#cole's cheap as fuck spells

[witchery-bitchery-witchery]

COLE’S CHEAP-AS-FUCK ANTI-ANXIETY SPELL JAR

(DISCLAIMER: This spell and magic in general is not a substitute for medical, mental, or emotional health. See a fuckin doctor y’all. I use this spell on top of going to therapy, which I have been doing for two years)

What’s up bitches!! It’s me Cole, your friendly local witch doin his thang with some fuckin SPELL JARS hell yeeeeeeee

This is my first ever spell jar, and I’m actually really pleased with the results?? I am one magical boy so it seems. But, if you’re like me, you’re frugal to the point of concerning your acquaintances, so you don’t wanna break the bank with your witchery. That said, all the ingredients in this jar are mostly easy to get a hold of, and you likely already have them in your kitchen or wherever the fuck else y’all store your herbs idfk let’s gET INTO IT

GENERAL SHIT YOU NEED

1. A FUCKIN JAR (I use a tiny little guy I wear around my neck but whatever works for u)

2. TWO LITTLE PLATES SO YOU DON’T GET SHIT EVERYWHERE WHEN YOU PUT YOUR INGREDIENTS INTO THE JAR

3. A FUNNEL FOR THE SHIT IF YOU’RE CLUMSY LIKE ME

4. GLUE OR WAX OR WHATEVER SEALANT U USE IT REALLY DON’T MATTER (I used tacky glue) 

OPTIONAL SHIT

1. A RUG IN ANY GEOMETRIC SHAPE U DESIRE (I used a hexagonal throw rug bc that’s what I had)

2. CRYSTALS IN NON CHIP FORM TO PUT ON TIPS OF THE GEOMERTRIC SHAPED RUG OF YOUR CHOICE, IF YOU HAVE A CIRCLE I REALLY DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO(I used two amethyst chunky dudes, two clear quartzes, and two rose quartzes)

3. FAKE CANDLES, OR REAL IF YOU’RE EXTRA LIKE THAT just follow fire safety rules

INGREDIENTS

order doesn’t really matter except for the first and last ingredients, so go nuts, also put whatever the fuck else you want in here, it’s your witchcraft

1. SALT (for protection and also because I like starting my jars with salt on the bottom for that sweet sweet aesthetic)

2. AMETHYST CHIPS (For soothing nerves and protection. I put twelve in there to represent each month of the year but like it really doesn’t matter)

3. CHAMOMILE (To soothe nerves. I tore open a fuckin tea bag for this so you don’t need to get all fancy

4. LAVENDER (To soothe nerves and it smells nice so if you’re a closeted witch like me you can say it’s so you can smell the lavender when you’re nervous and just never disclose the fact that you sealed this shut with glue :) )

5. ROSE QUARTZ CHIPS, BC PRETTY and SELF LOVE (also put in twelve to represent the months of the year but again doesn’t really matter)

6. ROSEMARY (For happiness!! Probably some other things but at this point I was excited) 

7. SUGAR (to sweeten the spell and clean the fuck up any negative energies, also bc sugar is great)

8. CLEAR QUARTZ CHIPS (at this point I was just throwin shit in there but again I put twelve)

9. CARNATION PETALS (for protection! I used four white ones bc that’s what I had)

10. ROSE PETALS (for self love! I used two pink ones and two yellow ones bc that’s what I had)

11. ONE FUCKIN CHIP OF GARNET (One final piece of protection! JUST ONE and would rec it be on top so it protects the spell and so if the spell goes to shit it protects it)

STEPS (bolded are optional)

1. Take all ingredients and lay them out overnight the night before so that they soak up the moon’s rays n shit. I did this on my windowsill*. CLOSE THE WINDOW SO NO PETS OR WEIRDOS GET TO THEM *charge however you like 

1.5 Assemble shit on the night of 

2. Lay out your optional rug or go to wherever you do you spell shit. I did this at night on a Sunday I think idk it’s been a while, but it doesn’t matter

3. Lay out your crystal globs on any points on the rug

4. Place your dish in the very center of wherever you’re spell casting, and have your smaller dish in front of it

5. Place your jar in the center of the dish and put your funnel in there. I made mine by rolling up a piece of paper, it looked really fuckin suspicious let me tell ya

4. Measure out your shit in any way you please and in any way you want to order it EXCEPT FOR SALT AND GARNET, SALT FIRST, GARNET LAST other then that do whatever

7, Thank ingredients for their aid!! 

8. Recite any loopholes and fail safes you want, but remember to infuse the jar with the intent to assuage your anxiety

9. Take that tacky glue or whatever and seal that shit (I put the glue on the cork, in the top of the jar, and around the edges for extra security bc I wear mine around my neck)

10. Clean up ur shit

11. Wear jar or carry it on you, and whenever anxious look at it or shake it or whatever

12. Go to therapy

13. Thanks for coming to my TED talk

14. I hate the number 13 so I had to put a 14 for my own sake lol  

MISCELLANEOUS NOTES FROM COLE

So that’s my first jar! I’m fairly relaxed with my whole process, and I’m fairly new, so if this isn’t up to your speed, I apologize, bc I ain’t know SHIT 

I hope you like it!! Go to therapy and happy witchin 

[cinnamonkittenz]

Rating the ninjago season based on what I’ve gathered from binging the show in 3 weeks while not paying attention 70% of the time

(Spoilers obviously)

Season 1 / Pilot: not often on TV but a very good introduction to the story, love the concept of the skeletons and Garmadon being a knock off Hades, I wish they continued with that instead of the snakes, sadly kinda too fast paced but hey it’s supposed to be a movie I guess, 9/10

Season 2: what my local kids channel played for 5 years on loop, a classic but I’m tired of it bc I’ve seen it too often, has a lot of plot holes and the snakes are too goofy at times for my taste, terrible animation in comparison to the newer seasons, 5/10

Season 3: not as good as I remember it to be but their outfits slap, we finally get to meet PIXAL our queen, the trip to space was kinda random and unnecessary, but the shock when Zane died tho???? 12 year old me was devastated, 8/10

Season 4: really interesting premise, I wish they had committed to Zane staying dead or at least staying away for longer tho, the tension is lost halfway through the season somehow, we need more Skylor content, 7/10

Season 5: Nya has powers now?? And oh it’s just the thing we need to defeat the ghosts???? And airjitzu????? Really?????? Great writing very wow, but Cole being turned into a ghost had me shook so that’s really what saves this season for me, gonna have to subtract some points again tho bc Morro is yelling so much and so loud and it’s annoying, 5.5/10

Season 6: I like the idea of the evil dschinn in a bottle but the rest?? Dschinnjago (how tf is it even spelled)?? What the fuck where’s the creativity, and I hate how literally no one gets character development besides Jay and Nya, literally everyone else had no personality and then gets sucked into that sword, if you’re a jaya stan good for you but this season was so boring to me, 4/10

Season 7: okay this is a hot take bc apparently people kinda like this season and maybe it’s bc I paid even less attention than usual but it was so bad,,,,, snakes again? Can we come up with something different please? Yes the time blades are a cool concept but the rest?? And the character design of the villains is so bad, like seriously what the fuck, my eyes are bleeding, 2/10

Season 8: I was kind of sceptical when they suddenly started with that royal family stuff but Harumi,,, my beloved, the one and only girl boss, I think she’s the best villain of the entire show (yes her goal is kinda cheap but the reason for it and the way she behaves is just top tier villiany), the motorcycle gang is kinda fun as well, dad Cole has my whole heart, and the ending???? BRO?????? 9/10

Season 9: in retrospect it’s really just 4 gays raising a kid in the desert, gives me big mad max fury road vibes at least the aesthetic (i haven’t seen the movie lol), the junk yard baron guy and the faith plot are kinda cringe tho and the HTTYD scene with Kai?? They don’t even try to conceal that it’s a knock off, same camera angle and everything, the plot in ninjago city is like,,,, bro is this still a kids show?? This is straight up ‚a bunch of teens try to fight the fascistic regime in a post apocalyptic world‘, the whole season feels like a filler tho so 7.5/10

Season 10: that Lloyd / Garmadon fight really is something, have the creators forgotten they’re making a kids show??? Don’t remember much besides Harumi straight up dying and thinking that Skylor needs more screentime besides being a plot device, 7/10

Season 11: the beginning is veeeery slow which is kind of annoying and what happened to the plot with Aspheera?? Did I not pay attention again or....?? but the rest? Chefs kiss, love it, Akita my beloved,,,,, I didn’t see Zane as the emperor coming at first (although it’s pretty on the nose now that i think about it) but it’s so dark and so well written I love it,,, like I said a thousand times without the advisor guy and them not having to make it suitable for kids it could have been even better, the ending was so rushed tho and the conflicts were resolved way too easily, that’s why I have to subtract a point, 9/10

Season 12: this season could have used so much more superstar rocking jay content,,, seriously if you give Jay yet another season then fucking commit to it, the second half of the season is literally s6 all over again and I hate it, yes we get it jaya rules but please,,, give the other characters some screentime and development, the way the conflict with unagami is solved is,, questionable??? Like that’s not how it works bro, 6.5/10

Season 13: not at all what I expected it to be bc I had seen so much amazing stuff on here so I was pretty disappointed bc it didn’t feel like Cole’s season, the evil dad trope is overused so pls stop it, the uply (???) and their animated short slapped, we need to see more of Cole’s mom,,, pleeasseeeee, 7/10

Season 14: what the fuck?? Is going on???? Is this even a season??? What’s up with the western colonizers club????? I know it’s set up for s15 but I really didn’t like it esp the portrayal of indigenous people as savages (at least it has the vibe), 1/10

Season 15: listen I’m just not a fan of non human species in the lego world, the snakes were okay but these sea bitches look horrible, the evil son had a great voice actor tho, and the ending,,,,,, bro i still haven’t recovered, I never expected them to commit to something like that, 6.5/10

[watermelonlipstick]

Editing Valentines

Just a little Valentine’s Day drabble. Sorry I’ve been sort of MIA recently, school is absolutely KICKING MY ASS. I’m hoping to get my shit under control soon.

Title: Editing Valentines

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader sort of? Almost entirely just Sam and Dean being brothers

Word Count: 582

Summary: Sam helps Dean edit a Valentine for the girl he’s seeing (implied she hunts with them).

Warning: swearing, FLUFF

           “You know what, if you’re going to be a dick, forget it,” Dean scoffed, snatching the notebook back from Sam.

           “No, I—come on, I’m not trying to be a dick. I just don’t know that Foreigner is the most romantic band to be quoting in a valentine.”

           “See, I knew you were going to be like this. That song was playing when I first told her I loved her, asshole.” Dean got up from the motel’s kitchenette table and slammed it in a little too hard.

           “Wait, really?” Sam’s eyes went a little soft around the edges of his teasing. “That’s actually pretty cute.”

           “Yeah, whatever.” He flopped onto the cheap couch hard. It made the pullout machinery within creak angrily and Sam knew it must’ve hurt a little even if Dean’s angry pout didn’t shift.

           Sam waited for his brother’s defensive embarrassment to calm down for a few minutes before speaking. “Can I read the rest of it?”

           “Fuck you, no you can’t read the rest of it.”

           “I shouldn’t have said anything about the Foreigner stuff; you asked me to check for spelling and grammar, not commentary. Please?”

           Dean glared at Sam from the sofa, but Sam knew better than to think he was actually mad; this kind of thing wasn’t in Dean’s wheelhouse and the nerves were practically crashing off of him in waves. He held Dean’s gaze, trying his best not to let any touch of smile cross his face, until Dean finally rolled his eyes. “Fine. But only because I have no one else to ask. And if you laugh again I’m shoving your computer so far up your ass you’re going to blow keys out of your nose.”

           “Won’t laugh, I swear.”

           Dean tossed the notebook over to Sam like a frisbee and specifically looked away from him, biting the cuticle of one thumb and tapping his foot until his little brother finished reading.

           “Dean this is—this is really sweet.”

           “Shut up. Use that diploma and tell me if I spelled something wrong. I don’t want her to think she’s with a complete dumbass.”

           “You’re not a—never mind. I’m serious, it’s—uh, it’s really nice. There’s one comma here that I think should be a semicolon but other than that it looks good.”

           “Think she’ll like it?”

           “Dude, I think she’ll cry.”

           Dean tried to hide the impulse to smile, biting the inside of his lip in a futile attempt to cover the twitch.

           Sam got up to hand the notebook back. “You have a card you’re going to write it in or something?”

           “Think I should?”

           “I do, yeah. Something sturdy too, so she can keep it.”

           Dean grinned down at the notebook in his hand before clearing his throat. “Uh, thanks, Sammy.”

           His little brother nodded back, not wanting to push the moment too far. “I can ask her to help me with this spell if you need time to go get one. I think there’s a mall by the highway, they’ll probably have some kind of stationery store or something.”

           “Okay, Beaches.”

           Sam not only lets him have the low-hanging fruit but doesn’t even rise to the joke knowing it’ll help recalibrate Dean’s mood. Returning to his laptop, he starts thinking absentmindedly about a realistic excuse for needing assistance with what seemed so far like a basic spell. Dean taps the notebook against his leg a few times before jamming it in the side of his duffel bag, covering his untamable smile with rough fingertips as he flicks on the TV.

-

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass​ , @anxiousbarnes​ , @deanwinchesterswitch​ , @akshi8278​ , @itsjensenanddean​ , @flannellover67​ , @weepingwillowphoenix​ , @tj-drinks-tea​ , @whatareyousearchingfordean​ , @winchestergirl2​ , @winchest09​ , @samwisethegr8​ , @fawnxng​ , @nurse-sarahrn​ , @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love​ , @thewinchesterandreidwhore​ , @deanwanddamons​ , @stressedoutkitten​ , @winchestershiresauce​ , @tatted-trina6​ , @percico-heronstairs​ , @downanddirtydean​ , @moosewinchester-deactivated2021​ , @mamitoqueens , @queenoftheunderdark​ , @lyarr24​ , @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ , @wonder-cole​ , @sergeantsea​

And as always, if you want to be on my taglist, were on the taglist and changed your handle, or I lost track of it, please let me know!

[crackinglamb]

001 for dragon age?

Did you really want an essay?  Cuz you’re gonna get one.  I’ll stick with DA:I, since that’s the only one I’ve actually played.  I have passing familiarity with the other two games, but not enough for details.  And as always, it got really long while I was writing it out, so under a cut it goes.

Favorite character: Probably obvious.  But it’s Solas.  Love him or hate him, no one can deny that he’s a complex, intricately written character with lots of facets we have yet to see all of.  Plus, he has a delicious voice and I’ll own that kink, no one can shame me.

Least Favorite character: *sigh*  Vivienne.  I wanted to like her, I really did.  She’s a powerful, ambitious woman in her own right, a successful mage, an adept at the Game.  She has strong motivations of her own, even if they’re written with a bit of a cliche.  But that’s also part of her problem.  She’s willfully blind to the suffering of her peers.  She’s bought into the propaganda of the Circle and the Chantry.  She’s like a political centrist and I find that distasteful.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Solas/Lavellan; Dorian/Iron Bull; Varric/Hawke; Krem/Maryden; and finally a headcannon one: Solas/Ghilan’nain.  There are a wealth of layers to a relationship between them, and a bucketful of explanatory suppositions for why he is the way he is now.

Character I find most attractive: Do we really need to revisit the voice kink?  Are you gonna make me spell it out?  *snort*  Of course it’s that damned Egg.  No, I don’t sound too happy about it, do I?

Character I would marry: None of them.  They are, every single one of them, a hot mess disaster that I would never tie my life to, even if marriage wasn’t a convenient religious construct.

Character I would be best friends with: Varric Tethras.  That dwarf is bloody loyal to a fault and he deserves nice things and people who care about him just as much as he cares about everyone else.

 A random thought: How did I get here?  I wasn’t supposed to be here.  I just wanted to write the aforementioned happy ever after for Varric.  How did this happen?

An unpopular opinion: *nervous laugh*  My bestie is gonna kill me, but...Cullen isn’t as changed as people tend to think he is.  The overall arc of his ‘redemption’ falls flat imo.  I mean, all we really get from him is recognition that he has an addiction, has seen some shit and his attempts to deal with those.  He falls under ‘forgiveness doesn’t equal another chance’.  For a man who has been through as much as he has, his worldview is still pretty narrow.  Having been on the receiving end of someone like that irl, it simply doesn’t appeal in my fiction.

My Canon OTP: Hah!  Solas/Lavellan.  And not just because I’m writing about it to the exclusion of everything else right now.  I think it’s also the most in-depth view of Solas as a character.  His romance gets the most information about him by sheer numbers.

My Non-canon OTP: Varric/Hawke.  Hands down.  You cannot tell me that a man like Varric, over protective and loyal, would not lay down his life for Hawke and tap that ass while he was at it.

Most Badass Character: Leliana.  That woman is terrifying and yet all I want to do is give her a hug and a mug of hot cocoa.  She has the strengths of her convictions, the agility of her mind, she will fuck you up before you know what hit you and yet...she’s vulnerable under the surface.  But she doesn’t allow that vulnerability to break her.  Aside from a single instance, she never even lets anyone see it.  She’s remade herself over and over.  She probably could use a nap and a snuggle from her nugs.

Most Epic Villain: IMHO, DA:I doesn’t have a strong villain.  It has a series of boss fights.  The story isn’t finished, and the game is basically a placeholder in a franchise.  It’s too soon to know whether or not Solas counts (I don’t think he does, though, and if he does, I will be extremely disappointed in the writing team).

Pairing I am not a fan of: Cassandra/Varric.  I’ve yet to see it portrayed with proper application of enemies to lovers.  The start of their relationship is frankly abusive.  She holds him prisoner and repeatedly threatens his life in close quarters and she never makes amends for it in canon.  Bad tempers that lead to interpersonal violence are not cute or romantic.  I love Cass, I sincerely do.  But I do not ever see that ship as doing anything more than sinking to the bottom of the Waking Sea.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Bianca Davri.  There was so much hype.  So much.  And she was astoundingly underwhelming when we met her.  Love is truly blind, because given the portrayal we got, I have no idea what the ever loving fuck Varric sees in her.

Favourite Friendship: Solas and Iron Bull.  Now, this is assuming one saves the Chargers and Bull becomes Tal-Vashoth.  They go from butting heads on every single blessed thing to playing mental chess to pass the time and prove several points to themselves and to us, the players.  They learn so much from each other.  I get the warm fuzzies.  Runner up to this is Solas and Dorian.  Two men who are frighteningly similar but can’t see it.  Or won’t admit it, anyway.  And again, they learn so much from each other.

Character I most identify with: Okay, it might be a cheap cop out, but the Inquisitor.  I too am not getting paid enough to deal with the shit life throws at me while simultaneously being responsible for the well being of both myself and a person dependent on me.  Granted, my little person isn’t all of Thedas, but I wouldn’t say that makes it any less important.  And I too am canonically disabled by the end.  It’s rough being a spoonie.

Character I wish I could be: Ack, I don’t think I’d want to be any of them.  They all need therapy.  Possible exception is Cole.  I like to help, just as much as I like to be left to my own devices if no one needs me.  Speaking in riddles?  Unleashing a torrent of compassionate wrath and disappearing before anyone makes me bleed?  Having a deeper connection to the world around me?  Sure, I can get behind those.  I’m a Gemini.

Thanks for the ask.  You know I love it when you make me think.

[gayorphanboss]

Christmas is hell in my world - To be continued

Blood rushing to my head, heart palpitations beating faster than an electronic dance music track and bleeding from my head with a flow like a river. 14-years of this shit, 14 fleeting moments of beatings in a time period of 10 minutes. I’m on my floor, concussed with a swollen face, blood dripping off my face into the floorboard cracks. As the blood dries on my face, then makes it hard to open my eyes with the drying of the blood working as a glue on my eye lashes. The rats in the walls hear silence and make their way near me. I was frozen from the previous events, so I probably came across as an inanimate object of my room. Who did this to me? My father. Why?

The morning before I’m immobilized on my bedroom floor.

Eyes heavier than a dumbbell. I’m Half-asleep and half-awake, before the sun beaming through my bent and crooked cheap aluminon cheap blinds, make me fully aware of the day. Waking up in my own personal hell. Today isn’t just any other day. Today is Christmas. Therefore, it’s a Christmas lunch today with my family which seem like a bunch of strangers who hate me. I’m very much the black sheep. You grow up thinking adults are mature, but sometimes they act like they are still in high school, like a peer I would come across in the hallway.  But perhaps I am the problem. Sigh, why do I always feel like I’m the issue for everything I do. Do all 14-year-old boys feel like this? Sometimes I feel like a fish being pulled backwards and drowning in my own environment. Having the resources like gills and still consuming toxicity.

We are taking a full car from Ballarat to Melbourne. Guess what, I’m in the middle even knowingly I am taller than my sister Shannon. Shannon is three years older than me; she is about to go into her final year at high school. She has a good work effort, quite pretty, has freckles and long thick brunette hair. When I encountered a bullying ideal at school, she mentioned to me “once you let people walk all over you, they will be doing it for the rest of your life. In some sense I could already understand what she was talking about, with my current abuser, my father. All I knew what to do, was freeze and take it like a punching bag.

I don’t speak up or challenge any logical statement of being taller to not sit in the middle, because the consequence is more physically brutal of having a boney ass and no leg room for an hour and a half. Much better than being whipped by a belt, smacked in the face and whatever my father feels like doing to me. He struggles with his own personal problems and looks me like a punching bag, then when he wants to release his anger, he hits, kicks, throws plates, belt and whatever he wants.

Have a small bite of Weet-Bix then straight into the shower. I close the wooden door and make way into the shower filled with moldy walls. Stare at the spider in the web before washing my hair. In this moment I’m fantasying dropping dead. Perhaps being turned into ash like some magical spell in some sci-fi shit on tv, sci-fi or fiction? Who the fuck knows, I don’t! All I know is I want my ashes being washed down the drain like no such thing as existence of myself Xavier. I relive a memory of watching Saw with my mother, while she was spaced out on crack and I was seven. Admired the beauty that they had endure the pain and mostly they dyed afterwards, while I was constantly enduring more and more abuse without being relieved of my pain through death. So… death seemed pleasurable today.    

I wash my hair quickly, since getting a “hurry up Xavier” from my other sister Nikkita, through the wooden door. Now Nikkita is a very amazing athlete, dual sports or being a national athlete, finalist and medalist, I’ve always admired her. Also admired her when she put her body on the line between myself and dad, when his red bull anger was bursting, and he was trying to hurt me. I was at the door, she was in-between myself and dad, while she was not letting him through. She was in a sense stronger than him. In this moment anyways, because she wasn’t backing down and she was firm, and he couldn’t get through. She was pushing him away, while was trying to her out of the way.

I get dressed in some shorts and a T-Shirt. Now we all make our way to the car. We drive to another suburb in Ballarat, to Nan’s home. We are taking her car, on the basis of ours was gross and my father looked after things very poorly. Nan is a, my way of the highway type of women. I have a Ying and Yang love for that part of her.

We arrive, say our hellos’. Then we pack the car with my Nans dishes. Now we are on the road to Geelong. I’m so wrecked and not prepared for this day. In this car trip, I’m quite quiet. I have decided that I won’t speak any more than I need to for the day. Because I seem to always tend to be the problem. The “know it all”. This remark stems from earlier years working out basic logical problems, which ignited hatred towards my intellect. These problems solving were over many different factors in life. But one what comes to mine, is trying to fit a couch through a doorway. I suggested another way, since the initial way of trying to force it through was not working. So, I suggested “how about we try putting it on an angle”. Then my father gave up, had a little tantrum, stormed through the door and slammed the screen wire, like a four-year-old not getting a chocolate at the checkout at Coles. Left my sisters and I, to work out how to get this fucking couch into the house while he is defusing his tempter in his room. Therefore, I have come to the conclusion to be polite and not react to any remarks made by the adults on this Christmas day. Since everything I do and say is just a problem. I sincerely saying this, I’m not being sarcastic, I just want everyone to have a good time and if I do not speak, I think that will be the easiest way.

Looking past the paddocks into the skyline. Listening to my tunes and minding my business. All is going to plan. Just a normal trip, nothing abnormal. Few remarks about us, made by nan. Some body shaming to my beautiful sister Nikkita, influencing Shannon to be more proper and you know, the “know it all” remark made about me even knowingly I am being dead quiet. So in short it is a shit travel from point A to point B.

We arrive. My uncle grant and his wife Christie are the hostesses of this Christmas lunch. Also, Uncle Brett and his wife Andrea are here. With their kids, Nigel and Glen. Greetings to all, I am being polite also a little closed off not to draw to much attention to myself. I have now just witnessed Andrea and Nan accidently peck while greeting each other. I’m moving gently throughout the space and saying hello. I’m sitting on the couch with my mouth shut, but the conversations are drifting between footy (AFL) and the cricket. Two things, I am no longer interested in, but I do not voice anything. Wow. I think I am the problem. The social setting is a dynamic with only signs of peace and joy in this festive. Dad’s laughing loudly. Nan’s smiling. Pa is being the beautiful soul he is. I’m sitting on the couch, identifying I am the problem. That moment of nothingness is followed through with the hollow feeling. The feeling of emptiness, and my thoughts are thinking, I deserve every shred of abuse in endure. I’m a broken piece of shit which brings my family anger.

I make my way out-side to pat the dog. This dog is a stunning Kings Charles, named Penny. Doesn’t bark and is very friendly. I’m patting Penny outside so I can take a breath. I need a second. A second to wrap my head around, that I am a fucking burden to everyone. I am this fucking know it all twat. I want to cry, but dry less tears are coming out since I’m so fucking empty. Soo fucking over everything. I am that “cunt” one of my friend’s parents at the time called me, when over afterschool in grade 6, yes, fucking primary school. I am also that “cunt” my dad called me at 5 years old. I am stupid and ugly which my step mum called me. I am weird. I am arrogant which the dads at the swim club called me. I deserve to be the laughingstock at the swim club’s presentation when dad was awarded the golden clip board award, for breaking one over my head when I was 7 years old in Melton. They all laughed so fucking hard over awarding him it, may as well created the term “lol” before the internet slang took over in later years. I’m all the names grant calls me, I’m worth $5 a day to clean a whole house like Christy said. I’m ungrateful like every single fucking adult in my life has told me, if that’s family or teachers and everything in-between. Perhaps, they can smell the homo on me. And I am an abomination against reproduction and to this conservative family. All the beltings for crying when I was younger. I fucking deserve to have my emotions beaten out of me. The ringing ears from being so consumed by my thoughts gets broken by the calling of me name. “Xavier” Nikkita slurs.

I shift my feet back inside, the realization of my own burden on others feels like my legs are twice as heavy… I’m just extra weight on others. Back inside. Sitting on the light-colored couch, and feet on the carpet-mat. Conversations are still that bleak short talk whether shit. Time passes and we all make our way outside.

It’s a scorcher of a day in Melbourne. I am now seated at the “kids table”, while the “adults:” are at the adult table. We are under a gazebo whole they are seated under a shelter. Everything isn’t still going to plan as I drown in my own guilt of being this factor of unhappiness to my family and a subject of pain for them too. Half or so hour later, we all make our way grabbing a white kitchen plate to plate our food. I get some ham, potato salad and lamb and of course gravy. Some salt and pepper and I’m ready to eat this delightful feed. Through the sliding glass doorway, minding my business while treading lightly protecting my plate of food. Bum to the plastic chairs, very similar to the ones in primary school. Fork and knife in unison eating this delicious plate in serenity.

[aweebwrites]

Take It Easy

Warning: curse words and Cryptor.

_____________

(Thanks for letting me write this @sayijo!)

________________

Cryptor tried to blink away the grogginess in his eyes as he headed out front to where he was assuming all the ninja were. According to the clock, he had blacked out for 17 hours but he felt as if he hadn't slept in days.

'Fuck. Why the hell does sleep have to be so complicated.' He thought irritably before sliding the door open, hissing immediately as daylight assaulted his eyes.

"Oh good. You're alive." Kai says as he blinked rapidly, his eyes sluggish woth adjusting to the light.

"Sadly." Cryptor says drily then patted himself down, pulling out a cigarette a moment after.

"Why smoke when it doesn't even affect you?" Jay asked, pausing his sparring with Zane.

"Fuck you that's why." He huffed as he lit it then took a deep drag, letting the smoke escape through the unplated side of his mouth.

"Rude." Jay huffed, crossing his arms.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed." Cole smirked, giving his hammer a swing before setting it on his shoulder. "Maybe a workout can change that. We wanted to practise fighting against someone wearing an Oni Mask again and since you have one..." He suggested, looking at him expectantly.

He sighed, smoke escaping his lips and the uncovered side of his mouth that revealed sharp, jagged, metallic teeth.

"I don't see why not." He says, rolling his shoulders as he leaned off of the doorway.

"I call first dibs!" Kai called out as he passed Cryptor to go inside, the Nindroid swearing under his breath at Kai's loud voice hurting his head.

He needed an update where he could turn down auditory reception. Visual too. Kai returned moments later with the mask and Cryptor took it from him.

"For the sake of your well being, you better have only touched the mask." He says, narrowing his eyes at Kai who held his hands up in surrender.

"You appear exhausted. Perhaps if you aren't up for it-"

"Shut up Zane. I wouldn't say I would if I wasn't up to it." Cryptor sneered before flicking the cigarette into his mouth and chewing it, just for the sole purpose of seeing Jay and Cole cringe at him in horror. "Let's do this." He says, slipping the mask on.

He hunched over as red hot power coursed through him, making him glow with it. Horns grew from the mask itself as his glowing red arms duplicated. Once the rush of power cooled, he pulled out four sets of red bladed swords with a growl.

"Dramatic much? And did you sleep with those?" Jay asked, gesturing to the four swords he held.

He wouldn't admit he was still secretly awed every time a transformation happened however.

"How about you come over here and I'll show you dramatic." Cryptor spoke, his voice deeper and growly due to the mask.

"No way. I have dibs on kicking your ass first." Kai says, circling him with a sword in hand.

"We'll see about that hot head." Cryptor smirked behind the mask before charging at him.

Kai blocked all four swords with his own, grunting under the weight of his newfound strength. He was about to take a cheap blow to the stomach when he heard a crack.

"Huh?" He says, looking up at his sword.

He only had enough time to jump back out of the way when his sword broke in two, the top half skidding half way across the training yard. Kai looked down at the hilt of his sword in surprise. Then anger.

"I forged this yesterday! Did you know how long it took me!" He yelled then stroked it. "It was supposed to be my strongest sword yet..." He whispered sadly.

"Now you know it's a piece of shit." Cryptor says irritatedly.

He was all fired up and it's over already? Fuck that.

"My turn." Cole says as he walked over, pushing Kai aside.

Without further prompting, he swung his hammer at Cryptor who jumped back out of the way nefore charging at him. His swords clashed against his hammer, sending sparks flying. Cryptor slammed the hilt of his sword in his lower right hand into Cole's stomach, making him grunt before using his hammer as leverage to swing a high kick at him. Cryptor caught his foot in hand and Cole grinned sheepishly. Cryptor smirked beneath the mask, revealing metallic fangs before swinging him around by his leg then let go, watching as he crashed into the far wall.

"Lightning!" Jay yelled, hitting him with a large bolt of it and Cryptor grunted from the initial impact before charging at him, the mask giving him some resistance to their attacks.

"Truce?" Jay squeaked before ducking out of the way of his swords- only to duck right into a knee to the chin.

"You may be taking this a little too seriously." Zane says, as he drew his arrow tight in his bow.

"A necessity. Do you think if someone else got their hands on the mask they'd take it easy on you?" Cryptor asked as he walked forward slowly, using his sword to block the arrow aimed at his shoulder then the other aimed for the mask.

"Aaahhh!" Kai yelled as he jumped on Cryptor's back, locking his legs around his waist and reaching for the mask.

He reached up to throw him off but Jay held on to his right set of hands, Cole quickly holding on to the left. Zane ran forwards then reached up to take of the mask but then Cryptor threw them all back, simply by straightening.

"Wanna try that again?" He asked them with a smirk as they all groaned on the ground.

"Oh we will!" Kai growled as he sat up then winced. "In a second but we will!" He says, throwing Cryptor a glare.

At least this promises to be entertaining.

_____________

"Ow!"

"Shit!"

"Dammit!"

"We must keep- ugh, trying."

"Oof!"

"Oh come on!"

"That was almost critical!"

"Dude what the fuck?!"

"Alright. Time out." Cole panted from on his back, his hammer lodged into the wall behind him.

"Again?" Cryptor asked, relaxing his defensive stance.

"Yes again." Jay says as he sat up. "If you haven't realised, you're impossible to beat."

"We need a break and a new strategy or else we'll spend even longer than 4.8 hours trying to defeat you." Zane says as he took stock of his arm that took particularly hard hit.

It was functional but he might need to tighten the shoulder joint after this.

"Fine. Whatever." Cryptor shrugged then walked over to the closest wall, leaning against it as they all huddled on the other side of the training yard.

He didn't bother to take off the mask. What's the point when he would be kicking their asses again in a few minutes. He cleared his throat then took a deep breath when his chest felt a little tight. Strange. His systems aren't indicating anything unusual...

"Are you ready to go again?!" Cole called out moments later, pulling his hammer from out of the wall.

"I have been all day." He smirked, walking over to them.

__________

Jay yelled as Cryptor spun him around in the air with his upper two hands then tossed him directly into Kai before ducking out of the way of Cole's hammer. He took that moment to cough into his hand, his chest feeling a little tighter than usual.

"You ok?" Cole asked as he stood, clearing his throat.

"I'm fine." Cryptor confirmed before kicking him in the stomach, sending hom flying back with a yell.

_______

"Are you sure you're ok? We can take a break you know?" Kai says with a frown, watching him past their clashing swords as he coughed into his hand.

He waved his concern off with his upper left as he continued to cough, coming up seconds later.

"M' fine." He spoke with a slight rasp to his already growly voice.

He spotted movement in his sword's reflection then pushed Kai back then ducked, allowing Jay to jump over himband directly into Kai.

"WE AGREED NO MORE JUMP TACKLES JAY!"

"But it would be more unexpected if we did after agreeing not to!"

_________

Almost 8 hours in and it was becoming difficult to breathe.

"Time out." Cryptor finally called, taking off the mask and allowing his additional arms and fangs to vanish.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Kai asked with a worried look as Cryptor began to cough yet again, each one shaking him bodily.

"I'm fine. I just... It's a little hard to breathe behind the mask." He got out, panting a little as he kept his slightly raspy voice as level as possible.

He felt something slowly trickling down the palm and looked at it- only to be surprised at the sight of black oil in his palm.

"That doesn't look ok." Kai pointed out, even more concerned.

"Look, it's fine. I just need a breather." He says, waving him off as he headed inside.

"Alright. Take it easy then." Kai says, watching him as he walked inside.

He'll check in on him later, just to make sure.

"Looks like the ones Sensei buys are up to better stuff." Jay says, gaining Kai's attention.

He was holding up the broken sword he may have admittantly slightly rushed in making in time for today.

"Shut up."

________

Cryptor hunched over the side of his bed, coughing something fierce, barely able to get a breath in between each body jerking cough. Shit. What the fuck is this? Was it the cigarette? But he had been smoking for years without this happening. He looked down at the black oil dripping from his hand as he wheezed. He swiped at his mouth with the back of his other hand before cleaning up the mess of oil on his hand and on the floor. No need for anyone to lose their shit. It'll most likely go away on its own anyway.

__________

It did not go away on its own. Not at all. In fact, it got worse. It felt as if there was a building pressing against his chest and the coughs have only gotten more frequent and more oily. Not to mention the lightheadedness and dizzy spells...

He coughed into a rag, struggling to make it stop before-

"Maybe we should get you checked out. I mean, Mr. Borg wouldn't mind..." Kai says as they all watched him cough at the dinner table.

"It's just a bug." He wheezed out before coughing again.

"'Just a bug'. Right." Jay says sarcastically but his face was filed with worry for their robotic friend.

"How long has this been going on?" Wu asked his students, eyeing Cryptor critically.

"Since training." Cole supplied as Cryptor took ragged breaths, his chest feeling too tight, too heavy while his head felt far too light.

He placed his forehead in his palm once his dizzy spell intensified. Fuck. He hasn't felt this awful since his left arm was ripped off in an accident for the umpteenth time and he was left bleeding out for a while.

"It'll pass. Don't worry about it." He rasped, even though he felt as if he was on death's door.

"Keep telling yourself that." Zane says, unconvinced. "It may be late but I should be able to reach him..."

Cryptor stopped listening, a shudder racing through him once he felt something running down the side of his head.

"... I'll be back." He says then got up abruptly- regretting it instantly when his vision blackened for a moment as the world spun violently.

It was sheer will and the ability to lock his joints why he hadn't collapsed. He headed for the bathroom before they could start pestering him to 'take it easy'. He leaned heavily against the sink, taking a moment to simply breathe. Just the walk from the dining table to the bathroom leaving him breathless. Already he could feel another coughing fit about to come on. He looked up at himself in the mirror then froze at what he saw.

He reached a hand up and touched his wet cheek and looked at it. His eye... It was leaking oil. His ears too. Even his nose.

"Well fuck. That's unfortunate." He says, oil running from his mouth as the words left him.

Ok. This was bad. This was a very bad sign. He hunched over as another coughing fit took hold of him violently, leaving him holding onto the sink tightly so he doesn't fall over. He tried to get a breath in but only ended up breathing in the oil he was coughing up, sending him into an even worse coughing fit. He lurched, throwing up oil into the sink, the porcelain cracking under his tight grip as his vision swam with oil. He could feel it leaking down his face, see it blurrily dripping off his nose.

Oh shit. Was he going to actually die like this? He was expecting to go down in a fight or motorcycle accident- the latter being more likely- but not like this. Leaking oil everywhere and suffocating with no idea what the fuck was going on with him.

"Cry, you alright in there? You've been gone a while..." Jay says from the other side of the bathroom door, both nervous and worried.

Well, maybe not alone. He threw up again and Jay must have heard because he opened the door- then promptly shrieked.

"What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?!" He yelled, eyes darting around, trying to think of something to stop his friend from possibly dying.

Jay you fucking idiot.

He didn't have the strength to say it and hardly had enough to not pass out. The sink was the only thing keeping him mostly upright.

"What is it?!" Kai yelled as he and the others rushed over to see Cryptor weakly coughing over the sink, oil flowing from his eye, ears, nose and mouth like a fountain. "Shit! Move it Jay!" He yelled, shoving him aside and rushing in with Zane and Cole.

"He is losing a fatal amount of oil." Zane advised as they proved his fingers away from the edges of the sink, all three of them taking on his weight once he crumpled without the sink as support.

"Thanks for the update Zane we can clearly see that!" Cole snapped as they heaved him up so they could carry him out.

Cryptor was fading in and out, hearing muffled yelling and seeing blurred movements.

Tired...

Sleep...

__________

When he woke next, he felt as if he was run over by a truck. His head was throbbing painfully, his throat felt as if he swallowed razors and his entire abdomen felt like a giant sore.

"Look who's awake." He glanced down from his place on the couch, laid back with a pillow under his head and a blanket thrown.

Kai was there seated on the armrest, looking down at him.

"You scared the shit out of us, I hope you know that." He huffed, looking run down and Cryptor frowned.

Seeing him look like that made him feel...

"It would have passed." He spoke quietly, his voice raspy and irritating his already sore throat.

"More like you would have passed." Kai huffed, wanting to be angry but knew it wasn't his fault per say. "And no talking. You sound like shit." He says with a weak smile.

"Ah. Cryptor. Glad to see you are awake." Wu says as he and Zane walked in.

"Glad to be awake." He rasps, ignoring Kai's glare. "I just needed some rest is all."

"You still do." Zane pointed out. "While your condition has improved with oil transfusions and rest, Sensei Wu and I estimate it will take a few days for you to be your usual self again." He told him.

"I'm fine. It was just a bug." He told them shifting to sit up but startling when hands pushed him down.

He immediately flipped them, Cole grunting once he landed on the ground next to the couch.

"Forgot about that little trigger." Cole wheezed, deciding to lay there to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him from the impact.

Cryptor began coughing again and Kai handed him a rag before pushing him down fully on the couch.

"No more flipping anybody." He says sternly.

"Kai is right. Your body requires time and rest for a proper recovery." Wu told him once his coughs came to an end, leaving him wheezing.

Wu then frowned.

"We have however yet to figure out the cause of your condition."

"About that Sensei." Zane says, turning to him. "Cryptor appeared fine before training- aside from initial exhaustion. It was during the middle to last leg of training when something changed. I think I know what." He says, gaining everyone's attention.

"Well? Spit it out already." Jay says from behind the couch, keeping his distance so he doesn't get flipped too.

"His coughing fits started up during that timeframe and only got worse. What stood out is shortly after he called for a break. He said 'It was getting hard to breathe behind the mask'. I may not know how but it's safe to assume that the cause of his sudden ailment is connected to the mask." Zane told Wu who hummed ad he thought it through.

"It's passed already. I'm fine." Cryptor insists, sounding and looking weak.

Kai looked at the oil stained rag he held close then at him with an unimpressed expression before looking back to Zane and Wu.

"... The Oni Masks were made to be used by Oni whom are far more resilient than any human or Nindroid alike..." Wu says in thought before looking to Zane. "That appears to be the case. Non-Oni cannot use the masks for very long. It is safe to assume as well the time limit for humans is even shorter than a Nindroid's." He looked to Cryptor next.

"Worn for long enough, the masks may even kill. You must limit your usage of the Mask of Vengence from now on Cryptor. For the sake of your health." Wu told him sternly.

"I'm o-" He was interrupted by a well timed coughing fit proving his words wrong.

"You Cry, are going to rest whether you like it or not." Kai says threateningly, expression worried as he watched him shake with each cough.

By the time he was done, he was light headed again with more oil running from his eye. He wiped it away from the unsoilded side of the rag before letting his body go limp, his headache moving on from throbbing to pounding. He closed his eyes to try and shut out the pain.

______________

Cryptor found himself waking up, confused as to when he even passed out. A look around showed that it was almost sun up. He blinked down at the blanket tucked under his chin, noticing that it had stray drops of oil. As far as to his stomach. He didn't recall having a coughing fit that bad to projectile cough oil that far. He must have done it while he was out... He noticed a shift in the room and looked down- only to blink at the sight of all four ninja asleep in front of the couch he was in, heads on their pillows and blankets draped over their persons...

On the floor.

They're that worried huh. He closed his eye again. He thought he was about to die back there so he suppose they have reason to be. Well... If him taking it easy is what they want then... He sighed softly.

I suppose there's no harm in that.

____________________

(Hi I love Cryptor. Not as much as Sayijo because no-one loves Cryptor more than them but close enough. I hope I did this justice! Also Cryptor is his own warning, ok. But for now... *Looks at my WIPs while sweating nervously* I hope you guys liked it!)

[skyresswrites]

Relax

Male Dalish Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus

Summary - During Trespasser, Inquisitor is struggling with the pain in his arm, Dorian is close to ripping his hair out.

“Inquisitor you can take a few moments to relax –“, “Cullen the sooner these qunari are dealt with the better, I promise I’m –“ before the elf could finish speaking his left arm lights up in a harsh bright green. The man grips his arm and grits his teeth. The blonde male next to him sighs and scratches the back of his head awkwardly. The light fades after a few tense moments, the elf let go of his arm. “Inquisitor please at least – “the elf turns and looks at his commander. “Cullen, I promise it’s nothing. Now does that conclude our meeting?”. Cullen nods at him and goes to the round table in the centre of the room. The human begins to pick up the reports scattered along the surface. The elven male turns and heads towards the door, the door is opened by the guard and closed once he leaves. Cullen stops for a moment to look at where the inquisitor left, worry clear on his face. The man mumbles a quick prayer for his friend and leader, organizing the reports, picking them up, and leaving the room himself.

 As the inquisitor walked through the Orlesian court, he could feel the nobles watching him. He had to admit, this visit to the Winter Palace had gone a lot better than the last. Less nobles sneering at him and calling him ‘knife ear’ or ‘savage’. Of course, there were still the nobles who did not care he saved the world and their empress, not being able to see past his ears or the vallaslin on his face. He walked past Vivienne who was chatting to Varric at the fountain. Looking at the fountain from the corner of his eye he once again questions how expensive it would have been, golden gryphons were not exactly cheap. Even for an Empress. The elf passed through the arch and starts to walk towards the outdoor lounge, the lounge was surrounded by potted greenery.

 The elf came to a stop next to a human male lounging on one of the lounges. From what he could see the male was reading an old tome, most likely magic. He tried to read one of the lines, but magic never made much sense to him no matter how many times Dorian tried to explain it. He bent down kissing the other on the head, moving to the other end of the lounge. He reached down and briefly moved the other’s legs to sit down. The male looked up from his reading glaring at the elf and placed his legs on top of the elf’s lap.

 “Finally done with the meeting Mahanon?” the tan male asked raising an eyebrow. “For now. Dorian are you able to come with me again? I know you were hit last time”. Worry was evident on Mahanon’s face. Dorian scoffs, closing his book and setting it down. “Yes of course I’m fine”. Mahanon goes to say something but stops, gripping his arm suddenly. The green light illuminates the small space around the two. Dorian reacts quickly, sitting up and leaning closer to the elf. He grabs illuminated arm and mutters a spell incarnation. The green light dims slightly. Mahanon can take a breath and thanks Dorian. He only nods, a look of concern still on his face. After a few more minutes pass and eventually the light fades.

 Mahanon stands and stretches his arms out, he looks back at Dorian a smile on his face. “Let’s go get Bull and Varric. Kick some qunari ass”, he started to walk away but stopped when he noticed the mage wasn’t following. He turned to look at Dorian confusion showing clearly. “With all due respect love that can wait. You need to rest” Dorian pleaded. The elf shook his head. “Vhenan you know I can’t. we still have no idea what the qunari are plan to do or what dragon’s brea- “he didn’t get a chance to finish. Dorian stood to his feet now clearly agitated. “Amatus for fuck sake sit down and rest, I don’t care about the rest of the world right now. I care about my boyfriend who is working himself to death” the outburst shocked Mahanon.

 “Ok Dorian I promise I will but – “, “no buts, just please Amatus rest”. The worry was clear in Dorian’s voice and his face, a little bit of fear as well. “Ok then “, Mahanon stepped towards Dorian and grabbed his hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze and smiled at his love. The two started to walk towards the inquisitor’s quarters that had been gifted to Mahanon during their stay.

 The walk took them back through the main courtyard, past the fountain. Vivienne no longer there, Varric now talking to his seneschal. They passed the tavern; Bull and his chargers having taken over the place. Cole was hovering outside the tavern, watching Maryden play one of her songs. Their walk continued pass, the sleeping quarters not being too far from the tavern. Mahanon tried to converse throughout the walk but would only receive short replies.

 As they approached the quarters, two Inquisition guards stood outside the door. They two saluted and opened the door, closing it once both males passed. Mahanon let go of Dorian’s hand walking over to the dresser in the corner of the room. He began to dress out of his formal wear and into more comfortable clothing. Dorian had walked over to the fireplace, having lit the fire. Dorian was seated on the lounge, Mahanon coming over to sit next to the other male.

 Silence filled the room. Time passed Dorian suddenly breaking the tension. “I can’t lose you. Not now” Mahanon turned to look at Dorian’s face, watching him as he spoke. “I may have been able to handle losing you earlier, but dammit you mean too much to me now Mahanon. I’m scared of that; I’m scared to lose you”. Mahanon reached for Dorian’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “Dorian you aren’t going to lose me, not anytime soon. This I swear to you”, Dorian finally looked his lover in the eye. “You promise?” “of course, Vhenan, I will always come back to you, no matter what I would have to go through to do so”. Mahanon leaned forward and place a gentle kiss to Dorian’s head. “Amatus?”, “yes Dorian?”. “Please just rest today, we can worry tomorrow”. Mahanon nodded and smiled, wrapping an arm around Dorian’s shoulders and relaxing.

[advancedstudioproductionkwc]

This is an intermediate stage of the “background” to the piece I presented today in class. This is what I listened to (with a single ear effectively) whilst improvising the tentative and somewhat random sounding piano parts I added to this “background”. I’ve decided that each of the pieces I present this semester in this course will be modelled on the rather beautiful proportions of the prelude from Wagner’s opera “Tristan und Isolde” and be of that length as well.

I intend to make a full high-fidelity 4-channel recording of the failing, interrupted and “broken” file of the piece as heard after midnight outside the Coles at the end of Elizabeth Street (which is a different orchestral performance and recording to the one I have used here). I will compose a broken, fully notated and yet fragmented and tentative piece for piano to be accompanied by the fully spatialised recording of the way this “broken prelude” sounds in real space. I may then apply some of these same filtering, stretching and resonating techniques to the “realistic” recording so that gradually it acquires some of that same “oceanic” quality.

The placing of such a piece outside Coles in what I would describe as a pretty degraded and sometimes highly dangerous part of the city fascinates me. I’m not surprised (nor dismayed) to have heard Italian opera arias, Dvorak “New World Symphony” and other “warhorses” (interesting term that isn’t it?) used as sonic warfare against the drunks and "Blue Lotus” addicts that horizontally line the streets in this part of “the most livable city in the world”. I have walked many times past this supermarket and one night I noticed that this piece, the prelude to the opera I have seen the most times on stage, which I quote constantly and which is a clear point of origin for one important strand of early modernism (”expressionism”) was being played but the file was corrupted, gappy, coming in and out in a kind of microcosmic relation to the ebbs and flows of the original piece. That is, the rapid ebbing and flowing of the real sound was almost like a horrible parody of the vast ebbs and flows written into the score but which take place over long stretches of time. Even though the climaxes of each Act are positively volcanic in live performance a great deal of the music is delicate and quiet for very long stretches of time (another innovation of Wagner’s). Very little music before this piece has such a strong connection to water, the oceanic, the immersive. The 1st Act is set on a ship, the 2nd features a fountain (beautifully evoked in the music) and the 3rd act is set in a castle overlooking a calm and empty sea as a dying Tristan awaits the boat carrying his adulterous lover Isolde to him (there’s a beautiful essay by Susan Sontag about water in this opera). The words of the final “aria” where Isolde sings of the bliss of sinking into unconsciousness, singing of the breathing of the universe are an incredibly vivid image of the crashing of waves over a drowning person and re-appear repeatedly in pieces like “La Mer” by Debussy and the soundtracks of many Hollywood films dealing with the sea.

So outside Coles, after a terrible night of dealing with men wanting illicit sex, drunks wanting a place to rest, addicts begging for change, in a workplace full of all the dangers of the contemporary world I hear the achingly beautiful music of this prelude and instantly a whole world of associations opens up. My mind filled in the “gaps” of the broken file but somehow incorrectly. My piece is all about those gaps in the real that give rise to desire, by definition insatiable.

This opera is not just the world’s most pretentious “love triangle”, it is about the conflict between the world of the “day” (law, culture, property, the ego etc) and the “night” (symbolising the unconscious, the flow of desire, the impossible union of people in a community of two we call romantic love). In the story of the opera the Irish princess Isolde is carried across the sea to be married to a King by a knight Tristan (his name literally means sadness) who is the King’s nephew but they fall in love, a love which is consummated only in death and singing.

It is breathtakingly beautiful in a rare great performance. The chord in the third bar of the prelude has kept musicologists busy for more than a century and has been quoted by countless subsequent composers in a variety of ways: other than the beautiful quotation of it in Berg’s “Lyric Suite” (itself a coded love letter to his mistress) I find particularly interesting the change from Debussy’s entirely sincere usage of it to set the word “triste” in his early opera “Pelleas and Melisande” to the entirely sarcastic use of it in the “Golliwog’s Cakewalk” in the “Children’s Suite” for piano near the end of his life after his turn against Wagner in favour of a kind of French nationalism (need I point out the corrosive presence of a performative irony in the racial colouring of such a title?). It also celebrates (much like the incestuous relationship of Siegmund and Sieglinde in the Ring cycle) a revolt of desire against the merely “socially correct”.

This is a piece that attempts to avoid resolution by every means possible. It is ostensibly in A minor but look how many accidentals there are, how many times dissonances are held in suspension. The dissonant chord in the 3rd bar is really only resolved properly in the very last bars of the whole opera, some 3 hours later. Accordingly (pun intended) I had the comb filters constantly slide towards that resolution the harmonies seemingly desperately desire only to slide back again and again to the 3rd bar. At one point as well I engineered the tackiest possible resolution of the dissonance in the piano parts, poisoned by the difference in tuning between the “cultural” (and hence entirely “normalised”) tuning of 12 tone equal temperament and the second piano part which is tuned in accordance with the “natural” overtones of A (which sounds “out of tune”).

So this piece is in effect a kind of distorted memory of the original, a fantasy on its themes of intoxication and social control and an attempt to make the piece strange again now that it is safely ensconced in the “canon”.

I’m also considering making some new comb filters in Audiomulch tuned to the sometimes shockingly ugly sounds of the “Tristan chord” (B F D# G#) in other overtone tunings and making a piece out of those.

PS: this opera is also HILARIOUSLY vulgarised by Franz Waxman in the dreadful Joan Crawford film “Humoresque” from 1946. Waxman moves quickly from bits of the prelude, to the long love scene that takes up most of the second act, to the final act. He arranged these bits almost without regard to their actual harmonic and musical implications for violin and piano solos with full orchestra. It’s such a terrible piece of work that without fail makes me laugh because I recognise the harmonies enough to expect a particular consequence of a phrase then the music will jump at random to some other harmony when Wagner could probably spend 20 minutes getting from one to the other. When I first discovered this opera as a teenager (because I read that my then hero Schoenberg’s piece “Transfigured Night” was criticised as sounding like someone had smeared the score of Tristan while still wet and amusing you can hear my piece linked here as attempting exactly that) my mother who loved soppy Hollywood movies immediately recognised the music but hated the singing. Of course Wagner and this piece in particular is the source of more than 100 years of musical tropes illustrating “passion” or “pain” in music. It is of course incredibly beautiful in an overwhelming way and often reduces me to tears. Wagner is the Steven Spielberg of music but with the “machinery” as carefully hidden as the joins in phrases. He is also a masterclass in long range harmonic thinking and listening (I highly recommend diving deep into Wagner at an early age as it ameliorates your tendency to boredom and tunes your ears to resonate to harmonic moves stretched over the span of an hour or more). Of course, what makes this malignantly seductive music fascist to the core isn’t its occasional forays into a “military” soundworld but rather its dedication to aesthetic illusion above all, its beauty and its desire to flood the listener with sensation that you cannot take a critical distance from. Wagner is, as Adorno pointed out, fascist to the core not because of his terrible words about Jews but because of its commitment to art as a kind of magical spell that dissolves the individual and their borders. I also think that Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe was entirely correct to think of National Socialism as National Aestheticism: only in German does “ugly” also mean “hateful”. It amuses me therefore that Wagner’s music ended up in a ridiculous Hollywood melodrama, mutilated and stitched back together like Frankenstein’s creation by a Jewish emigre composer in Hollywood. To use one of Hitler’s favorite operas (Hitler is of course the locus classicus of the toxic opera queen) after the “victory over fascism” for a Joan Crawford movie about the redemptive power of art is camp as fuck (precisely because it is done with an entirely straight face). The fact that I have seen with my very own eyes people swoon with delight over this shoddy piece of work makes it even funnier: possibly the worst idea of Western civilisation is the neo-Platonist identification of the beautiful with the true and the good. One of the reasons for my intense interest in the fate of “culture” during the Third Reich is the manner in which the highest ideals of western civilisation are finally revealed there (by the very “people” that invented some of them) as a cheap veneer over barbarism: Adorno was correct to say that after Auschwitz both culture and its urgently necessary critique (ie. his own life’s work) are garbage.

There’s an awfully vulgar video of the Waxman “Tristan Fantasia” on Youtube that illustrates almost everything terrible about “Western classical music” and how it now functions as an ideological apparatus.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YOrRAvmUV2c

[witchery-bitchery-witchery]

Hello ! Can I ask you how you have done your anti anxiety jar ? I may gonna have a job soon and I know I'm gonna have a lot of panic attack ^^' Thank you ~

YOU SURE FUCKIN CAN

I have just reblogged the post with detailed instructions on how to make the jar! My only addendum is that I cleansed the jar with a sat water spray recently because I felt that the jar was lessened in effects. All of my spells can be found under the #cole’s cheap as fuck spell series

I wish you all the best with your new job!