees, removing the plastic and eating with your hands.

The need to consume grew with each bite you took. The more you thought about the brothers… “Don't be disgusting, use a fork.” “No.” It was delicious, you recognized the flavors of your favorite dish. It brought tears to your eyes, but also an incredible great feeling of sadness.

“They think they can apologize with a simple act of care.” You sobbed, discarding the plate and taking a pie instead. The pie had a note attached “Property of Satan. Beel, don't eat it or else...” “Screw you, Satan.” You saw a single elegantly decorated pink muffin. It tasted wonderful. “Hmm, fumckium Amsmo!”

Comically, a glowing poison apple appeared in front of you, you could have sworn a choir of angels was heard. “Okay, okay, I get it. Divine punishment, but yeah I can't eat this, it would literally kill me.” “I'll take it.” You shrugged, whatever to piss Lucifer off. “Okay.”

You saw Sc's baked bread, it looked really good but your stomach had already arrived to its limit. “I think I'll pass.” “Give it to me!!” “Finee!” You passed the bread to the Little D. of Gluttony and... wait, what?

You turned to see the Little D. so fast your neck actually ached. The tiny demon was raiding the fridge, whistling happily.

Your jaw was hanging, surprise clearly written on your face. “No, no, no!! The last one arrived just some hours ago! Why are YOU here!?!” “Don't blame us for your sins!!” “No, no, no. This is bad, absolutely bad.”

There were already four of them, the story didn't mention the time but you had a hunch they hadn't shown so soon.

Not even two days had passed since it all started! “Stop!! You're going to empty the fridge!!” “I'm still hungry!!” You bit your lips, panic taking a hold on you. Without much determination and more resignation, you sat on the floor. “What am I going to do now?!?”

A single tear rolled down your face, you were tired, anxious, worried and alone. Your head fell into your hands as you shook it. “God, I took care of your grown up children, please take care of me too!”

“Hahaha, You're so funny, Mc.” Your heart stopped for a moment. That voice, a calming yet alarming voice. Swallowing, very slowly, you lifted your head from your hands. Your eyes following the voice until they landed on a wide smile.

“Hi, a pleasure to finally meet you! Well, we had already met... But now you can actually see me!!” You blinked twice, painfully slow. “Hahaha, oh please forgive me! I'll start again.”

The beautiful lady in front of you smiled and offered you a hand.

“Hello, I'm Lilith!”

Pt. 8! ಠ⁠‿⁠ಠ

Taglist: @yuumaofc @sc4ry4l3x @kodasstar

Thanks for reading! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

[mosquitea]

Hi, Niello (Yoreejoree) here. You might remember me as a STAFF (technically a mod) of official CUBECUB (Pet Fighting Simulator) Discord server if you were in the server.

I decided to post my designs (that were posted there for new CubeCub ideas and redesign suggestions) here because I felt shame that those are rotting in there only and server members liked them:

[Original Monster Designs]

Type: Water-Light

Bottlet

A moving bottle from a mystery historic site. The water in a bottle seems special.

Aquannon

Now it can move its face freely which allows it to take aim easily. It is still unknown where the water comes from.

Amphoray

Said to be one of relics that guarded an ancient watery kingdom. The kingdom used it to shoot the holy water against evil spirits.

Type: Wood-Fire-Light

Egglit

It gathers oil from like cracked eggs in order to fuel itself. Some trainers get burnt from threatened Egglits for mistakenly seeing them as easter eggs.

Warmpty

A Warmpty sat on a grassy place can cause a great wildfire; so many people keep watching Warmptys before they couldn't recover its verdancy.

Ovardor

Ovardors need a freshly burnt grass field so they can reproduce their kins there. The Verdant Eggfield was made specifically for them in order to prevent them from causing problems outside as well as creating more innocent woodland CubeCubs in danger.

Type: Fantasy-Wood-Earth

Lapeep

Two ear-like plumes work as antennae to sense any threats near it. If threatened, it'll call its guardian.

Lapoul

Lapouls collect unfertilized eggs in order to use them as vehicles for its botanic trick, or nutrient foods for it.

Lapitrice

Lapitrices guard the whole Verdant Eggfield and can easily make blighted plants alive. Colorful plumes fell from its fluff are said to bring the vigour and the blessing to who picked it up.

[Supposed to be Redesign suggestions]

These were suggested because the game has too many stolen designs in-game. However, since there's no hope for any redesigns being applied in-game, I might consider reusing them as original designs later:

'' - Yuyuu - Yuyuurei

Originally the redesign suggestions for:

'' - '' - Miaorchid

Originally the redesign suggestions for:

Nutrot - Bushield - Verdantitan

Originally the redesign suggestions for:

Originally the redesign suggestions for:

(I ended up unable to finish the redesign for its final evolution though, but hopefully I can finish it later in another post)

Originally the redesign suggestions for:

Originally the redesign suggestions for:

Originally the redesign suggestions for:

Originally the redesign suggestions for:

Originally the redesign suggestions for:

Originally the redesign suggestions for:

[arrow-gt-ace]

The image of Jack's glass holding an entire bottle of wine got me thinking, did his parents have to improvise some of Jack's stuff when he was growing up? Like using a pitchfork for a fork, a whisky barrel for when they bathed him as a baby, feed bags for shirts, etc

yes !! repurposed objects was a way of saving money they live in the city so they dont have any big animals or large stretches of land, but i can imagine using tools intended for things like gardening and such would in some instances have been cheaper than say, getting a metalsmith to custom make minigiant-sized cutlery maybe Jack also had a few patchwork coats and blankets when he was growing up, lovingly made by a family member. reusing those scrap fabrics and materials and saving the trip to the tailor when he needed a new jacket or such. of course, his parents would buy actual custom things for young Jack when they could. they were trying their best after all. just that they had to be smart with their money Jack being grown-up and being able to afford custom stuff means that him and his parents don't have to do this kind of thing anymore, but he's still thankful for all they did for him when he was a kid (and he still keeps a few of the more sentimental items, even if he's outgrown them)

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Day 2: Self-Mutilation

(Disclaimer: the character in this story does not belong to me. Phantom is the property of Nathan Sharp and Give heart Records. Also, please note that this scenario happened sometime before the events of the Phantom music video.)

(Trigger Warnings: body horror, knives/blades, gore, blood, exposed bones, ritual, implications of illegal business, drinking, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Day 1  Day 3   Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10 Day 11 Day 12 Day 13

The cane didn’t seem like anything special at first. Oh sure, its wood was a glossy shade of black, and its hilt had been crafted to resemble a set of three curving, silvery talons.

And while that did set it apart from more standard walking-sticks, it still looked. . .cheap. Fragile. Like something you’d find in either a gas station or a sidewalk vendor’s booth, alongside bootleg toys and the like. (The claws weren’t even grasping anything! They were just clutching empty air! What was the user supposed to do, intertwine their fingers with it? Because if that was the case, then that was just sad.) 

Even so, Phantom had wanted it. He knew he hadn’t been drawn to it like some fantasy B-movie might suggest. He just so happened to be in the market for a personal talisman. No magic-user could fully conduct their power without a talisman. Not even one with an eldritch-level status like him.

He’d visited numerous antique stores and curiosity shops and what have you. He’d already come across a few interesting candidates (a rainbow-steel switchblade, a fountain pen with an abalone-esque pattern, too many rings and necklaces to count, etc.) but none of them stood out to him quite like the cane did. 

It didn’t matter how the cane had probably been slapped together, how the metal of its claws would potentially turn pink wherever it was most often touched, how it’d likely been sheer dumb luck on the manufacturer’s part to include quality wood. 

None of those things mattered, because Phantom took pride in being a creative bastard. 

He’d transformed a handful of condemned buildings into places anyone would like to visit on their nights off, hadn’t he?

He’d managed to keep his underground empire safely under the radar centuries now, hadn’t he?

He’d earned a reputation for having one of the largest soul collections on earth, hadn’t he?

Shaping this cane into something stronger, something better, something real. . .how hard could that possibly be?

___

As it turned out, improving his new talisman might be just a wee-bit harder than Phantom had thought. 

Not like that was going to stop him, mind you. He’d already paid a sum that was more than this cane was actually worth. (For now, at least. Once he was done with it, the price tag would be much, much higher than any measly amount of dollars. . .)

Phantom murmured a song in his monstrous native tongue as he paced, carefully pouring a jar of white powder on the floor at the center of his personal den. The powder in question was a mixture of ashes and ground-up bones, courtesy of the last idiot who’d tried to steal something from him. 

The shape he was creating almost resembled a mandala, if not just a piece of abstract art. With how he had to constantly shift his hand in order to get each part right, his wrist honestly might’ve snapped if he was human. 

Even with whatever was festering in his gut right now, Phantom still appreciated the irony of that thought. 

Once the symbol was finally complete, Phantom set the now empty jar aside and surveyed the purple-stained shelves that made up one of the four walls here. His eyes settled on two glass bottles. 

The first was a wine decanter that he’d cleaned out a few weeks prior. (Just because he was a horrific abomination didn’t mean he was ignorant about reusing and recycling, Karen.) The liquid now residing inside of it was the same color as a bruise, churning of its own accord. Phantom had brewed it and poured it into the bottle to cool about an hour ago. 

The second was a much smaller vial that had been molded into the shape of a human skull. This one contained an emerald-green oil; the way it glowed looked radioactive and appealing at the same time.

Phantom took both of them into his hands and strolled back across the room. He sat down in the center of the bone-powder symbol, setting the bottles down beside him, then peered at the table in the corner. He bared his teeth in a sharp whistle, and the cane came soaring like an over-eager dog. It stopped to hover before its owner at a horizontal angle, waiting silently for his next move. 

Phantom had already popped one of his spare orbs into the space between cane’s three silver claws. (Not only had it been such a perfect, satisfying fit, but it could also give him an excuse to cause some hell-raising if his rivals ever tried asking him about how he pondered it.)

But, of course, that wasn’t enough. 

Making a talisman required a lot more sacrifice. 

With that in mind, Phantom decided to stop with the dramatic effect and just get this over with. 

He glanced back and forth between his legs. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t decide which one to use for this ritual; they were just part of his disguise, after all. Whatever damage was done would be minimal. Still, as he leaned forward, he specifically rolled the right pant-leg up to his knee. (Humans always made a big deal about things being on the left.)

He then uncorked the skull-vial, pouring some of its contents into his cupped free hand. Once he decided there was enough, he reached up and slathered it all along the cane’s stem, leaving no square-inch untouched. After that, he drained a little more of the green liquid out and applied it to his partially-uncovered leg. He had to be more careful with it this time, tracing a network of jagged, spiraling lines onto his false skin. 

By the time he was done, there wasn’t much of the potion left. Then again, that wouldn’t be much of a problem: it was a simple concoction of ink, tears, and blood. He’d have a fresh batch ready in no time.

The stuff in the wine decanter, on the other hand. . .it was one of the few things that beings like Phantom struggled with. He cringed as he raised the bottle closer to his face. The odor leaking out was almost similar to the fresh, distinct scent that always followed a good rainstorm—geosmin, if Phantom remembered correctly. Except if geosmin had an oily bite to it, as though some idiot thought it’d be a good idea to mix sweat with Pure Evil 13 Million hot sauce for a YouTube video.

Phantom stared down the elixir for a few long seconds, then screwed his eyes shut and took a swig. He had to really commit to the whole Bottoms Up thing, craning his neck all the way back in order to force himself to not immediately spit the fluid out. Worcestershire sauce was already the bane of any eldritch’s existence, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that adding spleen milk and apple cider vinegar to it made it even worse. 

It tasted like it was insulting him. 

How the fuck did that even work?!

But that didn’t change the fact that this particular mixture proved so effective for most self-involved rituals.

So, Phantom drank about half of the decanter. Once he knew he’d consumed enough for his plan, he set it down beside the skull vial (it took some effort not to instinctually chuck the decanter across the room). 

He could already feel the emerald oil tingling on his skin, as well as the Fuck You Juice starting to boil in his stomach. However, he knew from experience that potions were a bit similar to computers: they almost always seemed to need at least three and a half days to start working.  

Phantom shifted to lie down on his back, stretching his arms and folding his hands behind his neck. It was his turn to wait as he stared up at the cane. 

Sooner or later, something manifested inside the orb it was holding. That something flickered at first, like indigo embers at the bottom of a firepit. But as he watched, it grew larger and brighter. It transitioned from energy to a solid mass, and it writhed similarly to an octopus in a cramped aquarium. 

There was still barely anything to prepare Phantom for what came next. 

The muscles inside Phantom’s right calf began twitching, much more violently than the occasional spasms humans typically experienced. The ensuing sNaAaP was as sickening as it was muffled. The lower half of Phantom’s leg buckled, most definitely not bending the correct way. The involuntary movement suggested that he’d just been hit with a reflex hammer that was somehow on steroids.

Phantom’s dark, toxic blood sprayed out as a glistening shape tore its way through his flesh. Considering how hard it really was to break bones (especially with how resilient Phantom’s disguise was), it was no surprise that both the tibia and fibula looked a little worse for wear. The ends that had formerly been connected to the patella were now jagged and splintery, tangled with strands of skin. 

Phantom’s ankle effectively dislocated, which sort of felt like all the times it’d just randomly rolled when he walked for no reason. Except this was worse, because the talus didn’t seem ready to be snapped like a gory KitKat bar. 

The partially-exposed bones bucked and shook like an animal in a trap. In response, whatever amount of Phantom’s blood that hadn’t spilled yet decided to grow claws. The layers of Phantom’s skin shredded themselves apart. A few pieces were sent flying as the gash grew wider and wider.

Finally, with an awful Strrr-cRaCk, Phantom’s lower leg bones rose into the air. They twisted around the cane to a chorus of popping and clicking, like a strangler vine growing around a thin tree. 

A sharp, sizzling hiss buzzed through Phantom’s ears as the bones started steaming, starting melting. But they refused to drip down onto the floor below. No, instead, they just kept sliding all over the cane, slowly but surely soaking into its material.

Phantom wasn’t sure how long it took for the absorption phase to be complete. His pain receptors weren’t active, of course, but something about watching your own body parts be mauled and repurposed by unseen hands just seemed to make time slow down. 

Eventually, the cane appeared clean once again. Aside from the remains of Phantom’s leg, there was no evidence that anything had happened to the cane at all. 

Phantom raised one of his arms, holding his hand open to the air above. The cane faithfully drifted toward him. The wood felt like snakeskin as Phantom closed his fingers around it. After a few seconds passed, he sat up on his haunches, holding the cane a bit closer for examination. 

The metal hilt was hot to the touch. Its trio of claws were sharper than before. 

The orb now appeared empty, but Phantom knew better.

A satisfied grin etched its way across his features—way more satisfied than it probably should’ve been for a guy whose leg looked like it’d been shoved into a garbage disposal.

But that wasn’t a problem. His disguise’s bones had grown back before, so they’d grow back again. In fact, the healing process would probably be even faster than usual.

Phantom’s new talisman was ready for service, after all. . .

@that-bat @sammys-magical-au. @captainrose35 @th3w00ds @thelittleautisticgirl @ineedallofthehugs

[noctswife]

while on my gbf kick i realized i hadnt posted pics of my artbook (Extra Works VI)! Extra pics under the cut + some thoughts

pic 1: Lots of pics from GBFes 2019! I wish they would release the art made for gbfes digitally, there’s a lot of cute, fun, and experimental stuff here that would be good for icons and edits.

Also there was a picture of grimmy in his cooking attire from grand blues!, and I tried to clean it up the best I could since he’s my son. The text reads “CHESTNUUUUT Rice!” (the joke being that “GRIIII” sounds similar to “KURIIII”, the japanese word for chestnut)

Image 3: I liked the different experimental paneling they tried out for korwa’s uncap art! I find this kind of stylistic choice very fun (I enjoy lunalu’s manga-type paneling uncap arts too)

Image 4: I especially liked the concept with cassius’ face being reflected in the ramune bottle, but I get why they didn’t use it. I do wish the actual uncap art was at night, though, with the contrast being more vibrant and having a more dreamy vibe.

Image 5: Grimmy!!! Honestly, I love all these concepts and their chuunibyou goodness. I do kind of wish they went with the bottom two, since they incorporate his lance better (Bottom right below since it’s out of focus)

Image 6: I just think the blue color looks cuter with a more sailor boy aesthetic, especially with the non-hood alt. There’s a boyish charm to it ww

Image 8: There was a lot of ladiva in this, which I didn’t expect but absolutely enjoyed! I loved the different layouts they tried, and each has their own charm! The first one has this teddybear ladiva, which is absolutely criminal that it didnt make into the final cut.

They also had these lines for ladiva’s sprites in her battle, which make me want to get the gbvs artbooks to see the attention to detail they put into the animations there

Image 9: There were a lot of front-back references for various outfits, which I didn’t expect. There were also a lot of concepts for vikala, first various ideas and then two pages of them messing with colors and bits for a more finalized one

The concept artwork for the chaos and promise albums was also included. I like the top artwork’s use of white (or I guess black) space and contrast, but I guess it wouldn’t make for an interesting back cover. I do think it would have been nice to reuse it for that belial ps4 skin that also was monochromatic. Speaking of belial...

Here’s an alternate concept for his adjutant outfit, with a slightly more armored look. the calf-high boots are quite nice!

All in all, I think this book is a good pick for:

WMTSB III concept art (Not a lot of deviations from the finalized stuff, but there’s a lot of it. Also quite a bit of maydays there)

Ladiva fans

Vikala fans (There’s like 10 pages of her. So much vikala)

Other stuff I didn’t include but is worth mentioning:

Eternals uncap art linework

Concepts for those side stories sketches that show up when you open the page

They considered giving uriel boxer-briefs for his swimsuit

Art for granblue channel eps 25 to 38

[earninganincomplete]

The Three R's

Summary: There's a recycling crisis in Sandrock, and Burgess knows he's the one to try and solve it.

Rating: G

Characters: Burgess, Pablo, Dan-bi

A/N: @perniciouslizard is my main. I just felt like messing around with character voices, so I wrote a bit of nothing for fun.

Word Count: 1337

--

Once a month, Pablo’s mailbox was stuffed full of magazines. Most of them were popular fashion magazines from around the region, but a few were more “general interest.” Pablo always rolled his eyes and did air quotes when he said that, for reasons that Burgess thought must only be clear to super fancy people like Pablo and Amirah.

That didn’t matter. Pablo said he needed all those stacks of glossy paper to run his business, and Burgess had to trust him. They seemed to be kept next to the stations inside the salon, so there was no reason to think it was an elaborate scam to release more litter into the oasis and the surrounding areas. Pablo and Burgess had different priorities, but Burgess knew he wasn’t evil. He’d even seen Pablo pick up a bottle from the ground and toss it in the trash when he thought no one was watching.

The magazines were still a problem, though! “Accidental” litterings could happen, especially during a sandstorm. Burgess had watched, once, in horror, as one of the builder’s free roaming cats knocked down a recycling bin, got the secured lid off, and scattered the contents. Bits of junk had hit the wind and were out of sight before Burgess was able to make it down from the temple grounds.

“Reduce, Reuse, Recycle!” Burgess had set up a meeting at the Blue Moon to try and explain to Pablo why “reduce” took the primary spot in everyone’s favorite anti-trash slogan.

“I’m just one man, sweetheart,” Pablo said. “You can’t expect me to keep a full house entertained and ensure I’m paying proper attention to beautifying my customers. And if I leave them alone, they get bored and leave before everything’s set properly. Even the elderly transform into petulant children if you don’t give them something to look at while they’re waiting.”

Again, Burgess couldn’t argue about how Pablo ran his business. He still recalled very clearly the time a tourist fell asleep on a busy day and got locked in when Pablo closed up. When she woke up and realized she was in the dark and couldn’t figure out how to get out, everyone in town heard the stream of insults and cosmopolitan expletives coming from the salon when she found Pablo in his bedroom and woke him up. He had assumed she was a “fantastically coiffed robber.”

“Well, I guess if you’ve done everything can to follow the first and most sacred of the three R’s, then I guess...can you try reusing them?”

Pablo sighed. “Sometimes I rip them up if their ‘newest trends’ section is offensive enough. Plaids? This season? Really?” His voice was soft and gentle. “And after I burn the parts no one deserves to have to see, I give the rest of that magazine to the doctor for his bird.”

“You burn it?”

“Oh, just the worst parts. I promise. But I don’t think his bird uses enough paper in a month to take all of them. Maybe the town should think about investing in better locking lids on their garbage bins? Just an idea?” Pablo had an air of calm about him as he sipped his tea, but Burgess got the sense that he didn’t think any of this was his responsibility. But litter was everyone’s responsibility.

“I can apply for another grant, but Mayor Trudy says that garbage collection already takes twice as long since we added the old locks, and the animals have already figured out how to break into the cans, anyhow.” Burgess had ordered sand tea because it seemed like what everyone drank when they sat in the Blue Moon talking to Pablo. He hadn’t taken a sip yet. This was a difficult puzzle and he was determined to solve it. He sighed. “I guess using gene manipulation to create races of super intelligent mutant animals was another bad move on the old world’s part! Who could have guessed?”

“And they made them so ugly, too,” Pablo said, sympathetic. “Well, it seems like a more complicated problem then I realized.” He frowned. “Well, how about you just take them? Maybe your church could, I don’t know, distribute them to the fashion needy throughout the area? While you’re out there dropping off food and things, anyway.”

Burgess had to approve of charitable impulse, which made it difficult to turn down the offer. He felt a tiny be like this very serious problem of chronic littering – a problem Pablo had caused with his rampant magazine subscribing – was not being taken seriously. And maybe the problem was being foisted off onto him and the church. “Um, thanks! I’m sure all the people living in the depths of poverty on the edges of civilization could use...something to read?” Literacy rates fell dramatically the further people lived from any major city.

Pablo must have had the same thought. “They all have pretty pictures in them, too.”

He couldn’t figure out how to turn down the offer, so Burgess took the donation. He didn’t want to store them in with the more important things in church storage, so he kept them in a neat stack in the back of his dorm room. Whenever someone (usually Dan-bi) went on a charity run, they would take some along. They only ever took a couple, since food kind of took priority space-wise. It usually took a full season to distribute them.

The ranchers thanked the church for the “free TP,” but Dan-bi mentioned they all were dressing more colorfully when she visited again. “Farmer Ban asked me if he thought his shirt looked good on him, even though he’s a ‘winter,’ whatever that means.”

“Oh! Then he probably wants to wear different shades of blue? The quiz I took says I’m a spring and I should wear bright colors! Except I’m not sure I guessed my undertones right, and that’s a big deal, apparently.” Burgess had read every single magazine. It was difficult for him to have a piece of paper nearby and not read it. Plus, some of the magazines had surveys! And quizzes! “Maybe I’ll ask Pablo later.”

“I bet he’ll love that.” Dan-bi shoved a couple more magazines into her bag. “I think this might be your last season with these. I guess some of Fang’s patients started reading the scraps X was scattering around, and they spent less time trying to talk to him. So he’ll take the leftovers.”

That would probably just move the problem forward a couple more seasons, but Burgess was willing to accept a lot to get the distracting quizzes out of his direct eye line. “That’s great! But, oh no! What about Farmer Ban? If his love of fashion is just starting to blossom, I wouldn’t want to crush it before it had the chance to bloom!”

“I’ll save him a couple, Burgey-boy. Don’t worry.” She started to leave, and then ran back. “Oh, hey! This Friday! Babysitting? You up for it?”

“Oh, of course! It’s such an honor that-”

“Yeah thanks bye!” She was gone.

“Well...bye!” He called out the window.

Burgess knelt down next to the stack of magazines. “And goodbye to you, too, magazines with beautiful people on the cover!” He really would miss the quizzes, though, even if all the articles about getting a “summer body” made him feel kind of bad in a weird way he tried hard to not think about.

He heard a loud bang right outside the dorms and rapidly jogged out to find out what was making the noise. Coco was sitting on one of the dorm’s recycling bins, pecking at the elaborate lock the builder made for him to test out. Three pecks and it fell off. “Co Co--!” It flew away when it spotted Burgess.

“You can’t keep getting away with this!” He shook his fist at the sky. “I’m adding it to your fine!”

Man, everyone was just running away from him that night. He piled some rocks on the can and went back inside.

--

[paladinbaby]

2, 13, 40 for nettle my friend nettle?

2 - what was the original concept for this character? how did playing them change that concept?

in my very first notes nettle was actively studying magic and had grown up with it which I think was the biggest change between then and now. on a more table level though she was originally far far more of a bitch than she ended up being. part of that was bc i would have felt bad going in swinging and part of that is her character ended up a lot more pathetic (affectionate) than her original concept. like her being so so sad feels like a nicer balance against her being actually quite powerful than her being an asshole would’ve been.

13 - what are some motifs you associate with them?did you intentionally bring in these motifs or did it happen over time?

i think my original motifs in her design were her satchel, yellow flowers and then her open envelope tattoo. the bag has stuck the most out of those and i think with it the idea that all her potions are in like reused bottles and thermoses and there are just knives in there and individual teabags and crumpled receipts. i think one that’s developed more naturally is her glowing eyes, because she’s a scourge aasimar but she doesn’t know it and the party are far more accepting of the information than she is. she’s also about to get a gun and im using renaissance pistol stats which aesthetically is also a fun image of her using this historical weapon.

40. if you had to remake this character right now, how would you change them?

putting this one under a cut bc it’s long. it’s fun you ask this one bc we did have the opportunity to completely rebuild a few sessions back and I didn’t change much but I did write up what I did and then not post it so I’m copying it in here

Nettle is a scourge aasimar with five levels of alchemist artificer and one level of wild magic sorcerer and she can best be described as freakishly functional, in part because i rolled insane base stats for her. I also couldn’t change too much about her without changing kind of core parts of her character but a lot has happened to her in the past few sessions and i wanted her sheet to reflect that

Spells

For the most part i didn't need to change her spells or cantrips but i took shield as one of her sorcerer spells and realised in vampire fight that i was never going to choose to use a spell slot on it. Instead i replaced it with silvery barbs to keep the ability to have a reaction spell, but this one is more in keeping with her character and i think would be more fun to use

Abilities

This is much more a narrative change than mechanically needed change but i added luka nightmare mechanic to her. Simply her life has gone so off the rails so fast

Weapon

Artificers have optional firearm proficiency and i’d kind of avoided it because i wasn’t sure if it would fit with her character. However i think in hindsight taking a bow as part of her core kit made even less sense and didn't feel as useful so she has a gun now <3

Plans

I’m not going to keep using homunculus servant because i found it too much extra to keep track of for not enough pay off over the course of the fight. Im also going to ask to go to the armory in the training session to get mail armour to boost her ac a little.

Finally I decided I wanted to stick with alchemist long term/ not take any more levels of sorcerer, especially because the spell refuel ring infusion gives her pretty much the same increase in spell slots as an extra level of sorcerer would, she can get an infusion for her gun and it’s one step closer to more cool artificer abilities.

[americandadrps]

tw: parental neglect

You’ve never known father love, but that never mattered much to you as you couldn’t miss what you never knew. The one guardian you had, your mother, made sure there was always a male presence in your home, always chasing after a man who promised her the world for a few months before he took off. They always took off. That neglect and push you felt kept building up, being forced from so young to fend for yourself, learn to navigate the beauty and horrors of the world from such an early age. Not once did you ever get to experience the joyous innocence of being a child. Did you?

School was your safe haven, and even though you never had the best grades you tried your best. I saw all that effort you put in, the way you had to reuse old materials just to hand in a project on time. But it wasn’t easy as whenever another one of the thousand men left, your mother became a belligerent mess, and even as you sequestered her, laid her upon her bed, you felt her cold eyes on you.

She blamed you didn’t she? Blamed you for all the heartbreak and turmoil, and how it had always been you at the root of it all. You who chased the men away because at the end of the day, they didn’t wish to take care of two mouths. She kept it quiet for a long time, kept building it up until one day, one long sip drew it all out. As the bottle shattered on the floor, so did your heart as she spew hatred towards you, said you were her worst mistake, the first that led to her downfall. The byproduct of the first man to break her heart, but not the last.

Weren’t you kicked out shortly after that, or did you run away? I can’t quite remember, but you did sleep on the streets for a little. That is until someone took you in, a friend, I believe, someone who gave you the kind of solace you never knew you needed. At first you were cold and distant, afraid that the kindness was just a ploy, but little by little you grew warmer, felt the sincerity in their actions and something in you bloomed as well.

Life hasn’t been easy for you, and you’re still dreaming of going to school, fashion and design was it? Something you’ve always loved, the ability to create and innovate, but all that requires money, the one thing you’ve never been able to hold onto for long. So what will you do now? Stay in this town, find love? Or follow in your mother’s steps?

PERSONALITY

Ducky is as effervescent as they come, he'd bright and witty and could light up a room with a smile. Or so he likes to believe. A guy whose never shied away from speaking his mind, regardless if it comes off as tactful or not. He's fun, he's flirty, and you'll definitely know if he likes you because he'll say it to your face. Underneath all the smiles and laughs there is a boy who believes he doesn't deserve love or that he's easily replaceable, and he clings onto a sliver of hope that someone will think worthy of him enough to stay.

BACKGROUND / BIO

As the boy grew he began to notice the slew of men coming in and out of his home. At first he didn't understand why each and every time it made his mother grow more distant, but he knew that every single one that stepped out the door, took a little piece of hope from her. School became a safe haven, where he could immerse himself into studies or whatever activity he could get his hands on. Some seemed a little too rough for Ducky, but dance, cheer, figure skating, it all sort of just clicked. All he wanted was to not be home, for a few extra hours away from that place.Then at the ripe age of sixteen, Ducky found that he had no home, an argument, some words best left unsaid had left it at the door with all his belongings unsure of where to go from there. It had been a struggle for those few years, but with odd jobs and friends he managed to survive. Couch surfing, sleeping at shelters you did everything, until one day working at the makeup counter at the mall, one simple task changed your life. A woman whisked Ducky away into the life of a personal assistant, teaching him every trick in the book, paying for his schooling, and ensuring that he had a place to stay. Now years into this job he's found his footing and ready to take on the world, or at least the next makeup launch.

[bitchy-peachy]

Today I finally noticed that both my face and neck swelling are going down. I was worried more about the neck swelling bs cos my neck felt heavy and squeezed.

My nose and lips are finally making an appearance. Yay. Everyone kept saying my face was shrinking every day (I didn't believe them especially while choking on that neck swelling) but my face and neck look visually less swollen. Like maybe 30 to 40 % less swelling around my neck and some areas around my face. My eye area was swollen real bad and my eyes were literally pulsing and I would go blind once in awhile (yeah my reaction to steroids was THAT bad and I'm being told I'm possibly allegic cos of how some side effects effed up. So not everyone will have it as bad as me but i WILL give y'all a headups to tell you the possibility).

I would ice my eyes and use some beauty products that are supposed to help lower swelling and help clean eyes of debris from dirt/makeup (my beauty obsession really helped me out in some areas cos these products did help soothe, help lower some inflammation etc. Cooled face masks (some you reuse and can fill with water and ice) helped with headaches, icing beauty products helped with some bruising (and protecting from UV rays cos my chances of getting skin cancer has INCREASED. Literally all my skin care has sun protection (which explains why I have to replace them frequency cos sun protection products expire fast.

My neck looks less toad like and I can lay on my back without feeling like someone is stepping on my neck (I'm sorry but it literally felt like someone was standing on my neck. The pressure is lessened now considerably. Can't wear my protective necklaces yet though but my rings are starting to fit my fingers again so I can wear those.

Oh I forgot to mention some weirdness about my body... but my hair is GROWING BACK. I read that didn't start until 3 months after being super smooth but no, I have fuzz. Literally my hair is already growing back 👀.

I don't know if it's my body's "natural" way of producing collagen. My body produces a bit more than the average person which would explain why I'd bouce back pretty fast from illnesses, wounds, bruises, my hair would grow twice as fast (which is why I always complained about beauticians not wanting to cut my hair short. I ended up frequenting a barber who listens to me and cuts my hair short 😤)nails grow faster which made me give up on getting pedis cos my natural nails kept outgrowing them too fast and so on.

I was concerned this collagen issue would make my cancer worse (especially tumors) but it might actually not do anything either good or bad to my present condition.

Ooooh I rambled again. Gonna hydrate aka drink 3 bottles of water in a row like I do after every meal cos that helps with the side effects of my oral chemo (hydration is apparently the "heal all" when it comes to treatment care. If you're well hydrated you won't be hit as hard with inflammation, swelling of muscles, high blood pressure... yeah, I'll stop but if you're going through cancer, DRINK water and stay hydrated. There's also a bunch of juices that will help you out. I drink lots of lemonade as a palate cleanser and lemons are also good for keeping hydrated. I have mango, and orange/carrot blends. So you don't have to drink just water (I also heard that overdrinking just water can hurt you so switching up is good. Just stay hydrated before and after treatment. )

Well that's all for now. Now I have to make calls cos I'm supposed to go to tomorrow and don't want anything messing my trip up.

[kristenbrady]

Advice From Those Who Lived During The Depression

There is a common theme running through all the following depression-age frugal ideas, and it is this: waste ABSOLUTELY nothing. In an era of scarcity, no one could waste anything. In sort of a way, it was a lot easier back then: products were built to last, and these products were built to be fixed. By the way, if you enjoy this article and want to read more articles on saving money tips please feel free to sign up here to catch every story when I publish! ⭐

Today, products are made to be wasted. However, it does not mean we need to buy into the waste/consume cycle. It merely means we must be a little savvier with how we spend our paycheck and what we do with the items we purchase. Below is a list of 38 tips from the Depression era:

1. Purchase Less — Occasionally it feels as if the more you purchase, the more that you need. Having fewer things and spending less money ceases that cycle. I have cut down on the things I buy. I now have five summer shirts, five winter shirts, two winter jackets, three jeans, and five pairs of shoes. And maybe about three nice outfits on hand for special occasions. That’s it.

The New Age of DIY

Don’t work extra hard to earn more money, learn how to save money by doing it yourself!

medium.com

3. Make all your stuff — Do you need a brand new bed frame or dining table? Why not attempt to make your own? Have you checked out the Ana White site? There are a lot of free, amazing projects showing a lady as someone capable with a saw and hammer!

4. Repair — It is much too easy to throw out what is broken and invest in a new one. However, if possible, and feasible, fix it instead of replacing it.

Video courtesy: Sustainably Vegan- 100 THINGS TO REUSE OR REPURPOSE YOU HAVE TO TRY

5. Repurpose Reuse — During the Great Depression, nothing was tossed out. Bread bags were reused as garbage bags or freezer bags. Old clothing was cut into new clothing or sewn into quilts, or cut into rags (they, of course, saved the zippers and buttons). Boxes, jars, and containers were repurposed for storage.

Priceless Blessings

Christian Historical Fiction

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6. Don’t use disposables — Disposables make you spend money on the same product every week. Reusable products mean you only have to pay for something once, which saves you money over time.

Video courtesy: Easy Sewing for Beginners- How to Mend Rips in Clothes

7. Mend clothes — Make them last as long as you can by line drying when possible and following washing directions.

8. Sew your stuff — If you make your clothes, bedspreads, linen, etc., you will be more than likely to have the desire to make them last as long as you can after putting in all of that work.

10. Use an apron — Aprons protect your clothing from stains, which helps them last longer.

11. Learn one or two handicrafts — Handicrafts make helpful hobbies, which avoids boredom and winds up with something very useful in the end.

Video courtesy: Doctor Mike — 10 Natural Remedies That Actually Work

12. Use home remedies — I am not against modern-day medicine, it is a life-saving, wonderful thing, and we use it when it’s needed. However, there is also a place for home remedies, and they complement modern-day medicine when it pertains to managing symptoms.

This Is How I Save Hundreds of Dollars on My Grocery Bill

These homemade cleaning products are so easy and cheap to make!

medium.com

13. Use homemade cleaners — Usually, homemade, natural cleaners are just as effective as chemical ones; however, they’re cheaper and decrease the toxic load inside your home.

14. Use hot water bottles — Less expensive method of warming the bed and staying warm in the wintertime.

16. Spend more time outdoors — Is it too hot indoors? Take all of your indoor work outside and sit in the shade.

17. Wear outfits more than one time — If your outfit isn’t dirty, wear it again before you wash and decrease the number of washes done.

18. Wash clothes weekly instead of daily — Having a weekly laundry day might seem a little outdated; however, during a period when folks wash clothes and towels every day, washing items such as linen and towels on a weekly basis instead of a daily basis will decrease the number of washes.

19. Bake other food while the oven is already on — Make the most of your oven and toss in something else while you are already baking some food.

Video courtesy: Howcast — How to Make Jams & Preserves

20. Preserve — Freeze vegetables and fruit or make jams and other types of preserves so that the harvest of today does not go to waste and it’s possible to make the most of everything out of season.

22. Wash dishes by hand — Washing inside the dishwasher might save water; however, it’ll cost more electricity. Instead, you should hand wash your dishes in a little bit of water to save.

23. Food foraging — Feed yourself free of charge with plants growing around the neighborhood. Before eating them, be certain that you know how to identify plants.

24. Scrape every last bit from a jar — Small rubber spatulas are the ideal tool for that. Making some jam shakes with the last little bit inside the jar is one other alternative.

25. Mix by hand — or chop or grate. Use a little elbow grease and save on the need for the gym, expensive appliances, and electricity.

Video courtesy: Frugal Money Saver — Frugal Living Learn How to Cook From Scratch! Tips for Stocking Your Pantry! Cream Of Soup!

26. Cook food from scratch — Consume healthy food that is less expensive than packaged and processed food.

27. Make your own soap — The majority of soap from the grocery store includes chemicals and is stripped of glycerine. Create your own higher-quality soap. If you use soap scraps, it’ll cost very little.

28. Always dry soaps — Whether purchased or handmade, soap will last longer if it’s dried. Put your soap in your clothing cupboard so it can dry, ward off silverfish, and give your clothing a fresh smell.

30. Curl hair using rags — Rather than using a curling iron, use rags to curl hair, which will save on electricity.

31. Squeeze the last bit of toothpaste out — Roll the toothpaste tube to use up every drop. Along the same lines, with a Q-tip you can also get out the last of your lipstick. Cut the shampoo bottle open or add some water to use the last bit of shampoo.

32. Try to shower less — Why take a shower on those days you spent all day loafing around the house? People have not always had the luxury of taking a shower on a daily basis. Sponge baths save water and are sufficient at getting clean on most days.

Video courtesy: AllMatters — How to use a Menstrual Cup — In-depth Instructional Video

33. Take advantage of reusable feminine products — Thanks to period undies and menstrual cups, it’s possible to choose products that are better for our environment, save money in the long run, and are more comfortable than their disposable versions.

34. Take advantage of the library in your neighborhood — Your local library offers so much more than books. You can stream movies, view DVDs, stream music, and listen to audiobooks, use their computers, borrow board games and puzzles, and attend classes. And more importantly, you can use those books to learn some new skills.

36. Free entertainment — Rather than spending your time at the cafes, shops, theme parks or in front of the Xbox or television, frugal entertainment involves telling stories, reading, playing board games, enjoying a day at the beach, having a picnic in the park, and hanging out with friends.

37. Grow most of your own food — Even just a couple of herbs in a windowsill can be an excellent start towards supplementing your grocery budget with your own produce. Organic food sources come at a premium; however, organic, homegrown food saves your budget.

Video courtesy: Growit Buildit — The Simplest Easy Method To Compost Piles!

38. Composting — Composting your scraps to add to the vegetable garden saves money and is the ultimate in recycling.

🌻Kristen is a contributor on Medium. Sign up here to catch every story when she publishes.

🧡Follow Kristen on Substack: https://substack.com/@kristenb

Originally posted on Medium

[trenttrendspotter]

Compostable Beauty

The beauty and cosmetics sphere has received enormous backlash for the constant waste it produces and has been heavily encouraged to seek alternative, eco-friendly options. In 2018 in the United States alone, almost 7.9 billion units of rigid plastic were created just for beauty and personal care products, and  the problem is becoming worse. This is a source of pollution that needs to be addressed.

At the same time, 58% of U.S. consumers state they would pay more for sustainable versions of their regular personal care products, while 56% would do the same for their beauty products. The good news is that the beauty industry is attempting to shift toward more sustainable options with the development of compostable formulations and packaging that serve as alternatives to synthetic fibers and single-use plastics.

Compostable items are essential because they break down in the same way organic elements like fruits and vegetables do, producing humus (the richest, most valuable part of the soil) when composted. It’s a step beyond biodegradable.

As composting takes hold of beauty care, more and more brands are coming out of the woodwork with new and improved products. They’re rethinking what’s possible in beauty, from sheet masks to makeup to hair accessories to everyday use products. These products are increasingly being made from natural materials, such as plant fibers, which can potentially break down in soil, leaving behind no harmful residues.  

In addition to being better for the environment, industry leaders have realized compostable formulas may also be better for our skin. Since they are made from natural materials, they may be less likely to cause irritation or adverse reactions, making them a good option for those with sensitive skin.  

Guilt-free Sheet Masks  

Masque Bar has introduced a zero-waste compostable sheet mask. This brand previously brought Korean beauty products to the North American market; it is  now leading the innovation once again to improve consumers’ eco-conscious habits with clean products that integrate sustainability effortlessly into their lifestyles. The compostable sheet mask moisturizes and refines the skin barrier. They feature a clean ingredient profile and are compostable due to a composition of up of natural fibers. The masks are 99% natural, vegan, gluten-free, paraben-free, sulfate-free, cruelty-free and Leaping Bunny Certified.

Eco-conscious Everyday Use  

LastObject is a company on a mission to end the need for single-use items. LastObject makes durable and reusable products. The brand uses materials like compostable wood fibers, cardboard and organic cotton in its product design. From swabs to tissues to pads and more, this B Corp-certified brand disrupts the single-use industry with alternative solutions.  

Package Free provides products that use zero or minimal packaging and eliminate single-use plastics from everyday routines. It also ships 100% plastic-free. All of the brand’s products—from hair care to skin care to body care and everything in between—can be reused, refilled, composted or recycled. Since its launch in 2017, the brand has reportedly diverted 132 million plastic bags, 3.8 billion plastic bottles and 674,000 plastic razors from landfills.

Alternative First Aid  

Nutricare focuses on making better, natural alternatives to existing products using premium and sustainable ingredients and processes. One of its brands is Patch, which makes compostable adhesive bandages made of 100% organic bamboo fibers to provide antioxidant, skin soothing properties, natural coconut oil to reduce inflammation as well regenerate skin cells, aloe vera to heal the skin and activated charcoal to help draw out toxins. Patch bandages provide hypoallergenic wound care for sensitive skin that’s plastic-free, latex-free, and 100% compostable and eco-friendly.  

Bionanopol Makeup    

EcoTools has created beauty and self-care products that fit into today’s mindful-oriented lifestyles. From compostable makeup blenders to crystal face rollers o a variety of practical bath brushes and accessories, its products are not only effective, but also vegan-friendly, cruelty-free, and made with recycled and renewable materials. EcoTools’ compostable bioblender makeup sponges are made with only five ingredients: water, corn, bionanopol (biobased polyurethane, the secret to making it compostable), a natural preservative and natural pigment. The packaging is FSC-certified and printed with soy ink, as well.  

Bamboo-based  

Elate Beauty is a leader in zero waste makeup with their refillable, recyclable and compostable products, including mascaras, lipsticks and lip gloss are contained in a recyclable inner tube and bamboo outer casing. Bamboo is the basis of most of the brand’s products. The material is sustainably sourced and not chemically treated. Products come in tin containers with small magnets that fit easily into their reusable bamboo palettes. When finished, consumers recycle the tin container and replace it with a refill that is shipped in a seed paper package that can be planted to grow wildflowers. This capsule beauty brand focuses on minimizing waste and maximizing joy.  

Once users are done using compostable items, they can toss them into a stylish compost bin, called Bamboozle, made from repurposed bamboo. This eco-friendly houseware line prioritizes a cleaner Earth with convenience and quality. Its high-end, affordable bin looks great on the counter and solves the messy, unappealing aesthetic of the compost bin conundrum. These products are durable with a ceramic-like look and feel and trendy colors ideal for every space.  

Paper Packaged Makeup  

River Organics is the brainchild of an art historian and a natural product chemist who came together to create a waste-free makeup brand. The  products reportedly have minimal environmental impact. All are packaged in compostable, plastic-free paper tubes and are mailed with recyclable, eco-friendly materials. Even the labels are made with natural fiber, free of bleaching and chemicals, which allows them to be composted as well.  

Konjac Plant Fiber Body Sponge  

Everist believes it’s time to rethink everything when it comes to beauty; that’s just what it did with its charcoal compostable konjac body sponge. This product can replace single-use cloths or makeup wipes. It’s made of 100% natural konjac plant fiber and infused with detoxifying bamboo charcoal powder. Konjac is naturally alkaline, helping balance the skin’s pH as well as exfoliating and soothing the skin. This brand believes eco can be for everyone, but only with thoughtful design and results that are an upgrade, not a compromise.  

Mushroom Mycelium  

Ecovative pioneered the art and science of growing complete materials with mushroom mycelium to provide consumers with home-compostable alternatives. Its Forager foam is made from pure AirMycelium, which replaces plastic, leather and other unsustainable products. It’s a high-performance foam that can be tailored to a variety of needs for multiple industries and product applications. After their use is through, they dissolve into Earth-friendly, compost-ready organic matter in 45 days.    

Overall, the rise of compostable brands reflects a growing awareness of the need to make more sustainable choices in our daily lives, as well as a desire to take better care of our skin without harming the planet.  

[chalogreen]

Some Eco-Friendly Kitchen Cleaning Ideas To Consider

Dirt and grime on kitchen cabinets, counters and appliances are an absolute mess. Over time, they accumulate everywhere inside your kitchen until it turns into the dirtiest place ever. Hence, making kitchen cleaning an important part of your day-to-day routine. However, keeping the factor of the environment in mind is of equal importance. Gone are the days, when your bin would be full of piles of paper towels, containers of dryer sheets and Windex once you were done with your cleaning spree. Now, eco-friendly kitchen cleaning is the trend. In fact, going green with your kitchen cleaning is easy and simple with these amazing tips. Read: Ways To Make Your Kitchen More Eco-Friendly

1. Buy more plants

Put an end to using those fragrant aerosol air fresheners! Instead, fill your kitchen with more aromatic plants to make the air naturally refreshing. Interestingly, the more plants you have in your kitchen, the less the smell of trash and cooking is going to stay. Hence, ensure that your kitchen is loaded with oxygen-supplying plants. Aloe vera, spider plants and chrysanthemums would be some of the options. You can find plenty of other flora matching the style and aesthetics of your kitchen.

2. Use as many natural cleaning agents as possible

Say no to various over-the-counter cleaning products. Instead, embrace natural kitchen cleaners to avoid unwanted health issues and other hazardous consequences. Finding natural kitchen cleaning agents don’t have to be a tiresome task when they are available in your own pantry. Below are a few ingredients that you can safely use for your eco-friendly kitchen cleaning spree. - Olive Oil: Olive oil is an excellent component to polish wooden cabinets and picks up grime and dirt. You can also mix an equal quantity of vinegar with it to make the stainless appliances squeaky clean - Baking Soda: Has your kitchen come to be filled with grime and stains? Then, opt for baking soda as it’s a wonderful scrubbing agent. To get the best results, combine it with lemon juice or white vinegar or maybe both. - Lemon Juice: Get over the unwanted grease in your kitchen and disinfect every nook and cranny of it naturally. Use lemon juice as and when needed to do that. - White Vinegar: White vinegar is yet another natural ingredient to disinfect your kitchen. You can use it to remove any debris or dirt covering the design of your kitchen floor. In case, your kitchen flooring is made of granite, stone, marble or hardwood floor, then avoid white vinegar at all costs. Apart from that, you can also use essential oils for disinfecting your kitchen and making it more aromatic than ever. Pine, rosemary and tea tree are the most popular choices. Sea salt is again a nature-friendly component that kitchen owners can use for scrubbing purposes.

3. Bid goodbye to paper towels

Paper is reusable, then how come paper towels are harmful to the environment? The fact is paper towels aren’t necessarily a nature-friendly product. Just the way their manufacturing process is hazardous, many trees have also been cut for making them. This means more carbon is released because of deforestation, aside from production factories emitting harmful gases. Hence, using paper towels means taking your next step towards harming mother nature even more.

4. Alternatives to paper towels

So, how can you substitute paper towels in the best possible way? The answer is bamboo paper towels! They can be amazing alternatives since they are reusable and washable at the same time. You can reuse them by simply giving them a good rinse and hanging them dry

5. Repurpose and reuse as much as possible

Think twice before disposing of packages and wrappers in your kitchen. Are you throwing away those empty bottles, jars and trays? Then, consider reusing them for a lot of purposes. Say, for instance, you can reuse those egg cartons and plant trees on each of their individual cups. You can even cut them out and place them in the kitchen according to your tastes and preferences. Similarly, plastic containers can be used to store food leftovers and paper bags can be used as covers to decorate and wrap birthday gifts. You can also get unconventional and create your own DIY ideas to reuse your kitchen trash.

6. Try out composing kitchen waste

More than half of the waste that is created in a conventional home comes from the kitchen. So, composting them is the best way to recycle them and contribute to your eco-friendly kitchen cleaning efforts. Doing so will not only prevent the food litter, garbage bags and dustbin trashes from overflowing the landfills, but will also help you curb your carbon footprint.

Green kitchen cleaning is on the rise!

As eco-friendly kitchen cleaning is becoming more popular, homeowners are leaving no stone unturned to adopt this green lifestyle. Aside from using natural agents to clean your kitchen, you can make your kitchen even more sustainable by trusting a brand like Chalo Green Products. Here you will get a range of environmentally-safe products catered to your specific needs. Contact us to know more about how you can contribute to reducing your carbon footprint with our products!!

The article was originally posted on: SOME ECO-FRIENDLY KITCHEN CLEANING IDEAS TO CONSIDER

[campfirepremiums]

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS “AWAY”

There is no such thing as ‘away’. When we throw anything away it must go somewhere.”- Annie Leonard

That really hit me this morning.  I learned in our parental “drug awareness and prevention” training at our high school that this is a really easy way to see if your kids are doing anything wrong. Check their garbage cans. Teens (and people in general) seem to think once it goes into that garbage can it is gone. Like we are tossing our garbage into a black hole. The old “out of sight out of mind” thinking.

I was cleaning out under my kitchen sink a few years ago. And 90% of it was plastic bags. Hundreds of them. They shocked me into using reusable shopping totes. I see the eye rolls from the people behind me in line. I don’t care. I am doing my part in not contributing to landfills. They are easy to use- once unpacked I hang them on the doorknob, or when my car is in the garage I toss them onto the hood. Then I keep them in my trunk. Always ready to use. Simple. And no more under the sink clutter.

I don’t understand the throw away society we live in. We have some of my grandfathers old tools and garden machinery. We repair it and keep using it. Things were built to last. If it broke, fix it. Today everyone seems to just throw it away and get a new one. There is no “away”. Where do we think our garbage goes?  Have you driven past a landfill lately? They are massive. Everyone should make a trip to one in their lifetime. Just to see the waste.

Did you know a plastic water bottle takes 450 YEARS to decompose? Let that sink in. 450 years. Recycle them. They can be made into so many different things. It is easy to do. Or use a reusable water bottle. Again, super easy to do. I keep an infuser bottle (our Griffin) on my desk all the time. I clean it out and refill it every day. Easy.  All those coffee cups Starbucks and others hand out every day- they do not go “away”. Use reusable travel mugs.  We all have them- piled up in a cabinet somewhere. Take them out and use them. Buy a baby bottle brush to wash them out. It takes less than a minute.

Lets end the throwing away thinking. Lets try to reuse and recycle. Lets realize that “away” isn’t a place but an excuse.

 love the earth, recycle, recycling vs reuse, reuse

    

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