#i also might have a very (VERY) ambitious thing in the works involving the shroud brothers but you didnt hear it from me

[0rchidm4ntis]

2 more requests to go before I can get back to dia posting wooo!!

[thornfield13713]

Might need to revamp my Georgia backstory ideas, if only because my previous interpretations of how she ended up where she is at the start of the game have all...lacked something, for me. Sorry, we're going to be rehearsing the 'why Georgia's marriage was such a mess' thing.

So, let's do this, one more time.

In this version of events, Sam Adams is bi, but repressed about it, because the disappointing gay dead husband is a very tired trope indeed, and if he'd been gay...actually, their relationship would probably have worked out a lot better for all involved.

So, he and Georgia meet in college. At this point, Georgia isn't a firebrand. She's an ambitious, hustling young law student, who wants to make a living and maybe even a fortune and get ahead. She became radicalised only after a few years as a defence lawyer - in the beginning, she went for defence mostly because it seemed like a quick way to pay off her student loans (of which there were many). Sam was an engineering student at CIT, and they met at a party where they wound up discussing Grognak vs the Silver Shroud in the kitchen until kicking-out time. He came from a conservative military family, but was questioning that now that he was at college, and Georgia - immigrant from a rough part of New York and raised with views that were pretty far left for the place and time they were in even if she wasn't living up to them that well yet - was excitingly different from anything he'd known, but not enough as to be threatening. On Georgia's side, she went for him for...many of the same reasons Buffy Summers went for Riley Finn in college: he seemed a nice, wholesome, clean-cut sort of guy, in contrast with an adolescence and early college years where she'd...mostly gone for the bad boy type, and gotten badly burned doing it. There was an attraction there, even if she sort of had to work at it, and that was good enough for them to start going out.

It probably wouldn't have lasted past Georgia's graduation, if they hadn't had a condom break, and...well, the worst happened. Sam proposed, very determined to do the honourable thing, and Georgia accepted because being an unwed mother in pre-war American society was not great, and nor was legal access to abortion and she had heard enough horror stories about the backstreet option that she didn't want to take the risk. So they duly married and did all that was proper...and very shortly after the wedding, Georgia miscarried. Messily. I mentioned having Shaun was difficult on her, and this was no less so, and medically she probably shouldn't have tried again. Which left them sort of stuck with each other, because divorce was also...not especially favourably looked on, and as Massachusetts didn't introduce no-fault divorce until the '70s in our world, I'm going to go ahead and say that that wasn't a thing for them here.

As it turned out, they were both a lot happier being married when their spouse was a long way away. For Sam, it was psychologically beneficial to think of his girl back home, to have that to cling to as a source of strength, even if, over the years, that image he had of her grew more distant both from Georgia as she was, and from Georgia as she had actually been when they married. It was...as psychologically necessary for him to put a rosier gloss on their relationship as it was for him to try and at least pretend to believe the justifications for the things he was doing in Canada and on the Anchorage campaign. Georgia, meanwhile, enjoyed the practical benefits of being married to a respectable soldier from a military family with a long, proud heritage and at least a few uncles and cousins who'd made it to high rank. (There was a reason they were living comfortable in Sanctuary Hills, which seems to have been a pretty plush area, rather than in a cramped apartment in Concord, after all.) One of which was not being accused of Communist sympathies as she became more radical in her views and connections and her work brought her into conflict with more and more powerful forces - though, of course, that couldn't and didn't protect her forever, and her firm's collapse also meant that she was unofficially blackballed from Boston's legal community. Possibly there was even a little leaning to ensure that - nobody in the extended Adams clan wanted the scandal of Sam's wife being accused of Communist sympathies, particularly not given Sam had been decorated a couple of times during his service, but nobody wanted the scandal of her carrying on with the work that drew those accusations either.

Their years apart essentially radicalised Georgia, but made Sam cleave more closely to orthodoxy and the establishment, because if it was good, then he didn't need to be broken with guilt for what he had been a part of. He had terrible PTSD and nightmares - no amount of self-justification could keep the guilt away for long, and the memory was there whatever happened. Georgia was deeply depressed by the loss of her work and the apparent meaninglessness of all her efforts. They barely spoke to each other, the last few months they were together, and when they did, it was the merest commonplace. Neither was willing to confide in the other, mostly out of guilt - Georgia for having cheated on him a few times while he was away, Sam for the things he had done in Anchorage. They probably couldn't have carried on like that forever, but whatever would have come next, the bombs put an end to it.

[rudra-writes]

E’manafa’s Dream

(This is a short scene involving Dolorous Bear's adventuring party, before the events of Copperbell Mines. It can also be read at my AO3 here.)

It was dusk. Seated around a campfire in the towering forest of the Shroud, was an adventuring party of three people.

They were a miqo’te, a folk with cat-like ears and a tail, a lalafell, a small people gifted with a keen mind, and a roegadyn, a race of giants from the northern isles. The three of them were fast friends who had traveled together for years. Together they had faced many adventures, and seen remarkable sights far and wide.

It was spring, and the Shroud was at the height of its natural beauty. Ferns carpeted the forest floor. Lupines, daisies, and all manner of other wildflowers were in bloom. The setting sun bathed the trees in hues of golden light, while the last of the daytime birds called.

In spite of their beautiful surroundings, E’manafa, the miqo’te, was not at peace.

A pot of soup simmered over the fire. Kikina, the lalafell, was playing a slow melody on a wooden flute. She’d had plenty of time to practice, and had become quite good at it. Across from Kikina, still clad in his armor, sat the roegadyn with his hands folded. His head was tilted downwards, and his eyes were half-closed, but they knew he was listening to Kikina’s song. He was always appreciative of her playing.

The roegadyn’s name was Dolorous Bear. E’manafa guessed he had been named such for the slight, downward turn at the outer corners of his eyes. It afforded him a somewhat sad look, even when he was happy.

He was known to be ambitious. It was his dream that their heroic deeds be remembered through the ages. It was a lofty goal, but one Dolorous made seem obtainable, through rigorous self-dedication and hard work. It was he who had suggested the three of them join forces originally, and he was usually the most proactive in finding new assignments.

E’manafa had, in more than one instance, wondered if his ambition was a trait that came with being so large in size. Perhaps that would make someone braver. But it wasn’t his long-term goals she had taken special notice of, but something more subtle, something only she appeared to see. That was his kindness.

E’manafa hadn’t known many other roegadyn, but Dolorous seemed to her to be a generous man, sparing no expense to make certain she and Kikina were wanting for nothing on the road. He was brave, both in placing himself between the two of them and the dangers they encountered, as well as fully entrusting his life to them.

Perhaps it was inevitable spending so much time together, but the three of them had become like a found family. And that was part of why it was so hard for E’manafa to speak of her feelings. She knew they had a good thing, a precious thing, in the bond of their friendship. The thought of doing or saying something that could change that, gave her great hesitation.

But adventuring was a high-risk occupation. And there was never a guarantee the three of them would always be able to see one another’s faces.

If E’manafa was going to tell Dolorous her feelings, she felt it needed to be soon. She had never been a superstitious person, but she had a lingering premonition that it was something that needed to be done. Or she might regret it.

Kikina finished playing her song. Dolorous had fallen still a statue while she had been playing the flute. Now his eyelids fluttered, and the muscles under his chainmail tensed and relaxed as he stirred.

Kikina raised a brow at him. “It appears, Dolorous, that you found my performance dreadfully unexciting,” she said dryly. “You seemed ready to go into hibernation.”

The roegadyn shook his head, a sardonic smile uplifting the corners of his mouth. “If I was quiet, it was only because I had no wish to disturb our master flutist.”

Kikina nodded. “Indeed. If you had fallen asleep, this flute would have made an entirely different sound against your head.”

E’manafa hid her smirk at their banter. She judged this to be an opportune time to try to get Dolorous alone. It wasn’t unusual for one of them to need to discuss something privately with one of the others. “Dolorous, if I might have a word with you?”

The roegadyn looked over at E’manafa, then got to his feet. “We won’t be long,” he apologized to Kikina, who merely waved him off.

E’manafa led Dolorous Bear a short distance from their campfire to a shady spot under the boughs of a huge, ancient conifer. There, she turned and looked up at his face.

The roegadyn was blinking down at her curiously, a furrow of faint worry between his brows. “Something on your mind, Emmy?”

E’manafa hesitated. She could sense the impending change that was imminent between them, for good or for ill. But there was no turning from this point. She took a deep breath, and replied, “Dolorous Bear… How long have we journeyed together?”

He tilted his head, then smiled. “It will have been four years, I reckon, come summer. I can still vividly remember the day we set out... Perhaps, you are not satisfied with what we have achieved in that time?”

E’manafa was unsurprised that Dolorous’s first attempt to guess her thoughts involved concern over a perceived lack of progress, since that was usually foremost on his own mind. She shook her head. “Quite the opposite. I think we’ve come a long way since we began… and not merely in the sense of us as adventurers.”

The roegadyn nodded, slowly. “Then… in the sense of us as individuals? And friends?”

E’manafa nodded. “That’s what I was thinking. The three of us have grown and changed so much. And we were always present in one another’s lives, through thick and thin. We are more than an adventuring party now. We’ve become like a family.”

She paused, worrying her lip between her teeth. Dolorous looked concerned. “Emmy… This is nothing that I did not already know. I may not speak of the way I feel often... but you and Kikina are the most important people in the world to me. When we achieve our dream - and I’m certain we shall - there’s no one else I would rather have at my side, than you, and her.”

E’manafa nodded. “Then you would understand why I would be hesitant to tell you the way I really feel.”

For a moment, Dolorous looked pained. “You do not feel the same? Do you mean to tell me you wish to leave?”

E’manafa quickly shook her head. She reached out and took his massive, gauntleted hand in both of her own. “No, I share your dream, as strongly as ever. But what you may not know…” She swallowed, releasing his hand, “...Is that I also dream of a future, in which we are together.”

She watched as understanding slowly dawned across his face. The revelation that she had feelings for him had not, apparently, ever occurred to him. The roegadyn was utterly blindsided, blushing and struggling to form a response. Finally, he looked away, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

“E’manafa…” Dolorous Bear began, “I am… humbled beyond words, that you would want this with me. It is very unexpected. I will not tell you that I entertained similar ideas for the future…” He turned back to the miqo’te, who was listening to him with preternatural focus, “...but, that may have been short-sightedness, on my part. I only ever thought of our shared goal. To become lauded adventurers, the kind of which stories are told.”

He sat down on a stump. “I don’t wish to cause Kikina to feel she is no longer one of us, if we were to do this. However… If the three of us can continue to be a team… and we can continue to work towards our goal… then I…” The roegadyn swallowed, “I wish to accept, if you’ll have me.”

He paused to look at her. E’manafa was covering her mouth with a hand. She moved it to wipe tears from her eyes, but she was smiling. “Dolorous…”

Dolorous smiled in return. No longer quite so worried, he was starting to look excited. “Emmy, you and I can make our own dreams for the future. Dreams I’d never before even considered… They could be ours.”

E’manafa stepped forward, towards the stump Dolorous was sitting on. He looked surprised, but managed to remain still, as she slid her hands around the sides of his broad face.

“Are you all right?” Dolorous whispered, noting the shed tears on the miqo’te’s face.

E’manafa nodded. “Yes, Dolorous. I’m so touched, and so glad… I carried these feelings inside me for so long.”

She leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

It had never before occurred to Dolorous Bear, that he might one day find something he would deem even more precious than the lifelong goal he’d always held in his heart. But he knew, as he felt E’manafa’s lips against his, that he had unexpectedly discovered such a thing. He moved to reciprocate, his kisses forming delicately around her own, tender and reassuring.

For Dolorous Bear, E’manafa, and Kikina, the world was as an open book, and all of their dreams could come true.

[dillydedalus]

september reading

there is literally no way it is september. impossible. anyway this month we have  horror, Fake Dating, the rashomon effect, a time war, and most importantly, no neutrals to be found anywhere

the old man & his sons, heðin brú (tr. from faroese by john f. west) published on the faroe islands in 1940 and the first faroese novel to be translated into english, this is a story about the dramatic shift in life style during the 30s on the faroe islands, from hardscrabble subsistence farming/fishing to market economy. interesting look at changing life on isolated isles, and a much lighter (and shorter) take on the stubborn autonomous subsistence farmer than laxness’s independent people. 3/5

the white shroud, antanas škėma (tr from lithuanian by karla gruodis - english/claudia sinnig - german) a modernist, fragmented, nonlinear novel about a lithuanian poet gone into exile, now working as an elevator operator in a new york hotel, who is involved with a married woman but might also be terminally ill. in between the present timeline, the book flashes back (both in the character’s own writing and in third person) to his youth in lithuania, his torture at the hands of the soviet regime, his time at a DP camp in germany and so on. quite interesting, with some great writing. 3/5

things we lost in the fire, mariana enríquez (tr. from spanish by megan mcdowell) really good collection of horror-ish short stories that also touch on gendered violence, child abuse, poverty and argentinian history (esp. dictatorship and disappearances) - some stories are more overtly horror, with clear supernatural elements, others are more ambiguous. i don’t read (or watch) horror stuff so i’m a bad judge of how scary this is - i found it more gruesome and upsetting than terrifying, but the dread is strong in this one. favourites: adela’s house (hungry haunted house), end of term and the title story (women & self-inflictred violence), under the black water (the poisoned oil-choked river is very bad but maybe.... there’s something worse in there). good, vividly gruesome, sharp sharp sharp. 3.5/5

axiom’s end, lindsay ellis i really like lindsay ellis, of all the ~youtube video essayists~ she’s probably my favourite and this book a) has a cool premise - aliens + conspiracies + alien communication and b) a really cool cover, and it’s lindsay, so i was super excited for this one. and it would be unfair to say i was disappointed with it; it’s a fun first contact romp with really good pacing, cool aliens, on-brand lindsay ellis humour and some interesting ideas on communicating with someone who is truly alien and incomprehensible. it’s fine! i enjoyed it and will definitely read the sequel, it’s just... i was hoping it would be AMAZING, and it just wasn’t. no huge problems (except for a few lines i would have liked to take a red pen to), just.... it was fine. 3.5/5 

zeno’s conscience, italo svevo (tr. from italian by william weaver) imagine you’re a businessman in trieste who does a little unsuccessful writing on the side and one day you decide to take english lessons to improve your business opportunities with the uk and your english teacher is JAMES FUCKING JOYCE who tells you that you need to keep writing. incredible. anyway these are the autobiographical notes of one zeno cosini, a hapless hypochondriac smug self-delusional fool, who just cannot quite quit smoking, marries the one sister out of three he least desires, & works as an accountant (for the man who married his most-desired of said sisters) despite his rather tenuous grasp on bookkeeping. my favourite scene is when his future sister in law (2nd most desired) complains lightly about her difficulties with latin, he tells her that he believes latin is a man’s language and even roman ladies probably didn’t actually speak it, only for her to correct him on a latin quotation. i will say tho that this book is way to long to maintain the endearingness and often drags. 3/5 tfw u write for an audience of one but that one is james joyce so fair enough

der hund/der tunnel/die panne, friedrich dürrenmatt dürrenmatt (in addition to having a cool-ass name) really fucking slaps!  his stuff is really good, and often really really wild. these three stories are all weird & slightly existentially scary, two degrees left of reality, and just. so interesting! we have a man stalking a street preacher and his monstrous dog, a train going through a tunnel for way too long (and it is very scary), and a man becoming involved in a pretend-trial (or is it) and becoming convinced that he actually is a murderer (or is he, really?). anyway, dürrenmatt.... slaps. 4/5

wow, no thank you., samantha irby a mix of memoir and comedy blogpost and social critique blogpost about growing up poor & black, dating while fat, chronic illness, and settling down in rural america. it’s fine. i haven’t read irby’s previous collections so maybe i’m missing that emotional connection, but i thought it was mostly...okay?? not especially funny imo & i prefered the more serious chapters of which there weren’t enough. 2/5

they say in harlan county: an oral history, alessandro portelli really impressive oral history about life in harlan county, appalachia, focusing on the labor strikes and conflicts in the 30s and 40s, but really exploring life and politics in the region from the first non-native settlement there to today. really interesting, sometimes inspiring and often infuriating and probably worth reading if you’ve ever listened to which side are you on. 4/5

rashomon & other stories, ryunosuke akutagawa (tr. from japanese by jay rubin) fun fact: if you read the short story “rashomon” expecting to get the, y’know, rashomon effect, you won’t get it bc the film actually takes its plot from the story  “in a grove”. anyway this is an interesting collection of classic japanese short stories, many of which are actually about unreliable witnesses/narrators. i particularly enjoyed “in a grove” and the truly disturbing “hell screen”, but found this particular collection just a bit too long. 3/5

women without men, shahrnush parsipur (tr. from farsi by kamran talatoff & joceyln sharlet) a magical realist feminist novella about 5 women in iran who all try to liberate themselves from men in one way or another, more or less successfully (one of them turns into a tree, another becomes undead), until they end up in a semi-utopian garden together for a time. disturbing in its depiction oppression and sexual/gendered violence. i don’t really know how i feel about it, but it’s a really unique and interesting reading experience; very fraught and ambivalent in the end. 3.5/5

take a hint, dani brown, talia hibbert i think this is the first actual pure genre-romance book i’ve read... in years??possibly ever? idk. anyway this is mostly a pretty fun & sweet story about ambitious & emotionally constipated phd student dani brown and security guy with tragic past zaf ansari, who begin a fake relationship for Various Reasons (as you do) and both develop Real Feelings (as you do, predictably). it’s mostly really enjoyable but man i’m really not used to Romance writing & it’s a lot. in the end everyone is very genuine & earnest & emotionally honest which.... not to be even more emotionally repressed than dani but i cannot deal with that. anyway given that 2020 truly is the gift that keeps on giving this was a fun fluffy delight & i might  read more from the series. 3.5/5

this is how you lose the time war, amal el-mohtar & max gladstone two agents (red and blue) on opposing sides of a time war (the futuristic techy Agency vs the eco/organic Garden - neither of them is Good or Bad exactly) start writing letters as they hunt each other through the strands of time’s braid and eventually (inevitably) fall in love. really interesting concept of time travel and different timelines (if, like me, you conceptualise past as down and future as up, this will trip you up so much), very lyrical writing that sometimes toes the line to overwritten but mostly really works. 3.5/5

DNF: the madman of freedom square & the iraqi christ, hassan blasim (tr. from arabic by jonathan wright, german tr. by hartmut fähndrich) bindup of these two short story collections about iraq. these are incredibly brutal, depressing & horrifying stories about a country in a constant state of war & struggle. couldn’t bear it, probably not ever & certainly not right now. 

allegro pastell, leif randt (audio) this is brilliant, bitingly funny novel about a millenial couple, tanja & jerome, and their on-and-off long distance relationship. they are privileged (and half-aware of it), attractive, successful, very in touch with their own feelings (couldn’t be me), self-reflective, faintly ironic in everything bc sincerity might be cringe, and you will hate them. these are people who perform their feelings rather than feel them, dissect all their opinions and impulses to the point of both paralysis and narcissism, engage in constant navelgazing and cannot form any relationship that isn’t based in constant evaluation and judgment. they pride themselves on their nonconformity but are really the greatest conformists of all, and the most square, boring, spießig people under the veneer of their urban liberal drug-and-club lifestyle. had so much fun with it even as i was constantly cringing at these people. 4/5

[tisthenightofthewitch]

It’s been an eventful past year, to say the least, for singer, songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Tobias Forge.

Up until recently, his band, Swedish occult-rockers Ghost, had been operating under a shroud of secrecy, with the multiple masked instrumentalists referred to only as Nameless Ghouls, while Forge, as frontman, assumed the role of Papa Emeritus (and Papa II…and Papa III), a sort of anti-Pope.

Over the course of three albums, Ghost rose to become one of metal’s hottest bands, with successful records (2016’s Meliora hit the Top Ten on the Billboard 200) and sold-out tours, multiple awards (including a 2016 Grammy for the Meliora track “Cirice”) and a worldwide fanbase that includes the likes of Dave Grohl, Phil Anselmo and the members of Metallica.

But in early 2017, the anonymity that seemed so vital to their story and music got stripped away when four former Ghouls filed a lawsuit accusing Forge of financial misconduct. As the suit became public knowledge, so did the identities of the parties involved, revealing Forge as the mastermind of the operation.

But rather than harming the band, this public unmasking seems to have only made Forge stronger. In addition to a new Ghost album, the excellent Prequelle, Forge (now in the guise of new frontman Cardinal Copia) and a new group of Ghouls are back out on the road, and the stages and theatrics have only grown bigger. Rather than pulling back, Forge has regrouped and redoubled his efforts.

“That was the point all along,” Forge says, speaking to Guitar World the morning after a show in Chattanooga, Tennessee, on Ghost’s U.S. headline tour—their first ever in arenas. “I mean, I am following my plan that I’ve had years before any of those guys were in this. So why would I change? That would be stupid. I swam way too far out. My whole life, my family’s lives, we’re all so invested in this and have sacrificed so much and are depending on this. Why would I sacrifice that for a bunch of fuckups? No way.”

Indeed, one listen to the new Prequelle makes it clear that Forge will not sacrifice his vision for anything or anyone. Not only has he not lost a step, but he’s continuing to push out on the Ghost sound and story. To be sure, there’s still plenty of vintage-hued metal to be found on Prequelle, including the riffy, anthemic first single, “Rats,” and the stomping and shreddy “Faith,” but there’s also swelling, string-laden piano ballads (“Pro Memoria”), poppy, disco-metal confections (“Dance Macabre”) and a pair of incredibly catchy instrumentals, one of which, “Helvetesfönster,” features flute and nylon-string guitar (the latter played by Opeth’s Mikael Åkerfeldt ) and the other, “Miasma,” that builds to an explosive saxophone-solo climax.

And Forge is only getting started. “The agenda has always been very rigorous and there’s always been a lot of ideas and concepts, and I still have not realized half of it,” he says. “I still have a lot to accomplish in the years coming. Believe me, there’s a lot in the pipeline going forward.”

The anonymity of the musicians in Ghost always seemed so important to the overall concept of the band. But now that the veil has been pierced, you seem almost reinvigorated.

Well, this is the thing—it was never like I was just waiting to be unmasked and then I was going to do this as per normal. Never. I don’t want to do Ghost as a normal, unmasked band standing around in, like, denim jackets. That was never the plan, regardless of whether people knew who I was or what size shoe I wear. So it doesn’t matter. For me, it’s the show that’s important. The make-believe part of it.

As far as the “make-believe” side of things, each Ghost album seems to revolve around a theme. When we spoke at the time of the release of Meliora, you said the album was about the “absence of god.” What is Prequelle about?

The return of god. And, for lack of a better way to put it, the day of doom, when god’s hand sort of reaches down upon the people. Like the Black Death. I wanted this album to have a sort of doomsday theme. But then it’s also themed around the idea of mortality and survival through turmoil, where you’re being judged and a doom has been cast upon you. How do you maneuver out of that?

When you’re composing songs, do the lyrics or the music come first?

The music comes first. Final lyrics are usually written very close to recording the vocals. It’s always been like a pulling-teeth situation for me, where some songs are definitely a knife to the throat on the day of singing. Like, “I need a lyric to this…now!”

Was there anything like that this time?

There are things like that every time. It’s endless. Because I always want to change things. But I usually come up with the important bits when I first begin writing. Like with the song “Rats,” I knew that was going to be the title and there was going to be the part that goes [sings riff] “Rrrats!” And from that it went through a lot of different shapes. But I very rarely start a song just with a riff. It’s usually a melody, and then it’s, “Here’s the verse, here’s the chorus.” And once I have that sort of transition, that’s when I have the song. Then I write riffs around that. That way there’s this steady melodic base. I might also write it with some bullshit vocals, and then I have to find my way with the lyrics around that. It’s varying degrees of pain.

You’ve hinted in the past that, even though you’re surrounded by Nameless Ghouls onstage, on the studio albums you play the majority of the instruments.

At some point or another I’ve played everything. But then to give you an example, you have heard the new album—I can’t play saxophone. But I can hum how I want a saxophone solo to be played. And I’m an able drummer, I can play Top 40 rock okay, but I can’t record hard-rock drums in a studio situation. That would be a waste of time. So I had a real drummer come in to do that work, even though I wrote the drum patterns. And that goes for all the records and all the songs. Even the songs that were co-written, I always played all the instruments at one point. So, when you hear Ghost, it’s my drum style. It’s my bass style. It’s my keyboard style. It’s my guitar style.

Are you playing all the guitars on Prequelle?

Yes. I performed all the guitars and all the bass. With one exception—in the song “Helvetesfönster,” there was a nylon-string part. I originally recorded it with electric guitar but it sounded weak. It didn’t sound cool. So I wanted it to be played with a nylon string. Now, I stopped playing nylon string when I was seven years old, so I called a friend of mine, Mikael Åkerfeldt from Opeth, who is very good at playing nylon string, to do it.

What was your guitar setup on the new album?

We did four rhythm tracks on everything. On one side we had a Les Paul gold top with P-90s that went through an Orange amp, and also a white [Gibson] Explorer from, like, ’82 or something like that—that typical James Hetfield sort of guitar—that went through an old Marshall rack amp from the early Nineties. And then on the other side it was a mid-Seventies Les Paul Black Beauty 20th Anniversary through one of those old Laneys that Tony Iommi used and an early Eighties [Gibson] Flying V that went through another Orange. Then I had a Seventies Strat for a lot of the leads, and I think I did overdubs mostly with the Explorer. So it was quite simple.

There are so many different styles that come through in your playing. Who were your influences as a guitarist?

There’s always a lot of classic rock—the old Sixties behemoths to, I guess, lesser-known stuff. And absolutely the heavy metal giants—Deep Purple, Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, Judas Priest, that sort of stuff—into the hard rock of the Eighties, the big arena rock. And then also underground death metal and black metal, and punk to a certain degree. I’m really trying my darndest to make this music as timeless as possible, even though it’s, to use an ambitious word, archaeologically going back to earlier music, especially Seventies hi-fi rock.

There is a definite vintage feel to Ghost’s music, but not to the point where it just sounds completely like a nostalgia trip.

Yes. I mean, it sounds different than your average sort of Black Sabbath rip-off sludge band. Because most of those bands that rave about Black Sabbath, the only songs they’re raving about and copying are the heavy songs. It’s never Black Sabbath’s more harmonic and grandiose tracks, like the ones you hear on Sabotage and Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, these albums that have ballads and really beautiful, humane thoughts. And that is the sort of Black Sabbath I am tapping into. That’s the sort of Black Sabbath I am inspired by. That sort of mid-Seventies period where they found orchestration.

In addition to the heavy stuff, you also have things like “Dance Macabre,” which has a dancey, pop element to it.

It does, yeah. I had the riff that starts the whole song, that was just a riff that got stuck in my head. I didn’t think of it as a Ghost thing at first. Because I heard the riff in a slightly more “synth-y” sort of way. But I showed it to some songwriting pals of mine and they were like, “That’s a Ghost song!” Oh, okay. I didn’t hear it that way at first. But it then it was, “Let’s make a Ghost song out of it…”

“Faith” has some great lead guitar playing in it. Clearly, you can shred if the part calls for it.

I can do it if I need to. But I guess that’s an ability thing. But one thing that sort of separates my way of learning to play guitar compared to a lot of others is that I sat with my guitar and my amplifier and I played a lot to records, but I usually came up with my own stuff over them. I never learned the actual solos. So in a cock-measuring contest where it’s about playing licks and playing fast techniques of others, I would definitely lose. Because I only know how to play my own shit. My ability maps my own writing. I haven’t spent a whole lot of time biting licks from the really quick masters. That’s why I’m not very good at that sort of super-fast, shreddy sweeping.

So I’ve never considered myself a traditionally good fast-playing guitarist. But I can do it, especially when I’m recording. With “Faith,” the solo called for an intense, aggressive part where I was like, “This needs to be aaargh!” I wanted to have that sort of attack you hear when you listen to something like [Metallica’s] “Hit the Lights,” where after every drum thing there’s this insane, quick, aggressive guitar bit. I wanted a piece like that but that sounded more evil. And I was able to do it.

In the past, did it ever bother you that because the band members were anonymous, you weren’t getting recognized for your writing or playing skills?

Yes and no. At the time I didn’t think of it as a negative. Because since I am the spokesperson for the band I’ve always been the one that had a full-time job with it. I was working all the time, writing, doing every sort of business thing you could imagine. It was very much a full-time occupation for me. Whereas it definitely wasn’t that for the others, who spent a lot of time just, you know, getting paid retainers. So I always felt from a positive point of view that I was given enough attention. I was given enough pats on the back to not bother with taking credit for everything.

However—when a lot of things were said and done and all of a sudden people were trying to rewrite the story of Ghost and sort of waving a flag for having done something they hadn’t done, that’s where I become a little like, “Wait, wait, wait—are you kidding? That was not your guitar. That was not your style. And if that was your style, write a record. Write a record that sounds like Ghost. You can’t.” That’s where I become a little childish. I didn’t bother to spell it out all these years, and I was fine with people basking in it or whatever. It’s fine. But don’t fucking lie about it. Don’t come out and, you know, aggressively claim that it was yours. That makes it a little bit difficult.

Have you ever had the desire to play the instruments onstage? Just grab a guitar and shred for the fans?

Well, over all these years when people have played it wrong, definitely I’ve wanted to be like, “Give me that god-dang…” [laughs] You know, there’s a lot of nuances in the recordings that I feel sometimes over the years have been missed. But, I mean, this is the thing. As I was saying, I am the director of the play. I just happen to play a part in it. But I’m also orchestrating it. So I don’t demand credit for every little smartass move everywhere, because I know where it all comes from.

As far as where it all comes from, what was your original intent with the sound of Ghost?

I wanted it to sound like the most gelled-together, intuitive band ever. And to sound like a band that plays just the right amount of stuff. Because whenever you have a band where you have phenomenal players, they usually overplay and they don’t really leave enough room for someone else. I mean, for a long time I always thought Frank Zappa had these amazing jam musicians. And then, haha, fuck me, little did I know that he wrote everything and that it was all totally scripted. But it sounded like it was, you know, this band just standing there, all flowing with it. So I guess that’s a little bit of my approach as well.

You want Ghost to be a band—even if, behind the scenes, you’re the one responsible for most everything that’s being put out there.

Yes. I’ll gladly give away the applause to someone else. That’s completely fine. I just want everybody onstage to have fun. And I want everybody in the crowd to have fun. And to believe.

[sangrepuras-blog]

DEVELOPMENT #001 –– OVERVIEW , GENERAL .

✘   basic background   ⋮   name   ,   date of birth   ,   ethnic background ,  etc    ✘   academic background   ⋮   year   ,   house   ,   student functions   ,   prev . academics   ,   etc   ✘   headcanons , drabble   ⋮   from application *

`   BASIC BACKGROUND   , 

▍ name   .   andromeda cassiopeia black

andromeda , a name spun of starlight . of constellations . and no , not in some deep metaphor kind of way –– unless circa stone age , ancient family traditions fell under the definition of metaphorsomewhere . it’s a name that’s meaning rings true with this particular black , however . coincidence , perhaps . to be mindful of man , it’s origin greek , as most constellations are . and in their literature , andromeda was a princess rescued from sacrifice by a hero ( their tales almost as un-orginal as her family’s traditions , honestly ) –– and she can’t help but wonder , painstakingly so , how her tale might play out .

cassiopeia , another constellation ? you guessed it . but also a black family ancestor , and the mother of andromeda in the greek mythological work . her parents get half a point in the creativity department for that one , she supposes .

▍ character date of birth ( month and day ) .

october 13th , scorpio , astrological sign of life , death , and resurrection –– shrouded in an energy of continual transformation and reinvention . scorpio individuals are often blanketed in an aura of mystery , enigma … the closed books of people , with an incredible knack for reading others . however , when opened and apt to trust , these individuals are loyal to a fault , hardworking , creative , ambitious , and passionate .

▍ ethnic background   .   latin american

▍ nationality   .   american   

▍ blood status   .   pureblood   

▍ social alignment / fealty   .   pureblood supremacy   ,   by association   –––   however she’s yet to be substantially vocal in regards to differing opinions otherwise .  

▍ biography   .

she was born with everything but a hundred - thousand - galleon silver spoon betwixt her lips and a priceless ivory comb nestled into her dark locks ––– but the spoon did come a day later , and the comb when her hair was long enough for it to anchor . privy , she was , to the best education money could buy … the grandest clothes … most opulent jewelry . and such was the life of one of the wizarding world’s last sacred purebloods , and a black at that . the lap of luxury was one of comfort and ease . such ease that she wasn’t even expected to think for herself . since birth , she’d been spoon fed bigoted beliefs and ideals of supremacy ––– just as often and if not more than she was fed sustenance . but what was a person without their own beliefs ? a shell ? a vessel for another ? and andromeda found no longer took a liking to being fed another’s ethics . tastebuds change . and the middle black had found her’s had been , slowly but surely , in the years since their return from the states . the air around the wizarding world is shifting irrevocably , and so is she .

`   ACADEMIC BACKGROUND   ,

▍ current enrollment   .   hogwart’s school of witchcraft and wizardry

▍ year , house   .   sixth year , slytherin

▍ current academic standing   .   noted for high achievements , o’s  

▍ student functions   .   dueling club , potions club

▍ previous academic history   .   ilvermorny school of witchcraft and wizardry

▍ years , house   .   first through begining of fourth year , house wampus 

▍ achievements   .   retriever of the ‘ excellence in potions cup ‘

`   HEADCANONS   ,   *

a gifted student , andromeda takes pride in her grades and academic success . very few things feed her superior - black - bred - ego quite like straight o’s on her exams do . her favorite classes include potions , defense against the dark arts , and herbology . she’s also an active member on school grounds , with involvement in both potions and dueling clubs . you know what they say , intelligence without ambition is a bird without wings .

she can fluently speak four languages , the two foremost of them being english and spanish , and the other two being italian and french . she’s currently in the process of learning arabic , and she hopes to take on german after . she has a great interest in , perhaps , working for the ministry upon graduation , diplomatic work of sorts . or maybe st . mungos ? so many opportunities . though she’s yet to tell anyone . there’s a reason the hat belted slytherin seconds upon touching her head , and she has aspirations and ambition for things greater than housewife .

her circle is small and tight . though she’s well known across the student body , she can count her truest confidantes and closest friends on one hand alone . her trust is sparing and not something easily received . she grows uneasy with each passing day , though she’d never voice it , that one day her own siblings will be among those she bars herself from completely .

american habits die hard , and she takes her coffee with extra creme extra sugar , spells colorswithout a ‘ u ‘ , swears like a sailor , drinks iced tea like water , et cetera .

*   to be updated

`   DRABBLE   ,

fourth year , january , slytherin common room .

let’s begin with a riddle , those are always entertaining , yeah ? okay , pay attention –– what do you get when you give a girl born and bred of privilege paired with an overdose of bigotry a conscious and a little compos mentis . you get a fucking headache . a raw ass tongue from years of biting it down , and a fucking sore throat on top of that from swallowing undesirable opinions like knives . patience is funny , it’s there and then it isn’t . perhaps that’s why she was sitting alone in the common room , skin itchy probably from dubious looks fellow housemates were casting in her direction . she’d snapped . so what –– people do that … but she wasn’t just people .                                        she was a black . and black’s don’t just snap . especially over the use of the word mudblood from the casual lips of another . and she was grateful , ever so briefly , that her elder sister had not been present to hear her lapse ––– though she was certain she’d be hearing about it from her at a later time in the evening . chisme , it spreads like wildfire , you know ? her face is stony as she rises and heads for the comfort of her dormitory , so is her gaze –– silent , but it conveys keep your fucking eyes off me quite clearly to anyone who meets it . a familiar wave of unease laps at the recesses of her mind , and she repeats her thoughts earlier to somewhat ease the brewing storm of her current mentality . i snapped , so what , people do that . she couldn’t help but wonder though , crawling into her bed , if she would have snapped like she did ( a sharp shut the fuck up with that word , for merlin’s sake ––– by the way ) if the object of said slur hadn’t been one particular hufflepuff she’d bumped into in one of the corridors last week . and again in the library on tuesday . and in the courtyard on thursday . and the library again . today . coño . a curse whispered to herself as she shuts her eyes to questions she does not care to answer . her unease far from quelled as she slips into discontented sleep . for she’s almost sure that the answer to her own question is a yes .

[modernfablepersonalshowcase]

Because I struggled with storyboarding ideas in lesson today, I decided to save photos on locations that I feel could tell a great story- not only historically but also personally to myself and growing up in Ipswich. 

Because I’ve decided on the places above, a few of them have historical importance to Ipswich so want to dive in deeper to the significance they’ve played in Ipswich’s history so I can incorporate this into my own personal experiences with them in my animation to give my animation more of a ‘visit Ipswich’ advertisement. 

Ipswich train station

This is the first place you arrive at in Ipswich, and whilst the train station has had a major make over... The view you get once you step out isn’t so great and your normally always approached by someone who is completely off their face drunk no matter the time of day. 

However, I never realised how long Ipswich station has been up and running! It was a very important part of Ipswich’s history to connect with the rest of the country. It has one of the best connections to London as its only 1 hour away and is less then this to get to Cambridge, Norwich and Colchester. 

It was July 1844 when the Eastern Union Railway obtained an Act of Parliament to build a line between Ipswich and Colchester to connect with the service from London to Colchester, which had operated since March 1843.

The site of the first Ipswich Station was in Croft Street with the service to Colchester opening in June 11, 1846. The tunnel through Stoke Hill was built in 1845-6 connecting to the line being built by the Ipswich and Bury Railway to Bury St Edmunds.

The Great Eastern Railway Company ran an open topped bus service from the Station to Shotley. Passengers on the top deck were supplied with waterproof sheets during wet weather. The service ran from 1905 to 1916.

‘A pair of Ipswich trams at the junction of Princes Street and Burrell Road, around 1905. The trams ran a service to and from the Cornhill’

What I found most interesting about this is that Ipswich use to have trams! Connecting the train station many places in Ipswich such as to Princes street, Burrell road and Cornhill. The great east anglian railway company also use to have a special bus that would come to pick people up and take them into town which is really cool! Nowadays Ipswich only has one bus that comes up to the train station compared to when it had multiple buses to choose from which all got cancelled... 

digby the blue octopus 

Digby the octopus is also a debated topic- some people like him, some people don’t. The best quote I could find about Digby is ‘something subtle to detract everyone’s eyes from the ugly, grey concrete beneath it. Good old Ipswich.‘

However Digby the Octopus was created with good intentions.

Digby the blue octopus was painted on the side of a dilapidated building at Ipswich Waterfront as part of the Never Ending Mural project.

John D edwards, a famous artist from Ipswich, created Digby the octopus. 

Mural curator John D Edwards said: “The Never Ending Mural has become a phenomenon that is proving to be a cultural, social and economic success story for the town and is generating interest across the world.

‘Removing boundaries'

"It's the start of a huge community arts project," he said.

"It's really removing boundaries and making it possible for people to get involved with things instantly rather than just dreaming about it."

Lynn Turner, owner of a jewellery shop on the waterfront, believes the project will help bring other businesses to the area.

"This is definitely going to be the talking point and encourage people to come down here and have a look at what's going on," she said.

“Until the businesses start coming back here and investing we have to do something because if not it will just look tatty. This is a fun way of making it look good."

I really like that this project got people to start thinking creatively to make Ipswich look a little bit more colourful and creative then it is. It’s also helping build opportunities for many people such as getting people involved with the project and helping bring more people in for local business's to start to thrive.  

The waterfront

The waterfront is the place to be in the summer and probably what people in Ipswich are most proud of as when its the evening the waterfront really does look beautiful when lit up! It’s also the best place for a night out as many of my personal favourite bars can be found here. It really is the hot spot of Ipswich and is also steeped in history. 

Ipswich Dock was completed in 1842. The Royal Assent from Queen Victoria for the Ipswich Dock Act was received in June 1837.

The plan was to build a dock where ships could float regardless of the tide. A channel, New Cut, was dug to take the flow of the River Orwell past the dock, which was built enclosing a natural bend in the river.

By the late 1970s much of the trade had moved from the dock and the area was redeveloped into a mostly residential and leisure area, with marinas, offices and flats opening around once busy quays where coal, grain and timber was unloaded.

A busy day on Common Quay in the 1960s. The silo in the background belonged to Eastern Counties Farmers.

The waterfront present days. Whist it can be beautiful at night, it really depends on the angle and where you take the photos. For example the second pictures show’s how many of the buildings are derelict because no business's are funding into Ipswich so nothing can be done about them. 

However in 2012  ‘ An archaeological dig at Ipswich waterfront has unearthed 300 skeletons and evidence of an old church.’

it is believed the Saxons occupied the site in the 7th Century and burials are believed to have taken place there until the 16th Century.

Mr Murray said: "More commonly you'd have shroud pins, but we've not had them either, so we're assuming it's a paupers' cemetery."

It’s really interesting looking into the waterfront and that it has always be significant to many people who come from Ipswich but this significance has always differed through out time. 

For the present day its one of the best places to go to socialise and have a drink with friends, but in the 1800′s-1900′s it was significant for trading and was also once a church for the saxons in the 7th century. I would really love to include something like this in my animation as I feel that it is such an important part of Ipswich for the locals and Ipswich’s identity. 

Also comparing back to my research on Ipswich train station, what I am understanding about Ipswich’s past is that it was actually very well connected both within the town and outside of the town to other places in the country! Whilst Ipswich’s connections to the rest of the country I would say is quite good, to get into the town centre is not quite as easy unless you get a bus... Which they have cancelled the majority of going to the train station. 

Christchurch park

Where to begin with Christchurch park? For me it has many different meanings and memories. My parents and grandparents would take me here to play, feed the ducks and get ice cream when I was a child. As a teenager this is where you would go after hanging out at mcdonald’s for about 4 hours to go and smoke and drink in a huge group of people because that’s what all the ‘cool’ teenagers did. 

But as I’m learning with many things with Ipswich, Christchurch park definitely has a long and vast history to it, however it was quite a bit more extensive then what I originally thought!

Documentary evidence shows that the first people to live here were monks.  In the Domesday Book, “Alnulfus the priest has a church, Holy Trinity, to which belongs twenty-six acres in alms”.

The church was to the west of Thingstede Way (Bolton Lane) and the parish boundaries were probably similar to St. Margaret’s. Around 1177 the Augustinian Priory of Holy Trinity (also known as Christchurch) was established with 260 hectares of farmland and fishponds.

In 1546 the Christchurch Estate was sold for £2,000 to a prominent London merchant, Paul Withypoll and his son Edmund.  Edmund pulled down the Priory and used much of the stone to build Christchurch Mansion.  He also remodelled the ponds and turned part of the estate into a deer park. Queen Elizabeth the First visited the Park in 1561 and 1579.

The Devereux family, who owned the land here from1642 –1732, created a number of gardens in roughly square enclosures east and west of the Mansion. This garden style reflected the fashion at that time for elaborate parterres and formal garden design.

Claude Fonnereau’s purchase of the Christchurch estate in 1735 coincided with an ambitious programme of alterations to the Park and the pleasure grounds by the 10th Viscount Hereford.

In 1895 Felix Thornley Cobbold presented Christchurch Mansion to the town as a gift, on the condition that the Corporation purchased the remainder of the Park.

In 1922 the Lower Arboretum was bought for £1,568 14s 3d and in 1924 the Cenotaph was unveiled. The Upper Arboretum was finally acquired for the Town in 1928. The great storm of October 1987 destroyed 235 trees in the Park, parts of which remained closed for many weeks. In 2003 the Heritage Lottery Fund approved a £4.2 million project, and works to the Park, including the building of the Reg Driver Visitor Centre, were completed in 2008.

http://focp.org.uk/images/stories/Downloads/Timeline.pdf

Its a very strange thought that the first people who might of lived at christchurch park were Monks as with the grounds and the building, I associate it much more with upper class, wealthy, tea-at-noon Victorian and Elizabethan era then with Monks. 

It’s also very strange to find out that christchurch park was never owned for to long. I had always imagined that it was a wealthy family that had owned christchurch park for a long time- but actually it was many different families and businesses that owned it, sold it, passed it on. 

Music in the park

This is one of Ipswich’s most busiest, popular and important events and its actually always an event I looked forward to so much! It was a great way of connecting to people, local businesses would be there selling locally made products, unsigned music acts would perform there and would gather huge crowds watching them and overall it was just a really fun day to have out compared to what weekends are normally like in Ipswich. 

Granted, the only pet peeve is that they really love to milk the fact that Ed Sheeran is from Suffolk... They even have an Ed Sheeran stage. (Ed Sheeran did actually play at music in the park in 2010). But regardless this was this is the biggest event that happens in Ipswich all year round and is a great day out for all the people that live there.

So these next few ‘iconic’ Ipswich places also include some iconic people ‘legends of Ipswich’ you could say. These are also from my own experiences of living in Ipswich and can’t be found online which could be problematic- but I thought it would be really funny to include in my animation to really give a locals view of what its like to live in Ipswich and why people should come and visit to see these iconic places/people. 

‘hippie hill’ 

So this is a hill that is in Christchurch park. You have many sections in the park- the entrance that leads you straight to the entrance of the building has a section of grass in front of it. This is where all the young, cool teenagers come and gather in large groups to drink, smoke, listen to music really loudly and judge any ‘oldie’ that walks past them. 

Hippie hill on the other hand is where everyone goes to get high. It’s normally completely crammed with high older teenagers when its music in the park (the music festival of Ipswich). Most people that walk past the hill will normally be greeted by a strong woft of weed.

‘t shirt lady’ 

A woman that has appeared many times throughout my research but this is just because she is truly a woman only the locals understand. If we went to Norwich and saw a woman just in a shirt and underwear we would be SHOCKED- but because its the t shirt lady of Ipswich, everyone’s pretty chilled about it. If anyone ever looks shocked you know there not a local. 

So this one is an actual living, breathing woman. With no trousers on. Known by all the town folk as the T-Shirt Lady, this local legend does not give a single fuck. With her wild black hair, she can often be spotted wandering the streets of Ipswich with nothing but her T-Shirt on. She strolls about proudly with her knickers on display. Only tourists will look on with disbelief, as the people of Ipswich are so used to seeing her they hardly raise an eyebrow.

‘overcrowded topshop’ 

‘The best retail therapy Ipswich has to offer is a very small and constantly crowded Topshop.’

This one I feel is really to oddly specific and people just wouldn’t be that interested in if I were to include it into my animation. However I still wanted to include it anyway as this is truly a very Ipswich thing as I remember every weekend I would go to Topshop with the £10 my mum would give me to buy a pair of socks.... Because it was the only shop that was actually ok in Ipswich. 

‘woman selling hedgehog in ipswich alleyway’ 

Now this is a weird one and not really a local legend but more of a woman that was seen once and was never seen again... and this was a story told by my friend. 

They were walking and took a turn down an alleyway, then a woman came out at them and was holding a box, lifted the lid and offered if they wanted to buy one of her hedgehogs and it was just a box with hedgehogs in it.... But after that the woman with the hedgehogs was never seen again. 

It’s such a bizarre story... But honestly, it really doesn't feel that weird just because it happened in Ipswich.