#i have almost every ghost song in there and it pulled stuff from the era where i used the speaker at word and added tswift

[blazefire2012]

Tagged by @godforbidding (thank you, I love this one and these tag games are cute to me lol) I'm a lowly Mobile user so forgive formatting, I'm trying my best.

Shuffle music library, list 10 songs, tag people!

1. Savior - Rise Against

2. The Last Great American Dynasty - Taylor Swift

3. Northern Downpour - Panic At The Disco

4. Waiting For The End - Linkin Park

5. Long Way Down - Robert DeLong

6. Zombie - The Cranberries

7. Eros And Apollo - Studio Killers

8. All Time Low - Jon Bellion

9. We Made You - Eminem

10. Doncamatic (feat. Daley) - Gorillaz

I'm tagging (don't have to if you don't want to, just thinking about you <3) @thatonepeppi @fluffy-bats-appreciator @theiconicace

[adultswim2021]

Space Ghost Coast to Coast #82: “Baffler Meal” | January 1, 2003 - 12:00 AM | S08E01

An all-time classic, wonderful episode. Ending 2002 on a high note (technically this is the first episode of 2003 being that it aired at midnight, but I’m delaying my EPHEMERA CORNER post for as long as I can).

The origins of Aqua Teen Hunger Force are laid bare for all to see with Baffler Meal. Aqua Teen Hunger Force was famously based on a rejected Space Ghost script. Well, this is that script, re-imagining the Aqua Teens based on old designs and concepts from that unproduced episode. The desired effect is to approximate what that episode would have been like had it been produced in 1999 before the Aqua Teen Hunger Force series proper was developed. It’s supposed to be confusing; to the point where in the DVD commentary track they even question weather or not they should make it clear within the commentary that that’s what’s going on here (they do).

I will now take this opportunity to quote one of my favorite synopses of a TV show ever, originally taken from tvtome (remember tvtome? god, what a great site):

Space Ghost is forced into a raw deal with the deadly Colonial Man, forever altering the future of classic rock - again. Willie Nelson and a MOCKERY of the Aqua Teen Hunger Force star in this episode. This episode mocks a great comedy show. It doesn't feel funny in the least.

Here you can see the lack of understanding for what the episode really is. Despite the fact that the ostensible Space Ghost fan (tvtome was run by volunteer submissions for it’s episode data) should one-thousand percent understand the Space Ghost connection, clearly recognize Dave Willis’ voice (he still voices Meatwad in a very similar manner), etc. The degree of confusion this episode caused can not be understated.

Nuggets from the DVD commentary:

Frylock is a guy in a costume in this. Okay, that wasn’t specifically from the DVD commentary, but it’s the first time I caught that detail, ever, and I don’t want to start a separate bullet-point list for stray observations.

Shake’s read of “blahd” instead of “blade” was inspired by a real typo in the script, just like “Branford the Branford” before it.

Todd Hanson of The Onion helped write this episode and kept pitching a character named Napkin Lad. I believe Napkin Lad actually comes to be later in the Aqua Teen series.

And another thing I love: The cool song at the end. The part where Dave is like “OH BABY, YEAH BABY” etc. towards the very end of the episode? That part gets stuck in my head like, VERY FREQUENTLY, and for years I thought it was Bob Odenkirk singing in either a Mr. Show or Ben Stiller Show sketch and have been trying to place it forever. Turns out it wasn’t Bob, but David, and I ain’t talkin’ Cross, do I sound cross to you? Do you even appreciate wordplay??

NEXT is my end-of-the-year roundup of second-run premieres, shorts, commercials, bumpers, etc. That’s right, EPHEMERA CORNER is back! But it’s gonna be a long one so I might break it up over the course of a few days, maybe a week, even.

MAIL BAG

I think these were all anonymous, please forgive me if I have, as the French say, “fucked up” by failing to name the conspirator.

2002 is almost over! What do you think brak's position on the iraq war was? Carl's? Hesh's? Junior addleburg's?

Brak: against, but respects the office of the presidency and urges using civil methods to protest. Carl: pro, he is a white supremacist and is supportive of any and all mass destruction committed on non-white nations. Hesh: HESH WANTS SOME SEX! lol. Junior Addleburg: has not been told about the war.

Do you think you are being overtly charitable to Brak this time around? Surely the best Brak show episode isnt even half as good as the worst Home Movies episode. Right?

I do tend to react to “better” Brak episodes the same way you encourage a problem student when they squeak out a B minus. There absolutely was a time when I loved The Brak Show and was all-in on it. That time was SEPTEMBER 2nd-8th, 2001. Hippo was certainly a factor. 9/11 may have also contributed.

I don’t think I’ve said this yet, but I’ve been keeping a running episode ranking of Adult Swim shows as I’ve been doing this. It’ll probably get revised at some point, so I’m not exactly ready to share it. In my ranking I tended to group Home Movies episodes very close to each other, and I would sometimes talk myself into ranking things a little higher or lower than I normally would just to break up a long streak of Home Movies. So I can actually say with impunity, yes, there are strong episodes of Brak Show that I've ranked over weaker episodes of Home Movies. But I might have to have a little chat with the man in the mirror about that.

Are you only doing animated shows or are you going to do live animated shows to. I feel like most people agree Tim and Eric bringing live-action to the block ruined it permanently even if you think those guys are funny in a vacuum. I'm just wondering because I know you did animation only for your Simpsons Night B-sodes so I feel you are a "tooned-in" guy.

Live-action is getting reviewed too! I can’t WAIT to revisit Saul of the Molemen. Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not sure where to draw the line on the internet stuff, though. If it aired on Adult Swim I’m very likely to cover it, but I don’t see myself covering the FishCenter repeats that aired at 4AM. Anime is generally getting the shaft. Sorry. I think it’d be cool if somebody started a blog that covered Adult Swim Action. But yes, you are right, I’m a pretty tooned-in guy. Lots of people have said this about me.

If you had to dress like any of the Adult Swim First Era characters for Halloween who would you dress as and who would you LIKE to dress as if difficulty of pulling it off wasn't an issue.

There was a Space Ghost muscle suit at one of those Halloween Stores one year and I very nearly bought it even though I had no intention of wearing it for Halloween. I did a very low-effort season 4 Hank Venture because by happenstance my hair looked like his at the time, and I found what looked like Brock’s jacket at a thrift store.

Putting on a blue Sealab uniform and only traveling in a chair with wheels would be real fun. I could probably pull of an effective Carl. As far a difficult costume I’d be the poolside announcer during the O.G. bumpers, because I imagine that he’s very muscular and his dick is real long and it’s constantly flopping out of the pantleg of his swim trunks and that it’s getting sucked off all the time by them old ladies and most of the time he’s like “no no, we mustn’t do that, for I am a professional” but every now and again he’s like “well alright” and this would reflect my experiences at whatever Halloween party I’m at except it would be a 20 year old woman dressed like an old lady because it’s Halloween. Thanks for the question.

Do you have a girlfriend? What does she think of Adult Swim or does she hate cartoons like mine.

I’m not done with the last thing. I would also have a bullhorn and I’d be using it while getting sucked off, even though that’s a discreet affair. Like, we’d find a bedroom that was empty and lock the door and I’d be like “Oh yeah baby suck my peenie, yes you are doing so good at sucking that.” in hushed tones, but into the bullhorn. I’d also use it to yell at children for wearing racist or appropriative costumes, which, as we all know, leads to more getting-your-dick-sucked. Anyway, I got a wife and we literally met at an Adult Swim event during Comic-Con! It was Tim & Eric Awesome-con 2007! I’M NOT LYING

Would you rather take one big bite out of meatwad or drink the entirety of Master Shake.

I wonder if Master Shake is warm. Anyway, I’d go with that, biting Meatwad seems like CERTAIN DEATH.

[helbramstrauma-main]

Rain Check

Masterlist

Racetrack Higgins x Reader

Modern Era

Word Count: 1309

I am been counting down the days for this trip since the day we planned it two weeks ago. Kathrine's childhood summer camp is now open to the public and she rented a cabin for the lot of us before anyone could disagree. Now the day has come and my ride is about an hour late, in classic Racetrack fashion.

We have been friends since Freshman year and practically inseparable since, however, recently things have taken a different turn. A good turn. About a month ago we went on our first date, and a week after that our second. Nothing is official yet, we are just testing the water- to see if something is truly there. Our friends do not even know about it, this is just between us until there is a thing worth mentioning. However, every time I see Davey my immediate reaction is to tell him everything, but we agreed to meet in secret and not whisper a word to anybody. I am not sure where we stand though, because or the third date ended in a weird place.

He was walking me back out to my car after dinner when we started in an inch closer to each other. I was fully pinned against the car and my hands were resting on his neck pulling Race closer. The thing that followed afterward was barely a kiss, his lips simply ghosted over mine. He jolted back as soon as my car alarm went off, and we have not talked about it since. However, him offering to carpool to the camp has to say something.

Eventually, I see Race's 2001 Saturn turn into my driveway and his goofy lopsided grin showing. Amazing how he can be so unphased by his horrific skills to keep track of time. I wonder if he is still thinking about that night like I am. Or if he even wants to see me again.

Either way, he gets out of his car and walks towards me and my bags. He trips a little bit as he ignores the lip of the sidewalk up to my house, but he recovers in a few more steps. Once he reaches me I can tell that he put on cologne, it is not overpowering but it is definitely present. When he pulls me into a tight hug, I cannot help but smell him a little more. It is certainly a good smell. Race loosens his grip around my waist, but not fully letting go, "are you ready to hit the road?"

"As ready as I will ever be" I answer picking up my backpack, as Racetrack carries my duffle bag over to the car.

With the addition of my stuff, the trunk is full. When leaving the driveway, Race does not give me enough time before he swerves out, almost hitting some of our landscaping. This is just the first thing in our journey of almost having to pay property damage, and certainly breaking all the rules to driving. In the beginning, we would talk over some music playing at a low volume. It was obvious that we are both trying to avoid the topic of that night, and frankly every night prior to that. At some point we were so desperate we started talking about our favorite breed of bird.

Sometime in the second hour we ditched all forms of communication and just blasted the radio. It was just something we were doing at first to avoid the conversation we need to have, but it turned into screaming all the lyrics to songs you don't know the lyrics to. Who knew you could have so much fun avoiding an imminent discussion that both parties are attempting to ignore.

"I think you took the wrong exit, I say as we are soon greeted by tall buildings instead of a forest.

Race chuckles before responding, "what makes you say that?"

We stop by a local shop and I buy some snacks as Race asks for directions to the campsite. He is writing down the instructions on the back of an old recipe as the man behind the counter gives him directions. His curly hair getting in his face with him occasionally brushing a strand away. While I not so subtly stare at him my feelings rush out like a waterfall. I do not just want to be friends with Racetrack, I wish my car alarm did not go off that night. Unfortunately, this realization will certainly make this whole trip plenty harder.

When Race returns to be he places my hand on the small of my back, guiding me out of the store. I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks, it is impossible to miss my face is certainly red. "Let's get going" Race whispers in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

Unfortunately, the rest of the trip was way less intimate, that being said, it certainly did not stop me from running the scenario over and over through my head. Every time he would shift in his seat I thought he would grab my hand, that is resting on the center console, and every time I realize how much I wish he would grab it.  

To me it feels like the tension in the car could be cut with a knife, but I have no idea what he is feeling. All I need to do is ask him where we stand but that seems to be the most impossible thing to do right now.

I stare out the windshield trying my best to think of anything else than the boy sitting in the driver's seat. Small water droplets begin to dot across the windshield, and dark storm clouds begin to cover the blue sky.

By the time we pull up to the campsite it is pouring, and it does not look like it is going to let up anytime soon. Plus it is a three-mile hike to our cabin, so we are planning on just waiting for it to slow down. We sit in silence with the only sound being the pitter-patter of the rain hitting the car.

"I think we should talk about, well," Race starts to trail off.

I take a deep breath in, knowing that there is no going back now, "us"

Racetrack's arms are in between his legs as he fiddles with his thumbs, "Yeah". At last, he stops looking down and he stares at me with his eyes the softest I have ever seen them. A long-awaited hand is placed in mine giving it a squeeze, and I return it. "I want to go for it. With you, that is, like romantically" Race trips over his own words.

Relief washes over my body as I realize things are going to be okay, things are going to be perfect. I do not know how to put what I am feeling into words so all I do is finish what we started that night. I start to lean over the center console and I see him doing the same thing, but before the long-awaited kiss, he stops by pressing our foreheads again.  

"Are you sure you want this?" Race asks staring at me with his blue eyes. I glance down at his lips briefly before nodding.

I ease my eyes shut and before I know it I feel the lips that once ghosted over mine. The moment is sweet yet hungry as if we are making up for the lost time. At this moment it is just Race and me, nobody else in the world matters. When our lips part it is only briefly for I feel his arms wrap around me pulling me closer.

Before we know it, the rain clears up but we have no intention of moving.

"Let's just stay here for the night," I say. I get a quick nod from Race before returning to our prior position.  

[headoverhiddles]

Like A Heretic - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Fluff]

Synopsis: You know Manson from one (1) party, yet he feels the need to drunk text you his obscene propositions at 2 am on a Wednesday? 

Notes: What?? I wrote a fluff fic?? Yea, it’s been known to happen. Shhh. Pale Emperor era. Also, this one is gender neutral, reader can be any gender! 

You collapse into the plush of your down comforter, feeling the fluffy feathers sink beneath you. Smiling to yourself, you clear the day away in your brain, bulldozing over every worry, publicity problem, or stressed manager that could be dealt with the next day. For now, you’re in your bed, and nothing can come between you and a peaceful night’s sleep. 

You cuddle into your pillow. The feeling you’ve got right now is comparable to a the perfect orgasm-- you never want to leave this bed. Your mind starts to drift, and you picture yourself on a beach somewhere, where no one can reach you. No one... no one... except that bee buzzing in your ear.

Groggily, you open your eyes. That’s not a bee. It’s your phone. 

Dammit, why didn’t you put it on silent? You go to turn it off properly, but the text on your screen makes you hesitate. You blink a few times, squinting through the dark at your phone. Were you reading that right?!

Manson: Hey (y/n) psssst. I’ve got a secret can I tell you the secret 

“What the fuck?” you mumble out loud, and sigh, turning on your bedside lamp. Manson? What... oh. Oh, yeah. About two months ago, you had attended a music awards event in New York, and had met a few new people. One of them had been Marilyn Manson. He had been a lot more down to earth than you had imagined he would be, and the two of you hit it off pretty well. 

It struck you as interesting as well, but he had followed you around that night like a lost puppy. He always wanted to be around you, and it had been him who had suggested you exchange numbers, maybe hang out, go see a movie or something. You had excitedly given him your number, but didn’t think much would come of it. He probably got lots of people’s numbers, then forgot about them the next week. 

So why was he texting you at... 2:13 in the morning?! You stare at the same text again. 

Manson: Hey (y/n) psssst. I’ve got a secret can I tell you the secret

You bite your lip, and type out a quick text back.

(y/n): Shoot.

His reply is almost immediate. 

Manson: I wanted to say when I saw you and we hung out at radio city last month you were cute really sexy n beautiful ad I miss you :( :(

You blush a little bit, but type back a cautious text. 

(y/n): You feeling alright? 

Before you can hit send though, another text from him comes in.

Manson: If you think I am drunk and handsome you are correct, i’m both

You giggle a little, and sit up fully. Manson’s drunk texting you, telling you you’re cute? This couldn’t get any crazier if you made it up. 

Manson: Do you know what sexting is? 

You raise your eyebrows. 

(y/n): I’m familiar with it, yes. 

You bite your lip. Should you add a winky face? Before you can, he writes back. 

Manson: what if i told you I wanted to lick your body ad probably do butt stuff with you too? 

You feel yourself heat up even more, and you don’t know whether to laugh or get aroused. 

(y/n): You fucking with me, Manson?

Manson: I would like to fuck you, yes. 

(y/n): So... tell me more, then. What else would you do to me?

Manson: Id cum on your chest

Manson: oops was that too far?

(y/n): No... go on.  

Manson: maybe on your face then if you want that, I wanna be respectful 

Manson: I’d also punish your sex hole. i’m really good at that

(y/n): You sound like a porn bot lol 

Manson: dirty old man in your area looking for hot singles <3 that looks like a pointy dick

You giggle, and are about to sign off so you can sleep for real, but he texts again with something that makes you pause. 

Manson: Wanna cum over? 

You stare at the text, waiting to see if he’ll write again. You wait, and wait. Nothing else is coming in. You type out a few possible responses. Then you finally hit send on your last one, biting your lip. 

(y/n): What’s your address?  

Shit. Shit shit! What are you doing? Looking back at your bed though, you can’t deny you feel a thrill. This is the shit you moved here to LA to do. 

---

Pulling up to Manson’s address, the place is just like him-- not what you were expecting. It’s a dark apartment above a liquor store, with black out curtains covering the window. You walk over to the stairs, and catch the door when someone walks out. Heading inside, you look down at your phone, and find his number. Apartment 15. 

You knock softly, and wait. When he doesn’t come to the door, you shoot him off another text. 

(y/n): I’m at your door, don’t leave me hanging or I’ll leave you with a hard on

He doesn’t respond, and you hear a moan inside. You frown, and try the door handle-- it’s open. You walk in, forgetting momentarily where you are, and see that the place is a relative mess. Piles high of books, records and movies are stacked along the walls, and there’s like, one dying plant by the darkened window. It’s laughable to assume the poor thing gets any sun, which is also a statement that could be applied to the rock star you’d come to sleep with. 

A bunch of album artwork for his new record, the Pale Emperor, is laid out on his table as well. You take a quick glance at it, before dropping your jacket. 

“Hey,” you call out, “I’m taking my top off! You’re gonna miss it if you don’t come find me!” You hear the moan again, and walk down the hallway. “Oh, fuck.” 

“’M alright...” He’s on the floor, in a puddle, four small cats surrounding him. One rusty colored one is lapping from the puddle. Was this a Jimmi Hendrix situation???

“Please don’t tell me that’s piss,” you mutter, “Cause I am not cleaning that up.”  

One of his four cats meows loudly. Manson just laughs. “It’s vodka. I slipped and broke the bottle.” 

“That I can clean up,” you nod, but first, you help him to his feet. He wobbles a little, and falls into you. Pinned against the wall, his lips are inches from yours... until his head thumps beside yours, lips pressed into your neck. He’s so fucking gone. You look around, and spot the washroom down the hall the other way. You help him slowly, and he keeps talking the whole way.   

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” he mumbles, “My brain camera remembered you were hot but I didn’t remember you being this hot... mmhm...”

“You still down to fuck me?” you tease, helping him sit on the edge of his bathtub. His eyes widen a bit as he licks his lips and points a swaying finger. 

“Baby I was born ready to fuck. I came out of the womb with an erection.”

You cringe. “That’s... a very disturbing mental image.” 

“You know what else is disturbing? My DICK.” He frowns a little, nose scrunching up. “But not for... it’s not disturbing, it’s just disturbing how big it is... or...”

“Stop, you’re turning me on,” you smirk sarcastically, and get a towel, dabbing his face down with cool water. “How does that feel?”

“Oh baby, you feel so good, fuck,” he moans, and you blink. God damn, he really is wasted. 

“Good to hear.” You plant a kiss on his cheek as you sponge down his arms, and he purrs like a big happy cat, nuzzling into your chest. 

“Do that again?” You smile, and lean in, kissing him again, this time closer to his mouth. Then you kiss him again, and again, each one earning more praise from the god of fuck before you. “Mm yeah-- oh yeah-- yeah yeah, right there-- yeah yeah right there...” He grins, eyes closing. “Mmm, delightful.” He blinks up at you, swiping a hand across his smudged eyeliner. “Will you... be my friend?” 

“Sure. Friends to lovers is always a fun way to go.” He seems genuinely happy with this. “You know, you’re sexy too,” you say, helping him take his shirt off. You glance down his chest and stomach at his tattoos, trying to focus on the project at hand instead of actually picturing riding him right now. “I thought so the night I met you at Radio City, and I think so now.” 

“Really?” he hums, reaching up in his stupor to put a hand against his chin. He suddenly seems bashful, and realizing how vulnerable he’s made himself, hides half of his face. “Even without my makeup?” 

“Definitely. I happen to think you’re beautiful.” He purses his lips.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not! In fact, if you weren’t absolutely shit hammered right now, I’d probably want you balls deep.”    

He groans. “Fuck it if I’m drunk, that’s when I’m in my strongest form!” He slips a little, steadying himself on the toilet as he stands. 

“I would disagree with that, but...”

“Besides, with all those compliments, you’re... you’re making my dick hard, see? And now it’s... ahh, it’s gonna be mad at me if I don’t... you know, fuck you, so...”

“Shh, for now try to walk straight.” 

“Where are my asshole cats?”  

“They were all watching you describe your dick to me,” you say, and he wags a finger their way. 

“Dooon’t listen to daddy, my loves. Nonono. Bad. This is grown up human people talk!”

You giggle. “You must like cats.”

“I am a cat person, I love cats. That’s why I don’t give it doggy style, cause I’m a cat man. The crazy cat man. That sounds like a serial killer...”

You giggle, and guide him back down the hall. “Where’s the bedroom?” He lifts his chin to gesture to it. 

“Last door on the right.” You help him into bed, and he tosses a pillow at a tall vase in the corner, sending it shattering. “Goddamn ghosts in my house, watching me sleep,” he slurs, and points wildly to his closet. “The sex toys are in there, if you wanna get yourself started...”

You smile, politely neglecting the sex closet of the rock star you’d been booty called by. Masturbating in said rock star’s home while he’s passed out shitfaced doesn’t look good for anyone involved. 

“Goodnight Manson,” you sing song, and shut his door. Pressing your back against it, you exhale. What just happened? 

You carefully walk over to the spilled vodka, and check the shards of glass. Thankfully no blood anywhere-- that would have been even worse to clean up. You grab a rag from the kitchen, and start mopping up the floor. One of his cats walks over from the bathroom, and starts to rub against your ankle.

“Well, hi. What’s your name, love?” You check the tag. “William. Very handsome name. Handsome just like your dad.” You sigh, as William follows you around the apartment. You feel like you shouldn’t be here anymore. It was a mistake-- he was obviously too drunk to do anything to or with you tonight. You should just leave. Yeah. Go back home, forget this ever happened and... maybe check in with him tomorrow morning, see how bad his hangover is. If he responds. 

Just as you’re about to leave though, you hear his slurred voice call from the bedroom. “(y/n)--!” 

You hesitate, then walk back in, shutting the door. You walk over to his room, and open the door. “Yeah?”

“...Get into bed with me? Please? Wanna hold someone...” 

You look behind you, and then to him again, where he’s laying, tangled in his limbs, in the large bed. You nod, and close the door to a crack, coming in. You unzip your hoodie, and before you can come to your senses, you get into one side of his king sized bed. You hear him breathing softly, and smile a little at the sudden intimacy of it all, turning over in fetal position. Not how you expected this night to turn out, but it might be even better. 

Just as you’re falling asleep in the bed of the Antichrist, you feel arms wrap around you from behind, and feel his head in the nape of your neck. Beginnings of rare stubble scratch your skin pleasantly. 

“This an okay alternative to butt stuff?” he mumbles, and you reach up to hold his wrists against you. 

“It’s perfect.” 

[soldixrqin]

                                                      “Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways.”

Location: Fire Nation Villages / The Palace Courtyard

Time: A day prior to Firelord Zuko’s coronation and the day after it

      "Yes, that is a carrot in the stew." Qin cracked the tiniest bit of a smile, as he packed his stuff for yet another journey ahead. The old lady who had sheltered him for the past two days was so kind to the boy, he couldn’t dare leave her until he was sure everything he could do to help her was done. "But I do have to go, now."

     It was the coronation after all. All Fire Nation citizens were expected to go. Qin Lee didn't know how to define himself, however. Yes, he was a citizen. Was. Then he was turned into a soldier, oppressed by Ozai's wrath and now... well, it was like he was a newborn again. His life had taken another turn of helping and nurturing those who needed it behind this facade of a stonefaced, exhausted soldier. Poor people from the villages he'd visit knew who he was, a necklace dangling around his neck reminding him and them of what preceded him. They knew who Qin supported back then, but did he have any choice? Yet, through his actions and almost no words spoken, he showed that he cared now. He tried to convince people that he was on the side of the spear rather than the handle. Or at least, he tried.

     "Thank you for everything." Qin bowed slightly, his right hand forming a fist and pressing into his straightened left hand. A traditional Fire Nation symbol of respect.

     "You'll miss it, young boy. If you so wish to see Ozai's little one take the golden flame in his ebony hair, you might as well have began travelling yesterday!” the old lady said with a painful undertone in her voice.

     Qin remembered stopping in the middle of the woods as celebrations due to Fire Lord Zuko's coronation raged on in the far distance. He could hear cheers and festive songs of freedom. Yet for Qin Lee, there was no escaping Ozai's blood.

     Even though it was all over and the soldier was finally free from his duty, Qin couldn't help but remember how they treated soldiers like dogs. Each day there was a looming guillotine over their head, coated with fire and waiting for one tiny slip up to make them pay for their mistakes. Those days were over, Qin had attempted to imprint in his brain. It will be different. Repent, atone, do not explode. Yet when old doe eyes looked at him and reminded him that it's just another of Phoenix King’s bloodline to come upon the throne, Qin was sickened to the core.

     And so he missed the coronation. But he'd never miss what was to come. It came from mouth to mouth. From villagers to workers to lumbers and finally - to Qin himself. Riots, protests, opposition. Rebellion. 'No, Qin. You are over it. You shouldn't give in to people rebelling. What if you burn for this as well? What if this becomes your next sin instead of your redemption?'

     People were marching around Qin, the early dawn filled with chants from all around the village he had decided to settle in for the night outside the Fire Nation Capitol. The picture in front of him was familiar to him. Countless times before, he was ordered to repress these people, the ones wanting change. He was forced to tell them to subdue their opinions and lower their voice or face the Firelord's judgement. Yet now, he was on the other end of the rope, pulling at the side of justice. As countless of men, women and children slowly made their way towards the gates if the Capitol City, Qin was faced with a decision that would mark the beginning of his journey to mend his relations with the people. A woman ran by him, almost knocking him off his feet, chanting "WE WANT CHANGE, WE WANT JUSTICE" while whispers traveled through his ears of Firelord Zuko's intent for Secret Meetings of his council. The clock was ticking for Qin.

     Should he vanish for his own good and leave the protestors be - or join them to seek answers about the damage done to his family, to his nation and to his sanity?

     It was not long before they were at the Palace's courtyard where just a day ago festivities were held. Firework dust and spilled food from yesterday's celebrations still wandered on the ground as rioters kicked and spitted down on it. Lurking in the crowd, Qin couldn't help but agree with what the people wanted to say. They wanted transparency above all, they wanted their new Firelord to listen and act righteous instead of secrecy and potential terrorism. They were right to be scared and afraid, for they have seen it all when it comest to injustice. Qin couldn't blame them. He knew first hand why this had to be insisted of.

     "... And I'm sure the war veterans here would agree with me!" One of the screaming rioters said, looking at Qin with a questionably raised eyebrow, waiting for an expression out of the ex-soldier. People slowly began turning to him, twisting their necks or shifting their bodies so they could see better. That was it for a peaceful tea sipping and daydreaming while enjoying a protest, it seemed.

     "I-... I don't think there's much to be said." The people kept silent, either in disbelief or anticipation. All the bubbling thoughts in Qin suddenly began simmering as every pair of eyes fixated on him. They all expected for him to lead or step up with a message for the people he once poked with a weapon and threatened with fire. It took every living fiber of his body not to move as more people gathered around him, the circle they formed reminding Qin of a rope around his neck.

     "But you do deserve the justice you seek. We all do." Words escaped his lips as if it was conscience speaking. Tired and war-exhausted eyes all around Qin looked at him with glory and hope, eyes that saw brutalities as much as his own pair did. "It's time to stand up and never allow the Phoenix to once again rise. We must insist that for the safety of those who will follow us. For our children and the children of their own!" He looked at the Palace, never knowing if Firelord Zuko would ever hear his sudden outburst.

     "For this time, we'll clip his wings just as fast as ours had once been clipped." Qin's voice was biting, almost hurting. It was like poison was dripping from a viper's fangs while his pray thought they were safe. "We are watching!" His voice roared, "And we won't stay silent anymore."

     With his final words Qin pushed away the man that had forced him to talk, making his way away from this mess. All this time of silence and patience not to ever explode again had gone to waste. Even though he wanted change, Qin's heart still wasn't ready to get into yet another fight, past ghosts haunting him and memories dancing a weeping waltz in his head. But the venom he had spilled did cause a chain reaction, a rippling effect. The people behind him turned into an angry mob ready to scream at the top of their lungs their wishes to the newly-appointed Firelord.

     And as the chants persisted, Qin Lee pinned his eyes on the Palace, onyx stones trying to see the Firelord behind the walls. 'Be better. Please be different.' Qin thought to himself, putting his hood on and making his way through the rising tides of rioters and people looking for a new era of freedom.

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Good Omens Chibi Headcanons Part 3

Headcanons for when Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley interact with each other. (Got inspired by cute chibi fanarts I saw on here made by artists with the usernames asunnydisposish and kimmigawa.) THANK YOU TO @luna-sheep FOR READING THIS FOR ME!👍

Part1: https://enchantedchocolatebars.tumblr.com/post/186828312632/good-omens-chibi-headcanons-part-1

Part2: https://enchantedchocolatebars.tumblr.com/post/186898556182/good-omens-chibi-headcanons-part-2

Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley:

 • They mainly speak gibberish but they can sometimes say and use english words. Both their gibberish and english sound very cute!

 • Tiny ineffable husbands/friends!

 • Is it dumb luck? Yin and yang? Or the Almighty simply working in mysterious ways? Whatever it was, when Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley work together, there's nothing they can't do! Size isn't even an issue!

 • They have their own best friend handshake! (It's really cute and it ends with them making a hand heart with each other's hand.)

 • A best friend theme song that fits them perfectly is this! (https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=_jEsOxkT0iw)

 • And the song that describes their relationship is this! (https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=BnTthKo4bLg)

 • Chibi Aziraphale thinks that Chibi Crowley is sooo cool! He also finds him to be really fun as well! The demon has taught him so many fun, new exciting human games such as "tag", "hide and seek" and one game that Chibi Crowley likes to call "playing tricks on the mortals". With that game, the angel didn't mind playing along, s-so as long as the pranks they pulled were harmless and no humans got hurt or injured by them. (Oh, and when playing tag or hide and seek, Chibi Aziraphale had to be really careful cause sometimes Chibi Crowley would get really excited when playing and would end up using his powers which caused a bit of havoc. The demon was oblivious to the destruction he was causing.) Chibi Aziraphale really appreciates Chibi Crowley's kindness! Sure, the demon tried coming off as if he's not, but Chibi Crowley was always doing nice things for his angel friend.

 • Chibi Crowley likes Chibi Aziraphale's good natured personality since having it made it easier for him to tease and tempt his friend. While he enjoyed teasing and tempting the angel, the demon would never take it too far and often did it in a playful way. Chibi Crowley is also really glad that Chibi Aziraphale has a sweet tooth because now he's got someone to share his gummy snakes with! He knows that the angel was book smart due to him spending most of his time in the bookshop with Aziraphale, but he also knew that the celestial being was innocently unaware of certain earthly things. The demon remembers once having to explain to Chibi Aziraphale what a toaster was.

 • Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley put on a reenactment play about Aziraphale's and Crowley's friendship across the ages! They even wear costumes of the outfits that their big counterparts wore through those centuries. This was their first play so they had to make it something exciting, something classic, something that the audience would never forget! The performance was being held in the backroom of Aziraphale's bookshop. A toy theatre stage was set up on the table and Aziraphale, Crowley, and Chibi Aziraphale's Harry the Stuffed Rabbit plush were the audience. The lights in the room dim and the spotlights shine on the curtain. The curtain is then opened, and the show starts! When saying their lines, Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley used a mix of both gibberish and english. From the audience, Aziraphale acts like a supportive parent at their child's first ever school play cheering, applauding, and shrieking in utter excitement almost every time his chibi says or does something in a scene. This makes Chibi Aziraphale smile and wave at his big friend each time on stage. "He's so cute and talented, isn't he?" Aziraphale would whisper to Crowley, referring to Chibi Aziraphale. Did Crowley notice little errors, faults, and flaws in the play? Yes but...he just couldn't dislike it. He still appreciated the effort and dedication the two chibis put into it. I mean, the performances themselves weren't too bad, the sets, costumes, music and props seemed alright, and the two tiny entities did look like they were having alot of fun with the whole thing despite the very small audience. His favorite parts had to be seeing his chibi be over the top playing as him. It made him smile and he couldn't help but chuckle at the smaller demon's exaggerated acting. The play itself was just Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley trying their best to be accurate, but they end up making it their own cute, comedic remake due to most scenes being over the top and exaggerated, them adding in little random things that didn't exactly happen and them having characters who were also in certain eras ( like Adam and Eve, Jesus, Jean-Claude, Shakespeare, The Nazis, the group of thieves and criminals, etc.) as either small toys, small stuffed animals, small cardboard cutouts, chibi sized hand puppets or inanimate objects who they also sometimes had to play as/pretend to be. Some might say that it's impossible for a play to work with only two people in it, but somehow the chibis do, and it's very adorable.

 • Imagine them doing a reenactment of the entire show.

 • Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley had been to alot of fun places in London before, but their all time favorite place where they had the most fun had to be the fun fair. (The toy shop was their second favorite, the zoo was third and the sweet shop was fourth.) An over-excited Chibi Crowley appears in the book shop one day to show Chibi Aziraphale a really cool poster that he found that showed an advertisement for a fair that was in London and suggests that the two of them go! The demon's never been to an actual fair before, but he's seen tons of commercials for them on TV at the flat and they looked like alot of fun. The angel's never been to a fair before either, but the pictures on the poster did make the place seem like alot of fun. To him, the place looked like one big playground! He agrees to go, and when the two arrive there Chibi Aziraphale is immediately fascinated by everything! Seeing the extremely interested look on his friend's face makes Chibi Crowley smile as he takes the heavenly being's hand and leads him to the attractions. The two have a wonderful time riding the carousel horses/other small mechanical rides and bouncing up and down on the inflatable bouncy castle. After that, they go looking around for more fun things to do. Chibi Crowley spots a haunted house horror ride and gets an excited twinkle in his eye! The demon absolutely adores spooky things! Big spooky fan, him! (He gets it from Crowley.) Chibi Aziraphale on the other hand...not so much. Being that he's easily frightened by stuff, (especially scary stuff) the dark, creepy look of the attraction gave him goose bumps, and at first he wasn't willing to get on. Well, that is until Chibi Crowley somehow tempts him into going on the ride with him. Now riding the ride, Chibi Crowley was pumped, Chibi Aziraphale the exact opposite. On the angel's side, ghosts and ghouls pop up at him in a jumpscare fashion, making a loud, frightening sound, followed by zombies and spiders doing the same on Chibi Crowley's side, then a collection of monsters and other spooky things all around. Each display causes Chibi Aziraphale to squeal in fear while Chibi Crowley squealed in delight. The demon even made frightening noises back at the monsters. After the last display, Chibi Aziraphale is still a little scared, but he's very glad that the ride was finally over. In the house of mirrors, the two chibis were fascinated by the mirrors abilities to make their reflections appear big and tall! When they leave, Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley both see a photo booth. Excited, they rush inside the booth and take several photos. In the first photo, Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley smile, a halo filter above the short angel's head and a devil horns filter above the short demon's head with the captions reading "Best Buds!" "BFF's!" and "Literal Angels!" In the second photo, they both flex their muscles, and the caption reads "So Strong!" In the third photo, Chibi Aziraphale laughs as Chibi Crowley hangs upside down, tongue hanging out and eyes rolling crazily. The caption reads "Silly!" In the fourth photo, this time Chibi Aziraphale makes a silly face and Chibi Crowley is the one who laughs. The caption reads "Also silly!" In the fifth and final photo, Chibi Aziraphale smiles and holds up the peace sign and Chibi Crowley grins playfully while holding up bunny ears above the angel's head. Emoji heart filters surround them with a caption that reads "Ineffable babies!" At sunset, at a game booth, a dart is thrown and pops a balloon. A boy with a blue baseball cap has made the throw and ends up winning a prize for his girlfriend. Chibi Aziraphale points to a giant white teddy bear angel and wants for Chibi Crowley to win it for him. The little demon gives the angel a small nod and a thumbs up. He then uses his powers to launch all the darts and pops every single balloon. A loud bell rings and a "winner" sign lights up as Chibi Aziraphale cheers for Chibi Crowley. They win the bear and Chibi Aziraphale gives his demon buddy a big thank you hug. Chibi Crowley tries to hide his smile but can't. At night, the two are taking a stroll. Chibi Crowley was pulling a little red toy wagon that the giant angel teddy that he had won for Chibi Aziraphale was sitting in. As he looks up at the carnival lights, Chibi Aziraphale moves his hand towards Chibi Crowley's hand, gently takes it and begins holding it. The move catches little Crowley off guard, but he quickly smiles when he sees the angel is at ease. Feeling playful, the demon swings his held hand back and forth a bit. The two were heading towards the ferris wheel as their final ride. A fireworks show is in full swing! The sky was filled with them! Chibi Aziraphale, Chibi Crowley, and the teddy bear were sitting together in one of the ferris wheel cars watching the show. Chibi Aziraphale watches the show in complete amazement! This was his first time ever seeing fireworks before. When the angel asks Chibi Crowley what those beautiful bright coloured lights that kept making loud noises in the sky were, the demon says to him that they're called fireworks. He tells Chibi Aziraphale that big Crowley had once told him that fireworks were these giant explosions in the sky, and the reason they exploded was because they contained this stuff that the humans put inside it called gunpowder. Chibi Aziraphale sighs blissfully at the sky. He loves the earth so much, the planet was filled with so many amazing things! He hopes that one day he and Chibi Crowley will get to see all the wonderful things this world had.

[tentastic-yu-ki]

just pentagon things

(with links to stuff !!)

this took me so long to make heheh but i hope you like it !! <3

jinho

v o c a l s from the gods

god herself cast her hands upon him and now he has the voice of a million angels

doing ALL the parts in bohemian rhapsody bc of course

HIGH NOTES

grandpa #1

a lil bean :’)

fake maknae

his fluffy bangs during naughty boy era are on the list of my favorite things ever

his cheeks y’all

ok but he looks eerily similar to jiheon from fromis_9 when they smile idk if i’m the only one who sees it but

whenever he does the little wave thingy you know what i’m talking about

he sings in fluent english and it makes my heart flutter every. single. time.

lowkey done with the rest of the members but loves them so much

yuto lifting him up at the end of naughty boy relay dance is basically that one scene from the lion king

tbh the members are always lifting him up and it’s precious

his lil cape during shine

hui

hwitaek in general is just bsidjsbdhdb

such a good leader :’)

i have no talent

mr hwitaek has all the talent

if i’m lucky some of mr hwitaeks talent may rub off on me

i just ?? love him ??!

his piano playing in the gorilla acoustic video makes me weak in the knees

pentagon of leader

y’all remember his twin brother manuel

i play jazz piano and holy shit i could only hope to gain half the talent he has in his hands alone let alone his vOICE

grandpa #2

i have so much appreciation for him and i look up to him a whole lot as a musician i just don’t know how to express my love

critical beauty was his era bitches

constantly being corrected by hongseok

such a groovy ass mf

lee hwitaek vs the english language

he is gorgeous !??!? kills me with his gaze

smile needs more appreciation

he killed it in triple h especially his vocals in 365 fresh

jangjigi jangjigi jang jang jang

hongseok

muscles

ABS :0

‘can i have a bite’ lmao

the group mom

but he’s a cool mom

his eyes are so frickin adorable :’)

absolutely hilarious oh my god

good ass storyteller

two words: his. lips.

his laugh is precious guys like i can’t

this video from the real man

when he shaved his hair off before the real man 300

hongseok x jinho ?? cute as hell

just lovely

such an underappreciated member

i stg whenever he speaks english it’s either to correct somebody, say hi to international fans, or its something completely ridiculous and i love it

e’dawn

y e l l i n g

he and hyuna being a power couple

Y E L L I N G

popping dancing

owned the gorilla era imo

Y E L L I N G

!! tattoos !!

a whole plant dad

his hairstyle suits him so well omg

did i mention yelling

i wish the best for him (and hyuna) and he’ll always be a part of pentagon in our hearts <3

his eyes when he smiles :’))))

video of him yelling in case you don’t know what i’m talking about

also this

I MISS HIM

S U P P O R T H I M or i’m coming for u

also support p nation !!

shinwon

hot shinwon yeah u want ?!

the visual

like the man is a whole model

i kinda just want to sit and have tea with him he seems like that kind of friend

his legs are so underrated

his breathy laugh is amazing

probably slowly losing his patience with the members

when i first got into pentagon i was like hm he seems like the mature one

but none of them are the mature one

booger

VOICE CRACK OF THE CENTURY

we will never forget

it seems like in fanfics he’s always some sort of ceo or manager or fashion designer and i’m here for it

always providing quality content whether he realizes it or not

always providing quality content whether we realize it or not

trying to make food while hui was asleep and then realizing he didn’t have chopsticks

his name is actually shinpon excuse you

absolutely losing his shit during the sha la la don’t smile challenge (13:11)

can you really blame him tho it was funny as hell

screaming + running in fear? shinwon invented that.

yeo one

he cares so much about universe :’)

compilation of him asking universe if we’ve eaten today because he cares

him almost kicking himself in the face that one time i can’t find the video agh

super lovable and wholesome

ok but his teeth

his smile is just so pretty ???

boi is drop dead gorgeous

so pure and just HKSNSBSJS

his asmr videos? yes king

he really expected me to sit there for almost an hour listening to him whisper the members names over and over?

and he was right because i did

yeo one makes me feel the same things i did when i saw bubbles in the air at disney world for the first time

he’s just like that

boyfriend material

HOW DARE I ALMOST FORGET THE SPONGEBOB IMPRESSIONS

saRANGhaeYOoOoo~

the boy is hilarious

yanan

aNNYEONG CHINGUDEUL

he just reminds me of a whole bottle of sprinkles yknow

like if rainbow sprinkles were a person

it’s yanan and yanan only

high note battle with jinho

he’s tol but his voice is smol

“don’t talk with me”

earrings lmao

probably smells like vanilla tbh

‘can you please edit this out?’

he’s literally gonna give me cavities with his sweetness

just from looking at pics of him

i like don’t even know what to say he’s just a ball of sunshine :’)))

so sweet i could put him in my coffee

he deserves so much more that he gets

sUCH A SWEET SOUL UGH~!

i’m running out of ways to reiterate that yanan deserves all the love in the world

y’all better appreciate him or i’m coming for u and ur whole family

he’s just out here chillin, his smile making the world a better place

my uwus? gone. snatched if you will

yuto

it’s ya boy toto

Y U T O D A

him being spooked by ghost stories

cLINGY !!!!!

two words: back. hugs.

i want a yuto hug hmph :((

his laugh is so cute i just-

him being spooked by the dark

NICO NICO NIIII~

his guy-fieri-reminiscent shirt

(you know the one)

him being spooked in general

i will protect this boy with my LIFE

we need more yuto aegyo

but also his visuals make me spontaneously combust

somebody call the fire brigade yknow

when he had the eyebrow slit i cried

im at a loss for how to express my love for adachi yuto

can i have his dangly earrings pls thanks

he’s always feeding everybody it’s so cute

our nagano boy :’)

cough excuse me i had something in my throat i meant our nagano pRINCE

this video of his ‘high note’ and wink never fails to make me laugh

he reminds me of this guy ive had a crush on for a long while ?? like personalitywise they’re oddly similar,, he’s cute n shy but also tall and vv clingy ??? and he recently started doing his hair differently and it’s literally yutos hairstyle i almost stopped breathing ok

also his hugs feel like what i imagine a yuto hug would feel like and i only realized it just now as i’m writing this

kino

he’s my little honeybunch cinnamon apple sugarplum gumdrop babyboy

i just love kang hyunggu a whole lot if you can’t tell by um

the rest of my blog

my profile image

my lockscreen ffs

do i even need to say that he’s my bias

duality? he invented that.

hyunggu being a cutie patootie vs kino being rUDE AS HELL

like he’s a grape juice box and a whole ass bottle of fine wine yknow what i mean

the lace blindfold ?? somebody pinch me

knnovation

i mean have y’all heard voicegasm ??

he did that shit

he’s under arrest for stealing my heart~

(and my uwus)

i don’t even need to say it bc y’all already know but he’s the dance KING

the violet bby

“he’s sensitive”

when hyojong changed the number song lyrics to joke about him being sensitive (2:25)

when he wears big sweaters :’)

i miss his lil ponytail during naughty boy

ppl never talk about this but he’s surprisingly good at languages ?!?

his laugh is one of my favorite sounds on the planet

that one move in can you feel it (01:55 in the mv) gets me every. single. time.

the kino list is long but i just have so much love for this boy

wooseok

he a long boi

HIS DIMPLE

i cant find the vid but there’s this one moment at a fansign or something where he just stepped over the table like it was a completely normal thing to do ?!???!?

HIS FACE IS SO VISUALLY PLEASING

i keep getting shocked over and over about how generally handsome he is

any hair works on him like ??? magic ?!?

screaming during lost paradise

and most songs

and most of the time anyway

i love him lots and lots tho

can pull off the goth look

can pull off the emo look

can pull off any look

he belongs in an opera lmfaooo

E X T R A

BUNNY BUNNY WOOSEOK WOOSEOK

his acrostic poems

i’m a star ? that shit sLAPS

this boy is carrying the entire rap industry on his bACK

i’m sad that i cant think of more stuff for wooseokie

[ohhicas]

I've only been into comics for a few years, but I've read enough of the old Flash stuff where I adore the classic incarnations of the Rogues. Honestly curious here: what's it like to be a fan of James Jesse back when he was retgonned around 10 years ago and see him brought back but now all mwahaha crazy evil? I'm way more used to Axel (and all that off-panel character development in Nu52, thanks DC) but even I find this kinda weird. Was James ever crazy evil in any arc?

^- me 90% of the time someone says James is coming back to recent media & it’s not a direct continuation of the comics prior to 2004

[ Warning: this is gonna get long and be full of a lot of assumptions. I can never form solid statements and things will get jumbled, because I suck at presenting things ]

[ this is my can of worms hill and you opened it so I’m dYING HERE ]

I mean, back in the earliest ages, no Rogue had a real personality to speak of? They were just “1960s Bad Guy in a different outfit” at the very start, with quirks! Like James having a thing for toys and nuclear powered flying tricycles. It wasn’t until that era ended that they started getting real distinct and into what a lot of ‘classic’ James fans loved and appreciated? 

(I think at least, I’m just One Person here pretending like I even understand HALF of what the ‘classic’ fandom enjoyed. I’m wildly speculating just going off what fanworks I’ve seen produced.)

(I don’t have all my scans anymore but I’ll toss in scans when I have them)

But that’s when we started getting things like James actually having specified friendships with certain people

or clear distaste towards others, and when you could tell he was more of a wild card than the others. Or when he decided to fuck off and hang out in Hollywood with Blue Devil for a bit, even siding with Kid Devil to deck out Captain Boomerang. 

Or when he decided to fuck off to Gotham, to mess with Catwoman by pretending he didn’t know who she was, but absolutely knew who she was because of how she walked and carried herself, but James being James was like “mmmmm long con, nope”

hey lil Cold, gimme all ur guns and don’t question why I’m in drag xoxo

Even then, he wasn’t shown to be vicious yet! He’d hopped around various places, was still considered A Rogue, A Criminal, and as far as any comic reader could tell by trying to count up how many civilians may have been crossfired at, he had no On Purpose deaths racked? Like, the only thing you could really argue was he may have made someone drive their car off a cliff once, but I’m like 98% sure they’re fine. He’s not a murderer, he’s just here for a laugh and a long-con for funsies because he know he can get away with it!

AND THEN WE GET A LITTLE OLDER, LITTLE DARKER

[ I’M PUTTING A CUT HERE CAUSE AFTER I THREW IT INTO DRAFTS, I REALIZED I GOT REALLY LONG, I’M SORRY IF MY LAYOUT SUCKS ASS FOR THIS. ]

little more 90s Hair. Little more 90s stereotypical “But what if EVERYONE WENT TO HELL” demon plots against Satanic Hockey Hair Neron. And James? still wasn’t evil? He was a little dismissive when everyone ELSE died sure but he still in the end turned around like “nghgng I’m THE ONLY ONE”, purposely got his ass down there, regretted it, and then beat Neron at his own game to save the entire fucking world. Because! He could! And he did it so well. STILL NOT EVIL, even when he had a chance right then and there to take over everything alongside Neron should he so desire. Like, two words, maybe some under the table BJs depending on how you feel about that pairing (I don’t), and bam. He would’ve bested nearly any other villain in the DCU save like, Satan himself. Or i guess one of those world destroyers. But we’ll get back around to those BOY HOWDY WE WILL GET AROUND TO THOSE. 

So James! Saves! The world! Sorta! Later they fight Neron again and his kid he somehow had somewhere down the road (it sounds like I’m complaining, i’m not, I love Billy and Mindy both I just wish they showed up like… ever again?) and he sTILL SAVES EVERYONE. 

Piper helps by their 90s ponytails combined. 

Somewhere around here, because dates and timing aren’t my strong suit, he also goes and messes with Bart for a bit. It’s pretty much a Spy Vs Spy episode, but with less bloodshed. 

ANYWAY IT’S AFTER THIS POINT THAT THINGS GET… where I think the majority of “James is a Low Rate Joker” comes from? 

For some unknown goddamn reason, in between issues (James wasn’t a Super Frequent Rogue? He’d show up, sure, but in the huge run of the series he’d just kind of vanish for 20 issues at a time and you’d go “welp, guess he’s still alive”) James went super-cop? like, the FBI? For some reason? Hired James “I am a probably still wanted felon, a man who has escaped jail numerous times, probably never served a full sentence, known Trickster and liar” Jesse. to the FBI. And for so many issues it’s like he legit just. Did this. He threatens to shoot Piper who he was up until this very moment, considerably very close friends with (as far as comics would show Rogue/Rogue friendships), unwilling to help his friend clearly framed for murder of his parents and losing his mind by the day. Despite James talking Hart down a little on the whole ‘THE MAYOR IS ROSCOE ADN NOBODY BELIEVES MEEEEEEEE” thing. 

Also he steals Digger’s dead ass corpse? 

FBI James is a fucking enigma. Here he is standing up for Gay Rights even though Piper is like “mm maybe I should forgive my abuser??”

BUT. AFTER THIS? WE GET COUNTDOWN WHICH IS JUST. Countdown is. IT’s a problem. James’s personality is IMMEDIATELY HORRIBLY u-turned into “well we need SOMEONE to be the Bad Guy to Piper’s Good!” DESPITE. ALL THESE YEARS OF COMICS.This is the shit you’ll see people who don’t know better or just want a reason to hate the Trickster (despite being 100% okay for them to just say he’s annoying/they don’t like his tights/acrobats are stupid) reference. James is, suddenly, very abruptly, a homophobe. Like an “ew don’t touch me” level homophobe because I’m pretty sure DC snorts cocaine and threw a dart at a board for “how could they make these two fight” and landed on GAY RIGHTS IS TRENDING. 

BUTSTILL IN THE FUCKING END OF ALL OF THIS?After so many issues of James being a complete fuckass prick? 

springboards himself from his current job of being railroad face putty to catching bullets to make sure Piper wasn’t gonna die. Without knowing the proceedings of this entire plotline, James out of nowhere after so much gaybashing, still finds it in him to leap into the path of multiple bullets and save Piper. Because, yknow, he’s evil!

Later it’s shown he’s been working to take everyone down (y’know, like when he was in the FBI) and left Piper specific helpful notes to do it himself. Because Evil Bad Guy! Helping his gone-good friend! Take down bad guys! 

DC I STILL HAVE SO MANY GODDMAN QUESTOINgsd

But yeah that’s. That’s where we last saw James. in 2007, dead, after saving Piper when he could have easily pulled a Joker and ripped HIM down to take hte bullets and etcetc, y’know. Something a Very Bad Person would’ve done, like the characterization we’ve seen now. 

His ghost (easily argued as Piper’s own mental construction of James sassing him) sasses Hartley to even, in his mental state, saw off James’s hand so Piper doesn’t have to lug his weight around and has a fighting chance at living. And in the end, when Piper’s fighting the thing that can destroy the fucking world, it’s shown only Piper was the one who could save them? Because his flute, and his musical ability, and [enter DC comic science here]. You could argue this was James, once again, somehow knowing the long-con at play here, getting screwed over at EVERY turn, and sacrificing himself so they ‘good’ team had a fighting chance.You could also argue this is me losing my mind trying to make sense of the things they made James do. (my running argument is he was purposely a prick to push Piper away, so he could keep him safe) 

Also Piper plays James a Swan Song of Queen as the final boss explodes and he’s fully prepared to die. So like. There’s that. 

AND THATS BASICALLY THE COMICS? The main, ‘canon timeline’ comics. I’m missing a LOT of little things here and there, but I’m not missing anything like body counts, or murder attempts, beyond the old Silver Age “Bad guy of the week” things like trying to make Flash’s head explode, or you know. Other “nobody really has a personality, we just have quirks”. 

MY NUMBER ONE GUESS TO WHERE THIS NEW PERSONALITY TREND COMES FROM?

Mark Hamil|’s OG run as him in the old live action show. That characterization was fun, for the time, and I even enjoyed it cause it was just that off the wall and you could tell it was what they used to decide he should be the Joker for the BATS Joker. Consider it a prototype (combined with all the previous comic jokers but that’s not for this long ass post) 

And if it’d stayed there, that’d be it! That’s it! But then JLU came along, and they referenced the old show for their version of James with a sprinkling of early-era comics, and a lot of people loved and watched that show. That was their version of the Trickster, because it was their first meeting with him! And I can’t fault that! But that guy was clearly off his rocker and I’m sure if the JLU allowed a higher rating, it would’ve been even closer to the old TV show. 

And both of THOSE were heavily, heavily referenced for the CW version, which as I’m at this point now means I need to slap my usual anti-CW tag onto things. I hate the CW James. There is so little comic in him it’s almost disgusting, and they ramped up so much of the Joker side of JLU & OGTV he might as well just be the Joker. It’s not a good representation of him at all. I have, also, only seen his first appearance episode, so maybe I’m wrong? But when you fuck up hard on the first run, why would I return for round 2? 

So with ALL THIS– 

REBOOT TIME. Whatever the newnew remake is calling itself. 

At first! With how James was! In the first panel flash of him clearly behind the scenes tugging so many wires and lines, watching everything with a bucket of popcorn while pulling others to his side, sitting pretty in an old museum? warehouse? highlighted in purples and vintage toys, I was like “holy shit this it. This is My Boy, back from the goddamn limbo-dead. It’s him.” But then“taking over the city entirely” to do? What? Turn it into the world’s biggest Trickster themepark? Make everyone wear striped leggings and combat boots? Martial Law of murder if you don’t carry rubber chickens? This is already veering from anything major James has ever done. As it stands I can’t see the gag here. Its’ weirdly dark and edgy, and way too close to something we saw the 90s TV show Trickster do, in the episode where he basically took over the place. The previews show him being what I’m assuming a Judge, Jury, & Executioner joke– and unless this spins into a Clopin song and dance number and his little hand puppet crops up to slam the button on the guillotine, I’m not having it, DC. 

They’re trying to tie him back into the CW, despite the writer saying he really enjoyed the Neron-era things with James (if I’m remembering the interview correctly). And it’s also why you may see me constantly saying “Well I sure as fuck hope Neron shows up” at anything new that’s released, to explain away all of… this.

This isn’t him. If they wanted a murderous Trickster, they should’ve just used Axel. The kid, canonly, tied explosives to stray dogs and homeless people. AXEL is the not-good Trickster, the murderous Trickster, the one you aren’t suppose to feel sorry for beyond being in way over his head due to his young age. 

i think I somehow didn’t answer your question

TL;DR

it sucks? it’s also great because there’s a .5% chance that maybe they’ll do it right and won’t reference the fucking 90s noncomic media. But then they do. And all I can do is laugh and shrug like ‘welp I expected nothing’. But when they get it RIGHT it’s like christmas came early.

[salavante]

Aesop 29 or the Helmsman

(I’ve drawn his floating head a lot, so here’s him with his hood up, which I draw less) Also formal apology because I think like maybe no more than four people who follow me play Destiny, so a couple things may sound a little esoteric. I’d suggest checking out the Ishtar Collective (links to offsite) if I refer to something unfamiliar. 

Full Name: Aesop-29

Gender and Sexuality: Male and Homosexual.

Pronouns: He/Him.

Ethnicity/Species: Exo, from the little crop of Destiny fancharacters that I have.

Birthplace and Birthdate: Unknown factor. But Aesop was found by his Ghost in the middle of nowhere, in a southwestern state that I have not chosen yet. Arizona, Texas, Colorado and Southern California are all candidates. Aesop has just a little bit of a Texan accent. 

Guilty Pleasures: Aesop is trying to learn how to play guitar and is really bad at it, making him very shy and nervous about his attempts. Similarly, Aesop enjoys singing, but usually does it when no one else is around - because no one else has really heard him sing before, it is a well kept secret between him and his Ghost that he’s actually pretty good. I personally like to keep the list of music that he likes to the 50’s-60’s bracket to match the kind of retrofuturistic style that the Golden Age tech in Destiny has. We the viewer read it as being ‘old’, even if it’s much, MUCH older than we realize because the setting is far future. That’s really all that matters, that we recognize it as being antiquated. His favorite of the very small pool of albums he has access to are Marty Robbins’ “Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs” and Nancy Sinatra’s “Boots” and “Sugar”. Sojourn teases him about it and has thusly introduced him to the feeling of shame. He also likes drinking alcohol even if it doesn’t actually make him drunk. Sometimes he does it out of spite. Someone you don’t like? Pound his drink right in front of him and walk away.

Phobias: Aesop’s kinda agoraphobic - he feels trapped and panicked in enclosed areas with lots of people, can be overstimulated by large groups of people talking/making a lot of noise. This makes him mostly useless in large-scale conflicts. He has managed to curb some of this by being accompanied by Sojourn or Calico to areas or situations that are high risk (whether that means a combat scenario or just going to The City), but this can get squirrely because Calico doesn’t have a ghost anymore and if killed would die permanently, and Sojourn has a tendency to get worked up in a fight and leave him behind on accident. If everything goes well though, Aesop is perfectly functional fighting in the small group that is his fireteam - himself, Sojourn (exo warlock) and King (human titan). His ghost, Chanticleer, can also sometimes talk him down if he’s starting to spin up into a panic attack. It’s something that he wants to fix, but, existing within the confines of your anxiety is a cold comfort that he indulges in. In general, he’s a very anxious person with a lot of existential dread, but he puts on a clownish, brazen act and hopes people don’t notice.

What They Would Be Famous For: Honestly, probably something very mundane, like breaking a dopey Guinness-style record or something like that. The entire point of Aesop is that he is very average in his skills in a world of blisteringly powerful space wizards and the like. I find his challenges are more about what goals he sets for himself and if those goals conflict with the status quo. Does his worth need be defined by how good he is at killing things vs. is the pursuit of personal wellness and happiness selfish in the context of a world fighting for its survival. Can these things coexist. etc.  

What They Would Get Arrested For: Probably something relatively benign done for the sake of pulling a dangerous stunt in the name of fun or looking cool. If he was a regular ass human in a normal modern setting, probably taking a nice vintage car for a joyride.

OC You Ship Them With: Aesop will have a love interest in the comic canon, but I’m gonna keep that under my hat for awhile yet. It’s not Cayde though, Cayde is dad. If Amanda Holliday was a man, he’d be utterly and entirely in love, but, alas. He’s still infatuated with her platonically though, and thinks she has pretty much the coolest job in the world. A promise of visiting her is a good way to entice him into going to The City.

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: When death is not a factor, this becomes less of an issue, hah. Aesop and his bff Sojourn have killed each other a number of times in training, to an almost nonchalant degree. Aesop has also been killed much more in training, by his fireteam’s resident titan, King. Aesop will also find a rival in a local Fallen pike gang, the leader of which has the placeholder name of Easy Rider. I also have a Cabal villain I am throwing around and trying to decide if they’ll stick, but I need to do a lot more work and research on that. They’re my least favorite enemy type mechanically, but I think they could make perfectly acceptable antagonists in a narrative. 

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Aesop does not read. He can, he just doesn’t. I think maybe, MAYBE, someone could get him to read comic books, but those aren’t very sturdy and I feel like the amount of intact physical copies at this point would be almost nothing. The pool of movies and media that he has available to him are very sparse, but he absolutely drowns himself in spaghetti westerns, and would probably also like trashy action movies if they were available to him. I also think he would like Grease, HAHA. It has cars and guys in leather jackets singing in it. He’d also probably like any kind of rustic, western themed musical. And anything with cars in it would have his immediate interest no matter how bad it is, but he’d zone out in any parts he doesn’t like. 

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: To be honest I think most of the time, movies are a little too long for him and lose his interest partway through. He has a really short attention span and anything too long, complicated or artsy will lose him and he’ll start being fidgety and chatty and start making his boredom everyone else’s problem. Even if there’s a movie he likes, if there’s a part that’s boring to him, he zones out. He probably watches the same 2-3 movies over and over again, which is fine because his available library of media is probably really small. I like to think that they probably have movies in some kind of archive that they put up publicly in The City every once in awhile, like they have a projector that puts it on the side of a building and people just bring chairs and shit. Aesop has an aforementioned fear of crowds but he probably does some hunter parkour bullshit and perches somewhere at a healthy distance to watch from afar, as long as it’s something he thinks he would like. If he doesn’t he gets up and leaves.

Talents and/or Powers: Aesop seems to have an interest in vehicles, but due to a bet with his mentor, Calico, he has not actually been taught how to drive a Sparrow and so pines for them from afar. As said, he’s learning how to play an instrument, and if we want to be technical, is a Gunslinger speced Hunter with the Golden Gun super. He is very bad at being stealthy, as he is very impatient and is also a little bigger than the average exo. He’s just kinda tall and wide and tends to clunk around. If his Ghost Chanticleer wasn’t as clever as she was, Aesop would probably be perma-dead by now.

Why Someone Might Love Them: He’s kind of a dumbass and a space cadet but has the potential to be very sweet, and the people he cares about, he latches on to really hard. Similarly, when set to a task he cares about, he does not quit. Unfortunately, many of his goals are unresolved, but it does not mean that he will stop trying. If he were to, say, become romantically interested in someone, he would go to great lengths to connect with him, even if it meant doing things Aesop himself may not like. In specific circumstances, Aesop may find that he has a great capacity for nurturing and bringing out the best in other people, a talent Aesop himself undervalues. Though he’s not all that intelligent, Aesop is very reflective and existentially inquisitive, and thinks about a lot of big picture stuff that other people might push aside in an era of crisis. Though he may not understand science or the way the world works in a mechanical sense, he is awed by it, and is a great appreciator of natural beauty. He’d cry at a particularly beautiful sunrise, if he could cry. I’d say he could be described as having a romantic soul.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: To be honest, Aesop has trouble establishing empathy with people he doesn’t know very well, and so is less invested in Earth’s plight than he probably should be (it would not be hard for Dead Orbit to sway him to their views). This makes some people think that he doesn’t take his charge seriously, and they also usually assume that he’s a slacker because he’s plateaued in his abilities so early. Really, Aesop is acutely socially anxious, can have panic attacks in large crowds, and generally prefers to stay away from The City unless he needs to go there, and so has a big emotional disconnect from it. Calico and Chanticleer have tried to get him more accustomed to groups, but has been thusfar mostly unsuccessful. His insecurity and anxiety also cause him to pull odd, dangerous stunts to prove his worth, making him unreliable and impulsive. He can bungle social interactions rather spectacularly, and is easily goaded into doing really stupid shit. Really, he is a person who may just be “too much” for some.

How They Change: Oooooghhh….I can’t talk about this. I forgot how frustrating it is to not be able to talk about things because you’re going to make a comic out of it. Suffice it to say he’s gonna change a lot.

Why You Love Them: I think Aesop encapsulates a lot of anxieties I have post-college. Aesop is a person in transition who is unsure of his future, knowing only that he can’t quit now, because quitting means failure and failure means death. Because he is in transition, he is anxious about forming relationships with people, worried that either he will be left behind by them, or that they won’t like him when he’s “finished” becoming a person. I think he has a complex relationship with his personhood and sense of self. I dunno, I think that’s an interesting anxiety for a protagonist to have. I am also interested to see what Aesop will end up contributing to his society/organization and his interpersonal relationships, and if he’ll be happy with it. I’ve put a lot of work into him, the ‘original Aesop’ I had in mind might as well be a completely different character now. Aesop was originally a little cameo that I did in our TTRPG game, Godslaughter, because my boyfriend had put a dunmer cameo character into our game and I wanted to return the favor. Then he made a sheet for him. Then I decided to keep him around, then I decided to play Destiny 2, then I decided I loved it, lol. There is still a version of Aesop in the TTRPG but he is so incredibly different, they may as well be different characters. We refer to him as “Bad Aesop” but should probably call him something more dignified (we won’t).

[theonyxpath]

I could certainly use some pax right now. Lots of stuff going on and ugh… still feeling kind of yucky, but trying to force whatever this is to get it over with by PAX Unplugged starting this Wednesday (for us). Lots of vitamins and NyQuil! Whoooo!

But even if I’m a walking mess at the con, we’re going to have a great crew there in Booth #650, and doing demos. If you are going, here’s a map for our booth:

And it’s possibly the fever, but watching James Bell do most of the heavy lifting and pulling things together for the Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition Kickstarter has been kind of strange. Very, very glad to both have someone to take all that over from me and to have him doing it so well and adding some cool elements I never thought of to the mix. But odd to see someone else do what I’ve done for, what?, five years now?

I’m like a ghost over here watching it come together. Whoooooo, James, whoooooo!

Very much looking forward to all your reactions tomorrow at 12 noon EST, Tuesday the 14th, when this Changeling: The Lost 2nd Kickstarter goes live! Here’s a clue: for every thing, there is a ______.

    W20 Changing Ways art by Brian LeBlanc

    Hey! If you are playing “Santa Paws” this year, may we suggest you pick up some copies of Pugmire for your pack of kiddies? Ask your Friendly Local Game Store to order it now so you get it by the holidays, or go direct and order from Studio2 or Indy Press Revolution (contact info below in the BLURBS! section).

It’s the perfect game to get your family and friends involved in our wacky hobby!

      W20 Changing Ways art by William O’Brien

    So this is the long form essay. Feel free to hit THE BLURBS! section below!

A few weeks ago, or a few months – the NyQuil, y’know – I posted about our developer focused creative teams and how we are both driven by the teams and have been evolving how those work. Developers are the project leads and for many years we followed the WW-style of having developers that were responsible for the entire game line. They would be “show runners” or “head writers” in other creative industries. Today, I’d like to go back through the dim mists of time to when I first started Onyx Path, and kind of show how our present system got to where we are.

We really have to go back in time a bit further, to the scary and shadowy CCP days. (Don’t worry, they are just memories now, and can’t hurt you).

There were only a few of us still working on tabletop RPGs, and I was more of a cheerleader and advocate than actively working on products, and our freelance pool of developers and writers had shrunk dramatically as the release schedule was reduced to a trickle compared to the three products a week pace of years gone past. Then came our work on what was supposed to be a one-off anniversary RPG book: Vampire: The Masquerade 20th Anniversary Edition.

Eddy Webb and I had convinced the bosses to let us run a “Transmedia” department for CCP based on the success of V20, and we actually had a tabletop RPG release schedule and everything, as well as some projects we were working on for the EVE teams. Because of how we were budgeted, we were actually the only part of the US office making money, as everybody else was part of the spending on the late, lamented, WoD MMO.

So naturally, the Transmedia Group became just a happy memory in the midst of mass-layoffs.

But before I jumped ship in the face of those layoffs to start-up Onyx Path, we had begun to work with a variety of freelance writer and developers again. It was these folks I needed to continue working with for the projects now being created by Onyx Path. Some were experienced from the WW days, some had only developed a couple of books. Eddy had to step back because CCP wanted his full attention on the MMO, so we scrambled to cover the projects we thought he’d develop, and Justin Achilli stepped up for our new V20 books.

In addition, because of our long relationships, I was able to bring Ethan Skemp in on W20, Phil Satyr Brucato in on M20, and Rich Dansky in on Wraith20. The classic developers on their classic lines, was my thinking.

Ethan had to duck out though as he landed a new gig in a different computer game company, and Stew Wilson stepped up. He was the first of the new developers who were actually fans of the old developers for WoD. This sort of “second generation” of developers was already a thing with Exalted 3rd, and CofD (or nWoD as it was known then) with Rose Bailey and others developing, and it seemed both natural and cool that we had this sort of legacy of creators working together.

My expectation was that the newbies would learn from the experienced devs the ins and out of our processes, which were almost identical to those used at old WW, which worked well for us to a large extent, but I was wrong. The diffused nature of our virtual office was, and is, such that institutional knowledge doesn’t get passed on at all in the way I was used to from the WW days. Once we realized this, Rose began to help out our devs, and eventually her position was solidified into that of Development Producer – a term we stole from the computer game biz for a person that helps enable creators to succeed with their projects.

With Rose in place to help, we were able to better respond when our “elder” developers began to step back or away for various reasons. New developers were brought in, but now we had the experience and the leeway to select our devs with an idea for how they might be able to fit into the way we do things and who are more in tune with our company ethos. We were also able to draw from a much wider and varied pool than the folks I knew at the beginning of Onyx Path, and that variety of input, backgrounds, and experiences makes for richer projects.

We’re not perfect, and we’ve brought on developers that we needed to stop hiring for projects for a variety of reasons. We do try and offer assistance before that decision to stop working with them is made, but there are just some situations we can’t salvage.

So you see, the entire history of project creation at Onyx Path is one of evolution.

Together with ideas from our developers and writers, we expanded and redefined our developer and writer payment rates and schedules early this year, and are experimenting with “floating” experienced developers who can assist the other devs in a hands-on way. Generally, we’re finding that the lone developer in the ivory tower with their cadre of writers may not be the best set-up for creating tabletop RPGs these days.

For some projects, a vision developer and a production developer may be a valid method of dividing the essential duties, for others perhaps a triad of a spearheading logistics developer and two devs freed up to focus on the writers, or maybe a systems dev and a setting dev, and sometimes having one developer is just the right set-up. We’re now at the point of being able to look at a project and try and provide a creative solution to creating it, rather than being stuck with looking for the one solution from a decade, or more, ago that will work for every problem now.

Ultimately, we’ve been extraordinarily lucky to work with some absolutely amazing folks and we want our internal processes and project set-ups to enable them to shine, so we keep evolving them in ways we hope will make that happen. We’re not at the destination, we’re still on the journey. Still on the path.

Many Worlds. One Path.

  BLURBS!

KICKSTARTER:

Right now, Tuesday the 14th at noon EST is looking good! If things get weird, we’ll fall back to Thursday the 16th. See you there!

Next, our Trinity Continuum Kickstarter will start in early January – since it makes no sense to start a KS mid-December!

  ON SALE NOW:

As we try and find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is now live! Here are the links for the Apple and Android versions:

http://ift.tt/2zjnD0c

http://ift.tt/2hhT5Fk

This morning there were already multiple tweaks applied in the Update that were brought about by feedback from our community! Thanks, folks!

    ON AMAZON AND BARNES & NOBLE:

We’re delighted to announce the opening of our ebook stores on Amazon and Barnes & Noble! You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble). Our initial selection includes these fiction anthologies:

Vampire: The Masquerade: The Endless Ages Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: Rites of Renown: When Will You Rage II (Kindle, Nook)

Mage: The Ascension: Truth Beyond Paradox (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: The God-Machine Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Mummy: The Curse: Curse of the Blue Nile (Kindle, Nook)

Beast: The Primordial: The Primordial Feast Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

  And here are six more fiction books:

Vampire: The Masquerade: Of Predators and Prey: The Hunters Hunted II Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: The Poison Tree (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: Songs of the Sun and Moon: Tales of the Changing Breeds (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Requiem: The Strix Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Forsaken: The Idigam Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Mage: The Awakening: The Fallen World Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

  Andand six more more:

Vampire: The Masquerade: The Beast Within Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: W20 Cookbook (Kindle, Nook)

Exalted: Tales from the Age of Sorrows (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: Tales of the Dark Eras (Kindle, Nook)

Promethean: The Created: The Firestorm Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Demon: The Descent: Demon: Interface (Kindle, Nook)

  And even more books are now on Amazon and the Nook store!:

Scarred Lands: Death in the Walled Warren (Kindle, Nook)

V20 Dark Ages: Cainite Conspiracies (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: Strangeness in the Proportion (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Requiem: Silent Knife (Kindle, Nook)

Mummy: The Curse: Dawn of Heresies (Kindle, Nook)

    OUR SALES PARTNERS:

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the Screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there!

http://ift.tt/2w0aaEW

    Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Here’s the link to the press release we put out about how Onyx Path is now selling through Indie Press Revolution: http://ift.tt/1ZlTT6z

You can now order wave 2 of our Deluxe and Prestige print overrun books, including Deluxe Mage 20th Anniversary, and Deluxe V20 Dark Ages! And Screens…so many Screens!

And you can now order Pugmire: the book, the screen, and the dice! http://ift.tt/1pOsnTb

    DRIVETHRURPG.COM:

Appearing on Wednesday on DriveThruRPG is the Advance PDF for Arms of the Chosen for Exalted 3rd Edition!

Take up the panoply of legendary heroes and lost ages, and awaken the world-shaking might of their Evocations. Before the dawn of time, the Exalted wielded god-metal blades to cast down the makers of the universe. In an ancient epoch of forgotten glories, Creation’s greatest artificers forged unimaginable wonders and miracle-machines.

Now, in the Age of Sorrows, kingdoms go to war over potent artifacts, scavenger princes risk everything to uncover relics of the past, and the Exalted forge great arms and armor on the anvil of legend. These treasures are yours to master.

Discover the mystical power of the five magical materials and the secrets of creating your own Evocations. Wield weapons of fabled might and don the armor of mythic heroes, making their puissance your own. Claim Creation’s wonders: the miraculous tools of the Chosen, living automatons, flying machines, hearthstones, and more. And unleash the mighty warstriders, titanic god-engines of conquest and devastation, to once more shake Creation with their footfalls.

      NOW on DriveThruCards, the Pugmire Card Set One (Trick, Condition, and Initiative Cards) are helpful visual aids for your Pugmire gaming fun! http://ift.tt/2zC3kuY

Enhance your Pugmire game with this set of player aid cards! These helpful visual aids make your Pugmire gaming easier! Lay them out next to your sheet for ease of reference during play, and to keep track of what you can do, what affects your character, and when they get to act.

Set one contains one card each of every trick in the game, as well as every condition. It also has a set of initiative cards to track player and non-player character actions during combat. Sets two and three (covering artisan and shepherd spells) coming soon!

      What dark secrets do the eldest vampires hold? Find out in Thousand Years of Night for Vampire: The Requiem! PDF and physical book PoD versions available on DriveThruRPG.com. http://ift.tt/2sV8lZR

You may think that with a multitude of people coming, going, dying and running away, we’d be tired, done, or ready to give up. Instead, I find myself restless, looking for the next thing.  There’s always a next thing, and I for one am not yet ready to die.

– Elder Kincaid, Daeva Crone

This book includes:

• Detailed instructions on creating elder vampires, including how to base chronicles around them

• A look into the lives of elders, how they spend their nights, who they work with, and why including their roles in both their clans and covenants

• New Devotions, Merits, and Rituals for elder vampires

• The kinds of creatures that pose a threat to elder vampires, including Inamorata, Lamia, Sons of Phobos, a new elder conspiracy, and more!

      Is a life of running and hiding a life worth living? We say yes. There’s always something between the running and the hiding, and those moments of grace make it all worthwhile.

The Huntsmen Chronicle Anthology is a perfect companion piece to Changeling: The Lost, 2nd Edition. These stories spin tales of the Lost, of those abducted and enslaved by fairies. Those who escaped, but whose captors will stop at nothing to find them. These fairies summon forth the Huntsmen, primordial hunters who understand nothing but pursuit and capture. The Huntsmen are unstoppable monsters, and the Lost can only look to each other for respite, rare comfort, and rarer trust.

The Hedge has parted and you can get the Advance PDF of The Huntsmen Chronicle Fiction Anthology for Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition at DTRPG.com! http://ift.tt/2z4uZnU

        For over 20 years, the artists of Mage: The Ascension have conjured spirits and constructed hypertech that can transform reality on a whim.

Within this retrospective, those artists and images depict the ever-changing face of magick. From the debut edition to the twenty-first century, this book explores the people behind the pictures, the process of putting such books together, the story behind Mage’s Tarot iconography, and more.

Featuring the artwork of Echo Chernik, Joshua Gabriel Timbrook, Michael Gaydos, Mark Jackson, Leif Jones, Michael Kaluta, Steve Prescott, Alex Sheikman, Christopher Shy…and many, many more.

The Art of Mage: 20 Years and More has manifested on DTRPG in PDF and physical book PoD versions! Here: http://ift.tt/2iwP1Rr

      A Land Where Legends Walk

Drawing enthusiastically on Greek mythology, the revised and re-imagined Scarred Lands nonetheless retains its place as a modern fantasy RPG setting. This is a world shaped by gods and monsters, and only the greatest of heroes can expect to be counted among them. The most populous continent of Scarn, Ghelspad, plays host to vast unexplored regions, hides unsolved riddles from ancient cultures, and taunts adventures with the promise of undiscovered riches hidden among the ruins of older civilizations.

Yet the myths of the Scarred Lands are relatively recent events. The effects of the Titanswar still ripple through the world, and the heroines and villains of many of these stories are part of living memory, if not still living.

The Award-Winning Fantasy Setting Returns

Scarred Lands has been a favorite fantasy setting since the release of the Creature Collection for the d20 System in 2000. In subsequent years, over 40 titles were published for Scarred Lands, making it one of the most fully supported fantasy RPG settings ever and the premiere product line of Sword & Sorcery Studios.

Available in both 5th Edition and Pathfinder compatible versions! PDF and PoD formats available NOW!

http://ift.tt/2fEO9YJ

http://ift.tt/2fELqyx

  Heroes, Villains, and Others in Between! 

This tome is a revision of the original book by the same title, originally published for use with 3rd edition rules for the world’s most popular roleplaying game. In this revised edition of The Wise & the Wicked, all the same characters have returned (and we’ve added some new ones, too!), for use with the Scarred Lands Player’s Guide. 

Champions of Gods and Titans 

The Wise & the Wicked introduces a rogue’s gallery of the Scarred Lands’ movers and shakers, characters who carry out the will of the gods or the fallen titans. These non-player characters can be friends, enemies, or simply convenient resources for the player characters in your game.

Inside, find villains such as King Virduk of Calastia, the Black Dragon, along with his wife, the beautiful (and black-hearted) Queen Geleeda; the Grand Vizier to King Virduk, the wicked warrior-mage Anteas; and the sinister general of Virduk’s northern armies, Archduke Traviak the Steel-Fisted. At the other end of the spectrum, meet the gracious Lady Ariniel, the Swan Knight, champion of Madriel; Kimer the Shatterer, bearer of the Earth Sword of Scarn and tenacious foe of the titanspawn of the north; and King Thain the Just, the Aleking, ruler of Burok Torn. And many others beside!

Here you’ll find a fascinating compendium of characters from the Scarred Lands, but easily transported into campaigns set elsewhere. In addition, find multiple appendices full of new magic items and artifacts, class archetypes and prestige classes, new feats, new creatures and races, and more.

Available in Pathfinder and 5th Edition versions! PDF and PoD formats available NOW!

http://ift.tt/2zdVHXS

http://ift.tt/2zeEpd8

          From out of the Dreaming, the C20 Jumpstart: Yours To Keep PDF and PoD are now live on DTRPG.com: http://ift.tt/2fmlF3s

There is magic hiding everywhere. You just need to know where to look.

You are a changeling, a faerie soul hiding in a mortal body, fighting the chill of Nightmares and the oppressive weight of Banality with the pure creative power of Glamour. You have lived many lives, but the story of this one? It outshines them all.

In this hidden world, knights in steel and leather clash sword to sword outside the homecoming dance, dragons fly between skyscrapers, and fantastic castles rise from suburban lawns. A world of magic, intrigue, and adventure, and now that your fae side has awakened, it’s your world too.

“Yours to Keep” includes a rules and setting overview, as well as pre-generated characters and a complete introductory scenario for Changeling: The Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition. It’s perfect for jumpstarting a new Changeling chronicle!

        CONVENTIONS!

  This month, the Onyx Path crew including Rich, Matt, Lisa, Neall, Dixie, and Meghan will be at Booth #650 at the first ever PAX Unplugged in Philadelphia, November 17-19. http://ift.tt/2kBzmfv

  In December, Matthew Dawkins, Dave Brookshaw, and Eddy Webb are going to be at Dragonmeet in London. https://www.dragonmeet.co.uk/ Expect plenty of playful class warfare as these three mix it up, represent Onyx Path, and generally redefine the term “hooligans”.

  Planning ahead for 2018, we’re heading back to Midwinter Game Convention in Milwaukee, January 11-14, where we’re going to be bringing a big crew of many of your favorite Onyx Path designers and we’ll be running demos and making some special announcements at the show!  http://midwintergamingconvention.com

    And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM ROLLICKING ROSE (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

M20 Gods and Monsters (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

M20 Book of the Fallen (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

C20 Novel (Jackie Cassada) (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

  Redlines

Hunter: the Vigil 2e core (Hunter: the Vigil 2nd Edition)

They Came From Beneath the Sea! Rulebook (TCFBtS!)

  Second Draft

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Tales of Good Dogs – Pugmire Fiction Anthology (Pugmire)

Exalted 3rd Novel by Matt Forbeck (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Night Horrors: The Tormented (Promethean: The Created 2nd Edition)

Monarchies of Mau (Monarchies of Mau)

  Development

Signs of Sorcery (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

SL Ring of Spiragos (Pathfinder – Scarred Lands 2nd Edition)

Ring of Spiragos (5e – Scarred Lands 2nd Edition)

Scion: Origin (Scion 2nd Edition)

Scion: Hero (Scion 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum Core Rulebook (The Trinity Continuum)

Trinity Continuum: Aeon Rulebook (The Trinity Continuum)

GtS Geist 2e core (Geist: the Sin-Eaters Second Edition)

  WW Manuscript Approval:

  Editing:

Ex Novel 2 (Aaron Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Pugmire Pan’s Guide for New Pioneers (Pugmire)

Dragon-Blooded (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Kithbook Boggans (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition)

The Realm (Exalted 3rd Edition)

  Post-Editing Development:

Changeling: the Lost 2nd Edition, featuring the Huntsmen Chronicle (Changeling: the Lost 2nd Edition)

  Indexing:

    ART DIRECTION FROM MIRTHFUL MIKE:

In Art Direction

Cavaliers of Mars – Art meeting this Tuesday for sure!

Ex3 Monthly Stuff

Scion Origins

Ring of Spiragos

Changeling: the Lost 2 – Graphics done- KS ready.

Trinity Continuum – Splats for core book with Mr Jones, sending multi-cover single piece of artwork to illustrator.

Pugmire – Vinsen’s Tomb

Ex3 Dragon Blooded 

  Marketing Stuff

  In Layout

Beast PG

Pugmire/Scarred Lands Community Content

Pugmire Artisan Cards

Book of Freeholds

DtD Enemy Action – Going to Josh

  Proofing

Wraith 20 – Second layout proof being worked on by designer.

Pentex Indoctrination Manual – Second proof.

VtR Half Damned – Second proof.

W20 Changing Ways – First proof.

  At Press

Beckett Screen – Shipped to shipper.

Scarred Land PGs & Wise and the Wicked PF & 5e – With US customs. PDF and PoD physical book versions on sale at DTRPG.

Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition) – Deluxe Edition cover and Screen in the works. Waiting for Deluxe cover proofs.

V20DA Jumpstart – PoD proofs ordered.

Prince’s Gambit – Print and Play version updated. Getting specs from printer.

M20 Cookbook – Layout waiting for errata.

CtL Huntsmen Chronicle Anthology  – Layout waiting for errata.

V20 Beckett’s Jyhad Diary– Finishing Backer PDF errata gathering.

C20 Ready Made Characters – Out to backers.

Ex 3 Arms of the Chosen – Advance PDF on sale Weds on DTRPG.

  TODAY’S REASON TO CELEBRATE: Over the weekend in the US we had the Veterans’ Day holiday. Thank you all for your service.

[jafreitag]

The Death of the Auteur

Amanda Petrusich is a rockstar. Figuratively. She’s not a musician. She’s a writer.

Her wiki says that she’s “an American music journalist and the author of three books” – 2007’s Pink Moon (a 33 1/3 series dissection of Nick Drake’s ’72 classic), 2008’s It Still Moves: Lost Songs, Lost Highways, and the Search for the Next American Music (a sorta travelogue in search of what matters about roots-y bands), and 2014’s Do Not Sell At Any Price: The Wild, Obsessive Hunt for the World’s Rarest 78rpm Records (descriptive title). She’s a Guggenheim Fellow, a former staffer at Pitchfork, and a current staffer at The New Yorker. She’s a member of a rock scribes guild that includes Robert Christgau, Michael Azerrad, Anthony DeCurtis, Greg Kot, Jim DeRogatis, and the ghost of Lester Bangs. (All dudes.) Along with her contemporaries and cohorts Jesse Jarnow, Sasha Frere-Jones, Hua Hsu, and a very few others in that field, she’s good at her job. Fwiw, she’s the best.

What makes her the best? She understands that, pace comedian Martin Mull, “writing about music is like dancing about architecture.” So she straps on her tap shoes and just goes. Her stuff is always well-phrased, sure, but also well-structured. Her pieces typically feature something professional, and big – historical perspective, like she’s researched and listened. They also typically feature something personal, and small – individual perspective, like she’s lived and breathed a life informed and enriched by music. A jab here, a digression there, and then a deeper digression here and there. Grace, above all, everywhere. She makes me want to write – to write better, smarter, tauter and looser at the same time. She probably had/has good editors, but the craft and art is hers.

This post isn’t entirely about Amanda Petrusich. It’s also about Roland Barthes. I’ll get there, promise. (I’m assuming the tl;dr crowd checked out way before now. If you’re still with me, cinch up and hunker down.)

Last week, LN banned Ryan Adams for his indefensible treatment of women. I liked alot of Adams’ songs (tbh, who didn’t dig “New York, New York” post-9/11?), as well as his prolific output (another new album, I guess I’ll check that out). The things that kept me from loving him were his work-like approach to songwriting, and his generally douche-y look and demeanor.

The Pitchfork review of his 2008 record (with his occasional band, The Cardinals), Cardinology called it “melodically sound, remarkably insular and largely unaffecting.” That gets to my former point re: songwriting. I feel like there’s another review of another album on Pitchfork that riffs on how Adams’ music is simply finger exercises in mopey, alt-country. There’s nothing of him in his songs, just distant musings on relationship tropes that use rural, everyperson scenery, as well as vaguely twangy delivery and dated Nashville/Muscle Shoals instrumentation/arrangements, to provide cred. I scoured P4k (wow, they hate and love him in almost equal measure), but couldn’t find what I remembered. Trust me that that review exists. Or don’t, and just buy what I’m trying to say. Dude is “good” at his job. And it’s just a job. To borrow from P4k again – its take on 2005’s Jacksonville City Nights: “Nearly a dozen albums in, counting Whiskeytown, Ryan Adams’ shtick is that it’s all shtick.”

And then it wasn’t. He married and divorced Mandy Moore, decided to devote an entire album to the demise of that relationship – 2017’s Prisoner. Here’s his comment about it to the Japan Times:

“I started writing this record while I was going through a very public divorce, which is a humiliating and just a f—-ing horrible thing to go through no matter who you are. To be me and to go through that the way that I did was destructive on a level that I can’t explain. So a lot of extra work went into keeping my chin up and remembering what I did and what I loved about who I was.”

That hints at my latter point, and feeds the former. “To be me” is the weird part. Like he needs the interviewer knows that he’s a sensitive, press-shy guy, so any details of what that process entailed – the pains, the doubts, the regrets, the gotdam details of who gets the kids/pets and when (full disclo, I’m divorced, too) – was off-limits because of, well, him. But it was all good because of, well, him. He told the JT that he wrote “quite literally 80 songs, probably more” (OMF, that’s such a Trump quote) for Prisoner, discovering that he could “write out the bulls—- so I could get back to myself and say, ‘Cool. This is what is real.’ ”

That record is ok, but there’s nothing real about it. Again, P4k, from it’s review (after quoting some lyrics):

“[L]ines that feel like placeholders for universal truths or even personalized expressions of pain that rarely emerge. While it’s impossible to evaluate the album’s sincerity, inspiration is a more tangible quality, and Adams comes off like an A student uncharacteristically frozen by an essay prompt, filling the margins with the hopes that his reputation can get him out of this jam, this one time.”

Reputation, ok. That definitely goes to the latter point. Adams has a difficult one. The Ringer says, “Adams’s reputation has long preceded him, by design, like a human shield.” Basically, he’s difficult, and revels being so because he thinks he’s some sort of rock genius auteur – the attitude, like the disheveled hair and the frumpy clothes, serves the grander brand. Per Spin, he has used his influence to get websites to remove negative content about him – namely, a 2017 Consequence of Sound profile about Phoebe Bridgers, a singer-songwriter, a member of boy genius (whose s/t ep was my fave record of last year), a co-founder of Better Oblivion Community Center (with Conor Oberst), and, least of all, a former parter of Adams. What was so bad? In the profile, Bridgers observed that Adams “wigs out at people on Twitter all the time,” but added, “Do I ever text him and say, ‘Stop?’ Never. I think I’d wind up on the wrong end of a Twitter rant.” Wow.

Adams has also flexed on critics who have given his music less than glowing reviews. That includes Amanda Petrusich. She has previous with him. For P4k, she savaged his 2003 album, Rock N Roll, which then prompted him to summon her (via people) for an interview. It starts with AP saying that he talks fast, and then Adams hearsaying his “writer” friend informing that the website is “not very cool at all.” Ugh. He tells her that P4k is a “good resource,” which has a nice vibe because it supports indie material. To relate, I guess, he adds, “Today I got the first Pussy Galore record for $50,” (I doubt that), which he had been “looking for for so fucking long”  because he gets “cool records.” But. if I wasn’t him, he’d pass on Jon Spencer and Neil Hagerty, and “be like, ‘Dude, you have to check out this record, Gold, it kicks ass.’ ” (Aside: In the history of the world, there has never been a human being who has gone into a record store to buy Dial M for Motherfucker and settled for Gold, not even Mad Ego’s Ryan Fucking Adams.)

And then AP prods him, and mentions his comment that rock journalism is just exhibitionism. She says that she’s not cool and listens to the Grateful Dead (so do we at LN!!). His response:

“I fucking love the Dead! Jesse Malin got me a coupon for a Steal Your Face tattoo for my birthday. ‘Cause, you know, I want to be badass. [Laughs] There are a lot of things expected and not expected. I mean, back in the day, Jim Morrison fucking going crazy in Florida and maybe or maybe not pulling his penis out, or attacking a police officer– all this unbelievably decadent shit. That was news. Now it’s ‘singer/songwriter can be slightly hotheaded.’ I’m not trying to hurt anybody.”

Or maybe he was. Last week’s ban post linked the New York Times article about Adams’ abuse of women. I don’t need to revisit that, but here’s his preemptive tweet (since deleted, typos are his) before the article was out:

“Happy Vanentines day @nytimes. I know you got lawyers. But do you have the truth on your side. No. I do. And you have run out of friends. My folks are NOT your friends. Run your smear piece. But the legal eagles see you. Rats. I’m f—ing taking you down. Let’s learn I bait.”

Last week, The New Yorker published Amanda Petrusich’s “Ryan Adams and the Perils of the Rock-Genius Myth.” There, she mentions that Adams is now under investigation by the F.B.I. for communications with a then-14 year-old fan, which may have crossed legal lines. (Adams’ attorney denies any wrongdoing by his client. And, as I said in the ban post, the presumption of innocence is constitutionally important.) AP also mentions comments by Bridgers on social media, where she described Adams as stifling, domineering, and frightening. Bridgers thanked her friends, band, and mom for support, then called out Adams’ “network,” none of which, she says, “held him accountable,” but rather “told him, by what they said or what they didn’t, that what he was doing was okay.” AP says:

“What Bridgers is emphasizing—that most people who have been subject to this sort of behavior can just as clearly recall the dude in the room who refused to meet their gaze, who was visibly uncomfortable but nonetheless remained silent—feels more important than ever to remember. It’s not simply the alpha abusers at fault for poisoning the music industry but also the whole odious web of enablers that surrounds them.”

AP continues (and this is a long quote, but it’s so finely rendered, and provides such great insight into her experience as a serious journalist who happens to be female, that you should read the whole damn thing):

“It almost feels silly, in our present era, to point out that sexism is pervasive in the music business, from the major labels on down—it’s now so ingrained in the system as to simply be presumed. Nearly every woman I know who works in music has a bottomless grab bag of stomach-turning stories about being harassed at shows, demeaned during interviews, inappropriately and aggressively propositioned, objectified, insulted, or treated as a joke. For most of us, it goes on until these sorts of incidents become normalized��a job hazard that you don’t think about because you’ve never known another way of working. ‘The concept of male genius insulates against all manner of sin,’ the critic Laura Snapes recently wrote in the Guardian. For men, childish or cruel behavior is often not just excused, but lauded—held as evidence of passion, vision, verve. A man behaving hysterically can be reconfigured as brilliant, whereas a woman doing the same thing will, in all likelihood, be dismissed as a maniac. I think often about a conversation I had with the musician Chan Marshall, who records as Cat Power, in Miami, in 2014. Marshall has been subject to several decades of name-calling for her occasionally erratic behavior, which has included walking offstage mid-show—something dozens of male rock stars have done before her. ‘I’m not crazy,’ I recall her telling me.

When I first started working as a music critic, in my early twenties, the industry was still almost exclusively male. My first real writing job was for the music-reviews site Pitchfork, where at times I was one of just two, maybe three, women on staff. My early editors and colleagues were supportive and encouraging—I was fortunate—but music criticism itself has problematic roots. The practice was largely founded and developed by male writers, who understood hedonism as a display of authenticity (maybe as the only display of authenticity), and its language still hinges around vaguely mystical ideas about art-making as a kind of bloodletting. For decades, that language has been used to protect and enshroud troubled men, and to dismiss and humiliate women working in the same register. I learned the vocabulary of the trade as a young critic, and the process of un-learning it has been slow, deliberate, and difficult.

Part of the problem is that music thrills and bewilders us in a way that can feel at odds with natural laws, so we instinctively codify and exalt its creation. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking and writing about what happens to a person when they hear a song that they love, and what sense, if any, can be made of that strange, glorious melting. When I look at my own record collection, I see a desperate monument to my desire for that feeling—for some fleeting brush with the sublime. There are neurobiological processes to point to, and loads of social and cultural cues that help explain and unpack fandom, but the experience itself is such a hard thing to hold on the page. Never being able to fully explain it in a concise or useful way is a big part of why I first began writing about music, and why the work remains interesting to me. There’s a little bit of God in it.

But mystifying the creative process also allows for the genius myth to expand and endure. When nobody can say for sure why a certain melody is so satisfying, or so evocative, or so pleasurable—and this is criticism’s grandest prerogative, to somehow get close—we inevitably begin to imbue its creator with supernatural strengths. Ergo, people get away with things, for horrifyingly long stretches of time. It seems essential that critics remain vigilant about who is being granted leniency, and for what. But I also wonder if there’s a way for critical discourse to make more room for the receiver—to give more credit to our own consciousness, and the magic it makes of sound. That communion, after all—between player and listener, in which both parties create something extraordinary together—is just as sacred. Perhaps we can start to look for the genius in there instead.”

Yeah. There is a way, and it harkens back to the heady days of late-60s French deconstructionism. In 1967, Roland Barthes published an essay called “The Death of the Author.” I’ve referenced it a bunch through various iterations of this blog. (OM is fake sick of it, but he’s a pomo fiction geek, and a student of lit-crit, so whatever.) The wiki is actually p fly, but I’ll dig into the original text for pith.

Barthes writes that

“the image of literature to be found in contemporary culture is tyrannically centered on the author, his person, his history, his tastes, his passions; … the explanation of the work is always sought in the man who has produced it, as if, through the more or less transparent allegory of fiction, it was always finally the voice of one and the same person, the author, which delivered his ‘confidence.’ “

Man, not woman. Hmph.

Barthes’ essay is about literature, so it’s tricky to extrapolate it for a more performative (less interpretative) art form, like music. It’s also baseline difficult to decipher, and I’m not as smart as I used to be. (As I reread it, I tried to remember why I underlined certain passages when I was a grad student twenty-five years ago, and oof.) Essentially, Barthes wants to kill the Author by ending authority, by establishing that “utterance in its entirety is a void process, which functions perfectly without requiring to be filled by the person of the interlocutors: linguistically, the author is never anything more than the man who writes, just as I is no more than the man who says I: language knows a ‘subject,’ not a ‘person.’ ”

There’s a passage in the essay that suggests a de-personed hand (“his hand, detached from any voice, borne by pure gesture of inscription (and not of expression), traces a field without origin”) that goes a bit too far for me, but the idea is incontrovertible: “[T]he true locus of writing is reading.” And the true locus of songwriting is listening. I could riff on this, but I’ll get back to AP and her query.

The meaning/significance of any song or album belongs to us, not to the person who hummed it, demoed it, recorded it, and released it. If there’s wonder, it’s built into what we already do. And we can choose to direct that – that communion, that magic – toward artists who deserve it. The Auteur is dead. Long live rock.

More soon.

JF

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[gkingoffez]

grab yourself a mug cause i made a fresh pot

Fandom: Red vs Blue

Words: 1,554

Just a super-quick thing for the RvB Bingo Wars. I’m Blue Team (better dead than red, I always say!) and it’s for the square ‘takes place during Blood Gulch era’. Love me my sarcastic blue boys. <3

Title from the song ‘Caffeine’ by Jeff Williams.

Church can’t quite explain why he keeps making coffee for himself- he’s a ghost possessing a robot for fuck’s sake, two things that irrefutably don’t need food or drink to survive. Yet still, every morning he finds himself shuffling into Blue Base’s kitchen, methodically filling and boiling the coffee jug and dumping spoonful’s of instant coffee into it from a suspiciously green looking package. There’s not even a damn coffee machine to automate the process (who the fuck is running this under equipped, useless army?) but Church still does it every day without fault.

He figures it must just be one of those habits that are really hard to break, like gambling or hard drugs. Perhaps he’d drunk so much coffee in life it had become a purely instinctual habit, so much so that not even the cold embrace of death could keep him from his daily cup o’ Joe. That was a really depressing thought. Had he really done so little in his dumb life that something this stupid had bled into his afterlife?

So every day he makes himself a cup of coffee, sits down and then just… well, stares at it, mostly. Contemplates it. Tries to act deep and brooding, when really he’s just trying to remember what it tastes like. Like if he thought hard enough about it, it would be just like he was actually drinking it. Church couldn’t explain the feeling out loud, but then again his whole life would probably be difficult to explain out loud.

Am I just doomed to keep making coffee I can’t drink for all eternity? He thinks moodily. If so, he honestly wouldn’t be surprised; Blood Gulch is his already his own personal purgatory, what’s one more endless torture to add to the mix?

Once, once, he had forgotten entirely that he didn’t have a mouth, and had splashed an entire cup of scalding coffee down his visor and onto his metal legs. It had taken Caboose hours to scrub it off his robot body, and he’d be damned (ha) if he made that embarrassing mistake again.

The one thing Church is sure about is that he absolutely isn’t making coffee to be nice to Tucker and Caboose. They may just happen to be the only people left on base that could still consume caffeine, but in no way is he doing this for them. Absolutely not.

“Hey Church I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, why the fuck do you keep making us coffee every morning?” asks Tucker from across the breakfast table one morning. Tucker is wearing only his leg armour and aqua t-shirt, and had just sat down with a steaming coffee cup poured fresh from the jug.

If Church could still scowl through the lifeless metal helmet, he would be doing that right now.

“What? Fuck off, asshole. I’m not making it for you, I’m making it for me,” Church replies, angrily gesturing to his own cup. It is black with exactly half a teaspoon of sugar, just as he likes it. Had liked it, before he had died, that is.

“Dude, you’re a fucking robot. You have no mouth or tongue! All you end up doing is pouring the coffee down the sink when it’s gone cold, and when you don’t do that I’m the one finding full cups just lying around base in random places,” huffs Tucker, gesturing with his hands to punctuate his annoyance. “Sometimes I use it to tell where you’ve been. Is the cup still warm? Well then, Church must have been here recently!”

Church throws up his middle finger at that, which Tucker ignores.

“So, dude, come on, what the fuck is the point of making coffee every morning if you can’t even drink it?”

Church splutters and folds his arms over his chest, not wanting to answer that question. Not that he has an answer for it. “I died for this fucking war, Tucker. I don’t have to explain anything I do or don’t do in my afterlife to the likes of you.”

Tucker groans. “God, will you stop using that excuse? And come on, at least tell me why you always make enough for the whole team. Every morning there’s always coffee in the pot waiting for me. It’s almost like you’re being nice, and I gotta be honest? It’s kinda starting to freak me out.”

Church scoffs, almost offended by the implication he was being deliberately helpful to anyone, much less his stupid teammates. “Like I said before, I make the coffee for me, Tucker. You fuckers just get lucky that I always measure out too much. Besides, you should really be thanking me, I’m doing you a favour.”

Tucker rolls his eyes. He sips at his brew (Tucker liked his coffee with milk and two sugars, Church had noticed) in lieu of a reply, and pulls a disgusted face. “Wow, thanks so much for this shitty fucking coffee, I’m so grateful. Ugh, why does military-issued food always taste like dirt?”

Church can’t help the wave of envy that broils in his chest. He is not jealous of Tucker’s stupid organic body and his ability to still drink coffee. Not at all, that would be idiotic. He glares at his own cup, and ignores Tucker’s concerned glance.

There is a beat of silence.

“You know dude,” Tucker says, swirling his cup around and staring determinedly into it. He looks uncomfortably like he is about to say something girly and deep. “It’s okay if you… miss it. Drinking coffee; doing other alive stuff that you can’t do now you’re dead.” Tucker pauses, still looking anywhere but at Church. “Like, I get it, uh… well, I’m pretty sure if I died and came back as a robot there’s a heap of things I would miss too. Like eating candy or that satisfying feeling after you rip a fart. And sex. Wait, I want to revise that list so sex is the first thing on it. Bow chicka bow wow.”

“What?” Church chuckles, probably louder than is necessary. That’s stupid, right? That can’t be why he keeps doing this, he can’t miss- but does he?

“Tucker, I don’t miss being alive, that’s stupid,” Church bites back, using sarcastic air quotations around the ‘miss’ and pointedly avoiding the thought that Tucker is probably right. “You really think I would miss being a smelly meatbag, constantly shitting myself and having to drink water just to stay alive? Nah, I’m just fine with my super robotic strength and immortality, thank you very much. Geez, of all the stupid things you’ve said…”

Tucker shifts irately and purses his lips. “Whatever dude, I was just trying to help, or whatever, but if you’re gonna be an asshole about it,” he mutters, taking an angry swig of coffee.

There’s another long pause, before Church decides to shift the subject and escape the uncomfortable air that had settled in the kitchen.

“All right, you wanna know the real reason I keep making coffee?” Church asks, leaning forward in his chair.

Tucker glances up, his curiosity evidentially overriding his anger. “Yeah, sure.”

If he’d been able to, Church would have grinned evilly. “It’s all part of my master plan. I’m slowly but surely screwing you fuckers over. The more coffee I make, the quicker it gets used up and the more goes to waste. And you know how long it takes command to restock supplies sometimes.”

Tucker rolls his eyes again and barks out a laugh. “Why did I have the feeling it would be something like that? Dude, that’s low, some of us are still alive and need this shit to keep going.”

Church chuckles bitterly. “Enjoy your coffee while it lasts, Tucker,” he says with an undertone of threat. For dramatic effect, he picks up his own cup and swirls it around, making a show of sloshing the liquid wastefully on to the table.

Tucker shakes his head, looking scandalised.

“Good morning, Church!” comes Caboose’s cheery voice. Both Tucker and Church turn to watch thir teammate, still wearing the ludicrous bunny onesie he often wore to bed, cross the kitchen on a beeline to the coffee jug.

(Caboose likes his coffee half and half- half-coffee and half-cream and piles of sugar, that is. Church had tried it once back when he was alive, and had almost gagged it back up. It was sacrilegious, a fucking tragedy that Caboose could drink that monstrosity of sugar while Church had absolutely nothing.)

Okay, maybe Tucker has a point after all. Maybe Church does miss being alive, but only a little. Not that he’ll ever admit any of that out loud.

“Alright, you know what, Tucker, if you’re just gonna complain about it, then I’ll just stop making the coffee every day.” Church stands up angrily, grabbing his cup and stomping to the sink to pour it out, clunking it down on the bench. “One of you guys can take over. Have fun with that you ungrateful pieces of shit!”

Caboose sends him a confused look as he stalks from the room.

“Tucker, why is Church angry with the coffee?” he hears Caboose ask after he slams the door behind him.

“Because he doesn’t want to face his feelings,” is Tucker’s derisive reply.

Church hates it when Tucker is right.

[jezfletcher]

1000 Albums, 2018: The Top Ten

10. Skerryvore - Evo

(Celtic rock) Right in my wheelhouse is the confluence of Celtic folk, pop and rock, and Evo from Skerryvore really delivers exactly that. It’s has a kind of rousing stadium sound to it, but performed with some trad twists that always makes it sound fresher than your average kind of pop rock. Much like my #1 album of 2016, The Space Between from Jamie Smith’s Mabon, this is the kind of album which was always going to vault up the ratings. My pick of the tracks it Hold On.

9. Orbital - Monsters Exist

(techno) A pretty monumental album from Orbital, 90s beatmakers extrordinaire, which manages to wrangle all of their dark, thumping electronica, and their humour into one tight little package. My pick of the tracks is the sprawling Monsters Exist, but you could just as easily fall in love with tracks like Hoo Hoo Ha Ha or P.H.U.K.. This sounds a little bit like their 2001 album The Altogether, which is one of my favourite albums of all time. This won the week easily the week it came out; so easily that I didn’t necessarily think about it much. But when it came time to relisten, I appreciated anew just what a fine album this is.

8. Dudley Benson - Zealandia

(contemporary chamber music) This was something of a revelation to me. This was one of Sam’s picks, and something that I’d failed to find in my screening. But this is really quite wonderful music, akin to the Mercury-winning Benjamin Clementine we listened to last year. It’s music with a real sense of novelty to it—music that sounds like music will sound in the future. It’s based around chamber music ideals and baroque instrumentation (harpsichord features prominently), but it maintains a kind of pop structure that adds an accessibility to it. That might make it less academically complex as Clementine, for instance, but it also makes it the kind of music you can devour wholeheartedly. I have two particular picks: Birth of a Nation and It’s Otepoti’s Fault.

7. The Fratellis - In Your Own Sweet Time

(indie rock) I’ve actually never listened to the Fratellis before, although they’ve had a somewhat illustrious career before now. Coming into this album fresh though is quite an experience though. You feel a little bit as though they’ve completed everything they wanted to complete, and now, with an album like In Your Own Sweet Time (their fifth), they can just let rip and have fun. And this absolutely comes through in the music—it’s riproaring stuff, just full-throated and unapologetic about what a good time they’re having. It’s also daggy, but it’s done with such abandon and sincerity that I was dragged along with it, grinning every step of the way. There’s lots of pick on an album like this, but even amongst all the goodness, there’s a big standout in Starcrossed Losers.

6. Cosmo Sheldrake - The Much Much How How And I

(baroque pop, art pop) A wonderfully quirky album from a very talented musician, The Much Much How How And I is the debut album from Sheldrake, after a teaser of his style in his EP Pelicans We, which we also listened to this year. A multi-instrumentalist, Sheldrake must play around 100 instruments on this thing, ranging from plinky strings to oddly tuned percussion, to clarinet, all backed up by his affected vocals. It’s chamber pop in some sense, but it’s also mixed with the music you’d find in a turn-of-the-century circus, or the soundtrack to the inevitable approach of the clockwork army. It’s utterly unlike anything else we listened to this year, and that’s enough to propel it this high in my list. My top pick is Wriggle, but I also rate Birth a Basket, Hocking and Egg and Soldiers.

5. Jeremy Messersmith - Late Stage Capitalism

(orchestral pop) From the first moments I started this album, I could tell it was going to be a yearly standout. It’s a kind of effortless throwback pop rock, which both manages to sound evocative of 60s pop, while having the clean, crisp edge that makes it feel fresh and modern. On top of that, there’s just some really classic songwriting in here—tracks like Purple Hearts feel like the kind of track which could have been a hit in any era since the 1950s. While Purple Hearts is a big standout for me, I’m also very fond of the melancholy ambivalence of Monday (“Monday, you’re not so bad”, he croons), and the swooning All The Cool Girls. It’s a really quite wonderful album.

4. Moon Taxi - Let The Record Play

(indie pop) I’m pretty surprised to see this so high—it’s the highest album on this list which didn’t end up taking out an Album of the Week award the week it was released—but on relistening I was shocked at how bloody good it is. This is, absolutely, the kind of album which I have just devoured in the past. It’s pop rock with jazz and funk influences. It’s got a prominent horn section. I mean, even just look at that cover art. You know it’s going to be fun. But the even better part is the density of top tracks. Even many months after hearing it, I not only get my top track stuck in my head (Two High, which is awesome and you should go listen to it), but I find myself humming along to Let the Record Play, Good As Gold, Nothing Can Keep Us Apart and Trouble. This is the sort of thing that’s going to get me in just about any week of the music project. And yet it didn’t win the week when we listened to it. Funny about that.

3. Kyle Craft - Full Circle Nightmare

(glam folk) Kyle Craft had my #2 album of the year in 2016, with his debut Dolls of Highland, which was a revelation, and just a bloody good album. He’d released a couple of respectable, but somewhat underwhelming filler singles in 2017, so I was approaching his sophomore effort with some trepidation. But boy oh boy was I wrong to worry. This is every bit as good as his first effort, recapturing all of the energy and glam swagger, and putting it forward with his brassy bombast. Here we have tracks like Fever Dream Girl and Heartbreak Junky which run the gamut from melancholy introspection to punchy full-throated sass. This was absolutely the album I wanted from Craft to follow up on his exceptional debut: it’s more of the same, to show that he can pull out the same style and verve that made the first album so good. If there’s one reason that this is #3 of the year when the previous album was #2, it’s that it does lack that delineation from the first album. But that, as I said, is a strength as well. I feel like I’m expecting something new from album number three though, and given Craft’s talent, I can imagine a bunch of ways it could go where he really ratchets it up to the next level. I’ll be waiting.

2. Jukebox The Ghost - Off to the Races

(power pop) This is an amazing collection of music, and has a density of quality songs that beats just about anything on this list apart from my #1 album. Unsurprisingly, that’s why it’s in my #2 position of the year. You know you’re in safe hands from the very beginning, with the Queen-channelling, raucously complex opening track Jumpstarted (which will also be featuring prominently in my Top Tracks of the Year list). But the hits keep coming, with the power pop Fred Astaire, almost chamber-work like Time And I and plaintive Diane. There are more I could mention. This is just exactly the kind of music I’m here for—and for them to give me so many different flavours of it across the album is a real treat. A very worthy #2 of the year from me.

1. The Go! Team - Semicircle

(vaguely alterna-J-hip-poptronica) In the end though, I can’t go past this pretty awesome album from stylistic provocateurs The Go! Team. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed some of their previous work (although I’ve not done a proper deep dive into it), but even this album is pushing them somewhere different. Recorded with a youth choir and what sounds like a high school marching band, it manages to capture their same style but package it up in a different way and the results are fascinating. But beyond being academically interesting, it’s just great fun. We have tracks like the steel-drum infused If There’s One Thing You Should Know, the plunderphonic Mayday, which incorporates a Morse code beeping into its main driving rhythm, the tight jazz-rock stylings of All The Way Live, or title track The Semicircle Song, which climaxes with a bunch of the singers introducing themselves with their name and star sign (because why. the hell. not). This was a strong winner of Album of the Week the week it was release (and the reason why Moon Taxi didn’t get a look-in that week), and I think I’ve always been quietly considering it my Album of the Year from when it was first released. But there’s nothing like making it official, and it feels good to finally make an honest album out of Semicircle. There we have it for another year. There were genuinely some amazing albums this year, and I find it very, very satisfying to look over the best of them. It absolutely makes the effort and the time we spend on this project worth it. Tomorrow, I'm going to post my top tracks of the year, without commentary, and also post a public playlist of all of my top tracks, in case you want to give it a whirl. Believe me that 2018 (like 2017 and 2016 before it, and maybe even years before we did our 1000 Albums project) was an excellent year for music.

[beyondforks]

Book Review: By Your Side by Kasie West

By Your Side by Kasie West Genre: Young Adult (Contemporary Romance) Date Published: January 31, 2017 Publisher: HarperTeen

When Autumn Collins finds herself accidentally locked in the library for an entire weekend, she doesn’t think things could get any worse. But that’s before she realizes that Dax Miller is locked in with her. Autumn doesn’t know much about Dax except that he’s trouble. Between the rumors about the fight he was in (and that brief stint in juvie that followed it) and his reputation as a loner, he’s not exactly the ideal person to be stuck with. Still, she just keeps reminding herself that it is only a matter of time before Jeff, her almost-boyfriend, realizes he left her in the library and comes to rescue her.

Only he doesn’t come. No one does.

Instead it becomes clear that Autumn is going to have to spend the next couple of days living off vending-machine food and making conversation with a boy who clearly wants nothing to do with her. Except there is more to Dax than meets the eye. As he and Autumn first grudgingly, and then not so grudgingly, open up to each other, Autumn is struck by their surprising connection. But can their feelings for each other survive once the weekend is over and Autumn’s old life, and old love interest, threaten to pull her from Dax’s side? 

By Your Side by Kasie West was a sweet, little story. Autumn and Dax get locked in the library, allowing them to get to know each other. There is a definite attraction, but that's only a part of the story. Autumn has had a crush on Jeff for a long time, and their great friends. So, she has a lot to contemplate once they're out of the library. She's young with all these conflicting emotions, but she's a sweetheart and doesn't want to hurt anyone. So, she has a hard time saying no and doing things she actually wants to do. Dax has his own issues, but that doesn't keep him from helping Autumn with hers. These two were so darn cute. That's pretty much how I think of this story as a whole. It was cute!

I was locked in the library trying not to panic. Literally locked. As in, no escape. Every door, every window, every air vent. Okay, I hadn’t tried the air vents, but I was seriously considering it. I wasn’t desperate enough . . . yet. My friends would realize what had happened and they’d come back and free me, I assured myself. I just had to wait. It all started when I had to go to the bathroom. Well, before that there had been a lot of soda—a two-liter of Dr Pepper that Morgan had smuggled into the library. I had drunk more than my fair share of the bottle when Jeff sat down next to me, smelling like trees and sky and sunlight every time he leaned over to ask my opinion. It wasn’t until the windows darkened to black, the librarians asked us to leave, and we made it all the way to the underground parking garage where the fifteen of us were dividing into four cars that I realized I wasn’t going to make it down the street, let alone all the way to the canyon campfire. “I have to pee,” I announced after I plopped my bag into Jeff’s trunk. Lisa rolled down her window. Her car, parked next to Jeff’s, was already running. “I thought you were coming in my car, Autumn.” She gave me a knowing smile. She knew I wanted to go with Jeff. I smiled too. “I’ll be right back. There is no toilet at the bonfire.” “There are a lot of trees,” Jeff said, rounding the car and slamming his trunk shut. It echoed through the nearly empty garage. In his car I could now see three heads in the backseat and a fourth in the passenger seat. No. They all beat me to it. I would have to go with Lisa after all. No big deal, I’d have plenty of time to talk to Jeff at the bonfire. It wasn’t in my nature to be bold in my declarations of undying affection, but with my limbs all jittery from nearly two liters of caffeine and Lisa’s warning about Avi stealing Jeff out from under me buzzing in my head, I felt powerful. I rushed back down the long hall, up the stairs, and through the glass walkway that overlooked a courtyard. When I made it to the main floor of the library, half the lights were already out. The library was too big and needed more bathrooms, I decided by the time I made it there. I pushed open the heavy wooden door and quickly found a stall. The box holding the paper seat covers was empty. Looked like I’d have to hover. As I was zipping my pants back up, the lights went out. I let out a yelp then laughed. “Funny, guys.” Dallin, Jeff’s best friend, had no doubt found the breaker. It seemed like something he would do. The lights remained out, though, and no laughing followed my scream. They must’ve been on motion detectors. I waved my hands. Nothing. I inched forward, feeling along the door, trying not to think about all the germs clinging to it, until I found the lock and slid it open. A streetlight shone through an upper window, so I was able to see just enough for a thorough hand washing. It was an eco-friendly bathroom, meaning only air dryers. I wiped my hands on my jeans, opting for speed over the most inefficient way ever to dry hands. My reflection in the mirror was only a shadow, but I leaned forward anyway to see if my makeup was smudged. From what I could tell, it looked fine. Out in the hall only a few random overhead lights illuminated the way. The place was completely shut down. I picked up my pace. The library at night was creepier than I’d thought it could be. The ten-foot-long enclosed glass hallway sparkled as snow began to fall outside. I didn’t linger like I was tempted to. Hopefully the snow wouldn’t affect the bonfire. If it stayed light, it would make it magical. A perfect night for confessions. Jeff wasn’t going to freak out when I told him, was he? No, he’d been flirting with me all night. He’d even picked the same era as I had for the history essay. I didn’t think that was a coincidence. As for the cabin with the girls after the bonfire, the snow would be perfect. Maybe we’d get snowed in. That had happened once before. At first it had stressed me out but it ended up the best weekend ever—hot chocolate and tubing and ghost stories. I reached the door to the parking garage and gave the metal bar a shove. It didn’t budge. I pushed a second time. Nothing. “Jeff! Dallin! You’re not funny!” I pressed my nose against the glass, but as far as I could see both ways there were absolutely no cars or people. “Lisa?” Out of habit, I reached for my cell phone. My hand met only the empty pocket of my jeans. I’d put my black weekend bag with all my stuff—cell phone, clothes, jacket, purse, snacks, camera, medication—in Jeff’s trunk. No. I ran the entire library, searching for another way out. A way that apparently didn’t exist. Six doors to the outside and they were all locked. And so there I was—back leaned up against the door to the parking garage, its cold seeping into my skin—stuck in a big empty library, caffeine and anxiety battling it out in my body. A heart-fluttering panic worked its way up my chest and took my breath away. Calm down. They’ll be back, I told myself. There had just been too many people getting into too many different cars. They all thought I was with someone else. Once the four cars reached the bonfire, someone would notice I wasn’t there and they’d come back. I calculated the time that would take. Thirty minutes up the canyon, thirty minutes back. I’d be here for an hour. Well, then they’d have to find someone with a key to open this door. But that wouldn’t take much longer. They’d all have phones. They could call the fire department if they had to. Okay, now I was getting dramatic. No emergency departments would have to be called. My pep talk helped. This was nothing to get worked up about. I didn’t want to leave my post for fear my friends wouldn’t see me when they came back. Or I wouldn’t see or hear them. But without my phone or my camera I had no way of passing the time. I started humming a song very badly, then laughed at my effort. Maybe I’d just count the holes in the ceiling panels or . . . I looked around and came up empty. How did people pass the time without cell phones? “. . . skies are blue. Birds fly over the rainbow.” My singing wasn’t going to earn me a record deal anytime soon, but that hadn’t stopped me from belting out a few songs at the top of my lungs. I stopped, my throat raw. It had been at least an hour. My butt was numb and the chill from the floor had crept up my body, making me shiver. They must turn the heat down on the weekend. I stood and stretched. Maybe this place had a phone somewhere. I hadn’t thought to look until now. I’d never had to look for a phone. I always had my phone with me. For the seventh time that night I walked back through the glass walkway. Everything was white now. The ground was covered in snow, the trees frosted with it. I wished I had my camera with me to capture the contrast of the scene—the dark lines of the building and trees against the stark whiteness of the snow. I didn’t, so I kept walking. I started in the entryway, but couldn’t find a phone anywhere. There might have been one in the locked office, but a big desk blocked my view. Even if I could see one, I obviously didn’t have a key. Past a set of double glass doors was where half the books lived. The other half were behind me in the children’s section. It was darker in there, and I lingered by the doors for a while, taking in the space before me. Large, solid shelves filled the center, surrounded by tables and seating areas. Computers. Along the side wall were computers. I could send an email or a direct message. It was even darker once I stepped all the way inside. Some table lamps were spread throughout the area and I reached under the shade of one to see if they were for decoration or if they actually worked. It clicked on with a warm glow. By the time I made it to the computers, I had turned on three lamps. They did little to dispel the darkness in such a large space, but they created a nice ambiance. I laughed at myself. An ambiance for what? A dance party? A candlelit dinner for one? I sat down in front of a computer and powered it on. The first screen that lit up in front of me was a prompt to enter the library employee username and password. I groaned. Luck was not on my side tonight at all. I heard a creaking noise above me and looked up. I don’t know what I thought I’d see, but there was nothing but darkness. The building was old and probably just settling in for the night. Or maybe it was the snow or wind hitting an upper window. Another noise from above had me walking quickly to the hall. I jogged up the stairs and reached the front door. I pulled on the handles as hard as I could. The doors stayed firmly closed. I looked through the narrow side window. Cars drove by on the main avenue in front, but the sidewalks were empty. No one would hear me if I pounded on the glass. I knew this. I’d tried earlier. I was fine. There was no one in the library but me. Who else would be dumb enough to get trapped in a library? All by themselves. With no way out. Distraction. I needed a distraction. I had nothing with me, though. Books! This place was full of books. I would grab a book, find a faraway corner, and read until someone found me. Some might’ve even considered this scenario a dream come true. I could consider it that too. There was power in thoughts. This was my dream come true.

I write YA. I eat Junior Mints. Sometimes I go crazy and do both at the same time. My novels are: PIVOT POINT and its sequel SPLIT SECOND. And my contemporary novels: THE DISTANCE BETWEEN US, ON THE FENCE, THE FILL-IN BOYFRIEND, PS I LIKE YOU, and BY YOUR SIDE. My agent is the talented and funny Michelle Wolfson. To learn more about Kasie West and her books, visit her website.You can also find her on Goodreads and Twitter.

[autumn-elwood]

The Mysterious Girl

Sorry this is late. Finals. This is a story I wrote for a grade but rewrote for here. Also avalible: Blogger

I don’t really know how to start this but my name’s Eddie Hale. When I was seventeen, I lived in a small backwater town in California and worked part-time at a motel until 8pm. My dad would come every evening from his job to pick me up and by that time we’d both be dead tired. Occasionally we’d pick up some hitchhikers and drive them where they wanted to go.

Even years after that night I still remember every detail, each moment, which keeps me up at night to this day. It started off as perfectly normal night; Dad picked me up from the motel and we started to head home. Then we met her, the girl at the stop sign. She was a cute little thing with a weird retro fashion sense, or in other words, a hipster.

Her hair was a soft red like the billowing autumn leaves of fall that fell around her shoulders in a natural messy wave. Here eyes were a blue like denim and had a glow to them that could be described as unnerving or pretty. I opted for pretty. When I said she was cute, it was an understatement. She was eerily beautiful like a siren and I hadn’t even heard her voice.

She was standing at the corner waving her hand back and forth at us as fast as a hummingbird. Dad rolled down the window and smiled politely at her.

“Hello, looking for a ride?”

“Aye, mister.”

“You can sit in the back seat. Feel free to move some of the stuff.”

She opened the door and threw in an old carpet bag that looked like one of the ones my grandmother owned. She scooted over to the middle seat and smiled at me.

“Cheers, chaps. Name’s Judy Flint. Jenson Street if you’d be so kind,” her British accent softly dancing across my ears, rough and gentle at the same time like a whale song.

“John Hale and this is my son, Eddie. What brings you to the states?”

“Visiting my auntie and uncle while my mum and dad go on a trip around the world. It’ll be good for them. I can’t recall the last time they got a good snog with alone time to boot. I think I’s was four, maybe five.”

I scrunched up my nose while my dad let out a hearty laugh. Yuck! Who encourages their parents to have makeout sessions?

“You’re funny. You should become a comedian, kid.”

“Nah, a girl like me would never make it in show biz, I’m too nippy for them stuffy blokes and their girls. Besides, I want to write for the paper.”

Dad quirked an eyebrow before responding to her.

“Are you sure? The newspaper’s a dying business with everything being online now. I wouldn’t be surprised if they stopped selling papers by this time next year.”

“What’s ‘online’? Is that some weird septic thing?”

We were both shocked to say the least. How could someone not know about the internet in this era of ever evolving technology.

“Um… It doesn’t matter. So Judy, how old are you? Ed’s about to turn eighteen in a month.”

“I’m sixteen. Does this fit one ever open his gob?” Judy asked tapping my shoulder.

I was about to reply when she shrieked:

“Look out!”

Coming straight at our car was a 70’s classic painted a blue as deep as the sea. Judy let out a chilling ear shattering scream and the car swerved into a tree. I barely restrained myself from screaming as well when my shoulder slammed into the side door with enough force to pop it from its socket. Dad bounce off the steering wheel and grunted in pain as he sat up.

“Where's the air---,” he said before the airbag hit him in the face, thankfully far enough away from it to not break his nose.

He pushed it down while I glanced out the window. The car had vanished without a trace. I turned around to ask Judy if she was alright, but she was gone. I gasped and started tugging on my dad’s sleeve. He turned around and his eyes widened.

“Where’d she go? She can’t have disappeared!”

We looked around for her but she was no where. The car door hadn’t been opened and the papers in the back hardly even looked disturbed. Dad kept muttering variations of ‘impossible’ and ‘people don’t disappear into thin air’ all the way home. When we pulled up in the driveway he told me:

“We must have just imagined her, sleep deprived and all. Also if your mother asks we almost hit a deer.”

He went to bed after that, completely forgetting my injuries and his own in his shock. I sighed and went to find a sling until Mom got home from her late shift at the hospital. She could fix it. Mom was beyond mad, but I still told her Dad’s story. She yelled at him for hours about not going to the hospital first and watching the road.

“John, how could you do something so idiotic?!” she yelled, “I don’t care if you were embarrassed or whatever, you know you should have gone to the hospital immediately! Either one of you could have had a concussion or internal bleeding and Eddie dislocated his shoulder!”

“Roxanne…”

“Don’t you Roxanne me, you irresponsible moron!”

“I’m sorry, honey.”

Mom rough slapped another bandage on one of the cuts on his face.

“You’re damn right you're sorry, John Christopher Hale. You’re on thin ice mister… Setting a bad example for Eddie,” she muttered angrily.

Weeks after the incident I still couldn’t stop thinking about what happened. I was obsessed. I spent hours upon hours thinking about Judy to the point that even some of my friends were concerned.

“Eddie, man are you sure this girl was real? I’m with your old man on this one. You guys probably just imagined her,” my best friend, Lilith told me for the fifth time.

“And we just so happened to have the same hallucination. Bull.” “Well you guys are related…”

“She was real.”

Lilith sighed and leaned back on my desk chair dangerously.

“Whatever man,” she said. “Have you tried looking her up on the web?”

I flushed and remained silent. Lilith took this as my affirmative that I had not thought of that.

“You dork. I swear you’d get nothing done without me,” Lilith murmured lazily handing me my laptop.

I typed in ‘Judy Flint’ in the search bar hoping for a Facebook or something but not really expecting it considering Judy’s reaction to ‘online’. Then to my surprise something came up: a news article.

“Holy shit,” I breathed in disbelief.

Lilith jumped on my bed and leaned over my computer.

“What? You found her?”

“She’s dead.”

Litith stiffened and looked at me horrorified.

“Like, they found her corpse in the woods?”

“Yeah, in 1971.”

Lilith gave me angry look.

“Don’t fuck with me like that Eddie!”

“I’m not joking.”

Lilith crossed her arms and turned away from me.

“Are you sure it’s her?”

I placed the laptop in her lap and gestured to the picture attached to the article. I didn’t really care if she believed but I needed to stop looking at the photo. Judy Flint had been in our car. Judy Flint had been dead since the 70s. That was impossible. Ghosts aren’t real, they can’t be. Right?

“Oh my god.”

“Oh my god what?”

“I know her.”

I looked at Lilith incredulously.

“You know her?!” I cried.

“She’s in our photo albums. She’s my mom’s cousin, or she was my mom’s cousin.”

I glanced at the photo and then at my friend. I didn’t see it. I tilted my head.

“You have the same nose as her!”

She smacked me in the face. I froze and brought my hand to my cheek.

“What the hell?”

“I don't’ know! Eddie, how are you so calm? You just found out you had an encounter with a ghost! How are you not freaking out?!” Lilith whispered furiously.

“Because it was weeks ago. Because how am I supposed to react to this? Because I’m already freaking out. Jesus, Lilith! Ghosts aren’t supposed to be real!”

She stared at me unseeingly and shook her head.

“But you saw one.”

“I saw one,” I confirmed, half for her and half for me.

Lilith giggled quietly before bursting into hysterical laughter. She fell onto my chest and clutched tightly at my shirt.

“I have her nose!”

I wrapped my arms around her and layed my head in her hair. I didn’t understand why she was behaving this way but I didn’t know what else to do.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what, Lilith?”

“For not believing you, for believing you were crazy.”

I pulled away from her and looked her in the eyes. She gave me a vaguely terrified look.

“You thought I was crazy!”

Hope you enjoyed. Sorry if it feels incomplete but I thought it would be funny to leave it off there. Follow for regular updates and the ask box is open for prompts. Please inform me if you find any errors.

[ricardosousalemos]

Fugazi: In on the Kill Taker

If 1991 was The Year Punk Broke, and 1993 was when the underground had fully bubbled to the surface, between that, the world got Cliff Poncier, the singer of the band Citizen Dick in Cameron Crowe's 1992 movie Singles. Cliff (played by Matt Dillon) is a musician in a band with Eddie Vedder, Stone Gossard, and Jeff Ament of Pearl Jam, and has an album out on an independent label. To a large swath of America that was still getting used to Kurt Cobain’s face and R.E.M. winning Grammys, Cliff was the fictional bridge into the world of indie artists. He’s “like a renaissance man” we’re told, but it’s obvious he wants to make it big. Everybody wanted that, right?

Alt was the new normal. Things had gone from “Our band could be your life” to stadium concerts opening up for rock legends and poisonous major label contracts. Nirvana followed up Nevermind with the Steve Albini-produced In Utero, former SST bands Dinosaur Jr., Sonic Youth, and the Meat Puppets enjoyed radio and MTV airtime, countless kids got copies of the No Alternative compilation, and grunge was officially a runway style thanks to Marc Jacobs. Fugazi’s independent scene had become a global phenomenon, funded, largely, by corporate money.

Fugazi—reluctantly—turned into one of the last bands standing from the old guard of American punks. They became a band that mainstream kids and college radio stations wanted to check out at the perfect time in their career. Fugazi’s nonstop touring made their music more accessible to a wider audience than ever before. They had an organic buzz that led to better distribution deals, which allowed them to remain fiercely independent. To kids straddling the Generation X and Millennial borders, Fugazi were a touchstone, an introduction into the DIY mindset. Their ability to get people excited without a team of advertisers, big hit song, or anything besides word of mouth is, at this point, the stuff of legend.

And while their hardcore contemporaries were chasing big contracts and slots on the Lollapalooza tour, Fugazi teamed with groups like Positive Force—a Washington D.C. youth activist collective that took on poverty and George H.W. Bush’s war in the Middle East—to the band’s decision to only play all-ages shows with a low door price, Fugazi wanted to let you know they stood for things, and that maybe you should, too. Punk was more than just not knowing how to play an instrument but having something to say, it was about starting a zine, doing distribution, or going to a protest to fight inequality in all its forms. They were champions of the utopian freedom of the 1960’s filtered through the busted amps of punk. If there was any environment for Fugazi to put out the biggest record of their career, this was it.

Since the band considered live shows to be their most natural setting, Fugazi toured relentlessly between albums. One look at the band’s show archives finds them playing the Palladium in New York City to 3,000 people on a spring night in 1992, Father Hayes Gym Bar in Portland, ME to 750 people a few nights later, then wrapping up an East Coast tour at City Gardens in New Jersey to a hair under 1,000 before embarking on a tour of Europe two weeks later. At some point during 1992, even though none of the band’s 73 shows were played anywhere near the Midwest, they found time to go to Chicago to record with Steve Albini. Self-producing their second LP Steady Diet of Nothing left the band “pretty disappointed at the end of the day with that record,” as Ian MacKaye would later say. Bassist Joe Lally found the experience “weird,” and that going to Chicago to record new songs was less about getting a new album out of the sessions, “it was more about working with Steve.”

The resulting demos were not what the band or producer wanted. The song “Public Witness Program,” had the same buzzsaw guitar and sped-up tempo of what you’d expect from one of Albini’s own Shellac songs. “Great Cop,” sounded much more like a raging hardcore song than the band may have wanted. The sessions, which float around file sharing sites and YouTube, would end up being simply a footnote in American indie history; titans from the 1980s underground getting together to mess around. In the end, after they made it back home to D.C., the band received a fax from Albini saying, “I think we dropped the ball.”

The band just couldn’t beat the sound they created in their hometown, so they entered Inner Ear Studios with Don Zientara and Ted Niceley in the autumn of 1992. When they finally emerged playing their first show on February 4th, 1993, at the Peppermint Beach Club in Virginia Beach, the 1,200-person crowd got a set filled with almost all new material, peppered with older songs like “Suggestion” and “Repeater.” The band went on an American tour that stretched over 60 shows. In on the Kill Taker was released on June 30th, sold around 200,000 copies in its first week alone, and Fugazi cracked the Billboard Top 200. Later in August, they played a show in front of the Washington Monument to celebrate the 30th anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King’s march on Washington. Five-thousand people crowded the outdoor Sylvan Theater and this time, when they played their new songs, the crowd knew every word.

Like the albums that came before it, In on the Kill Taker begins small and grows into something larger. Maybe it’s a metaphor for how Fugazi sees the world, or at least the one they helped to build: “Facet Squared” opens with a few seconds of near-silence that builds into feedback, then some guitar mimicking a heartbeat checks in at the 15-second mark, joined in by the rest of the band who work together building up what sounds like it will be a slow jam with no real leader. The guitars, along with Joe Lally’s bass and Brendan Canty’s drums, all work together like a machine. MacKaye’s guitar takes over for a few seconds, signaling the next level the song is about to take. That buildup leads to one of MacKaye’s most furious deliveries as a singer, opening by claiming, “Pride no longer has definition,” with the kind of energy and anger he channeled in his younger days with Minor Threat. The song ends and cuts right into Canty pounding away to start the Guy Picciotto-fronted “Public Witness Program.” Complete with handclaps, a ringing chorus, and Picciotto yelling, “Can I get a witness” like a punk preacher; it showcases the band at their most driving. This is the closest you get to a polished Fugazi record, but by no means is it slick.

MacKaye, in an interview for Brandon Gentry’s book Capitol Contingency: Post-Punk, Indie Rock, and Noise Pop in Washington, D.C., 1991-1999, believed that little bit of shine was intentional, the result of producer Ted Niceley reacting to what he heard from the popular bands with the same DNA as Fugazi that were getting heavy airplay. “It’s that consciousness of radio,” MacKaye said, “that puts me off a little bit,” while also railing against the producer’s “total fixation on detail.” Yet it’s exactly that consciousness of radio and fixation to details that gives In on the Kill Taker its real edge. It’s hard to imagine a song like “Cassavetes,” with Picciotto conjuring up the ghost of the dead director, screaming, “Shut up! This is my last picture,” being sandwiched between the Smashing Pumpkins and Candlebox on a radio station’s playlist. The extra lacquer on top only makes it more scathing and visceral.

There’s no single on In on the Kill Taker. Besides “Waiting Room” somehow becoming one of the defining Gen. X anthems, Fugazi never set out to make any one song hold any more importance over the others to try and get radio program directors to pay attention. In fact, on their third album, they threw all curve balls, going from fast and hard to slow to mathy and instrumental. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Picciotto and MacKaye had helped lay the foundation for the hardcore and emo scenes in the ’80s with Rites of Spring and Minor Threat respectively. The roots of Fugazi were blooming out into hundreds of sub-genres and taking hold in regional scenes across the country. Fugazi appealed to such a vast swath of people, something a lot of punk, hardcore or indie bands couldn’t claim in 1993, and In on the Kill Taker had something for everyone.

Songs like “Smallpox Champion,” again with that slow start that builds, then blows up into Picciotto delivering a sermon, railing against America being a country founded on genocide, “The end of the future and all that you own.” While “23 Beats Off” sounds like a song from Wire’s early years literally stretched and pulled out to nearly seven minutes, MacKaye going from singing (as best he can) to screaming about a man who was once “at the center of some ticker tape parade,” who turns into “a household name with HIV.” You get a dose of the past, present, and future listening to these twelve tracks.

Lyrically, it’s also one of the more ambitious albums from the era. While burying any meaning beneath a pile of words like Cobain or bands like Pavement were so fond of doing was certainly du jour, Fugazi liked to mix things up. Picciotto flexed that English degree he got from Georgetown, while MacKaye’s muses were Marx and issues of The Nation. The band blends political with poetic, while sometimes erring on the side of the latter. If there’s any deeper meaning behind “Walken’s Syndrome,” besides being an ode to Christopher Walken’s character in Annie Hall, it’s difficult to tell what that is. “Facet Squared,” with MacKaye singing about how “flags are such ugly things,” could either be about nationalism or the facades people wear when they go out in public, you pick. Maybe that’s what they wanted the listener to do.

Fugazi were so unbelievably popular that it was more so the idea of Fugazi had caught on like it was just another adjective like goth or grunge. Even with their famous anti-merchandise stance, an entire small economy of bootleg shirts popped up, including the infamous “This Is Not A Fugazi T-Shirt” t-shirt. The press also took even more notice. Rolling Stone, in a positive review, said Fugazi had inherited the title of “The only band that matters” from the Clash, while Spin wasn’t so hot on it, calling the members “radical middle-class white boys” and the album “rigid, predictable.” The food critic Jonathan Gold, whose music writing tends to be overlooked when discussing his oeuvre, gave it three out of four stars in his LA Times review. In on the Kill Taker wasn’t hailed as a masterpiece or an album that was changing the game, but everybody needed to weigh in on Fugazi.

And as a profile that came out in the Washington Post a month after the album’s release showed, everybody wanted to be associated with them. The article mentions fans like Eddie Vedder, “rock’s couple of the moment,” Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love, and Michael Stipe, who shows up to one of the band’s shows in Los Angeles: “He dances the hokey-pokey in the street in front of the Capitol Theatre with Fugazi drummer Brendan Canty,” in a very 1990s moment. In on the Kill Taker isn’t brought up until somewhere near the bottom of the piece. It was almost like saying that you liked or knew them was like a badge of honor, it absolved you of your own sins. The music was eclipsed by the message.

Mainstream interest in Fugazi was never as strong as it was during the period surrounding their third album. Two years later, when they released Red Medicine, the spotlight had shifted to pop-punk bands like Green Day and the Offspring. Fugazi continued to put out albums and pack shows that usually cost around five dollars, but the press was less interested in figuring out this crazy band with their wild set of ideals.

Many of the people who did pay attention to Fugazi, however, reacted. Like Brian Eno said of the initial 10,000 or so people who heard the Velvet Underground when their first album came out, the hundreds of thousands of people who bought In on the Kill Taker or saw the band as they trekked across America, Canada, Japan, Australia and New Zealand, that year and beyond, were impacted in some way. Maybe it was one kid out of 1,200 in attendance on September 27th, 1993 who saw them in Philly with the Spinanes and Rancid, or another of the 100 who saw them in Kyoto, Japan. Maybe a 15-year-old girl read about them in a magazine, this band that everybody was talking about, and decided to start her own band. Maybe it was a kid in El Paso, or a kid in Iowa City, or Greensboro. Maybe they inspired another kid to start a zine, which led them to realize they wanted to be a writer. Maybe 10,000 teens were so moved by Fugazi in 1993 that the ideas the band lived and worked by were ingrained into how those people have tried to go out and face the world.