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cambria-writes · 2 years

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it is sunday my dudes!

a bit of a later update because i did, in fact, go see heilung last night and stayed up way too late and then got sick. (stress and tired sick not like, sick sick.) i think i was able to proofread this two or three times, but if i missed anything please let me know!

also who’s guessed what the chapter titles are

pairing: eddie munsonx reader rating: T warning: mention of minor character death, vague mention of attempted suicide, loose mention of severe depression, lots of swearing, underaged drinking (because this is still the states), spicy topic but only if you squint and only for a fraction of a second word count: 4,129

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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖎𝖛𝖊: 𝔇𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔖𝔭𝔢𝔩𝔩

You don’t sleep.

You spend Eddie’s entire watch with eyes wide opened looking at the ceiling. Chrissy Cunningham is dead and some kind of inter-dimensional asshole is responsible for it. And for some god-forsaken reason, you and Eddie both have to rely on a bunch of kids and their glorified babysitters to keep you out of trouble.

It’s literally the worst idea you ever could’ve thought of, but considering you and Eddie are the ones the least knowledgeable about whatever the fuck is going on... you don’t really have a choice but to accept to be sitting ducks.

You can hear Eddie pacing in the hallways. Has been for the past several hours. Sometimes you hear him slide down a wall to sit on the floor, only to get back up a few minutes later to resume his pacing. You absently scratch at the raised scar on your left arm. You’re wondering if maybe you should give Eddie the full story behind it when you hear him walk in the room again.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked, worried, sitting up and scooting back to have your back against the well.

“What, you mean besides the fact that I’m the prime suspect for the murder of a seventeen year old cheerleader?”

You pull your knees up to your chest, wrap your arms around them. “Shit, sorry I asked.” You mutter, resting your chin on your knees.

Eddie sighs, and you feel the foot of the bed dip when he sits down. “Fuck, sorry, I didn’t...” You see the shadow of his arm when he covers his face with his hand.

“I know,” you say quietly, drumming your fingers against your legs. “All of this is fucked.”

“Super fucked,” he agrees, and you can vaguely see him lay back on the bed. “We shouldn’t have run away.”

“Ed, there’s nothing we could’ve–”

“We don’t know that!” He shouts, and you can’t help but flinch at the volume. “Shit, sorry. Sorry I, fuck.”

You uncurl and crawl forward and feel around until your hand finds a shoulder. Grab it a bit more firmly when he flinches.

“Eddie, there’s nothing we could have done. We didn’t know anything,“ you say, hoping that your voice sounds as firm as you want it to. ”You heard Max. Nancy’s gonna try and snoop around Forest Hills tomorrow to see if she can find anything out. Steve and the kids are gonna try and see if they can figure out why it was Chrissy. The best we can do is just...“

“Wait,” Eddie finished for you, after you trail off. “I know. I fucking hate it.”

You pull your hand away and pull your legs under you to kneel on the bed. Bite at the inside of your cheek for a second before you speak up again.

“I could try to do it,” you say hesitantly, and the uncertainty you feel makes it sound more like a question.

Eddie sits up and turns to look at you. “Try what again?”

“The whole plane shifting,” you say, digging your fingers into your knees. “If I bring the guns with me–”

“No,” Edide cuts you off, pulling a leg up on the bed to face you. ”Absolutely not.“

“I think Vecna’s the one who kicked me out.”

A second of silence.

“You what?“

“When I did the thing earlier,” you continue, balling your hands into fists to stop the shaking. “There was a man who talked to me before I landed face first on the floor. I think that was Vecna.”

You can hear Eddie swearing under his breath. “And that’s not an even bigger reason to not do that again because?”

“Maybe I can talk to him again or something, I don’t know. I just...”

You feel Eddie getting up and off the bed before you see him.

“Fuck this, I’m too sober for this shit,” is all he offers in the way of an explanation before walking out of the room. You hurry after him the best you can, trying not to trip over anything or run into any walls. You slam your hand against the fridge door when he reaches for it.

“Are you insane? We’re basically wanted fugitives and your genius idea is to get drunk?”

Eddie sighs and turns around.

“Look, neither of us can fucking sleep, I’m losing my mind, you’re suggesting doing the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard, so yeah, in comparison, getting drunk and passing the fuck out sounds like a fantastic idea,” He says, putting his hand back on the fridge door handle. “Get your hand off.”

You stare him down for a second. “Fine. Make sure the fridge light stays off.”

You take a few steps back. Eddie opens the fridge slowly, swats at your shoulder for you to hold the fridge’s light switch down while he grabs what’s left of a twelve pack of beer.

“How did you even know that was in there?” You ask, once the fridge door is closed and Eddie puts the case down on the counter.

“He’s a dealer?” Eddie says, that like that shoulder be self explanatory. He grabs your hand and places a cold bottle in it. You feel his hand cover yours for a second while he seems to use one of his rings to pop the cap off.

You stare down at the bottle with equal amounts of incredulity and suspicion. You hear Eddie pop the cap off his own bottle and knock it against yours.

“Cheers to the town freaks,” he says, before taking a very long and audible gulp.

“Cheer to that, I guess,” you say, and chug as much of the bottle as you can before the carbonation starts to hurt your throat.

“Woah there,” Eddie says, bringing your arm down. “Slow down, you’ll make yourself sick.”

You shrug him off and take another more reasonable sip of the beer, and turn around to sit on the kitchen floor, against the fridge door. You hear Eddie take another drink before sitting down next to you, legs stretch out in front of him.

“Wanna play twenty questions while we wait for this to kick in?” you ask, leaning your head back and turning slightly to look at him.

“Sure,” he snorts, putting the bottle down on the floor between his legs. “You start?”

“Alright,” you say, taking a second to think. “Okay. Favourite Band?”

He chuckles. “Corroded Coffin. Yours?”

“Hold up, who the fuck?”

“It’s my band,” Eddie shrugs. “Answer the damn question.”

“Blue Öyster Cult,” you answer, after some consideration. Eddie makes a sound you register as disgust. “Shut up,” you say, and punch his shoulder. “They’re a good fucking band. Do you still play guitar?”

“You know it baby,” Eddie says, and the pride in his voice makes you grin. He takes a sip of his beer and puts the bottle back down. “Do you still write?”

The grin falls from your face and you take a sip. “No. Not after I... not after what happened. Do you write your own lyrics?”

“Sometimes,” Eddie answers. You see him twisting one of his rings. “What... what happened? For that,” he asks, waving vaguely at your left arm.

“Pass,” you immediately say, chugging down another third of your beer.

“Hey, no, that’s not how this works,” Eddie complains, pulling the beer bottle away from you. “Answer the question or you don't get this back.”

“That’s bullshit!” You whisper harshly, leaning over to try to grab the bottle back. When you see that Eddie’s arms are clearly longer than yours and that there’s no way you can get it back, you settle back in your spot and cross your arms. “It’s... not something I like to talk about.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Eddie acknowledges. “How many people have you talked about it with?” You stay silent. “Yeah. Should probably get that off of your chest at some point. Might as well be now.”

“It was...” You groan, letting your head tilt back and smack against the fridge. “It was three years ago. I’d been having those nightmares so often I just... sometimes I woke up and I couldn’t tell if I was awake or not,” you start, closing your eyes against the sting of tears. “I thought—when it happened I thought that, if I just...” You clear your throat with the intention of continuing, but Eddie pats your knee.

“I’m good. Sorry for...” He trails off, and takes a second to chug the rest of the beer. You look on, speechless, as he reaches over his head for the case still on the counter. Clears his throat, too, and grabs another beer. Grabs a second one to put in front of you. “Your, uh, your turn.”

You sniffle and paw the tears from your eyes and clear your throat again. “Right. Um, okay.” Slap your thighs and lean back against the fridge. “Why do you wear your bandana like that?”

You can almost feel Eddie freeze mid-gulp. He sputters and covers his mouth for a second.

“Wear—my ban—what do you mean ‘like that’?” You can’t help but laugh.

“Wow, okay,” you take another sip of your nearly-empty beer. “I don’t know that I need a straight answer with the way you just reacted, damn.”

“No, seriously, what do you mean,” Eddie asks again, though it sounds much more like a statement and his voice sounds a little bit too steady. When you turn your head to look at him, you almost flinch with how intently he’s staring right back at you.

“Uh,” you flounder, hurriedly looking away. “It just uh. You—do you know what flagging is?”

You hear the bottle being put down on the floor.

“Do you?”

“Is that your question?” you joke, drinking the last dregs of your first bottle and reaching for the second. Eddie stops you by putting his hand on top of the bottle. You slowly look back at him, and it feels like forever before he sighs and takes his hand back and nurses his own beer.

“Sure, that’ll be my question,” he says, and you’re not sure if you appreciate that he’s looked away if that’s what he’s asking you.

“...yeah,” you answer quietly. “I do. How’s Wayne doing?”

You chuckle nervously along when Eddie laughs. “That’s your question. How’s my uncle doing? Seriously?”

“Well yeah, what the fuck,” you say defensively, bringing the bottle closer to your chest. “I haven’t seen him in years, I wanna know how the old man’s doing. What’s so wrong with that?”

Eddie shakes his head and chuckles. “He’s fine, doing alright. As fine as he can be given that he’s housing the town f—”

“I swear on my father’s Elvis vinyl collection you better not call yourself the town freak again or so help me god,” you threaten, tossing the bottle back.

“Don’t need to since you just did,” he replies, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Oh fuck right off. Ask your damn question.”

You go back and forth like that for a good while. Eddie keeps asking things about what you like, which bands you’ve been able to see live, which college you would’ve gone to if you had the choice, what your major would’ve been. You ask him music related questions, like what his favourite brand of amp is, which key he prefers to compose in, how he even goes about composing in the first place.

It’s the first time in four years you get the sense that this is how normal people your age are supposed to act. And feel.

As time wears on, you unfold your legs and, now that you’ve kicked off your own shoes, knock your foot against Eddie’s for a bit. You slow down on the drinking after the second bottle, so by the time you’ve finished your third, he’s already halfway through his sixth.

“Dude,” you breath, looking up at the kitchen window. “Fat load of good doing watches did. It’s fucking daylight already.”

Eddie groans and lifts his arm, shakes the sleeve up to look at his watch.

“Shit, it’s like, half past six,” he says, and lets his arm drop back to the floor. “Man, I’m dead.”

“No shit,” you snort, waving at the small crowd of bottles off to his right. “You drank half a pack, you raging alcoholic.”

“Yeah, uh huh, whatever,” he mumbles, leaning his head back against the counter. “If no one’s busted through the door yet I’m pretty sure we can sleep.”

“We should probably sleep,” you agree. But neither of you make a move to get up. Instead, you chug the rest of your third beer before leaning forward to put it on the floor with your other two empty bottles. “Problem is that I really don’t wanna get up.”

“Cheers to that,” Eddie says, lifting his bottle to chug the rest of it after you. “We gotta, though. Come on,” he continues, making a show of getting up, using the counter to prop himself up and extending a hand down to you.

You sigh wearily and grab his wrist. You very much ignore whatever it is that hits you in the gut when you feel his rings around your wrist in return.

You both stumble to keep your balance. Walking down the hall, though, you can’t help but laugh at how Eddie needs to keep an arm braced against a wall.

“No one asked the peanut gallery,” he grumbles, swinging himself through the door of the bedroom and heading straight for the bed.

You stall in the doorway, though. Suddenly, sleeping alone on the hard floor with just a pillow doesn’t seem as appealing as it did in the dead of night.

After orienting himself the right way up on the bed, Eddie lifts himself up on his elbows to frown at you. “Hey, you good?”

You open and close your mouth once or twice before finding your voice. “I, um. I’m not entirely sure...”

Eddie rolls his eyes and sighs before scooting over on the bed to get closer to the wall. He pats the space next to him.

“Come on you coward,” he says, though by the time you stand next to the bed, his eyes are closed and he already looks half asleep.

“...yeah, alright,” you say, sitting on the bed for a second before lying down. “Just don’t cuddle me in your sleep. I don’t need to deal with an awkward morning wood situation. I’ve got enough on my mind already.”

Eddie snorts in response, but doesn’t say anything.

He’s out like a light in minutes.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you whisper to yourself, pulling the pillow from the floor and shoving it behind your head. “I’m gonna be fine.”

And though it takes longer than you’d like—the sun’s over the horizon by the time you do—but you eventually fall asleep, too.

March 22nd, 1986

“...one of you guys please answer? I’m seriously about to hijack a car and drive over there myself. You know I’ll do it, Eddie.”

You groan and turn over in bed, turning away from the obnoxious sound. Though you try to block out the noise by hiding your head under the pillow, the constant static of the walkie talkie tuning in and out is starting to wear on your very last, tired, fraying nerve. When you manage to get yourself to sit up on the side of the bed, you’re about to grab the walkie and whisper some very unkind things into it. Eddie sweeps into the room with a… dishtowel? Thrown over his shoulder, for some reason? And snatched the thing up from the ground.

“Henderson I swear to Christ if you keep badgering us every half hour I’ll replace every single damn can of hairspray with contact glue,” he growls, pacing around the room with a hand on his hips. “Copy that?”

“Jesus, no need to be touchy,” Dustin answers, and if you weren’t so annoyed you’d actually find his indignation funny. “Wait, no, fuck off! I’ve been trying to get an answer from one of you for like half an hour!”

“Yeah, uh huh,” Eddie starts, turning around to throw you a quick wave. “Ever occur to you that maybe we’d need to sleep considering we’ve just been exposed to fucking Hell 2.0 and couldn’t get a god damn wink?”

The banter leaves with Eddie once he steps back into the hallway. You take a deep breath and let yourself fall back on the mattress. You’re not hungover, not really. But you’re also not exactly used to plane shifting, drinking and running from the law while being sleep deprived all at once.

It’s a lot. It’s a lot to contend with.

You throw an arm over your eyes if only just to avoid looking at the alarm clock on the desk. You don’t think you want to know what time it is. So, instead, after giving yourself some time to breathe and relax—as much as one can given the impossible scenario you’re in—you get up and follow the smell of freshly made coffee.

In the kitchen, Eddie is busy in front of the stove making pancakes, judging by the already sizable stack on a plate on the counter next to him.

“Siddown,” he says, though he doesn’t turn around to look at you.

“You can cook,” you say, a little slack-jawed, as you slowly sit down. You also notice that the table is significantly cleaner than you think you remember it being.

“You can cook,” Eddie repeats back, pitching his voice to imitate yours. “No shit, Sherlock,” he scoffs, taking a step back from the stove and perfectly throwing and flipping the pancake before it lands back in the pan. “How many you want?”

“Ugh,” you groan, sliding the chair back so you can rest your head on the table. “Do I really have t—”

“Yeah, no, eating isn’t negotiable, princess.”

“Did you just call me princess?”

Eddie visibly freezes, though it’s only for a fraction of a second. He scoops the pancake up with a spatula before carefully dropping it on the increasingly large stack.

“Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat. Still hasn’t turned around to look at you once. “Sorry, force of habit.”

You frown but hum in acknowledgement, but remain quiet after that. Eddie doesn’t say anything else until he’s done making another two pancakes. There’s nine on the stacked plate now, and after he puts that down in the center of the table, he grabs two other plates from a cupboard and two forks from a drawer before sitting down in front of you.

“No maple syrup?” you ask, grabbing a fork and stabbing the pancake on top of the stack to bring it to your plate.

“I honestly wouldn’t trust what’s in that fridge,” Eddie says, stacking three pancakes on his plate and immediately going to town on them. “I had to use water for these cause the milk looked about ready to develop capitalism,” he adds, talking around a full mouth.

“Gross, don’t talk while you chew,” you laugh lightly, cutting a small triangle out of the pancake to taste it.

It’s not terrible, but the lack of eggs and milk does make a noticeable difference. Considering you’re basically a fugitive for the next however long, though, you don’t feel like you have too much room to complain. Taking a look around the kitchen, you figure that there are definitely worse places to be stuck hiding out in.

“And worse people,” you mutter to yourself, tearing another piece of pancake to chew.

“Hm? What was that?”

You cough when you try to swallow. “Not-nothing. What did uh, did Henderson give you any news?”

Eddie’s shoulders slump and the change of his expression would have probably been comical in almost any other situation. Puts his fork down and leans back in his chair with both hands flat on the table.

“We are, in fact, wanted murder suspects,” he replies slowly, drumming his fingers against the edge of the table. “Well, I’m a wanted murder suspect, you’re apparently wanted for aiding and abetting.” You stay quiet and nod as you look down at the table. “Wheeler’s—Nancy, she was headed to the trailer park this morning to see if she can find anything out. She was able to let ‘em know about some guy named Victor Creel, and Harrington and his Merry Hobbits are off doing god knows what.”

“That’s,” you start, taking a deep breath and scooting closer to the table. “That's a lot.” Eddie nods quietly and you try your best to eat the rest of the pancake despite the lump in your throat.

“You know...” Eddie’s voice trails off when you hold your hand up to him.

You can hear chiming.

“It’s happening again,” you say, slowly standing from the chair. “I can hear the grandfather clock again.” You wait for a bit, closing your eyes to focus on the sound. “Four. Four times. It’s coming from... that way, I think.”

Eddie turns around to look at where you’re pointing, in the general direction of the back of the house. You can see him frown when you sit down, and jump in your seat when he whips around.

“No fucking way, that’s Forest Hills.”

“Yeah, and the rest of fucking Hawkins,” you scoff, leaning back in with crossed arms and tapping your foot on the floor. “We’re at the edge of town basically. Everything’s going to be in that direction.”

Eddie grumbles but leans forward. You can already tell he’s determined not to let this go.

“How close was it? Compared to before?” he asks, sliding his plate to the side to clasp his hands on the table.

“I don’t know?” You frown, biting down on your lip to think. “Last time, like when I heard it driving to your place?”

“Y-you what,” Eddie stutters, and you let your mouth fall open. Had you not mentioned that?

“Shit,” you whisper. “I told—when I met up with Harrington and the kids, I heard the grandfather clock ching when I was with them,” you start, bringing your hands down to wring them in your lap. “But I... I heard it when I got to your place, too.”

The chair practically falls backwards with how fast Eddie gets up and rushes at the walkie talkie.

“Hey hey hey someone better answer because we have something really important going on here,” he says, panic bubbling in his voice with every word, smashing the speak button repeatedly. “Hello?!”

“Oh my god, would you just,” You rush over to Eddie and snatch the thing out of his hands. “You’re gonna fucking break it, what the hell’s wrong with you?”

“You heard the clock before Chrissy fucking died,” he spits, and it’s in the shocked silence that the walkie crackles to life in your hands.

“Jesus Christ man calm down,” Steve says, and you slowly bring the device up to your face. “What’s so damn—”

“I heard the clock before Chrissy died,” you explain maybe a little too quickly, eyes locked with Eddie’s. “And I just heard it again now.”

“How many times did you hear it before last night?” Eddie asks, taking a step forward and putting his hands on your shoulders.

“I, uh,” you bite your lips and look off into space to remember. There was the time in the woods, there was the school parking lot... “I guess twice? I think? Two or three times.”

“How many times did you hear it before—” Dustin’s voice comes over the walkie, which Eddie snatches from your hands.

“Two or three times,” he answers, walking back until he can lean back into the kitchen counter. “I just asked.”

“How many times have you heard it today?” comes through the walkie.

You balk, because though you’ve heard it once today, you have no idea if you would’ve heard it more if you’d actually been awake.

“Just. Just the one time so far, she just woke up,” Eddie answers for you. You nod at him to confirm. “Yeah, just once.”

“Still no idea where it’s coming from?”

“Quoth the cleric, ‘we’re basically at the edge of town, everything’s in that direction’, so no. Just that it’s closer to you than us, probably.” You roll your eyes at his dramatic reenactment of your previous statement.

All at once, you frown and hold your hand up, stopping Eddie before he can open his mouth again.

“Wait, hold up. The cleric?”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie starts, and despite the fact that you can tell his hands are shaking and his eyes still look a little wild, there’s a smirk growing on his face. “You got Detect Magic, Astral Spell and Plane Shift. What else are you gonna be?”

@anothermunsonsimp @doratheignora

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spookyheaad · 3 years

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I've recently become obsessed with the song Svanrand by Heilung. When I listened to the Hellblade Trailer version of the band's song In Maidjan first, then Svanrand a picture of an idea I've been sitting on began to form.

There's a Norse practice that's not entirely well known about, called Seiđr(probably spelled wrong because phones don't have keys for every language). Seiđr is essentially a practice of Divination magic through various means. In this case sex was a common way to go about it, dancing(though the sort was never specified no matter how research I did on it) of some kind, and a few other things I may be forgetting. One thing I do know is Seiđr, like most magic in Norse culture was viewed as feminine. Thus men doing it was often seen as something to look down on. Guys caught doing it were often beaten from what my research has shown me. I also know it may have come from the fact the Norse had a very 'odd', for lack of better term, view on gays and lesbians. While perfectly fine with two women being partners, they were only cool with gay guys that were 'tops'. Bottoms were seen as submissive, and thus not manly. Which was apparently worthy of disdain if not beatings? Norse culture is just...strange to research sometimes seriously. Seiđr was also a practice overseen and started by the Vanir Gullveig. Who some believe became Freya later after the whole thrice burned thrice born incident.

Anyways....listening to those two songs in tangent with each other, I had a thought..again. That being what if Death was a practioner of Seiđr as a way to sort of reclaim his sexuality among other possible reasons? One that could not only protect himself(I mean any Norsemen who would mess with Death would probably not win that fight), but others as well. Perhaps even taking on a teacher role at one point as well, and probably being one of very VERY few males to take such a role. I put this idea forth mainly to see what ya think. Sorry about the massive length, always had a chatterbox issue at times heheh...

Oh it’s very much ok haha, I tend to ramble a lot when I talk about things I like.

I like the idea of Death trying to reclaim sex, as it is definitely tainted to him. This actually partially goes off of an idea that I have, that Death was always more quiet and gentle (by Nephilim standards), or would enjoy things like books and crafting. I believe that Absalom saw this in Death, and because Death is a Firstborn and henceforth a pillar of the Nephilim community in which all who came after them looked up to, he beat the kindness/gentleness out of him; it was not warlike, it was not powerful, therefore Absalom wanted nothing to do with it and nothing of the sort within Nephilim culture.

I see The Nephilim as holding the Spartan way of life: might is right, strength prevails over all. The weak are left to die. So Absalom saw beating the kinder, more softer aspects of Death’s personality out of him as doing it for Death’s sake; because Absalom had an odd way of showing that he cared no doubt, and wanted Death to be respected.

I really think something of that nature happened back on the Nephilim homeworld especially because Death is so quick to pretend that he isn’t kind or does not care, when in reality he silently cares very much.

Anything gentle or intimate has been ruined, and he needs to realize that fragility is very much equal or more powerful than brute strength. Vulnerability/the ability to be vulnerable is very much a strength in itself.

As for sex, I believe that Death needs to be able to trust someone very very much to even think about matters of a sexual nature. I actually just posted a long post about my Darksiders OC, Zemira; who I made to be a partner to Death, and she helps him open up more and acclimates him to things like intimate touch, and allowing himself to be vulnerable and gentle.

I’ve also always seen Death as taking on some form of teacher/father (or a mix of both) role towards War, Strife, and Fury; as I love the idea that he raised the three of them.

#really interesting ask!!!#darksiders #darksiders 2 #darksiders 3 #darksiders death #darksiders genesis #darksiders war #darksiders strife #darksiders fury #darksiders abaslom #headcanons #darksiders headcanons #ask #1stunseeliefaelass

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themageiboline · 4 years

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My Top Five - scratch that let’s make that six - Bands

“Tagged” by my friend @minnesotadruids (whenever he does a post like this he “tags” all who might see it and be interested in participating.)

1 - Heilung

This is one I feel is deserving of a bit of a spill in praise of them. They’re easily one of my favorite tribal pagan folk bands by far for several reasons. Just listen to the vocal feats of Maria Franz in In Maidjan in their first live show ever at Castlefest 2017. When I stumbled across that live show I told myself I would only listen to the first song, only to find myself totally enthralled still listening and still watching 40 minutes later. It’s especially good when you have great bass so you can really feel those drums pop.

In spite of its intensity I have fallen asleep to their song Krigsgaldr (Content Warning for the link - explained in a moment) in a playlist of mine a few times before. After watching the disturbing linked video however it uhh well it hits pretty different now. While only in the form of moving tribal pictographs, sort of like that which you’d find in cave paintings, it still nevertheless depicts violent scenes of a peaceful village being literally raped and pillaged before being forced to fight back to protect themselves from invaders. So for obvious reasons, I can’t recommend the music video to anyone struggling with any kind of related traumas. If you decide to check it out be sure to pay close attention to the English lyrics on the track because that is one damned fine deep work of poetry.

Best of all, as a pagan folk band with a strong Germanic influence they recognized the threat posed by Neo-Nazis and other fascistic ideologs to their fans, who might try to take their message of healing and solidarity across cultures and instead use it as an inspiration for hate, and vigorously and proactively condemned and rejected them and their ilk right from the start.

That message of healing and human solidarity is reaffirmed in the prayer that, to my understanding, is recited at the start of every live performance “ritual” and included in every video:

Remember, that we all are brothers All people, beasts, trees and stone and wind We all descend from the one great being That was always there Before people lived and named it Before the first seed sprouted

2 - Rage Against The Machine

An old one but I can never go wrong with RATM, or anything I’ve heard Zach de la Rocha put out or be involved with for that matter such as One Day As A Lion for example. There’s just something about that sense of controlled rage his voice brings to their songs that I can’t get enough of. Plus their lyricism is absolute fire, every time.

Also having been just looking further into how West Virginia has suppressed the Battle of Blair Mountain of 1921 from being spoken about in their history classes those lyrics in the song from that gif (Bulls on Parade) are really relevant to my mood right now...

3 - Run The Jewels

A lot of politically charged rap with a similar message and focus to RATM, and includes Zach de la Rocha on a few of their tracks too. I’ve heard it described by some as this generation’s RATM.

Here are two examples I highly recommend you stop and listen to now if you haven’t and you’re a fan of this genre:

Ju$t is great and the lyricism is just fucking fantastic.

pulling the pin never fails to give me chills. The lyricism and vocals from Mavis Staples is just... It’s powerful, especially given this past years... Events.

What’s more is this album released within the first week of the start of the George Floyd protests. Listening to pulling the pin with the emotions I was going through at that time really cut deep to say the least.

4 - Four Fists

This’ll be the last political hiphop band I swear. Tbh I mainly include them just because of their songs Nobody’s Business and Annihilation which I just personally think are criminally underrated among the genre.

5 - Wardruna

Raw, powerful, and authentic Norse folk music with Einar Selvik’s stellar vocals and rich passion and understanding of ancient Norse musical instruments and traditions.

6 - Eluveitie

I know this is extra but I couldn’t make a list like this without naming my favorite Celtic tribal band by far, who were also largely the ones who turned me onto the genre and even Celtic culture as a whole to begin with. It’s probably not a dramatization to say that their music literally helped me find my own spirituality.

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bookwyrmbran · 5 years

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Day 16: an Odin playlist

Day 16: Create a song list that makes you think about your deity. Give a brief reason for choosing each song, and provide links to youtube videos for other people to enjoy! You can devote the energy you put into this project as an offering for your deity.

Okay, so for this one I am very carefully AVOIDING songs which specifically mention the Old Man. That means no Heilung, no Leslie Fish, no Skald. All of these are wonderful! I highly recommend! But I feel like the point of this prompt is choosing stuff that actually requires explaining (or at least that’s how I’m reading it; ymmv) and those are all kind of just right out there and deliberately on the nose.

Also, there are 18 of these, because it makes me chortle.

1. “The Hymn of Acxiom,” Vienna Teng. “Leave your life open, you don’t have to hide / Someone is gathering every crumb you drop/ these mindless decisions and moments you long forgot.” Creepy-ass choral song for a creepy-ass Watcher, absolutely enchantingly gorgeous as long as you don’t listen too hard to the lyrics and absolutely terrifying once you do.

2. “Strange Waters,” Bruce Cockburn. “You’ve been leading me/ beside strange waters/ streams of beautiful lights in the night/ but where is my pastureland in these dark valleys?/ if I lose my grip, will I take flight?” Loooooots of seiðr feels, lots of wanderer feels, the sense of endless travel in strange places drawn there by a stranger God.

3. “So Come Back, I Am Waiting,” Okkervil River. I can’t actually pick a piece of this to quote here. All of it is just too damn on the nose. But that satisfaction, that awareness that oh yes, you might be running right now, you might be elsewhere right now, but that’s fine. He’ll be waiting. “There’s plenty of time to make you mine.”

4. “Edge of the Western World,” Bone Poets Orchestra. Okay, this one is maybe a bit on the nose, a raven throwing a party at the edge of the world, but like: “The tasty things a lonely raven mind requires/ spread out beneath your wings on the shore/ Never met a crow who found the end of desire, so quoth the hungry Raven: Always more.” (I get big Two-Man Con vibes from this one, ngl.)

5. “Catapult,” Arctic Monkeys. “Both sides, and softly came the growl from both sides/ and if his whisper splits the mist/ just think of what he’s capable of with his kiss/ Nice try -- you cannot turn away but nice try.” Two for one: sex AND the Old Con’s particular style of captivating bastardry!

6. “Big God,” Florence + The Machine. Do I really need to explain this one? Other, maybe, than mentioning that one time it turned on at a very inopportune moment (with accompanying leering via godphone) that nearly resulted on me choking on air while trying to be a Very Serious Professional?

7. “Boots,” Kesha. “So slide over here, tell me the truth, I know you love me wearing nothing but your boots.” Laughing at both myself and Him for this one: my experience with Him is that He’s worse than all the rest combined when it comes to being very fucking grabby about anything I wear that might possibly be considered a reference back to Him. Corvids.

8. “Death Whispered a Lullaby,” Opeth. Just… the whole thing. I’m not sure it’s meant to be soothing, and yet….

9. “Der letzte Tanz,” Elisabeth, das Musical. Y’all. This entire thing is so much fun, I highly recommend it, it is fantastic. Preening over-the-top incredibly dramatic psychopomp getting huffy at people (and liking them better!) for not just, like, being immediately entranced, it’s great. “Der letze Tanz, der letzte Tanz, gehört allein nur mir -- den letzen Tanz, den letzen Tanz, tanz’ ich allein mit dir!”

10. “The Hunter’s Star,” Shearwater. “As forests bow/ and blacken the air/ as the canopies burn away/ and the arc-light fades/ and no gull remains/ to repeat its call/ only now would you long/ for the ancient boughs….” This has very Ragnarok and/or twilight of the gods feels to me, also very much wanderer who has forgotten where home is, if ever they knew.

11. “Witch,” The Bird And The Bee. “Yes, I am a carnival/ a house of mirrors/ and I will con you/ and all my tricks/ and all my magic/ will keep you dizzy/ with desire.” Oðin as drag queen, or: what happens on Samsø stays on Samsø. Maybe. Theoretically. (It totally doesn’t.)

12. “Silent Lucidity,” Queensrÿche. “There’s a place I like to hide/ a doorway that I run through in the night./ Relax, child, you were there/ you only didn’t realize and you were scared./ (If you open your mind for me/ you won’t rely on open eyes to see.)” This one is like. I get shivers from listening to it with the Old Man in mind. (@grimnirslee this is why I startled so hard when you asked about Dreamfather)

13. “Somebody To Die For,” Hurts. “I’ve got nothing left to live for/ got no reason yet to die/ But when I’m standing in the gallows/ I’ll be staring at the sky/ Because no matter where they take me/ in death I will survive/ and I will never be forgotten/ with you by my side.” Can we say Havamal callback? All things die but the good name, the memory, and He’s got a long memory; where better to be kept?

14. “Come Away To The Water,” Maroon 5. Hard for me to pull any one part out; the entire thing feels very viscerally like the Old Wolf laying a path of desire straight to waiting jaws, a ravenous maw. To be devoured, rent, to be eaten by a God (and perhaps from there reconstituted: but first the devouring, divine.)

15. “Irgendwie, Irgendwo, Irgendwann,” Nena. “Im Sturz durch Zeit und Raum/ erwacht aus einem Traum/ nur ein kurzer Augenblick/ dann kehrt die Nacht zurück.” Interacting with Him feels sometimes like tumbling through the vast chaotic maelstrom of Being, everything revealed suddenly as masks in flux, as dreams constructed and shared to paste a layer of sense and meaning. That fleeting moment, that blink of an eye in which one is awake, and sees -- and then the night comes mercifully down again, protective.

16. “It Will Come Back,” Hozier. This whole damn thing feels like a warning designed to seduce, a flash of fangs behind smiling lips. Oh, sure, He’s saying right out that I know better than to let Him in… but we both know it’s going to happen anyways, don’t we?

17. “Storyteller,” Alexander James Adams. “Please, Storyteller, pull a tale from your pocket/ Spin me a story from your coattails so bare/ My heart has turned cold, my dreams are too old,/ and I need to know magic’s still there.” This is the one I listen to when I’m world-weary and exhausted and the world is too much and my work is too much and I’m having trouble figuring out how the fuck to keep caring about any of it -- and that grizzled old warrior, the wanderer, the gifter of inspiration, comes through with a story, with enough reenchantment to keep going.

18. “Star Trek: Original Theme.” ...Okay, so no lyrics here, but y’all know the opening bit for ST:TOS? “To explore strange new worlds; to seek out new life and new civilizations; to boldly go where no man has gone before.” Tell me that that whole sentiment isn’t right up the Wanderer’s alley!

#newbie devotee challenge #playlist #devotional playlist #odin #odindeity #othinn #only difficult part of this one was paring down the ridiculous long playlists I already have #and I guess the writeup went long

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staboteur · 4 years

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CHARACTER INTERVIEW

▌real name: René Lambert

▌single or taken: It’s complicated, I mean, he’s multiship, but I guess... Yes?

▌abilities or powers: He’s just a normal human. I guess he’s really good at parkour?

▌eye colour: Grey-blue

▌hair colour: Originally black, but now streaky with grey

▌family members: Has a forgotten/estranged mother and father, that’s about it

▌pets: Please do not make him take care of anything less hardy than a cactus

▌something they don’t like: Dirt, mud, and dust

▌hobbies/activities: Reading, scrapbooking, collecting (virtually anything, but shiny objects in particular), “treasure hunting” (which amounts to stealing valuables from the vaults of rich people, basically)

▌ever hurt anyone before: He will stab as a warning

▌ever killed anyone before: Some people didn’t heed that warning

▌animal that represents them: Snakes and cats... He has their personality traits, but can also be represented by pretty much any largely solitary animal that can also be domesticated

▌worst habits: He’s stubborn and has only one brain cell which he usually uses for all the wrong reasons. He’s also very avoidant of conflict and responsibility.

▌role models: He doesn’t have one

▌sexual orientation: pansexual.

▌thoughts on marriage/kids: Truthfully, I think the only person he has ever expressed true interest in marrying is Alois. And he’s the only one that Rene would even consider having kids with (of the furry variety or otherwise), and even then, it’s only because he knows it would make Alois happy. He’s not exactly a family man. Can he eventually grow to love kids? Maybe, given the right environment. Will he do it on his own? Most likely not.

▌fears: The unknown, basically anything that can’t be directly changed or influenced by him.

▌style preferences: Formal wear, although for modern AUs he tends to lean more towards gothic fashions.

▌someone they love: Well since it says ‘someone’ and not ‘people’, I’ll just tag @heilung-vater, bc Rene’s absolutely completely in love with Alois (even if he isn’t very good at admitting it out loud).

▌approach to friendships: Friends?? What friends??? I think he’s had like two (2) friends his whole life

▌thoughts on pie: Is it sweet? Is it crumbly? Does it have fruits in it? If the answer is yes to all of those, then absolutely he loves pie. If not, then no. Never.

▌favourite drink: Depending on the crowd it changes but truthfully, he probably likes those fruity alcoholic beverages, although usually he’d opt for a bourbon or some other kind of gold-colored hard liquor.

▌favourite place to spend time at: wherever Alois happens to be His smoking room

▌swim in the lake or in the ocean: Neither one, he doesn’t trust what’s under the water... Plus, fish poop in there, so no way

▌their type: Alois Uh.... I mean there’s definitely been a pattern so far of him being into people who tend to be on the outgoing side, usually they end up being too nice for their own good (probably because Rene’s a tough person to love and he’s well aware of that, even if he often brags about being a very attractive person)... Muscles are a bonus but not mandatory, but Inherent Softness and kindness is definitely a trait he ends up going for a lot. For some reason, a commonality between every single person he’s ever been interested in has the letter ‘A’ in their name, which like isn’t exactly a rare thing bc a lot of names have ‘A’s in them, but it’s pretty funny that this trend was a thing. Initially, all his first ship partners from Way Back In 2015-16, every single one of them had names that began with A (”Amadeo”,”A” like yeah literally her codename is just “A”, and “Alois”). Now he’s... I’m trying to make him branch out, it’s just that writing is tough for me nowadays.

▌camping or indoors: Indoors. Outdoors has bugs, is cold, and the ground is too bumpy for his knobbly old man bones.

✨ TAGGED BY: @fraulinekritzkrieg

✨ TAGGING: steal it, i dare you

#{ headcanons | another day another back with a gaping stab wound }#{ ic | the dashing rogue }#//look i'm just out here pretending like im active when im really not #//i should just put this blog out of its misery except it's the main that all my other blogs are attached to so i cant just #//leave #//so... well ill figure out what to do with this eventually/#//also i suddenly remembered like #//i had a weird dream where i was in a discord server and like... for some reason instead of talking about my art blog #//people started talking about how this blog (staboteur) has a bunch of good art #//and i was #//really confused #//bc i rarely post art here and even when i do it's always shitty pencil doodes #doodles #//so it's like... i was confused #//obviously it was a dream so like.... yea #//i haven't been sleeping that well tbh i tend to remember more dreams when school starts bc i sleep worse

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metalgearkong · 5 years

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The Greatest Reveal Trailer of All Time - Hellblade II

Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice was one of the most unique games of the 8th generation of gaming. It also happens to be one of my favorites for a number of reasons. The story and setting were unique, and the graphics brought the characters and world to life to a startling degree for a double-A production. Senua was a Pict warrior who finds her village pillaged and raided by Vikings after a self imposed exile. Worst of all, she finds the body of her only friend and potential love interest, the only person who’s shown affection towards her, gruesomely executed. Senua, fighting her mental disabilities, embarks on a journey to Helheim to rescue his soul from the goddess Hel. The entire game can be seen as one great big fever dream, as Senua’s hallucinations run so deep, some or all of it could be entirely imagined. The voices and visions she has both enable her, and stand as obstacles in her journey.

The game may have featured combat that felt a generation old and repetitive puzzles, but Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice was overall a terrific game. It was made by a small team within Ninja Theory that evolved the more research on mental health and Norse mythology they did. The graphics, sound design, and character focus are outstanding. This is truly one of those games you have to play if you appreciate storytelling in video games. At the Game Awards December 13th, 2019, we surprisingly got a reveal trailer for a sequel called Senua’s Saga: Hellblade II (which can be seen here) slated for a Q4 2020 release. The first game is something I was truly unsure would ever get a sequel, as it didn’t necessarily take the world by storm financially.

In 2018 Microsoft acquired Ninja Theory as a subsidiary, which I think was a really smart move on Microsoft’s part. With a bigger budget backing them, Hellblade II has a lot of potential to be even larger and more epic. My only complaint is that Sony didn’t do it first, especially because they tend to be the big company out of the two who seem to value single-player games more. My problem is, I don’t want to buy a PS5 AND the next Xbox (because I've always been a Sony boy) just for Hellblade II. But I may have to borrow someone’s someday once the game comes out. The trailer features music by Heilung, a “enhanced history” folk band who recreate pre-Christian Old Norse music and poetry. It’s primal, catchy, and terrifying. It appears that Senua is out for revenge for what happened to her people and her village, and every ounce of rage she expresses in this trailer is incredibly justified (and brilliantly acted!)

Ninja Theory trailers tend to mainly establish a tone, and don’t necessarily represent their final produce (find Hellblade’s original trailer on YouTube). Don’t be surprised if Senua’s face paint ends up looking different, or if nothing in the Hellblade II trailer ends up even happening. A lot can change, but the purpose of the game appears to show Senua seizing hold of her disability and is thirsting for a slaughter. 2018′s God of War I feel like raised a lot of awareness of Old Norse mythology, and I think it will get Hellbalde II more attention solely on player’s recent experience with this kind of setting.

For me personally, this is the greatest reveal trailer of all time. Not only did I ever think Hellblade would get a sequel, but to have it look this good and have so much potential is a dream come true for me. Thank goodness Melina Juergens is back doing the voice and performance capture of Senua again because she is truly the heart and soul of this series. She seems to be more comfortable in character than ever before, and I think that will translate well to Senua’s next quest. I can’t wait for this game to come out, and it makes me want to consume as much Norse mythology as I can just to prepare for this game.

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countcracula · 4 years

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That’s a lot of you!!! Thanks!!!

Doll: describe yourself through a mixture of fictional characters:

The biologist from Annihilation (emphatically not the movie). Giles from Buffy. I too am self-contained and happy in my little occult niche

Lace: list 5 things you like about yourself

I’m good at detecting bullshit, I’m good at picking up on nuances and reading things against the grain. I have nice eyelashes and eyebrows. I’m good at drawing animals.

Hot chocolate: do you have a crush / partner / etc? describe them if so!

He’s got a lot of little freckles and he’s self-conscious about going grey but his beard is ginger and now it’s got all these little silver strands in it and im gay

He is both incredibly critical and fair-minded, and I enjoy his company more than I thought I ever would anyone’s

Fireplace: what has been your favorite age so far?

Honestly, for the past 6-7 years or so, my life has just gotten increasingly better, so I’d have to say 26 :) The glorification of youth is a scam etc. and I can’t wait till I peak when I’m 54, bald and covered in tattoos.

Teacup: what are 5 of your favorite songs at the moment?

You know what, my taste in music is bad and 3 of you asked me this question so now i get to inflict it on you. i like music without lyrics or where the lyrics are incomprehensible or in a language i don’t understand, so i can shut of the word-processing part of my brain and vibe. i miss being a metalhead, probably the only thing i miss about being 17.

Heilung - Elddansurin

Huun Huur Tu - Chiraa-Khoor

Just about the entire soundtrack of Hellblade, but this one in particular

Zeal and Ardor - Sacrilegium I

Just close your eyes and let this one wash over you

I... listen to a whole lot of synthwave and spotify won’t let me forget it

Danger - 6:24

Carpenter Brut - You’re Mine

In the Face of Evil - Magic Sword/Gost

Blanket: what is your sleep schedule like?

I am embarrassed to say! I’m doing a phd so I work from home and usually it’s 1-10 AM. I sleep a lot. So much! Not even including naps!

Cookie jar: if you could be doing anything right now, what would you do?

I started an rpg with friends recently and it’s a lot of fun! I’m playing a very small, skinny orc diplomat called Tadeusz who is meticulously polite and accommodating and eminently reasonable but is also deeply machiavellian. he is trying to Manage the party which consists of three other characters who are all proving to be exasperatingly Unmanageable in their own unique ways. It’s been one (1) session and already there are grudges! resentments! while Tadeusz is just standing by like (image) .

So either that, or working on [eldritch punk comic book project] with my boyfriend.

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stupidpianist · 6 years

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2 november 2018

05:30: Oh Christ almighty I’m awake but I want to be able to fall back sleep for a bit, I don’t have to leave for another hour, but now that I’m conscious, and I’m conscious of needing to take this GRE, my adrenaline is going haywire, and I’m sort of just flopping around in bed like a beached dolphin. Went to bed way too late to be responsible, and I’m totally not hungover or anything, so not hungover, there’s no sarcasm here, you must look: elsewhere, for the SARCASM. Okay okay do I get up?

06:02: Still in bed. Trying to “allocate system resources” so that I can leave bed. Feeling extreme sense of dread regarding my personal future, trying to remind myself, “it’s just the cortisol, it’ll even out, don’t worry, it’s just the cortisol.” Repeating that in my head. It’s working, a little, maybe? This has been happening most mornings for weeks now, just a really “pervasive sense of dread,” just worrying both over things I have no control over, and over things that I have control over but just haven’t done. Shouldn’t be dwelling on this, should just be focused on making incremental, concrete changes in how I’m living life, not. Not just, like, feeling sorry and afraid over myself.

06:10: Feeling slow resurgence of self confidence. Or, no, that’s not the right word, that’s the wrong terminology, it’s not like, I mean, I’m pretty self confident, never had “self confidence issues,” more like, just “overly anxious over things I shouldn’t be overly anxious over.” Debating, in my head, whether or not I should take public transit to the test centre… It’s all the way west on the island, and it’ll take like an hour and a half via subway and bus… I mean, no, here’s what I’ll do, I’ll splurge, I’ll take an Uber there, because the last thing I want right now is to just enter a terrible headspace by immediately heading to a subway station while it’s raining outside (DID I FORGET TO TELL YOU? yeah it’s REALLY RAINING outside, like HEAVILY) and then sitting on a train all wet and then switching to a bus and then riding a bus through the black of Montreal winter mornings and then sitting in a windowless room staring at a screen for four hours taking an exam.

Yeah, okay, deciding, definitively, to take Uber there. Will be relaxing, one of my favourite activities, barring when I’m feel nauseous, is just sitting in the backseat of a car, not shotgun, and listening to music and staring out the window. It’s really relaxing and puts me in a nice and contemplative mood. Same goes for subways, just, not, like, when it’s six in the morning, on little sleep, you know?

06:14: Brushed teeth, put on bunny sweater for “comfort and protection,” put on corduroy pants, put on boots, put on “puffy white jacket.” Going to walk across the street to the grocery to buy something caffeinated, and “test day snacks,” probably some granola bars, or something. Sensing myself growing increasingly determined, in a way I always get when I’m about to do something I know I’m not exactly ready for, feels like a dramatic scene in a movie right before the big climax before denouement. Putting on a “Let’s Get Down to Business” vibe.

06:20: Got Monster “lo-carb” energy drink, box of granola bars. Calling Uber with phone now, standing under the roof thing of my apartment building. It’s so black out it could be any time between 18h and 19h, I forgot just how little sunlight there is during the winter. Always thought I had, like, reverse seasonal affective disorder. Have I talked about this before on here? Well, if I have, get ready to hear about it again, you maniacs. Like, usually, during the summer, I’m feeling pretty down all the time, and during the winter my mood improves dramatically, but this could be circumstantial? Usually during the summer I’m away from people I want to be around, and feeling like I’m wasting a lot of time? Maybe that’s it, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the seasons? In any case, feel like the sun doesn’t really have much an effect on my emotional state, even though I do like using those therapy lights. Those are cool. Very fun. Heheh.

06:23: Chugged can of Monster and ate one bar. Somehow already got an Uber within three minutes of requesting a ride, seems egregious at this hour and at my location? Sitting in backseat. Quite comfy, it’s a Volkswagen of some sort, I forget the model, pretty sure it’s a Golf just from how it looks. Driver has the radio tuned to 96.9, French language “contemporary hits” radio station, is not engaging in conversation, thank god. I’m putting on album Lifa by band Heilung, one of my favourite albums ever, this Nordic experimental folk band, and, like, closing my eyes, and am doing, like, “meditation-related” things, like breathing in slowly and breathing out even slower. Feeling extremely comfy, really comfy, and sort of wishing this ride last longer than the estimated forty-five minutes, it’s really peaceful, just staring out of the window at everything passing, city lights, other cars, etc. etc., and the rain that’s dampening everything. Reminds me of Burial’s music, as always.

06:50: Nearing the test centre. I’m there early, only need to be there by 7h30, but I guess the earlier the safer?? Finding myself appreciating this car ride, feeling like I’m “sinking into the seat” and just “taking the world in,” appreciating all that I have in my life right now and the people in my life. Caffeine from Monster seems to have done minimal, really not feeling much of a “kick,” but I guess that makes sense? Hard to counteract that little sleep, combined with hangover. Thinking over the minimal preparations I’ve done for this exam, and, like, not kicking myself, because “what’s done is done,” but still feeling confident? Always have had a “knack” for standardized testing, it’s sort of fun, like, feels like a game, maneuvering around answers you can tell the test makers put in to “trip you up”?? Or, when you get “in the zone” and you get hyper focused on the questions, and you start “tearing them up,” just “ripping through them.” Getting to that point is fun, yeah, yeah.

07:06: Arrived. Test centre is in an office building in part of a strip mall, in an area that seems like it’s all a bunch of strip malls interconnected by roads and parking lots in a complex-esque thing. I’m doing a terrible job of describing it, and I didn’t take a photo, but I’m sure you know what I mean, just an area of a bunch of retail shops and fast food eateries and chain restaurants?? Feeling memories of taking SAT and ACT exams, noticing differences between going to a “testing centre” and going to a high school, like for the SAT/ACT.

07:15: Waiting on the floor of the testing centre. There’s one other guy here too, briefly spoke to him casually while taking a granola bar “to the face.” He seems really nervous, is sighing a lot and just generally looks uncomfortable. Feeling pretty excited and unanxious myself, reading from Disaster Artist while waiting for test centre to open. This office building is particularly depressing, like, almost cliche in its “office-ness”... I guess most office buildings are like this, it’s hard to inspire creativity or foster it when you have to build up office buildings everywhere, seems like they’d all have to, for practicality’s sake, follow more or less the exact same layout. Jesus now this is depressing me even more. Going to stop thinking about this.

07:30: Inside test room. I guess because it’s a computer exam, there is no set start time for everyone to begin simultaneously?? Wow I’m an idiot, that’s what I assumed by the registration saying the test would start at 08:30. No, the receptionist is like, “as soon as you fill out these forms you can get started.” Okay, okay, signing my name and putting my bag in a locker. Feels almost like I’m about to go through airport security, on the form it’s like “you have to empty all your pockets and lift your pants above your ankles and we’re gonna scan you for metal with a wand and you have to take off your glasses so we can inspect there’s no recording devices on them.” Sure sure sure, yeah, whatever you like is fine, I’m about to crush this test, let’s get this over with, yada yada yada

11:44: Jesus Christ it’s over, it’s all over, we did it, people, we did it!! WE DID IT!!! IT’S OVER!!!! Hey you want to hear the good news first, or the BETTER NEWS FIRST???? Here’s what I’m going to do, first I’m going to hit you with the GOOD news: your boy here scored well!! NO I’m not gonna share it publicly you silly goose but let me tell ya to your FACE--NICE. It was NICE. I’m proud of what I got, especially given the circumstances. You know the BETTER news??? BOUT TO RIDE THE BUS AND METRO HOME AND NAP THE HECK OUT OF A FEW HOURS. Gotta make up some of this SLEEP DEBT, gotta sleep really HARD.

It stopped raining too, I’m bout to hop on this shuttle bus, I’ll see you later. Jk, that’s a quotation from a standup bit by Hannibal Buress. Lookie here, guys, it’s a forty minute bus ride, and another forty minute metro ride, and then a ten minute walk, and then I strip my disgusting clothes off and I slam my head into the pillow and I close my eyes real good. Close em real nice, real nice closing of the eyes.

Really grateful I somehow did well, if I did poorly it would’ve been such a shot to both my overall mental state right now, and my confidence in my own abilities as like a thinking, reasoning being. I know the idiocy of standardized testing, but it feels good knowing that, despite unideal circumstances, I was still able to perform well on mathematical and verbal reasoning tasks.

Going to switch from Heilung to something more upbeat, maybe some Ghost, maybe some Clarence Clarity, for this ride back. Glad I can also “celebrate” via hanging out w/ A, if I did poorly on this exam I also would feel guilty or just generally be in a less-than-gregarious mood, glad that I’ll be able to “enjoy this fully.”

Feel like doing something crazy with the keyboard, here goes nothing, eal;kjfiweoiriskljfdkldfkdfdklfvc. jkdfgjklfgdkjlgkjgkjgkjgfkjgfkweiroqiqwwpeowqen qqmmciieieiieroeioqwqpoqoiwqpoiwqpwe

hahahahah

13:21: Back in “home sweet home,” thinking, “home, home sweet home, sweetie pie home.” It smells better than I remember?? Who did this, who came in here and sprayed stuff, what have you done? I do not, I don’t deserve this, these “good scents,” in my place of rest…

Going to take pants off and crawl right the heck under my sheets, maybe watch a YouTube video or two to “unwind” and then drift off to sandman village. Setting alarm for 16h30, that should give me enough time to still be productive before hangout?? Have been, throughout my life, a chronically bad napper, but this time feels different. Got all the checkmarks, did well on the exam, barely got any sleep, still hungover, caffeine wearing off even if I didn’t feel it in the first place. Seems like everything “in place” for a real good “sleep session.”

16:14: “Ouuauughhgh” is what it sounds like my head is going right now, or, like, “oouuauuUUUGAUAAUUUGHHHHH,” yeah, YEAH, that’s more like it. Man I slept SO GOOD, can’t remember ANY of my dreams, even though usually when I nap I have really, really vivid nightmares that I’m able to remember for a LONG TIME afterwards. Mouth has a funny taste in it, the way it often does after napping. Why does this only happen after napping, and not after sleeping a longer period of time?? Does keeping your mouth open longer do something to the quality of your breath?? I’m confused, but at least it’s not as bad as, like, when you drink milk right before napping, that’s, that’s the worst. Always hate having morning breath, I don’t mind when other people have it, but if I have it I can’t focus on anything until I brush it out, then I can, like, do something like return to sleep more, but once I’m up, if I realize that I have bad morning breath that day, nOPE, gotta take care of that crap.

Going to head to the practice rooms now and see how much I can get done before 20h. Unsure if I’m going to be updating past this point, seems “dubious.”

Renewed sense of self worth after taking that exam, I think. I know it’s so arbitrary, and probably dangerous to feel such a renewed sense of self after something as ridiculous as a standardized test, but, like, I don’t know… Felt such severe self doubt of late that it’s good to at least be reaffirmed that I can, like, answer objective questions correctly. That’s a start, right? Maybe it will carry over to the practice rooms??

#liveblog #blog #writing

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