#phantom tropic woods

[crownednova]

Figures I drew for the Kirby Gotcha Collab!

[aliott-art]

Kirbtober day 8 : Phantom

I coudn't decide wich phantom boss choose for this one. So... I just drew them all ! It was also a nice color exercise, since they all have almost the same color palette

[aurathian]

By a Thread | AO3

For @zelinkcommunity Zelink Week 2023, prompt: by a thread. no totk spoilers here!

Fandom: Breath of the Wild

Rating: G

Summary: Link found many painful memories within Hyrule Castle, but perhaps this one hurt the most.

One of the more peculiar findings in Hyrule Castle was the amount of needles and the strange places Link discovered them. He visited Hyrule Castle many times–it called to him, even from the farthest reaches of the lands, dragged him back from snowy mountaintops and tropical shores. Something, or someone, pulled him there, but despite this pull the air was never urgent. Instead, malice particles floated slowly along the currents, directing him neither here nor there, simply allowing him to float with them.

And oftentimes, he floated to a desolate corner covered in rubble through which he dug only to find a sewing needle and bits of decayed thread.

Hyrule Castle was very quiet. Peaceful, almost, as though overpowering the evil energy that battled within. Like he was protected.

He made sure to pick up all the needles he found. He had discovered one in the dining room and another on a windowsill. One turned up in the barracks, on the deck overlooking where the soldiers mingled. A fourth one he discovered in Zelda’s study, up in the tower, and there he found some old miscellaneous embroideries and tapestries, some finished and others not. A fifth, he found outside along the winding path to one of the gatehouses.

His footsteps did not echo in the halls of the castle, no matter how high the ceilings or wide the walkways. The peaceful air stifled them, made it as though he wasn’t really there, like he was just a phantom wandering a memory. Even so, these memories were so clear; he was living them, and sometimes, he heard whispers from the others who had once been in them. Every now and then, when he turned a corner, he swore he heard the faintest murmur of his name.

On another castle expedition, the hero stumbled into the princess’s bedroom. Or, rather, what had been the princess’s bedroom, as tattered and ruined as it was now. Large piles of dust and debris covered the room, completely consuming whatever had once lain in those spots, and portions of the wall had been cracked open to the fresh air. The books on the shelves that lined the walls were either missing, collapsed on the floor, or decimated beyond recognition.

In the corner of the room, positioned by a window through which light and fresh air streamed, was a rocking chair that would creak with particularly strong gusts. The light from outside was like a beacon, lighting the way to the rotting wood covered by a small woven blanket.

Upon this rocking chair, Link found a needle.

Threaded through the needle was blue yarn, slightly lighter than the blue of his tunic, but it led to nowhere and was cut off in a matter of inches–but not by scissors. More likely by time. Its ends were frayed.

He looked around some more, but didn’t pry. Digging into what had been his princess’s belongings, no matter how decayed, ruined, or moldy, no matter how insignificant her sock drawer might be to the Hyrule of now, felt wrong. He would let her keep her dignity. He knew from his memories people spoke of her, and he would do his best still to protect her, from swords and tongues alike.

It’s not like there was much to dig through, anyway. Rubble and time had covered most of the room.

So he moved on. For once, he went beyond Zelda’s room and out through the blown-apart wall. When he was in Hyrule Castle, time simultaneously stopped and accelerated. Now it was nighttime, despite him entering in the morning, but the castle was so still, so quiet, he couldn’t tell. The moon washed its light over him, guiding him across the bridge he had walked onto.

Link knew from his memories that Zelda had been a researcher. From the frog she tried to make him (was it really him, or was that simply a vessel one hundred years removed?) eat, to the Ancient Columns at which she admonished him for following her, he was not surprised that these ventures also meant a lot of clutter in the study he had wandered into. The shelves were lined with miscellaneous rocks, flora, strange–and now fermented–liquids in glass vials, and the desks below were lined with books and scattered papers, all with illegible scribbling.

What did this room look like, one hundred years ago? He didn’t know. His memories–or perhaps were they Zelda’s, considering she was there every time? Their memories didn’t show him this room. They showed him a castle bridge upon which she was scolded by her father, they showed him a napping Zelda in Gerudo Desert, they showed her frustrated in a spring. And in every memory, she glowed.

Next to an open book upon the desk with some clear writing, albeit pages decayed, was a small embroidery hoop. The fabric he assumed to have once been a cream was now stained and slightly brown, the image on the hoop almost unidentifiable. After some squinting, holding the hoop in his hands and flipping it every which way, he realized.

The petals were hard to make out, but he finally recognized the familiar blue, followed it to the center where yellow dots emerged, and then down the green thread. A flower. But it was unfinished–parts of blue thread hung from one of the petals, the final piece needed to complete the puzzle. The needle on the chair.

Zelda could not finish this piece. No, she wasn’t allowed to, had it ripped away from her moments before its completion by the Calamity. The Silent Princess, gone with her.

He remembered something. He had seen this memory before. When she leapt in front of him as the Guardian aimed his laser, when her powers at last activated and saved his life but he fell anyway, wounded and exhausted and on the brink.

Princess Zelda had been so close. No, that time, she had fulfilled her wish, but still the mercy and victory she deserved was taken.

Link didn’t know if he felt angry. If he did, then at who? He certainly wasn’t angry at her. He could never be. The King, for pressuring her? No. He understood the nuances of the King’s situation. The Calamity, then? Yes. Well, everyone was, even those who weren’t there one hundred years ago.

He was angry with himself. The Hero of Hyrule had failed not only the kingdom but her, leaving her behind on that fateful day to face Ganon alone when he had sworn to protect her, sworn to protect Hyrule, defend her from swords and tongues alike.

He had been saved that day for a reason. To bring her back.

Now the air pulled him, beckoned him toward the sanctum from which he had seen a bright, piercing light, and he realized at last who had been calling to him the whole time.

[blrbaileys]

Mob Vote and Minecraft Updates in General

*Edit:* Warning - Extensive rambling with no through line or halfway decent structure

Idk, I need a place to put my thoughts.

The original mob vote concept was cool, 4 unique and honestly kinda challenging looking mobs, we can vote on which gets added. I'm actually a fan of Phantoms, despite them being a nusiance to most I think having flying mobs is cool and they should add more mobs that just fly about.

And I actually liked the follow ups where the mobs were tied into biomes because it wasn't *about* the mobs, they were just nice tie ins. But at the point we're at now they have to force us to be excited about the "features" these mobs add and while they are somewhat cool features, they aren't really much in isolation.

The Sniffer could've been much cooler bundled with an extensive update to say, the Jungle or Desert biomes, or an actually interesting archeology update.

Or in the Glow Squid case, its a weird single use feature, they could have easily bundled the glowing sign effect into Glowstone Dust.

None of this is to say adding more mobs is the wrong choice, I think the opposite, we need more mobs which just, don't have features attached.

Ambient mobs, fireflys, birds flying overhead, snakes in the Desert, rats around structures, more variety in the oceans (actual variety, the differnt combos of Tropical Fish are a nice touch, but the mob is the same regardless)

Then as you do updates, you can add features to them where it makes sense, but tying the feature to the mob from the get go and then forcing a vote on it just means less features in the long run. And I'm not unaware as to why they do it this way, the mob vote gets people talking, I mean I'm talking about it right now so I guess I'm not helping but whatever at this point we are half way through the vote anyway.

The chatter, even that against the mob vote conceptually pushes Minecraft into our feeds, even the BBC are reporting on Minecraft LIVE and the mob vote cause its a story now.

I will say on a slightly other note, the whole "modders can make this in one day argument" is kinda flat. Modders usually have to make it for one version in one language on one platform. Mojang have to consider localisation, cross-compatibility, actually conceptualising the mob idea, etc. That's not to say Modders aren't incredibly hard working, they usually are, but if you're looking to call Mojang lazy I wouldn't do it based off just that.

This is already a long af post with little coherency but we're rolling with it.

I think really what I want to see, as a player since like, 2012, is Mojang just to make bolder moves in regards to the updates. I want them to change core gameplay mechanics and just, see what happens. And yeah last time was 1.9 and it divided the community into two distinct parts that exist today but we need something like that alongside 2 new wood types.

In regards to recent/planned changes to villagers and the netherite upgrade template, its clear they are trying to lengthen the "midgame" of Minecraft to capitalize on how most people play (that being they have a 2-3 week fixation on the game each year and then stop) This sucks, don't strech your midgame, extend your endgame.

Add more powerful mobs in a new dimension, make a place where even netherite armour feels like iron. I have no doubt it'd be a nightmare for new players so make it difficult to get to (like the totally-not-a-portal-frame in the ancient citys) make the overall gameplay loop of Minecraft longer.

I'm going to stop here for now, if I'm bored/procrastinating studies enough I should actually format some of these thoughts into something.

Anyway, boycott the mob vote, its unlikely to do anything, they truly don't have to care, but people made posters and played Poor Mans Poison over them, can you really still vote after that?

[cwgames]

The Deadly Dees: It's the local four-Dee band, the Deadly Dee! They love to jam in front of a crowd and start each request off with a "Wa-WA!" (Let's Go!) Band meetings at the café can get heated due to their different musical tastes, but when the tunes kick in, they fall perfectly in sync.

His Primal Nemesis Forgo Dedede: the foul fiend standing guard at the bottom of the Redgar Volcano was... King Dedede again?! He calmed back down after you remove his menacing mask. So why did he kidnap Elfilin? He said he was being controlled, even before some strange beast put that mask on him!

King of the Beast Leongar: Here sits the powerful commander of the ferocious Beast Pack. He's become a pawn for an invading specimen from beyond the stars, tasked with gathering food, capturing the Waddle Dees to use as a power source, and—most importantly—retrieving the lost subspecimen tagged as ID-F87...

Invasive Species Fecto Forgo (Larva): When ID-F86 arrived, it began attacking all of the native wildlife. The creature was captured soon after and turned into a test subject. The native inhabitants used it to create tech beyond their wildest dreams. They eventually used that to leave the planet altogether, but ID-F86 remained forgotten and fractured.

Invasive Species Fecto Forgo: The invading species, alone and incomplete without Elfilin, was trapped in the Eternal Capsule. Their only refuge was the realm of their dreams. Those dreams spread powerful waves of psychic energy all over the world, slowly taking control of the animals they reached. Escape would require more energy...

Ultimate Life-Form Fecto Elfilis: The Elfilin we first met was born from a small, compassionate soul that hid behind greater, invasive ambitions. Without a soul to temper it's power, the creature's spatial-teleportation ability ran amok, opening mysterious vortices left and right. Now that they're whole again, they're already planning their next invasion...

Strong-Armed Illusion Phantom Gorimondo: This illusory beast was created with powerful psychic energy in a realm of dreams. It's not the real Gorimodo—just a phantom made of negative thoughts—but it's still incredibly strong! Since it's based on memories of the real Gorimondo, it can't resist a fruity snack.

Illusory Fronds Phantom Tropic Woods: This phantom in the form of Tropic Woods has grown mysteriously strong under the illsory sunlight of Forgo Dreams. Do you thinks its coconuts are illusions too? Wonder what they taste like...

Illusory Leopard Phantom Clawroline: The real Clawoline asked Kirby to help her save Leopard. This phantom feline is a fake! Formed from negative thoughts and powerful psychic energy, this wild beast doesn't seem to care about Leongar at all. She may be an illusion, but her claws will cause real damage!

His Illusory Nemesis Phantom King Dedede: This Dedede double is made of powerful psychic energy. It's an illusion of the King based on memories of his embarrassing turn under ID-F86's control, forced to work for Leongar and capture Elfilin. It has no memory of Kirby or the adventures they've shared... It's little more than a haughty, hollow husk.

Kirby Collection Vol. 4

Now we're getting to the final boss information.

Previous Page/Next Page

[kirbybossbracket]

ROUND ONE MASTERPOST

Group One

Heavy Lobster (Kirby Super Star) vs Soul of Sectonia (Kirby: Triple Deluxe)

Magolor (Kirby's Return to Dream Land) vs Shadow Kirby (Kirby Fighters 2)

Marx (Kirby Super Star) vs Lololo and Lalala (Kirby's Dream Land)

Francisca (Kirby Star Allies) vs Big Squishy (Kirby’s Block Ball)

Miracle Matter (Kirby 64: The Crystal Shards) vs Dark Nebula (Kirby: Squeak Squad)

Stock Meta Knight (Kirby: Planet Robobot) vs Tropic Woods

Yggy Woods (Kirby Star Allies) vs Dededestroyer Z (Kirby Battle Royale)

Moley (Kirby and the Amazing Mirror) vs Dedede Clone (Kirby: Planet Robobot)

Sweet Stuff (Kirby’s Dream Land 2) vs Hooplagoon (Kirby and the Rainbow Curse)

Magolor Soul (Kirby's Return to Dream Land) vs Kaboola/Kabula (Kirby's Dream Land)

The Three Mage Sisters (Kirby Star Allies) vs Mecha Knight+ (Kirby: Planet Robobot)

Dark Crafter (Kirby and the Rainbow Curse) vs Parallel Dedede (Kirby Star Allies)

Masked Dedede (Kirby Super Star Ultra) vs Fangora (Kirby’s Epic Yarn)

Clanky Woods (Kirby: Planet Robobot) vs Gigavolt (Kirby: Planet Robobot)

Mecha Knight (Kirby: Planet Robobot) vs Void Termina (Kirby Star Allies)

Hot Wings (Kirby’s Epic Yarn) vs Dark Matter Clone (Kirby: Planet Robobot)

Star Dream Soul OS (Kirby: Planet Robobot) vs Pon and Con (Kirby’s Dream Land 3)

Chaos Elfilis vs Taranza (Team Kirby Clash Deluxe)

Void (Kirby Star Allies) vs Mr. Dooter (Kirby's Return to Dream Land)

Master Hand and Crazy Hand (Kirby and the Amazing Mirror) vs Pyribbit (Kirby: Triple Deluxe)

Group Two

Zan Partizanne (Kirby Star Allies) vs Acro (Kirby’s Dream Land 3)

Shadow Dedede (Kirby: Triple Deluxe) vs King Golem (Kirby and the Amazing Mirror)

Dyna Blade (Kirby Super Star) vs Ice Dragon (Kirby’s Dream Land 2)

Nightmare (Kirby's Adventure) vs Skullord (Kirby Mass Attack)

Waning Crescent Masked Dedede and Waxing Crescent Masked Meta Knight (Kirby Fighters 2) vs Flowered Sectonia (Kirby: Triple Deluxe)

Parallel Meta Knight (Kirby Star Allies) vs Sectonia Clone (Kirby: Planet Robobot)

Phantom Gorimondo (Kirby and the Forgotten Land) vs Dark Matter (Kirby’s Dream Land 2)

Robo Dedede (Kirby's Dream Course) vs Queen Sectonia (Kirby: Triple Deluxe)

Phantom King Dedede (Kirby and the Forgotten Land) vs Claycia (Kirby and the Rainbow Curse)

Forgo Leon (Kirby and the Forgotten Land) vs Flamberge (Kirby Star Allies)

Phantom Sillydillo (Kirby and the Forgotten Land) vs Metal General (Kirby's Return to Dream Land)

Drawcia (Kirby: Canvas Curse) vs Twin Kracko (Kirby Star Allies)

Galacta Knight (Kirby Super Star Ultra) vs Heavy Mole (Kirby's Adventure)

Mecha-Kracko (Kirby: Squeak Squad) vs King Dedede (Kirby's Dream Land)

Parallel Nightmare (Super Kirby Clash) vs Chameleo Arm (Kirby Super Star)

Mrs. Moley (Kirby: Squeak Squad) vs Phantom Meta Knight (Kirby and the Forgotten Land)

Paintra (Kirby: Triple Deluxe) vs The Claykken (Kirby and the Rainbow Curse)

Coily Rattler (Kirby: Triple Deluxe) vs Big Kabu (Kirby’s Block Ball)

Wham Bam Rock (Kirby Super Star) vs Fecto Forgo (Kirby and the Forgotten Land)

Grand Doomer (Kirby's Return to Dream Land) vs Pix (Kirby 64: The Crystal Shards)

Group Three

Capamari (Kirby’s Epic Yarn) vs Phantom Forgo Dedede (Kirby and the Forgotten Land)

Mega Yin-Yarn (Kirby’s Epic Yarn) vs Marx Soul (Kirby Super Star Ultra)

Chaos Elfilis (Kirby and the Forgotten Land) vs Phantom Tropic Woods (Kirby and the Forgotten Land)

Poppy Bros. Sr (Kirby’s Pinball Land) vs Mr. Frosty (Kirby’s Block Ball)

Hyness (Kirby Star Allies) vs Holo Defense API (Kirby: Planet Robobot)

Galacta Nova Nucleus (Kirby Super Star) vs 02 (Kirby 64: The Crystal Shards)

Nruff and Nelly (Kirby’s Dream Land 2) vs HR-D3 (Kirby's Return to Dream Land)

Pres. Parallel Susie (Super Kirby Clash) vs Phantom Clawroline (Kirby and the Forgotten Land)

Dark Meta Knight (Kirby and the Amazing Mirror) vs Morpho Knight (Kirby Star Allies)

Void Termina - The True Destroyer of Worlds (Kirby Star Allies) vs HR-H (Kirby 64: The Crystal Shards)

Susie (Kirby: Planet Robobot) vs Goldon and Silvox (Kirby Star Allies)

Lor and Magolor (Kirby's Return to Dream Land) vs C.O.G.S (Kirby: Planet Robobot)

Flowery Woods (Kirby: Triple Deluxe) vs Mr. Shine and Mr. Bright (Kirby's Adventure)

Whispy Woods (Kirby's Dream Land) vs Zero (Kirby’s Dream Land 3)

Ado (Kirby’s Dream Land 3) vs Parallel Landia (Team Kirby Clash Deluxe)

Magman (Kirby 64: The Crystal Shards) vs Wiz (Kirby and the Amazing Mirror)

Combo Cannon (Kirby Super Star) vs Corrupted Hyness (Kirby Star Allies)

Reactor (Kirby Super Star) vs Gobbler (Kirby and the Amazing Mirror)

Clawroline (Kirby and the Forgotten Land) vs Twin Woods (Kirby Super Star)

Fecto Elfilis (Kirby and the Forgotten Land) vs Gorimondo (Kirby and the Forgotten Land)

Group Four

Star Dream (Kirby: Planet Robobot) vs Dark Mind (Kirby and the Amazing Mirror)

Sillydillo (Kirby and the Forgotten Land) vs President Haltmann (Kirby: Planet Robobot)

Brobo (Kirby’s Block Ball) vs Mega Titan (Kirby and the Amazing Mirror)

Lady Ivy (Kirby Mass Attack) vs Duo Edge (Kirby Fighters 2)

Bohboh (Kirby: Squeak Squad) vs Big Cappy (Kirby’s Block Ball)

Meta Knight (Kirby's Adventure) vs Goriath (Kirby's Return to Dream Land)

Computer Virus (Kirby Super Star) vs Yadgaine (Kirby: Squeak Squad)

Paint Roller (Kirby's Adventure) vs Orbservor (Kirby Tilt ‘n’ Tumble)

Grand Mam (Kirby Star Allies) vs Parallel Susie (Team Kirby Clash Deluxe)

Daroach (Kirby: Squeak Squad) vs Dedede Clones and D3 (Kirby: Planet Robobot)

Parallel Twin Kracko (Kirby Star Allies) vs Robo Bonkers (Kirby Battle Royale)

Kracko (Kirby's Dream Land) vs King D-Mind (Team Kirby Clash Deluxe)

Parallel Woods (Kirby Star Allies) vs Landia (Kirby's Return to Dream Land)

Yin-Yarn (Kirby’s Epic Yarn) vs Fatty Whale (Kirby Super Star)

Dark Taranza (Team Kirby Clash Deluxe) vs Void Soul (Kirby Star Allies)

Parallel Big Kracko (Kirby Star Allies) vs Drawcia Soul (Kirby: Canvas Curse)

King Dedede and Meta Knight (Kirby Fighters 2) vs Fatty Puffer (Kirby's Return to Dream Land)

Squashini (Kirby’s Epic Yarn) vs Forgo Dedede (Kirby and the Forgotten Land)

Necrodeus (Kirby Mass Attack) vs Leongar (Kirby and the Forgotten Land)

[starsandsteelandbrokenglass]

May 2023 Reading Wrap-Up

Happy summer! My semester is wrapped up and I'm finishing some time at home, but I'll be back to work as June gets underway. I'm doing quite a bit of traveling in July, so I have a lot to get done before that. But I've been taking things pretty easy this month which means lots of time for reading--14 books and about 4,800 pages! Here's the breakdown:

Hunted by the Sky (The Wrath of Ambar #1) by Tanaz Bhathena- 2.75/5 stars

The Castle School (for Troubled Girls) by Alyssa Sheinmel- 3.25/5 stars

African Europeans: An Untold History by Olivette Otele

Harrow the Ninth (The Locked Tomb #2) by Tamsyn Muir- 3.5/5 stars

All My Rage by Sabaa Tahir- 4.25/5 stars

A Natural History of Dragons (The Memoirs of Lady Trent #1) by Marie Brennan- 5/5 stars

The Tropic of Serpents (The Memoirs of Lady Trent #2) by Marie Brennan- 4.5/5 stars

The Conductors (Murder and Magic #1) by Nicole Glover- 3.5/5 stars

Beowulf: A New Translation by Anonymous, translated by Maria Dahvana Headley- 1/5 stars

Spectres of Antiquity: Classical Literature and the Gothic, 1740-1830 by James Uden

Girl, Serpent, Thorn by Melissa Bashardoust- 4.75/5 stars

The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster- 3/5 stars

Tyll by Daniel Kehlmann- 3.25/5 stars

The Box in the Woods (Truly Devious #4) by Maureen Johnson- 4/5 stars

My favorite book this month was A Natural History of Dragons (I'm really looking forward to picking up the rest of the series!), but I also enjoyed Girl, Serpent, Thorn a lot more than I was expecting.

Currently Reading: The City of Dusk (The Dark Gods #1) by Tara Sim and Classic Ghost Stories

[phoenixmaiden-gaming]

Isolated Isles: Forgo Dreams - Forgo Bay

I went to the next stage and this one was the beach area all meshed together in one stage, but with the forgo color scheme. It was really fun really. This time I scrounged around the areas to make sure I found all the pieces of soul before moving on. I then had to fight the Illusory Fronds Phantom Tropic Woods. It was a little harder than the actual one but I won and cleared the stage. (48/48 Leon’s Soul)

[phoebelovingcare]

my reaction to every boss in katfl:

Gorimondo: “I’ve been watching too much Hollow Knight because this fight feels SO SLOWWW”

Tropic Woods: “Nice fence.”

Clawroline: “YOU HAVE A HAT??? NO NO LEAVE IT ALL ON PLEASE-”

Meta Knight: “oH HELL YEAH THIS IS HOW YOU WERE MEANT TO BE FOUGHT THIS WHOLE TIME THIS LOOKS SICK!!!”

King Dedede: “Oh you’re here earlier than I was expecting / YOU HAVE ICE MAGIC?? SINCE WHEN”

Sillydillo: “Oh you are unnerving as all hell. I know in my heart you’re meant to be funny but I am freaked out rn”

Forgo Dedede: “?? new word? oh? / oooo wild boar mask!”

Leongar: “PARDON ME SIR YOU ARE IN THE WAY OF WHATEVER THE ACTUAL FUCK THAT IS.”

Fecto Forgo: “MMMMBAD.”

Fecto Elfilis: [softly but with feeling] “oh, you’re beautiful...”

[pause for break + to write a longass poem about fecto elfilis being gorgeous]

Phantom Versions: “oh hey, you guys all look like you’re under a blacklight - there’s a lot of animals that actually turn really vibrant blues and pinks under a blacklight. nifty!!”

Forgo Leon: “yeah that’s about what I expected to happen.”

Morpho Knight: “EYYYYYY I SAW YOU IN THE INTRO :D”

Phantom Meta Knight: “AYO??”

Chaos Elfilis: “[gaaaaaasp] OHHH THAT INTRO SHOT IS SO SILKY SMOOOOOOTH / oh god oh fuck oh shit why are you an orb oKAY I GET IT I GET IT YOU’RE TRAUMATIZED HOUGH BOY PLEASE I GET IT AND HERE WE ARE UH HUH IM SO SORRY”

[elegybeatty]

13 and 4 for the ask gameee

Something you wish had happened?

i get that they wanted to take things slow and stick to either series staple characters or brand new ones, but, god, i wish some older characters at least appeared as cameos, y'know? Magolor especially, but Ribbon, Ado, Susie, any of the Animal Buddies, Daroach, or pretty much any other character even semi-related to the games' story would've been SO cool!

Least favorite boss?

Tropic Woods, easily. Love the design and all, and it makes sense to have a new Woods boss since that's such a series staple, but they're just SO out of place in the story. Literally every other boss is a Beast Pack member, but Tropic is just...there. Did these animals let a sentient tree into their group?? Why is there even a Woods in the New World?? An it's Phantom version? SOOOO slow, easily the least fun boss. The rng based fences in phase 2, the lack of stars for people like me who enjoy playing without abilities, those stupid roots!! And in a game with so many cool, dynamic fights, to have 1 that's entirely static and is constantly pushing you away from it, it's so disappointing.

[charliemcarthy]

hello!! so ive been following u for a while now (since 2014 or earlier i think? i have vague memories of danny phantom merfic) and ur the only person i follow who posts about nancy drew so i Have to ask bc my curiosity keeps piquing over the years. i love puzzle/detective games, where do u think i should start if i wanted to get into the nancy drew games? :]

80 Hello! What a juicy ask to answer over my morning coffee >)

I have answered a couple asks/posts over the years about starting the games:

This one as well as this ask can be quick places to start <3

I also highly recommend this post made by Nancy-Drew-Designs that I just rebagled. I love the way they've organized the games into this chart, it's very reliable, even when taking int account that each game's difficulty can be suggestive. It might be easier to use this when you've got a few games below your belt, though! None of the above posts contain spoilers <3 (None of the below do either!)

This gets VERY long and rambly here, and I don't even mention all the games >>; Sorry!

So TBH my tastes/suggestions haven't changed much in the 4 years since I was asked which games were the 'best.' I will still stick by Ghost of Thorton Hall, Shadow at the Water's Edge, Final Scene. I will also toss Ghost Dogs of Moon Lake, The Haunted Carousel, or Message in a Haunted Mansion into the ring. ...Charlie loves spooky stuff, can you tell XD DOG, CAR, and MHM are all older games, and despite their age they have stood up to time pretty well.

MHM is a shorter game but riddled with spooks and creeps around every corner. There's a particular scare on the foyer staircase that chills me to this day. Play this in the dark with headphones on!

DOG was baby Charlie's first game and so it will always be one of my reccs. It's got ghost puppos, spooky woods, cemeteries, and talks of old gangsters in the roaring 20's! What's not to love!

CAR is another shortish game, with somewhat simple puzzles. I love theme parks too, I grew up with my folks working the town carnival. There's something about an empty theme park that soothes/relaxes me, but I think it's liminal space for a lotta people. I also like it's secondary plot/message about grieving and loss, and it's one of my most replayed games simply for the gentleness of it. The music is just haunting, too~

The nice thing about ND games is there is, literally, something for everyone! And they, most of them anyway, maintain their theme's integrity or showcase good, honest research to whatever their niche subject is. Some games you have to suspend disbelief more than others, for example Secret of the Scarlet Hand is NOT osha safe, and that's all I'll say about that. (But omg, is it a cool as fuck game, and they did their due diligence with Mayan culture, even made baby!Charlie stop and question why it was okay for museums to just...take from other cultures even in the name of learning and preservation. Like, good for them, my mom loved that sm.)

If you love orcas or the ocean, or perhaps have fond memories of East Coast livin', you'd enjoy Danger on Deception Island, or maybe you'd like to head to the tropics, in which case, Creature of Kapu Cave might be a fun one.

The Legend of the Crystal Skull has lots of perils and unease, and since it's rooted in New Orleans that's no surprise.

If you like horses, or old western romances, perhaps the Secret at Shadow Ranch will tempt you first!

You also can't go wrong with The Secret of the Old Clock, which is a cute lil rewind and lovingly recreates the first Nancy Drew book while still keeping itself fresh and unique. Plus hey, mini golf!

And if you were an Ancient Egypt kid, like so many of us were, then Secret of the Lost Tomb will be right up your alley~

And of course, if you want to literally start from the ground up, simply check the wiki, and you can play them in order <3 (Though I will suggest playing the Remastered Secrets Can Kill in place of game 1. XD It's a lil more fleshed out, more polished etc.)

The newer games, in my opinion, are sort of where things start to...fall apart. I have played The Silent Spy, Labyrinth of Lies and didn't like them. I played Sea of Darkness and did enjoy it but...well, let's put put this way:

I've played those newer games past GTH once. More out of desperation and loyalty for the old studio, frankly. They are not high on my list of recommendations, but perhaps you will play them and find something more to love than I did, Anon.

I've replayed most of the above recommendations since 2002, almost ad nausea, all different levels. Some of my best memories are playing them over with my friends, watching the game new through their eyes. I've converted a few who snubbed point and clicks into ND addicts, having had them tell me, "well these games are different. Even the campy, old ones--they just are."

Now, quickly, difficulty can be relative. I personally think some of the 'harder' games are easier and vice versa, but the games thankfully all come with Amateur and Master Sleuth modes.

There really isn't a wrong answer, to be honest. (Except Midnight in Salem. Please don't start with that one.)

Certainly go with your gut, and dig into titles that pique your interest beyond the ones I've mentioned. And of course, come back and tell me what you think!

[unsettlingshortstories]

Terra Incognita

Vladimir Nabokov (1931)

The sound of the waterfall grew more and more muffled, until it finally dissolved altogether, and we moved on through the wildwood of a hitherto unexplored region. We walked, and had been walking, for a long time already—in front, Gregson and I; our eight native porters behind, one after the other; last of all, whining and protesting at every step, came Cook. I knew that Gregson had recruited him on the advice of a local hunter. Cook had insisted that he was ready to do anything to get out of Zonraki, where they pass half the year brewing their von-gho and the other half drinking it. It remained unclear, however—or else I was already beginning to forget many things, as we walked on and on—exactly who this Cook was (a runaway sailor, perhaps?).

Gregson strode on beside me, sinewy, lanky, with bare, bony knees. He held a long-handled green butterfly net like a banner. The porters, big, glossy-brown Badonians with thick manes of hair and cobalt arabesques between their eyes, whom we had also engaged in Zonraki, walked with a strong, even step. Behind them straggled Cook, bloated, red-haired, with a drooping underlip, hands in pockets and carrying nothing. I recalled vaguely that at the outset of the expedition he had chattered a lot and made obscure jokes, in a manner he had, a mixture of insolence and servility, reminiscent of a Shakespearean clown; but soon his spirits fell and he grew glum and began to neglect his duties, which included interpreting, since Gregson’s understanding of the Badonian dialect was still poor.

There was something languorous and velvety about the heat. A stifling fragrance came from the inflorescences of Vallieria mirifica, mother-of-pearl in color and resembling clusters of soap bubbles, that arched across the narrow, dry streambed along which we proceeded. The branches of porphyroferous trees intertwined with those of the black-leafed limia to form a tunnel, penetrated here and there by a ray of hazy light. Above, in the thick mass of vegetation, among brilliant pendulous racemes and strange dark tangles of some kind, hoary monkeys snapped and chattered, while a cometlike bird flashed like Bengal light, crying out in its small, shrill voice. I kept telling myself that my head was heavy from the long march, the heat, the medley of colors, and the forest din, but secretly I knew that I was ill. I surmised it to be the local fever. I had resolved, however, to conceal my condition from Gregson, and had assumed a cheerful, even merry air, when disaster struck.

“It’s my fault,” said Gregson. “I should never have got involved with him.”

We were now alone. Cook and all eight of the natives, with tent, folding boat, supplies, and collections, had deserted us and vanished noiselessly while we busied ourselves in the thick bush, chasing fascinating insects. I think we tried to catch up with the fugitives—I do not recall clearly, but, in any case, we failed. We had to decide whether to return to Zonraki or continue our projected itinerary, across as yet unknown country, toward the Gurano Hills. The unknown won out. We moved on. I was already shivering all over and deafened by quinine, but still went on collecting nameless plants, while Gregson, though fully realizing the danger of our situation, continued catching butterflies and diptera as avidly as ever.

We had scarcely walked half a mile when suddenly Cook overtook us. His shirt was torn—apparently by himself, deliberately—and he was panting and gasping. Without a word Gregson drew his revolver and prepared to shoot the scoundrel, but he threw himself at Gregson’s feet and, shielding his head with both arms, began to swear that the natives had led him away by force and had wanted to eat him (which was a lie, for the Badonians are not cannibals). I suspect that he had easily incited them, stupid and timorous as they were, to abandon the dubious journey, but had not taken into account that he could not keep up with their powerful stride and, having fallen hopelessly behind, had returned to us. Because of him invaluable collections were lost. He had to die. But Gregson put away the revolver and we moved on, with Cook wheezing and stumbling behind.

The woods were gradually thinning. I was tormented by strange hallucinations. I gazed at the weird tree trunks, around some of which were coiled thick, flesh-colored snakes; suddenly I thought I saw, between the trunks, as though through my fingers, the mirror of a half-open wardrobe with dim reflections, but then I took hold of myself, looked more carefully, and found that it was only the deceptive glimmer of an acreana bush (a curly plant with large berries resembling plump prunes). After a while the trees parted altogether and the sky rose before us like a solid wall of blue. We were at the top of a steep incline. Below shimmered and steamed an enormous marsh, and, far beyond, one distinguished the tremulous silhouette of a mauve-colored range of hills.

“I swear to God we must turn back,” said Cook in a sobbing voice. “I swear to God we’ll perish in these swamps—I’ve got seven daughters and a dog at home. Let’s turn back—we know the way.…”

He wrung his hands, and the sweat rolled from his fat, red-browed face. “Home, home,” he kept repeating. “You’ve caught enough bugs. Let’s go home!”

Gregson and I began to descend the stony slope. At first Cook remained standing above, a small white figure against the monstrously green background of forest; but suddenly he threw up his hands, uttered a cry, and started to slither down after us.

The slope narrowed, forming a rocky crest that reached out like a long promontory into the marshes; they sparkled through the steamy haze. The noonday sky, now freed of its leafy veils, hung oppressively over us with its blinding darkness—yes, its blinding darkness, for there is no other way to describe it. I tried not to look up; but in this sky, at the very verge of my field of vision, there floated, always keeping up with me, whitish phantoms of plaster, stucco curlicues and rosettes, like those used to adorn European ceilings; however, I had only to look directly at them and they would vanish, and again the tropical sky would boom, as it were, with even, dense blueness. We were still walking along the rocky promontory, but it kept tapering and betraying us. Around it grew golden marsh reeds, like a million bared swords gleaming in the sun. Here and there flashed elongated pools, and over them hung dark swarms of midges. A large swamp flower, presumably an orchid, stretched toward me its drooping, downy lip, which seemed smeared with egg yolk. Gregson swung his net—and sank to his hips in the brocaded ooze as a gigantic swallowtail, with a flap of its satin wing, sailed away from him over the reeds, toward the shimmer of pale emanations where the indistinct folds of a window curtain seemed to hang. I must not, I said to myself, I must not.… I shifted my gaze and walked on beside Gregson, now over rock, now across hissing and lip-smacking soil. I felt chills, in spite of the greenhouse heat. I foresaw that in a moment I would collapse altogether, that the contours and convexities of delirium, showing through the sky and through the golden reeds, would gain complete control of my consciousness. At times Gregson and Cook seemed to grow transparent, and I thought I saw, through them, wallpaper with an endlessly repeated design of reeds. I took hold of myself, strained to keep my eyes open, and moved on. Cook by now was crawling on all fours, yelling, and snatching at Gregson’s legs, but the latter would shake him off and keep walking. I looked at Gregson, at his stubborn profile, and felt, to my horror, that I was forgetting who Gregson was, and why I was with him.

Meanwhile we kept sinking into the ooze more and more frequently, deeper and deeper; the insatiable mire would suck at us; and, wriggling, we would slip free. Cook kept falling down and crawling, covered with insect bites, all swollen and soaked, and, dear God, how he would squeal when disgusting bevies of minute, bright-green hydrotic snakes, attracted by our sweat, would take off in pursuit of us, tensing and uncoiling to sail two yards and then another two. I, however, was much more frightened by something else: now and then, on my left (always, for some reason, on my left), listing among the repetitious reeds, what seemed a large armchair but was actually a strange, cumbersome gray amphibian, whose name Gregson refused to tell me, would rise out of the swamp.

“A break,” said Gregson abruptly, “let’s take a break.”

By a stroke of luck we managed to scramble onto an islet of rock, surrounded by the swamp vegetation. Gregson took off his knapsack and issued us some native patties, smelling of ipecacuanha, and a dozen acreana fruit. How thirsty I was, and how little help was the scanty, astringent juice of the acreana.…

“Look, how odd,” Gregson said to me, not in English, but in some other language, so that Cook would not understand. “We must get through to the hills, but look, how odd—could the hills have been a mirage?—they are no longer visible.”

I raised myself up from my pillow and leaned my elbow on the resilient surface of the rock.… Yes, it was true that the hills were no longer visible; there was only the quivering vapor hanging over the marsh. Once again everything around me assumed an ambiguous transparency. I leaned back and said softly to Gregson, “You probably can’t see, but something keeps trying to come through.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Gregson.

I realized that what I was saying was nonsense and stopped. My head was spinning and there was a humming in my ears; Gregson, down on one knee, rummaged through his knapsack, but found no medicine there, and my supply was exhausted. Cook sat in silence, morosely picking at a rock. Through a rent in his shirtsleeve there showed a strange tattoo on his arm: a crystal tumbler with a teaspoon, very well executed.

“Vallière is sick—haven’t you got some tablets?” Gregson said to him. I did not hear the exact words, but I could guess the general sense of their talk, which would grow absurd and somehow spherical when I tried to listen more closely.

Cook turned slowly and the glassy tattoo slid off his skin to one side, remaining suspended in midair; then it floated off, floated off, and I pursued it with my frightened gaze, but, as I turned away, it lost itself in the vapor of the swamp, with a last faint gleam.

“Serves you right,” muttered Cook. “It’s just too bad. The same will happen to you and me. Just too bad.…”

In the course of the last few minutes—that is, ever since we had stopped to rest on the rocky islet—he seemed to have grown larger, had swelled, and there was now something mocking and dangerous about him. Gregson took off his sun helmet and, pulling out a dirty handkerchief, wiped his forehead, which was orange over the brows, and white above that. Then he put on his helmet again, leaned over to me, and said, “Pull yourself together, please” (or words to that effect). “We shall try to move on. The vapor is hiding the hills, but they are there. I am certain we have covered about half the swamp.” (This is all very approximate.)

“Murderer,” said Cook under his breath. The tattoo was now again on his forearm; not the entire glass, though, but one side of it—there was not quite enough room for the remainder, which quivered in space, casting reflections. “Murderer,” Cook repeated with satisfaction, raising his inflamed eyes. “I told you we would get stuck here. Black dogs eat too much carrion. Mi, re, fa, sol.”

“He’s a clown,” I softly informed Gregson, “a Shakespearean clown.”

“Clow, clow, clow,” Gregson answered, “clow, clow—clo, clo, clo.… Do you hear,” he went on, shouting in my ear. “You must get up. We have to move on.”

The rock was as white and as soft as a bed. I raised myself a little, but promptly fell back on the pillow.

“We shall have to carry him,” said Gregson’s faraway voice. “Give me a hand.”

“Fiddlesticks,” replied Cook (or so it sounded to me). “I suggest we enjoy some fresh meat before he dries up. Fa, sol, mi, re.”

“He’s sick, he’s sick too,” I cried to Gregson. “You’re here with two lunatics. Go ahead alone. You’ll make it.… Go.”

“Fat chance we’ll let him go,” said Cook.

Meanwhile delirious visions, taking advantage of the general confusion, were quietly and firmly finding their places. The lines of a dim ceiling stretched and crossed in the sky. A large armchair rose, as if supported from below, out of the swamp. Glossy birds flew through the haze of the marsh and, as they settled, one turned into the wooden knob of a bedpost, another into a decanter. Gathering all my willpower, I focused my gaze and drove off this dangerous trash. Above the reeds flew real birds with long flame-colored tails. The air buzzed with insects. Gregson was waving away a varicolored fly, and at the same time trying to determine its species. Finally he could contain himself no longer and caught it in his net. His motions underwent curious changes, as if someone kept reshuffling them. I saw him in different poses simultaneously; he was divesting himself of himself, as if he were made of many glass Gregsons whose outlines did not coincide. Then he condensed again, and stood up firmly. He was shaking Cook by the shoulder.

“You are going to help me carry him,” Gregson was saying distinctly. “If you were not a traitor, we would not be in this mess.”

Cook remained silent, but slowly flushed purple.

“See here, Cook, you’ll regret this,” said Gregson. “I’m telling you for the last time—”

At this point occurred what had been ripening for a long time. Cook drove his head like a bull into Gregson’s stomach. They both fell; Gregson had time to get his revolver out, but Cook managed to knock it out of his hand. Then they clutched each other and started rolling in their embrace, panting deafeningly. I looked at them, helpless. Cook’s broad back would grow tense and the vertebrae would show through his shirt; but suddenly, instead of his back, a leg, also his, would appear, covered with coppery hairs, and with a blue vein running up the skin, and Gregson was rolling on top of him. Gregson’s helmet flew off and wobbled away, like half of an enormous cardboard egg. From somewhere in the labyrinth of their bodies Cook’s fingers wriggled out, clenching a rusty but sharp knife; the knife entered Gregson’s back as if it were clay, but Gregson only gave a grunt, and they both rolled over several times; when I next saw my friend’s back the handle and top half of the blade protruded, while his hands had locked around Cook’s thick neck, which crunched as he squeezed, and Cook’s legs were twitching. They made one last full revolution, and now only a quarter of the blade was visible—no, a fifth—no, now not even that much showed: it had entered completely. Gregson grew still after having piled on top of Cook, who had also become motionless.

I watched, and it seemed to me (fogged as my senses were by fever) that this was all a harmless game, that in a moment they would get up and, when they had caught their breath, would peacefully carry me off across the swamp toward the cool blue hills, to some shady place with babbling water. But suddenly, at this last stage of my mortal illness—for I knew that in a few minutes I would die—in these final minutes everything grew completely lucid: I realized that all that was taking place around me was not the trick of an inflamed imagination, not the veil of delirium, through which unwelcome glimpses of my supposedly real existence in a distant European city (the wallpaper, the armchair, the glass of lemonade) were trying to show. I realized that the obtrusive room was fictitious, since everything beyond death is, at best, fictitious: an imitation of life hastily knocked together, the furnished rooms of nonexistence. I realized that reality was here, here beneath that wonderful, frightening tropical sky, among those gleaming swordlike reeds, in that vapor hanging over them, and in the thick-lipped flowers clinging to the flat islet, where, beside me, lay two clinched corpses. And, having realized this, I found within me the strength to crawl over to them and pull the knife from the back of Gregson, my leader, my dear friend. He was dead, quite dead, and all the little bottles in his pockets were broken and crushed. Cook, too, was dead, and his ink-black tongue protruded from his mouth. I pried open Gregson’s fingers and turned his body over. His lips were half-open and bloody; his face, which already seemed hardened, appeared badly shaven; the bluish whites of his eyes showed between the lids. For the last time I saw all this distinctly, consciously, with the seal of authenticity on everything—their skinned knees, the bright flies circling over them, the females of those flies already seeking a spot for oviposition. Fumbling with my enfeebled hands, I took a thick notebook out of my shirt pocket, but here I was overcome by weakness; I sat down and my head drooped. And yet I conquered this impatient fog of death and looked around. Blue air, heat, solitude.… And how sorry I felt for Gregson, who would never return home—I even remembered his wife and the old cook, and his parrots, and many other things. Then I thought about our discoveries, our precious finds, the rare, still undescribed plants and animals that now would never be named by us. I was alone. Hazier flashed the reeds, dimmer flamed the sky. My eyes followed an exquisite beetle that was crawling across a stone, but I had no strength left to catch it. Everything around me was fading, leaving bare the scenery of death—a few pieces of realistic furniture and four walls. My last motion was to open the book, which was damp with my sweat, for I absolutely had to make a note of something; but, alas, it slipped out of my hand. I groped all along the blanket, but it was no longer there.

[blackcatfromthevoid]

Things I wanna see in minecraft

Penguins! They'll just be waddling around in all the cold biomes but mainly glaciers and tundra. They'll also have an animation of them sliding on their belly and swimming thru the water catching fish. You could give them cod or salmon to breed them. It'd be cool to tame them too. Their item drops on death would mainly be ice, cod, and a feather.

Sharks! Instead of them being a hostile mob they're neutral. They'll usually swim lower in the water and if you throw your unwanted items away they'll eat it. Dolphins become hostile towards the sharks and often fight them. Also you could give sharks some fish (cod or salmon) or a bone and befriend or breed them. On death they drop mainly bones, bone meal, and string.

Seals! They live in the cold biomes just like penguins and are usually hostile to them. They are also a neutral mob. You can give them cod to breed them. On death they mainly drop leather and perhaps a new item their blubber.

Raccoons! They usually live in the forest biomes like forest, birch forest, dark oak woods, etc. They usually roam around and runs away from you like the fox mob. Also if you drop anything valuable or food items they'll steal it from you (they especially like stealing diamonds and cookies). They can be fed any food item (except pufferfish) however to breed them you use sweet berries. A possible new food item grapes can be used to tame them. On death if they have stolen something from you they'll drop said item. If they didn't steal anything they'll mainly drop sweet berries.

Frogs and Toads! Colorful Poisonous frogs that live in the jungles and bumpy toads that chill in the swamps. If you get too close to the Poisonous frog you take slight damage like walking into a cactus. If you eat them it has the same effect as pufferfish. Their poison can be use to put on arrows. A possible new weapon their poison could be used for are darts. On death they drop slime blocks and new items their poison gland and frog legs. For toads, they can be found in swamps usually chilling on lily pads. There is a chance for a poisonous toad to spawn which will act similar to the poisonous frog however the poison isn't as potent. On death they'll drop slime blocks and frog legs. There is also a chance to get a new item the toads eye.

Dogs! We have tamed wolves but not dogs. I want the dogs to be the same as cats where there's different breeds that will spawn in villages along with the cats. Some dog breeds I wanna see: German Sheppard, Shiba Inu, Corgi, Golden Retriever, Pitbull (these are all I can think of for now). Also dogs will be able to help you herd cows, sheep, pigs, horses, etc, into your stable areas or barn.

Update for cats! I want some new breeds like Persian, Siamese, Sphinx, Norwegian Forest Cat, etc. Also they actively scare away creepers and sometimes attacks them too. Also if your cat really likes you they'll occasionally give you a gift witch could range from flowers, feathers, or raw chicken. Tamed or untamed cats will hunt chickens.

Tigers! Usually an aggressive mob and will hunt food mobs like sheep, pigs, chicken, cows, fish, etc. They live in the jungles or any biome with a tropical climate. When they're not hunting they love to play in any nearby water. The tiger mob attacks the player under certain occasions, if the player gets too close to one with cubs, if the player attacks the tiger, or if the tiger is extremely hungry. If the player attacks the tiger for some reason and manages to get away before dying then the tiger will stalk the player until it finishes the job. To breed tigers give them chicken. Its possible to befriend tigers too, just keep them fed. On death they drop string and chicken or fish.

Alicorns! They're an extremely rare encounter however if you see them they'll give you pretty positive status effects like: strength, speed, haste, jump boost, fortune, etc. Alicorns are neutral mobs too. If you attack them it'll turn into a boss. They'll strike you with lightning, charge at you (from sky and land), and try to trample you. They have high health like the ender dragon and drop just as much XP. Items they can drop are feathers, new items they can drop are their horn. There's a possible way to tame them to however it's a long and expensive process. If you do tame them then you can ride them instead of using an elytra.

Imps! They're only in the Nether and are always aggressive. When they attack you they usually have a mocking sounding laugh. They fly around and if its 1 imp then they'll shot arrows at you. If its multiple then they'll sometimes pick the player up and drop them at a random place. Usually they'll do an attack similar to the phantom. If you attack them they'll run away from you long enough for the player to stop but comes back to attack again. They're about the size of bats so hitting them is hard however they don't have a lot of health. On death they'll drop a magma block, a bow, glowing arrows. They have a small chance to drop a blaze rod too.

[inafternoonair]

Top 101 songs of 2020

A lot of songs.

[Previously: 2019 | 2018 | 2017 | 2016 | 2015 | 2014 | 2013 | 2012 | 2011]

101. Hinds -- “Good Bad Times” 100. Purity Ring -- “stardew” 99. Future Islands -- “For Sure” 98. Jason Isbell -- “Be Afraid” 97. Bully -- “Every Tradition” 96. Sea Wolf -- “Forever Nevermore”

95. Trace Mountains -- “Lost in the Country” 94. GRMLN -- “Grow” 93. Ryan Hemsworth -- “All These Dreams” 92. Flume -- “The Difference (feat. Toro y Moi)” 91. Mary Lattimore -- “Til A Mermaid Drags You Under”

90. beabadoobee -- “Worth It” 89. Small Black -- “Tampa” 88. Bullion -- “We Had A Good Time” 87. Christine and the Queens -- “Je disparais dans tes bras” 86. Porches -- “I Wanna Ride”

85. Magdalena Bay -- “Airplane” 84. Diplo -- “Dance with Me (feat. Thomas Rhett & Young Thug)” 83. Chromatics -- “TOY” 82. Adrianne Lenker -- “half return” 81. Katie Dey -- “Darkness”

80. Hovvdy -- “Runner” 79. Phantom Posse -- “Changing” 78. Ariana Grande -- “positions” 77. Yves Tumor -- “Gospel For a New Century” 76. Young Guv -- “Cold In The Summer”

75. Baths -- “Tropic Laurel” 74. Khotin -- “Ivory Tower” 73. Hayley Williams -- “Pure Love” 72. The Beths -- “Acrid” 71. Drake -- “Laugh Now Cry Later (feat. Lil Durk)”

70. BUMPER -- “You Can Get It” 69. Charmer -- “Wolf Fang Fist” 68. Porter Robinson -- “Get Your Wish” 67. Dua Lipa -- “Cool” 66. Samia -- “Fit N Full”

65. Day Wave -- “Starting Again” 64. Ratboys -- “I Go Out at Night” 63. Beach Bunny -- “Ms. California” 62. Zedd & Jasmine Thompson -- “Funny” 61. Drake & Future -- “Life Is Good”

60. Hum -- “In The Den” 59. Snarls -- “Walk in the Woods” 58. Dogleg -- “Kawasaki Backflip” 57. Salem -- “Sears Tower” 56. Four Tet -- “Baby”

55. Kacy Hill -- “Much Higher” 54. Selena Gomez -- “Look At Her Now” 53. Barely Civil -- “Box For My Organs” 52. Slow Pulp -- “At It Again” 51. Mikey Erg -- “Colleen”

50. Double Grave -- “Long Drive Home” 49. Woods -- “Can’t Get Out” 48. Oneohtrix Point Never -- “I Don’t Love Me Anymore” 47. Andrew Cedemark -- “Not Enough” 46. Fawning -- “Hair Down”

45. Romy -- “Lifetime” 44. Phoebe Bridgers -- “Kyoto” 43. The 1975 -- “Me & You Together Song” 42. Nilüfer Yanya -- “Crash” 41. Megan Thee Stallion -- “Circles”

40. Allison Crutchfield -- “La Familia (Mirah cover)” 39. Soccer Mommy -- “bloodstream” 38. Cyrus Gengras -- “Turning Mind” 37. dvsn -- “No Cryin (feat. Future)” 36. Hazel English -- “Off My Mind”

35. Mac Miller -- “Once A Day” 34. HAIM -- “I Know Alone” 33. Cloud Nothings -- “A Silent Reaction” 32. Porches -- “I Miss That” 31. Caribou -- “Like I Loved You”

30. Nap Eyes -- “Though I Wish I Could” 29. Grimes -- “You’ll miss me when I’m not around” 28. Magdalena Bay -- “Live 4ever” 27. Waxahatchee -- “Fire” 26. Frass Green -- “She’s Not Game”

25. Kim Petras -- “Malibu” 24. The Goodbye Party -- “Unlucky Stars” 23. Tomberlin -- “Wasted” 22. Machine Gun Kelly -- “forget me too (feat. Halsey)” 21. No Age -- “Turned To String”

20. Bartees Strange -- “Mustang” 19. Widowspeak -- “Plum” 18. 100 gecs -- “ringtone (Remix)” 17. KEY! -- “Boys Don’t Cry” 16. Dirty Projectors -- “Lose Your Love”

15. Tycho -- “Outer Sunset” 14. Washed Out -- “Too Late” 13. I’m Glad It’s You -- “Big Sound” 12. Rio Da Young OG -- “Take A Day” 11. Taylor Swift -- “invisible string”

10. Carly Rae Jepsen -- “Solo” 9. Jam City -- “Climb Back Down” 8. Cave People -- “Room” 7. Hotboii -- “Don’t Need Time” 6. Charli XCX -- “forever”

5. Kevin Krauter -- “Surprise” 4. Real Estate -- “November” 3. Night Shop -- “Waiting” 2. Lil Uzi Vert -- “Venetia” 1. Kevin Morby -- “Wander”

[read more about it]

[validwofhybridnames]

Hi! Prepare to be bombarded with names! Bluejay (silk/sky) Adder (sand/hive adder bug) Silverleaf (leaf/hive silverleaf whitefly) Sakura (rain/leaf, japanese for cherry blossom), Chrysothemis (rain/any, tropical plant), Khione (ice, greek goddess of snow)Umbra (rain/night) Chuparosa (sand/rain), Amber Phantom (silk/night/rain, amber phantom butterfly) Scorpionfly (sand/hive, a real bug) Arcane (night/any)Elodea (leaf/sea), Wood-Nymph (silk/leaf) and Duskywing (silk/night, duskywing butterfly)

:0 ty anon!

[iandeleonwrites]

Ian’s Case: A Personal Statement for Grad School Admission

Personal Statement, Ian Deleón

“He felt something strike his chest, and that his body was being thrown swiftly through the air, on and on, immeasurably far and fast, while his limbs were gently relaxed.”

It was more than a decade ago when I first read those words. Written by the American author Willa Cather, Paul’s Case: A Study in Temperament has always felt to me like an intimate account of my own life penned by a woman one hundred years in the past. 

That is a feeling which makes me proud; that my personal whims, fears, and desires, could find their echo long ago in a story about a young man and his pursuit of a meaningful life. Because of it, I felt a pleasing sense of historicity at a time when I was struggling so much with my own. 

I grew up in Miami Beach. Literally not more than a block away from water for most of my life. My father had emigrated from Cuba with his family in 1980. My mother had come on a work visa from Brazil a few years later. They met on the beach, had an affair, and I came into the world in May of 1987. 

My life was marked with in betweenness from the very beginning. My parents’ relationship did not last long, so I grew up traveling between houses. I had two families. I was American, but I was also Cuban and Brazilian. I even have a Brazilian passport. I spoke three languages fluently, but I couldn’t dance salsa or samba. I felt at home with the working class immigrants and people of color in my neighborhoods, but I often had to work hard to prove I wasn’t just some gringo with a knack for foreign tongues.  

[A quick note on Paul’s Case––If it happens that the reader is not familiar with the short story, let me briefly summarize it here:  A disenchanted youth in turn of the century Pittsburgh feels increasingly alienated from his schoolmates, his teachers and his family. His only comfort is his position as an usher at Carnegie Hall, where he loses himself in the glamour of the art life. Having no drive or desire to become an artist, however, the dandy Paul makes a spur of the moment criminal decision and elopes to New York City. There, he is able to live out his fantasies in a financial masquerade for about a week’s time, until the authorities back home finger him for monetary theft. Learning that his father is en route to the city to collect him, Paul travels to the countryside and flings himself in front of a speeding train, musing about the elegant brevity of winter flowers.]

When I first encountered Cather’s short story I was blown away by the parallels I saw between my own life and Paul’s. In 2005, fresh out of high school, I was living mostly with my father as my mother had relocated to faraway West Palm Beach. I was an usher at the local concert hall, a job I cherished enough to volunteer my time for free. I became entranced by the world of classical music, opera, theater, and spectacle––often showing up for work early and roaming the performance spaces, probing high and low like some kind of millenial phantom. 

In school, however, I had no direction, no plan. I had good enough grades, but no real motivation, and worst of all, I thought, no discernible talent. I probably resented my father for not being cultured enough to teach me about music, theater, and the arts. No one in my family had ever even been to a museum, or sat before a chamber orchestra. And it didn’t seem to matter to them either, they could somehow live blissfully without it. 

Well I couldn’t. I began to mimic the fervor with which Paul immersed himself in that world, while also exhibiting the same panic at the thought of not being able to sustain my treasured experiences without a marketable contribution to them. But here is where Paul and I take divergent paths. 

I was attending the Miami Dade Honors College, breezing my way towards an associate’s degree. I took classes in Oceanography, Sociology, Creative Writing, Acting and African Drumming. I was experimenting and falling in love with everything. 

But it was my Creative Writing professor, Michael Hettich, who really encouraged the development of my nascent writing talent. Up until that point my ideas only found their expression through class assignments, particularly book reports and essays on historical events. My sister had always felt I had a way with words, but I just attributed this to growing up in a multicultural environment amongst a diversity of native languages.  

As a result of that encouragement I began to write poetry, little songs and treatments for film ideas based on the short stories we were talking about in class. Somehow, thanks to those lines of poetry and a few amateur photographic self portraits, I was admitted to the Massachusetts College of Art & Design for my BFA program. 

There, I attended classes in Printmaking, Paper Making, Performance Art, Video Editing, and Glass Blowing. I was immersed in culture, attending lectures and workshops, adding new words to my vocabulary: “New Media” and “gestalt”. I saw my first snowfall. I had the dubious honor of appearing at once not Hispanic and yet different enough. I was overwhelmed. I felt increasingly disenchanted and out of place in New England, yet my work flourished and grew stronger. 

It was during this time that I developed a passion for live performance and engagement with an audience. I also worked with multi-channel video and sculptural installations. Always, I commented on my family history, grappling with it, the emigrations and immigrations. I even returned to those early short stories from Miami Dade, one time doing an interpretive movement piece based on The Yellow Wallpaper. Most often I talked about my father. He was even in a few of my projects. He was a good sport, though we still had the occasional heated political disagreement. We never held any grudges, and made up again rather quickly. It would always be that way, intense periods of warming and cooling. A tropical temperament, I suppose. 

I continued to take film-related classes in Boston, but my interests gradually became highly abstracted, subtle, and decidedly avant-garde. I had no desire to work in a coherently narrative medium. This would eventually change, but for now, I let my ambitions and aspirations take me where they would. 

I returned home to Miami for a spell after graduation. I traveled the world for five months after that. I moved back to Boston for another couple of years, because it was comfortable I suppose, though I was fed up with the weather. 

Finally, I wound up in NYC. Classic story: I followed a charming young woman, another performance artist as luck would have it, a writer too, and a bit of an outsider. We were quickly engaged and on the first anniversary of our meet cute we were married on a gorgeous piece of land in upstate new york, owned by an older performance-loving couple from the city. Piece of land doesn’t quite do it justice, we’re talking massive tracts, hidden acres of forest, sudden lakes, fertile fields, and precocious wildlife. As they say in the movies, it really is all about location, location, location. 

Nearly all of our significant personal and professional achievements in the subsequent years have centered around this bucolic homestead. After meeting, courting, researching and eventually getting married there, we soon decided we would stage our most ambitious project to date in this magical space––we would shoot...a movie.

We hit upon the curious story of an eighteenth century woman in England called Mary Toft. Dear Mary became famous for a months-long ruse that involved her supposed birthing of rabbits, and sometimes cats. The small town hoax ballooned into a national controversy when it was eventually exposed by some of the king’s physicians. My wife and I were completely enthralled by this story and its contemporary implications. Was Mary wholly complicit in the mischievous acts, or was she herself a sort of duped victim...of systematic abuse at the hands of her family, her husband, her country? 

We soon found a way to adapt and give this tale a modern twist that recast Mary as a woman of color alone in the woods navigating a host of creepy men, a miscarriage, and a supernatural rabbit. 

Over the course of nine months, our idea gestated and began taking the form of a short film screenplay. This was something neither of us had done or been adequately trained to do before. But we knew we wanted it to be special, it was our passion project. We knew we didn’t want it to look amateurish––we were too old for that. So we took out a loan, hired an amazing camera crew, and in three consecutive days in the summer of 2017 we filmed our story, Velvet Cry. It was the most difficult thing either of us had undertaken...including planning our nuptial ceremony around our difficult families. 

It was an incredible experience––intoxicating––also quite maddening and stressful. But it was all worth it. Because of our work schedules, it took us another year to finish post production on the film, but throughout that process, I knew I had found my calling. I would be a writer, and I would be a Director. 

Perhaps I had been too afraid to dream the big dream before. Perhaps I had lacked the confidence, or simply, the life experience to tackle the complexity of human emotions, narratives, and interactions––but no longer. This is what I wanted to do and I had to find a way to get better at doing it. 

In the intervening months, I have set myself on a course to develop my writing abilities as quickly as I could in anticipation of this application process. I know I have some latent talent, but it has been a long time since I’ve been in an academic setting, and in any case, I have never really attempted to craft drama on this scale before. 

I’ve read many books, listened to countless interviews, attended online classes, and most importantly, written my heart out since relocating down the coast to the small college town of Gainesville in Central Florida with my wife in June of 2018. It was through a trip to her alma mater of Hollins University that we learned about the co-ed graduate program in screenwriting a few months ago. After all the debt I accrued in New England, I didn’t think I would ever go back to college, though I greatly enjoyed the experience. But what we learned about the program filled me with confidence and a desire to share in the wonderful legacy of this school that my wife is always gushing about. 

Our Skype conversation with Tim Albaugh proved to be the deciding factor. I knew instantly that I wanted to be a part of anything that he was involved with, and I had the feeling that my ideas would truly be nurtured and harnessed into a craft––something tangible I could be proud of and use to propel my career. 

I continue to mine my childhood and adolescence in Miami for critical stories and characters, situations that shed light on my own personal experience of life. I’ve found myself coming back to Paul’s Case. No longer caught up in the character’s stagnant, brooding longings for a grander life, I’m now able to revisit the story, appreciating the young man’s anxieties while evaluating how it all went so fatally wrong for Paul. There was no reason to despair, no cause for lost hope. I would take the necessary steps to become the artist I already know myself to be. The screenplay I am submitting as my writing sample is a new adaptation of this story, making Paul my own, and giving him a little bit of that South Florida flavor. 

I will close by reiterating how I have visited Hollins, and heard many a positive review from the powerful women I know who have attended college there. As a graduate student, I know Hollins can help me to become a screenwriter, to become a filmmaker. This is the only graduate program to which I am applying––I have a very good feeling about all this.

I want to be a Hollins girl.