#crepuscle

[venustapolis]

Crepúculo (Joan Brull Vinyoles, 1899)

[negreabsolut]

Crepuscle, per Joan Brull. Oli en tela, 54 x 81 cm; entre 1895 i 1911.

[hanna-yoh]

[gbhbl]

Album Review: Veriteras - The Dark Horizon (Self Released)

United States, Seattle based melodic death metal quartet, Veriteras, are back with their second full-length album, The Dark Horizon, due for release April 11th. Veriteras is an old-school melodic death metal band based in Seattle, Washington. Formed in 2018, they are inspired by the Scandinavian melodic death scene (early-era In Flames, Dark Tranquillity, Kalmah), and strive to write heavy songs…

[minimaeclectica]

Stefan Johansson - Sommarkväll (1935)

[kkatheriine]

Vibe “Crepúsculo” 🌑🍃

[onlyhurtforaminute]

UADA-RETRAVERSING THE VOID

[albertotal]

[random-brushstrokes]

Joan Brull - Crepuscle (ca. 1899)

[omegaremix]

Omega Radio for July 16, 2022; #317.

Mom: “Things Come Into Place”

Bambounou: “Temple”

Blawan: “Klade”

Spiritflesh: “Menace”

Christoph De Babalon: “Ether”

Jay Glass Dubs: “Mordecai Dub”

Airhead: “Pyramid Lake”

Icky Reels: “Chunky Gloss”

Muslimgauze: “Full Metal Yashmak”

MssingNo: “Guiders”

Flyamsam: “The Offbeat”

Kazu: “Salty”

Cherushii & Maria Minerva: “A Day Without You (Leech)”

Ago: “Above”

Champagne Mirrors: “Tunnel 13”

French Fries ft. Bambounou: “Kepler”

Haircuts For Men: “Dead Friends”

Kedr Livanskiy: “Boy”

Nick Klein: “Tambourine Man”

Beauty Pill: “At A Loss”

Maria Chavez: “Civitella #3”

Trim: “Seeker”

Zigtrax: “A2”

Satoshi & Makoto: “Crepuscle Leger”

Flora Yin Wong: “Eve”

Arushi Jain: “Under The Lilac Sky”

Public Service Broadcasting: “Lichtspiel III: Symphonie Diagonale”

Paper Dollhouse: “Space III”

Free Love: “Love Is Love”

Iguana Moonlight: “V”

Sugar High: “Ugly”

Nite Jewel: “To Feel It”

Girlpool: “Nothing Gives Me Pleasure”

Mount Kimble: “Maybes” (James Blake RMX)

L.A. Vampires & Cologne: “Search4Love”

True Blossom: “Serious Boys”

Pond: “Human Touch”

Unknown Me: “Traffic (Taipei)”

Grimes: “Shinigami Eyes”

Chvrches ft. Robert Smith: “How Not To Drown”

Mr. Kitty ft. Pastel Ghost: “Habits”

Deftones: “Knife Prty” (Purity Ring RMX)

Health X Poppy: “Dead Flowers”

El Perro Del Mar ft. Blood Orange: “Alone In The Halls”

New Mexican Stargazers: “Freeway Enlightenment”

Double deluxe Omega: electronics and pop.

[spectraltenkai]

Song: Le Souvenir avec le crepuscle

Day 24 brings the very star of Fontaine in the world of Teyvat, FURINA!

Without any spoilers, all I'm going to say is... dang. I went from not liking her outward personality in the plot's first act to instantly coming close to tears in the third one. She deserves a long vacation, and I didn't realize how much she grew on me, let alone overtake the favorite archon spot over Venti- and that says something in my book. Besides, I love her design a whole bunch! Her Ousia design is my favorite between the two!

Wanted to make a simple and funny pic on her being caught eating dessert- also why was the hardest thing to draw the freaking food??

[negreabsolut]

Llum, malgrat tot.

[gentlelass]

Strange creatures, those of St. Louis

21st September 1927, US, Missouri, St. Louis.

Marjorie ‘Margo’ Ford sat and waited on a bench in the park, the imperceptible sound of her own and her companion’s breath sole company in the dreaded waiting that came before a hit.

Where Serafine Savoy would have found the hunt to be the best part of a hit, Marjorie Ford thought it to be the worst.

Ghost-like figure in her silence, just as ephemeral as the quickly ever-changing, ever-dancing lights and shadows of dusk. Her pale face was impassive, devoid of any emotion that might betray what was happening around her. Her eyes, daggers of gold which could pierce through steel, watching everything with dispassionate scrutiny. She wasn’t looking at the park and its sights, however. Rather, the crows reunited at her feet, almost as if the universe itself was mocking her, really - the crows, birds of ill-omen by definition… and the gunwoman feeding them. Oh, the irony! Marjorie thought bitterly. Feed them, feed the damned, and they would come back in her dreams with blood in their beaks! Or, more likely, it wasn’t the crows the problem but rather her own guilt tripping her… still, the birds had a way of irritating her.

The hit itself was… well, quick for a lack of a better term. As many killers have stated before, once you shot one bullet, you thrust a blade, you can’t exactly stop to think. It’s a daze, almost a fever dream, you don’t know when or how it starts, and neither when or how it stops. You just know that the moment before you’re clean, physically and mentally, and the moment after you’re sweaty, bloodied, panting and overall in dire need of a change of clothes, and quite possibly, soul.

But the hunt. Oh, the hunt. Prepare, check, search, ambush, wait. And when you wait, you think, and thinking always is a bad idea, for those who have a dirty conscience.

You know what they say, from where I come from? ‘Occhio non vede, cuore non duole’. Literally, ‘when the eye doesn’t see, the heart doesn’t ache’. Or, more metaphorically, ‘out of sight, out of mind’.

The morale of it? ‘Don’t think, just act’. That was the way Margo should have gone about her hits, if she wanted to come out of this half sane - if she ever did, come out of this American underworld she found herself stuck in, that is.

The only problem being, Marjorie Ford had always been an overthinker.

It was a cold night, too. Despite the fact that it had rained earlier in the day, the humidity remained heavy and damp, like a veil drawn over the city, obscuring any chance of sight, let alone breath. Marjorie could feel herself suffocating under the layers of it. And perhaps it was also the layers of her shawl draped over her shoulders, and her head as well, concealing her features almost like the veil of a nun. Except, the lady was far from it - her camouflage was more a need than a vow, and for all the wrong reasons at that. Not to avoid sin but rather to hide it, perhaps the suffocation that came with it was just karma.

Well, better smothered by a mantle than by the hands of a cop.

Margo threw yet another piece of bread at the ravens, and the vicious circle that were her thoughts began yet again.

There was another person lurking around the park tonight. His uniform, carrying the same emblem of Margo’s… and so was his mood.

In his own peculiar way, Mordecai Heller was interested in the crows too. Such… well, peculiar, creatures, indeed. Strange, creatures. Volatiles, animals, sacks of flesh, blood and instinct… and yet so intelligent, their eyes so shiny, their beaks so sharp, their claws so able. Not quite as dull as pigeons, and neither as… sickly, yet also not quite to his liking either.

And so was the veiled woman accompanying him on this subfusc crepuscle, much to his own dismay or not, he wasn’t sure about it.

Marjorie Ford, strange woman just as much as the crows were strange birds.

Strange creatures.

Mordecai sat on the edge of that same bench, in a park in St. Louis, trying to keep a certain distance between himself, that woman and those… ravenous ravens. They might not be as dull and sickly as pigeons, but you know what they say, ‘better safe than sorry’. And the same concept applied to… that strange woman, as well. Not quite as rowdy as the Savoy sibilings, Mordecai would have almost found her presence tolerable, if he could have found it at all that is. The truth is that she was tolerable because she almost wasn’t there, a refreshing change of pace from the insufferable Savoys, whose presence was as much unforgettable as it was unrequested. Refreshing, but not completely welcomed either, rather unnerving for a lack of a better term. The way she would go about their hits, wrapped in a stole like the Virgin Mary… or more like Bloody, Mary, in this case. Quite the clever choice actually, although he would never say it outright - the red colour, although it wasn’t the most surreptitious of all for a gunwoman who was meant to go unnoticed, it would also conceal traces of blood, as well as weapons and all manner of unGodly artillery in her not-so-Saintly hands, stained of blood indeed, but only metaphorically… thanks to that shawl of hers indeed. Garbed that way, she somewhat reminded him of his mother - and that only added to the unnerving vibe of it all.

The way she would clutch her purse as if it contained her soul - ‘soul’, read: Luger P08.

The way she would follow him like a shadow on a hit: she didn’t speak, barely breathed, and would practically mimic him in his movements, his methods of… hitting the hit. Was it out of inexperience? Or was it HIM, the one who was subconsciously copying HER? Mordecai didn’t know. Just like he didn’t know where Miss Ford lived. Only where she did not, live: that being the Maribel Hotel. As meticulous as he was, he had probed, checked, investigated, and turns out they had never heard of a Marjorie Ford at the reception; Mordecai had tried three different spells of the the name ‘Marjorie’, had tried going for Margo Ford, Margo-t, but nothing. Well, that was still in his favour, wasn’t it? The less he had to hang about the Maribel Hotel, the less time he had to spend around the Savoys. Or Mr Sweet and his dysfunctional jokes. Or that… invasive Miss of a certain Zulie. Mordecai shuddered, at the tought of her touch on him, and the touch of Seraphine’s blade that had came right after it. As much as stoic as he could be, as much as he could have the sensitivity of a table spoon in more ways than one, Mordecai Heller was just a man under the veneer of cold elegance, just as susceptible to Mr Sweet’s dubious sense of humor, Miss Zulie’s flirtations, just as susceptible to pain - both of the flesh and the mind, as well as the hunger of the former - as any other man.

But hey! Now there was Marjorie Ford in his life, and the more Miss Ford, the less Serafine, Nicodeme, and… Zulie.

Well, she wouldn’t be able to save him from Asa Sweet, but she wasn’t safe from his ire - more like feigned joy, in this case - either, and, well, a trouble shared is a trouble halved, isn’t it?

Strange woman, this Miss Ford… but one whose presence would play to his advantage, in the grand scheme of things. And Mordecai Heller always, thinks ahead.

… if only she could QUIT attracting this pesky, petty, PESTIFEROUS avifauna to their stalking spot though— didn’t she know how unhygienic that was?!

——————————————————

Hey there, sweet folk of Tumblr! Yes, I have already RETURNED with my feverish passion for Lackadaisy, this time burning in the form of writing! Have this little… uh… fanfic? Scenario? One-shot? Picturing lovely Margo and Mordecai on one of their first hits together. They don’t know each other quite well - and it shows. One barely notices the other, and the latter goes on a mental rant trying to figure out the former.

As you may have noticed I am very psychological in my writing, going for thoughts rather than actions, and I’ve tried to get inside the characters’ heads as much as possible. I frankly don’t know how much of a good job with Mordecai: he is a very nuanced character after all, plus an adult man, where I am just a lass - I’m not sure how realistically did I picture him, I don’t know how a grown man thinks, I can just hope it’s as close to canon as possible.

To a lighter note though! Thank you All for the support I’ve been receiving until now, the likes, the reblogs and the comments! Really, you’ve sent me into something dangerously close to a sugar-high… should I call it a love-high?❤️

I may or may not try to draw an illustration based on this later in the day and then post it.

[queersrus]

Night theme

tagging: @bpdxhoardic, @reflectedflowers, @hewasanamericangirl

(Nick)Names:

night, nightly/nightley, nightlight, noc, noct, noctu, nocurn/nocturne, nocturna, nocturnal, nightsky, nyx/nix, nisha, nox, nisa, nishant, nightingale, nuit, nightfall, nighttide, natt/nat, nate, nyght, nite, nyte, noc, nacht, noite, nychta, nott, notte, nakts, naktis, nuecht, noapte, noch, nightine/nightyne, nightet/nightett/nightette, nich, nos, nighteta/nightetta, nightel/nightell/nightelle, nightela/nightella, nightello, nighter, noctis, nattetid, nachtzeit, notturne, noaptea lune, luna, lunar, lilith, laylah/layla/laila/leila, lisha, lyra, late amaya, ayla, altair, achlys, ajambo, anniki, asra knox, koko ciara, crep, crepu, crepus, crepuscu, crepuscul/crepuscule, cepescula, crepuscular, crepuscle ilta jemisha miyako, mesanychta, mesnata, midnight, midniht, minuit, murk shirina, sanja, sunset, sundown, shade, starlight budde gau, gloom, gloam, glim orpheus, otieno, obscure, obscura, obscuri, obscurity, oiche, oidhche, oinen ponui yiska, yvaine, to dyrk, dusk, dark, dim, dimmet, decline eve, even, evening, eventide, evenfall, ebb, end, ejszaka twi, twili, twila, twilight, tiphina hesperia vesper ryna wane

list1 - list2 - list3 - list4

1stp prns: i/me/my/mine/myself

ni/ne/nii/nightine/nightself di/de/du/duskine/duskself ei/eve/evi/evenine/eveself ei/eve/eveni/evenine/eveningself twi/twe/twili/twiline/twilightself ni/ne/ny/nyxine/nyxself ni/ne/nightti/nighttine/nightimes sti/ste/starli/starline/starliteself ni/ne/nightli/nightline/nightlightself

2ndp prns: you/your/yours/yourself

no/nighter/nighters/nighterself no/nighter/nighttimers/nighttimerself no/nighter/nightighters/nightlighterself no/nyxr/nyxrs/nyxrself du/dusker/duskers/duskerself eo/ever/evers/everself eo/eveningr/eveningrs/eveningrself sto/starlighter/starlighters/starlighterself two/twilighter/twilighters/twilighterself

3rdp prns: they/them/theirs/themself

ni/night/nights/nightself ni/ight, night/nights, night/time night/light ny/nyx/nyxs/nyxself ny/yx, nyx/nyxes dus/dusk/dusks/duskself du/sk, dusk/dusks ev/eve/eves/eveself e/ve, eve/eves eve/ning, evening/evenings star/light/starlights/starlights starlight/starlights twi/light/twilights/twilightself twilight/twilights

list1 - list2 - list3 - list4

Titles

the night, the nightlight, the night sky, the nightingale, the nocturnal, the midnight, the sunset, the nightguard, the nightcrawler, the dusk

(prn) who roams the night, (prn) who lives in the night, (prn) who loves the light, (prn) who wakes at dusk

this night, this sunset, this dusk, this nightlight, this nightingale, this nightcrawler

[venti-death-watch]

found out owllight is another way to refer to dusk/twilight/crepuscle. i will never recover

[historiadelart]

El diamant somriu al crepuscle

oli sobre llenç

Joan Miró

1947