#juno ashworth

[pupsmailbox]

MOTH︰BUTTERFLY ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　acantha.　adela.　adley.　aetheria.　aiden.　ainsley.　alis.　allison.　amos.　angle.　ankova.　antler.　apollo.　apple.　arches.　arden.　argent.　ari.　aruna.　ashworth.　aspen.　asteria.　astralyn.　atlas.　barberry.　bay.　bee.　belina.　bellamy.　belle.　blair.　blake.　blossom.　bright.　brighton.　bryn.　butter.　butterfleigh.　butterfly.　cadi.　cai.　calesia.　cali.　canary.　carson.　cayana.　chai.　cherry.　chouko.　cinnabar.　cistus.　clancy.　clifden.　cloud.　clover.　cosmia.　crimson.　daisy.　dakota.　december.　dewick.　dorian.　dot.　dusk.　dust.　eclipse.　eilira.　eilliot.　ellison.　elnora.　emerald.　ermina.　ermine.　esmerelda.　esther.　evelyn.　evern.　falena.　fern.　finley.　fisher.　flora.　fly.　flynn.　forest.　fox.　foxglove.　galatea.　galium.　garnet.　ghost.　ginny.　greta.　grey.　haden.　haven.　hawk.　haworth.　hayden.　heath.　herald.　hesperia.　holli.　hollis.　isabella.　ismeria.　isola.　jael.　jayden.　jersey.　july.　june.　juniper.　juno.　kahli.　kai.　karran.　karson.　kentish.　kimko.　kit.　kori.　lace.　lackey.　langmaid.　lepida.　light.　luca.　lucy.　luna.　lunar.　malam.　maple.　march.　mariposa.　marlow.　marrow.　mars.　may.　micah.　mirza.　mocha.　molie.　monroe.　moth.　mothra.　mothy.　nettle.　november.　oak.　ocaria.　oleander.　opal.　palmyra.　paru.　parvaneh.　peach.　pearl.　pepper.　pine.　pinion.　plume.　poppy.　psyche.　quinn.　reed.　reid.　rekoa.　remi.　riband.　ricki.　robin.　rose.　rosy.　rowan.　ruby.　rufous.　sable.　saffron.　saga.　saige.　scarlet.　scotch.　sibylla.　silver.　skyler.　sula.　swift.　tara.　tate.　tatum.　tawny.　tera.　thora.　tiger.　una.　vanessa.　violet.　virginia.　weaver.　winter.　wren.　yara.　zephyr.　zephyra.　zion.　zoumi.

PRONOUNS ⌇　admir/admiral.　ant/antenna.　anten/antenna.　antler/antler.　apple/apple.　blood/blood.　blue/blue.　bu/butterfly.　bug/bug.　butter/butterfly.　carpet/carpet.　chalk/chalk.　cherry/cherrie.　chrysalis/chrysali.　clear/clearwing.　cloud/cloud.　cocoo/cocoon.　cocoon/cocoon.　dagger/dagger.　dark/dark.　dew/dew.　dot/dot.　dusk/dusk.　dust/dust.　erm/ermine.　eye/eye.　flame/flame.　flap/flap.　flow/flower.　flu/fluttflutter.　fluff/fluff.　fluff/luff.　flutter/flutter.　fly/fly.　forest/forest.　fri/fritillary.　frit/fritillery.　goat/goat.　gold/gold.　hair/hairstreak.　hawk/hawk.　hawk/hawkmoth.　heart/heart.　hide/hide.　hook/hook.　in/insect.　insect/insect.　lace/lace.　lamp/lamp.　leaf/leaf.　lepidoptera/lepidoptera.　light/light.　lu/luna.　luna/luna.　lunar/lunar.　maple/maple.　mo/monarch.　mo/moth.　mocha/mocha.　moon/moon.　mor/morpho.　moth/moth.　nec/nectar.　night/night.　night/night.　nocturnal/nocturnal.　noct/nocturnal.　oak/oak.　plume/plume.　reed/reed.　riph/ripheu.　rose/rose.　sallow/sallow.　shark/shark.　sil/silk.　silk/silk.　small/small.　snout/snout.　squeak/squeak.　squeak/squeaker.　stripe/stripe.　sul/sulphur.　swa/swallow.　swa/tail.　swall/swallowtail.　swift/swift.　tiny/tiny.　tuss/tussock.　wax/waxe.　wing/wing.　☁️ . ⭐️ . 🌕 . 💡 . 🦋 .

[moochilatv]

Salió ReWired, lo nuevo de Dubmatix

Uno de los productores más prolíficos del dub y reggae está de regreso

Salió Rewired, el nuevo álbum de @dubmatix

"El concepto del título de ReWired se trata no solo de volver a cablear mi estudio para cada álbum, usar diferentes equipos, reorganizar y siempre tener que volver a cablear todo a medida que terminas con cables que se conectan a nada colgando en todas partes. También se trata de volver a cablear la música: cambiar cosas, agregar nuevos elementos y crear nuevos sonidos", afirmó .

Cuenta con feats de Lone Ranger, Sr Wilson, Lasai, Duane Stephenson, Ras Kayleb, Jman, Hempolics, Joe Publik, Kazam Davis and Exile Di Brave, Rootwords y Barry Ashworth.

El compositor, productor, multiinstrumentista y siete veces ganador y nominado al Premio JUNO canadiense Jesse E. King alias #Dubmatix , es oriundo de Toronto, pero se ha labrado un gran número de seguidores en el escenario internacional.

Es una máquina de grabación, desde su lanzamiento debut Champion Sound Clash en 2004, Dubmatix, nacido en Toronto, ha producido y grabado más de 500 lanzamientos (álbumes, EP, dubs, remixes)

Con más de 20 años de trayectoria Dubmatix ha colaborado con infinidad de artistas. Se destacan en su discografía los discos "The French Sessions" (2015)y "Overdubbed" (2018) junto a los legendarios Sly & Robbie.

Disponible en todas las plataformas. Link @bandcamp https://echobeachlifefidelity.bandcamp.com/album/dubmatix-rewired

[junxashwxrth]

//sow the seed //grant the powers that be //feel that great need

6. 

“Clear your mind, you need to calm down sweetheart,” Juno shook as fingers gently pushed curls from her red face, “just settle yourself.”

“He was hitting her,” her voice was high and reedy, childish in the way that all six-year-olds were, “he shouldn’t be hitting her. We’ve gotta stop her Mama!” her voice pitched as she watched the path the man had dragged the teenager.

“Honey,” Katherine kneeled down, she was not a beautiful woman, she was handsome, with a high arched nose and a deep earthen eyes with these odd gold flakes in them, “go home, go find your father he ought to be back from the castle by now,” the sun was dipping low over the horizon, Juno knew that there were simply a quick walk from the sea, where she often went to watch the sun rise and set when she could get up early enough and drag her father out before arms training. 

“But Mama--”

“Go home Juno, and practice your light spells sweetheart, I have to do something really quick,” so Juno turned and set off down the path, before hiding behind a tree. She peeked and watched her mother gather her loose brown and blue skirts, revealing her wand that was strapped often to her calf. It was a handsome silvery color, with the heartstring of a chimera in it, Juno had held it once. Before she turned, and within a blink of an eye flash-stepped through the thicket, small pops of magic following the trail the man led the girl down. With his bloody fist and her oddly twisted arm.

Juno was going to be exactly like her Mama one day.

8.

“Focus Juno.”

“I’m trying!”

“Not hard enough, come on--”

Juno let out a long huff, and smashed her hand on the table, “I can’t.”

Her mother clapped her hands on her shoulder, “You are Juno Ashworth, and you can do anything you set your mind to understand?” Juno jutted her chin out, “You are boundless Juno, now, do it.”

Juno blinked and pointed her fingers at the candle, “Ignis.” it lit, and Juno stared.

“Good girl.”

10.

“You can’t even lift a sword, how do you expect to beat me,” her brother, younger by less than a year, jeered from where he sat on the fenceline, Juno’s face was dirty as she once more tried to lift the heavy tourney sword that her brother used. Already Tiber was growing taller than her, strapping and could ride a horse with ease. Like herself, he had more than a touch of magic, but chose not to study it beyond, instead of following their father towards knighthood. “Don’t answer with ‘magic’ smartass.”

He was pushed off the fence with a bright gust of wind, falling into the dirt with an off while Juno rushed and stood over him, an elfin grin on her face. “Magic beat you just now didn’t it,” she laughed as he jumped to try and grab her. “C’mon Juno you know you won’t be as good as me, I’m gonna be a knight and you’ll be a witch, witches aren’t as good as knights.” he chased her around the tree, she hopped the sword she left on the ground, sliding in the dust she barely missed his hands.

Grabbing the fence she hauled herself up, crowing loudly, “Mama is just as good as Papa!”

“Yeah, cause Mama is special,” he leaned forward and grabbed sides, pushing her over the fence where she laid, wheezing on the ground, “and you’re not.”

Tiber’s laugh was jarring as she hissed before pushing him away with a loud bang and he half-flipped across the training yard before hitting the ground with a parting screech. She was so angry, and he was so mean. But then as he crumpled on the dirt, his arm, it was bent, Juno gasped as blood came, he was yowling. Her little brother was screaming as her mother rushed from stables, she had been tending to her stallion when she caught sight of Juno, hands spread out and her son bleeding his bone exiting his arm. 

“Juno!” She flinched as her Mother settled next to Tiber who was crying, and holding onto his bone, struck from his arm. Her mother’s eyes were blown with gold, like when she got angry with Father, and when she got angry with the two of them. “What did you do.” her voice rang between them.

Juno approached, quickly, while she watched as her Mother ran her hands down Tiber’s arm, his bone returning, almost seamlessly leaving an open wound that she quickly wrapped, “Go to the House,” he was still covered in blood, glaring at Juno, “and you,” the smack on her face was quick, and Juno lifted her hand to her cheek, already a cooling charm playing on her fingers, “you are stronger than your brother, why in the world would you find him?” 

“I didn’t mean to!” 

“You are 10!” she flinched at the screech in her voice, “you were supposed to get a wand soon, but I see that was foolish, go to your room, no magic for the rest of the day and apologize to your brother.” Katherine stalked away, the wind catching her heels as she picked up the tourney sword and cleaned the ground of blood.

10.30

“I’m getting a wand!”

“Yes.”

“What sorta wand?”

“Whatever the wandmaker gives you that fits well.”

“How long will that take?”

“Will you stop asking silly questions?”They rode in silence, Juno’s mare whinnied until they reached the cottage by the lake, where an older woman sat, smoking from a long pipe and a sparkle in her eyes that Juno noted were cloudly like before a storm. 

“Good morrow Mistress Kane,” Katherine hopped off her own stallion and smiled as she greeted the elderly wandmaker, “I’m here for a new wand for--”

“Your daughter, she is pretty, dark hair and quite stunning blue eyes much like your Robert, she has quite the temper don’t you girl?” the woman stood, she was tall, much taller than the two Ashworth witches, her hair must’ve been amazing in her youth for it was coiled in a tight long braid, a small creature coiled around her ankles, it looked like a weasel but not. 

“I ... how did you know.” the woman approached her and tapped her cheek.

“I can See, I always know. I can See you quite clearly girl,” the woman smiled, it was toothy and bright, and Juno didn’t quite feel at ease. “You have quite the potential, good instinct, but those emotions need to be reigned in. But a good heart.”

“Mother...?”“Listen to the wandmaker my girl, she See’s everything,” her smile was fond and Juno looked at the woman who gripped her wrist and pulled her around the small cottage towards the back, there was a trough and a few low seating benches, an open fire. “Sit, I’ll be back.” Juno sat while her Mother wandered towards the lake, hands brushing over the reeds and her hands were already glowing green, some plant magic no doubt. Her mother was skillful, a powerful witch with a knack for the difficult, though she was best known for her warding spells and battle magic, coincidentally the battlefield was where she found her husband when he was a squire and she a young witch, Juno had never seen anyone like her. Who understood magic in a way no-one else did. She wanted that, that instinctual understanding of magic, though she studied so very often.

“Here,” a wood was pushed into her palm, it was a handsome red and she blinked before dropping it to the ground, it was burning her, “not that then...” the elderly blind woman held out another wand, gnarled wood with no discernable handle, just as it came to her fingertips the woman jerked it back, “no that won’t do at all.” 

Another, it stung, a fifth that felt warm, a sixth that left a trail of pretty purple and blue sparkles. The sevenths and eighth felt much better. It kept going until she had reached fifteen.

“Mistress Kane,” the woman hummed as she ran her fingers through the metal box where the wands were held, “do you think I’ll be a better witch than my Mom?” 

“No.” The next wand was shoved in her palm, it warmed against her fingers before it began to spit spark wildly, it was a handsome dark near black wood. The old woman didn’t go to grab it, as Juno gripped it, with a line of determination on her mouth before she let out a long steady breath. 

The wand stopped spitting and she turned, “Defodio!” the spell was cast like lightning, dark purple and struck the ground, creating a few foot crack. She turned to the old woman, “You’re wrong.” Juno watched as her Mom rushed towards her, a smile on her face. “I’ll be sure to make her proud.”

“Are you sure?”

11.

“Look at her go,” her mother smiled widely as Juno began a set of fancy footwork, setting off hexes and curses in time with the arrows her brother was firing at her, within a blink of an eye two of the arrows were turned into bright yellow birds. “Isn’t she spectacular?”

The wizard laughed, nodding, “She is very much your daughter Kat, an excellent witch.”

“Her footing when it comes to dueling, and her transfiguration work is fantastic, already so amazing.”

“You must be proud.”Katherine watched as her daughter turned her small flock of birds on her brother who struggled to shoot them down before running from the swooping transfiguration feathered beings. Juno was laughing, tossing her raucous curls and fingering her wand. 

“You have no idea.”

11.5

“Is that a dog?” Juno blinked at her brother who was poking at the puppy, it had been a rather large sandy stone.

“Yes.”

“How?” he poked it and it barked, but it sounded wrong and he jumped back, hand going to his sword.

“Found some spells in Mother’s study, thought I’d try them out.” the study where she wasn’t allowed, with books she wasn’t allowed to see.

“Well, I guess even you do something right every once in a while,” Tiber grinned, before poking the not-quite-right-dog, “but it’s still not that good you know.”

12.

Juno began to sweat, she was shaking, as her mother began to raise up barrier after barrier, the village was under attack-- again. Her brother was riding with the scouts. She raised her wand, her fingers were shaking, she was sweating, why couldn’t she just raise a barrier. She’d done it before, she did it often.

“Juno?” her mother looked at her, and her daughter began to feel the world closing around her, “Snap out of it.” everything was too close, this hall was too small, she shivered lightly. “Juno!”

The young witch looked at her Mother who pursed her lips. “Go inside, hide.”

“What no I can do--”

“Go inside. You aren’t ready for this. Obviously I don’t know why I brought you out here.”

12.

“Juno!” Her brother held her arm, pulling her back as she went to take a swing, it was another party and another noble prat of a squire was making rude gestures.

“Will you stop trying to--”

“Didn’t you hear him?”

“Yes!”

“Then why can’t you let me take a swing at him? I can fight him, with magic, his little sword won’t stand against my spellwork.”

“I’ve seen you practice, half the time it blows up in your face.” Tiber twisted her wirst and pulled her away, “You’re only going to do a shit job anyway, just stop.” 

Juno wrenched her arm away, glaring, before stalking back over wand raised, as spark came from it, and she found herself in the dust, while Tiber stared at her with a snarl disspaointed look in his face before he stepped up to fight the squire.

“Never,” Juno stood back up before flinging herself back into the fight. 

13.

Her hand cracked across the elder girl’s cheek, with a snarl before someone grabbed her holding her back. She kicked out her feet before catching the girl again in the stomach, the girl before to cry, “Juno no!”

“Get the fuck off me!” she threw herself from her best-friends arm, he looked on hopelessly as she leapt upon the elder girl, the one who whispered about her brother and his ugly scar. 

14.

Katherine found her, curled up, books surronded her, wand held loosley in her grasp and looking exhausted. There were remnants of magic in the air, several items half turned and little scortch marks left everywhere. She sighed, her daugher was struggling much more recently with her magic, it often happened with young girls as they moved into womanhood. Juno was an excellent witch, she would be fine.

It look only a spell to deposit her daughter into bed, who curled around her pillow, still soundly asleep. She began to gather the books before finding one, and she frowned. Full body transfiguration was dangerous, and difficult. Why would Juno be looking into something that could harm her so deeply? She set it aside and tucked another blanket around her shoulders and setting the book on the top shelf.

Her daughter wasn’t ready for that sort of magic.Why was she looking at it?

Juno slept on even as Katherine frowned, this type of magic was difficult. Too hard for her hectic daughter, who couldn’t seem to reign in her magic properly. 

16.

“It’s a simple spell Juno,” there was an air of exhasperation, “You’ve known this spell, now do it.”

Juno let out a long shaky breath, “Salvio Hexia,” there was a light shimmer as a barrier fell. Her mother looked at her with narrowed eyes before holding up her own wand, “Bombarda!” 

“Protego!” the sheild smashed against the small explosian, while Katherine shook her head. Juno yelped, throwing up her arms as the blast caught her off her feet, sending her sprawling back onto the ground. She slammed her fist on the ground in frustration but refused to get up, even as her she could see her mothing tensing and flexing her fingers and neck to ready for another attack that never came.

“Get up.”Juno let out a long sigh, leaning up on her elbows, her mother was hovering above her, a knot in her brow in concern. Finally, she sighed, shoulders creaking forward, “Go home,” she hovered above her daughter, currently soaking up wet leaves from her now aching arse,“you aren’t focusing, obviously, go home and clear your head.”Her mother disappeared witch a crack like lightning, and Juno stood, flinging out her wand and setting a few bushes on fire. 

Why couldn’t she just do it. She was powerful, she could change stones to dogs and back, cast fire spells and hexes, but any moment that her Mother asked her to do something, when she came under fire, when things got hard. Juno would freeze, her magic would fail, and her brother would laugh and there would be such disappointment in her eyes. Those dark eyes with the gold flecks would stare at her feeble attempts and there would be this wilted line in her shoulders and Juno knew, she knew she failed again. 

Over and over again. 

She hated herself for causing that. 

Juno sat up in the leaves, “Bombarda,” the explosion rocked the little area they called a training ground, and she sighed.

Only when no-one was watching.

Juno wanted everyone watching.

17.

Juno passed between the arms of two men, flitting between them, her skirt was too short and the mead was warm and flowing between her lips and skirting across her tongue. The music came to a stop as she twirled into a knight’s arms, he was strong, strapping with a gap between his teeth so she didn’t look at his mouth. They danced together, her skirts flared out, her wand was strapped to her thigh, and the young knight grinned as he pulled her up and into a lift.As he set her down she flitted away, into a squires arm.

Then again spinning into a noble.

Into a far too tall warrior with a scar on his cheek.

Mead was pressed into her palm, and she laughed as she greedily drunk it down. She spun again, falling against the cold wall with a hapless giggle as several girls crowded around her, giddy and drunk on the late party. This castle was half a hundred leagues away her home, and she drank down more wine, it spilled across her cheek and onto the white lace of her flowing dress.

“Oh Miss, your dress,” the wine soaked into the white lace, the man was two, but one, perhaps twins as she dabbed at the lace, “it’s ruined is it not.”

“No, it’s not,” she lifted her fingers and whispered, “Scourgify,” it swept away, leaving the lace pristine as he stared.She laughed and surged forward to capture his lips, “Dance with me Ser.”

“Witch,” his voice dropped into a hiss, her hands on her shoulders, pushing her down, “you’re a witch.”

She laughed, and giggled and her attendants or friends she could never tell, laughed and giggled. “Dance with me Ser,” Juno ran her fingers across his weak jawline, he’d do, he wasn’t the finest, but he’d do, “you know you want to. Come on, what’s a little magic.”

18.

Juno stared as the barrier fell, she had been doing well again. Her Mother took her again on a trip to a local castle, now under siege, and she watched as the barrier fell again and the knights smashed towards the low wooden walls. She could hear her Mother shrieking behind her, and her brother was roaring from near the walls, his sword gleaming as he ran a charge towards the knights who broke the gates.

“No!” Juno threw open her arms, and stood on the wall, and twisted her wand, “No!”

Juno watched as her brother got closer and closer, no. She could see it in her mind’s eyes, her brother dying and Juno failing. Not today. 

“Fianto Duri! Protego Maxima!” the knights from their side found their steeds haulting at the spark of magic, while the opposing army passed through her curse, her barrier, this spell.

The first knights fell apart, their skin dissolving as they screamed and the opposing army tried to turn around. They couldn’t.

They rammed into her first curse and fell apart, the howls rang through the air.

Juno breathed in and turned, her Mother was staring at her, wand at the ready, leaning over the wall.

Juno breathed in and her brother was looking up at her.

Juno breathed in-- power. 

Oh she liked the taste of that. Success. Glory. She really loved that taste.

She needed more. She looked to her Mother who stared back, and there was a whisper. 

“More.” her mind whispered, she needed to prove that she could do this, she looked at her Mother. She was going to be better. 

[wizardkniight]

His lip twitched as he grinned, the scene in front of him the most charming and amusing thing he had seen in days. Ever since the ‘incident’ with Leila he had been feeling so depressed, but this scene had been great enough to distract him from his melancholy. A pretty girl with the bluest eyes he had ever seen trying to save a small kitten. 

He should have offered to help her before, he was a lot taller than her, but he was enjoying seeing her try to reach the kitten, her legs were long, but not long enough it seemed. Just as he was approaching her to offer her help, Juno lost her balance, falling from the chair she had been standing on. Luckily, he was right there to grab her, one arm clutching her waist and the other one her thighs. “You okay?” he asked, still holding her.

[childrenofhypnos]

Chapter 11: The Dream

Emery fell into the Dream.

It was a fall and it wasn’t. There was no forest on the other side of the gateway, but when the light returned, Emery was collapsing back-first onto a pile of…foam? Cushions? She couldn’t see what she’d fallen onto, but it didn’t hurt. She had not come from anywhere. There was no gateway. There were no walls or ceiling or sky. For a moment, after she pushed herself off the surface of her soft landing, there was no ground.

There was nothingness around her in the way that there could be nothingness in a dream: she couldn’t focus on her surroundings. There was something in her brain telling her they weren’t important. She didn’t need to make sense of them.

She grasped at the thought. Dream logic. They did sections of dream logic every year in dreamforming class, and by their final year of school, they would have an entire class of just that. How the dream functioned while a dreamhunter was physically inside it, what it did to their bodies and minds, and the strange and unusual things it did to protect itself. The first rule of dream logic was the will of the Dream itself: the Dream wanted everyone inside to forget where they were, to unravel their memories and their lives piece by piece until they couldn’t leave. A dreamer could exit the Dream by waking up, but a physical body from the waking world, once caught, would rot away there forever.

The Dream wants you to forget.

Emery dropped to her knees and threw her arms over her head. The Dream wanted her to forget, so she had to remember. She had to remember anything and everything she could about the waking world.

Grandpa Al had a special teacup that he only used in his office. It sat beside the nameplate on his desk. Powder blue with cobalt designs and a gold rim. Grandma Juno had given it to him years ago, after they got married and before she was lost in the Dream.

The Dream wants you to forget.

Grandma Juno had forgotten and had gotten lost, and had probably died here. Emery growled and thought harder. Edgar. The sleeves of Edgar’s favorite sweater hung well past his hands. It was a hand-me-down from their father, and Edgar insisted on wearing it every time he watched A Fistful of Dollars.

Why, though?

Why?

Because their father was the one who had shown him that movie for the first time.

The Dream’s oppressive pushing against Emery’s mind let up, but she needed more to keep it away.

Her father could stand in a room full of people and still hide behind his glasses. He was Grandpa Al, but younger and taller and tealess. When she was little, when he still smoked, he gave her piggyback rides, and she felt like she was on top of the world.

Her mother could hide in an empty maze and everyone within five miles would still know she was there. They called her “the Siberian.” She came from…from…Emery cursed. She always forgot the name of it because she was stupid and had never cared enough about where her parents had come from. Khakassia! Her mother was from Khakassia. They’d first come to the Sleeping City from Moscow when Emery was eight, and her mother had let Emery hide behind the protective wall of her legs until Emery had worked up the courage to venture out.

The pressure drained away.

She needed more. Something recent.

Lewis brought Kris flowers for her botany notebook at student council meetings. He’d done it every week for two years, and Emery was no longer sure where he was getting the flowers, but he never missed a week.

Kris wore a different barrette every day of the week, always butterflies on Monday. If she forgot to put it in or wore the wrong one, her anxiety would have her flitting around the student council room in a panic until Jacqueline let her leave to fix the situation.

Joel had found Emery on her first day at Fenhallow. He’d pulled her away from her mother’s protective covering, and he hadn’t even cared that she tried speaking Russian to him sometimes. He liked her before everyone else. He liked her after everyone else. She knew where his family lived in the city, but he may as well have sprung out of the campus ground. There was no Fenhallow without Joel.

Emery thought of Jacqueline standing over her, black hair pulled back in an imperious ponytail, snapping, “Get up, Ashworth. I’d tell you to stop being useless, but that might be too difficult for you.”

Emery got up.

She had her armor and her guns. From the Sandman’s portal she’d expected to enter a forest, but she stood now on a cracked and barren plain that stretched endlessly into the distance. Purple clouds filled the sky, flashing with the threat of lightning.

“Wes?”

Emery turned in a full circle. She was alone. It was a strange kind of aloneness, like standing on an empty arena floor, looked down upon by thousands of spectators. Every mind in the world was connected to the Dream, but the people of the Sleeping City would be the closest. The air around her rippled with half-formed images, there and gone again and replaced by something new. Green fields. Dark oceans. Rooms with blank walls. The insides of homes, the outsides of homes. Schools, planets, pitch black. To her left, a the image of a jungle treehouse solidified and began to move, a window in the midst of her great barren plain, looking onto a whole other world. After a few moments, it trickled away, and Emery had trouble remembering exactly what she’d seen inside it. The Dream oriented its windows around Emery, circling her.

Her mother had always said the Dream was a living thing. It knew when a dreamhunter entered it like a body knew a virus. And like a body and a virus, the Dream resisted invaders. It rejected the waking world.

It had wanted her to forget herself, and she hadn’t. Now, it seemed like it planned to let the dreams of the Sleeping City scare her off.

The problem was, she didn’t know how to get back. The Sandman’s gateway was gone, and even if she did know how to open one herself, she couldn’t leave the Dream without Wes.

Jumping through the Sandman’s gateway had not been her best decision ever. And now that she was out of the moment, trying to catch him in the Dream didn’t sound so appealing, either.

Her first order of business was finding Wes without upsetting the Dream. She had no idea how to do either of those, but standing around wasn’t getting her anywhere.

She looked at her cuff. It had clearly been too much to hope that she could just message Wes. Hey bud, where’re you at? Around the corner from the creepy sunken ship dream-window? Cool, I’ll be there in a sec. The cuff was a no-go. Not only did it get no signal in the Dream, it didn’t even turn on. The Dream didn’t like people, and it didn’t like technology.

“Alright, Em.” She clapped her hands together. “You are in the collective subconscious of the human race. How do you find another person?”

Maybe by wishing really hard.

She snorted. The Dream couldn’t take sarcasm from her.

Professor Lenton hadn’t been any help at all when it came to the Dream. They needed a dreamhunter to teach them these things. Class Twenty got special sessions from the full-time dreamhunters, but two more years seemed like an awfully long time to wait for adequate schooling when they were already allowed out on missions.

Breathe, Emery. Marcia told them to breathe. Yelled at them to breathe, actually. You can’t make good decisions if you don’t breathe, she’d say.

Emery breathed, and thought.

She could track nightmares, dreamhunters, even minor dreamforms in the waking world. All dreamhunters could, because they straddled the line between worlds. Those things felt different, like they didn’t belong. Maybe in the Dream she could track something from the waking world. But that meant she needed to move.

All the directions looked the same—long barren plain, angry flashing sky—so she picked one and started walking. She passed dream-windows as the Dream shifted them to keep its focus on her. Maybe, if this place knew she was here, it would know Wes and the Sandman were here, too. Maybe they would also cause disturbances.

“Wes!” Her voice echoed back to her, as if there were mountains in the distance. The only answer she expected was a slight shift in her mind, that sense she had in the waking world when a nightmare moved suddenly. There was nothing except the heavy, clogging fabric of the Dream pressing in around her. Though the landscape looked arid, the air felt humid.

Nothing to do about it. She’d have to keep moving.

“Wesley Jager, you useless piece of garbage!”

Insults pulled no replies, either. Emery’s boots kicked up little puffs of dust.

“Wes, I’m secretly in love with you. Thought you should know.”

Her sensing-the-waking-world in the Dream theory was probably nonsense. Or Wes was too far away.

How far could he be, really? She’d been holding as tight to him as she could when they went through the gateway. He hadn’t broken out of her grasp before, either, because she remembered a moment of falling through blackness with him at her side, his hammer flashing in the dark.

Her stomach turned. She started to jog.

“Wesley! I am straight up going to have my grandpa fail you if you don’t respond to this!”

The only response she got was a dream-window opening in her face. She pitched headfirst into someone’s mind.

She was on the plain one moment, and in the next standing on a long gravel road in a hazy cloudbank. She started running before she knew why. Sudden, immediate fear pulsed through her legs, clawing at her chest. Something was chasing her. She knew it before she heard it on the gravel behind her, before she felt the change in the air. She knew it the way a dreamer knows it when they drop into that familiar nightmare. The thing was big and had scales and when it caught her—when, not if—it was going to rip her arms out of their sockets.

Her legs sank into the gravel like mud. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. There was no end to the path.

She tripped. Her hands came out to stop her, and she realized she was holding guns. Revolvers.

Revolvers.

The Peacemakers snapped her back into herself. She twisted on the ground. The thing chasing her was lost to the mist, shape indistinct. She aimed for the center of the silhouette.

Her bullets tore through the dream like tissue paper. Instead of bursting in a cloud, the silhouette crumpled to the ground. A dead creature. It was already in the Dream; it had nowhere to return to.

Emery lowered her guns. This creature might have been cute, if it had ever come to the waking world. She would have dispatched it like all the rest, of course, but it might have been shambling and nonsensical and cute. Now it was dead.

The Dream wavered around her. The fear was gone now. The entire span of this person’s nightmare was probably being chased; there was nothing beyond that, so when the chase was done, the nightmare ended. The cloud bank shifted and revealed a patch of cracked and barren earth, angry purple sky. Emery holstered her guns and sprinted for it. She threw herself back into the wasteland.

It was a new area. Or maybe the old area, changed. Low scrub bushes grew from the cracks in the baked ground. The terrain rolled with hills.

She looked at her dead wrist cuff and wondered idly how long she’d been in the Dream. Time flowed differently here. That was what everyone said, at least. A few minutes could last the whole night; a lifetime could be compressed into seconds.

Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten since dinner, however long ago that had been, and she was fairly certain a waking world body couldn’t survive on Dream food. Or water.

She wasn’t panicking. She totally wasn’t panicking.

“WES!”

“Emery!”

His voice came from afar, as if echoing down a long hallway. She turned. Another window exploded around her. Wes’s hand caught hers and they fell; it happened so quickly she didn’t have time to be confused. Emery grabbed the hard ridges of Wes’s armor beneath his arms before the force of their fall could drag them apart again, and the handle of his hammer slid across the small of her back, barring her in.

“We’re falling!” she yelped.

The walls—if they really were walls, they were uniform gray and too far away to touch—led both up and down into blackness.

“I’ve been stuck here.” They were close enough that she heard him over the rushing of the wind. His eyes were wide, his expression relieved. “I kept seeing you through the windows in the walls, but I couldn’t get close enough to grab you. I don’t know how to get out.”

“You sound way too calm for this!” Emery’s stomach floated somewhere in her throat. “How much time do you think has passed?”

“A few hours. My cuff is dead.”

“So is mine, but it’s only felt like half an hour for me.”

He frowned. “We have no idea.”

“I do know that we can get out of here by reaching the end of the dream, though.”

They spun as they fell, and Emery’s hair whipped upward into Wes’s face. Spitting, he managed to swing them around until she was on top.

“How do you end a dream about falling?” he said.

“Usually…you wake up.”

Entirely unhelpful. Not only were they not alseep, the dreamer wasn’t around. If they had been, Emery might have been able to slap them awake at the very least. Enough disturbance in their dream space would wake up a dreamer.

Past Wes, a window opened. A slash of bright light against the darkness, directly below them, getting big fast. There was no way to stop and no time to warn Wes, so Emery wrapped her arms around his head and braced for the impact.

They dropped through the window and hung suspended above the cracked wasteland earth for a heartbeat, just long enough for Emery to realize they’d stopped. Then they started again and dropped the last five feet with a heavy thud.

Wes grunted. Emery unraveled her arms. His head thumped against the ground.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Fine. I think.” He sat up, pushing her back. He shrank his hammer and hung it on the chain around his neck. When he tried to stand, he wobbled and immediately fell back, face green. “Oh. I need to sit here for a second. I was falling for a long time.” He shoved his head between his knees.

Around them, the wasteland had changed again. Now sparse grass poked up in shoots and spurts through the cracks in the ground, and in the distance, skeletal trees created a path down a long hill. The purple clouds overhead had lightened, and in the distance far at the bottom of the hill, she spotted honest patches of green.

Emery rocked back on her heels and hooked two fingers over the lip of Wes’s boot. If she fell through another window, she was taking him with her, Dream physics be damned.

“For a while I thought I came in alone,” she said.

He glanced at her fingers on his boot, then at her face. “For a while I thought you threw me in.”

“I—I mean, I pulled you in, but I came, too—”

“I know.”

Her cheeks burned with humiliation. And she’d thought, before she’d tried to fire off her flare the first time, that Grandpa Al would be proud of her. She hated it. “Sorry. I didn’t think it through.”

Wes was silent for a moment.

Then: “Well, that was better than the last apology.”

She gave him a small rueful smile. He didn’t smile back, but he didn’t look angry either, and with him that seemed like a successful interaction.

“I don’t know about you,” he said, “but I don’t really care about the Sandman anymore. How are we getting out of here?”

“I have no clue. A gateway to the Dream can be opened from anywhere, so it seems reasonable to assume that a gateway back to the waking world can also be opened anywhere. I just don’t know how.”

Dream-windows continued to fade in and out around them. Emery watched, wary. She felt Wes tense at the same time she did when one window materialized a little too close.

“We could stay here and wait for help,” Wes said, “but I don’t think the Dream is going to let us.”

Emery snorted. “Really? What was your first—”

A window opened below their feet.

(Next time on The Children of Hypnos --> Some Dreams Are Worse Than Others)

[8dpromo]

All Good Funk Alliance - Let's Execute (Super Hi-Fi Recordings)

8DPromo · All Good Funk Alliance - Let's Execute (Super Hi-Fi Recordings)

The dynamic duo is back! All Good Funk Alliance return to Super Hi-Fi Recordings with Let’s Execute, a four-song EP filled to the brim with prime time funkiness. The Alliance — comprised of Frank Cueto and Rusty Belicek — have delivered their brand of tightly produced electronic jams for over 20 years and Let’s Execute is another essential piece in their funky equation. The title track sets things off with potent mid-tempo breakbeats and silky synth action. Enter the formidable voice of Big Stuff whose Big Daddy Kane-style flow connects the old and new schools. Paying homage to their DC-locale, the Funk Alliance next deliver “Control Your Roll” which is anchored in swinging go-go style rhythms. Black Masala adds some serious horns, creating a cool call-and-response with the synth lines and the overall groove. Vocalists Heidi Martin and the late Mustafa Akbar join the Alliance on “To The People,” a soulful cut with an uplifting, positive message — much needed in these times. The more up-tempo, four-on-the-floor “That Chord” closes out the EP, ending things on a stylish rush-to-the-dancefloor tip. Top jams successfully executed!

Steve / Fort Knox Five (Fort Knox Recordings) – “Top shelf funky tunes on this EP my brothers. ‘Let's execute’ will be lighting up dance floors in my sets, and ‘To the People’ captures Mustafa's soulful vocals perfectly.” Trotter (Royal Soul Records) – “Oh YES! Killer release guys, and right one time. Love it!” DadboE (Breakbeat Paradise) – “AGFA is back and funky as ever!” Morphosis (Hong Kong Ping Pong Club) – “Really nice EP, especially the super funky ‘Control Your Roll’. Big ups!” Barry Ashworth (Dub Pistols) – “Nice variation of funk, disco and laidback grooves.” Phoole (The Chewb Radio) – “The entire package is funk love!” Farbsie Funk (Make it Funky Collective) – “Dope! AGFA has still got it.” Quincy Jointz (Ibiza Global Radio) – “Yeah! Some new AGFA killers here. ‘To The People’ is a hit.” Matt Sonzala (Radio KAOS) – “Whoa! This is all good. Hell yes I would play this.” Double-D (Funky Fresh Radio Show) – “Funky Fresh Boogie Down Disco Party.”

Available Now From: Bandcamp, Juno Download, Apple Music, And Spotify.

[junxashwxrth]

 @delilahstfv  

In her defense, her first reaction would have been to punch. She didn’t expect backup, and she certainly didn’t expect such a pretty face, she blinked when she came barrelling through. Her fist ached lightly, and the overgrown toddler that had taken the pinned up mistletoe as a chance to grab her rump and attempt to kiss her had led to his bloody nose. Her newfound partner was behind her shoulder. She noted that he was crying,‘Pussy’ was her first thought before rounding on the girl, “Juno Ashworth,” she thrust her hand out, the one that could uncurl, “who’re you?” If she sent another person to Holden she knew she was going to get it, but the unnecessary grab from the still crying man-child was cooling her. 

[junxashwxrth]

Juno Agnes Ashworth. 21. Gryffindor. Intermediate.

Juno Ashworth, the daughter of Ser Robert Ashworth and Katherine Ashworth also known as ‘The Peerless’, grew up on the Southern Coast near Wareham on the rivers and estuaries where they lived in a large stone house, they were a well-known well liked family. From a young age, Juno was known to be a willful child, she was bright and mischevious, but also had trouble focusing and would get into fight, always biting off more than she could chew.

Her Mother was a powerful witch, known for her warding and battle magic, who began to train Juno in magic when she was very young. Juno excelled, and found herself to be excellent in Transfiguration and Hexwork and advanced quickly through the spellwork much to her Mother's delight.

Then suddenly things came to a standstill, Juno found herself hitting a wall, she couldn’t seem to figure out more advanced magic, spells began to fail her and she slowly began to panic. She had always felt pressure, to be just as good if not better than her Mother and she wanted it as well. She wanted people to look to her, to see someone worthwhile, someone they could trust.

The pressure became too much as it seemed all her skill escaped her and the pressure, the expectation fell on her shoulders and she, unlike Atlas, broke under the weight.  

Her Mother didn’t teach her any longer, didn’t seem to want anything to do with her, she was left to her own devices. Her brother egged her on, pushed her to try better, to prove that she wasn’t useless. She got into fights, she attended parties, would practice too advanced magic and get injured. Continually pushing herself beyond her bounds and keep (seemingly) disappointing her Mother. She had the great idea of proving her magical ability, something, not even her Mother had done. Slay a Dragon.

She spent a week running from the damn thing.

Then her Father sent her packing to his brother’s, so enraged of her stupidty. His brother was also a Knight and encouraged her seeking for glory and power, he took her on bandit hunts and into battles, she flourished for a time. Then one day she went alone, without her Uncle, and got captured. She was put up for ransom, and for a month was held in a cave, until she managed to fight her way out with advanced wandless magic. She still to this day cannot stand small places, haunted by being crammed, helpless in the dark.

Her Mother, angry, worried, upset and terrified for her twenty-one-year-old daughter had heard from other magical families of a school, a new magical school. Katherine Ashworth sent Juno packing North to Hogwarts. 

Sorted into Gryffindor, she finds herself resentful that her Mother sent her away, she is flippant about classes though she is talented. Most people find it exhausting how she always getting into scrapes and tussles, always the first to land herself into any bet or challenge. Her self-worth is low, for always failing the high expectations of herself and her parents (especially her Mother). She has a proper hatred for herself, looking in the mirror and seeing a failure. But she forever tries to prove her worth, her power and falls short. So she turns to drink, to fighting, to acting as if she doesn’t care. She is brave, gallant, standing up for others and always biting off more than she could chew but still finds herself lacking.  

[hallowedhallsroleplay]

Roland Kesser

Juno Ashworth