#feat // boomi.

[visceralprayers]

jake breathed out a sigh, he didn't deserve the understanding, but maybe neither of them deserved this friendship, they both did bad, or at least, they were both forced into wrong decisions. he looked him over, then glanced outside, " I wish we could just talk without this... whole thing all the time. " he stepped back, " see you later? "

matteo hummed, " oh, I can bet on it. " he stepped out of august's way, " until next time, I suppose. " he wondered what august's part was in solaris' group. he didn't seem weak by any means, but he was difficult to read, a heavy contrast to those he was surrounded with.

solaris glanced up at his sister, he didn't grin or smirk, he saw actual negativity on her face that wasn't directed at him and felt the longing pull of familial protection, but he was not her brother, or at least, he wasn't anymore. he shook his head slowly, " not this time, I don't think. "

pope smirked, looking to the woman and then to eric, " something about her, you know? must run in the family, never understood your thing with the boss, but maybe it's whatever she's got. " he buried his hands in his pockets and straightened up, " ready when you are. "

grace nodded his head, moving towards the body and grimacing. he wasn't sensitive to gore by any means, but that was definitely a nasty way to go. he narrowed his eyes, biting his lower lip, " what are we doing with him? dragging him out? or burning him? " he looked towards matteo, " or feeding someone? " his lips twitched playfully.

boomi's brows pinched together as he was shoved into the nearest room but his expression seemed to soften as jake started talking . " i get it , " he murmured , shrugging his shoulders . " i still shouldn't have said it . " even if it was the truth . what jake did didn't help but it shouldn't have been thrown in his face like that .

" yeah i should have , " she agreed but she guessed duty called and she wasn't going to leave her people out here when anything could have happened . she looked back at hawk with a grin , " well , i will look forward to that . " link stepped back , " until next time . "

august glanced around , noting the others beginning to pack up and move back toward the gate . " appears so , " he hummed . maybe it wasn't surprising with what happened here today . " doubt it'll be the last time i see you . "

copper's lips almost twitched at pope's comment but she looked up when she heard the whistle . she looked back at pope . she wasn't expecting what he said and she couldn't help the way her expression almost softened as she nodded her head . she moved to the door but didn't bother to step outside as she simply stood in the doorway .

eli nodded his head to sol's words . he wasn't going to argue . he looked over at the home , noting copper standing in the door way . " you gonna say something to her ? " he asked unsure if solaris would simply leave it be for now .

eric turned away from solaris , eyes landing on pope as he nodded his head . " seems for the best , " he hummed before glancing toward copper . " but don't worry , you'll see her again . "

despite knowing the others were packing up , the tension was still there in dalton's shoulders . he sighed , " you're not wrong . " he looked back toward grace , " i'll handle it with you . " it was his fault anyway . he should have shut shit down with spencer a long time ago .

[elijahtheepic]

Sigh. Bickel feat oc x canon or smt

their ship name is boombickel

I am cringe but I am free!

this is not the boom mic from bfdi/tpot. don’t say that.. NO … boomy is their own being 😁 they are snake

[dangerous-string-tourney]

IT'S ALL OVER!!

CONGRATULATIONS TO BRIDGET, THE ULTIMATE DANGEROUS STRING WIELDER

It went back and forth a lot and I'm pretty sure everyone was winning at one point or another but Bridget managed to edge it with just under 3 percent to take the crown! an impressive feat with only 2 submissions compared to Doflamingos 8. (and in this biased poll runners opinion, a very well deserved win for the yo-yo lovers out there, undeniably the coolest type of dangerous string.

Doffy however did put up a good fight, with @onepiece-polls really putting in the work and rallying the troops, without your help it very well might not have been as tight, so thanks for the boost!

And finally Hornet, the little bug with a big heart. While she failed to keep up with the other 2, there was a hell of a lot of support for her in the tags and I'm still shocked by the size of her cheer squad, and ngl it's made me want to check out the game.

Thank you again to everyone that voted, as this final had over DOUBLE the votes from my last poll finals, I will be taking a couple of weeks break probably but hopefully some of you will join me again when I return for the

BEST BOOMY BOY BRACKET

(Coming soon)

[thtupidity]

I JUST DECIDED TO SAY FUCK IT ITS JUST GONNA BE ONE GROUP PIECE HERES THE SKETCH IMA DO MORE SKETCHES TO INCLUDE OTHERS

SNIVY AND MINCCINO.... I LOVE YOU BUT I NEED TO PRACTICE DRAWING THEM MROE

[visceralprayers]

jake wasn't sure why that statement would surprise boomi, of course he'd always been close to felix, and they were great friends, but boomi was just different. he made his way into the kitchen and opened the fridge with a sigh, " I could do-- ramen? or spaghetti? " he peaked his head around the door, " or we could order in. "

" i'm your favorite person ? " boomi questioned . he knew jake wasn't teasing him . he seemed very sincere in his words and he couldn't help the way his expression softened . " you're like my favorite person too . " he leaned in , pressing a quick kiss against jake's lips before moving off his lap , " i'm always hungry . "

[greatworldwar2]

• Len Waters (Australian RAAF Pilot)  

Leonard Victor (Len) Waters was the first Aboriginal Australian military aviator, and the only one to serve as a fighter pilot in the Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF) during World War II.

The fourth of 11 children to Donald and Grace Waters, Len Waters was born at Euraba Mission, near Boomi in northern New South Wales on June 20th, 1924. He grew up at Nindigully, near St George, Queensland, and was educated to the seventh grade at Nindigilly State School. Hearing tales of pioneering aviators Charles Kingsford Smith, Amy Johnson, and Charles Lindbergh, and reading stories of Flash Gordon, and Buck Rogers, he had, as he put it, his "head in the clouds" from an early age. Waters left school when he was 14 to support his family, working alongside his father as a ring barker.

Although the military had officially barred or restricted the recruitment of Aborigines in earlier periods, these impediments were significantly relaxed after Japan entered World War II, and Australia came under direct attack for the first time. Waters volunteered for service in the RAAF on August 24th, 1942, at Brisbane, and was accepted. He began training as an aircraft mechanic, but later volunteered for flying service, and commenced initial training at Somers, Victoria, in December 1943. The aircrew interviewer thought he looked "a bit rough" but "should make a fighter". Waters believed his lack of education would be a disadvantage, and studied nights to make up for it. Keen to be a pilot, he was concerned that he would be allocated to duty as a wireless operator because he showed an aptitude for Morse transmission early on. He was also asked to imagine himself as the tail gunner in a Lancaster or Halifax heavy bomber, to which he replied, "I had a very disappointed look on my face, sir!" So convinced was he that he would not achieve his dream of becoming an aviator, Waters made three separate bets against himself being selected, and had to pay out £15 when he was nevertheless chosen.

Waters undertook his basic flight instruction at No. 1 Elementary Flying Training School in Narrandera, New South Wales, where he flew De Havilland Tiger Moths. He completed his training on CAC Wirraways and received his wings as a sergeant pilot at No. 5 Service Flying Training School in Uranquinty. Posted to No. 2 Operational Training Unit at Mildura, Victoria, he converted to P-40 Kittyhawk fighters. Once, while he was on leave, Waters was reportedly gaoled in Moree, New South Wales, for not carrying an identity card, which was one of the racially discriminatory institutions affecting Aborigines at the time. On November 14th, 1944, he was posted to No. 78 Squadron, a fighter unit based on the island of Noemfoor, off Dutch New Guinea. When he arrived, he was allocated a P-40 Kittyhawk. By chance, a previous pilot had nicknamed the plane "Black Magic" and painted those words on its nose. Waters found the name of his plane an amusing coincidence and chose to retain it.

By this stage of the war, Japanese aircraft were almost non-existent in the South West Pacific theatre; No. 78 Squadron's main role was ground attack, bombing and strafing enemy positions. Waters flew 95 sorties from Noemfoor, and later from the air bases at Morotai and Tarakan, in Borneo. During one mission, his aircraft was struck by a 37 mm cannon shell that embedded itself behind him in the cockpit without detonating. He flew for another two hours, with the possibility of the shell exploding at any time, a situation he likened to having a loaded gun against his head. "I'll tell you what", he said after returning to base, "that was the best landing I ever made". On January 1st, 1945, he was promoted to flight sergeant. By the end of the war, Waters was commanding operations which included commissioned officers. A colleague described him as a "gaunt, genial figure, humble despite his daring feats". One of Len Waters' brothers, Donald Edward Waters, had served as an infantryman with the Australian Army during the war. With the end of the Pacific War in September 1945, Len considered volunteering for the Australian component of the British Commonwealth Occupation Force in Japan, if his brother did also. Donald Waters declined at the time, so Len returned to Australia and left the air force with the rank of warrant officer on January 18th, 1946.

After returning to Australia, Waters attempted to start a regional airline serving South West Queensland. However, he was not able to secure finance or bureaucratic agreement. He reportedly wrote four letters seeking government approval, but never received a reply. He never flew a plane again. While racism in the military during World War II was considered to be minimal, Waters and other Aborigines who had served their country found that the skills they had acquired were not valued in peacetime. He wrote later that, having put off his uniform, he simply "returned to being a blackfellow". Four weeks after his discharge from the Air Force, Waters married Gladys Saunders, with whom he raised six children. He worked as an automotive mechanic, but was forced to cease by union rules, which required him to serve an apprenticeship. Waters was then briefly employed by a local council in Queensland as a road worker, before turning to sheep shearing, which took him away from his family to properties stretching from North Queensland to Victoria. Waters applied for housing commission accommodation and was allocated a house at Inala, Brisbane, in August 1956. He eventually bought the property and lived there for 33 years. He died on August 24th, 1993 at the age of 69 in Cunnamulla, and was buried in St George Cemetery.

In 1995, Waters was commemorated in several ways: Australia Post depicted his portrait on a stamp and that of his P-40 Kittyhawk fighter "Black Magic" on an aérogramme, as part of its Australia Remembers series; a brand of port was named after his personal Kittyhawk; Len Waters Place, a park in Inala, was opened; Moree Plains Shire Council dedicated Leonard Waters Park in Boggabilla, New South Wales; and Len Waters Street in Ngunnawal, Australian Capital Territory, was named after him. In 2003, Balonne Shire Council erected a monument to Waters and another local RAAF identity, Squadron Leader John Jackson, in St George. In 2011, the Sutherland Shire Council recognised Len Waters' memory and achievements by dedicating Len Waters Park, with a memorial plinth and plaque, at Timbrey Circuit, Barden Ridge, New South Wales.

[lebuc-reblogs]

Boomies Vs: Millinies take on ‘the Sun’:

..givin ‘em the who did it & what for - whether you like both and or either or..

enjoy:  

Eugene Record - “Here Comes the Sun” - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nP71Sccd2hU

Fusion Unlimited feat. Little Brother, Nickelus F., Hall of Fame & Skillz -  "The Sun"  -   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__9Fr9zTx3s

[marshmallow-phd]

Sculpted Raven Playlist

Oh, hey! Another Playlist!

Black Out - IU:  Today won’t ever come again, right? Of course it won’t, I don’t wanna remember from this moment on

We Young - Sehun and Chanyeol: The night is young, Take this place To just brush everything off, Clean up your complicated thoughts, yeah

Reset - Tiger JK Feat. Jinsil:  Lonely eyes trapped in darkness, Is there anyone to hold my hand? I wanna reset, I wanna reset, I wanna reset

Come On - CN Blue:  Come here to my fairy star, Now I am all alone, Hey, can you see me?

Nonsense - Younha:  No way, I’ve realized that I’ve been looking at you, It won’t do even if I hate it, stop it, or hide it, It can’t go on like this

Call Me Out - Loving Calliber: I look straight in your eyes, And everything is so hazy, It is Just you and I

Hanging by a Moment - Lifehouse:  I'm falling even more in love with you, Letting go of all I've held onto, I'm standing here until you make me move, I'm hanging by a moment here with you

Fire - Taeyeon:  I was looking at the silent sky, That reflects on the red-stained window, Then like a habit, I called out to you

How Not to - Dan + Shay:  But I don't know how not to think about you When it's late at night and crying, And I know that I ought to be the one who is strong and just moves on

Without You - Yoon Boomi:  Don’t come any closer, Don’t make me dream Run far away, I’m always dreaming a sad dream

With You - EXO:  Every single day I’m looking after you, And you’re looking at me, And like a mirror every expression, Even the way you speak, feels like it’s me

[miragetemple]

:ToZ/ToB: Memories Like a Mountain

Title: Memories Like a Mountain Rating: G Character/Pairing: Edna, Eizen, some OCs, Eizen & Edna Spoilers: Spoilers for both games, though mainly Zestiria. Words: 7,711 Summary: “Earth malakhim,” Eizen had once said, “have memories as strong as mountains. Where the winds of time chip away at and rob humans and malakhim alike of their memories, we’re blessed with the ability to remember everything. No matter how much time has passed.”

AN: This is the full, uncut version of the fic I wrote for @zinestiria​ many months ago! I’ve been dying to share it, and now I finally can~!

The main inspiration for this fic really was comparing how it felt for me to “lose” my brother after he left home for college. I imagine Edna probably felt the same, so I wanted to explore it and try to convey those feelings. It also helps that Eizen’s a total chatterbox about Edna in Berseria. Most of the major memories here were taken straight from ones he either recounted or hinted to have happened. I placed them as chronologically as I could figure them from his vague indications. Some aren’t completely accurate to what Eizen says happened, but....such is the price of writing on a time limit with minimal planning lol.

Please enjoy! Thank you to everyone in the zine who helped me cut down to what it needed to be for the zine version and thank you to my friends who beta’d the full version in preparation for today. Thank you also to @mez-zo​ for creating beautiful page border art to go with the fic in the zine.

AO3 | FFN | Here...

“Earth malakhim,” Eizen had once said, “have memories as strong as mountains. Where the winds of time chip away at and rob humans and malakhim alike of their memories, we’re blessed with the ability to remember everything. No matter how much time has passed.”

Blessed. Is that what it could really be called? True, the fact she could remember so much did come in handy. Like putting Meebo in his place, piquing Sorey’s interest, or filling in the gaps of Lailah’s own memory. She wouldn’t call those blessings, though. If anything, they were perks. A big difference. Outside of those perks, her memories only served as painful reminders of things she used to have—things she’ll never have again. What purpose did that serve except to capitalize on her loneliness?

Her limited understanding of the humans Eizen loved so much told her that most human memories start when they’re about four years old. For her, though, her memories start from the moment she opened her eyes after materializing from the earthpulse. Seraphim—or malakhim as they’d called themselves back then—aren’t normally born as babies, but she was a rare case—or so she’d been told. She hadn’t been a baby baby like Meebo had been, but she was small enough and close enough in age that she might as well have been one. She didn’t cry like a human baby, nor did she move much from where she formed, but her presence had been felt in the small seraphim village nearby. For a little while her vision had just been full of the blue sky above her, but then it was obscured by a face—Eizen’s face.

They blinked at each other, mutually curious about the unfamiliar sight. When he picked her up to look at her more closely, his hands had been bare and she can still remember the warmth that radiated from his palms. She’d felt the connection being drawn between them from the moment their eyes had met. As she reached out her stubby hand to childishly grab at his dumb nose the connection grew stronger and then it solidified. This smiling idiot was her brother, and though she was still new to the world at the time the realization of that bond made one thing clear to her: she wasn’t alone.

Many seraphim began learning to refine their artes very early on in life. For Edna, she started using artes subconsciously at an earlier age than most seraphim and it was only when a rock almost fell on her that Eizen began to properly teach her. Well, as best as he could, given their different fighting styles. She was a smart girl, though, so even with Eizen’s bumbling teaching methods she grasped how to control them quickly enough.

From there, it was just a matter of refinement. That happened over the course of several years, on and off. A new arte here, a different technique there, and though it was pointless to consider, she couldn’t help but compare herself to him in terms of their ability. He’d lived longer than her, so of course he knew more artes than her and could perform more powerful feats with his than she could. That didn’t stop her from trying to emulate him anyway, and every time the miscalculation of power came back to bite her. One time when trying to mimic one of the ice spells she saw him use, the arte came out too big and the backlash caused frostbite over both of her hands and forearms. Eizen’s mother hen tendencies got worse after that. Despite the lectures she’d get, his worried admonishment always came with the added assurance, “You’re fine as you are, don’t push or overwork yourself like that.”

Her first experience with a thunderstorm was a particularly strong memory. It was a warm Summer day in their tiny mountain village. At first there was just a light drizzle and Edna—age 7—stood under the awning of the simple house they lived in, watching the rain fall while staying dry. She hated the sensation of getting wet, but the sound of rain was nice. Calming. At least it was until the rain began to fall harder, chasing any remaining seraphim—except the weirdo water types—under shelter. As soon as she’d adjusted to the changed rhythm of the rain a bright flash of light and a loud BOOM that shook the ground beneath her feet had her shrieking and running into the house. Eizen, who’d been reading a book, barely had time to react before Edna crawled into his lap and clung tightly to him, hiding her face in his shoulder.

“Edna, what’s—” Eizen started, but was cut off when another clap of thunder resounded from outside.

It wasn’t as earth shaking as the first, but still powerful and loud and Edna’s shoulders tensed with the hitch of her breath.

“Ah,” he’d said, shifting only to mark his place and put the book down so he could gently pat Edna’s back in comfort, “we don’t normally get thunderstorms up at this altitude. This is the first one we’ve had in a while.”

“It’s loud,” she said, muffled slightly by his shoulder, “I don’t like it. Make it—eek!” Another thunderclap and she began to tremble, “Make it stop!”

Eizen chuckled before wrapping both arms around her, placing his other hand on the back of her head and petting her hair.

“That’s unfortunately not in my power to do, but it’ll go away on its own in a few minutes.”

Nonsense, she thought. Eizen was dumb, but he was bigger than her and stronger too.

“Yes you can, just punch it like you do everything else!”

Eizen laughed again, this time louder.

“I can’t punch the rain, Edna.”

“Not the rain, dumbo, the loud boomy thing!”

“The thunder,” he corrected her, “is just the sound of competing currents of electricity in the air. It can’t hurt you. Listen, the storm’s already passing.”

She did and he was right. The rain had gone back to its gentle drizzle and the latest clap of thunder was faint compared to the previous ones. This realization made her relax and lean back, though the ‘I told you so’ look on Eizen’s face made her harrumph and puff her cheeks out in annoyance.

“Whatever. You could’ve taken it.”

She left him with that as she ran to her room, Eizen’s boisterous laugh behind her.

Part of her had always known, somewhere in the back of her mind, that something was wrong with Eizen. A faint darkness always surrounded him, but he didn’t seem to mind it so neither did she. True, it did seem at the time like she got hurt or sick more often whenever Eizen was around, but those were nothing. Minor, annoying inconveniences if anything. Eizen, at the time, had also been making more and more trips down the mountain to the nearest human village. To get supplies, or so he’d always tell her. Every time he returned, the cloud was a little more visible.

Convinced the humans must be doing something to him, she tried to get him to stop going.

“Eizen, you should stop visiting those humans,” she’d said one evening.

She didn’t consider herself particularly close to any of the other seraphim in the village at the time. She didn’t need to be in order to find things out about the world she lived in. She’d overheard murmurs that most seraphim by then had adopted vagabond lifestyles—that seraphic villages like theirs were pretty much a relic of a dead era long before she was born. But the most important thing she’d overheard was whispers of judgement directed at Eizen, because while most of them did live in house-like structures Eizen was the only seraph in the village to fully adopt living like a human, even the unnecessary parts like eating. It worried her, for various reasons.

“Hm? Why?” He’d asked, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

She’d clicked her tongue. She knew this topic wouldn’t be easy, but Eizen’s stubbornness was another beast entirely.

“People are talking.”

“So?”

“They’re saying mean things about you!”

“And?”

“So you should stop hanging around earth-dwellers so much.”

“No.”

“Eizen!”

“What?!”

She narrowed her eyes into a glare, intending to be intimidating, but the effect wasn’t as potent as she wanted it to be. But she tried. Eizen was unaffected and just kept his arms crossed.

“Don’t you care about what the others think and say?” She finally asked after a few moments of a glaring contest between them.

“Not particularly. Never have. Do you?”

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again without a word, frowning instead. Idly, her fingers clenched around the handle of her closed umbrella—a gift Eizen had brought from the village a few weeks ago—and twisted it where it lay against her shoulder. Thinking on his question, there wasn’t really any reason for her to care what other seraphim thought, was there? It irritated her, sure, but it wasn’t the real issue. The real issue, she realized, was humans. Humans with their poisonous clouds of darkness, latching carelessly to Eizen and infecting him, draining him slowly of his essence. The closer they got to him, the more distant he felt to her. She didn’t understand it. The umbrella’s weight on her shoulder grounded her where she was. It really was a nice umbrella…

“No,” she finally answered, then changed the topic slightly, “but I want to meet these humans.”

It took some convincing and a lot of arguing, but finally Eizen caved and the next morning they both walked down the mountain towards the human village. On the way Eizen began to ramble about the history of the village. Edna feigned disinterest but didn’t actively try and stop him. The village, it turned out, was a proper, bustling town in the foothills of their mountain, though when Eizen had been younger—before she was born—the town had been a small hamlet coinciding with their own seraphic village. Many people at the time had lost their resonance, but there remained a few who could at least see Eizen when he visited, though the numbers steadily became smaller as time went on. Edna wondered why, then, Eizen bothered coming so much if most people couldn’t see him.

It turned out that, of the few people who could see him, this included a family of merchants who ran the town’s tavern. When she and Eizen entered there were only a few patrons in the main sitting area who wasted no time in complaining about the magically opening door. They barked their complaints then returned quietly to their drinks and their own conversations. The barkeeper, though, had the light of recognition in his eyes as he looked up and saw them before subtly motioning them over to a secluded part of the tavern where talking to oneself didn’t seem suspicious at all. He, Edna learned, was the great-great-something grandson of the human Eizen first met and resonance ran strong in their bloodline. He greeted her with a smile, but all she did was nod in acknowledgement. Then he and Eizen talked and clapped each other on the shoulder before Eizen ordered drinks for them both—beer for himself and hot chocolate for her. She watched these happenings unfold with only a little boredom, clutching her umbrella tightly against her shoulder. So far her impression of humanity was that they were loud and rude. Nothing about them seemed interesting enough to take her brother away.

When the barkeeper returned with their drinks he also set a small plate down in front of Edna. She stared at the flaky, vaguely heart shaped pastry in confusion before directing the look at him instead. It was something called a palmier, apparently. At Eizen’s encouragement she took a tiny bite out of it, expecting it to taste terrible. Instead, the sweetest taste she’d ever tasted flooded her mouth and before she could stop herself, the pastry was gone. Okay, so maybe humans could do some things alright.

After that, whenever Eizen went down to the village he’d always bring back a small box of palmiers for her. She didn’t know why, but something about them was just…calming. They made a decent comfort food. Maybe humans had artes they used to make their sweets addictive. She didn’t know and frankly she didn’t care. They helped calm her nerves and that’s all that mattered. Eventually Eizen had gotten them so much that the barkeeper gave him the recipe.

Seraphim don’t have birthdays, but Eizen had made their birthdays traditions in their household—yet another human trait he’d adopted over the years. Hers was coming up soon, so one evening he shooed her out of the house with the errand of collecting firewood for them. She protested, because why do they need firewood when there are fire seraphim nearby, but she gave in and wandered around the outskirts of the village. When she returned hours later with a small bundle of twigs and sticks in her arms the smell of palmiers hit her as she approached, her pace picking up a little. Eizen, predictably, was in the kitchen and told her to put the wood she’d gathered in the fire under their oven. She did, but the moment the wood touched the small flame it grew in size with a roar and surged outward from the opening. It happened faster than she could react and the next thing she knew the side of most of her right leg had a nasty burn along it. Her screams had Eizen by her side in seconds, mother hen mode in full force. Despite her protests he took time to treat the burn. Consequently, the palmiers he’d been making for her came out more like charcoal than the proper pastry she knew. It was upsetting, but more upsetting was the pained expression on Eizen’s face as he helped her to bed, the burnt treats forgotten on the kitchen counter.

“Eizen,” she’d said, “it’s fine. I’m fine. I still want to eat them.”

But her assurance and insistence were only met with Eizen’s frown deepening, a shake of his head and a pat to the top of her own before he left to clean up. Her leg hurt, but watching his back as he left the room made her heart hurt even more, seized with an anxiousness that she couldn’t yet understand.

A few days after that incident, Eizen declared that from that day onward it would be safer for Edna to do the cooking for them. She didn’t understand the logic there, considering she was the one who got burnt, so wouldn’t it make more sense to keep her away from fires? But Eizen had made a decision and, like a mountain in a hurricane, he refused to yield, so Edna agreed to it. Despite the bad burn, fire didn’t bother her and if it made Eizen feel more at ease then she figured it was fine.

Despite the switch they’d made, Edna wasn’t any less prone to injury. Several times she’d stub her toe or fall. It wasn’t anything serious—not like the burn she received before—but ever since then Eizen had seemed to worry more and fret over even the tiniest injury, so she began to try and hide any new injuries from him. She didn’t want him to worry. When he worried, he would go to the village. And when he did that the cloud at his back only grew darker and bigger.

It didn’t really seem like that big of a deal until a Fall day when she was 8. She was outside, stoking the beginnings of a fire in their make-shift pit; because after the burn incident Eizen figured it’d be safer for her to work with an open fire instead of their oven. Dinner was going to be whatever Eizen and Joel—another seraph from their village—brought back from hunting in the nearby woods.

Things were going well, until the sky opened abruptly with rain, dousing her fire and ruining the wood she’d spent all morning gathering. It was unfortunate, but just as she’d turned to run for cover a painful stabbing sensation filled her chest and made breathing feel as if her lungs were full of rocks. A domain had appeared. A powerful, malevolent domain. The other seraphim that were out of their homes were similarly frozen in place, fear on their faces as this kind of domain meant only one thing.

Weakly, she turned her head in the direction of the woods, the trees appearing darker through the purple haze of the domain. It…It wasn’t possible, was it? He couldn’t have…

“Ei—”

But just as she began to speak a large shadow crashed through the trees and flew with impressive speed straight for her. She had no time to react, barely any time to scream, and the next thing she knew she was high in the air, trapped in the talons of a dragon.

The beast let out an angry roar as it flew higher above the clouds. For a moment she was afraid it was going to drop her from this height, but as it reached its apex it dove straight back to the ground, the dive punctuated by a shrill scream from her. Like when it left the woods it raced down the mountainside on the wind, heading straight for and into the human town. The next moments were fuzzy, the constant jerking around by the dragon causing her to go in and out of consciousness. She remembered screaming. From her and the multitude of humans being attacked by it. She remembered fire and blood, death and destruction.

Eizen, stop! She’d thought at one point, fearfully convinced of who this dragon was.

When she regained consciousness again the wind was once more in her hair as the dragon flew back up the mountain. Behind them, from what she could see, was nothing but smoke and ruined buildings.

He’d…He’d destroyed the town he loved…killed the humans he loved…and now he was going to kill their fellow seraphim too… No. No no no no no NO!

“EIZEN!!!”

But before the dragon could make it to their village something stopped it with powerful force and it shrieked in pain, loosening its grip on her. She pinched her eyes shut with a squeal, bracing for impact that never came, partly because someone caught her before she hit the ground and partly because she fainted again after barely registering that fact.

When her eyes opened once more it was to the sight of the dragon dissolving into light. Standing over it, with his back to her, was Eizen. As he turned to walk over to where she was resting against a rock her eyes sweltered with heat before overflowing with equally hot tears. From fear or relief, she didn’t know.

Eizen knelt to her eye level when he was close enough, his smile strained as he reached out to pet her head and brush a tear away with his thumb.

“It’s okay. You’re safe now,” he’d said.

Such reassurance should’ve relieved her, but it only served to make her cry more.

“Eizen,” she’d managed to say through her tears, weakly reaching out to clasp his sleeves tightly in her small fists, making sure he was real. “Eizen. Eizen.”

She had no idea what she was trying to say. All she could think to say right now was his name, whenever the flow of her tears allowed her to speak. Eizen hadn’t been the dragon. He wasn’t a dragon. He hadn’t become a dragon. He was here, he was still here. The fabric of his jacket was rough against her fingers. He was real. This was real.

Whatever she’d been trying to say, Eizen understood. Carefully, he scooped her up again into his arms and she wasted no time in burying her face against his shoulder, muffling the rest of her crying there as she clung to him. By the time they reached their village, her tears had mostly all been cried out. Now she was just tired. And sore. Ugh.

Rather than head straight for their house, though, Eizen paused as they crossed the threshold into the village.

“Eizen,” said someone with a deep voice, “who was that?”

She lifted her head from where it was perched to look over her shoulder. Almost all of the seraphim in the village were gathered in the center, most of them looking apprehensively at Eizen. The one who’d spoken was the elder, who stood in front of the rest. Though he was the oldest in the village, he didn’t actually look all that old. But his face was hardened with a stern expression that made Edna anxious.

“Joel,” Eizen answered simply.

Joel. The seraph who went hunting with Eizen. She hadn't known him that well, but she knew he strongly disapproved of Eizen's interest and exposure to humanity.

“We were hunting together when he started up an argument with me. I tried to defuse it, but he just got angrier. Then he turned into that,” Eizen continued.

“I see,” said the elder, his arms crossed and eyes closed, “This has been on our minds for some time now, but, with recent events being what they are…we think it’s best that you leave. The sooner the better.”

A low murmur of agreement rippled through the assembled crowd of seraphim. She’d feared this outcome, but hadn’t expected it to happen like this or this quickly. Though this was shocking to her, she strangely felt numb to it. Perhaps due to the overwhelming emotions from earlier.

Eizen scoffed, “What, am I dangerous now? I neutralized the dragon for you.”

“Be that as it may, it’s become clear now that your very presence puts all of us in danger,” the elder’s gaze shifted to her and she reflexively clung tighter to Eizen, “Especially to the little one. I think it’s best that she stays with us, but you need to—”

“NO!” The cry left her lips before she could think to stop it, her arms around Eizen’s neck in a vice grip as she furiously shook her head against his shoulder. The gentle pressure of Eizen’s hand on the back of her head made her stop flailing, but the thought of separation had her crying into his jacket once more.

“She refuses,” Eizen said.

She heard the elder sigh deeply through his nose and imagined he still had his arms crossed and eyes closed.

“Very well,” he said, “It appears you’ve already poisoned her anyway.”

The crowd dispersed after that, a few whispering to each other as they went to their own houses. They were expected to leave by morning. Although there hadn’t been more than light structural damage in their village, the human town wasn’t as fortunate. It was completely destroyed and not a single human survived. Consequently, the area had been soaked in malevolence. It didn’t pose them any immediate threat, but there was a worry that given time it would eventually drift upwards into the village. Many of the seraphim expressed apprehension at that, some murmuring suggestions that they just abandon the place, adopt vagabond lifestyles like the rest of the world’s seraphim had already done.

She didn’t care about that now, though. She was being kicked out of the only home she’d ever known, and it was likely that in a few years it wouldn’t be there anymore anyway. But that was fine, she told herself. She’d only really been connected to the village because Eizen was there anyway. So, as long as she was where Eizen was, she’d never really be homeless. Eizen was her home. As she lay on her bed after packing up what meager possessions she could think to take with her she turned her gaze to the window. The rain that had started from the dragon’s appearance was no longer falling, but the sky remained dark with clouds.

When they left the next morning, no one saw them off. She didn’t know how long they wandered for, only that it had been many days and nights of walking or getting carried when she was too tired to walk anymore. Finally, they stopped as they approached the peak of another mountain. There was no one around—human or seraphim—and the air was clean. Eizen deemed the place good enough to settle. It wasn’t a bad place, she thought.

Since there wasn’t any seraphic village here nor were any of the human villages in reasonable walking distance, there wasn’t much of a point in building a house here too. They didn’t need to either, since there was a small enclosure of rock carved into the mountain that would give them suitable shelter. Even so, it wasn’t as comfortable as the bed she’d always had. She didn’t complain, though. She wouldn’t! Past comforts meant nothing anymore. All that mattered was that she still had Eizen and now…now there was no way anything else bad could happen. Nothing else could push him away. No humans would take him from her now.

Or so she’d believed until one day, after they’d been settled into their new home for a while, Eizen made a sudden announcement.

“Edna, I’ve decided to go on a journey.”

It was late and they were eating dinner—a light vegetable soup. The sudden declaration made her pause in her eating, though she resumed shortly after the initial shock had passed.

“Okay, when are we leaving?” Because of course he’d take her with him, right? A glance up to his face revealed a frown and his eyes hidden behind his stupid hair. …Right? “Eizen?”

“I meant alone, Edna. You’ll be staying here.”

Her bowl clattered to the ground as she jumped to her feet, soup forgotten.

“No I’m not!”

“Yes, you are. I have to go alone.”

“No you don’t! I can go with you!”

“It’s too dangerous! You’ll be safer here.”

“Is this because of what they said before? I thought you didn’t care about that!”

“I don’t, but they were right. I’ve let this curse hurt you for too long already.”

“You’re not the one hurting me! Take me with you, I can help!”

“No, I’ve made up my mind.”

“But—”

“Edna! You’re staying and that’s final!”

She ground her teeth and clenched her hands into fists as she glared at him. This didn’t make sense! Where had she gone wrong?! Why wasn’t he letting her go with him?! He’d set his own bowl aside when he started talking, so now his arms were crossed over his chest and his mouth was drawn in a frown. His typical stance that told her no further arguing would make him budge. She felt tears forming at the corner of her eyes, but before they could fall she turned quickly on her heel and ran outside, further up the mountain. He didn’t chase after her.

Later when she returned to their makeshift home, Eizen was already asleep and the mess she’d made earlier had been cleaned up. She stayed where she was at the entrance for a moment before grabbing her small cot and dragging it over to be next to Eizen’s, flopping down on it so her back was pressed to his. A simple comfort to tell her he was still there. Seraphim didn’t need to sleep anyway. She fully intended to stay awake until Eizen got up. If he was so intent on leaving her, then she just wouldn’t let him! Or so she stubbornly thought, not realizing when her eyes grew heavy and she fell asleep anyway.

In the morning, the first thing she noticed was the lack of warmth at her back. The realization had her sitting up quickly, heart seized in panic as she frantically looked around. He was gone. Did he really just leave without so much as a word to her? Was she too harsh last night? These panicked thoughts raced through her mind as she got up to investigate, but just as she was about to move Eizen appeared at the entrance. He had a dead bird in hand. Adrenaline left her in a relieved sigh as she slumped back down onto her cot.

As she made breakfast for them he told her that he wasn’t going to leave immediately, but it would be within the next day or two. He wouldn’t be gone forever, only until he found a cure for his curse. And most importantly, he’d keep in touch through letters. That was all fine, she supposed, but she still felt bitter that he was leaving her and not even giving her the option of going with him.

For the rest of the day she secluded herself on top of their rocky home, scribbling away with paper and pen she’d borrowed from their belongings. When she finally came back down the sun was low in the sky and Eizen was reading one of his books by firelight. Without any preamble she marched over and held what she’d spent all day working on in front of his face. A small self-portrait of her that barely took up a corner of the page.

“So you won’t forget what I look like,” she’d said.

Eizen blinked curiously at the paper before setting his book down and taking it in hand instead. He smiled at the childish scribble, a genuinely happy and amused smile that Edna hadn’t seen him do in a while. Then he took one of the pieces of paper and pens and scribbled for a few moments before presenting her with an equally bad self-portrait of himself.

“Seems only fair you have one too,” he’d said, “but they’ll get ruined if they stay exposed like this.”

Then something seemed to dawn on him and he got up to rummage through one of their packs. She watched him curiously and when he finally found what he was looking for he came back to her side. In his hands were two lockets—one on a long chain and the other on a short band of ribbon.

“If we do it like this,” he explained while gently tearing around the edges of both of their drawings, making them small enough that they could fit inside the lockets, “then we’ll always be close to each other, no matter how far away I am.”

In the long chained locket, he put her self-portrait then put it around his neck. He did the same with his in the smaller locket and then reached out to put it around her neck. She brought her hand up to gently touch the smooth stone of the locket and the simple action had tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. Eizen’s hand was heavy on top of her head as he ruffled her hair gently.

“Don’t cry, Edna. I told you this morning, didn’t I? I won’t be gone forever. I’ll be back, I promise.”

They went to bed after that. When she next woke up, the cot beside her was cold and a note had been placed under her arm. It had instructions for how to send a letter, an apology, and a repeat of the promise spoken last night. Edna read it, crumpled it up and tossed it aside, then rolled over onto Eizen’s abandoned cot and went back to sleep.

Seraphim, as should be expected, don’t have a writing system. Most didn’t write at all or even know how to write using the human’s script. It changed so much, most of them never bothered with it. However, years before they were kicked out of the village, Eizen had thought it a good idea to teach her how to write. She never used it or had a need to back then, but he made her practice anyway. Now, in hindsight, perhaps his plan to leave her had been in the works longer than she’d suspected.

It was only a few moon cycles after Eizen left that she received a letter—her first letter. At first she didn’t know what to do about it, until the Turtlez who delivered it suggested writing a reply before wandering off to give her time to write one. But that was the problem. All Eizen’s letter consisted of was an apology for abruptly leaving, some descriptions of what he’d seen so far, and a few crude drawings. She simultaneously had a lot she could say—that she wanted to say—and not much to say at all.

By the time evening had fallen and the Turtlez had come back to check on her, she’d filled at least 5 sheets of crumpled up paper with crossed out starts and sentences. This was annoying, she decided. Why did she need to only keep in touch with him this way? There wouldn’t be a need for any of this if he’d just taken her with him to begin with! Stupid curse! Stupid Eizen!!

In the end, there was only one thing she could think to say in response to his apology—to his letter in general. She wrote it quickly, folded and sealed it the way his instructions had said, and sent it off with the Turtlez. In the middle of the paper, in handwriting that was out of practice and childishly big, there was only a single sentence:

I don’t care if it’s dangerous, I want to be with you!

 - Hephsin Yulind

Despite various attempts she made in her letters since then, Eizen didn’t come home and always replied with more apologies and promises that he’d be back. Eventually, she gave up trying to persuade him. For a while after their first letter exchange she’d write short letters in response, but lately she had stopped writing them. It just became too bothersome. After all, unlike wherever Eizen was now, nothing changed about her life on the mountain. She maintained a sleep schedule out of habit, practiced her artes at the summit, sometimes ate, and sometimes read. Day in, day out. Nothing special to report usually. Besides, even with her lack of response Eizen continued to send letters and gifts.

It was because of one of those letters that she was sitting on a rock at the top of the path that led down the mountain. Her umbrella was open and resting on her shoulder as she twirled it subconsciously, her eyes scanning the path below. The letter she had gotten a few days before was Eizen telling her that he was coming home. For how long wasn’t said. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but hope that it was forever.

She had been 10 years old when Eizen left. Though she had tried at first, she quickly lost track of how long it had been. At least 200 years, she thought. There was a point where she had noticed herself visibly aging and panicked a little about it. So she stopped aging quite as noticeably. It wouldn’t be good if she looked nothing like what Eizen remembered when he came home, she reasoned. If it at least looked like no time had passed at all, then…then maybe they could pretend that no time had actually passed. It may’ve been wishful thinking, but wish for it she did.

She was brought out of her thoughts when she noticed movement at the bottom of the path. Her eyes widened as she jumped up from her perch, the familiar bright yellow of Eizen’s hair unmistakable against the dull brown of the mountain path. The umbrella was no longer spinning, but the handle was clenched tightly in her hands as she watched him slowly come into focus.

When he was close enough that she could see his face more clearly he smiled and waved and suddenly the weight of 200 years of loneliness crashed down upon her heart.

“Eizen!” She called, her voice cracking as tears formed in her eyes.

200 years was a long time, she decided. 200 years too many. And now, finally, it was over. Finally, they could be a family again. Finally, time could move on as it was meant to. Even the dark cloud—which had only grown bigger and darker since he left—wasn’t going to take this away from her.

She closed her umbrella before taking an unthinking step forward, intending to run the rest of the way down to meet him since he was being a slowpoke. That had been the intent, but…

As soon as she took more than two steps forward an inhuman screech resounded above her. Looking up revealed a hoard of six Garuda hellions descending right for her. She hadn’t been prepared, so instead of using an arte to fend them off she helplessly waved her umbrella around at them; trying to knock them away and step away from them. It seemed to work a little, however she hadn’t been watching where her feet were going and didn’t hear Eizen’s warning until it was too late. Her foot met open air instead of solid ground. She screeched as her body became weightless, falling over the open side of the cliff. It didn’t last long though, as she immediately heard the sound of an arte going off, the Garuda hellion’s painful death cries and Eizen’s arms catching her out of mid-air and returning to the top of the path.

Her eyes had pinched shut when she began falling, but now they opened. She smiled, but when she found Eizen’s face it immediately fell. Eizen was frowning, his teeth gritted and eyes hidden by his bangs. It reminded her of how he looked when he’d saved her from the dragon all those years ago, and before that when she was bedridden with a burn. This realization took any relief she had been feeling and replaced it with newfound fear. He wasn’t—

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here. I thought it would work this time, but…”

He was.

She tried to get his attention, pull him from those annoying thoughts he was muttering under his breath. That train of thought he was on only led to one destination and she wouldn’t let it get there. She’d waited long enough already! But despite her attempts, even when she desperately reached out to grab at his coat sleeves, he continued to mutter about failed methods and danger.

“Eizen!”

But even calling his name and reassuring him she was okay wasn’t getting through. It was just a small hellion attack! It was purely coincidental! So what if before that moment there had never been any hellions this high up on the mountain?! It didn’t mean anything; it definitely didn’t mean that he needed to leave again!

Yet he set her down anyway with another apology before he turned to walk back down the path.

“Wait!” She cried, reaching out to grab the back of his coat, missing by mere centimeters. He paused anyway, so she didn’t waste the opportunity, “Don’t go! You only just got here! At least stay one night?”

It was the desperate pleas of a lonely little girl, and though Eizen had looked like he was considering it he still shook his head.

“It’s too dangerous still. I need to try something else,” he said before looking over his shoulder at her. He was smiling in a way that was supposed to be comforting, but she knew better than that, “I’ll be back, I promise.”

And for the second time in her life, she could only watch helplessly as he walked with his back to her, growing smaller and smaller the further he became. If she reached out, she could grab him, but her hand would only find empty air.

Her legs shook before she collapsed to her knees, her vision swimming with built up tears. Eizen wasn’t in sight anymore, so she dropped her hands to the ground, clenching her fists and disturbing the soil as she did.

Why? Why why why why why WHY?! He’d been so close to being home! If those stupid Garuda… If she had just…

A drop of water on the ground between her hands that wasn’t rain. It felt hard to breathe, like a hand had plunged into her chest and was now squeezing around her heart. Her eyes were burning, more droplets joining the first, and all she could think to do now was scream. A sharp, mournful scream. He still didn’t come back.

She received another letter soon after that. Another useless apology, another meaningless promise. Unlike before, she didn’t answer the first letter. Or the second, or the third, or the fortieth. Gifts came every few letters, some interesting, some weird. Though she accepted them and created a small pile of them, she saw them for what they were—an extension of his apologies that would accompany them. When the letter confirming what she suspected deep down came to her, she finally replied. She supposed she’d have to since Eizen no longer intended to come home again.

The letters and gifts continued for many centuries. Eizen didn’t apologize as much as he did before, and when reading his letters, he sounded happy to her. The realization was bittersweet—that her brother was happier among humans than he’d ever been around her, though she supposed it had always been the case. She just hadn’t wanted to see it.

Since Eizen no longer planned to come home, she supposed she wasn’t really bound to the mountain anymore like she had been, yet she stayed anyway. No matter how boring it was, it felt like she needed to be there.

As time went on, she noticed, Eizen’s letters became less lengthy, and then less frequent—a development that began to concern her when she received a single glove as a gift from one letter, then his boots several letters later. He’d explained that he bought a new pair, so he felt like she should have his old ones instead. A simple, logical explanation that she would’ve bought…if he hadn’t sounded like he was planning on dying.

The last letter she received was delivered to her on a summer day. It didn’t have a gift, but it was an activity report. Something or someone was bothering Maotelus’ domain, he’d said in the letter. So he was going to investigate and take care of the problem. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, a typical Eizen letter at that point. Except for the way it ended:

Remember that it’s harmful to hold on to the past. Let it go and keep facing forward. Always keep in mind that you steer your own ship.

 - Uzfmiwuw Uexuv

It was philosophical nonsense that Eizen often wrote about in his letters. He’d never said them to her like that, though. Reading the words, a pit of anxiety formed in her stomach and remained there into the next day. Something was wrong, and she feared she knew what.

She was forcefully awoken several nights later by the weight of a domain, the likes of which she hadn’t felt in 1,000 years. It was suffocating, each painful breath she tried to take making her choke on the malevolent air. A brief flash of memory to the purple haze of a forest and she was on her feet quickly to look for the domain’s source. The malevolence here was thicker and more oppressive than the domain she remembered. What that meant, she didn’t know.

Stumbling outside, she was greeted by the sight of a familiar black shape against the purple hued sky, the sound of its roar—its scream—making her fall to her knees as she helplessly watched it fly around the peak. All of a sudden, she was 8 years old again, kidnapped by a dragon that had spontaneously transformed. The dragon back then hadn’t been Eizen, but this one…

“Eizen…” She said, her voice small and strained with tears that were beginning to fall down her cheeks.

Eizen finally came home, but he wasn’t Eizen anymore.

And so, what was the point of this trip down memory lane? Being able to remember so much in such detail was probably useful for some, she supposed, but it was utterly useless to her. She envied Lailah for being older than her and only barely remembering her own earliest memories, Zaveid for being third oldest and also only remembering bits and pieces, and Meebo who was too much of a baby to even have many memories to count yet.

These three seraphim, and even the humans she’d begrudgingly agreed to travel with, were far more blessed than she was. Blessed with the ability to forget. She wished she could forget, even a little bit.

“It’s harmful to hold on to the past,” had been Eizen’s last written words to her.

“You may not have journeyed together, but with this you can share the memories,” Rose had said as they all looked upon Eizen’s grave.

Such contradicting sentiments. Memories weren’t blessings to be passed around like stories at a campfire. Memories, especially for earth seraphim like her, were a curse. She was cursed with the weight of her whole lifetime of memories, and many more to come in the future. She always would be. Much like Eizen had been cursed from birth, perhaps this too was her own kind of curse. A curse she didn’t start feeling until he came home as a dragon—and again as she helped to bring 200 years of his suffering to an end.

Mountains are strong. They endure no matter what disasters are thrown at them. If the oceans rise, they become islands. If the earth shakes, they grow taller. If the wind erodes them, they only grow rounder. If a fire wipes away all life on its surface, the mountain beneath stands strong in the end. Eizen’s love of humanity and the journey he went on had given him many mountains of memories. If she continued her own journeys and made more memories, would she suffer the same fate as Eizen?

She supposed only time could tell.

[macchiatomingi]

get to know me!

aaaaa! another one! i should really be doing homework but eh :T

Rules: Tag 10 followers you want to get to know better.

Birth year: 2001

Star sign: Taurus (but im a Gemini cusp)

Height: uh last i checked i was like 5′7? 5′8??? around there

Put your playlist on shuffle and list the first 4 songs:

1.) Oh My - McCafferty 

2.) Where R U From - Seungri (feat. Mino)

3.) Techno Fan - The Wombats

4.) Or so He Sphinx - The Speed of Sound in Seawater

Grab the nearest book to you, turn to page 23, what is line 17?

"Evidence from nature emerges through the study of Alpine and polar glaciers, tree rings, and pollen left in bogs.”

My AP European History textbook

Ever had a song or poem written about you?

Not that I know of :)

When was the last time you played air guitar?

oof uh its been a minute but probably the last time i listened to like,,,rock so like,,,a week? two weeks ago?

Celebrity Crushes?

uh song mingi, thomas brodie sangster, tom holland, and sebastian stan?

What’s a sound you hate? Love?

hate: people smacking their food, balloons (being inflated, popping, touching other surfaces), lots of talking going on at once

love: laughter (esp super loud and genuine laughs), rain, thunder (unless its super loud and boomy then i get scared), cats purring

Do you believe in ghosts?

yes

Do you believe in aliens?

also yes

Do you drive? If so, have you crashed?

i do not drive but when i was learning my granny let me get in the drivers seat in the middle of like a median turn so i almost crashed her new car into a tree by hitting the curb. i havent driven since :)

Last book you read?

Altered by Jennifer Rush (its a guilty pleasure book at this point)

Do you like the smell of gasoline?

nope it makes my head hurt :)

Last movie you’ve seen?

GLASS ITS AMAZING AND I HIGHLY RECCOMMEND IT but not if u have epilepsy plus it has mentions of abuse and mental illness and bullying which can be triggering so like pls b cautious and go with someone you trust if you choose to go :(

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

oof well i was a Clumsy Child and once tripped over my shoelaces and landed on my face. i busted my teeth and like, one of my front teeth (lowkey graphic warning) turned and went through my lower lip so i still have the scar from that. luckily i dont remember it.

Do you have any obsessions right now?

reading! 

writing :D

the great british baking show!

cooking!

Do you tend to hold grudges?

i dont hold grudges but i remember when people have wronged me, making it harder for me to forgive them. dont think its a grudge though like i never dislike a person that much i just cut them out :T

In a relationship?

im in a faithful relationship with cookies n cream ice cream.

uh,,,i do not know who to tag :’)

[visceralprayers]

jake tried to match boomi's pace, he didn't want to be selfish with him. his kiss was sloppy at best, his teeth finding the other's lower lip as he let out a shaky breath. jake only parted to glance down at their movements, an open mouthed smile touched his expression as he uttered an unsteady, " fuck. " he lifted his gaze, punch drunk and desperate, he wanted boomi, but that wasn't possible just yet. he lifted his hand, sweeping his tongue over his palm before lowering it again to resume stroking the other, grunting softly when his hips met boomi's own, even if their hands prevented them from touching further.

the moan was music to boomi's ears and he wanted to hear most of it . he happily accepted the kiss , almost immediately deepening it as he got lost in jake , moving his hand a little faster in hopes of coaxing more sounds from the other .

[vocaloiderutauer-blog]

I... Think im not a fan of her voice. Not because of the timbre but because how hard it is to make her not sound boomy.

[justmarsh619]

Checkout, like share and download my latest hour mix directly from my website justmarsh.com for free. Featuring: The Mambo - Dateless - The Mambo 2019 Oblivion - Ataxia - Detroit Love, Vol. 2 2019 Delirium - Honey Badger - Grand Place II 2019 Make My Eyes Roll Back (feat. Bekah) - Gerry Gonza - This Is Night Bass: Vol. 8 2019 Praise You (Purple Disco Machine Extended Remix) - Fatboy Slim - Praise You 2018 Game - Case of the Mondays - Club Cuts - EP 2019 Selector - Taim & Clb - Dreaming Still 2019 Boomy Chance - MNNR - Boomy Chance 2019 Groove404 - Loge21 - Groove404 2019 Lose Yourself - NuKid - Lose Yourself 2019 Came to Get Funky (VIP) - Cazztek - Came to Get Funky 2019 That Sound - DJ Zinc - Crackhouse, Vol. 3 2019 $Hake - DJ Fixx - $Hake - Single 2019 4Gee$ - Krafty Kuts - 4Gee$ - Single 2018 YOUR VOICE - DJ30A- 30A's 2018 Wrap Up 2018 Let's Bounce - Plump DJs - Let's Bounce 2018 I Believed - Deekline & Specimen A - Run da Riddim - EP 2018 Lights Go Down (Peekaboo Remix) Zeds Dead, Jauz & PEEKABOO Lights Go Down 2019 (at DJ Club) https://www.instagram.com/p/B1Lc-1jhS1a/?igshid=319yu2dupbg8

[raggywaltz1954]

Look out world.  After having written a post about an original Blue Note album, here comes my first post about an original Prestige album.  Mama I made it.

The Music

https://raggywaltz.files.wordpress.com/2018/10/airegin.wav

The Tune:  “Airegin”

Recorded:  29 June, 1954 in Hackensack, NJ

Personnel:

Miles Davis-  Trumpet

Sonny Rollins-  Tenor Sax

Horace Silver-  Piano

Percy Heath-  Bass

Kenny Clarke-  Drums

https://raggywaltz.files.wordpress.com/2018/10/oleo.wav

The Tune:  “Oleo”

Recorded:  Same as above

Personnel:  Same as above

Numerous people have extolled the greatness of this album, the legendary drama that took place during one of the recording sessions, the phenomenal lineup of musicians, etc etc etc.  And now, I add my name to the list of numerous people.

This album is an example of what many jazz record labels did after they phased out the 10-inch record:  Combine two 10″ albums together onto one 12″ LP, throw some alternate takes or unreleased material from the same sessions, and release it as a new album.  Prestige was particularly fond of this practice, which in a way was pretty revolutionary and forward-looking.  Decades later, music labels did the same thing with CDs, throwing numerous alternate takes and previously unissued tracks and false starts and studio chatter and…

The music on side one features Miles Davis, 75% of the Modern Jazz Quartet (Milt Jackson on vibes, Percy Heath on bass, and Kenny Clarke on drums), and Thelonious Monk on piano.  Recorded on Christmas Eve 1954, this was the session where Miles asked (told) Thelonious to lay out behind his solos and not accompany him.  The music from that session was released on the 10″ LP ‘Miles Davis All Stars, Volume 1′ PRLP 196.  For this “new” release as a 12″ LP, Prestige coupled the originally released take of “Bags Groove” with a previously unissued second take of the same tune.  The music swings, but one gets the idea that Prestige founder and session supervisor Bob Weinstock was in the control room motioning for the guys to keep soloing.  Miles’ solos on these sides are cool and perfunctory.  Without a piano to fill in the cracks, Miles sounds detached and removed from the music.  This detachment is amplified when he finishes his solo and Milt Jackson begins his ebullient solo and Thelonious assumes his role as accompaniment.  It’s a study in contrast.

Side two is the main reason why I bought the album.  Enter Sonny Rollins, with Horace Silver on piano.  Right from the jump, the music has a fresh vitality and feel.  Almost all the tunes on this side were written by Sonny Rollins, and all of them went on to become jazz standards- an impressive feat for anybody.  The opener, “Airegin”, is a classic.  That song and I go way back.  Over ten years ago when I was starting the 7th grade, I got a Miles Davis compilation CD and this song was one of my favorites.  I played it on repeat and thought I was the coolest thing ever, which of course it is.  My only gripe at the time was that “the piano player” (youthful ignorance) didn’t get to solo.  In the ensuing decade and some change, I’ve grown to appreciate Horace Silver’s tasty and stimulating comping behind Miles and Sonny, as well as his LACK of piano during the intro and melody statements.  Silver was a master of piano accompaniment, and in many ways his comping and chord choices are just as interesting as a full-blown solo.  Miles sounds stimulated by the music and his compatriots, weaving a minimalist, casually-cool solo that contrasts with Sonny’s solo.  Sonny’s full, sometimes breathy sax serves as the perfect foil to Miles’ trumpet.

“Oleo”, another classic, is a tune with a unique format over the familiar “I Got Rhythm” changes.  While the bass walks and the drums drum throughout the entire tune, the piano only comes in on the bridge and the soloist is free to play over the entire tune.  It doesn’t seem that wild on paper, but in practice it makes for an interesting listening experience.  Miles has his Harmon Mute firmly in place here, which combined with Kenny’s lack of a hi-hat on beats two and four, gives the tune a dainty, polite swing.  Sonny Rollins maintains the dainty air in his opening statements, using space to let the music breathe.  When he begins his second solo with more umph, Kenny finally throws in some hi-hat and the swing becomes more firmly entrenched.  Silver gets to solo this time (!!!).  It’s a fun performance, with Miles even throwing in a snippet from Duke Ellington’s “Cottontail” in the bridge during his second chorus.

The rest of the album is in much of the same vein, with “Doxy” being another Rollins original that quickly became a jazz anthem.  The music helped launch the hard-bop sound, history has been very kind to this album.  Over at Allmusic, Lindsay Planer gave the album a 10/10, admonishing that “Bags’ Groove belongs as a cornerstone of all jazz collections.”  It’s certainly great music on its grooves, and has what I consider to be the definitive versions of “Airegin” and “Doxy”.  The combined talents of so many major jazz figures with Miles Davis making jazz?  Yeah, I guess this album does belong in just about every jazz collection!

The Cover

Raggy Waltz Rating:  A+

The adjective ‘classic’ gets thrown around a lot, but I have to say, this is one of those classic jazz album covers from the 1950’s.  It’s original, artistic, aesthetically pleasing.  From the calming and playful usage of green to the fonts and typeset, the cover art succeeds.  The cover art is also unique in that it’s un-art cover art.  That is, it’s literally just words and no conventional art.  The art director over at Prestige managed to make something as mundane as an album title and information not just interesting, but a work of art itself.  It’s ironic.  The hipster in me is going nuts.  The artist responsible for this un-art art?  Reid Miles, who was also the star artist over at Prestige’s competition, Blue Note.  Phenomenal job, Miles!  Reid, I mean, although Miles Davis deserves an accolade or two, too.

The Back

Obviously, its seen better days since its release in 1957.  In the six decades since, the pristine white has aged and a C. Witherspoon (never Witherfork or Withispoon) stamped their name on it to prevent it being permanently borrowed.

The liner notes are rather lazy, which I wouldn’t expect coming from someone like Ira Gitler, famed jazz critic and writer.  He readily admits that he hasn’t actually listened to this new album as a unit, specifically the new tracks, and thus only comments on what he heard before.  Whether this is due to his not having the tapes available to listen to or willful negligence I don’t know, but it’s comical to read things like “[t]he take that I describe is the latter as the other will be as new to me as it is to you when I hear LP 7109.”

That aside, the notes are alright.  He ends with a then-topical reference to 1954 being a good year for Giants.  While 1954 was a good year for other reasons (my parents were legally allowed to go to whatever school they wanted!), it was good for the San Francisco Giants, the baseball team.  Speaking of Blue Note…

The Vinyl

The cross-fertilization between Prestige and Blue Note continues with Rudy Van Gelder lending his talents to Prestige.  The results are satisfying acoustics in glorious mono.  Having been recorded in 1954, just before high fidelity really took off, the sound isn’t QUITE that Van Gelder sound, and the reverb is a bit much, but it’s not bad.  It gives the instruments a sense of space and breatheability (did I just coin a new word?  Me thinks me did).  Percy Heath’s bass comes through loud and clear without coming across as boomy or muddy.  The vinyl itself is a bit noisy here and there, with delicious snap, crackle, and pop throughout.  Sure I’d like a cleaner record, but then again that’s why I collect vinyl and not CDs.

And speaking of collecting, is it or isn’t it a first pressing?  Let me say that I don’t really care that much about coveted first pressings or stuff like that.  I do prefer to get original runs of an album, but not necessarily first pressings.  Having said that, let’s get into the nitty-gritty, because who doesn’t like to know if they have a coveted first pressing?!

The short answer:  Probably not, but maybe.

Not a very satisfying answer, is it?

The evidence provided by the album doesn’t really give a definitive answer, and after pouring over London Jazz Collector’s excellent site for clues, I’m still not sure.  Based on the vinyl and its labels, it’s a first pressing.  The labels have the New York City address, which were used up until 1958 or so.  This album was released in 1957, so that checks out.  The labels also have “HI FI” as opposed to “HIGH FIDELITY”, another pre-1958 marker.  The vinyl is deep groove, and as mentioned before has “RVG” stamped in the deadwax (also “AB”, for Abby Manufacturing).  So far, it’s a first pressing.  Yahoo.

The album jacket is where things get tricky.  Allegedly, there was a second album cover that was made when this album was released again, differing only slightly in color.  My copy looks different depending on the lighting, so I’m not sure how reliable that is.  The back of my album has advertisements for other Miles Davis albums; this is allegedly a post-1957 feature.  So, what’s the truth?  It’s safe to say that this is an early pressing.  Best to leave it right there.  Yahoo.

The Place of Acquisition

I’ve sung the praises of my local record store so much, I think I deserve to get a check from them each month.  They’re like the best.  I actually got this record a year or so ago, after walking into the store not expecting to see much.  This being northern Alabama, most of the records on the illustrious wall displays are non-jazz.  The rare jazz records to make it up there are usually Blue Notes (reissues at that) or things like ‘Kind of Blue’ (also invariably reissues).  That day, however, there were two jazz records up on display:  ‘The Musings of Miles’ and this album.  The former album was a little more expensive than this one and since I already had bought the former on iTunes, I grabbed this one instead.  I thought the price of $25 was fair, and I planned to come back the following week to grab the other Miles album (it was gone, of course).  Vertical House Records deserves an award or something, both for the unbelievable amount of quality jazz they manage to stock their shelves with and for the unbelievable amount of money they have taken from me over the past three years.  Both are remarkable feats, let me tell you.

A new post on a classic album from Miles and Sonny Rollins. Bags Groove //Miles Davis (Prestige 7109) Look out world.  After having written a post about an original Blue Note album, here comes my first post about an original Prestige album. 

[visceralprayers]

Jake was a little late, his mother was reluctant t o let him out of her sight after the shit that went down with Pope, but he'd eventually gotten out of the way. He made his way out of the house, grabbing his father's old switchblade from behind the picture they had of him in the living room, a place it seemed these assholes hadn't thought to check. He tucked it away in his waistband and jogged over to the tree, smiling when he laid eyes on Boomi, " Sorry, protective mom. Come on, " He glanced around the yard, then turned to head towards the small gap he'd created in the fence with his friends when he was younger. It was easily hidden and let them out right by the lake, he figured they'd go unnoticed.

boomi smiled and nodded his head , watching as jake made his way back to the homes . his eyes lingered for a moment before eventually doing the same . the next day came quickly , and boomi busied himself , or at least tried to . he spent some time with solaris and even link when she returned . by nightfall , though , he was itching to get out but waited until he knew that others would be too distracted to notice his absence at least at first .

he went back to where him and jake had gone the night before : by the tree . he waited , rocking back and forth on his heels , half unsure if jake would show or not .

[lindamarionn]

Optoma UHD60 4K Projector Review

As one of the very first DLP projectors to feature 4K pixel density, the Optoma UHD60 is a big, bulky projector that comes with an equally big picture size. But the same question remains that we’ve been asking with every 4K projector we’ve reviewed this year: is the cost really worth the effect of having a 4K picture the size of your wall if you can only appreciate it during nighttime viewing hours? Read on in our Optoma UHD60 4K projector review to find out!

Optoma UHD60 4K Projector Hands-On Review

Price: $1,799.00 Model: UHD60 Summary: The Optoma UHD60 is a surprisingly cheap 4K projector which had exceptional picture quality and fidelity when compared to projectors more than twice the cost – save for some middling HDR results overall. What We Liked

Stellar picture quality in most scenarios

Solid price for what you get

Onboard speakers were surprisingly boomy

What We Didn’t

HDR quality could be better

Ambient light washes out any 4K/HDR benefits

Optoma UHD60 Specs

Optoma UHD60 Design

As is the case with most 4K projectors, there’s nothing “small” about what the Optoma UHD60 brings to the table. This is a big beast of a projector (one of the biggest we’ve ever reviewed in fact), but even though it may take up half your living room it won’t exactly look bad doing it. When we reviewed the Acer VL7860 we noted there was nothing special about the boxy, flat-white design and although some similar notes could be said about the UHD60, it’s still a surprisingly curvaceous projector that askews some of the more familiar grated design elements we’ve seen on Optoma projectors before it. The projector is completely svelte on the top save for a small line that runs across the middle, hiding the secret panel which opens up the case to let you tweak the lens shift ratio as well as the overall zoom and fine-tuning that would normally be placed on the outside of the unit. The company has also opted to place the lens housing directly in the middle of the unit rather than off to the side (as we’ve seen in literally every Optoma projector to date). This could make certain mounting situations a bit more complicated if that’s the way you’ve configured your ceiling bracket previously, but outside of that limited scenario I actually appreciate the look of having the lens dead-center and staring straight out the way it is in the UHD60. Read Next: The Top Rated Projector Screens

Optoma UHD60 Hardware

The Optoma UHD60 4K projector uses DLP technology to create its images at a maximum display resolution of 3840 x 2160, with a contrast ratio of 1,000,000:1 and ANSI lumen rating of 3000, with the ability to show an image as large as 302.2" across from corner to corner at a distance of 30.5 feet. The Optoma UHD60 sports two HDMI ports (one 1.4, one HDMI 2.0/MHL 2.2), one VGA-in, one RJ-45 Ethernet port as well as a USB port and two jacks for audio in and audio out.

Optoma UHD60 User Interface and Settings

The Optoma UHD60 uses a standard set of menu options that don’t deviate really at all from what we’ve seen on previous Optoma models, save for a few extra settings that are specific to the 4K UHD portion of this display technology. These included the option to turn on the Dynamic Blacks setting (which we always recommend when watching movies, but not so much when playing a game), and of course the ability to switch on HDR which is exclusive to any 4K projectors produced by the company. Read Next: The Top 4k Projectors

Testing and Performance of the Optoma UHD60 4K Projector

Brightness/Picture Quality Going into this review I have to admit I wasn’t expecting too much from the DLP-powered Optoma UHD60 in terms of picture quality when compared against more robust options like the laser-powered Acer VL7860, but was pleasantly surprised to find that on almost all tests and sources we could throw at it it performed equally well, if not above the curve in some scenarios. Considering that the UHD60 costs less than half of what the VL7860 does, that’s a very impressive feat unto itself. During our standard Spiderman: Homecoming 4K Blu-Ray viewing we found the picture quality to be just around what we got out of the VL7860, save for one small issue that seems to nag most 4K projectors that have been released in the past year or so: HDR quality. HDR is still a new technology for standard televisions, so it’s not all too shocking that the projector market is still working to refine how the color spec will fold into their market with aging chip applications like DLP. In this department the VL7860 definitely pulled out ahead thanks to the addition of its laser technology, but the two were back on even footing when it came to ambient light performance. Even with “Bright” mode turned on and everything tuned as much as possible, 3,000 lumens just doesn’t seem to be enough to overcome the issues that ambient light present for 4K projectors. If you don’t have a specifically blacked-out room to watch in, you’ll probably want to stick with a standard 4K flatscreen option instead. Read Next:Top Projector Under $1000 That said you still get way more than what you’re paying for if you’re comparing the two on a purely cost-based basis. 4K images were crisp, clean, and suffered almost no color bleed that we’ve seen on lesser projectors, and the projector was more than capable of handling action scenes without losing any of the fidelity we’ve come to expect from 4K flatscreen sets or higher priced projectors in the same bracket of features and performance.

Gaming Performance: At a max refresh rate of 60Hz we definitely didn’t get everything we would have liked to out of the UHD60 in this department, and the input lag was even less bearable. That said the HDR effect still makes games look better than they ever have before, and the immersive effect of having your favorite titles blown up to over 100" in 4K simply can’t be understated at this price.

3D Performance: 3D performance at 1080p (the highest rate you can use the feature at) looked just fine on the Optoma UHD60, about as good as every other Optoma projector we’ve reviewed in this department.

Noise and Heat: Even though we were hoping that the advancements made to the DLP chip that allowed it to display 4K content would carry over to lesser noise and heat, the UHD60 ran pretty damn hot under the collar with a max temperature output of 115°, and a max decibel rating of 43dB from an ambient rating of 34dB.

Sound: Although normally this would be the part of the review where we once again malign the limitations of onboard sound systems for projectors, we were pleasantly surprised to find a considerable amount of fidelity and bass being pumped off the UHD60’s two 4W speakers. They were more than enough to fill the room with decent sound and even if we’d never recommend them for long-term use, in a pinch for outdoor viewing scenarios they can hold their own no problem.

Wrap Up

As one of the very first DLP projectors to feature 4K pixel density, the Optoma UHD60 hits the ground running with some seriously impressive results that continued to shock us from start to finish with a pricetag as low as it is. For only $1799 you get a DLP-powered 4K experience that can keep a strong pace with laser-powered options that cost over twice as much (we’re looking at you, Acer). For this reason alone the Optoma UHD60 gets a strong recommendation from us. Read Next:How Do Projectors Work? That said, if you’re a mega-stickler for color quality and want the absolute tip-top of what HDR display technology has to offer on projectors we’d recommend going with the aforementioned Acer VL7860 instead. But, if you want to spend a reasonable amount on your next home theater upgrade and don’t mind a slight step down in HDR quality, the Optoma UHD60 is more than well-equipped enough to handle the job.

Optoma UHD60 4K Projector Review Read more on: gadgetreview process

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