#fucking wacko lately!!!!!

[githling]

jaheira the woman ever

[mosspapi]

Why does it seem like everything I normally get for groceries is exactly one dollar more expensive than last week. I swear to god the drink flavouring was 3.99 not 4.99, the chocolate was 4.99 not 5.99, etc. Like I know I've been having mental breakdown after mental breakdown the last few weeks but I swear to god shit was not this expensive last week. You'd think I would remember the price of the things I have bought every week for up to a year straight

[cellophobia]

fuck heathcare but like i got a degree specifically to enter nursing school. i have a lot of reasons why i don't want to do nursing anymore but damb that's a lot of time and energy wasted. i hate 12 hour shifts, i hate charting, i hate general patient care. but it's (apparently) a job with lots of options in lots of settings. i don't like bedside lol but maybe i could like psych or something outpatient.

i'm planning on doing special education now but eduction has a lot of problems too. i honestly really like my position in education right now and if i could i would make this my career. but alas, i'm going to eventually need my own insurance and this job has no benefits.

lately i've been really depressed so i haven't been working. but seeing those kids makes me so fucking happy. i met a lot of them when i did some special ed positions and they're so great. i feel like special ed is my calling.

that being said i'm fucking failing my classes right now because i'm too depressed to do schoolwork. and i don't know if the grants i got need to be repaid if i fail classes. if so i'm SO fucked because that's a LOT of money. 😭😭😫😭

[sout999]

adhd talk

the third truly unsung project alongside my film and dissertation was the weird amount of targeted effort i had to put into Completing Anything Big As A Neurodivergent Person Whose Brain Is A Crazy Off The Rails Train Staffed and Patronised Entirely By Multiple Exact Copies Of The Squirrel From Ice Age

which is a description like 99/100 people reading this can relate to, but i think a sentiment i see less often and therefore feel kind of stupid and stubborn and lonesome about is "adhd is innate but is also exasperated by hectic lifestyle/modern instant gratification machines so if i fix my habits around those i can cure myself forever". which is silly and wrong but also i feel abit disconnected from adhd social media culture and cant cope just relating to it (which is all it seems to be sometimes) but learning to harness or tame it to do the things that are really important to me

i felt really cringe tbh having to look up youtube videos of HARVARD STUDENT REVEALS PRO STUDY TRICK and then narrowing it down to specifically adhd-focused study videos and keeping a planner and setting aside specific time to study studying and practising anti-academic meltdown journaling techniques and reading fucking atomic habits but i really didn't want to contribute to my abhorrent academic record following me all through undergrad. in fact i wish i had done this sooner but i was not self aware enough to consider the fact

probably the best change i made was severely cutting down or being mindful of social media time, i don't backread my tl anymore and have more moments of awareness when i find myself dumbly scrolling and realize i dont want to be doing this, and then wondering what i actually Do want to be doing. i keep a book nearby to read, and have also swapped a lot of social media time to sketching-off-pinterest time. reading about the psychology behind social media apps is also super interesting, although i always feel like a paranoid wacko conspiracy theorist talking about it. stuff like how negativity and judgemental behaviour is good for engagement (and therefore ad revenue), and how if all posts on your tl were interesting you wouldn't be as addicted to social media as you are, therefore microblogging employs a slot machine/gacha system where you "roll" for posts by logging on and hope to get a good one. it's a little full on but the more i think of it as a revolting and evil machine the more incentive i have to do something else with my time ^q^

a harder thing to do was, in the late stages of the project, the real crunch time month, avoid everything that could become a huge hyperfixation, and then eventually even minor distractions or fixations. because i know if i got super obsessed with something i'd just be up posting about it or drawing fanart. i had to bar myself from persona 3 remake and elden ring dlc and all these other shiny new releases, and the mobile games i was playing... i look forward to catching up on them now. i took up reading books a lot more because unfortunately thats just not as exciting. in the last month of film work i stopped listening to music on my computer so i wouldnt get drawing or animation ideas to distract me from film work. as of writing this i havent listened to music in like 40 days guys 😱 at the same time i am the kind of person who needs background noise to work, so i have:

watched novum's four hour hereditary video essay three times

watched novum's seven hour midsomar video essay three times

watched that one five hour bojack horseman retrospective twice

listened to audiobooks of the Britney Spears biography, Jennette McCurdy biography, three Playboy Bunny biographies (i was on some sort of lady bopgraphy kick i guess), and a few fiction books

rewatched all of bojack horseman

started on House MD and got a few seasons in before i finished the project, amazingly the perfect show to look away from bc of all the medical stuff, how many lumbar punctures do you need to show like seriously

honorable mention to the learned skill of communication and being honest and picking your battles and killing your darlings which is a larger part of managing mental illness than i cared to admit but one of the hardest ones because it involved confronting things and making big painful drastic changes and then having to tell the faculty about them. sometimes i'd be stuck on a piece of animation work for weeks/months, then go back and change the underlying idea to one i'm actually passionate about, and do the animation work in one day using newly found magical hyperfocus passion power. it's crazy! but being able to be confident about taking those steps rather than keeping on with what you're "supposed" to do went a long way.

i very much look forward to listening to a music and playing some video games properly now and being pulverized like a small victorian child from the sheer amount of fun i'm having. i'd say it was all worth it and a fun experiment in channeling the magical humours of passion and boredom and i hope it will help me with future projects too. i Am super burnt out though x__ x thanks for reading and for all your support up until now!

[codenamehazard]

.:Waiting Room:.

Chapter 35: Waiting Room

Hey guys! Life's still hectic as hell and my brain has been refusing to brain as of late, but I managed to get this written before my brain decided to through a hissy fit.

Sorry it's a bit short, but I hope you guys still like it!

Without delay, let's jump in!

----------

I step into the reception area of Mercy Hospital, walking up to the receptionist lady manning the desk and taking a deep breath while I’m at it. I greet her and make some small talk with her before explaining my situation. Told her how I had came in with the Misfits when Pangolin was brought in and that I was told to ask about getting a physical and an “energy reading,” whatever the hell that was, from a “Dr. Sims.”

She asks for verification on this and I show her the letter and token, she look at me and nods before putting me into whatever system they have running in this wacko circus hospital before getting up and walking me to the waiting room the rest of the Misfits are basing in, at least until Pangolin is back on his feet again.

Once at the door, I thank the woman before opening the door and heading inside.

In the waiting room, I’m surprised to see that only a lone Misfit was in the waiting room. Dove, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. I’m already feeling uneasy about this whole thing with “Dr. Sims” and all of that, but seeing Dove like this? It makes my hackles raise. Didn’t help the fact I was expecting to see two birds in here, not just the one.

The sound of me closing the door gets the dodo’s attention.

“Oh, hey.” He awkwardly greets. I grunt in response before patrolling the room.

“Where’s your partner in crime?” I ask gruffly. “I know Mako’s out and about, though to where I don’t know. But last time I checked, Kestrel was here while you were visiting your brother.” Dove shifts nervously before finding his voice. “She’s in Pangolin’s room, it’s her turn to take watch over him. While we may be in safety, the worst threats often come in isolation.” I try to hold back a snort. Ain’t that the truth.

“As for Mako, she’s gone off to consult the Sisters Three. You know, measure twice, cut once. Make sure that she’s got all of her I’s dotted and T’s crossed for your lesson, so you aren’t blindsided again.” I can’t help but let out a loud and aggravated groan of annoyance before sit down in a chair and run my hands over my face. Of course she’s going to talk to those bitches, I should have known! I guess it makes sense, seeing as they probably know a hell of a lot more than me or anyone else, but still. After the hell those Three put me through? It makes bile sting the back of my tongue, I want as little involvement to do with them as possible.

A scoff escapes my throat. “Great, just fucking great. As if the woodland bitches weren’t finished with me.” I mutter to myself as sparks flicker off of my fingertips. “Thought I was gonna get a break from them for a good while but nooooooo. Gotta deal with them in a lesson plan too.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dove giving me a dirty look as I continue to grumble. It’s honestly kinda funny to see. Someone trying to mean-mug me when I know that all I would need to do is flex my powers a bit and he’d be running scared, after all, he has been on the receiving end of my power before.

An awkward pause lingers in the air as the dodo continues glares at me. Not surprised seeing as I was talking shit about his mother, but I can’t help but feel the way I do and if I think someone is a jackass, I don’t hold back.

I break the pause with a sigh. “You know… Pango’s lucky… And not just in the fact that we got him here in time.” Dove’s glare softens and he tilts his head before I continue on.

“He’s lucky to have you all. You, Kestrel, Mako… Got a team that actually gives a shit about him.” “Well… Yeah.” Dove murmurs softly as he starts to pick at his nails a bit. “He’s not just our leader, he’s our big brother.” He looks down at his nails as he fidgets some more. “He may be my brother by blood, but he’s a brother to us all. We’re kin, and kin always watch each-other’s backs, even when we aren’t on the best of terms.”

Hearing Dove talk about family, how everyone in the Misfits watches each-other’s back, it causes my heart to ache. Jealousy and a bitter sadness rings out in my head like a church-bell. A painful reminder of the truth.

That I am alone.

My bio-family sucked ass. Mom and dad only wanted me to be the perfect son. A prop they can brag about to all of their fake-ass friends. Only people that were worth caring about were my cousin and my younger brother… Everyone else could rot.

Then there was my chosen family. Trish and Zeke… The people that honestly, truly mattered to me… And they’re dead. One of them I couldn’t save and the other… Dead by my hand…

Before my mind could go too far into wallowing in my pathetic self-pity, I notice Dove sit down in the chair next to me. I can see it in his eyes, he wants to say something. What he wants to say, I don’t know, but it seems like Mako probably told him about what happens when people try to pry and get me to talk before I was damn good and ready to. A breath of relief to me, to be honest.

The silence doesn’t last when the bird speaks. “Hey… Thanks.”

I blink before turning my head to face him. “Thanks for… Knocking sense into me when I was losing my mind. If you didn’t do that, I probably would have slowed everything down…” I look at him surprised before I nod him, grunting in acknowledgement. “It’s nothing, Dove. You were worried about your brother, I get it.”

The door to the waiting room opens, stopping me from continuing on. I turn to look at who walked in and I see a man with sun-kissed skin and blond, combed hair in the door, all dressed in the tell-tale long white coat that doctors wear and holding a clipboard. He looks over to me with a warm smile and I raise an eyebrow at him before he speaks.

“I take it you’re Mr. MacGrath?”

[cthulhu-calling]

See You In Hell i

Natasha Romanoff x f!Reader

Warnings : alcohol, drugs, one night stands

Author's Note : If you couldn't tell, reader (as in you!) are Hades. I haven't mentioned any specific body type or other physical traits. My readers are mostly woc when I write them but anyone can read. More tags will be added but for this chapter your warnings are listed below. Happy reading!

Summary : When a dangerous group gets their hands on a substance that could mean the end of the world as we know it, it's on you to find out how to stop them. Of course, you don't mind some help along the way. Especially when it's in the form of a redheaded former assassin.

Word Count : 2155

series masterlist

This was getting old. Every night a long pub crawl, only coming to an end with the arrival of Apollo himself. Stepping through the doors of your penthouse, the tight leather of your pants sticking to you like a second skin, you really wished you hadn’t given her your spare key. 

Hecate lounged on your couch, one of the few pieces of furniture in your otherwise sparse living room. ‘Minimalism is all the rage’, the interior designer had said. A steaming mug of what you believed was peppermint tea was in her delicate hands. 

“Is there any whiskey in that by any chance?” you wondered out loud.

As an immortal being, a God, you couldn’t possibly get drunk on human liquor, though that didn’t mean you couldn’t appreciate the taste of a tumbler of aged scotch or a glass of wine that would put Dionysus to shame. Living forever loses its appeal after a couple hundred millennia. It was fun at first, great wars and even greater monsters. The high of slaying the horrors that had been unleashed upon the world by Kronos enough to make you continue this whole God gig and the shenanigans that came along with it. Thanks Dad. 

Rolling her deep brown eyes, she moved towards you before pushing the cup into your hands, “Drink up. Chad has called a council and you don’t want to be late,” she said as she fixed her deep red midi-length dress which you found too conservative for your tastes. I mean, you’re immortal. Live a little, for God’s sake. 

Your hands fly to your face, the heels of your palm digging into your eye socket as you groan throatily, “Ugh, remind me why I still bother to stay in touch with those losers?” you whine, beyond annoyed at this point. 

“Well, for starters, as the Ruler of the Underworld, you cannot just cut ties with the Ruler of the World and your brother. Plus, Mount Olympus has a pretty sweet waterslide,” she answered with a smirk. She wasn’t wrong. The waterslide was mean, even by Godly standards.

And she was right about the whole ‘Being the Ruler of the Underworld, overseer of souls and overall baddie’ part. But, contrary to what ‘Paradise Lost’ and ‘Lucifer’ would make you believe, Hades, or ‘Satan’ as you were more popularly known for the past couple of centuries, was not your charming, chain smoking bad boy with feathery black wings and a severe case of daddy issues (though that part could be argued. I mean, years stuck inside a wacko’s stomach with four siblings and a pretty large rock is bound to fuck a gal up in one way or another, right?) or even an ugly swamp monster. To begin with, Hades is a woman. Most people refuse to believe that Hades is anything but 200 pounds of pure muscle and seduction. A slice of heavenly beefcake. 

“Alright, let’s go. But I’m going to require an actual drink after this,” you grumble as Hecate slowly pushes you towards the shower. You didn't really need to shower as a God but why not? Especially if it will help you put off showing up at the upcoming family reunion for as long as possible.

“Do this and I’ll come out with you tonight,” she bribed. That was incentive enough for you and you quickly freshened up for what you were sure was going to be an awkward and uncomfortable coming together of The Ancient Family.

*

You huffed angrily as you walked back into your house, throwing your clutch and keys to one side before flopping down onto the chaise lounge. You were so sick of this. Every time. Every fucking time. 

You could hear Hecate’s rushed footsteps, her flats making an unnecessarily loud noise across the tiles. You groaned loudly, a hand across your forehead as you wondered why you even bothered.

She sat down next to you on the sofa and pulled your head into her lap, running her fingers through your hair. 

After a couple of moments of silence, your eyes closed, the stress of the day melted away slowly with the gentle movements of her fingers. Hecate had always been sensitive. She could feel your distress before you left for Mount Olympus but the anger rolling off of you in waves really put her on edge. 

“Look at the positive side honey, you get to spend more time around here on Ear-“ she says but is swiftly cut off by your throaty groan. “Fuck no,” you moan. 

“C’mon don’t be like that,” she tried but you moved away from her, walking towards your bedroom. “I need a real fucking drink,” you grumble as the door shuts with a loud band behind you, Hecate left alone in the living room, gently shaking her head. 

*

Natasha was exhausted. From back to back missions and Sam and Bucky’s constant bickering the whole time, it was safe to say that she’d had it. She needed a drink. 

So here they were, the whole team minus Bruce, in some seedy bar in Brooklyn where she knew the barkeep could make a decent enough drink and the patrons generally left them alone. It wasn’t easy being one of Earth’s mightiest heroes. 

Another mission that would last far too long, more than she cared for. At least it was a pretty low profile mission, just scouting and gathering some intel. There were strict orders not to get involved until and unless it was absolutely imperative for them to do so. She was glad it was Bucky who would be joining her. Steve was a goddamn killjoy and Sam never seemed to know when he should shut up. 

But for tonight and tonight alone, all of it was forgotten. Ideally, she’d like to meet a pretty girl and take her home for the night but she’d make do with a good drink and a plate of mozzarella sticks. But that was before she saw her. 

Looking at her, Natasha’s interest was instantly piqued. 

Even dressed down, she looked better than anybody present. Black skinny jeans that hugged all her curves, cropped red tank top and a leather jacket, paired with what looked like black Louboutin boots that proved she valued comfort just as much as style. She could faintly see the gleam of a gemstone of some sort at the woman’s waist, partially hidden by her jacket. 

She saw the woman take a seat at one end of the bar with her companions, directly in her line of sight. The taller one had russet brown skin with dark curly hair, dressed in a long, flowy purple dress and what looked like a necklace full of odd charms, her face having little to no make up. The shorter one was plump with pale white skin and dark makeup, wearing leather from head to toe. 

Sam too had noticed the women walk in. It was safe to say that a gorgeous woman never failed to catch his eye. Nudging Bucky, he jerked his head towards the trio. Bucky was instantly attracted to you and did not protest when Sam led him towards your seat at the bar. 

Natasha watched from afar, completely engrossed in the interaction. A small smirk played at her lips as she registered Steve taking a seat next to her, watching Sam and Bucky make fools of themselves. 

Natasha was definitely interested now. 

*

You were ready to end this shit show of a day on a good note. On a high note at the very least. And what better place than Dan’s, where the drinks are strong, the food is far too greasy and the music’s loud. 

You don’t know how but Hecate managed to convince Nyx to join you for the night but you weren’t one to complain. Nyx was an absolute blast, the best person to party with. Hecate on the other hand was only here for your sake. Dark and dingy bars were admittedly not her scene. 

The moment you set foot into the establishment, you know this was going to be a good night. You were dressed comfortably but you knew you looked good either way. It was hard not to be aware of it, especially when all heads turned to look at the three of you when you walked towards the bar. 

“Two beers and a ginger ale please,” Nyx says as she plops down on the barstool, letting her long, dark hair down. 

“Not drinking again?” You question, grabbing the beer and taking a large gulp. 

“All of it tastes like piss anyway,” she grumbled, cracking open the can and taking a small sip. 

Hecate elects to stay quiet, slowly sipping her beer, cringing at the taste of it. You’re scanning the establishment, generally checking people out when you see two men approaching your group. They were hot, no doubt, but you kinda just wanted a night to yourselves. But you decided to have fun with them before letting them down not so easy.

Natasha had front row tickets to the shenanigans, watching as the group of women totally tore into both Bucky and Sam. She would have felt bad for them if she didn’t find it so fucking hilarious. But what was funnier though, was the fact that you were there the next morning, sitting at the kitchen island while Sam made pancakes. She saw you walking towards him, reaching for the syrup and grabbing his butt in the process. 

“This is a common space, you know?” Natasha asks, walking towards the counter and grabbing a plate.

“Sorry,” Sam mumbles bashfully. You just toss her a smirk and she’s not sure if her eyes are deceiving her but you seem to be checking her out. She’s sure you are when you wink at her before focusing your attention on Sam again.

Once most of the team is here, other than Bucky who seemed to have spent the night elsewhere, Tony is quick to start an interrogation

“So, Y/n, what is it that you do?”

You take your time answering, taking a long, drawn out sip of your coffee.

“Oh, I’m a manager of sorts,” you answer vaguely.

“Here in Manhattan?” Tony continues, still suspicious. 

“Mhm, downtown,” you supply. 

“Hmm, interesting,” Tony trails off and all of them stare at him, wondering why he’s acting so strange. Sam looks particularly embarrassed but you don’t seem to care, finishing your food and putting your plate away. When your phone begins to ring, you grab it quickly, but not quick enough that Natasha can’t read the name of the caller. Vanko Lebedev. Why does that sound so familiar? 

“Uh-huh, okay,” you’re quick to get on your feet then, giving Sam a kiss on the cheek before you leave with a “I’ll call you,” thrown his way.

He only realises later that you never got his number. 

*

The next time the team sees you is rather unexpected. It’s two weeks after they initially met you. Natasha and Clint are undercover at a gala hosted by the governor in honour of Valerie Banks, philanthropist and business woman. The woman had made a donation to one of the charities that the governor had started, a sizable donation. And there you were, all dolled up and hanging off her arm. 

It’s when she sees you that all warning bells start going off in her head. Valerie Banks was who Natasha and Clint were on the lookout for. Her company, a pharmaceutical one, was rumoured to have procured a substance quite like the super soldier serum and were supposedly on their way to making their own superhumans. To see you with her definitely raises her suspicions. It’s not just Banks that they have to look into now, but you too. 

Natasha, despite her good looks, knew how to blend into the crowd. So well that you didn’t realise as she followed you to the restroom. She sees you slip into the restroom but unlike what she expected, you don’t lock the door. She’s cautious, listening through the door. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve basically got her eating out of my palm. I mean, who knew rich women could be so desperate?” you giggle.

[ohbutwheresyourheart]

dante and/or the whole dmc 5 crew for the blorbo meme? :)

oh ho HO thank you for this, I love the DMC gang and don't talk about them enough

disclaimer/note to begin with: they all have pretty privelege and they all need to stop being put in situations, because that's just who they all are as people/chew toys of fate

second disclaimer: I made this post while drinking a big old bottle of beer so if this commentary goes off the rails the further you go down the post then that's why

also I'm putting these under a cut bc this got really long

first up: dante!!!

fewer boxes crossed off than I was expecting but when I sat down and thought about it there were some I couldn't justify, e.g. in my heart I want to believe I can fix him and he needs me but let's be real the only thing that ever had the power to fix Dante is getting his bro back </3

also I say most fandom takes are incorrect bc my main contact with the DMC fandom was back in the day where it was very common to portray Dante as this LOL SO RANDOM horndog (i.e. as if his projected persona was his... actual deep-seated personality) and I am a depression Dante truther. not sure what the current fandom mentality on Dante is, if things have moved on then disregard

next up: nero!!!

gonna be honest, I wasn't too fussed about Nero until DMC 5 and then he quickly leapfrogged into my heart because oh my god this poor, poor, POOR kid. born to be the straight man in a universe of wackos. trying SO HARD to keep this mess of a family on track but if you push him so help him sparda he WILL turn this car around.

I need more Nero. I need more Nero and Kyrie, specifically. I need to see them just living their average everyday lives where Nero slops his way home covered in demon guts and sluices off then puts a load of laundry on and helps Kyrie with dinner.

also hahahahahaa definitely nothing in there about growing up feeling like an outcast so thoroughly one might as well have had a fucked up demon appendage, nope, nothing like that!!!

V aka DOUBLE BINGO

I have a thing for pasty ass dark haired skinny twink vaguely feeble romantic poet creatures okay even though I would get so frustrated the tenth time I asked him a simple question and he replied with a blake quote

but also HE WAS HIS OWN PERSON he was REAL he was ALIVE and now he's NOT because he WASN'T VERGIL, he was HIMSELF, he was HUMAN, and now he's GONE but also he lives on but also V as an individual is GONE but they'll still see glimmers and hints of him in Vergil and be reminded of him but but but (bites fingers and screeches)

THE ALPHA AND THE OMEGA

okay so all of my years of fangirling aside I have to be upfront that if I ever met Vergil I would want to tear his smug disdainful face apart with my bare hands in a matter of minutes

HOWEVER in the realm of fandom, the only reason he ranks lower than V is because V exudes that high fructose twink timothee chalamet energy

I cannot fix him. he does not need me. and yet. whomst among the ranks of Vergil fancreatures has not sat up late at night in their early/mid-teens frantically typing barely-disguised self-insert fanfic where we DO fix him, where we are the ONLY ones who can fix him, where we are the Eva to his Sparda, washing away the sins of his past and anointing him with love?

Vergil is the most anti-hero of all time. he has it all. he's a genocidal maniac, except maybe he isn't because maybe the qliphoth was going to grow there anyway and he just got in on the demonic gentrification scheme at the right moment. he literally has an unspeakably tormented and tortured past.

he has mommy issues. he has daddy issues. he has brother issues. he has son issues. he's a weeaboo. he loves poetry. he hates you, both generally and specifically. he has the hauteur and arrogance of christian fifty shades. underneath it all he just wants desperately to be loved and protected. his idea of bonding is a no-holes-barred beatdown.

he has an extremely weird obsession with his brother, whom he hates, but loves, but hates, but loves, but hates, but wants to spend forever with, but hates, but would kill anyone if they tried to hurt him. literally every bad thing he's ever done originally stemmed from the need to be strong enough to protect what he cares about (DANTE) because he can't go through losing his family again.

i love him <3

[kylekozmikdeluxo]

Those Two Times BIONICLE and TOTAL DRAMA Came to My Rescue

#longpost likely incoming...

Some things have a weird significance in my life, whether it's stuff I genuinely enjoy or stuff I could just take or leave...

But, I just remembered something...

I was looking through some older videos of mine, and came across a few I did in the pit of the miserable summer that was mid-2020. And while watching these old videos to see what kind of editing I did, I was hit with intense flashbacks... Flashbacks that reminded me how confusing and scary those times were for me, amidst the pandemic and life seemingly not about to get better. Add to that, a lot of nationwide happenings, and seeing people around me devolve into parroting all the worst misinformation about the then-current political climate.

I had some other things going on at the time, too, that ranged from disheartening to outright terrifying... I'd say July/early August 2020 was where I had some serious anxiety attacks...

Conversely, I was uncorking a version of me that I kinda had suppressed through high school, and really dialed down during my weird snobby pseudo-adult college years. So, I was letting a wild unchained side of myself flourish again circa May-August 2020. I was writing and drawing and creating some wiiiiild stuff, stuff I hadn't genuinely enjoyed creating in a looooong while. I think a lot of this was due to not having to worry about a work schedule and other commitments, I was home all the time! So, I had all the time in the world to let my creativity flow like a dam had been burst.

And then meanwhile, all this unrest was going on, COVID was not lessening because people kept spreading it, misinfo was everywhere, TFG is king!!! The 2020 presidential election looming, threats of violence and voter suppression from the right- which eventually plateaued with the 1/6 attempted insurrection... And then there was something else that I won't specify, but something that was emotionally draining me and terrifying the fuck out of me around this time... To the point where I was worried I'd associate my weird wacko creative autistic side of myself with this very thing, and suppress it again out of fear... Reject it outright, even! But luckily, I closed off the problem and continued onward, I continued to write and draw the stuff I love to make...

But by mid-August of 2020, it was like I had made it out of a trip through some kind of hell. Battered and smashed, to borrow from the opening monologue of MAD MAX 2...

And around this time, I guess because I was in the mood for them or I was feeling kind of warm and cozy inside... I revisited two things I dig...

BIONICLE and TOTAL DRAMA...

Weirdly enough, I turned to both of those franchises when it came to bad periods in my life...

BIONICLE and I go way back. As in, when this very Lego line was first introduced in North America in the summer of 2001. My love affair with BIONICLE was a bit on and off afterwards. It was my whole jam throughout 2001, all the way into the fall/winter. (I got tons of Bonkle sets for my birthday and for Christmas.) Into early 2002 as well, I was writing fanfiction even. I was like "When I'm older, I'll make animated movies, and a BIONICLE movie will be one of them!" And I was writing that theoretical movie for some time!

(I still would LOVE to make animated movies, but right now, I'm putting my focus on making comics and graphic novels.)

Then I kinda put BIONICLE aside, and then got back into it, somewhat, in late 2002. When the Toa Nuva sets came out... I remember buying the new Gali Nuva set on my first-ever trip to New York City, got it at the FAO Schwartz!

Then I put the franchise aside, again... and then turned to it once more in late 2003... That was when... The first MOVIE came out. The direct-to-video Miramax release BIONICLE: MASK OF LIGHT... Plus, the arrival of many new sets: Takanuva, the Toa of Light. The Rahkshi. Plus, beasts like the Gukko bird and Pewku the crab. I bought the blue Rahkshi back then, and played around with the mini-CD that came with it. Back when PCs having a CD-ROM (!) drive was a big must... So, I was all about Bonkle again!

And in late 2003, I needed it... Because I was dealing with middle school pains (it was my first year), my paternal grandfather slowly dying after a stroke, various bullshit, and me just not being myself and having a lot of personal problems to work through. The franchise took a break after MASK OF LIGHT, and it later made its big return with the all-new prequel storyline set in a whole new location. That was in late 2004. Naturally, I was ready to go all-in: New movie, new characters, new sets, everything. But I'm getting ahead of myself here... BIONICLE, during the MASK OF LIGHT era, was like a warm blanket I could to turn to in late 2003. A special interest I could sink myself in. I was writing stories back then, too, so it naturally appealed to me with its colorful array of characters and its rich worldbuilding and lore. It's why all those BIONICLE Lore memes bring me so much joy. Other people were engulfed in this stuff, too!

Eventually, BIONICLE was off my radar by about late 2005 or so, as my brain drifted to other special interests.

So, enter 2008... I had finished sophomore year of high school in June 2008, an absolutely horrid semester for a multitude of reasons that I went over in other posts (particularly my 2-part post on my weird history with the MADAGASCAR movies), but... The short version? I was 15, depressed, feeling like I was the worst person, I was absolutely shook by a friendship turned sour and going on cutthroat message boards as my unrefined autistic self, I didn't have one of my close friends around to help me feel better about things, and my maternal grandfather was slowly dying after a disastrous hospital visit, I was getting wind that I wasn't straight and that horrified me... Yes, late 2007 going into early 2008 freakin' suuuuuucked.

(15 years later, the present... I'm openly queer. Please don't read that above sentence as me being upset that I'm not straight. I was back then because I was 15 and homophobia was rampant in its own peculiar way in 2008.)

And by summer 2008, there was a streak in me of sorts. That I aggressively wanted for things to get better, but the bad chemistry in my brain wasn't letting me- until I snapped out of it. (It also helped that this bummer mood was pissing off others around me, and some of them have HAD IT, and they sure let me know!) And by the end of August 2008... All those horrible, hateful, bad feelings... Were gone...

Yes folks, I remember when these things specifically happened... That's how my autistic analytical photographic memory works, for better or for worse...

So, around that time, a particular Canadian animated TV series had come to Cartoon Network in the United States... TOTAL DRAMA ISLAND.

Now, when I caught wind of this show, I was like... "Total Drama? DRAMA? What has Cartoon Network come too???"

I had kinda given up on Cartoon Network sometime in mid-2007, a little after their president at the time - Jim Samples - got fired for the AQUA TEEN movie scare involving LED lights of the Mooninites hung around Boston that were thought to be bombs placed by terrorists throughout the city. (Yes, this actually happened. The W. Bush/immediate post-9/11 era was a weeeeeird time.)

Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah, Cartoon Network after Samples left. I was uninterested by then, and kinda stupidly nostalgic for what the network was prior to 2006/07. I was definitely more into [adult swim] by then, for sure! But, once in a while I'd pop on CN in early 2008 and see things like... SKUNK FU? MR. MEN? JOHNNY TEST, I think? When I wanted to see reruns of, say, ED EDD N' EDDY or even something like FOSTER'S HOME FOR IMAGINARY FRIENDS. Keep in mind, this was during sick days... And CN mornings during sick home from school days were... Also weird... Heck, I think one of the things I randomly watched on CN during a sick day was that CGI GARFIELD movie where he and Odie go to the real world. When you're 15, depressed, bored, and whatnot, you end up watching unlikely shit.

Again, I went off track... It's what I do, sorry. I'm a tangenter, for sure. I probably lost you, if I did, I apologize! Anyways... So, I see these listings for this "Total Drama" show and I'm like... This is what it's come to, huh?

I had caught glimpses of it, and thought... What are these characters? They're all terrible stereotypes! Ironic, coming from an actual 15-year-old at the time... But then, for whatever reason, I put it on... It was the episode "X-treme Torture". The one where Heather's top gets ripped off by the tree branch, and they show her blurred breasts...

And I was like, "Wait? This is on CARTOON NETWORK and not ADULT SWIM???" I had also seen that it was rated TV-PG, rare for a CN show back in the day. I was used to their stuff being either TV-G or TV-Y7 (sometimes with an FV)... So, it was a surprise to me, and I was intrigued. What 15-year-old wouldn't be? So I watched more of it, and found myself quite enjoying it for its fun characters, weird humor, and... Well, I also had crushes on several of the contestants back then, too, haha. In true form, my favorite was probably Gwen, the goth girl. Yeah, I'm one of those sadsacks who always had a cliched love for goth gals. Loved goth gals then, and I love goth women now. It didn't begin with Gwen, for sure, but she was a major part of it all no less.

So, yeah, I really dug TOTAL DRAMA ISLAND. I even looked up uploads of the original Canadian version on YouTube at the time, to see all the cuss words we didn't get in the stinky states. (The butchering of Lindsay going off on Heather in 'That's Off The Chain' is a work of censorship that astounds me - in all the wrong ways - to this day.) I largely kept this love for the show secret, and eventually I kinda forgot about it over time. I didn't really check out TOTAL DRAMA ACTION much when it was airing in spring 2009-ish, the rest passed me by. I briefly checked out ALL-STARS for a bit. There's a new season that's been out... Only in Italy, apparently. "Short Run in Peru", haha.

But in mid-to-late 2008, I was all-in on TOTAL DRAMA...

And, I got back into BIONICLE around the fall of 2008! I didn't follow any of the new stuff, I strictly stuck to the 2001-2004 era BIONICLE stuff. Mata Nui era and early Metru Nui era. I rewatched the first two movies, and I had a blast. It was fun to dig out my old sets. (Which are now in my studio.)

...

So then, fast-forward... August 2020... Coincidentally...

For whatever reason, I decided to revisit TOTAL DRAMA ISLAND... And BIONICLE...

When I revisited TOTAL DRAMA, I was struck by just how genuinely funny and entertaining it was, how sharp the voice acting is (Christian Potenza in particular, like he's having a ball as Chris McLean), and I even found something to appreciate in its often-criticized art style. Its slow pace, the reality show format, how it parodies the genre and also embraces its most entertaining elements (making for what is perhaps the *best* reality show? Leave it to animation to make a genre I generally dislike into something enjoyable), the summer island vibes, its looseness... Like, there's something kinda cozy about it. Later seasons are a little faster and a little more hectic, I feel.

And when I was re-watching TDI, along with the cheesy direct-to-DVD BIONICLE movies, all felt right in the world circa August-September 2020ish. In a sort-of weird, maybe not nostalgic way, but in a cozy and comfortable way. One is a good vibes show, the other is a cool lore-packed action-adventure with colorful robots. They're both big hits with me, that's for sure.

Maybe I'll pop the lid off of both pretty soon... It's August 2023, and life's been rough for me once more... I moved out earlier this year, I'm trying to find a really good job (my work situation right now is kinda mixed), anti-LGBTQIA+ shit continuously brings me down as I grapple with being openly queer and having to deal with a good chunk of my family being very conservative, I have rent to pay now, and groceries too, and it's ahhhhhhh!

Maybe August is made for TOTAL DRAMA and BIONICLE...

Isn't it weird how life repeats certain verses and choruses?

[loversinthesnow]

Chapter Two: Vampire's Will Never Hurt You

“If I recall correctly, this gets us to the Northside quicker. You live ‘round there too, right?” She asks.

“Yeah,” I sigh, remembering what I have to go back home to, “You sure it's a good idea to go now though? It's late and dark out - who fucking knows what's around at this time, probably some junkies or vampires or something.”

Art credit:  aceandhisfrogs on instagram - raymondrllylikesmcr on tiktok.

“Well it's either that or go back to the hospital - and I'd take my chances with a junkie-vampire hybrid then go back to whatever that place was.” She rolls her eyes at me.

“Fair point.. guess we'll just have to be quick then.”

She nods in agreement, and we continue onwards. We've gotten through to the outskirts of the field - it's a forest area, filled with sad looking birch trees and weeds growing everywhere. It's not a pleasant sight, to be honest. It's sad, there's not a single hint of wildlife anywhere. But maybe that's just because it's dark out. Or maybe they've left - migrated to somewhere better for them. Can't say I blame them. I'd leave if I could too.

“So, how long will it take us to get out of here then - I know the hospital isn't any better but we really shouldn't be out here for too long.” I eye her nervously. The last thing either of us need right now is to get even more hurt.

“I dunno, probably like a 20 minute walk? 15 if we're quick, so it's really not that long, no need to worry.”

I sigh, my breath shaky. We really shouldn't be out here. And definitely not for that long.

“Clyde??? Jesus Christ, relax. Nothing is gonna happen to you. Now c'mon, if you're that worried about being here then let's get going.” She reaches for my hand, and I latch onto it.

“Yeah, I guess you're right..” I mumble, gazing at the moons reflection in her eyes. It's a pretty sight.

-

As we wander through the dark, the sounds of branches breaking under our feet is unsettling to put it lightly. I'm fighting the urge to jump or start crying ever second, while Bonnie rolls her eyes at me about 20 times a minute, which I didn't even think was physically possible - but I guess I stand corrected. I'm a human being - of course I have fears. That's normal, right?

“I swear to fucking God, if have to listen to you breathing like you're on life support for any longer, I’ll leave you here.” She says sternly, and I can feel her eyes practically burning into me.

“I'm sorry, okay? I just have a big fear of vampires and like, all things supernatural. I don't like being out late, especially not in some random forest besides some hospital full of wackos-”

“Or maybe you're just a wuss? What happened to your whole, ‘tough guy' bullshit from earlier? We've been walking for like, ten minutes and you're acting like it's the end of the fucking world. Get over yourself Clyde.”

“I-”

“Look,” she says, cutting me off. “We're here. See, you've been worried over nothing.” She says, grinning proudly. “I told you, everything would work out fine-”

Her smirk disappears almost instantly, as she slips on something and tumbles down.

“Jesus what the fuck,” she whines, “what the hell was that?”

“Here,” I offer her my hand. “What’d you trip on?”

“Do you think I have a clue??”

I look down to see her knee - it's scrapped and looks like it's about to start bleeding. Shit. Blood.

“Bonnie.. I know this might be bad timing, but where the fuck are we?”

As she looks around, a worrying expression growing on her face.

“I think we might've um.. taken a wrong turn..?”

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘might’ve taken a wrong turn’??? Where are we???” I'm fighting the urge to start screaming at her.

“Maybe it just looks different cause it's night! I mean, lighting is a really important factor in determining your surroundings-”

“What is wrong with you?” I feel my voice rising.

“What?-”

“I said what the fuck is wrong with you????” I'm practically yelling at this point, “We're out in the middle of nowhere at God only knows what time of the night - we've just escaped a fucking hospital and you've somehow managed to injure yourself and now you're bleeding. Do you have any idea what your carelessness could get us into? Who knows what's out here, we could be killed, Bonnie.” I find that my fist is curled and I feel like I'm about to challenge God himself to a fistfight. How could she be so stupid? So negligent?

“I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to..”

“Y’know, I should just leave you here. Honestly, I don't even know why I bothered taking you with me. I thought maybe you'd be capable, but I guess not. I'm rarely wrong, so consider yourself a disappointment.”

“I said I'm sorry..” she mutters.

“I think you'd be of more use back in some lab, at least then you might help save someone instead of risking someone's life. Or was this your plan? Lure them in, so they can get me again? You're a nasty little bitch if you think that'd work. A naive one too.”

“I said I'm fucking sorry!” She yells, her voice breaking. “I didn't mean to get us here, I didn't mean to fall. Please don't leave me here - I don't wanna die yet.”

Seeing the tears in her eyes brings me back to reality. Shit, what am I doing? She's obviously not trying to get me killed, God what is wrong with me?

“Don't leave me here..” Her voice is nearly a whisper.

“I'm sorry Bonnie, I'm not gonna leave you here. I didn't mean any of that - We just have to get out of here as soon as possible. You're bad enough as is and I feel like I haven't eaten in days. We're vulnerable, if a vampire or even a regular human went for us we'd be done for. C'mon, we’ll have to find some form of shelter.” I offer my hand to her.

“Please don't let them hurt me..” She mutters, sniffling.

“I won't.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah,” I pull her up, “I promise.”

-

“Are you sure this is the best place to go to?” She asks, as we near the entrance to a shitty looking pub.

“Well, vampires can’t exactly get drunk without a circulatory system, can they? So they wouldn’t have any business in here.”

“But being around a bunch of drunks isn’t much better, is it? Plus, they could look for victims here, so it’s probably not all that safe in here either-”

“Would you rather be outside or in here then?” I roll my eyes at her. “We really don’t have many options right now, do we?”

She looks as if she’s on the verge of debating me, but she stays quiet. The outside of the building’s off-white paint is peeling off, yet from the windows it seems packed.

“Why would anyone willingly go in here?” I question, stepping through the door. It reeks of a mix of piss and bear. And sweat.

“Clyde we literally just walked in-”

“That’s besides the point.”

She giggles at me, and I flip her off in response. It’s not like I wanted to be here - we just didn’t have a choice. It was either this, or almost certainly getting attacked if we stayed outside. By someone, or most likely something.

“You’re a pretty one, aren’t ya?” A grubby looking man slurs, stumbling over to us. His breath is unpleasant - but his face is somehow even worse.

“You got a name, sweetheart?”

I look over to see Bonnie’s annoyed expression. She’s glaring at him like he’s just killed her firstborn.

“I don’t think she’s interested man.” I say, answering his question for her.

“I think the missus has a voice,” He says, stepping towards me.

“And I don’t think she’d be interested in someone like you either.”

“Ooh, look who's got his panties in a twist. What, you can’t handle another man looking at your bitch?”

“What, can you not handle a no?”

“Well, she didn't say nothing, did she?”

I feel Bonnie tugging on my sleeve, and she looks uncomfortable. Please, it's not like they'll hurt her.

“C'mon Bonnie, let's just go get a drink.” I say, taking her hand. She's still glaring at me. I've got no clue why.

“How ‘bout you come with me princess” He says, grabbing her, and he begins to pull her away. She looks scared now. Shit, maybe she had a point.

“Let her go asshole.” I grab her hand back from him, and his face turns red.

Really fucking red.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? D’you really think some fag in a dress could ever scare me?”

Fag in a dress?? Right. The hospital gown. I’m still in that. Fuck.

“Just let her go, I don't want any trouble.”

He inches closer, until he's right in my face, my back against the wall.

“Let me ask you again,” I feel his breath on my face, and his grip around Bonnie tightens, “Do you really think you could scare me?”

“Yeah.” I wish I was as confident as I sound.

Before I even get a chance to think, I feel his hand wrap around my throat. I feel my vision go blurry.

“I'm gonna fuck you up boy.”

I look over to see Bonnie frozen - her eyes are tearful and her face is pale. I mutter to her, “go.”

I suddenly feel a sharp pain in my gut, and a punch to my jaw. I fall to the ground, watching a psychotic smile grow on his face. It's like the world's gone to slow motion - or everything feels like it. I see him move his leg in a forward motion towards my head, but I roll away just in time. Scrambling up on my feet, I know there's no way in hell I can take this guy. I've got to run, but how?

“Where'd all that confidence go, huh?” He says with a shit eating grin.

He throws another punch, aiming for my nose this time, but I dodge, so he punches the wall instead. His face winces in pain, and I kick him hard in the shin. I begin to run out, but he grabs my arm before I get the chance.

“You're in for it now, jackass.” He growls, his fist colliding with my face, my nose taking most of the hit. I stumble slightly, and all I can hear is him chuckling. No one in here seems to care - but Bonnie's gone, so there's that. I feel the blood come running down my nose, and can hear him chuckling. He's cocky for sure. Maybe this can work to my advantage. I step towards the window, hoping he throws another punch near my head.

“If you're so sure, why don't you knock me out right here then?”

“Gladly.”

Like I anticipated, he swings right at my head again, completely disregarding the window behind me. He misses, his fist colliding with the glass, and it shatters on impact, slicing through his knuckles. He yelps in pain, and I take my opportunity to dash. Slamming the door behind me, I see Bonnie pacing outside.

“What the fuc-”

“I don't have time to explain, we have to go.”

I grab her hand, and start running beyond the pub and few houses that surround it, into yet another forest area.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” She asks, her voice dripping with bitterness.

“Getting us away from that lunatic? You see what he did to my face?”

We're back in the middle of the woods again - but it's better than being near him.

“I think we're okay here.” I mumble, out of breath. “Y’know, you're lucky I stood up for you, who knows what could've happene-”

I feel another punch to my face again, but this time it's not from a grubby man - it's Bonnie.

“I'm lucky? I'm lucky that you ‘protected’ me? I'm lucky??” She sounds almost confused - offended, even.

“I-”

“Don't you fucking start,” She cuts me off, “If you had listened to me none of this shit would’ve even happened in the first place.”

“But we couldn't just stay outside, it's dangerous-”

“And being completely surrounded by men isn't?” Her voice sounds hurt. Shit, I never thought about it like that.

“I'm sorry, I didn't think about that-”

“Yeah of course you didn't, you've never had to.”

Taking a good look at her now, she still looks scared shitless. She has the same fear in her eyes as she did when I snapped at her earlier. Fuck, did I make her feel like that too?

“Are you okay?” I’m almost too scared to ask. Does she really find men this threatening? Are they really that bad? Am I really that bad?

“Yeah.. I guess so,” She mumbles, almost inaudible. “Your nose is still bleeding.” She wipes some of the blood from above my lip.

“Thanks.” I try and smile at her comfortingly. I hope it works. Or helps in someway.

“We should probably leave.. not back to that pub but somewhere else.. any shelter without too many people should do.”

“Yeah.” I agree, and we begin walking onwards, with no clue where we’re going. She’s still visibly shaken up - I can see it in the way she walks ever so carefully, avoiding even twigs with a paranoid expression glued to her face.

“Would it make you feel better if I held your hand?”

“W-what?” She stutters.

“Like.. hold your hand? The way lovers do, or how a mother holds her child’s hand-”

“No I know what holding hands is dumbass, I’m not stupid, it’s just kind of weird, y’know.”

“Well, you’re obviously scared, so I thought it might help-”

“Am not!” Her cheeks flush, “If anyone’s scared it’s you with your vampire bullshit.”

“Sureeeeee, I’m the scared one when you’re still shaking.” I eyeroll but as I’m about to stick my tongue out at her, I hear something crack.

“See! I’m not scared of your stupid twig breaking pranks, I didn’t even twitch!” She beams. There’s another crack.

It’s louder this time.

“Seriously, again? Jeez, give it a minute, you're not gonna scare me with the same trick twice in a row.”

Something cracks again. But it's not just louder now - it's closer too.

“Okay Clyde, the jokes over. What's even the point of it.”

“Bonnie..” I look behind her, “That wasn't me..”

Her face shifts from one of confusion to one of horror. With her eyes wide, she turns to face me.

“What the fuck do you mean that wasn't you??” She steps towards me. Something is moving behind her.

We're fucked.

“Bonnie,” I begin, “You're gonna have to take my hand and just trust me on this one, okay..?” I grab onto her hand, and she nods, and the fear from earlier has returned to her eyes. The rustling gets loader now, and it sounds closer. It is closer.

“Oh man,” I mutter to myself, “We’re royally fucked.”

With her hand in mine, we start running. God only knows where to.

“Clyde what the fuck was that?” She asks, her eyes wide. I only shush her in response.

“Be quiet!” I whisper shout, “We’ll have to go to some form of holy land - or find a stake. Or a cemetery.”

“Well why the fuck do we have to do that?”

“What comes out at night to pray on humans and hates all things holy?” I ask, almost rhetorically.

“Shit..”

“Yeah..” I exhale, still running, doing my best to not step on any glass or sticks or anything that'd snap under my weight.

“Uh.. Clyde?..”

“Shhhh!”

“Look,” She says, pointing to the left. I freeze.

Is that a dead body?

“What the fuck..” I inch closer.

“D’you think they were..”

“Yeah,” I gaze down at the lifeless body, a rip in it’s neck, blood stained everywhere. I can’t even make out anything else about this person - all I know is remains of their body is all that’s left of them.

I don’t want that to be me.

Or her either.

“Listen, we can’t help them now - they’re long gone at this point. We really need to leave, like, now-” I turn to face her, but her face has gone blank. Her eyes are lifeless.

What?

“Bonnie,” I begin, “I know it’s horrible but we have to leave now or that’ll be us next. C’mon.” I grab her hand, but she’s frozen in place.

“Bonnie,” My grip around her wrist tightens, “I said we need to go. Come on.” She still doesn’t budge.

“Bonnie!” I nearly yell. “You can’t help them - we need to leave. Please.”

The rustling from earlier is back again, but louder this time. I’m torn - what do I do? I can’t just leave her here - she’ll die. But I’ll die **if I stay. Fuck, what am I meant to do?

“Excuse me sir,” A shadow emerges, his face a ghostly white, hair jet black. And I can see blood on his hands. Shit. That could be ours next. “I don’t mean to disturb you, but do you know anything about the.. deceased here?” A man He looks down at the shredded corpse. He doesn’t even blink.

“No.. Me and my uhm..” I look over to Bonnie, whose still motionless, “We were on an evening walk and came across it. We know nothing.”

“I see,” He glances at Bonnie, “Is she alright?” Bonnie blinks in response.

“I, uhm..” She mumbles, eyes still hazy, face still blank.

“Miss, do you know this man?” He points at me, as if I’m some fool. Of course she knows who I am, what does he think she’ll do?

“I,” She turns to me, and I nod. “I don’t.”

I turn to her in horror, “What??? Bonnie, what the fuck??? What are you doing???” I hiss. She begins to walk towards the man, but I grab her before she takes another step.

“Sir,” He whispers, practically in my ear, “Let her go. It’ll be easier.” I see the moonlight reflect on his teeth, and it’s sickeningly bright.

I’m done for.

We’re done for.

“I really don’t want any trouble,” I start, taking a step backwards, still with a hold on Bonnie’s hand.

“There’s a body over there, can that not hold you off?” I attempt to bargain. He looks back briefly, and I quickly grab a branch from the forest floor. God, I hope this works.

“Well, that doesn’t have anything to do with her, now does it?” He smiles down at me, condescendingly, “Just give me the girl and I’ll be on my way.”

“Okay..” I sigh, but as I begin to let go of Bonnie’s hand, I grab his arm, stabbing the branch into it, catching him off guard. I kick him in the knee, and snatch Bonnie. I don’t even bother looking back. All I know is I have to keep running. For both of our sakes.

-

“Bonnie, please,” I shake her once we’re in the church grounds. I had to carry her bridal style, since she was still unresponsive. She blinks once, her eyes regaining their spark.

“Holy shit what the fuck happened? Where are we? What happened to the body-” Her voice is high pitched and shaky. Well at least I know it’s her.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I hold her shoulders as she shakes, “We’re in the grounds of a church, we should be okay for now.”

“I’m so sorry,” She stutters, “I have no idea what happened, I can’t remember anything.. I just remember the corpse and blood and then I think I blacked out or something-” She rambles on.

“I think you must’ve been put under hypnosis or something.. maybe some sort of charm.” I mutter.

“How d’you know? Have you some sort of experience?”

“Uhm..” I pause, “I guess you could say that. But we need some sort of plan to get out of here.”

“I thought you said we’d be safe here? Or at least in the church itself.”

“Well I’d rather be safe than sorry. I want him dead.”

“What??? You want who dead???”

Right. She won’t remember the man - or rather vampire from earlier.

“Well, when you ‘blacked out’ earlier, a man approached us. I think he was the one who hypnotized you. I think he killed that other guy too, his hands were stained red and he was pale as all hell.”

Her eyes widen.

“Anyways, he asked if we knew anything about the dead person, and then asked if you were okay. Then when you didn’t respond, he asked if you knew who I was, and you said you didn’t and started walking over to him.. He kept saying to just let it be and that I could leave.”

“I’m so sorry..”

“I ended up stabbing him in the arm with a branch when his back was turned for a second. I ran and carried you until I found this place. Since we don’t know who he is or what he’s capable of, we need him dead.” ”I..” She trails off, “Why did he even want me in the first place?..” She pauses for a moment, and I watch as it clicks in her head. “Oh.”

“I won’t let him hurt you, okay? I promise.” I take her hand.

“We’ll need to find a stake and some crosses. Holy water too if we can. We can look in the church, since they’ll have to have something in there.”

We walk up towards the church, which seems to be abandoned. The graves surrounding the building are all unkept, weeds growing everywhere. It’s sad to see - graved abandoned by their loved ones. Not even a memory anymore.

“I hate seeing this place so run down.” She says as we walk up the steps to the church’s door.

“Y’know, it was probably the heart of the community - a place for people to bond over their faith. And now it’s just.. this.” She states sadly.

“I guess so..” I pause, “But religion can bring people apart just as much too. I’ve never understood it, the whole ‘faith in God’ thing.”

“I take it you don’t believe in God then.”

“I guess not.” I reply, “Do you?”

“Yeah,” She pushes the door open, “I like to think he’s looking out for me - looking out for all of us.”

We step through the doors, and are inside the building. There’s a strong scent coming from somewhere in here, and I can only cough in response.

“What the fuck is that?..” Bonnie mutters.

“No idea.. C’mon, we have to find some holy water, and a crucifix or two. There might be a stake somewhere in the back if we’re lucky..”

“Okay well, crucifixes and holy water I get - but why the hell would there be a wooden stake in a church of all places?”

“You smell that?” I eye her.

“Yeah…? Obviously, even the dead could smell something that pungent.”

“Well that is the smell of the dead.”

“Oh.” Her face drops in disgust.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re not the first to use this place as a hideout, so there’s probably a stake or something we can use.”

“Right, we should get everything as quick as possible, I feel like I’m gonna pass out with this smell.” She pinches her nose, face still wrenching, and I can’t help but laugh.

“You look ridiculous doing that.” I giggle.

“Yeah, whatever. It reeks, I’m surprised you’re not doing the same.” She rolls her eyes, “Now let’s get the crucifixes and holy water first, then we can look for a stake.”

“Right.. yeah good idea.. So where exactly would they be..?”

She raises an eyebrow, “What happened to being the man with the plan?”

“I just.. don’t know much about churches.. Or their layouts..”

“Here, just follow me.” She walks over to a font of sorts.

“There should be bottles.. or containers around here somewhere” She mumbles, lookin around.

“What’s that?”

“Holy water font. I’m surprised there’s anything in it to be honest.. We need to find a container so we can take some of it with us. There might be some up near the altar.”

We begin to walk up the aisle - and I’ve never felt so out of place.

“I’ve don’t think I’ve been in a church for years.” I say, still walking.

“Well, makes sense as you’re not religious.”

“Yeah, I was raised Catholic, but I refused to go to church when I turned 15. I got kicked out for it.”

“Oh.” She went quiet. “I’m so sorry..”

“No don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. My mom was just a bitch, she would’ve kicked me out over any little thing sooner or later, regardless of my faith, or well, lack of it.” I chuckle.

“Still, I just can’t believe someone doing that to their son. She sucks.” She gives me a sympathetic look.

-

“So, this should do as a container,” She leans over, “And this’ll be the crucifix we use. It’s small but it should work.” She hands me the empty container, with her holding the crucifix.

“We’ll have to fill that up, then we can check if he’s outside, or whatever the next bit of your plan was.” We walk back down the aisle up to the entrance. I can’t help but feel stupid next to her now - this was supposed to be my plan - I’m supposed to be getting everything done here, but I’m just following her around like a lost child. I feel stupid standing next to her, but it’s not like I’ve got a choice, is it? I watch her fill up the container with holy water, as the crucifix lays on the ground.

“Is that not disrespectful, to have it just lying there? Or a bad omen or something?”

“Well here, take this then,” She hands me the holy water. “C’mon, we should check if he’s anywhere to be seen out the front.” And with that, we exit the church.

“I can't see anything.” I frown. Surely he'd come looking for us, I mean, I know for a fact he followed me here. My guess is the body was a trap, lure people in and then do God knows what with them. He only seemed to want Bonnie earlier, the fact that he was willing to let me go for her terrified me - for her sake.

“Yeah, me neither.” She agrees, “But y’know, maybe that's not a bad thing. We could just wait it out here, then leave once the sun comes up.”

“With the way that church is? Fuck no. I don't think it smells that way for no reason.” I shudder.

“I'm sure you can deal with a bad smell for a bit, I know it was awful and smelt like death itself but we'll live for a few hours.”

“I don't think you understand, that was literally the smell of corpses, Bonnie.”

“Oh.. so you weren't joking.. I thought that was just hyperbole- Wait how the fuck do you know that?”

The noise of rustling from earlier cuts her off. I shush her, and she raises an eyebrow at me in response.

“That has to be him. Let's go, keep quiet so we can sneak up.”

“Okay.” We take a step forward, but I stop her quickly.

“Here, take this.” I take off my rosary and hand it to her.

“Why'd you have this? Thought you were a non believer.” She joked.

“I took it from the hospital before we left.. I uhm, had a feeling.” I sound insane.

“I think it's why his hypnosis didn't work on me earlier. This way you can pretend to be hypnotized and distract him, and I'll use the crucifix and Holy water on him.”

“Yeah okay that works.” She nods. We continue walking down the steps, and I stay back. She turns to look at me and I mouth, “Keep going. I have a plan, I promise. Just pretend to be really into him.” She gives me a confused look, but continues walking. Soon enough, she's at the gates. I stoop behind a grave, and can hear the sound of flapping above me.

Perfect.

-

“Hello again miss.” He's walked up to her as she's standing right besides the church’s gates. I'm honestly surprised he's willing to get this close to somewhere this sacred. Then again, I'm surprised I'm here too. I can faintly see a smile form on Bonnie’s face, and it’s.. well convincing enough. Though I doubt some horny, hungry vampire is well versed in human emotions and how to recognize them. Or differentiate real from fake.

“Hello sir, do I know you?” Her voice sounds like a child’s, barely audible from where I am. I see a grin form on his face.

Ew.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone, especially not this late y’know,” He begins to take her hand, “Let’s go home.” I can see his face clearer as he begins to turn, a look of lust plastered across it, as it glows in the moonlight.

Makes me feel sick.

So sick.

Once his back is turned, I begin to creep up on him. I contemplate just dragging him into the church’s grounds and then just taking him out, but I doubt I have the strength to do that. I’ll die trying. He takes another step, and I open the container of Holy water. If I can just pour it on him it should-

I feel something sharp on my wrist, and as if in slow motion, I watch the water spill.

Fuck.

“You didn’t think you were subtle, did you?” He steps towards me, letting go of Bonnie’s hand in the process. He laughs lowly. “Do you not think I’ve encountered fools like you, who think they’d ever even stand a chance against me?” He comes closer again.

“What, do you think you’re special?” He laughs, “You think you’re smart for coming to the same building where dozens have died before you? What do you take me for,” He whispers in my ear now.

“An idiot?”

My grip around the crucifix behind my back tightens.

It’s now or never.

With every ounce of strength in me, I push the crucifix into his chest.

He doesn’t react at all.

Not one bit.

“Silly boy.” He grins, “You need to believe in something other than yourself for that to work.”

He pushes me over, and I feel the thorns prick my skin.

“I’ve always found it funny, the idea of faith.”

I’m dead.

“The way you humans like to worship something that isn’t real. Something you made up, for your sanity’s sake.” He mocks.

“It’s funny to me, how I was always told that I was the crazy one. For refusing to believe in an idealized fantasy.” His face grows dark, his voice angrier now.

“I was ruined. All because of a collection of stories in a book behind “God’s” name.” His eyes go blank.

“I was ruined for nothing.”

He leans over me, looking over at the discarded crucifix and smiling.

“And now,” He pauses, “It’s your turn.”

His hand sweeps to my face, and I feel his nails slash against my cheek. My eyes begin to water, and I feel the blood come running down my cheek.

I’m going to die here, aren’t I?

“Please, just let me go.” I plead. “Find someone else, anyone else. Just let us go. Please.” I try to get on my feet, but he kicks me in the knees before I get the chance.”

“You’re even more pathetic than I thought. Trying to help someone else when you can’t even get on your own two feet.” I cough, seeing the blood on my hands. “And to think you could’ve been safe, if you weren’t so hung up on your little savior complex. It’s sad, really.” He kicks me again, as I keel over. “I wish I could say I was sorry but,” I feel a sharp pain in my foot. “At the end of the day, you’re just another useless pile of flesh and bones. That’s all you’ll ever be.”

All I can think of is how he’s.. right. He’s got a point. My whole life has been nothing but hospitals and failed attempts at starting over. I haven’t achieved much, have I? It’s sad and pitiful but true. That’s what hurts the most. The fact that he’s right. The fact that everyone’s always right about me.

Maybe I should just accept my destiny. Accept this is all I’ll ever be. This is how I-

His body drops.

His body just

dropped?

He makes a choking sound, and I see the stake pierce through his heart.

Bonnie.

“You stupid little- I thought I had you-” He splutters.

She knocks him over, pinning him to the ground. I stumble to my feet and she helps pull me up.

“Asshole.” She spits. “Here, make sure he’s kept face down.”

She pulls out a sword and signals for me to move aside, and I look down to his limp body for one last time. He’s muttering incoherent nonsense, I wish I could make it out.

He splutters one final time, and he’s gone.

“We’ll have to burn the head, just for safety measures-” I cut her off with a hug.

“Thank you,” I mutter into her shoulder, “I thought I was going to die.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Her expression softens, “He can’t hurt anyone now. We’re safe.”

I nod, and she pulls away. She takes out a box of matches, lighting one and setting his head aflame.

“We won’t have to worry about him anymore.” She sighs, as his head burns.

“I wonder what he was like, before he turned into a monster.”

“Probably just as bad. Human or not, he was a mistake from the start.” I remember what he said to me earlier. How cruel words can be.

“Monsters aren’t born Clyde,” She exhales, “They’re made.”

We simply watch his head turn to ashes in silence. But it’s not awkward this time. It’s just silent.

“It can’t be long till dawn now,” She states. “We can just wait it out till the sun comes up.”

“Yeah.” I nod, and we head back to the graves.

“I know I uhm.. kind of exploded on you earlier for what happened in that pub and all. But thank you for that. I know you didn’t mean for any of that to happen.” She says shyly.

“I’m sorry for that too. I should’ve been more mindful, really. You should’ve seen his face though, it was hilarious. Looked like someone had picked apart his ego piece by piece.”

“Wish I could’ve seen that.” She giggles.

We talk till the night turns to day, with her head laying on my shoulder.

Y’know what?

I think I’ll be okay.

I think we’ll be okay.

[spurgie-cousin]

I have fundie fatigue. I used to be so invested in what the Duggars and some others were doing. The Josh trial and conviction took the wind out of my sails. It used to be like “Ha ha look what these wackos are doing!” But Josh and the Shiny Happy People documentary put into sharp focus how fundamentalism hurts and continues to hurt people. It makes it so that I can barely muster up any enthusiasm for a courtship, a wedding, the birth of yet another baby. I wonder if the Jill Duggar book will really examine what happened or if it will be a soggy cereal retelling of events like Jinger’s book.

I am totally with you and I think a lot of others are too. I'll always be interested in America's relationship with Christianity and the prominent people in that universe, but I find it rrrreeeeeaaaaaaallllllllyyyyyyy hard to give a fuck about these people's life milestones lately. At least in a neutral, not immediately critical way like I've been able to in the past lol.

I think for me it was everything you've mentioned and then also just how silent they all were about it, especially with the documentary, when ex-members of their organization were risking a lot to come out and talk about it. And a lot of that silence I think has to do with the fact that, even if they don't identify with the IBLP anymore, they still hold some similar beliefs to that organization and don't want that found out. I guess it was easier to give them the benefit of the doubt in that area before and feel more optimistic about them when I wasn't so sure they still sucked so much. Jill R might be my one exception because I've always known she sucked and never been able to treat her neutrally lol.

That and the fact that women and queer people in this country have been having a hell of a time trying to combat conservative political bullshit and are losing rights left and right because of it. And you just know every single one of these bozos votes in support of those values (assuming all the women are allowed to vote) which just puts a really bad taste in my mouth as far as giving a shit about what's happening in their highly curated lives.

But yea I'm sure you all have noticed that I check their personal socials a lot less and it's just because I can only tolerate them in small doses lately. And I kind of don't give a shit what their baby count is anymore, I wish they'd just stop having them.

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 9, Number 4

Photo of Angel Olsen by Luke Rogers

Dust is everywhere these days, but that’s a good thing.  April may be the cruelest month, but it’s also when the release calendar swings into full gear and local concert announcements proliferate.  We’ve made it through the long dark void.  It’s time for beers outside and portable speakers.  What are we blasting?  Oh, lots of things.  Australian punks and Michigan rappers, German death metalists and French composers, piano deconstructers and freaking Arto Lindsay.  This month’s contributors include Jennifer Kelly, Ray Garraty, Jonathan Shaw, Bill Meyer, Tim Clarke, Ian Mathers, Patrick Masterson and Jim Marks.

Blowers — Blown Again (Chaputa!/Spooky)

Blown Again LP by BLOWERS

“Wipe My Ass” materialized in my inbox on a slow day. It came all the way from Australia with blunt force scatological humor, and yeah, I clicked on the link. Why not? It’s dead brute simple, this song, starting with a girl (also the drummer) yelling out the title phrase, and picking up first a buzzsaw guitar lick and later, the somewhat wistful, surprisingly hooky chorus of “I just want somebody…to wipe my ass.”  These songs are all raging ID and very little super-ego. “Shut the Fuck Up” is catchy as hell, in the vein of Jay Reatard’s late-career, alternative-universe hits, and “Let’s Age Disgracefully” aims a firehose of guitar nose straight at the speakers, so that you have to step back a little bit. Leonard Cohen, it’s not, but if you like giddy, joke-y, irrepressible garage punk from people who can barely play their instruments, well, prepare to get blown.

Jennifer Kelly

Cellow — Ghetto Takeover (Jugg$treet)

There is literally no information on who this guy Cellow is, and this EP won’t change the situation. In a dozen of years we will be just saying “Oh, remember that dude that did a little tape with Rio Da Yung Og?” It looks like Cellow took a deal Rio was offering before he got locked up — to record an EP with an artist for $50k — but Ghetto Takeover didn’t surface until now. After 20 listens, hardly a line written by Cellow stays in your memory, possibly due to his total lack of charisma. Rio Da Yung Og completely steals the show here, on all the tracks he’s featured, and he’s in a full ignorance mode: “Fuck Obama and I ain't vote for Trump neither \ Stupid-ass white boys, Butthead and Beavis.” It’s the Flint MC who’s taking over Ghetto Takeover, not Cellow.

Ray Garraty

Ch’Ahom — Camazotz Cult (Sentient Ruin Laboratories)

Camazotz Cult by CH'AHOM

Ahead of a new LP from German black/death band Ch’Ahom, the sharp-eared freaks at Sentient Ruin Laboratories are releasing this compilation LP, and they’ve done us a solid. Camazotz Cult is as confounding and queasy as it is unpleasantly intense, precisely the sort of thing some of us look for in underground metal. What might possess a bunch of young German dudes to disappear into the mythos of a Pre-Columbian bat god, to the extent that they are compelled to form a band to write and record songs about it? This reviewer can’t shed any light on that—and likely the reasons should remain shrouded in dank, noisome darkness. If the denizens of TikTok and Telegram are alerted to the existence of the band, the ethno-purity police will show up to lodge their complaints: some will wring hands over cultural appropriation, others in black metal circles will bum out over the idea of Northern European kids digging on gods from the Global South. So goes our contemporary conjuncture. Meanwhile, songs like “Raid of the Tzitzimime” and “Noh Ek” churn and burn. To add to the cultural confusion, Ch’Ahom have covered a few tunes by Danish wackos Sadogoat, who went on to release more music under the even more inspired name Sadomator; Ch’Ahom’s rendition of “Female Goat Perversion” is as awful as you might expect, and it’s also pretty great. For sure, it’s the right soundtrack for 2023’s latest iteration of our global shitshow. Release the bat god, please.

Jonathan Shaw

Dippers — Looking for a Sphere (Goner/Tenth Court)

Looking for a Sphere by Dippers

The Melbourne garage punk rippers known as Thigh Master made two taut and scrappy full-lengths before ending their run. Now, a couple of years later, the two principals Matthew Ford and Innez Tulloch are back under a new name, Dippers, and a greatly altered sound. Looking for a Sphere, along with the single “Tightening the Tangles” make a case for fractious jangle but also psychedelic dreaming. Dippers do both. The single, out about a month ago, hews closer to the Thigh Master template with scratchy tunefulness, jabbing guitars and a noodle-y meander of keyboards. On the Sphere EP, however, even the relative bangers are slower, sweeter and edging into a gritty variety of twee. “Mazing,” the lead-off cut, is arch and witty like the Monochrome Set, jaggedly surreal like certain Pollard songs. It cuts and slashes and tootles in a sleepy-eyed way, in line with what Terry has been up to over the last several albums. “Drift Space” is even more stretched and blissed out, with its widely space guitar chords, its long shudders of tambourine and its languid psychedelic choruses (“Inwardly imploding, the pressure inside will not worry me, turned off the air, I floated out there, then turned off the screen.”) The two instrumental tracks are the surprise however, built of long expanding synthesizer tones and harpsichord like natterings; they extend in every limpid direction from a still center. But if Mikey Young can dabble in ambient electronics—and he can—then why not Dippers? Garage punk is so much more interesting when it brings in ideas from outside.

Jennifer Kelly

Bruno Duplant — Insondables Humeurs (Granny)

Insondables Humeurs by Bruno Duplant

Bruno Duplant made nine albums in 2022, so pardon me for not getting around to writing about this one until now. Mind you, my tardiness does not mean that you should not listen. This album is part of a recent series of longform pieces on which the French composer and occasional instrumentalist has taken on the full-time task of performance. Insondables Humeurs earns its title, which translates as Unfathomable Moods. Its two tracks loom and stretch, with long harmonium drones taking plenty of time to lure the listener into a state that feels at once enveloping and uneasy. Electronic treatments, piano notes, and arhythmic percussion intrude periodically, amping up the apprehension. This is the final installment of a trilogy of sonically disparate but similarly disposed efforts; one gets the feeling that Duplant is deeply concerned about the ongoing state of things. The resulting sounds cannot be denied.

Bill Meyer

Exploding Corpse Action — Interdimensional Annihilation: Complete Transmissions 1995-1997 (Armageddon)

Inter-Dimensional Annihilation: Complete Transmissions 1995-1997 by Exploding Corpse Action

The redistribution of heavy music’s extensive back-catalog of hyper-obscure, underground releases continues apace, and sometimes one wonders about the intent. Filling in untold histories, or filling hipster collectors’ record bins? Creating archival records, or “deluxe edition” records as pricey commodities? Interdimensional Annihilation: Complete Transmissions 1995-1997 is a newly marketed collection of the relatively slim output of Albany-based death metal band Exploding Corpse Action, and the record provides a good occasion for thinking on those questions. We’ll stipulate to the excellence of the band’s name, and there’s some fun to be had; tunes like “Light Speed Impact Crater” and “Robotic Surgery Malfunction” are endearingly demented. But do we really need two marginally different takes of “Decompression: Anal Prolapse” in the interest of a “complete” set of recordings? Do we really need this record in the first place, when a quick inspection of the latest sounds on Bandcamp yields any number of death-metal-related experiences imbued with the same sort of goofball depravity? History seems to have been indifferent to the band’s existence, and none of the participants in Exploding Corpse Action went on to make more subculturally significant music. Maybe if you live in Albany, you feel differently about the band’s relative importance, and in that case, I’m sorry — not about the band, but about Albany.

Jonathan Shaw

Grandbrothers — Late Reflections (City Slang)

Late Reflections by Grandbrothers

The concept behind the fourth album by Erol Sarp and Lukas Vogel — the follow-up to 2021’s All the Unknown — is an interesting one: these ten pieces all feature grand piano as their sole sound source, recorded at night in Cologne Cathedral when the building was closed to the public. As expected, there are plenty of moments of quiet, gently reverberating reflection, building into exultant crescendos. However, what’s most surprising — and perhaps most disappointing — is that the piano is often so heavily processed as to render it indistinguishable. When crunchy beats kick in on a track like “Infinite,” one can’t help but wonder why a live kit couldn’t have been substituted instead; it certainly would have sounded more natural and more in-keeping with the album’s sound palette. Nevertheless, it’s often engrossing to follow how the duo’s multi-part compositions unfold.

Tim Clarke

Arto Lindsay — Charivari (Corbett Vs. Dempsey)

Charivari (Black Cross Solo Sessions 7) by Arto Lindsay

Three years is not so long ago. That’s how long ago that locked-down improv fans discovered, during the first Quarantine Concerts on-line festival, that Arto Lindsay had a few things to learn about adjusting the rotation of his cell phone’s video camera. The experience of watching him with a 90 degrees tilt may have obscured what a swell thing he had going, but this album will set you straight. If, like this writer, you have sometimes felt that larger settings dilute Lindsay’s singular integration of guitar noise, samba sway, and social anxiety-stirring provocation, this unaccompanied setting is the neat shot you’ve been waiting for. While occasional loops trick you into thinking that the earth’s rhythms can be trusted, marvelously jagged chunks of guitar noise topple while Lindsay croons and gasps fragments that let you know that you just don’t know. The numerologically inclined should be aware that this album is volume seven of Corbett Vs. Dempsey’s Black Cross Solo Sessions, a series of solo statements that the label commissioned from locked down artists. There are eight in all, each encased in a glossy reproduction of Christopher Wool’s titular cross. Collect ‘em, trade ‘em, but keep your bubble gum sticks away from ‘em. Inspirational lyric: “Resistance yoga.”

Bill Meyer 

Mute Duo — Migrant Flocks (American Dreams)

Migrant Flocks by Mute Duo

Chicago’s Mute Duo refer to their setup (Sam Wagster on pedal steel, Skyler Rowe on drums) as a “sandbox” and their play on Migrant Flocks bears that out. Whether on the flute-assisted (courtesy of Emma Hospelhorn), expansive centerpiece “The Ocean Door,” the harder-charging “Trust Lanes” and “Landmusik” (the latter featuring Doug McCombs and Andrew Scott Young), or the more ethereal ranges of “Moon in the Flood” and the closing “Bisrāma,” the duo refuses to be pigeonholed into what you might guess a pedal-steel-and-drums record might sound like. Some of this is technique (Wagster plays more conventionally guitar-like registers at times, Rowe mostly sticks with brushes), but it’s more the varied emotional and sonic palette they wield so astutely. At times the sound touches on anyone from later-period Earth to “Mogwai Fear Satan” to the Dirty Three, but always with a quality that marks Mute Duo as their own thing, and worth watching.

Ian Mathers

Paal Nilssen-Love Circus — Pairs of Three (PNL)

Pairs of Three by Paal Nilssen-Love Circus

The Norwegian drummer and bandleader Paal Nilssen-Love has lived a pretty international life. That has influenced his choice of associates — he’s played with musicians from the USA, Japan, Ethiopia, Brazil and all around Europe — and the distances he has traveled in order to play with them. This all changed when COVID came around, and he found himself confined within his home country’s borders, but improvisation is just another way of saying you’re good at solving problems. The members of Nilsen-Love’s Circus, who convened to record this album in the summer of 2021, all live in Scandinavia, but between them they can dial up any corner of the world in a second. The music changes by the second, jumping from accordion-led chanson to agit-prop punk to timbral improv, while singer Juliana Venter similarly leaps from tongue to tongue, with digressions into back of the throat, hackle-raising extended techniques. This music is a world unto itself, full of possibility.

Bill Meyer

Nondi_ — Flood City Trax (Planet Mu)

Flood City Trax by Nondi_

Best I can find, Tatiana Triplin has been releasing music since 2014, but Flood City Trax is her first away from the netlabel she runs, HRR, as well as her first for Planet Mu (not a bad place to greet a broader audience). The years of juke, footwork and techno intake make themselves felt across this album, which trips all over itself rhythms-wise but, more than anything to me, recalls the dreamily rough, lower-fidelity beats of Actress. Triplin says this album is inspired by the moods of her hometown of Johnstown, Penn., a place (in)famous for its flooding, and suggesting the music doesn’t carry with it some of that water weight, conscious or otherwise, would be misleading. More tangible than vaporwave but less fully submerged than Drexciya, Nondi_’s most prominent, cohesive album statement is also one of the year’s most excitingly pleasant surprises in the realm of electronic music.

Patrick Masterson 

Angel Olsen — Forever Means EP (Jagjaguwar)

Forever Means by Angel Olsen

For all of the ambition and willingness to push further stylistically that Angel Olsen has exhibited in the last half a decade, it’s clear she’s never lost sight of her greatest strengths: deftly sensitive songwriting and that otherworldly voice. Dipping her toes into the swollen decadence of All Mirrors or the ‘80s synthpop cosplay of Aisles remain diversions from her more traveled roads beaten with a guitar and a mic that can handle her pipes. The Olsen I fell in love with was Burn Your Fire for No Witness, and she seems to have come back around on that more restrained swagger lately with the All Mirrors reworkings Whole New Mess, last year’s excellent, settling Big Time and, now, leftovers from those sessions in the form of Forever Means. The sax and organ solos that run out of gas on “Nothing’s Free” and the afterthought of a trumpet on “Time Bandits” feel like failed flourishes, so you can see why she dropped them, but the title track is as good as she gets and none of these four tracks is obviously lacking for quality. No matter how much change she goes through — and heaven knows she’s had plenty of that recently — her gifts shine brightest when there’s less to hide them behind. The center continues to hold.

Patrick Masterson

ShaunMusiq, Ftears & Xduppy — “Bhebha (Feat. Myztro, Mellow & Sleazy, QuayR Musiq & Matuteboy)” (Kgaday)

The reigning sound of South Africa has been amapiano for several years now, and understandably so: Its relaxed rhythmic pace, airy melodies and “the pianos” from which the genre derives its name allow for plenty of creative space. One name taking recent advantage of the style is ShaunMusiq, who’s had a small but solid stream of singles since 2021’s SkrrThang II and here heads up a crew remixing a song that’s been blowing out cheap car subs and irritating parents around Pretoria since 2005. It won’t surprise you to learn this blew up via TikTok and that’s probably the impetus for this official video, which belatedly arrives a month out from the single’s release, but what might surprise you is how heavy that bass rolls as the three protagonists pass sleepy bars off to one another in the Bantu Tsonga language. Heavier still is just how committed this video is: From the dancers to the decked out Toyota Hiace, nothing’s left on the table. Get in, loser: We’re going to whatever party puts this on loudest.

Patrick Masterson

Silver Moth — Black Bay (Bella Union)

Black Bay by Silver Moth

The band Silver Moth is a pandemic-era coming together of Stuart Braithwaite (Mogwai) and his wife, singer-songwriter Elisabeth Elektra; singer-songwriter Evi Vine, plus her guitarist Steven Hill and multi-instrumentalist Ben Roberts; Abrasive Trees guitarist Andrew Rochford; and Ash Babb, drummer in Burning House and Academy of the Sun. The seven musicians convened at Black Bay studio on the Isle of Lewis in Scotland for a short stint of writing and recording, and these six songs are the result. Given it was all pulled together in the studio, the coherence is impressive, especially on opener “Henry,” which sounds like Mogwai fronted by Beth Gibbons, and “Mother Tongue,” which has the airy, exploratory feel of Meg Baird. The second half of the record is dominated by the 15-minute “Hello Doom” (a very Mogwai song title), which sounds exactly as you might imagine, searing fuzz guitar and all. Though occasionally lacking in its own distinct personality, there’s definitely sufficient chemistry on Black Bay for further Silver Moth music if the band has the time and inclination.

Tim Clarke 

Skooly — “08 Wayne” (The Real U)

Lil Wayne recently passed through Chicago on tour, and reports from the evening have it that he was rapping songs here he hadn’t touched in years (if ever). For hip-hop fans who’ve struggled with the genre’s post-Drake decentralization, it was a nice reminder of simpler times when it was easy to tell who was on top — and who knows, maybe Weezy’s “I’m Me” tour was the impetus for Kazarion Fowler’s latest single, too. The former Rich Kidz member would’ve turned 14 in 2008, so while more wizened heads might have it that Wayne’s peak was a year or two earlier, Skooly’s of the age to speak with authority that in high school hallways, there was no doubting Wayne’s imperial phase was in full effect by the year in question. Skooly doesn’t look to ape that level of language-busting dexterity, instead opting for a confident sing-song lilt with an irresistible chorus that wraps on “Cold propane / This shit is dope cocaine / I feel like ‘08 Wayne” while Buddah Bless tinkles his way across the ivories and adds just a touch of funked up synthesizer for color. In every respect, this is one to feel good about.

Patrick Masterson

Sounding Society — Homecoming Medley or Society Into Sound (Gotta Let It Out)

HOMECOMING MEDLEY or SOCIETY INTO SOUND by SOUNDING SOCIETY

Man, will somebody please burp the matrix? There’s a glitch in the circuits. How else might one explain this anomaly? The cover, which is proudly proclaimed to be AI-generated, looks like the glossy cover of a 1980s-vintage sci-fi paperback. And the sounds? At first, the music sounds like a gear-inclusive (i.e., digital and analog) retro take on New Age-tinged keyboard soundtrackery. But as the music progresses, some non-ironic improvisational chops steer the music on a less predictable, if still essentially groovy, course. Several explorational interludes and one video game parlor breakdown later, you’re left wondering just what went down. Explanation — drummer-bandleader Tomo Jacobson spends much of his time in more straight-faced, jazz-oriented settings. It would seem that you can take the jazz man out of the club, but you can’t take the creative restlessness out of his heart.

Bill Meyer

Erik Sowa — Cedar Lake Recordings Vol. 1 (Sliptoh)

Cedar Lake Recordings Vol .1 by Erik Sowa

Chicagoans will recognize Eric Sowa as a drummer who pops up in both roots and improv contexts, to make these recordings, he headed to an off-the-grid location in northern Minnesota. No electricity? No problem, he just humped a car battery to power the recording gear, along with his drums, stringed instruments and bellows-driven organ. All that trouble would be for naught if it didn’t help capture the vibe, but Sowa has gotten it right. One supposes that it took considerable concentration to self-record a virtual ensemble that feels so naturally loose. Each tune represents a modest amount of rustic headspace, and then makes way for the next.

Bill Meyer 

Dick Stusso — S.P. (Hardly Art)

S.P. by Dick Stusso

Dick Stusso distorts 1970s guitar rock through a prism, twisting blues-rock riffs into haunted litanies. His big hollowed out baritone floats elegantly through post-Waits-ian junk shop arrangements, posing, preening, italicizing every line. You can hear faint sirens through the piano bar chords of “Self Reflection (Deep).” The title screams sarcasm, but Stusso plays it relatively straight. It’s a AOR ballad turning slightly green at the edges, blown out with ghostly “woo-woo” counterparts and ending with a curdled R&B solo vocal that sounds like Merry Clayton but broken and harsh. I should mention that that’s Grace Cooper of the Sandwitches, one of the reigning queens of West Coast lofi and a long-time collaborator with Stusso. His father, the jazz saxophonist Marc Russo (Stusso’s real name is Nic Russo), makes an appearance in “Garbagedump #1,” a sloppy-drunk cakewalk treading unsteadily on second-hand-shop boogie. These 18 songs are brief but vividly imagined, throwing up film noir sound-stage vistas that are convincing unless you look at them from the side.

Jennifer Kelly

Harry Taussig — 80 (Tompkins Square)

80 by Harry Taussig

Harry Taussig is Takoma school royalty. His first recordings appeared on John Fahey’s celebrated Takoma Park record label, and his most recent have been for Tompkins Square, beginning with tracks on the seminal Imaginational Anthem series. His small catalog includes three releases over the past 10 years, the name of this one commemorating his 80th birthday. The compositions, played unaccompanied and without overdubbing on six- and 12-string acoustic guitar and five-string banjo, tend to bear titles suggestive of classical music (which Taussig cites as a primary influence in the liner notes), such as “Etude for in G Major #7.” Most have an improvisational feel, though comparison of alternate takes indicates that they are constructed with care. All three instruments sound open-tuned, as the five-string banjo usually is and as is common in the Takoma school style. Taussig has never been flashy, and his deliberate and at times hesitant approach has helped him to age somewhat more gracefully as a player than Fahey did. There is a craggy beauty to 80 well represented by the brooding photograph on the cover. Here’s hoping an 85 and a 90 will be forthcoming.

Jim Marks 

Unlearn and MP Shaw—Secret Listener (Farallon)

Secret Listener by Unlearn & MP Shaw

Bright rounded bloops of synthetic sound bob in gentle syncopation, in the uncanny valley’s muted version of funk. Two Seattle-born, SF-based electronic artists—Matthew Shaw and James Key—made this disc during the lockdown casting dystopic dread into billow-y, unearthly shadows on the wall. Thus, their “Dusting the Astral Plane” grooves in a well-cushioned, unconfrontational way; picture an actual robot doing the robot, but slowly and bathed in magic hour twilight. Two “TLR” cuts serve as whooshing, enveloping meditation breaks, the soft clarity of keyboards surging then subsuming into ambient hiss. “Article One” lists woozily on blotty smudges of synth sound, the sharp click of rhythm clattering through. All of these cuts drift and loom, the dance beats wrapped in gauzy, indeterminant tone-washes. It’s more of a pencil drumming, space-staring, transcendental vibe than anything hedonistic or physical, but very nice all the same.

Jennifer Kelly

Youniss — White Space (Viernulvier)

So what exactly distinguishes a very short album from an EP? Formal considerations like number of tracks don’t really work, and ultimately it’s just going to come down to the feel of the thing. In White Space’s case, the second album from Antwerp-based Youniss holds together strongly enough as a significant statement that neither the 20-minute runtime nor the almost beat tape-esque patchwork of these ten tracks are drawbacks. Whether going full aggro (particularly on the redlined, snapped-off “Arms Bent Back”), more atmospheric on the instrumentals “Negative Space” and “Walad,” or fully embracing a melancholy of dislocation on “SO SLOW” and “Sinking,” White Space packs a lot of sonic texture and grappling with serious issues (race, perspective, artistry, context) in a brief space. All that and it’ll consistently get your head nodding? That’s an album.

Ian Mathers

[cassatine]

hello hello beautiful internet people here i be again… to stay, hopefully, but who knows. got kinda overwhelmed by life, feat., among other things:

the neverending spring cleaning of death (i did not see my floor for like a month, it was like a very intense game of the floor is lava but the lava was mostly books)

the fair season of hell (working every weekend for peanuts is deeply uncool, for the record, especially since turns out i am a magnet for every insane conspirationist and "science proves god exists" type, idk what the fuck is up this year but every time i'm reading during the lull hours, be it Bensaïd, Bullough, Guérin, Graeber, or who the fuck ever, some dude or another just has to start reccing full-on wackos and also mansplaining politics and finances and society and vaccines. i'm thinking about swearing off reading nonfiction in public)

me fucking up my wrist and my knee fucking me up (i'm still wearing a brace and also i have to do reeducation; at least it isn't two braces anymore)

me dealing with the post-smoking weight gain (dealing badly, we don't talk about it)

the job agency coming for my ass with a vengeance (i am now incorporated! technically it's in progress, whatever. i had to fill papers. so much paperwork. i guess i am now an entrepeneur, a word that gives me rashes)

Lady Justice coming for our asses with a vengeance (the pigs played great escape in the neighbour's fields one too many time, let us say)

the local crafters' shop coming for my ass with an offer (okay that's excellent but for the timing)

also feat. two anniversaries, that of my reaching Jesus' age, and that of my reaching one whole ass year without smoking or drugs. my present was an extremely late showing of gotg3. i asked for it and thus prompted a month or so of jokes about my going to see a marvel movie, har har har. by being extremely not online for the last month+, i managed to avoid any and all spoilers, which was good excepted for the part where i was not emotionally ready, like, at all.

also new: i put up a huge poster of Louise Michel, atop barricades, with a red flag that says "vive la Commune," on one of my walls, which isn't exactly worth reporting about but is very cool nonetheless. of such small things is joy made etc etc.

[thepaintedlady00]

Series Candidate #2: Resident Evil Village fandom

A Sheep In Wolves Clothes

Heisenberg/OC (Amelia) pairing. About 16 chapters planned (can change). It'll have smut, lots of gore and violence, enemies to lovers, smut, angst and so on. The story will start before the events of the game but eventually catch up. The ending will not align with the canon events.

He was fuming as he stormed across the bridge where he knew Duke would be selling his overpriced shit to the gullible little sheep in the village. The whole walk he'd been smashing everything that got in his way. Why the fuck can't shit just go smoothly for once?! He thought angrily, thinking back to the project that had quite literally exploded a few minutes ago in his factory. The wasted parts. The clean up. Such bullshit. He needed new parts, quickly, and that meant he had to drag himself out of the factory and into the village again.

Usually he'd wait for the Duke's scheduled deliveries, they were fairly consistent around every two weeks, but lately he'd been burning through his parts and damaging his machines beyond what he could fix with scrap. Part of it was his rush to finish or to be at least prepared and the other was his temper. He'd always had a short fuse, but lately he'd been absolutely explosive at the drop of a hat. If that tall bitch and Miranda would just keep their shit to themselves I'd have more time! 

Flicking his fingers the gate slammed open, stone grating against metal echoing in the small courtyard. The Duke sat in his usual spot and thankfully the area was empty. This perked his mood up just a bit, the last thing he wanted was to play buddy with the dumb ass villagers. He approached the wagon with haste. The Duke looked pleased to see him, more so than usual. "Why, Lord Heisenberg! It is an honor to have you visit! But I'm afraid I won't have your usual delivery until next week."

"Didn't come for my usual. I need these parts, if you got them," he said, handing the large man the paper with his needs scribbled hastily on it.

"I see," the Duke said. "Give me one moment, I'll see what I have in stock."

He pulled a cigar from his pocket. "Whatever, just try to be quick. Don't want any of these village wackos seeing me."

Just as he was about to pull out his lighter he heard a second voice. Softer, feminine. Without a word to Duke he stepped around the wagon and found something he hadn't expected. A girl, short with long red hair that looked like rusted metal and soft looking freckled skin. She spoke in hushed whispers as she brushed through the hair of the Dukes horse with a gentleness that caused something to burn in his chest. 

Who the fuck was this? She wasn't a villager, at least he didn't think she was. He hadn't been around the people in a while, but he was certain he'd have noticed her if she were one of them. An outsider maybe? But that also didn't add up, all outsiders were sold out to Mother Miranda as soon as they set foot in the village. She'd be dead by now if she didn't somehow start here.

Lost in thought he didn't notice her turn until he felt her run straight into his chest, her weight was no more than a gentle push. Her scent swirled around him, sweet and earthy. She staggered back, basket dropping to the ground and her almost ending up on her ass. Once she found her footing she looked up at him, eyes burning with rage. Anyone else would have recognized him and spiraled into pathetic apologies, but her glare stayed firm and the rage seemed to grow as she stepped around him.

"Excuse me." The venom in her voice brought a surprised smile to his lips. Definitely not just another village sheep.

On the ground in front of him the basket lay abandoned. He stuffed his unlit cigar between his lips and grabbed it, stepping back out into the open space and whistling loudly. He resisted the urge to laugh when she jumped and whirled around. Her angry eyes instantly went to the basket he now held out to her. "You dropped your basket."

For a moment she hesitated and Heisenberg wished he could hear her thoughts as he watched her steel herself into walking forward and snatching it out of his loose grip. "Thanks."

He chuckled and watched her walk away, haphazardly pulling her hood up. Turning to the Duke, who watched the interaction with a smirk, he pulled the lighter from his pocket and lit his cigar, taking in a long deep drag before exhaling the smoke. "Who was that?"

"You know my business operates on a system of mutual trust and ambiguity, Lord Heisenberg. If I simply handed out all my customers' information I'd be out of business, run out of town even!"

"Spare me the theatrics," he replied, letting the rest of his lei float up into the air between them. The Duke's eyes glistened. "Just want her name."

***

The sky had just begun to fill with the orange hue of the setting sun when I'd gotten home. The smoke from the chimney told me that Boian had finished his work and started dinner inside and the sight of twenty potted plants, a newly built raised garden bed and new pile of firewood confirmed it. I rolled my eyes and shut the gate as I made my way toward the house, Stubborn old man. By the way his coughing echoed through the door I knew he'd exhausted himself more than he'd meant to.

The cabin was warm against my slightly chilled skin as I entered, discarding the basket onto the table and taking my shawl off. Boian sifted through the basket quietly and put things away. "How was the walk?"

"Refreshing," I replied, kicking my shoes off by the door.

"And the villagers?"

"The same."

He groaned and glanced back at me. "No one mysteriously trip and fall?"

"No, I told you I wasn't gonna push anyone!" I laughed moving beside him to wash my hands.

"I thought you'd change your mind once they started with their bullshit."

"What's cooking old man?"

"The last of our venison and a modest amount of the potatoes," he answered, stirring the pot. "Soup."

I nodded, wiping my hands off and getting the bowls and silverware from the cupboard. I set the bowls down beside him and moved the silverware to the table. "You got a lot done while I was gone."

"Of course I did, you weren't hovering over me every ten seconds!" He teased me.

Rolling my eyes I sat down in my chair and watched him add the final spices to the pot. "I wasn't there to hover and you overdid it, again. You're not as invincible as you used to be old man… You gotta start slowing down a little."

He sighed, laddeling the soup into the bowls and handing them to me to set down as he got situated. "I know, I know. It's hard for me to sit still, Fetita but I will try to take things easier… For your sake."

I smiled. "Thanks, I kinda wanna keep you around for a while."

"You're not gonna get rid of me anytime soon. Now eat, we have a lot of work to do tomorrow if you're gonna be taking the reins."

We ate mostly in silence, but it was never uncomfortable. We just knew each other well enough I guess. After we cleaned our bowls and locked everything up for the night I retired to my room, lounging on the bed reading when Boian knocked on the door. "Come in."

He emerged slowly, a little wooden box in his hand, and sat down beside me on the bed. "I've been thinking."

"That's dangerous," I teased.

"You're right about me getting older," he continued. "I ain't gonna be around forever to keep you safe. So, I think it's time you had this."

He set the box in my hands and watched with a small frown as I opened it. Inside was Boians hunting knife, his favorite one with the short blade,  brass knuckles welded into the hilt and the tiny carving, Clara, on the bottom. I looked up at him, the realization of what this meant hitting me. "I'll take good care of it."

"I know you will, my hope is it'll take good care of you too." He placed his hand over mine. "I've told you hundreds of times that finding you saved me. My daughter, Clara, was no older than you were when you came here when the villagers and Mother Miranda took her. I'd been away on a hunt, and when I came back she was gone. Tore that damn village apart to find her, but I was too late… Don't know what they did to her, still don't really care, all I knew was that she was gone and I had nothing left."

"That was when you built the cabin, wasn't it?" I asked softly as I squeezed his hand.

"Yeah, left that village as fast as I could, but not before telling them all to go to hell. Built this place and then not long after I was out in the woods on another hunting trip when I stumbled across you, walking barefoot in the snow all cut up and freezing. Took you in, raised you, and hopefully I taught you enough that you'll be the one to get outta here." He looked at me and smiled sadly. "You are as much my daughter as Clara was, I hope you know that Amelia."

"I do." I answered by wiping away a stray tear. "And you're as much my dad as the one I had before."

He kissed my hand and quickly stood, clearing his throat. "I love you, Fetita."

"I love you too, old man."

"Get some sleep." He said in the doorway. "I ain't gonna go easy on ya from now on."

"Of course you won't," I grumbled sarcastically. "Goodnight Boian."

[tokkias]

Mirajane for the character ask game

send me a character . always open

Why I like them i love how she's this sweet, polite girl on the surface, but underneath she's fucking wacko crazy sadistic demon (literally), but the thing that brings that side of her out is her family and how much she cares for them

Why I don’t sometimes she's a little mean to lucy. girlie she is already going through it please stop gaslighting her in the volume extras.

Favorite episode/scene the episode in phantom lord where she reveals her satan soul for the first time

Favorite line does this count

Favorite outfit satan soul sitri!

OTP erzajane

Brotp probably also erzajane lol

Head Canon i can only come up with one headcanon per side character per business day so please refer to this post.

Unpopular opinion i don't think there are many popular opinions on mira and i don't think i have many opinions about her in general? maybe its that i prefer how she looks with her bangs down? i get that it's probably meant to differentiate her from the person she was before lisanna died, but i do like the bangs on her.

A wish another satan soul please

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen maybe it's just bc it's late i don't really think i have one of these for her?

[ithisatanytime]

Michael Jackson - They Don’t Care About Us (Brazil Version) (Official Vi...

 recently watched a snippet of a vladtv interview with the recently deceased aaron carter, who famously was friends with micheal jackson. he said after one occasion hanging out with micheal after he got back to his hotel room, he was met with FBI agents who were asking leading questions about the time he spent with micheal jackson and his mentally ill mother was pressuring him to make accusations against him presumably for lawsuit money.

  micheal jackson shot two separate versions of this music video, one takes place in a prison and this one he goes to brazil, its significant that he made two professional quality music videos for the same song and its also significant that he traveled to south america to shoot the second.

  the lyrics “kick me kike me dont you black or white me, jew me, sue me, everybody do me” were very controversial at the time and ive shared on this blog a news report where he came under fire for singing the lyrics as he wrote them and refusing to censor himself. ive also posted a video of a secretly recorded phone call in which micheal says “they are leeches” referring to the jews “one day your on top mr popular, and then they take everything, they leave you penniless, the jews do it on purpose”

  now micheal jackson for me growing up in the nineties was “wacko jacko” i was born too late to really know him as a performing artist, for my generation he was a public punching bag, this is one of the most clear cases of character assassination in history, and it was sustained too.

 kanye west also “went crazy” and in 2016 he was hospitalized at the urging of his jewish personal trainer harley pasternack who according to kanye in his drink champs interview “put the crazy narrative out there” and recently kanye shared a screenshot of a text conversation he has where harley clearly threatens him saying basically if you dont talk “ill have you institutionalized and heavily medicated, it will be back to zombieland. visits with the kids just wont be the same”

  Chappelle recently pulled a fast one on america with his SNL monologue because they werent paying attention, they didnt get it. but chappelle has been going off on the jews in somewhat covert way, his story about the pimp was clearly about jews, he had a space jews joke in his recent stand up special and i believe his jokes about jess smollet were alluding to his jewish heritage and i also believe there were was something deeper to his musings on the opiate crisis facing white america in that same standup special. remember at the time i saw it, though he hadnt yet said anything overt about jews i made a long post about how it made me hopeful for an alliance between black/white america against our common adversary but i dismissed it as wishful thinking. chappelle famously “went crazy” and fucked off to africa for a few years, when he came back from africa he went on inside the actors studio and had quite a lot to say about the “crazy” label and its true purpose which is to discredit and silence opponents of the hegemony. norm macdonald also has expressed similar distaste and suspicion about the crazy label even alluding to it being used for that same purpose.

[usamey]

quemstion: does anyone else have Food Hyperfixations?? like- issa hyperfixation. but with Food insteada vidya games or sumn