#carrion-coda

[bunny-lovers]

1 3 7 for the ask game!!!

(@cruising-thru-the-starz)

Hope you & your f/os have a great day & thank you for the ask! 😊 @missnaunet @getas-regina @goodmorningawfulbye @carrion-coda

1) What’s your and your f/o’s comfort food?

My comfort food is pizza & Rumi's comfort food is carrot cake.

2) Do you have any weekly traditions? (Watching a movie together, going out to dinner, etc.)

Yes, we do!

3) Do you have matching outfits?

Yes, we definitely have matching outfits.

4) Do you have a bookshelf at home? What’s in it?

Yes, we have graphic novels,

5) How does your f/o get along with your friends? How do you get along with their friends?

She gets along well with my friends, even though, I don't have a lot of friends. I get along well with Rumi's friends as well.

6) Is there an animal you or your f/o relate to?

Yes, I relate to a cat while Rumi is relate to a white rabbit.

7) Does your f/o collect anything?

No, she doesn't collect anything.

8) How many pictures do you have of each other? Of both of you?

Quite a lot of each other & both of her & I.

9) How does your f/o text? (With a lot of emojis, monotone, perfect grammar, etc)

She uses a few emojis & perfect grammar.

10) Does your f/o leave you cute voicemails?

Yes, she does 🥰

11) Do you stay at home or go out more?

We go out more, but it depends on the weather.

12) Does your f/o write?

Yes, she does write & her handwriting it nicer than mine.

[help-an-alter]

Heyyyy

Back again! We kinda need some names and pronouns for some (William) Afton Fragments, we have a few, and they wanna be different from each other but they don't know how

Ok, one is based on Glamrock Bonnie, one is a corpse, one is a glamrock oc, one is a springtrap, and we have a springbonnie

Sorry if that's a lot, they've just kinda been fighting lately, and we wanna settle this

If it's definitely too much, you can just pick and choose which ones to do, and sorry again

@galaxialauthority

Hello, this one took us awhile to complete. Honestly, most of the pronouns and some of the names can be used for any of them, so i recommend all of them taking a look at more than just their section. If these aren’t what you’re looking for, feel free to send in another ask with more specific details.

Glamrock Bonnie

names: harper, ronnie, alani, beau, terry, alfie, leo, galvin, billie, bowie, bruce, boston, cooper, bliss, blue, bo, button(s), easter, galaxy, vega, comet, caelum, draco, gale, hopper

pronouns: glam/glams/glamself, glam/our/glamourself, bun/buns/bunself, ro/rock/rockself, guitar/guitars/guitarself, col/lor/colorself, blu/blue/blueself, bo/bows/bowself, haunt/haunted/hauntedself, bonbon/bonbons/bonnieself, hy/hym/hymself, dest/roy/destroyself, wither/withers/witherself, scrap/scraps/scrapself, per/form/perform(er)self, shatter/shattered/shatteredself,

Corpse

names: carcass, cadaver, carrion, mummy, decay, destroy, burn(t), ghost, morgue, bones, crow, crowbait, bait, stitch, socket, graves, elegy, crypt, mortis, atropos, thanatos, grim, mandos, scythe, mourn(e), sickle, nocturne, dread(ed)

pronouns: rot/rots/rotself, dec/ay/decayself, gut/guts/gutself, rip/rips/ripself, tooth/teeth/toothself (alt. teethself), flesh/flesh/fleshself, tor/torn/tornself, burn/burnt/burntself, horror/horrors/horrorself, crypt/cryptid/cryptidself, bite/bites/biteself, gore/gores/goreself, bleed/bleeds/bleedself (alt. bloodself)

Glamrock OC

names: names: hendrix, jagger, jett, elliot, creed, duff, henley, joan, acrylic, alby/albie, carmen, coda, cypress, dancer, disco, eko, exodus, fable, florian, friso, genesis, glyph, jynx/jinx, kit, lake, magic, marley, omega, patches, stitches

pronouns: glam/rock/glamrockself, punk/punks/punkself, ruin/ruined/ruin(ed)self, breach/breaches/breachself, paint/paints/paintself, spike/spikes/spikeself, mas/cot/mascotself, tech/nology/technogicalself, ani/tron/animatronicself, gli/glitch/glitchself, break/breaks/breakself, fun/funs/funself, party/parties/partyself

Springtrap

names: spring(y), atherton, caldwell, pascal, ansa, casimir/kazimir, seth, apophis, alecto, discord, ruin, havoc, blaze, eclipse, anarchy, omega, ash, crusher, bones, skeleton, end(er), phantom, ragnarok, abaddon, abandon, erebus, krampus, kronos, lucifer, metal, iron, decay

pronouns: spring/lock/springlockself, bone/bones/boneself, pha/phan/phantomself, twi/twist/twistedself, scrap/trap/scraptrapself, gli/glitch/glitch(trap)self, rot/rotten/rottenself, bro/ken/brokenself, greed/greeds/greedself, af/afton/aftonself, dam/damage/damagedself, wire/wires/wireself, tatter/tattered/tatteredself, hunt/hunting/huntingself, hallucinate/hallucinations/hallucinationself, fault/faulty/faultyself, night/mare/nightmareself, sal/vage/salvageself

Spring Bonnie

names: springs, bow/boe/bo, bowie, goldie, bon, bonbon, clank, orpheus, edison, destro, phobos, phoenix, gold, goldie, rabbit, mal, hare, malhare, glitch, glitchtrap, mel, melhare, mascot, sunny, yellow, sunshine, plush, plushie

pronouns: spring/spring/springself, enter/tain/entertainself (alt. entertainerself), rabbit/rabbits/rabbitself, yell/low/yellowself, gold/den/goldenself, dine/diner/dinerself, lure/lured/luredself, end/skel/endoskeletonself (alt. endoself, skeletonself), im/pale/impaleself, de/ceased/deceasedself, possess/possessed/possess(ed)self, bow/tie/bowtieself, trap/trapped/trappedself (alt. trapself), dec/ay/decayself, burn/burned/burn(ed)self, burn/trap/burntrapself

[grigori77]

2023 in Music - My Top 5 Favourite Albums

5.  LONELY THE BRAVE – What We Do to Feel

The alt-rockers from Cambridge, UK have completed their reinvention after their post-sophomore record shake-ups with what is arguably their best album to date, a canny mixture of moody, anthemic guitar-heavy muscle and haunting introspective beauty.  Enthusiastically gruff vocalist Mark Trotter definitely seems to have really earned his place now after making an impressive debut on 2021’s similarly excellent The Hope List, taking what was already a strong band producing great music and helping to transform them into something truly special.

Standout tracks:  Long Way, The Lens, Our Sketch Out, Victim, In the Well, Eventide, Unseen, The Bear

4.  HOLDING ABSENCE – The Noble Art of Self Destruction

Looks like it’s third album’s the charm for one of the very best bands to have emerged from the 2010’s second-gen post-hardcore alt rock scene (which also produced my absolute favourites of all, Don Broco … but that’s a different story).  Following up in FINE FORM INDEED from their already MAGNIFICENT second album The Greatest Mistake of My Life, Cardiff’s (no longer) best kept musical secret have crafted a streamlined powerhouse of a record that’s all killer/no filler, perfectly showcasing their ubiquitous double-threat of blistering guitars and lead singer Lucas Woodland’s spectacular, nakedly honest vocals.

Standout tracks:  Head Prison Blues, A Crooked Melody, False Dawn, Scissors, Honey Moon, Her Wings, These New Dreams, The Angel In the Marble

3.  HOZIER – Unreal Unearth

The rightly beloved Irish singer-songwriter has returned with what is arguably HIS VERY BEST record to date, a brilliant ever-shifting musical landscape incorporating subtle, spellbinding Celtic-flavoured gentleness, ear-wormy pop-accented bops and bravely inventive experimentation.  The result is the year’s most effortlessly SOOTHING musical offering, which has done wonders to cheer me up every time I’ve put it on after a rough day.  But I still miss “the woo” …

Standout tracks:  De Selby (Parts 1 & 2), Francesca, I, Carrion (Icarian), Eat Your Young, Damage Gets Done (featuring Brandi Carlile), Who We Are, Butchered Tongue, Anything But, Abstract (Psychopomp), Unknown / Nth, First Light

2.  ENTER SHIKARI – A Kiss For the Whole World

The craziest rock band to have EVER come out of St Albans continues to blow me away with their fiendishly eclectic mixture of edgy post-hardcore grit and anarchic electronic-edged musical MADNESS.  This is BY FAR their most streamlined record to date (I can’t believe it’s little more than HALF AN HOUR LONG!), but in some ways also their most rewardingly EXPANSIVE, Rou Reynolds and co. once again playing in an arena of massive themes and making us think as much as they make us ROCK OUT.  More of this please, lads!

Standout tracks:  A Kiss For the Whole World x, (pls) Set Me On Fire, It Hurts, Dead Wood, Bloodshot, Bloodshot (Coda), Goldfish, Giant Pacific Octopus (I Don’t Know You Anymore)

1.  SLEEP TOKEN – Take Me Back to Eden

It’s fascinating to think that just a year ago I’d barely even HEARD of Sleep Token, and certainly wasn’t at all FAMILIAR with anything they’d done.  Then they dropped The Summoning and everything changed … less than 12 months later this is BY FAR the best record I’ve heard ALL YEAR, and as far as I’m concerned anyone who DOESN’T rate it at the very top of their own 2023 list clearly wasn’t paying attention (I’m looking as YOU, Kerrang!).  The mysterious Vessel and his equally unknowable fellow collective have crafted a work of unrivalled MAJESTY here, a little over an hour of pure sonic MAGIC which constantly flips between the hardest possible progressive metal and a dizzying myriad of other genres from its attention-grabbing opening to the heart-wrenching closer.  The end result is not only the best album of the year but a very strong candidate indeed for, potentially, my album of the DECADE.  Worship indeed …

Standout tracks:  Chokehold, The Summoning, Granite, Vore, Ascensionism, Are You Really Okay?, The Apparition, Take Me Back to Eden, Euclid

The ones that didn’t quite make the cut:

STONESIDE. – God of the Mountain (the Texan prog metalheads amaze us once again with their long-awaited debut album); PVRIS – Evergreen (multitalented musical genius Lynn Gunn delivers her most eclectic and full-on electronic alt-rock record to date); TESSERACT – War of Being (the latest offering from the endlessly inventive Milton Keynes prog metal maniacs just might be their best yet, and it’s DEFINITELY their most memorable); BABYMETAL – The Other One (quite possibly the greatest metal band to ever come out of Japan have done it again with another stone-cold banger of a record); STAIND – Confessions of the Fallen (one of the greatest secret weapons of the American post-grunge era makes their long-awaited return after a 12-year absence with one of their best albums to date)

Honourable mention:

EXPLORING BIRDSONG – Dancing In the Face of Danger

Much like with Sleep Token before them, I was genuinely ignorant of this emerging prog rock band from Liverpool up until mid-November, when Kerrang! Radio introduced me to them through their haunting cover of Deftones’ Diamond Eyes.  Then I did what I always do, see what else they’ve got knocking about on YouTube, and within two videos I was LOST.  Their second EP is completely fucking AMAZING, a magnificent musical adventure of pure imagination and experimental GENIUS which goes a long way to prove you don’t actually NEED guitars to rock out, lead-singer and pianist Lynsey Ward doing a genuinely beautiful job with just her keys.  All five tracks are absolute FIRE, but the undeniable standouts are Bear the Weight and the killer closer, No Longer We Lie.

[measuringbliss]

Spider-Man: Comics Recommendations (The Seventies, Second Half)

MASTERPOST

Following my guide for the sixties (here!) and the first half of the seventies (there!), here's a list of what I personally recommend reading from the years 1975-1979, although the format changes a bit due to... complications. It's been a long time coming, but here's the post!

As previously, we go chronological.

The Jackal

What better way to start than with the fallout of what happened these last few years? Brace yourself for one of the key sagas. It's funny, it's harrowing, it's a mess, it's essential, and it's in ASM 138-150.

The storyline has an essential epilogue in the first few pages of 151, so be sure to read that one too! You should also probably check out the entire issue, as well as 152. They have stunning art, and the second one is essentially an issue full of fighting, but we get nice development for the cast. Also: the art is gorgeous, dammit!

2. The Start of Len Wein's run

Len Wein's here, and with him, we get pretty much none of the brilliance of past issues. It's mostly inconsequential smaller stories that you could probably skip. I recommend reading it all to keep up on the personal drama and skip the fight scenes, but if you want specific recommendations, here they are:

ASM 153-156 (great and bonkers) is important. If you're interested in how it continued, by all means keep reading, otherwise, jump to 163-164 (a good Kingpin plot!) and 167-169 (soap).

While you're there, make a small detour to Avengers Annual 7 and Marvel Two-In-One Annual 2 for a strong Thanos storyline.

You can also check out the new Spectacular Spider-Man issues (1-15). While they're not stellar by any means, they give some nice stuff and you get a continuation of Flash's Vietnam storyline. Check out issues 9 & 10 in particular, as they introduce my beloved White Tiger and are a high point of the run.

3. Len Wein's Big Final

Time to finish that run! Go read ASM 173-175, then you won't be able to stop reading anyway, so read ASM 176-180. That's it! That's the high point. Onto Wolfman!

4. Peter's Graduation

Peter graduates! Big Wheel! Soap opera! Character setup! A lot happens in ASM 181-186.

Read SSM 19-21 if you want more of White Tiger, and ASM 188-189 if you want more Peter/Betty. Finish the storyline with 190 if you really want to, but let's say it's... convenient.

5. Carrion

An important villain arrives in SSM 25-31. The storyline is decompressed, action-heavy, but definitely climactic.

Check out SSM 32-34 afterwards, it's not groundbreaking, but it's solid.

6. Black Cat

She's here! No need to introduce her. It's not a perfect batch, but it's good. ASM 194-195 it is!

7. Coda

ASM 196-200 is the culmination of the past 200 (and some!) issues. I think it's not very good, but it's still important, and it's still a conclusion.

Overall, these two runs have some great elements, but suffer from too little effective drama and some ridiculous contrivances. I don't think they should be skipped, but they're far from perfect.

FIY, in the early 80s, Spider-Man still struggles with the end of Wolfman's run, then O'Neil's run, but thankfully Roger Stern takes the mantle and so far is a joy to read.

[gyokujyn]

How about "If I had a heart" for the WIP game?

This is a series of codas to several season 5 episodes of Supernatural focusing on Lucifer tracking Sam and trying to get him to say yes. It's very one-sided Samifer darkfic with lots of psychological and body horror. I'm not really sure why I stopped writing this one, but I have a few more codas to write before it's complete. Here's a 300-ish word snippet of how I imagined Lucifer's trueform.

Something shifted and there was a sound not unlike the beating of wings. The very texture of the air changed and the darkness grew thick and solidified. Obscure and tenebrous, a form began to take shape–first just a mass of limbs pressing out of nowhere, too many fingertips on too many hands splitting the shadows, undulating and writhing, sometimes twitching violently. A leg burst forth, bent backwards at the knee, then buckled back into the roiling core. From behind it flared six gaunt, arching pinions, sweeping up to the ceiling and pouring to the floor, melting there into the shadows of the room. Each appendage seemed to drip with chunks of shaded carrion from every surface to a pool of shadow at what he’d call its base. He could make out the gilded edges of lines that might be scales or feathers or something unrecognizable all along each limb, like the boundaries of the shadow had worn thin and a molten, auric core threatened to leak through. At the center of the creature hung what he knew instinctively to be its face, a vague, shrouded form with countless glowing orbs inset at all angles and burning slowly like dying embers.

For a while, it was quiet, again, the shadows churning in silence, until Sam realized he’d stopped breathing. He gasped in air suddenly, his back arching with the breath. At that, the creature moved, too. What he’d decided was its head tipped, tilting unnaturally to the side, like it might just twist off. He didn’t know how or why, but he got the distinct impression that it was waiting for something. It was watching him and not just watching, but pinning him in place with its burning eyes. Hunting. No.

Smiling.

[sunevial]

For the writing request, can you do space boi Coda meeting fashion boi Valafar?

Normally on their trips through the candy store portal, the five children from the orphanage stuck to each other like glue. Personal feelings aside, the worlds they ended up jumping to were usually dangerous even with the extra magic and weapons, so there was usually safety in numbers. This time, though, they had plopped down inside a city with buildings made of glass and metal. There were people, sure, but they seemed to be a number of different species, and ones that looked nothing like the humans and elves and orcs of home. But a city was a city, so they all decided to split up for the day, though Lix made sure to keep an eye on Carrion. 

Valafar, for his part, ducked down a couple of streets, trying to figure out the way to the fashion district. He could feel a couple of eyes on him, and who wouldn’t look at someone as fashionable as him, but it was a nice for people to be staring at him for the right reasons this time. These people seemed to be of multiple different species, some looking more like humans, and others a bit more like humanoid monsters in picture books. Almost all of them had strange metal glasses or eyepieces, some of them blinking and some of them displaying pictures. 

He knew they couldn’t stay, and the chances of that eyepiece staying with him when they left was pretty small, but by Aphrodite’s heart, he was going to get one by the end of this day or die trying.

There was just one problem. This world didn’t seem to have signs in universal standard common.

That was certainly quite rude of the people in charge.

Pulling out his hand mirror, Valafar started fixing his hair while channeling a little bit of divine power. “Lady of love, I know I’m far away from home, but could you send me a friend to help me find my way?” he asked, brushing a bit of blonde hair away from his horns. He wasn’t expecting a direct answer to the question, that’s not how his lady worked, but there was no better time to make himself presentable. If someone was to find him, he wanted to look his best.

“Who are you talking to?” 

Peeling his eyes away from the mirror, Valafar turned his head to the voice. Standing there was a boy probably around his age, ears curled like anglerfish and fingers webbed like a frog. His smile was wide, his eyes shined and almost seemed to sparkle, and his hair looked soft. Little blue lines ran across his face and arms, complimenting his shirt and pants perfectly. In other words, a perfectly good friend, and almost as good a taste in fashion as himself. 

“Well, you now,” Valafar said with an equally wide smile, tucking the mirror away for now and turning on the charm. “And it’s nice to meet you!”

“You too!” he said with a laugh, holding out a hand. “I’m Coda, what’s your name?”

He took it with his non-shielded hand. “Valafar. I’m kinda new here.”

“Hey, me too! I’m just visiting for a few days on this planet,” Coda said, eyes brightening as he pulled out a strange disk that quickly projected what looked like a large plate with wings. “I’m from this ship, the Astral Compass. What’s your ship like?”

“Oh, I didn’t come here on a ship,” Valafar replied, standing on his tiptoes to look the image over as best as he could. “But that sounds really cool. I think my brother was born on a ship.”

Coda looked at him with curious eyes, pressing a button and making the image vanish into thin air. “Then how’d you get here if not by a ship?”

“Magic.”

“Ohhhh,” Coda said, smiling wider and jumping in the air. As he did, his shoes began glowing and emitting a small pulse, propelling him high in the air until he was floating. “That’s even cooler! I’ve only met a couple of people who can do magic, what’s it like?”

Valafar thought for a second. “It feels warm. Kind of like a hug for someone you love,” he said. “So in that way, you’ve met a lot of people who can do magic.”

That got a giggle out of the space boy. “You’ll have to tell me more, I don’t know a lot about magic,” Coda replied, floating back down to the ground.  

“If I do that, can you help me get around?” Valafar asked with the sweetest of smiles. “I can’t read the signs here, and I want to get some presents for my siblings.”

“That sounds like a fair trade to me,” Coda said, offering his hand. “Come on, I know a great place to start for presents.”

Valafar took it, and before long, he was running down the city streets laughing like he hadn’t in weeks.

If that wasn’t an answer to his prayers, he didn’t know what was.

[clanhaven]

do you... have any favorite children

Hmm....I love all my children in different ways whether they be from my nests or adopted. I have the honor and pleasure of watching them grow and change every day, no matter how old they get. Even now I am caring for a nest, awaiting what new little adventures will come next, as well as caring for those found or gifted to us from other clans. Little Cobalt who has just grown in his flight feathers and fierce rambunctiousness to match, Sanjita who curls around me like a lei after a day of exploring and learning all she can, Morpho, (A shy little one) brother of Violet, another I raised with the help of my mate, Tess- as well as Nestol and Snicker- who themselves still call me ‘Mom.’Tempest is hard working, deeply driven and loyal to our BossFather, she is a lot like him in many ways and is often the one to remind me what we stand for and who we love. She is my Grounding Line. Ptarmus is my Strength, a blessing from our PlagueMother to give us the gift of survival through any hardship.Serket, a Serthis child we found wandering the Carrion Canyon, she thinks of things none of us ever would, new ideas- my Vision. She reminds me a lot my Abba, (A name native to my old Clan for a sort of Surrogate Mother) who is another Serthis named Hoda. Right now she lives with my child Svanja. And Serket lives with Divyash and Shadowkiss- two more delights I had the joy of raising. Bakara is compassion incarnate, gentle and kind to everyone she meets and has taught me a lot of sensitivity my own parents...could not. She is my Softness. Min, a Mith child we took in after his Clan was...destroyed by other Dragons. Despite having every reason to hate us, he doesn’t- he loves us dearly and shows me that Forgiveness is real, as do many of our Non-Draconic members. He lives with Luuk now, who came to live with us as an adult. Foundling is my Rock, a blessing from GrandFather Earth. A magnificent warrior ready to defend all we believe and hold dear as well the one to love and protect my dear friend, Anak. Event is a lot like his Father, a goof ball and full of jokes and smiles.~ He reminds me to play. He is my joy. Snicker also gives us great joy with his pranks and silliness, as well as his way with children- but he is extremely clever. He is my guide through the Shadows. Nestol is the ultimate mother in my opinion, and though she was raised by me, has taught me more about being one than I ever could have learned on my own. Bixy, the daughter of my very good friend, Bixby, reminds me to dream, and that with action, dreams can become reality. Coda, another child gifted to me by Bixby’s clan is an excellent Healer, having learned how to mend several different species in his short time under Edna’s mentoring. I am so very proud of him and his son Lynea. Paricu who loves my daughter Bakara dearly, he is very timid yes... but he would literally drown anyone who tried to harm her!Contrast, a Son of Wind and my beloved Seer. He is the mirror to peer around life’s corners. His own life is hard, knowing many things others do not- but we try our best to make it easier for him to bear and listen to his words to keep us from harm.I could name so many others, a lot of the people you see in my Clan were raised by me, Tess, Nestol and Snicker. I know all their names, I know all my Grandchildren’s names and those who were hatched after them I know those who have chosen to serve our Beloved Hope, the Stormcatcher. All of them are my ‘Favorites,’ and I know I am blessed beyond measure. 

[fullysowerewolf]

Where the streets are wet and everyone’s dead. In honor of Halloween and the near release of Resident Evil 2 (2019), comes a playlist meant to get you in the zombie killing mood and remember all those times back in 1998.

{Beginning of the End}

Crazy Train - Ozzy Osbourne // I’m a Wanted Man - Royal Deluxe // Hello, My Treacherous Friends - OK Go // Ave Maria - Schubert //  

{Enter The World of Survival Horror}

In the Woods Somewhere - Hozier // Icy Gaze - Fumitaka Fuchigami // It’s Terror Time Again - Skycycle // Shoot The Zombies - Songs to Wear Pants To // Aim For The Head - Creature Feature // Moonlight Sonata - Beethoven // Out Of The Woods - Taylor Swift // I Won’t Let This End As A Dream... - Fumitaka Fuchigami // Vengeance - Zack Hemsey // 

 {Fall of a City} 

Something Dark is Coming - Bear McCreary // The Beginning - John Murphy // City of the Dead - Eurielle // Zombies - Figure // Zombies Ate My Neighbors - Single File // Stand by Me (N.B Haunt cover) - Mona // Eat Raw Meat = Blood Drool - Editors // Move Your Dead Bones -  Dr. Reanimator // Thriller - Michael Jackson // In the House, In a Heartbeat - John Murphy // Rage - John Murphy //  Counting Bodies Like Sheep To The Rhythm Of The War Drums - A Perfect Circle // She’s A Zombie Now - The Meteors // Walk Like A Zombie - HorrorPops // Get Up! - Korn (feat. Skrillrex) // Who Will Save You Now - Les Friction // Dark Doo Wop - Ms Mr // Invisible Touch - Genesis // down with the sickness - Disturbed // Black - Kari Kimmel // (She’s a) Zombie - Dead City Dealers // Re: Your Brains - Jonathon Coulton // BRAINS! - Voltaire // Fight ‘Em ‘Till You Can’t - Anthrax // My Body’s A Zombie For You - Dead Man’s Bones // Bloody Shirt (Bastille remix) - To Kill A King // Get Out Alive - Three Days Grace // Ain’t No Grave - Johnny Cash // The Spin - Greg Haines // I’m Listening - James Newton Howard // Zombie (feat. John Cooper) - We As Human // Bodies - Drowning Pool // Carrion - Tranzit // The Mercy of The Living - Bear McCreary // You’re Going To Live - The Real Tuesday Meld //  Goodbye World - Jang Young-gyu  // 

{Raccoon Repeated}

 Jim’s Dream - John Murphy // Who Are You - The Who // Dead Man’s Bones - Dead Man’s Bones // One of Us is the Killer - Dillinger Escape Plan // 

{The Code is Veronica}

Once Upon A December (piano vers.) - Liz Callaway // Zombie - The Pretty Reckless // Living Dead - Figure // Shape Of My Heart - Noah and the Whale // In Antarctic Night - Ugasanie // The Pole of Ice and Loneliness - Ugasanie // The Desert of Ice and Loneliness - Ugasanie // The Boundless Snows - Ugasanie // Coda (remake) - Koba // Chrysalis - Tripon // Vengeance (instrumental) - Zack Hemsey // This Is Not The End - Fieldwork // Zero Ground - Biohazard Pachislot 

Link in the picture

Other RE related playlists: the sequel to this one; A Cause Never Lost // You and Me against the World is Nothing New // Apotheosis/Gotterdammerung // Mortal 

[writer59january13]

A Nightmare In Collegeville,™ Pennsylvania circa mid 1980's

     While shuffling off to Buffalo (another name I use to call the bedroom here at 2 Highland Manor Drive), an impulsive whim found me rifling thru notebooks of very early writings from yours truly.

Back some decades (perhaps an amount of time approximately equal to the half life of element named Matthew Scott Harris), typed document unexpected spilled forth from a heavy duty three ring notebook binder.

    Upon rummaging among typed efforts of literary amateurism, these myopic eyes stopped short when espying a stapled composition about four pages long. The material in question refers to the title of this piece de la resistance.

    There appeared to be a beginning, middle and end, which degree of completion would absolve me to ponder a theme for self subscribed daily assignment, which discipline forced refinement of a verbose harried style, and not always swiftly tailored.

    Hence the brief preface now allows, enables and provides this wordsmith to segue-way into the core firmly identifying lodestone of material (making alterations to hone clarity, favorability, and integrity) before releasing completed fictional story into cyberspace.

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    A primal fear coursed through my body, and haunted every fiber of my slight (slip of a young man) corporeal essence every time I passed the burned out hulk of what used to be the discount lighting and fixture store located at 3714 Germantown Pike, Fairview Village, Pennsylvania.

    An emotion of fright gripped my psyche most prominently when I drove past the dilapidated, hollowed out scorched structure after the bewitching hour of duck. This palpable quotidian uneasiness best characterized as an eerily foreboding, ghostly sensation. Phantasmagoric phenomena purportedly populated these premises prior to the pyromaniacal torched act of a Mongolian Vandal.

    Twas at twilight nocturnal sweeps of the clock, that the heavily damaged wing of the building stirred like some dormant, huge monster.

    The charred ruins of unsold merchandise, collapsed rubble heap, crumpled corrugated roof material, and twisted (sister like) beams of steel appeared to lumber silently and stealthily along the ground analogous to sinister beast in search of prey.

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    Braggadocio got the better part of this ordinarily overly cautious young man (asper fools rush in where angels fear to tread apothegm).

    Abe Zion (my best friend since kindergarten) double dared ourselves to test our comfort zones, and apply exposure therapy under apropos weather conditions.

    Thus, when came a ferocious, dark and stormy night (nsync  with thee refrain "It was a dark and stormy night" is an often-mocked and parodied phrase written by English novelist Edward Bulwer-Lytton in the opening sentence of his 1830 novel Paul Clifford. The phrase is considered to represent "the archetypal example of a florid, melodramatic style of fiction writing", also known as purple prose.

    Actually, we struck up this mutual pact on a recent pitch perfect, gloriously sunny spring day to prove paranormal phenomena a confabulation, where nature played trick or treat with vulnerably susceptible rudimentary precinct of individual human mind.

    We agreed on this deal (after watching an episode of Let's Make A Deal on television based on similar context). While brimming with testosterone roaring swagger, both of us sought to accomplish a twofold objective. We wanted to put to rest this unfounded rumor, that evil spirits inhabited the

abandoned , abysmal site, to test fledgling manhood by carrying out this adventure of daring-do.

    When the rush hour traffic diminished on this most tempestuous, torturous, tumultuous evening, and no on-coming vehicles could be seen approaching from within our severely restrained minimal visual range, and the last traces of fearful silhouettes from passing headlights dissolved, we parked the car (a 1970 Yolks Beetle) within a secluded area of brush.

    Each of us dressed appropriately in sturdy rainwear then walked the short distance to the forbidding, dismal, decrepit shell of a burnt offering with portable phones, and other paraphernalia in hand. Naturally, we conveniently ignored the NO TRESPASSING sign. Just a little bit of the heebie jeebies gave goosebumps as four light as a feather legs gingerly stepped over yellow plastic construction stripping cordoning and marking off perimeter of danger regard this condemned property.

    Upon approaching what used to be the doorway to the store, we found the entrance blocked. Long (and fostered) animal nests, cobwebs, and thick vegetation impeded further progress. This dense brush needed to be cleared. Both of us unclasped the scythes and created (NIKE) swishing motions in an effort to minimize upsetting the resident flora and fauna ecosystem, who rightfully owned provenance to this territory.

    Once a passage got cleared wide enough for slender framed teenage boys to slink through, the mission resumed. As told, donned cladding bolstered top of the line waterproof gear. Also lugged thru this morass comprised backpacks filled with ample food and drink. Entrance made into the inky black ominous void, whereby every sensory nerve cocked, primed in case an ill fate triggered necessity to escape.

    When suitably acclimated to the pitch black environment did attention turn toward the raging tempest (that would no way fit inside a teacup), and ferocious roar outside indicative of horrible creatures, (where the wild things lurked) evident via cacophony of sounds.

    Amidst this earsplitting maelstrom, a faint yet sharp noise (similar when people toast and clink wine glasses together) punctuated infinitesimal brief silences between the bagging and rattling din.

    Subsequently, a phantom (possibly of the Opera) flitted close to our non-visible presence like some ephemeral spirit aware of intruders.

    The hairs along my spine stood on end in tandem with chattering of my teeth, which found me to cling nervously (for dear life) the coat tails of Abe. He laughed softly, and said “come on scaredy cat”, concomitantly taunting me with mild unflattering names. Braveheart endearment tossed to him, whence the erratic waving flashlight, his signal for us to proceed.

    Abe and I walked slowly and carefully with beams of light (flickering with fluctuating diminution of battery life) pointed to the ground, whence one direction indicated the vanished specter.

    With each footstep closer to our objective (the bowel of what could easily be presumed bombed building), a hitherto undetectable source of phosphorescent shimmering now glowed dimly some length down the corridor.

    As we headed deeper into the hallway (in an attempt to lay eyes on that after glow luminous emanation) to discover visa vis the mystery of this nebulous halo, my head accidentally knocked against dangling overhead merchandise, and right foot unwittingly kicked broken cluttered electrical contrivances scattered across the floor. The reverberation of the moving objects got me spooked. As a result, I let out a shriek of surprise.

    When I next heard a maniacal cackle, I momentarily believed Abe to be playing a boyish cruel, practical joke sans emulating my voice in a sinister exaggerated tone. “Abe”, I said in a stern tenor. “Stop with that childish nonsense”!

    Before he could defend his innocence, a blood curdling squawk filled the dank air as a whole horde of hobgoblins maddeningly swooshed about our faces.

We quickly (albeit instinctively, since painful black bore down upon blinking eyelids) dove for cover in a narrow, yet long abysmal recess within the wall. The pinched width of this alcove forced us to negotiate a careful maneuver, especially as the obstacle course incorporated serpentine curves.

    Before planning a strategic approach, we each outfitted our baby soft hands with durable rubber gloves to protect the tender flesh against damp dark surfaces.

    Inch be ooze filled inch (unbeknownst why, but the refrain from inch winch spider...occurred) as we edged forward through the void of absolute zero visibility, whereby a natural poorly wrought tunnel bled caustic, drastic, elastic flux akin to a soldering iron fashioning precise jewelry. Par for the course, and typical of most generic spooky tales hid sundry vermin lodged in crevices.

    Said various and sundry critters scampered and slithered across thickly clothed arms and legs.

    Eventually, the closed area expanded into a wider corridor, and eased growing claustrophobic tendencies.

    Abe and I breathed a premature collective sigh of relief at this prospect, and exhibited less restraint by conversing in a more audible level of conversation versus a forced coda of whispering moments ago.

    This creeping complacence did not last but a couple minutes. Once again peculiar creaks captured our acute hearing. In addition noticeable vibrations shook below our feet.

    These tremor like movements (I associated, kindled, and linkedin, with earthquakes) increased in duration and intensity. Soon thereafter even more powerful shakes made standing and/or walking impossible. The entire (once complex) edifice shook violently, and forced us to take a knee way before Colin Kapernick.

    A seismic shock wracked the foundation to its mooring, and thru us violently to the ground.

    The timbers creaked and groaned as if under an unrelenting strain, and wrenched loose from their respective mortise and tenon joists.   Floor boards popped loose from heavy duty industrial nails below, while shingles flew (akin to carrion diving after fresh road kill) haphazardly overhead. A patchwork of moonlight filtered down from a clear sky, and revealed a anatomically distorted skeletal frame.   

    One need expend imagination to envision the demolished structure waving like some hideous beastial ghoul or buoy. An ethereal quality imbued the remnant relic with a haunting spectre, a person could expect to encounter at a Halloween party.

    The powerful force of each crumbling, grumbling, and lumbering surge (Knight clanging in rusty armor) from this pseudo living thing (satan incarnate) swept aside any immediate hope of escape.

    While thinking to myself about the foolishness of this decision (an exploit to boast) to test the verity of a super-natural situation, a covey of apparitions considered myself and Abe ground zero (in this macabre version of zero sum game), and immediately rendered each of us unable to utter a word.      

    Try as I did, nary a recognizable plea exited this mouth.

    Unlike anything I ever saw in this brief life of mine (suddenly cherished as more valuable than fine spun gold), these transparent, milky fiendish beings epitomized a demonic streak.

    No doubt our earlier uninvited subterfuge (interpreted by these horrible hosts as a most sinister transgression) riled the figurative (or...maybe real tail feathers) these phantasmagoric banshees sought revenge.

    Rather than meekly resign ourselves to whatever malevolent fate awaited us, we fought tooth and nail for our survival. This amounted to defensive access to an out of reach fenestration, when not parrying nor ducking from bodily harm.

    A mighty strength grew up inside us as if by magic. Despite the topsy turvy momentum of the structure, we managed to stand upright like the bipedal hominids we knew and loved. I suddenly reacquired my speech and yelled out “for Christ sake Abe run for your life”!

    I instantaneously followed suit.

    Neither of us succeed in outsmarting our nemesis. Every cubby hole and hatchway found us face to face with a leering malicious grin much more frightful than that of the Cheshire Cat.