#instruments of war are instruments too

[bibliophilicstranger]

I just discovered that Beethoven wrote a piece called Wellington's Victory for the Battle of Vitoria(this is part one, there's also a second part)! This particular recording uses actual weapons!

There's 188 cannon shots and 25 musket volleys, recorded so that you get one side of the conflict in each ear. They literally recorded the cannons and muskets at West Point and had an English cannon, a French cannon and a howitzer used by both sides.

[snekatiemainy]

Jasmine playing clarinet and Dev playing saxophone is so fucking important to me like yeah they WOULD play those instruments won't they. Of course they would.

look at them. look how much fun theyre having. i wish i had this much fun playing instruments at age 10

[rexcaliburechoes]

gale is ambition, so he has both crippling self doubt and debilitating pride in his work.

gale is ambition, so if a character tries to undermine him by one-upping him, he'll think he's not nothing left. more else can the orb destroy that it hasn't already?

gale is ambition, so if a character tries to undermine him by one-upping him, he'll vehemently deny that. he's the wizard of waterdeep. he was mystra's chosen. he was her lover. who could be any better than that?

gale is ambition. it's his greatest flaw and his greatest asset.

[tea-cat-arts]

I'm willing to at least hear out most of the "xyz plot point is heavily tied to abc cultural context" brands of posts but the "wwx isn't meant to be read as morally gray" and "the western fandom made up Sizhui being wangxian's son" brands of post make me feel like my cultural ignorance is being used to gaslight me

[invinciblerodent]

i decided to play just a tiny bit of my Inquisitor-as-Tav game I had lined up, and I just.... god, i love this old man

he looks so tired, and kindly, and he's a good head taller than everyone

Lae'zel is so damn tiny next to him, I think he needs to pat her head very sweetly (and then succeed a DC18 dex save to avoid getting his fingers bitten off) (it'll be worth it though, maybe it'll calm her down)

[phoenixkaptain]

I just think that if Anakin was a musician, he would be an oboist, because

1. First Chair oboe is the one literally everyone else in the orchestra tunes to (yes, including the strings) because the oboe can’t be tuned (the pitch of the sound created by the oboe reed (the decider of your fate) is affected by dampness of the reed itself, humidity, the humidity of the past fourteen years, and the will of the gods. If you’ve angered any gods recently, you should put the oboe down)

2. The oboe has an incredibly piercing sound. It can be heard even through the rest of the ochestra, it’s a very memorable sound

3. The oboe is the most temperamental instrument ever created. It’s far more angry than its cousin, the bassoon, and it’s more common than its other cousins, literally any other double reeded instrument but I’ll put oboe d’amore here as an example. The oboe could be working completely fine, only to be set down for five seconds and now all of your notes are flat except for your C, which is inexplicably sharp, oboe, why-

4. The oboe itself isn’t actually as bad as 3 suggests, because all of the attitude comes from the reed. Double reed instruments are as rare as they are difficult to play, and the reed of the oboe is the most temperamental reed ever put into the hands of mortals

5. I relate to Anakin and just feel like he should play an oboe because I play an oboe

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. Next week, I’ll either discuss the parallels between the comics and Obi-Wan Kenobi the series or I’ll talk about my obsession with Dick Grayson, we’ll see which one next time, same bat time, same bat channel blog

[the-senates-one-fear]

Anakin Skywalker plays guitar and would be in an indie alt band like Honey Revenge or smth like Lovejoy

[magaramach]

why is every single character playlist on spotify 90% taylor swift. i promise you none of those characters listen to taylor swift.

[quietquaking]

me watching andor: wow. this is a really good show. i really like how they portray the empire, how they showcase the effects of tyranny like that, and how none of the characters are perfect and are all a little morally grey. it’s realistic.

also me: SPACE FLUTES SPACE FLUTES SPACE FLUTES

[weirdlizard26]

I NEED A LITTLE HANDHELD SYNTH SO FUCKING BAD!!!!!!!! PAIN AND AGONY

[purplemoonabove]

Love Triangles ≠ Tug-Of-War

“Oh great. Another love triangle.”

“Here it comes: the love triangle.”

“Ooohhh, I see a love triangle going on~!”

That’s the idea that is the new norm right now in storytelling: the love triangle, a situation involving a tense-making drama between three people, most commonly a girl that falls in love with two guys separately, and both guys love her back.

(Thanks Twilight.)

But the thing is, there’s actually a catch on calling it a love triangle. I was so caught up on the tri-romance that I didn’t realize it myself until seeing a source, whether a comment or something, had me thinking.

Thinking enough to head back to elementary school, where we learned our shapes.

You know how a triangle works. I don’t need to bring out a diagram. You got your Point A, Point B and Point C. Connect the dots and bingo! You got your triangle:

But here’s the thing: the triangle points… aren’t the same as the points in a love triangle.

Here’s the thing:

- Point A connects to Point B,

- Point B connects to Point C;

- and, Point C connects to Point A.

Simple, right?

But here’s the question: Why isn’t the points ALL connected in a love triangle?

The answer: It can’t, because it’s not a triangle.

It never was.

Shocking, I know.

Now, before anyone mentions on defending the “love triangle being legit”, remember what I said before: a triangle makes up three points, and they all have to connect to make the shape. That doesn’t work the same way as the love triangles I’ve been noticing from certain stories. Twilight, especially for being the root of it all.

Bella likes Edward. Bella likes Jacob.

Edward likes Bella. Jacob likes Bella.

One girl likes both guys. Both guys like the same girl.

Bella is Point A.

Edward is Point B.

Jacob is Point C.

Point A likes Points B and C. Point B likes A, and so does Point C.

It’s not a triangle because Point B and C – Edward and Jacob – are not connected.

Neither one has feelings for the other – other than the feeling to rip at each other’s throats. (Being a vampire and werewolf, respectively, it’s no surprise.)

Because if they were, then the real triangle would be:

Jacob likes Bella.

Bella likes Edward.

But Edward likes Jacob…

I’m humored by that. Just imagine how the plot would go if it somehow went like that. There would be new teams: Team Bella and Edward, or Team Jacob and Bella, or Team Edward and Jacob.

The direction it would have gone if were done…

BUT!

It wasn’t so it’s not a triangle – it’s tug-of-war. Love war. Both men fighting/trying/convincing/doing everything they can in a situation to get the girl they both like to accept one of them.

There’s a rope with two ends and a centered mark. Who gets the mark is the direction of a pair the author was going for.

Bella was the center mark. And Edward and Jacob were at the ends.

Same goes for:

- The Hunger Games; Katniss at the middle, with Gale and Peeta at the ends.

- The Mortal Instruments; Clary in the middle, with Jace and Simon at the ends; and,

- Legendborn (Read it if you haven’t! So damn good!); Bree in the middle, with Nick and Sel at the ends.

The effort the guys pull is the direction of which of the guys is with the girl in the storyline.

It was never a triangle. For the guys such as mentioned above, it was tug-of-war.

And for the girl in the center—heck, it would have been an angle without a base! The A without the middle line. Just standing like an open ladder, the bottom ends for two people to stand on and fight who will be first to the top as they climb—and by her acceptance.

This can also work vise-versa – the girls doing tug-of-war, the guy as the singular point of an angle. The rope or angle can even break if the main love interest decides neither one! Or whoever the author would be using.

The point is, the next time you read a book and see a romance where Point A falls for Points B and C, and the feelings are returned, remember: it’s not a love triangle. It’s a return to your childhood, during recess or P.E., where the rope is held at both ends, the center mark is the target, and whoever team you are on is the support for one of the pullers.

Not a love triangle. Just a new game of Tug-Of-War.

Thanks for reading my WriTED Talk 😊

[aimfor-theheart]

i want to make a zhongli playlist for a fic…specifically war archon zhongli…….does anyone have music recs??

[anerdliveshere]

Uploaded to youtube. Feel free to take a look if youd like

https://youtu.be/VxrfH7aoK9s?si=jSEhvRXEs6Ev846i

Spoilers for a lot of stuff. I give a warning in video

[scribeofmorpheus]

Why Dragon Age Veilguard isn't a "Cathedral"

Concept art by Matt Rhodes

"To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals."

What is inherent with Veilguard that keeps bothering me is the fact that the world's choices truly didn't matter--and it doesn't simply bother me from a player perspective, it's not simply a grievance borne of frustration to what I (as a longtime fan) have lost. It's about the very culture of the arts under capitalism's new media habituation cycle [x][x].

Yes, I spent hours of my life playing and replaying each instalment of Dragon Age. Yes, I painstakingly curated a 'canon' world state by replaying what came before in preparation for Veilguard. Yes, I am even more unsatisfied with the end product--time hasn't helped, it's just widened the divide. But, and I can't stress this enough, these very personal gripes aren't what hit home the most. It's the inherent disregard of legacy. A legacy that the previous writers and game developers were building towards.

In the DAV artbook, "cathedral" is the word used to describe the process of making a game. Matt Rhodes' exact words are: "One artist can make a painting, but it takes a team to build a cathedral." Cathedrals took centuries to build. The architect who drafted the first blueprints would likely never see his work realised, he had to rely on those who came after him, like-minded and passionate, to see it through--for the culture, for the future, for legacy. Painters took on several apprentices for this reason too--giant frescoes were not completed by one man's hand, even if it is one man's name that immortalises them. Similarly, if you weave a narrative around choice, what good does it do to take it away at the final act if not to fall to caricature?

To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals.

Late-stage capitalism and profit-margin-obsessed game producers forcing developers to churn out meager content, to make a known brand into something it's not, to chase a fad or a popular trend... o, how reductive and cliche you've been forced to become Bioware. We have lost the cultural thought patterns relative to Cathedrals. We know only of barn-raised churches--done in a day but unlikely to last the turn of the seasons.

And don't even get me started on the music of Veilguard either. From Origins to World of Warcraft to Everquest to Baldur's Gate to Dungeon Siege, you can hear the intricate interconnected weave of sounds inspired by the Dungeons and Dragons-esque fantasy genre. You hear it in the repeated use of certain instruments, in the harmonic weeping notes of a bard-like singer or the foreboding echoes of drums as if of war. In tavern songs. But then, rather than hire someone who loves these worlds and this genre, who is a hungry artist looking to make a name, a legacy if you will, for themselves with a spectacular score, you hire any already sated composer, one well-into the encroaching years of career fatigue, whose notes repeat in countless projects, who feels less concise and more uninterested with each new project. One who has long since cemented his legacy. Someone in it for a paycheck and nothing else! And, to top it off, you let him compose something so minimalist? I am offended actually.

Cathedrals! We should have witnessed the final tile being placed on the Dragon Age cathedral. Instead, some architects walked up, tore down the interior and installed IKEA furniture and called it authentic before having to call the previous architects to come and fix the "load-bearing issues", forcing them to rush and add a coat of varnish and a few 'aged' details for authenticity.

[brainstirfry]

REACTION SPEED [Heroic: failure] - a single ravioli, damp from the water, still pleasantly steaming, lands with a defeated slap, on the linoleum floor. You see it happen, watch it flip through the air, like an Olympic bronze off the high-dive, or a suicidal veteran of war. you feel yourself shout a "No!", but it is too late. there, the ravioli, impossibly, lays limp. FORSAKEN RAVIOLI - Why, it thinks, why me? For all the time I was grown and processed then crafted and for all the time I have waited for the only purpose which I was made for. To be cast so suddenly, so errantly, into the realm of the beyond? Beyond savior. DRAMA - And here you stand, clad like a captain with your wooden spoon, watching as an honorable soldier, nay, a man, lies without your hand to aid him, on the kitchen floor.

VOLITION - you must act, now! first it must be picked up, then its fate can be decided. COMPOSURE - Its fate is the trash. AUTHORITY - Its fate is the trash. YOU - You pick up the ravioli, it is hot, nearly still boiling, gushing steam and hot pasta blood down your hand. It hurts, but standing here, there is nowhere else for it. PERCEPTION - It looks fine... LOGIC - Don't do this. SHIVERS [Heroic: Success] - Somewhere southeast of here, perhaps hundreds of miles, grain sprouts in a field, rich wheat, and butternut squash, only an acre over. The wind whistles through the fields, running like gleeful children through the tiny, green plants. Some will be eaten by birds, worms, or moles, but some will reach high into the sky, where they will be plucked and ground into pasta dough. You have seen the birthplace of this soldier. It is humble, a beautiful childhood, and so, so long ago. An entire pasta-lifetime, now. FORSAKEN RAVIOLI - I thought I had finally made it. And with my brethren... YOU - You look at the bowl, the rest of the ravioli, steaming in mournful, pyrrhic celebration. My company... EMPATHY - This ravioli could be you. You can't give up on it now. Not because of your own mistake. AUTHORITY - This is not what a dignified man would do. send him off and mourn, perhaps, but do not spend one moment more considering his limp, cooling corpse. DRAMA - Where has your heart gone, O Honorable One? Authority - … EMPATHY - the greatest service you could do for this little soldier, and for all those beyond you that forged him, is to eat him. What else is rightfully to be done? VISUAL CALCULUS - It was on the floor for less than 4.7 whole seconds. ENCYLOPEDIA - most forms of bacterium are able to jump, especially to wet materials, in about 1.2- PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - any residue on your kitchen floor may well be material which was once already in your stomach. CONCEPTUALIZATION - if you think about it, that means you've already kind of eaten the ravioli.

INLAND EMPIRE - From the Floor, Of the Floor, To the Floor. To be, or not to be, one with this eternal cycle? ENDURANCE - Anything the floor could not contain, you could digest. (with VOLITION) We are iron. HALF LIGHT - Bite into its soft, warm flesh. EMPATHY - Give it peace. ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Eat the floor-violi, pasta slut! YOU - weeping, bring the ravioli to your lips, and then, impossibly, with infinite mercy, love, bring it into you. It tastes fantastic. You would have never know it was on the floor at all. You can feel the hum of satisfaction, the glory of it in your lungs, swelling to fill you more than even a pasta-feast could. This is the mercy you wish your God could cast on you, when you fall. KIM KITSURAGI - "Harry,"

[fallingskiesandrisingseas]

But what was most baffling to all that met the Pevensies after they came back was that they were kind.

Really. Not pretending, not because they were insecure. True, empathic. Far too understanding for children their age. They all have music in them.

Peter’s hands feel too small for him, but he shakes hands all the same. Gentle pressure. There is nobility behind those eyes. Eyes that always border on the supernatural sort of blue, especially in the dark.

He plays the guitar, gently coaxing otherworldly sounds out of an instrument that did not know it could be played like that. He helps his siblings with their homework, is taller much faster than his peers. Seems to take up more space, even though no one understands how a teenage boy manages that.

He doesn’t like doing nothing, ever. He instructs his classmates in grammar, gives away figures he cuts from wood with a knife that seems too sharp for a boy that small. He never hurts himself, though.

As the years pass, Peter grows strong. But he is gentle. He does not seem to be brash, even when many of his friends are. Peter keeps his emotions in check. Noble. Not undangerous, but not belligerent. Peter only ends fights, and only with people that deserve it.

He offers advice, a pat on the back. Teachers wanna dislike him, some do not like the look behind those eyes. Most find they cannot. Peter is popular with both adults and children, speaks sense and laughs often.

Peter is kind. Pious, devout. His faith is unmovable like rock. Did the kids meet God on the estate of their uncle?

Edmund plays the violin. A sad Edmund is a rare sight, but when he plays sad he can keep his whole floor awake. Somehow, Peter always finds h him quickly, effortlessly attuned to his brother’s moods. They play chess, then. Their chess master must have been a champion, Ed beats people with ease. He’s usually not smug about it.

Ed speaks politics and war in earnest, accepts critique graciously, is elegant in a way Peter never manages. Peter speaks frankly, but Edmund can wrap words up real nice. He doesn’t mince words, but his classmates grow into liking the sound of his voice. They appreciate that Edmund does not lie, even when speaking tactfully. Edmund can dial the temperature in a room, change it to suit himself.

He, too, laughs often, but Edmund is known to smirk. He likes being right and he often is. He’ll entertain anyone with a good story, always seems to have the right information to help you out. Remedies to illness, connections, job openings, how to sneak out of PE.

He’s a spider in a web. A bit reserved for a 11 year old, and oddly well-connected. A real ghost when he wants to be, but he never scares people with it.

Aslan would not approve of that. He believes in God as well, but much more intellectually. He’s got the intelligence to back it up and wit to match. A scholarly belief, but not lacking conviction.

Teachers like his enthousiasm, remember a moody nagging child when he left and see a secure young man come back.

Edmund will stand up for what is right. He gets into some trouble like that, but his verbal agility saves him always. Edmund has strong principles and will not bend them for anyone. No matter the trouble he gets in.

The bond with his brother is unbreakable. They even walk the same, chest out, left hand on their belt. They seem most at ease when fencing.

Susan was always warm and tenderhearted, but when she comes back there is a difference.

She seems to have gained authority. It’s real strange watching a 13-year old use her beauty like a grown woman, but Susan has learned to wield it, to stun people so she can creep under their skin. People LISTEN to her now.

Her wit is like a knife, but she avoids cutting deep. Susan is reasonable, and strong, and principled. The little drama others get involved in does not bother her, and she seems immune to petty insults. She has killed before, with her hands.

She will do it with kindness now. She is not very approachable ( that would be Lucy ), but she is kind. She used to mother over her brothers and sisters, but now that they have raised each other in a court full of magic she has gotten more relaxed. They listen to her on important issues, trust in her judgement. Her brothers does not deem himself more important, she is both well-spoken and well-respected by her siblings. Equal. It baffles the old men that teach her. Irritates them, too.

There is an air of mystery around her. Half a look is enough to get what she wants, Susan’s friends laud her security in herself, her Mona Lisa smile. She seems to temper moods easily, makes people feel at ease.

She most of everyone exudes royalty. It’s the grace. Susan plays the harp, her long fingers dancing across the strings like she’s had a lifetime of practice. She’s elegant, never caught off guard. Jamais faux pas.

She does not get angry. She knows who she will be. She is anxious to become an adult, yes, but she only wishes to look how she feels. Not to look differently. Yet the wish to be taken seriously, to have someone see you as an adult, it makes her surprisingly similar to her peers.

Her friends have not been old yet, is all. But Susan is calm and collected. People see her as someone you can tell a secret to. She never hurts someone, is usually a neutral party, speaks sense to adult and kids alike. She is not ignorant, however, will use every trick in the book to keep the peace. She knows when to go nuclear. Vis pacem para bellum.

Lucy is a sun in human form. She has a joie de vivre that is unmatched, is gay and golden-haired and never in a bad mood.

Lucy is kind by default, does not turn it off, does not turn it down. She’s witty and funny and quick on her feet. She has been grown before, yes, but enjoys being young for a few years more. She dances, sings old tunes. Her voice is her favorite instrument, you can usually hear Lucy coming.

Whistling a tune in the halls is known to improve the moods of everyone who hears it immensely. Young girls need to figure out who they are, but Lucy knows, knows what she’ll be and who she likes and what kind of people she wants to be around. She is not pretending, never moody. She can get sad, of course, but her older brothers and sisters are always nearby when that happens.

Lucy is genuine and fierce and convinced, immovable at times. Admired for her drive, but respected for her empathy. She speaks to everyone, often distributes flowers. There’s no naivite in her at all, she simply wishes to be like this so that the world may imitate her. She likes to see people prosper, is the first with praise.

She will go far, is the consensus. There’s steel beneath the soft exterior, Lucy has fire below the flowers. She’s well-liked and well-loved. She has love in spades, it seems, animals and stragglers and misfits and outcasts. She’s popular, her room is a good place to get a cup of tea and someone who will listen to you for some time. After a while she no longer bothers with the door.

That a heart that size fits in a girl that small is a mystery to many. Lucy does not think it is a mystery at all. It is the heart of a lion.

Her faith is as vocal as the rest of her, she sees it confirmed in all that is beautiful, all that is kind. She never tries to convert anyone but there are several people who have told her that version of God is someone they would like to know.

The Pevensies often see each other at parties, where they like to stand together. Edmund knows about everyone, everyone knows Peter, everyone likes Susan, but it is Lucy who knows everyone.

They are kind, but not weak. Peter gets his knuckles bloody sometimes, Edmund does not abide by the rules of unjust teachers. Susan and Lucy solve their problems differently but no less effective. Kindness is their usual way of operating, but they are still kings and queens. They will not allow cruelty, will not let bullies go unpunished.

They are sure of what they are and sure of what comes after death and this makes them kind. Kind , not harmless. Kind, not spineless. Kind, not ignorant. Kind, not naive.

Kind despite. Maybe kind because. The kings and queens of Narnia are proud of what they are, honour the teachings of their lion friend. Kind.

When the crash happens and three siblings die, everyone they know mourns deeply. Without them, the world is less kind.