#restless spirits distilling

[astrolovecosmos]

Aries - Libra Axis: Tells a story about taking action vs. indecision, inaction, and procrastination. Tells a story about selfishness but also giving to the detriment of self, lack of boundaries, assertion, charm, persuasion, force, peace and war, leadership and cooperation, independence vs. partnerships, passion, romance, self-awareness vs. shallowness and detachment, insensitivity vs. tact, cheating and deception, winning and losing, honesty and bravery. Tells a story about lovers and fighters.

Taurus - Scorpio Axis: Tells a story about control, power, jealousy, resentment, stubbornness, indulgence and sensuality, comfort and thrill, safety and danger, possessive behavior, materialism, emotional strength and influence, inner security or contentment and inner empowerment and passion, willpower, revenge, grudges, manipulation, obsession, seduction, self-destruction, transformation and rebuilding. Tells a story about self-mastery and self-esteem.

Gemini - Sagittarius Axis: Tells a story about communication, learning, knowledge, teaching, exploration of mind, body, and the world, trickery, con artists, betrayal, support, lies and truth, versatility, duality, variety, curiosity, superficiality vs. depth, philosophy, morals, logic, spontaneity and fickleness, symmetry vs. asymmetry, restlessness, carelessness, freedom, exaggeration vs. factual, movement, cunning wit and intellect as well as wisdom, optimism vs. skepticism, dissembling, analyzing, deception, schemes, gossip, boasting, charm vs. tactlessness, and promises. Tells a story about storytelling - lessons and adaptation.

Cancer - Capricorn Axis: Tells a story about protection, self-preservation, endurance, practicality, emotions and rationality, defense vs. offense, vulnerability, attachment, clinging vs. self-reliance, sentiment, nostalgia, home and family, ambition, purpose, clans, tribes, societies, private world vs. external/outer world, moods, cycles, authority, parents/mothers and fathers, caution, responsibility, duty, patience, compassion vs. cruelty, intuition, shrewdness, strategy, contentment vs. dissatisfaction, security vs. insecurity. Tells a story about needs and being uninhibited, as well as control and discipline.

Leo - Aquarius Axis: Tells a story about leadership, charisma, confidence, individuality, self-expression, creativity, innovation, the power of one vs. the power of the many, attention, compulsion, pride, ego, play and discovery, experimentation and rebellion, drama, curiosity, socialization, influence, dignity, generosity, benevolence and/or common good, chaos, destruction, passion vs. dispassion, humanity, divinity, fellowship, organized groups, separation or standing apart, control or tyranny, strangeness and what's rejected vs. what's accepted or even celebrated. Tells a story about the king/queen/politician and anarchist/rebellion/revolutionist.

Virgo - Pisces Axis: Tells a story about the spirit and body, healing, helping others, service, caring for others, listening to your body or your intuition, purity vs. corruption, compassion, sensitivity, impressions, flexibility, logic, imagination, being receptive, mysticism, confusion, illusions, clarity, distillation, categorizing, researching, analyzing - a thorough search for facts/truth. Tells a story about sacrifice, empathy, saving others, discernment, efficiency and productivity vs. procrastination and rest, modesty, free and flowing energy vs. precise and predictable energy, perfectionism vs. admiring flaws, realism or skepticism vs. idealism, details vs. big picture. Tells a story about the dreamer and the worker, the ability to make our dreams come true.

[thenexusofsouls]

Headcanon Directory: Nuada's inborn wildness, known as croí fiáin, and The Iron Malady, a devastating Elven affliction

{i am the caretaker of souls} Alright, folks... this is mostly going to be here for my own use and to organize all my thoughts in one place so that I don't have to keep bouncing around to these posts if I'm looking for information to write replies with, haha, but they're also here for anyone to read if they wish. They are topics that will be coming up in replies I'm writing today, so I figured I'd put them here in case there are some of you who write your muses with Nuada but were unfamiliar with his previous blog. These are not canon for the movie version of Nuada, but rather are for my own interpretation of him. Below the cut for length, as always.

The Inborn Wildness Condition, Croí Fiáin (Wild Heart)

Pertinent Post Links:

Definition and reference to a movie character with a similar condition

What Nuada's wildness is, in his own words

How his wildness is perceived by in his family, in his own words

Summary:

At its core, croí fiáin refers to that wildness deep inside Nuada that he can neither control nor eradicate. It's something he was born with and will always have. It's that spark of edgy or exhilarating fierceness and love of personal freedom and identity. That might make no sense, I realize, heh, because I'm honestly terrible at explaining this concept. Think of it as that nebulous aspect that makes the difference between an animal that cannot be domesticated vs. one who can. Or that driving force some people have to never stay in one place for long, to wander, or to adventure. Or that fire, passion, or unpredictability some people have inside them that can show itself at a moment's notice and at unexpected times. That's what the wildness is.

Some people don't have it at all, some have a little, and some, like Nuada, have it to an extreme. For him, there are a couple reasons why he has it. Some are just naturally born with it, and he was, but also it's because he's an Sun Elven twin, and because he has another condition called a shared soul. In his culture, twins are seen as two halves of the same soul, incomplete alone but complementary to each other. Together, they make a whole person. That's mostly just lore, but in Nuada and Nuala's case, they happened to be born with an actual shared soul. That's the reason they can feel each other's pain and emotions, and why their bodies retain injuries incurred by the other. So not only was Nuada born with this croí fiáin condition, but it's distilled down, isolated, and amplified by the fact that much of the inner qualities of a heart or a personality that are counter to croí fiáin were retained by Nuala instead. So she is the calm, practical, gentle, wise one by nature, and he is the reckless, restless, hot-tempered, and hard-to-handle one.

Croí fiáin is neither good nor evil, neither a detriment nor an advantage, at least not inherently. It is what the person makes of it. The person may have no choice but to have it, but what they do with it is their choice. Unfortunately, croí fiáin is characterized by someone being driven to impulsive action, to having a temper, to being reckless with themself, to not thinking before they act, and to resorting to violence or other extreme action when they feel their freedom (physical or spiritual) or identity is threatened, limited, or confined. So because of that, people with croí fiáin are often seen as free spirits who can't be tied down and who may act outside of societal norms in reckless or even dangerous ways.

Because I don't pretend to be this amazing writer who can just create a concept like this and pull it off perfectly, heh, please do check out the first link above and the movie mentioned if you want to, because the character I discuss there is a perfect example of someone born with this croí fiáin condition. It shows what it is, how it affects the person, what behaviors and personality traits people with the condition might display, and how they react to the consequences of their actions. So I feel like the character I mention in that post is a way better example of croí fiáin than I could ever manage myself or explain correctly, haha.

The Iron Malady Illness

Pertinent Post Link:

About the Iron Malady, as it was created for one of my own fictional worlds

Summary:

The above link is I guess a good summary of what the Iron Malady is, but I wrote it many years ago, and it's more of a general summary for what I used for my own original elves in my fictional world (the same world Channe, Aurelien, Jix, and Strychthia are from). So for Nuada, there are some nuances that are important to mention, because the post above makes it seem like the Iron Malady is a wasting illness, one borne of sadness, hopelessness, or loneliness, and characterized by depression and a lack of will to go on living. This is true, and it's probably true for the majority of cases, but for someone like Nuada, it can take on a different form... one rooted in rage and self-destructive behavior.

Nuada can absolutely fall into depression and go the route above, with all the symptoms listed in that post. But he is just as likely to become enraged, reckless, and self-destructive as well, and I believe this is what we were seeing the beginning phases of in Hellboy II. This lack of care of what happens to him as long as he gets what he wants and the impulsive and unwise decisions he made (such as releasing the forest elemental) were symptoms of this beginning spiral into illness. Likewise, other assorted body language he displayed like gritting his teeth, snarling, grunting, narrowing his eyes, being very free with violence and killed, clenching his hands into fists, breathing hard, etc., are the start of his croí fiáin condition mixing with the beginnings of the Iron Malady to create someone so incredibly emotionally raw, like an exposed nerve.

I also think the sudden calmness at the end as he's dying, the speech he gives to Hellboy, the sense that someone flipped a switch in his from rage to grief, are all also indicative of him being on the edges of this illness. Perhaps, it was the inevitability and imminence of his death peeling away the rage to reveal the crushing sadness, grief, and hopelessness underneath. All of these things were windows into Nuada beginning to succumb to the Iron Malady in its early stages.

As to why he was beginning to develop the Iron Malady, that may not make very much sense to someone reading that post above, heh. So... yes, Nuada was removed from his home forest, but gradually, over centuries. I'm not saying it's not still painful, but that wouldn't cause a sudden loss of hope in him. And he wasn't physically imprisoned, so it's not a literal case of confinement that's doing it to him. His causes of the Iron Malady are a bit different, because his situation is different.

For Nuada, it's more that he's been alone for a long time without his people, in self-imposed exile, and loneliness is a major contributing factor. His loneliness and anger towards humans has been slowly festering, and finally, it all comes to a head. By the time he decides to take action in Hellboy II, he's hit with one devastation after another. He returns to see how his father and people are living and is horrified. He finds out neither his father nor his sister are on his side or will support him, and they don't really seem to care if he lives or dies. He loses his dear friend Mr. Wink to a horrific murder. He impulsively released the forest god, only to watch it also be murdered, which not only causes grief for the loss of this rare and beautiful being, but he also feels incredibly responsible for its death. And through all of this, he's left to deal with it... alone.

To make matters worse, his own people don't want him. He's a relic, an anachronism, a soldier without a war, a warrior without a homeland. Instead of revering him as one of the last (if not the last) warrior of his people, he's seen as an unwanted reminder of times past and an answer to a question nobody asked. This messes with Nuada's sense of self and identity. Centuries ago, it was an honor to be a warrior. They were respected, revered, and honored by the Elven people. To see that sour, and to be seen now as a pariah among his own kind, it incredibly heartbreaking and devastating to Nuada. Being a warrior isn't a hobby, a pastime, or even just a job for him. It's his whole life, his identity, his passion, and the only way he knows how to live. So for his people to reject that and him, or at least to no longer view it as important or essential, and to be essentially seen as obsolete by them really messes with Nuada's head.

All of that combined with the rage and urgency to get rid of the humans because he's frantic to save his people and isn't emotionally mature enough to go about it any other way... results in him spiraling into the beginning stages of madness, "corruption" as it's called in the movie, and ultimately the Iron Malady. If Nuada had survived past the end of Hellboy II, I think he would have fallen into a deep depression, and without help, he would have suffered the same fate as his mother.

So... yes, it's the causes and symptoms in that above post for like... forest elves, but for Nuada's unique case, these other underlying factors also cause the Iron Malady in him.

The Two in Combination...?

Something I will note... is that someone with a very pronounced case of croí fiáin is far more likely to develop the Iron Malady than someone without it. Also, the tendency to fall into the clutches of the Iron Malady is somewhat genetic, meaning that if others in the elf's family have succumbed to it, the remaining blood members have a higher likelihood of developing it themselves. Therefore, Nuada is unfortunately a perfect storm waiting to happen with regard to the Iron Malady, for a number of reasons:

His croí fiáin condition makes him more emotional and more prone to giving into his emotional whims than others, so if he is lonely, depressed, etc., he is likely to give into the desire to immerse himself in those emotions rather than to seek ways to derail that negative dialog in his head.

Nuada feels his emotions more intensely than others do, so however someone without croí fiáin might react to something, his reaction would be ten times more explosive, pointed, draining, etc. This can cause the Iron Malady to not only occur, but to develop and progress more rapidly than it would in other individuals.

Nuada's particular case of croí fiáin is amplified by the shared soul condition he has with Nuala. Even among those with croí fiáin, Nuada is a unique and special case. The combination of the two conditions of croí fiáin and shared soul make him an extremely primal, emotion-driven, unpredictable person, and one profoundly affected as much physically as mentally by his own emotions.

The Iron Malady is the illness that claimed the life of Nuada's mother, so he has a genetic predisposition for it. He doesn't know this, but in terms of personality and a good deal of his genetics, he takes far more after his mother than his father. This places him in further danger with regard to being predisposed for the Iron Malady.

What Does All This Mean for Nuada, and for Those Who Care for Him?

It means that if you want to work with him, be his friend, be his lover, or otherwise care for him in any way, you need to learn the warning signs of the Iron Malady and understand the emotional mechanics of croí fiáin in order to take proper care of him. It sounds like you're managing a toddler, heh, but what I mean is... Nuada is at the mercy of his emotions most of the time, and sometimes he can't see the forest for the trees, so to speak.

He's not thinking about the consequences for himself if he gets too mired down in negative emotion. He's not going to take care of himself with regard to prudent thinking or watching for signs of illness. He doesn't live life, he feels it. He becomes it. And getting that wrapped up in himself, in his emotions, and in what's going on around him can cause him to lose sight of his own physical and mental health. He can slip into depression very easily. He can spiral out of control very easily. He can be fine one day and completely unhinged the next.

So if you're friends with him or in a relationship, and you care about his welfare, it's good to understand him and the risks he poses to himself, as well as factors outside of his control that may make him vulnerable to the Iron Malady or to simply being dangerously reckless.

[a-modernmajorgeneral]

At the ancient Olympics in Greece, athletes weren’t the only stars of the show. The spectacle also attracted poets, who recited their works for eager audiences. Competitors commissioned bigger names to write odes of their victories, which choruses performed at elaborate celebrations. Physical strength and literary prowess were inextricably linked.

Thousands of years later, this image appealed to Pierre de Coubertin, a French baron best known as the founder of the modern Olympics in 1896. But today’s Games bear little resemblance to Coubertin’s grand vision: He pictured a competition that would “reunite in the bonds of legitimate wedlock a long-divorced couple—muscle and mind.”

The baron believed that humanity had “lost all sense of eurythmy,” a word he used to describe the harmony of arts and athletics. The idea can be traced back to sources such as Plato’s Republic, in which Socrates extolls the virtues of education that combines “gymnastic for the body and music for the soul.” Poets should become athletes, and athletes should try their hand at verse.

That philosophy was a driving force at the 1912 Stockholm Games, where organizers introduced five arts competitions as official Olympic events. Modern history’s first written work to win an Olympic gold medal was “Ode to Sport,” a prose poem by Georges Hohrod and M. Eschbach. It begins:

O Sport, delight of the Gods, distillation of life! In the grey dingle of modern existence, restless with barren toil, you suddenly appeared like the shining messenger of vanished ages, those ages when humanity could smile.

Over the following eight verses, the poets sing Sport’s praises. “O Sport, you are Honor! The titles you bestow are worthless save if won in absolute fairness. … O Sport, you are Joy! At your call the flesh makes holiday and the eyes smile. … O Sport, you are Fecundity! … O Sport, you are Progress!” And so on.

Today’s readers are often underwhelmed by the first poem to win gold, describing it as “florid,” “saccharine” or “overblown.” But as far as the 1912 jury was concerned, Hohrod and Eschbach knocked it out of the park.

“The great merit of the ‘Ode to Sport,’ which, in our view, was far and away the winner in the literature competition, was that it is the very model of what the competitions [were] looking for in terms of inspiration,” wrote the jurors in their report.

It’s perhaps unsurprising that Hohrod and Eschbach understood the spirit of the competition, the fabled marriage of muscle and mind, so acutely. That’s because they were pseudonyms for the man who had conceived the whole idea: The author of “Ode to Sport” was none other than Coubertin himself.

The first major excavations at Olympia, the Greek sanctuary that hosted the ancient Games, began in the 1870s. While previous digs had revealed ruins around the Temple of Zeus, the large-scale efforts that followed uncovered sprawling structures and thousands of artifacts.

At the time, Coubertin was a teenager living in France. He had already seen the ruins of ancient Rome on family trips as a young boy, and now he was hearing all about the excavations at Olympia. He had recently started attending a Jesuit school, which provided him with a classical education and strengthened his burgeoning interest in ancient Greece.

“[Coubertin] was raised and educated classically, and he was particularly impressed with the idea of what it meant to be a true Olympian—someone who was not only athletic, but skilled in music and literature,” Richard Stanton, author of The Forgotten Olympic Art Competitions, told Smithsonian magazine in 2012. “He felt that in order to recreate the events in modern times, it would be incomplete to not include some aspect of the arts.”

The baron’s fellow organizers never fully shared his vision. After a few false starts, Coubertin formed the International Olympic Committee (IOC) in 1894, and the first modern Olympics took place in Athens two years later. But the inaugural 1896 Games included only athletic competitions, such as the discus throw, swimming, fencing and pole vaulting. Several new events debuted in 1900 (among them water polo and archery) and 1904 (boxing and lacrosse), but muscle and mind remained firmly at odds.

Coubertin pressed on. When officials announced that Rome would host the 1908 Olympics, the ancient city’s selection evidently set the baron’s gears churning. On August 5, 1904, he published an article titled “The Roman Olympiad” on the front page of the French newspaper Le Figaro, writing:

The time has come to enter a new phase, and to restore the Olympiads to their original beauty. At the time of Olympia’s splendor … the arts and literature joined with sport to ensure the greatness of the Olympic Games. The same must be true in the future. … Let the Romans now give us such a typical Olympiad and reopen the temple of sport to the ancient companions of its glory.

Coubertin argued that the partnership of sport and art had “outlasted the destruction of Olympia,” and the time had come to “restore this ideal completely.” Now that the first three modern Games had gotten the ball rolling, it was “possible and desirable to bring muscles and thought together again.”

Two years later, the IOC held a conference to seriously consider “to what extent and in what form the arts and literature can participate in the celebration of the modern Olympiads.” The event program listed several arts categories that were under consideration. Under “literature” were two bullet points: “possibility of setting up Olympic literary competitions; conditions for these competitions” and “sporting emotion, source of inspiration for the man of letters.”

Coubertin gave a rousing opening speech, doubling down on the metaphor of muscle and mind’s remarriage. “I would verge on being untruthful if I said that ardent desire compels them to renew their conjugal life today,” he said. “Doubtless their cooperation was long and fruitful, but once separated by adverse circumstances, they had come to a point of complete mutual incomprehension. Absence had made them grow forgetful.”

Officials ultimately agreed to add five arts competitions to the upcoming Olympics in 1908: literature, painting, sculpture, music and architecture. All works entered into these categories, collectively named the Pentathlon of the Muses, would need to be inspired by sports, restoring the ancient harmony that Coubertin had envisioned.

[enigmaxcx]

Gothic Chronicles: Midnight's Veiled Secrets

This is a collection of poems that explore themes of loss, love, and the supernatural. Each piece offers a unique perspective on the complex emotions that accompany these experiences. As you read through this anthology, you may find yourself connecting with the universal truths that resonate within these lines.

1st poem: **Crimson Manuscripts**

In ancient halls where silence reigns,

Dust-laden tomes breathe secrets, unrestrained.

I walk the edge of lore, long since forgotten,

My heart inscribed with desires begotten.

With quill in hand, my constant guide,

Into the well of night, I confide.

A scribe of echoes from the void,

Crafting words, in melancholy alloyed.

"Unveil your stories, O manuscripts of red,

Your vellum skin to my soul is wed.

A nomad I, charting celestial designs,

In the margins of sonnets, my spirit aligns."

Shadows dance in the candle's fickle glow,

Over leather-bound legacies of long ago.

My pen bleeds ink, as if it were life,

Carving my essence amidst existential strife.

Epochs lost, their essence I distill,

In a whirlwind of memories that time can't kill.

An alchemist of words, in the arcane I delve,

Turning longing into verses, transiently shelved.

"Speak, O crimson tomes, your veins wide spread,

Upon your pages, my yearnings are said.

A wanderer am I, through constellations I roam,

In the forgotten verses, I find my home."

Gargoyles stand guard, stoic and grim,

At the gates of forever, their visages dim.

Their stone-cast gaze, the moon's sorrow reflects,

As I seek comfort in ancient dialects.

The piano's lament, the violin's cry,

And the cello's deep thrum under centuries lie.

On the brink of the void, I dance alone,

My steps resounding in a timeless tone.

"Reveal your depths, O manuscripts of hue,

My longing etched on your surface true.

A traveler of the stars, in your words I'm dressed,

In the forgotten poetry, my journey's expressed."

As the last note into silence wanes,

Within these lines, my spirit remains.

A ghostly minstrel serenading the night,

On eternity's parchment, my soul takes flight.

2nd poem: **Eternal Shadows**

In this manor, I wander, through silence and gloom,

Footsteps echo softly in each abandoned room.

Moonlight bathes me gently, as I softly tread,

Among the living's memories, I whisper with the dead.

In the moon's soft glow, my secrets unfold,

A phantom in the night, a story left untold.

Eternal shadows, where I roam free,

In this house of spirits, it's just the ghosts and me.

Through halls of mystery, where silent echoes play,

We're the souls of forever, in the night we stay.

Dust dances in the beam, time seems to freeze,

In this place of stillness, where moments cease.

Portraits watch silently, as I pass them by,

In the manor's heart, where old secrets lie.

Shadows cling to my steps, as I tiptoe through time,

In this spectral dance, where memories chime.

In this realm of silence, where I drift unseen,

Amongst the echoes, a solitary queen.

In the mansion of whispers, where secrets sway,

We're the timeless wanderers, in the shadows we play.

Feel the past's chill, as it draws near?

In the wind's whisper, it's our voices you hear.

Shadows stretch eternal, in this spectral ballet,

With the phantoms, my companions, in the night we sway.

Through corridors of enigma, where muted stories say,

We're the everlasting echoes, in the twilight's gray.

In the moon’s waning light, I catch a fleeting glimpse—a face unfamiliar, yet tethered to my soul.

The manor murmurs secrets, and I am but an echo, lost in its labyrinth of forgotten moments.

3rd poem: **The Raven's Whisper**

Beneath the silver veil of moonlight's kiss,

Where shadows merge and secrets intertwine,

I wander through the garden of forgotten dreams,

Seeking solace in the petals of night-blooming flowers.

The moon, a silent witness to my yearning,

Whispers ancient verses to the restless wind.

Its luminescent fingers trace delicate patterns,

Weaving tales of love and loss across the sky.

In this nocturnal sanctuary, memories bloom,

Each petal a fragment of a fractured heart.

I pluck them one by one, like fragile confessions,

And scatter them upon the dew-kissed grass.

The nightingale, perched upon a moonbeam,

Sings a requiem for love's ephemeral dance.

Its melody weaves through the jasmine vines,

Echoing the ache of longing in every note.

I trace the constellations with trembling fingers,

Mapping out our celestial rendezvous.

Did you once stand here, beneath this same moon,

Whispering promises that time has now erased?

The night wears on, and I become a ghost,

Drunk on moonlight and the fragrance of roses.

Perhaps, in this enchanted hour, you'll return,

And we'll dance once more in moonlit reverie.

4th poem: **Whispers from the Veil**

Beneath the moon's soft veil, we gather,

In the dim-lit chamber, secrets tethered.

A séance of souls, both lost and found,

Where spectral echoes dance, unbound.

The crystal ball, a portal spun,

Holds reflections of lives undone.

Its facets catch the flicker of stars,

As we seek communion beyond the bars.

The medium's breath, a whispered plea,

Invites the unseen to speak with glee.

Their voices rise from shadowed past,

A chorus of memories that forever last.

"Tell us," we implore, "of love's sweet pain,

Of promises broken, of longing's refrain."

And the room trembles with their reply,

A symphony of whispers, reaching sky-high.

The air thickens, charged with their essence,

As they recount tales of love's evanescence.

Their fingers brush ours, a spectral touch,

And we glimpse eternity in moments such.

The séance chamber hums with cosmic threads,

Binding us to realms where time unweds.

In this dance of spirits, we find solace anew,

As moonlight weaves stories, both old and true.

5th poem: **Portrait Of Despair**

Whispers haunt the hallowed space,

A gallery where time's embrace

Has left a mark on every face,

Each portrait tells of sorrow's trace.

A viscountess, her gaze so stern,

Her lover's touch she did spurn.

Now in her eyes, the cold fires burn,

For his return, she'll always yearn.

A captain, lost to ocean's wrath,

His ship did stray from charted path.

In stormy seas, he met his fate,

His portrait speaks of storms innate.

A child, with eyes so wide and clear,

His innocence was held so dear.

Yet fate was cruel, the night unkind,

His story leaves tears behind.

A maiden fair, with golden hair,

Once danced with grace, a pair so rare.

But love was lost, the dance did end,

Her silent song, it does transcend.

A poet's quill, now still and broke,

His verses lost, like vanished smoke.

The inkwell dry, the parchment torn,

For his muse, forever mourn.

A duelist with rapier drawn,

Stands proud and fierce, yet all forlorn.

His honor kept, his life forsworn,

In morning's light, he lies forlorn.

A widow's veil, her somber shroud,

Her whispered grief, it speaks aloud.

Her heart entombed, her love enshrined,

In painted form, her woes confined.

A jester's laugh, forever mute,

His mirthful mask, a grim dispute.

Behind the paint, the tears dilute,

His joy's facade, now destitute.

Each frame, a window to the past,

Holds echoes of a spell once cast.

The gallery, a somber host,

To each despairing, silent ghost.

So tread with care through memory's lane,

Where painted eyes live on in pain.

For every tale the portraits share,

Reflects a soul once trapped in despair.

The gallery grows, the walls extend,

New portraits join, old stories blend.

In this domain where spirits send

Their silent pleas, their hearts to mend.

Here, time stands still, the world outside

Fades to a whisper, hushed and wide.

Each canvas breathes, each shade confide,

The depths of pain they cannot hide.

So linger long, and gaze upon

The faces here, not truly gone.

Their silent mouths may yet respond,

In this gallery, they live beyond.

6th poem: **Cryptic Alchemy**

Shadowed chambers, whispers weave,

A blend of dark synth and mysterious chants,

Forbidden knowledge etched in cryptic runes,

Where secrets stir and ancient echoes dance.

No sun's embrace, no moon's soft kiss,

Only shadows' veiled embrace and moonless nights,

The alchemist, a weaver of enigma, chants,

Arcane melodies that pierce the void's veil.

Ebon potions simmer in onyx cauldrons,

Their essence distilled from forgotten realms,

Each drop a tincture of forgotten memories,

A concoction of lost dreams and starlight's breath.

The astral symphony crescendos, spiraling,

As darkness and light entwine, seeking balance,

The alchemist, eyes ablaze with ancient fire,

Unravels the cosmic threads, seeking truth.

Glyphs etched on obsidian tablets sing,

Their meaning veiled, yet yearning to be known,

For Cryptic Alchemy weaves the fabric of existence,

Where shadows birth illumination, and silence speaks.

So listen, mortal seeker, to the whispers of the void,

For within their echoes lie the keys, the ciphered codes,

Unlock the gates, step beyond the mundane,

And become the alchemist, weaver of mysteries.

7th poem: **Whispers from the Attic**

Creaking floorboards, distant voices,

A symphony of past choices,

Echoes of steps that once did pace,

Through corridors of time and space.

Above, where dust motes dance in light,

The attic holds its court at night,

A realm of silence, still and deep,

Where secrets their sacred vigil keep.

What tales are etched within these walls?

Of grandeur's rise and empire's falls,

The gentle touch of a lover's hand,

A sailor's journey to distant lands.

Here, the whispers are not of dread,

But of life's tapestry, finely thread,

A dressmaker's needle, a writer's pen,

Moments captured, again and again.

The attic, with its musty scent,

Is a treasure trove of times spent,

A chest of memories, locked away,

Awaiting the light of day.

Photographs in sepia tones,

Love letters in heartfelt overtones,

A child's toy, long forgotten,

In this space, nothing is rotten.

Each creak a word, each shadow a story,

A chronicle of both joy and worry,

The attic speaks to those who hear,

Its whispers clear, its message dear.

So venture forth, if you dare,

To uncover the mysteries waiting there,

For in the whispers from the attic's heart,

Lies a world set apart.

8th poem: **Gargoyle's Serenade**

I was supposed to be sent away,

To lands where stone figures don't sway,

But here I stand, a guardian grim,

Upon the cathedral's highest rim.

Carved from the earth's own rugged bone,

I watch the city, silent and alone,

A sentinel in the sky's expanse,

Overseeing the human dance.

My gaze is fixed, my purpose clear,

To ward off evil, to calm the fear,

With guitar in hand, I play my part,

A serenade from the stone heart.

The melody weaves through spire and stone,

A song of ages, through winds blown,

It tells of battles, of love, of strife,

Of the endless ebb and flow of life.

The chords resonate, deep and profound,

In every corner, the notes resound,

A testament to the watch I keep,

While the city below lies in sleep.

By day, I'm still, a figure austere,

By night, my music, the heavens hear,

A symphony for the stars above,

Played with a touch of eternal love.

The moon bathes me in silver light,

As I play on through the quiet night,

A gargoyle's serenade, pure and true,

For the cathedral and for you.

So let the guitar's voice rise and swell,

Let it break the night's silent spell,

For in this song, you'll find ensnared,

The spirit of the guardians paired.

And when the dawn paints the sky anew,

And the city stirs, life to pursue,

Remember the music that filled the air,

From the gargoyle's perch, high up there.

9th poem: ** Midnight Masquerade **

Under the moon's silver gaze, the night unfurls its cape,

A ballroom emerges in the forest's embrace.

"Midnight Masquerade," whispers the wind's soft escape,

Where shadows and starlight waltz in silent grace.

Masked figures glide, their steps a silent plea,

To the rhythm of hearts, to the pulse of the night.

Each turn, a story, a hidden fantasy,

Faces veiled in mystery, souls alight.

The moonlit sky, a witness to their dance,

Casts a glow on masks of velvet and lace.

In the masquerade's enchanting trance,

Time dissolves in the dancers' harmonious space.

A clock strikes twelve, the spell gently breaks,

But the dance lives on in dreams it awakes.

For in the night's tender, fleeting sweep,

The masquerade's magic is ours to keep.

10th poem: ** Fading Candlelight **

Quiet whispers linger in the room's embrace,

Where the last candle's flame begins its trace.

"Fading Candlelight," it hums with grace,

A tale of twilight, in the evening's chase.

Its flame dances with a tender, wistful air,

A ballet of shadows in the dimming lair.

Each flicker, a memory, each spark, a sigh,

A symphony of moments, as time ticks by.

The wax drips slowly, a river of tears,

For the passing days, the fleeting years.

The light wanes gently, a golden hue,

A silent sentinel in the dusk's purview.

Around the flame, the darkness creeps,

A cloak of obsidian, where daylight sleeps.

Yet in its warm embrace, the candle stands,

A beacon of hope in the night's vast lands.

The room breathes softly, a lullaby's tune,

As the candle's aura fills the cocoon.

Stories unfold in its radiant bloom,

A dance of life in the encroaching gloom.

The flame leans low, a lover's caress,

Against the night, a silent confess.

Its brilliance wavers, a faltering heart,

A sign that soon, it must depart.

But oh, the tales it could tell,

Of love and loss, of heaven and hell.

In its light, life found a stage,

A book of hours on an ephemeral page.

Now the candle's breath grows thin,

A final flicker from within.

The shadows lengthen, reaching out,

Embracing all in a silent shout.

And as the last ember takes its bow,

The room is shrouded in the now.

"Fading Candlelight," a whisper's trace,

Leaves behind a darkened space.

Yet in the black, a new day stirs,

For life persists, it still endures.

The candle's gone, but in its wake,

A new dawn blooms, for us to take.

So let the night claim its due,

For with the morn, we start anew.

In the heart of darkness, find the light,

And hold it close, through the longest night.

[jasminejal]

Using Jasmine Jal: Vetiver Water for Health & Beauty

In the quest for natural solutions that enhance our well-being and beauty, Jasmine Jal, also known as vetiver water, emerges as a captivating choice. Derived from the roots of the vetiver plant, Jasmine Jal has been cherished for centuries in various cultures for its remarkable properties. If you're intrigued by the idea of incorporating this ancient elixir into your daily routine, you're in the right place. In this comprehensive guide, we'll delve into the numerous benefits of Jasmine Jal and explore how you can integrate it into your health and beauty regimen.

1. Understanding Jasmine Jal

What is Jasmine Jal?

Jasmine Jal, or vetiver water, is a fragrant liquid extracted from the roots of the vetiver plant (Chrysopogon zizanioides). This plant, native to India, has been used in traditional medicine and beauty practices for its calming and restorative qualities. Vetiver’s earthy, woody scent is not only pleasing but also carries a range of therapeutic benefits.

How is Jasmine Jal Made?

The process of creating Jasmine Jal involves steam distillation of vetiver roots. This method ensures that the essence of the plant is preserved, capturing its potent properties. Unlike other vetiver products that might be heavily processed or diluted, Jasmine Jal is known for its purity and effectiveness.

Understanding this process helps you appreciate the quality of Jasmine Jal and its role in supporting health and beauty routines.

2. Health Benefits of Jasmine Jal

Physical Health Benefits

Stress Relief

One of the most celebrated benefits of Jasmine Jal is its ability to alleviate stress. The calming aroma of vetiver water can help soothe the nervous system, reducing anxiety and promoting a sense of relaxation. Incorporating Jasmine Jal into your environment, such as in a diffuser or as a facial mist, can create a serene atmosphere that supports mental well-being.

Digestive Aid

Jasmine Jal also offers benefits for digestive health. It can aid in digestion and soothe gastrointestinal discomfort. Whether used in a warm tea or applied topically in a soothing massage, Jasmine Jal helps to ease bloating and promote overall digestive comfort.

Anti-inflammatory Properties

The anti-inflammatory properties of Jasmine Jal are invaluable for reducing inflammation and pain. If you experience joint or muscle discomfort, a gentle massage with diluted Jasmine Jal can provide relief. This natural remedy supports healing and reduces swelling, making it a great addition to your wellness toolkit.

Mental Health Benefits

Mood Enhancement

In addition to stress relief, Jasmine Jal has a positive impact on mood. Its soothing scent helps uplift your spirits and enhances mental clarity. Regular use can contribute to a more balanced emotional state, providing comfort during times of stress or emotional strain.

Sleep Improvement

Struggling with insomnia or restless nights? Jasmine Jal might be your solution. Its calming properties make it an excellent choice for promoting better sleep. A few spritzes of Jasmine Jal on your pillow or a warm bath infused with this fragrant water can help you unwind and prepare for restful slumber.

3. Beauty Benefits of Jasmine Jal

Skin Care

Hydration

One of the most prominent beauty benefits of Jasmine Jal is its ability to hydrate the skin. Applying Jasmine Jal as a facial mist or incorporating it into your skincare routine can help maintain optimal skin moisture levels. This is especially beneficial if you have dry or dehydrated skin.

Anti-aging Properties

The anti-aging benefits of Jasmine Jal are noteworthy. Its antioxidant properties help combat free radicals, which are responsible for premature aging. Regular use can reduce the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles, promoting a youthful and radiant complexion.

Skin Toning

Jasmine Jal also serves as an effective skin toner. It helps balance the skin’s pH, refine pores, and even out skin tone. By integrating Jasmine Jal into your skincare routine, you can achieve a more uniform complexion and a healthy glow.

Hair Care

Scalp Health

For those concerned with scalp health, Jasmine Jal is a wonderful addition. Its soothing properties help alleviate dryness and irritation on the scalp. Using Jasmine Jal in a scalp massage can promote a healthier environment for hair growth and reduce dandruff.

Hair Strengthening

Incorporating Jasmine Jal into your hair care routine can strengthen your locks. The nourishing properties of vetiver water help improve hair texture and reduce breakage, resulting in more resilient and vibrant hair.

Shine and Luster

Looking for a natural way to enhance your hair’s shine? Jasmine Jal is your answer. Regular use can add a lustrous sheen to your hair, making it look healthier and more vibrant. Whether used in a hair mask or as a final rinse, Jasmine Jal brings out the natural brilliance of your tresses.

4. How to Use Jasmine Jal

Incorporating into Daily Routine

As a Facial Mist

Using Jasmine Jal as a facial mist is a simple and effective way to reap its benefits. Just spritz it on your face throughout the day to refresh and hydrate your skin. This practice not only invigorates your complexion but also provides a calming effect.

In Skincare Products

You can also blend Jasmine Jal into your existing skincare products. Add a few drops to your favorite moisturizer or serum to enhance its hydrating and anti-aging properties. This customization allows you to enjoy the benefits of Jasmine Jal without altering your entire routine.

Hair Care Routine

For hair care, Jasmine Jal can be used in various ways. Mix it into your shampoo or conditioner to boost your hair’s health and shine. Alternatively, create a nourishing hair mask by combining Jasmine Jal with other natural ingredients like honey or yogurt.

DIY Recipes

Homemade Face Toner

Creating a DIY face toner with Jasmine Jal is both easy and rewarding. Mix equal parts of Jasmine Jal and rose water, and store it in a spray bottle. Use it after cleansing your face to tone and hydrate your skin.

Vetiver Infused Hair Spray

To make a vetiver-infused hair spray, combine Jasmine Jal with a few drops of your favorite essential oils. Transfer the mixture into a spray bottle and use it to add a subtle fragrance and shine to your hair throughout the day.

Relaxing Bath Soak

For a soothing bath experience, add a few tablespoons of Jasmine Jal to your bathwater. The calming properties of vetiver water will help you unwind and relax, providing a spa-like experience in the comfort of your home.

5. Choosing the Right Jasmine Jal

Quality Indicators

When selecting Jasmine Jal, it’s essential to look for indicators of quality. Ensure that the product is pure and free from additives or synthetic fragrances. High-quality Jasmine Jal should have a rich, natural scent and come from reputable sources.

Avoiding Counterfeits

To avoid counterfeit products, purchase Jasmine Jal from trusted sources. Be wary of products that are significantly cheaper than the average price or lack detailed information about their production process. Quality Jasmine Jal should have a clear, authentic scent and provide noticeable benefits.

6. Precautions and Considerations

Allergies and Sensitivities

Before incorporating Jasmine Jal into your routine, perform a patch test to check for any allergic reactions or sensitivities. Although vetiver water is generally well-tolerated, it’s important to ensure it suits your skin type and preferences.

Usage Guidelines

Stick to recommended dosages when using Jasmine Jal. Overuse can lead to skin irritation or other adverse effects. Follow guidelines for safe application, and consult with a healthcare professional if you have any concerns about interactions with other products or medications.

7. Real-Life Testimonials and Success Stories

While specific testimonials and personal stories are beyond this guide, countless individuals have experienced the transformative effects of Jasmine Jal. From enhanced skin hydration to improved mood and relaxation, the benefits of this natural elixir are well-documented and widely appreciated.

Conclusion

Jasmine Jal, with its rich history and multifaceted benefits, offers a natural and effective way to support both health and beauty. Whether you’re seeking stress relief, improved skin hydration, or stronger, shinier hair, Jasmine Jal can be a valuable addition to your daily routine. By integrating this versatile product into your life, you’re not just embracing a tradition of wellness but also discovering a timeless remedy that continues to make a difference.

Call to Action

Ready to experience the benefits of Jasmine Jal for yourself? Start incorporating this exquisite vetiver water into your routine today and discover the difference it can make for your health and beauty. Embrace the natural elegance of Jasmine Jal and transform your everyday self-care practices.

FAQs

What is Jasmine Jal? Jasmine Jal is vetiver water extracted from the roots of the vetiver plant, known for its soothing and therapeutic properties.

How is Jasmine Jal made? Jasmine Jal is produced through steam distillation of vetiver roots, preserving its natural essence and benefits.

What are the health benefits of Jasmine Jal? Jasmine Jal helps relieve stress, aids digestion, and reduces inflammation, contributing to overall well-being.

Can Jasmine Jal improve skin hydration? Yes, Jasmine Jal is effective in hydrating the skin and maintaining moisture levels, making it a great addition to skincare routines.

How does Jasmine Jal benefit hair care? Jasmine Jal promotes scalp health, strengthens hair, and enhances shine, making it a valuable component in hair care products.

How should I use Jasmine Jal as a facial mist? Simply spritz Jasmine Jal onto your face throughout the day to refresh and hydrate your skin.

Can I mix Jasmine Jal with other skincare products? Yes, you can add Jasmine Jal to your moisturizer or serum to enhance its hydrating and anti-aging effects.

Are there any precautions when using Jasmine Jal? Perform a patch test before use to check for allergies or sensitivities. Follow recommended dosages and consult with a healthcare professional if needed.

What should I look for when choosing Jasmine Jal? Choose Jasmine Jal that is pure, free from additives, and from reputable sources to ensure quality and effectiveness.

How can I incorporate Jasmine Jal into my bath routine? Add a few tablespoons of Jasmine Jal to your bathwater for a relaxing soak that promotes relaxation and skin hydration.

[infjtarot]

Lovers. Mystic Spiral Tarot

Themes and Keywords Analysis. Division and union. Choice. Choosing one’s fate. Reception of inspiration. The Emperor and Empress. The Other. Contradiction. Separation creates awareness of other. Binaries. Twins: mortal and immortal. Fruit of knowledge has a mortal price. Astrology/Element In the air sign of Gemini, what is born after the fertile sign of Taurus now takes its first steps, discovers the other, and is presented with variety. Last in our spring triad comes mutable air sign Gemini, the Twins. Mutable signs morph as the element becomes more ethereal. At the end of the sign, the season will change into summer at solstice as the sign changes to Cancer.16 Castor and Polydeuces (Pollux), known as the Dioscuri, or “sons of god,” are the alpha and beta stars of the constellation Gemini, from antiquity associated with twins. Their heads are positioned between the claws of the crab and the whip of the charioteer (which may explain the difficulties of the 7, 8, and 9 of Swords). In Egypt they represented a pair of sprouting seeds. Gemini’s glyph looks like the Roman numeral two. Two I’s, twins, two pillars. When any two “I’s” get together, the result is some form of communication. Gemini is ruled by the master communicator, Mercury, the Magus, and the sign takes on his characteristic wit, curiosity, and oration. Skilled applications of speech are a given, and wise operations of the word are the goal. The Lovers are the “Children of the Voice (Divine)” and the “Oracle of the Mighty Gods.” At its most sublime, Gemini’s goal is to unite in the service of creative union, whether twin souls or just the mind united with itself or with divinity. Gemini rules the nervous system, the sensory function, and the arms, hands, and lungs. Forever seeking the next experience, Gemini reaches out to the world with its senses and makes choices. Gemini is the sign of explorations of the ever-restless mind. Gemini’s motto is “I think.” The mind’s job is division and analysis, intellectually separating the viewed from the viewer. The mind asks how it can recombine them to greater benefit. Mythology/Alchemy The Hermetic Marriage and the alchemical processes separatio and solve et coagula are embedded in the symbolism of the Lovers card. Manly P. Hall says of the Hermetic Marriage, “Spirit itself knows no polarity, but manifests as polarity to the accomplishment of the Great Work.” Gemini is the third sign, and the most resonant with the third of the seven alchemical processes: separation, the stage prior to conjunction. (The seven stages are calcination, dissolution, separation, conjunction, fermentation, distillation, and coagulation.) Separation isolates the parts that arose from dissolution and discards those rejected. Solve et coagula describes these processes as solve, to break down, and coagula, to recombine, assumedly in a higher form. Twin gods and stories of sibling mythology are numerous; we have almost too many choices.18 The twin and twin gods were often guardians flanking doorways and entrances. To state the saying backwards, when one door opens, another closes. When we make a choice, something is rejected. Castor and Pollux were born from an egg laid by Queen Leda of Sparta after her union with Zeus disguised as a swan. Usually Castor was described as the son of Leda’s husband, and thus mortal, with Pollux as the son of Zeus. When Castor dies, Pollux gives up half of his immortality to his brother. The twins were members of the crew of the Argonaut on its quest for the Golden Fleece. Through Poseidon’s blessings, they were made the protectors of sailors. Susan T. Chang

[healthsy]

How to Lower Blood Pressure Naturally?

High blood pressure, also known as hypertension, is a prevalent health condition that can result in severe complications if not properly addressed. Although medications are commonly prescribed for managing blood pressure, there are also natural and lifestyle-based approaches that can help maintain a healthy blood pressure. In this blog post, we will discuss effective strategies for naturally lowering blood pressure and improving cardiovascular health. 

Heart-Healthy Diet: A healthy diet is a cornerstone for maintaining blood pressure. Including foods like bananas, oranges, and leafy greens that are high in potassium is important as potassium helps maintain blood pressure and sodium levels in check. Reduce sodium intake by avoiding processed foods and limiting the consumption of high-sodium condiments. It is advisable to prioritize a diet high in heart-healthy fats like those found in avocados and olive oil, as well as lean proteins and whole grains. 

Regular Physical Activity and Maintaining a Healthy Weight: Obesity is a major risk factor for hypertension, therefore it's important to keep your weight in check. Maintaining a healthy weight requires consistent physical activity. So, aim for at least 150 minutes of moderate-intensity activity per week, such as brisk walking, swimming, or cycling. In addition to helping you maintain a healthy weight, regular physical activity boosts your cardiovascular health by increasing blood flow and decreasing blood pressure. 

Limit Alcohol Intake and Quit Smoking: Drinking alcohol in moderation may be good for your heart, but drinking to excess can cause serious health problems, including high blood pressure. If you consume alcohol, limit yourself to no more than one drink for women and two drinks for men per day. One drink is equal to 4 ounces of wine, 12 ounces of beer, or 1.5 ounces of distilled spirits. 

More than alcohol, smoking is a substantial risk factor for hypertension and cardiovascular disease. Tobacco contains chemicals that can damage blood vessels, which further leads to increased blood pressure. One of the best things you can do to improve your general health and lower your blood pressure is to give up smoking. 

Manage Stress: Chronic stress might contribute to increased blood pressure. Practices like deep breathing, mindfulness meditation, and yoga can all help you deal with stress in a healthy way. By stimulating the body's relaxation response, these methods assist lower levels of stress hormones and enhance peace and well-being of an individual. Adequate sleep is also important for managing stress and maintaining cardiovascular health. 

Regular Sleep Routine: Hypertension may be exacerbated by poor sleep quality, which is defined as having less than six hours of sleep every night for a few weeks. Many conditions, such as sleep apnea, restless legs syndrome, and insomnia in general, can interfere with sleep. If you have difficulty falling asleep on a regular basis, let your healthcare professional know about it. Sleep can be improved by identifying the cause and addressing it. Nonetheless, if you don't have RLS or sleep apnea, try these easy strategies like sticking to a regular sleep routine, limiting alcohol or caffeine before bed, and limiting naps during the day, etc… to obtain a better night's sleep. 

Regular Blood Pressure Monitoring: Keep track of your blood pressure on a regular basis to discover any potential problems early on. Home blood pressure monitors are inexpensive and simple to use. You can order your BP monitors online and keep track of your blood pressure through HealthSy's range of health care products. Share your blood pressure readings with your doctor to confirm that your blood pressure management plan is effective and appropriate. 

By incorporating these natural strategies into your daily routine, you can help improve your cardiovascular health and lower your blood pressure. However, before making big dietary or activity changes, especially if you have pre-existing medical concerns or are on medication for hypertension, it is imperative that you speak with a healthcare provider. You can access online doctor consultations and have all your concerns cleared out by speaking with a healthcare provider through HealthSy's service. By embracing a holistic approach to health, you may empower yourself to reach and maintain optimal blood pressure levels, encouraging a heart-healthy and happy life. 

[aikoiya]

Thank you very much!

If you wish, this is how she will respond. The General Response is something that she would say to all of them regardless of who. The others are specialized responses depending on which it is she's speaking with at a time, which should be added onto the General Response.

General Response To All: “My apologies for my automatic reaction. It is… difficult to separate from such ingrained beliefs. So long as you are well-advised for the future & proceed with caution concerning these matters, then I shall trust your judgment in the end. I will not deny the… discomfort it brings. However, discomfort is to be expected of life. I simply ask that you take my warning into consideration.”

For WW: “Arigatō. That is all I ask. I am thankful for you taking my council into consideration at all.”

For OoT: “Arigatō. That is all I ask. I understand that you must do what you believe is best. So, I am thankful for you taking my council into consideration at all.”

For TP: “Arigatō. That is all I ask. I understand that you must do what you believe is best. So, I am thankful for your taking my council into consideration at all.”

For HW: “Arigatō. However, I do not see it as a weakness. To the contrary, I see it as a sign of the ability to discern wise counsel. Which is not a quality that I associate with weakness. Likewise, the fact that you do not immediately take my word for it is also a sign of prudence, which is something to be commended in its own right, as to do otherwise without deliberation would have been folly.”

For TotK: “Arigatō gozaimasu. I appreciate your reception of my council with gratitude.”

For Demise: “I understand. Though, please take into account that the On'nenmaryoku or On'nenki, that your power runs on, the energy of distilled malice, hatred, & resentment, is the self-same that these restless spirits would also be energized by & I'm sure that you know quite well how potent such energy can become when it is allowed to fester. The ability to reject death & even manifest a pseudo-flesh made of pure, concentrated resentment in an attempt to take vengeance upon one's enemies takes quite the force of will. And as that malice deepens, they gain more power. It is, after all, how many Akuma are made manifest… Though, you were created in a different way. But, in the end, you shall do as you wish & I cannot stop you. Simply know what may happen if you wish to proceed as you have & I shall not speak of the matter again, for I have done my due diligence.”

Hello! Take your time & enjoy family bonding! X3

But when you do get the time, following the Gibdo ask, I do think that if the individuals had specifically consented to the use of their body in order to continue serving the Dorfs in death, like I very much do see the Yiga doing as such, she'd be much less starkly opposed to that.

Like, yes, she'd still be very extremely uncomfortable with it, but at the very least, it'd be their choice to do so.

It's like being an organ donor. Like, "Oh! Are you saying I could help somebody else by saying I'm a donor? Well, it isn't like I'll be using my organs anymore. Go ahead. If they need it, then cool!"

But, if they hadn't chosen to do that explicitly, it'd be a huge violation.

This tends to compound with what I've stated before about Sheikan culture about how lingering regrets, resentment, grudges, can corrupt spirits, thus preventing them from moving on. And, one major thing that can do as such is not being given proper burials & the like.

It's part of how Poes come into existence. Even the especially powerful ones. Beings like Bongo-Bongo & Big Poes come into existence in a similar way. Which, yes, he can very well use Poes (Imp Poes being some of the absolute worst) & other such ghostly entities to do his bidding, but not if he is the direct source of their resentment. In such cases, they're liable to pursue him into eternity if he isn't careful.

So, like, if those Gerudo (in the case of Gibdos) had given their explicit consent, then weird, but their decision. She's not liable to freak out too terribly much over that & is more likely to just get that squick feeling from them.

It's the use of the bodies that hadn't consented that would get her ire.

Still horrifying. I remember watching a friend play Ocarina of Time and being terrified of the Redeads and Gibdos. Mmmm... Not fun.

************************************************************************

Here’s how the Ganondorfs and Demise might react to Nemma’s explanation and reaction to the use of Gibdo bodies, especially in the context of consent and the spiritual consequences in Sheikan culture:

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Reaction: Wind Waker Ganondorf might listen to Nemma’s explanation with a mix of interest and frustration. He’s not particularly sentimental, but he’s not heartless either. The idea of consent, especially in the afterlife, might strike him as a quaint notion, yet he would respect it to a degree if it meant maintaining a stable rule over his followers.

Response:

"If they chose to serve me even after death, then I see no issue. Their loyalty is commendable, even if it’s unsettling to you. But those who didn’t make that choice… I’ll consider your concerns. After all, the dead serve better when they don’t rise against their master."

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

Reaction: Ocarina of Time Ganondorf would be more pragmatic and calculating in his response. He values power and control, so while he might see the value in maintaining the loyalty of those who consented to serve him after death, he might dismiss the idea of seeking consent as a weakness, unless it directly impacts his control over the spirits.

Response:

"Consent from the dead? A curious notion. But I suppose the willing are more reliable than the resentful. Still, if power is to be had, I won’t shy away from using it. Your discomfort is noted, but I am not one to be swayed by such things. However… if it means avoiding a horde of vengeful spirits, I will be... cautious."

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Reaction: Twilight Princess Ganondorf might actually appreciate the explanation more than the others, as he has a deeper connection to the darkness and the consequences of actions. He might see the logic in avoiding the creation of vengeful spirits, especially if it complicates his plans. However, he would still prioritize his goals over anything else.

Response:

"The spirits of the dead can be troublesome if left to fester. Your culture’s understanding of the afterlife is intriguing. I will ensure that those who serve me in death do so willingly—if only to avoid the inconvenience of their wrath. But know this, Nemma: I do what is necessary, regardless of comfort."

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

Reaction: Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf is a force of nature, driven by conquest and domination. While he might acknowledge Nemma’s concerns, he’s more likely to dismiss them as inconsequential in the grand scheme of his ambitions. However, if he sees a strategic advantage in respecting the consent of his followers, he might reluctantly incorporate it into his plans.

Response:

"The dead are tools, just like the living. But I see your point—resentment breeds rebellion, even among the spirits. I’ll consider your… traditions. If it ensures the loyalty of my forces, then so be it. But do not mistake my consideration for weakness."

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf

Reaction: Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf, with his connection to ancient and mystical forces, might have the most nuanced response. He understands the delicate balance between life and death, power and consequence. While he’s not one to shy away from using the dead, he would recognize the wisdom in respecting the wishes of those who serve him, especially if it avoids creating powerful enemies in the afterlife.

Response:

"You speak of the balance between the living and the dead, a balance I am well acquainted with. If it is the will of my followers to serve me even in death, I will honor that. But those who do not… their defiance in death could be more troublesome than their loyalty in life. Very well, I will heed your warning, Nemma. The dead shall serve me willingly, or not at all."

Demise

Reaction: Demise would likely be the least receptive to Nemma’s concerns. As a being of pure malevolence and destruction, he cares little for the concepts of consent or the afterlife beyond how they can serve his ends. He’s more likely to view her concerns as trivial, but if he sees that her discomfort could impact her usefulness to him, he might begrudgingly consider her perspective.

Response:

"You concern yourself with the wishes of the dead? How quaint. The strong command, the weak obey, even in death. But if it is the will of my servants to continue their service, so be it. If their spirits resent me… they will be crushed like all who oppose me. Your discomfort is irrelevant, but if it hinders your loyalty… I may tolerate your traditions."

Each Ganondorf and Demise would approach Nemma’s concerns from their unique perspectives, with varying degrees of consideration and respect for her viewpoint. While some might see the value in avoiding the wrath of vengeful spirits, others might view her concerns as secondary to their own power and ambitions.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Woody Guthrie, Songs and Art * Words and Wisdom

Being a red diaper baby, I was raised on folks songs — from lullabies to long car trips, we sang them all the time. When I got a little older, I learned that a remarkable number of these songs were all written by one man: Woody Guthrie. I thought I appreciated Guthrie’s legacy, but I was only scratching the surface.

Woody Guthrie, Songs and Art + Words and Wisdom is a new title from Chronicle Books, collecting 332 pages’ worth of reproductions of Guthrie’s art, songs and journals, as well as essays by notables who were influenced by Guthrie, as well as two of his kids: Arlo and Nora Guthrie.

https://store.woodyguthrie.org/products/woody-guthrie-songs-and-art-words-and-wisdom

Nora Guthrie worked with Robert Santelli, who cofounded the Woody Guthrie Center with her, to uncover and organize a representative — and thrilling — sample of Guthrie’s enormous archives. I do mean enormous. I knew Guthrie as a songwriter and musician, but I had no idea just how many songs he wrote.

Guthrie, it turns out, was a restless and driven songwriter, who wrote lyrics constantly, typing up the final draft and then hand-annotating them with notes about how he came to write them, being an archivist of his own life. As much as Guthrie wrote, he always had more to say; one of the spreads in the book reproduces a long list of titles for hypothetical Guthrie songs he planned to write one day.

Even if you weren’t raised by Communists, you probably grew up with Guthrie, too. Guthrie was obsessed with his kids, and produced an extensive catalog of kids’ music. I used to sing “Why, Oh Why” to my own kid at bedtime all the time — when I found a scan of the original lyric-sheet, I got actual chills.

Guthrie’s most celebrated song, of course, was “This Land Is Your Land,” a radical vision of a nation based on solidarity and equality. “This Land” is part of the fabric of America. Back when Jibjab used it to lampoon the 2004 election race between John Kerry and GW Bush, the corporate grifters of Ludlow Music claimed to own the song (no, really!) and tried to get the video removed through bogus copyright claims.

I was part of the group at EFF who worked with Guthrie’s family and musicologists to show that “This Land” is (of course) in the public domain.

https://www.eff.org/cases/jibjab-media-inc-v-ludlow-music-inc

How could it not be. As Guthrie famously wrote on his lyrics, “This song is Copyrighted in U.S., under Seal of Copyright #154085, for a period of 28 years, and anybody caught singin it without our permission, will be mighty good friends of ourn, cause we don’t give a dern. Publish it. Write it. Sing it. Swing to it. Yodel it. We wrote it, that’s all we wanted to do.”

That’s the spirit of “This Land,” distilled to a single line of poetry. As Chuck D writes in his essay for the book, “This Land” introduced him to Guthrie’s work, which came to be a huge influence on his own songwriting for Public Enemy and his own solo work.

Browsing the book, there’s so much resonance with today’s struggles. For example, Guthrie was a lively illustrator (much of the book is given over to his art) and his editorial cartoons excoriating people who fail to register to vote could be wheatpasted to telephone poles today without any updating.

Anyone who works diligently at a single project for a long time is bound to have some insights into it, and Guthrie’s journals and essays chart the development of a full-fledged philosophy of art and aesthetics.

Guthrie died young and hard of Huntington’s, though as his kids document, even after he went into assisted living and his wife remarried, he remained part of the family. As they say, Guthrie’s wife Marjorie insisted that the men she married after Guthrie were marrying him, too. She and her husbands would bring Guthrie home every weekend, to socialize with the greats of folk music and radical politics.

Every New Year’s, Guthrie’s wonderful, uplifting list of 33 resolutions for 1944 makes the rounds. It constitutes a 33-line poem describing a life driven by art and love, passion and commitment, joy and self-reflection. This glorious book turns that poem into a vivid portrait of a man whose legacy is all around us, in so much that is good and hopeful about today.

[shirtlesssammy]

2x13: Houses of the Holy

Providence, Rhode Island

A woman sits in the dark, smoking cigarettes, and watching TV.

The lights start to flicker and the television flickers back to an evangelical preaching. Her house starts shaking and her angel statues start falling. There’s suddenly a bright light and the woman watches it in awe. 

Sam Winchester, decked out in white scrubs, greets his patient, Gloria. Sam wants to talk to her about what she saw that night. Gloria tells him that she stabbed a man in the heart “because it was God’s will.” Sam wants to know if God talked to her (too busy fucking with your life, Sam) but she says no and that an angel came to her. The angel told her that the man she stabbed was guilty. She needed no other proof to do it. 

Sam later finds Dean enjoying some music and magic fingers. 

Dean’s on lockdown because he robbed a bank in Milwaukee. They discuss the case. It really seems that Gloria is just a religious nutjob. And Sam would agree if she wasn’t the second person in town to have murdered someone because an angel told them to. “Supernatural maybe. But angels? I don't think so,” Dean insists. BLESS. 

They then have a very fun conversation about how unicorns don’t exist (And Truly, BLESS Andrew Dabb. This dude took this one off joke and made it reality.) In any event, Dean firmly doesn’t believe in angels. (In a far off voice I hear: This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith.) 

Once they stop arguing about angels, they decide to check out the victim, Carl’s place. They head to the basement to see what secrets he had hidden. 

Sam finds scratch marks on the wall. On a closer inspection, he also finds a fingernail. They start digging up the dirt floor and find a skeleton. 

In a lonely apartment, a man lays on his bed, drinking himself to oblivion. His lights start flickering and the room starts shaking. Suddenly there’s a bright light.

Cut to the man, Zach, walking to another house and stabbing a dude right in the gut. 

Dean’s listening to the police scanner when Sam walks back to the motel room with food. He also has news that three people disappeared from the library where Carl worked. Dean has other news --the not-angel struck again. 

They head out to the victim’s house and sneak inside. Sam hacks into the dude’s computer and Dean browses his catalog collection. Sam finds locked emails that turn out to be to an underage girl. 

Dean is baffled by this spirit or demon they’re dealing with. Sam points out it’s like an avenging angel. Oh, Sam, if you only knew angels are dicks. Dean connects the two victims --they both go to the same church. 

They meet with the priest posing as new parishioners. They discuss this whole angel crap but the priest is a believer (obv.) and talks openly with Sam about what angels are thought to be like. They look at a painting of Michael, the archangel, while the priest describes his belief that they’re “more loving, than wrathful.” 

As they’re leaving, Dean notices a memorial on the steps of the church. It’s for Father Gregory, who was shot there two months prior in a carjacking. Dean thinks they’re dealing with a vengeful spirit, but Sam still humors the angel aspect of it all. Dean knows that Sam prays everyday (and I sit weeping in the corner, thinking of Purgatory.)

An angel statue begins to quake. Sam looks at it with curiosity, only to be overtaken by awe as bright light suffuses the room. He passes out. 

“I saw an angel,” Sam gasps to his brother later. He reports that the angel spoke to him and told him to kill a man. The kicker is, the doomed guy on Sam’s hit list hasn’t actually committed any crime...yet. Dean’s unimpressed by Sam “Minority Report” Winchester’s insistence that he’s been chosen by the angels and God for this mission. I give Dean a high five, then methodically throw rocks through every single one of my windows as I think about the next thirteen seasons. 

Their mom used to tell them every night that angels were watching over them. “She was wrong,” Dean says bitterly, “There’s no higher power. There’s no God. There’s just chaos. Violence. Random unpredictable evil that comes outta nowhere. Rips you to shreds. You want me to believe in this stuff? I’m gonna need to see some hard proof.” (I gallantly resist making a dirty joke about Castiel’s “hard proof.”) 

Ahem. Anyway, Dean’s solid on the ghost theory. At the priest’s crypt they find wormwood growing - it’s a sign of a restless spirit. LOLLLL early seasons. Sam agrees to hold a seance. 

They head out of a corner grocery a little while later, stocked with SpongeBob mats and candles for the seance, when Sam sees THE SIGN. Light glows around his mark - the guy he’s supposed to kill. While Ace of Base plays in my head, Sam makes a move  to kill - er, stop - the ghost-tagged perp. Looking to forestall Sam’s murder-to-be, Dean tells Sam to run the seance and tails Sam’s suspect on his own. Dean watches the guy pick up a date, and then they’re off again.

Meanwhile, Sam’s obediently running the seance.

The priest appears in the crypt, horrified to see what looks like THE VERY DEVIL WORSHIP taking place. “I can explain,” Sam says before utterly failing to explain anything. And then light fills the room. The priest wonders if it’s an angel, but Sam sorrowfully notes that it’s only Father Gregory’s ghost. 

The glowing angelic vision suddenly distills into a normal human figure. Father Gregory wonders why Sam isn’t killing his marked man. After all, he’s an angel and he commanded it! Sam glumly explains that NO, Father Gregory is just a normal ectoplasm-slinging ghost. 

Dean loses the trail of the marked man, while Father Gregory explains that his kill orders are redemption for the killers and every one of his marks is guilty. “This is vengeance. This is wrong,” the older priest declares and I look VERY HARD at the rest of the show. 

Meanwhile, the guy Dean was tailing parks his car in an abandoned alley and attempts to attack his date. JAB HIM IN THE EYEBALLS, LADY! Dean bashes his head in just in time and saves the date. The guy drives off and Dean follows quickly on his tail.

The old priest offers last rites to Father Gregory, who begins to flicker. 

Sam watches in full puppy eyed mode as Father Gregory disappears, presumably to high five ghosts in Heaven. 

Dean chases the Bad Guy through the streets until a truck pulls out in front of Bad Guy’s car. A metal pole bounces off the truck, pierces the windshield, and impales the guy right in the chest. 

Later, Sam morosely packs his bag back at the motel. 

For What the Fuck is this Motel Room Design Science:

Sam’s sad that there wasn’t an angel watching out for people on Earth. Dean pulls out his flask, takes a big swig, and promises to watch out for Sam. “You’re just one person,” Sam tells him. He’d hoped there was a higher power guiding their lives. One who’d grant Sam salvation. 

“Knocking on Heaven’s Door” starts to play, while Dean confesses his current emotional state. He proposes that the insane way the Bad Guy died MIGHT have been God’s will. I kick Chuck right in the nuts. 

Quakin’ Quotes:

Aw, dammit! That was my last quarter. Hey! You got any quarters?

There's a ton of lore on unicorns too. In fact, I hear that they ride on silver moonbeams and they shoot rainbows out of their ass

You’ve got faith. I’m sure it makes things easier

One of the perks of the job. We don’t need to operate on faith

Men cannot be angels

There’s so much evil in the world, Dean. I feel like I could drown in it.

 Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[minteaventi]

Mondstadt girls & their zodiacs

Diona | January 18th | Capricorn ♑

People born on January 18th benefit from being driven and disciplined; such as Diona being driven by her disdain of alcohol, thus making the worst drinks in Mondstadt and turning everyone against alcohol is a goal she doesn’t give up on, even if her drinks always turn out perfect. They can be quite dictatorial and defiant when they feel that those close to them are drifting apart from their ideals, as such when she saw her father in a drunk stupor; however, not being able to blame her father, she blamed the wine, thus creating the drive in her to maintain a bar and ruin the wine industry. These Capricorns are driven by ambitions they have had since they were little, much to the dismay of Diona as her young self never gave up on the story of the spring fairy and was blessed with a power to always mix good drinks.

Jean | March 14th | Pisces ♓

Just like a true Pisces they are conscious and devoted to their cause, once they find one, and this is quite easy for the charitable Pisces who's always ready to give the world a helping hand - a trait we clearly see in Jean who is entirely devoted to maintaining peace in Mondstadt, the city and its people becoming her cause. While self-sacrifice, a lot of talent, and openness are apparently very different characteristics, in these people this is a successful combination that will bring many benefits to the communities where these idealists live, as Jean is always accepting requests from the people of Mondstadt on top of her duties as the Dandelion Knight, even if it means overworking herself to the point of passing out.

Noelle | March 21st | Aries ♈

Bold and fearless but also emotional and caring, these are the traits that make up an Aries born on this day. They are known to fight for what they want but know when to back up, especially if someone close asks them to, a strong attribute for a maid that is a definite contribution to Noelle being considered the “maid of all maids”. Those born on this day are also imaginative in the way they tackle every day activities in their lives, seen from how she can solve near-impossible problems for those who ask for her aid. They are ambitious and can only be content when they achieve their goals such as when she planned a trip to Dragonspine by her lonesome to save someone - something she achieved - but when she returned she was bedridden for three days; however, she was content with herself for achieving the goal she set had in mind.

Fischl | May 27th | Gemini ♊

These Gemini have a practical but graceful personality. Deep inside, they are a generous person and would share more than they do but are afraid to show their true selves, instead keeping people at an arm’s length. They can be defined as dependable, inquisitive, and adventurous. The best environment for those born under this sign relates to all situations where they can state their opinions, and they do have opinions about everything. They are also in a permanent search for new experience as their restless imagination never wants to take a break as Fischl’s imagination and love for fantasy helped her meet Oz and get her Vision.

Lisa | June 9th | Gemini ♊

Gemini born on this day are surprising, unpredictable, and quite eccentric; however, they still keep their feet on the ground when it comes to important life matters, such as how Lisa does her librarian work for the Knights to perfection, even under the scrutiny of others. They are known to have a lot of unseen abilities that they are not necessarily ardent on revealing, as Lisa knows everything from forbidden knowledge to distilling wine. Resourceful, articulate, and lenient, they seem to know instinctively how to tackle any problem, and even though Lisa states she could handle any issue she chooses to stay as the librarian for the Knights so she doesn’t have to add on to her workload. These natives are likely to lose their temper when things are further from where they would want them to be - library books, for example.

Barbara | July 5th | Cancer ♋

On one hand, they are very understanding with those around them while on the other they seem to invest a lot of time in making people keep their promises. Barbara shows her sign’s traits by being ambitious and graceful and not lacking enthusiasm either. These moonchildren possess many abilities and have a perceptive path to life, although this can cause them to become doubtful of their own abilities. Just like a true Cancer, they are attentive, conscientious, and aspiring, seen how Barbara is quite popular in Mondstadt and inspires all with her healing prowess and songs.

Klee | July 27th | Leo ♌

One of the options for the strongest knight of the Knights of Favonius would be a Leo! They are adaptable, direct, and these Leos don’t ever miss an occasion to try something new, even if it gets them sent to solitary confinement... They are quick to get on board with all kinds of plans, sometimes without thinking about the consequences. Those born on this day are always sincere and so actively engaged in so many enterprises at all times that is almost impossible to keep up with them.

Amber | August 10th | Leo ♌

Amber’s personality is more like a picture-perfect Leo with boundless energy and having a convivial spirit that seems to reach a lot of people. They are sincere with others and do not hesitate to tell them what they really think. These Leos hate nothing more than people who act in a cowardly manner and appreciate when others prove they have fair play because they are usually the ones to win competitions or similar activities. These natives are domineering and bossy and would never take someone else's decision as correct, unless they are forced to, like when she wouldn’t accept anyone thinking of her as a child and instead worked hard to prove to everyone that she was mature enough to care for herself.

Mona | August 31st | Virgo ♍

These Virgos are respectful, analytical, and have a great sense of duty, thus Mona speaks only the truth when giving her readings - even if the truth hurts. They enjoy art, witty people and to be supported in their various endeavors such as when she meets with Albedo, their conversations showing her new possibilities and causing her to think further in her own studies. Those born under this sign like to spend time engaging in a time and mind challenging task, such as astrology as it is a study that Mona finds out is never as clear-cut as it was originally thought to be, instead she realized she might have to study it for the rest of her life and even then she would only know a small amount about it.

Sucrose | November 26th | Sagittarius ♐

Sucrose being a Sagittarius means that she is friendly, albeit quiet, and very hardworking. While she is often times persistent in her work, she tends to keep a lot of what she’s working on to herself. Sometimes overly direct, people may be afraid to come to discuss with them the challenges they have; however, people under this sign usually enjoy offering advice to others and they enjoy journeying abroad. Just like a true Sagittarius, they have a great sense of self control and are often calm and conscious of their actions. One of the things Sagittarius needs to learn is that not everybody can be saved, and they cannot focus on supporting and helping those that they can’t help and instead should let them go.

[x] Mondstadt boys here / [x] reference here 

[avaliveradio]

Greg Hoy 'Move Along' is a mantra to keep going even when life is a drag

This song is written in the throes of the pandemic, 'Move Along' is a mantra to keep going even when life is a drag.

'Move Along' was the first song written for the album 'Cacophony'. We were stuck in quarantine last spring. The Dolly Parton biography was on television. She is one of my idols. She talks about writing 'one or a few songs every day.' So that night, my goal was to write a song a day. I did that for a week, and most of them were terrible, but 'Move Along' was the piece I wrote that particular night after being inspired by Dolly. It's about how life unfolds and how we do our best to ride the chaos while we are here.

We are excitedly booking a 3-week midwest tour for the fall to prepare a new EP for release.

Artist: Greg Hoy

New Release: Move Along

Genre: Rock, Americana, AltRock, Singer-Songwriter

Sounds like: : Tom Petty, Pixies, Wilco, Elvis Costello, Wallflowers, Foo Fighters

Located in: : San Francisco, CA

About the Artist

Greg Hoy is many things. He's a singer-songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, a recording producer, a recording engineer, something of a marketing guru, a jingle and sound composer and producer, a 'people engineer' in the tech world, an art director, and a label owner. But when you boil it all down — he's really just a guy in a band.

"Music is in everything I do. Helping companies hiring people is just like putting a band together. I've been fortunate that both sides of my brain work in tandem," the California-based artist says with a good-natured laugh.

With his 2020 tour cancelled due to... well, you know what, Greg managed to coax East Bay, California's Tiny Telephone studio owner John Vanderslice into letting he and his band social distance to make 'Cacophony' - an 11 song cycle now out on gold vinyl - written and recorded in just two weeks. The lyrically output was heavy: birth, death, pandemics, and fires. But that fast and furious creative drive is what propels him to create.

When you do more, you do more. So, maybe, it's the collective inertia of all his projects that propels Greg's prolific output? Somehow, between wearing so many hats — including tirelessly touring the nation in a vintage Airstream on the Limited Mileage tour throughout 2019 — he made time to write and a record a refreshingly eclectic, 22-song double-vinyl self-titled concept album released as the self-titled Greg Hoy & The Boys.

His last 2019 release, Enjoy the View, was recorded mostly live by audio legend Steve Albini (Nirvana, Pixies, PJ Harvey) in Chicago & mixed in Oregon by the equally amazing Sylvia Massy (Tool, Johnny Cash, Tom Petty, Red Hot Chili Peppers). Clocking in at just under 20 minutes, the band pushed the limits as a meaty 3 piece. The result is an immediately hooky slab of caffeinated, propulsive, plug-in-and-play rock n roll.

To date, the restless creative has issued over 30 albums under various monikers, including The Royal Panics, Greg Hoy ("no boys" for intimate releases), Greg Hoy & The Boys, and Twice As Bright. Mostly these days, he fires up Greg Hoy & The Boys, a loose collective of friends and trusted musicians that includes boys and girls.

Greg's vibrantly diverse output harkens back to the bedroom 4-track visionary aesthetic of 1990s indie-rock, as epitomized by Guided By Voices and its fearless leader Bob Pollard. When you distill it all down, Greg plays retro rock n' roll meticulously crafted from the timeless essentials of infectious melodies paired with undeniable grooves. Yet, within this focused path, Greg issues diverse albums aligned in spirit with such singular artists as Jack White, Dave Grohl, Neil Young, Queens Of The Stone Age, Cake, The Jam, The Who, The Beatles... "All the 'the something' bands," Greg playfully adds.

Catch Greg out in the wild in 2021.

(Bio by Lorne Behrman)

LINKS:  https://open.spotify.com/track/3khWcvwS8w2dZAh7uJ9LfM?si=4b62a992b1c94451 https://www.instagram.com/thegreghoy https://twitter.com/thegreghoy https://www.facebook.com/greghoyandtheboys https://thegreghoy.com/

Featured on these Playlists:

🔥Release Radar New Music Playlist https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2JOBcgSYgGmV2g27N1CUXx?si=PQFpAPUbQ0m4ByZEbtBtLg

🔥JAX DAILY Morning Coffee Playlist:

  https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7pEY8BiSj6sLLSHAoOo9k0?si=IrwIjmHVRN2vswRyw_P6gA

🔥Songwriter Gold https://open.spotify.com/playlist/68x51bTCMLuLi4o6vqwGfh?si=hXz5kG-rTN-bGkZBJuPm9g

🔥SUMMER SINGLES Fresh Indie Music Finds https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7oQCpI2xEN2RaGWLcRGQJX?si=o93Tf3RwSH2HLg4B57qAVw

🔥Road Trip Best Indie Folk 2020 Music Playlist - Indie / Pop / Folk / Rock https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1PLd9drToDxT0rUcGWGpZ9?si=FvfbaXtcQ1-HJyHf3h59oA

[fetid-tomb]

I was tagged by @a-pyre-of-doom to answer these questions, thanks!

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen? Black I guess.

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city? Country, though the city is more convenient.

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? To paint/Illustrate.

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? Never! (Also don't drink tea)

5. What was your favourite book as a child? The Lord of the Rings Trilogy.

6. Do you prefer baths or showers? Showers.

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would it be? Probably Vampire.

8. Paper or electronic books? Paper.

9. What is your favourite item of clothing? My Battle Jacket.

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it? I don't really have a problem with it.

11. Who is a mentor to you? N/A

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for? No I'm happy with a quiet life.

13. Are you a restless sleeper? I've have a few lengthy bouts with insomnia throughout my life.

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person? To a certain degree, yes.

15. Which element best represents you? Earth.

16. Who do you want to be closer to? Myself; To grow and learn.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment? Not really, no.

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory: At my friends 5th birthday party I spent the entire day on his father's drum kit instead of doing anything related to the party.

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? Perhaps crocodile?

20. What are you most thankful for? Music & art,

21. Do you like spicy food? Yeah but for the sake of flavour.

22. Have you ever met someone famous? Many musicians, some actors/voice actors.

23. Do you do you keep a diary or journal? Nah.

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil? No preference.

25. What is your star sign? Gemini.

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? Crunchy.

27. What would you want your legacy to be? Perhaps a decent album.

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read? Norse Mythology again by Neil Gaiman.

29. How do you show someone you love them? I surprise my partner, cook for her, take her out for dates or have home ones etc. tell her, show her.

30. Do you like ice in your drinks? Depends. Whisky is an absolute no due to the oils in Islay Scotch.

31. What are you afraid of? Heights.

32. What is your favourite scent? Petrichor, orchard fruits.

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname? Nah.

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? Scotland, learning to distil spirits.

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? The ocean is therapeutic.

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground? Put it in my account and buy a vinyl record online.

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Yes.

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children? N/A

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? I have a sigil designed by my artist/tattoo friend to get eventually. Probably just on my arm or something.

40. What can you hear now? Hulder from my record player.

41. Where do you feel the safest? Home, I guess.

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer? Both mental and physical health.

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be? At the height of the Roman Empire.

44. What is your most used emoji? 😅

45. Describe yourself using one word. Boring (Not a complaint)

46. What do you regret the most? Moving across the country for my ex.

47. Last movie you saw? Moon (2009)

48. Last tv show you watched? Arrested Development.

49. Invent a word and it’s meaning. Wahlkreitor, no idea what it means. Google says it doesn't exist. German Black Metal band name, done.  

Anyone who would like to do this feel free to do so and tag me!

[vitalpen]

The Daily Visit

(Written for The Webcomics Review’s Write a story you worthless piece of shit contest

Prompt: A dragon is kept locked up in a tower by an evil princess )

A slight figure descended on clacking shoes down a flight of spiraling stone stair.  She’d have been stomping if not for the heeled slippers on her feet.

As she reached a heavy wood door, she held up a ring of keys, having already found the correct one. This was the last of several barriers between the base of her tower and the cavern in the mountain which it rested on. She shoved the key in with a small grunt, turned it, and wrenched the door open.

The stone brick staircase was traded for one carved into the rock wall.  Her steps now echoed off into the massive dark.  She carried a torch with her, but it only lit the few yards in front of and behind her.  Any further and the chasm swallowed its light.  Bringing it was more habit than anything these days.  With the sheer number of times she’d been down here, she could’ve taken the steps blind.

It was a scheme 7 years in the making… and counting.  She’d known about this cavern for years, but it was only when she’d finally decided she’d had enough that she began to use it.  At ten years old, she’d first discovered the creature.  By the time she was eleven, she’d devised her plan to capture it.  In her twelfth year she’d killed her parents and replaced them with puppets, animated with her own prodigious magic to a facsimile of life, then she’d created the strongest magically binding shackles the world had ever seen.  At thirteen, she engaged with, fought, and tricked her target into the cavern, binding it with the shackles.

That was supposed to have been the hard part.  

Yet here she was, at seventeen, four years later…

Not a day went by that she didn’t think about it and it never failed to sour her mood.  All that work, the kind that even the most powerful magic users would balk at, and she’d done it.  At thirteen.  She could already go down in history as one of the greatest sorceresses to ever live.

She came to the bottom of the cave, a smooth surface, slick with dripped water.  Only a passing thought went to her skirt dragging through the puddles and she quickly decided that she didn’t care.

“Speaker!”  Lucia DuFort shouted the name it told her heatedly into the shadows.

The first response was something between a growl and a groan.  Whichever it was, it shook the very air.  “GOOD EVENING, YOUR HIGHNESS.”  The words were spoken slowly, tiredly, and snidely.  It was the cadence something very old and powerful with nothing but time on its claws.  “YOU SEEM… IN POOR SPIRITS.”  It chuckled, sending a gust of foul-smelling wind toward her.

“You might say that,” she replied through gritted teeth.

The ground shook as it shifted in its spot with a laugh.  It knew that she had been dreading this thinly veiled excuse for aristocrats to masturbate over their status for weeks.  That’s what all these parties were, an orgy of the egos.  She could hear the rumbling of the creature standing up and the sound of parting wind as its long neck swung down to her. Then its lid opened, revealing a swirling green and black orb that was twice her size and a slit-shaped pupil she could’ve walked through like a doorway.  “WAS THE BALL NOT WHAT YOU HAD HOPED?”

Lucia’s face twisted into a snarl.  With graceful, practiced movements, she lifted her arm and outstretched it toward the beasts.

Blood-red streaks of lightning lanced from her fingers, bathing the room in angry illumination. They revealed the entire mountainous form of the dragon she had worked so hard to break.  They pierced its scales, causing it to howl in pain and thrash against the perfectly polished shackles that had held it for the past four years.  She tortured the beast for nearly a full minute before her bloodlust subsided. When she was done, the dragon was heaving in its spot, smoke rising from the fresh burns that covered its body.

That was when she heard it, the unmistakable sound of deep, growling laughter.  “WORSE THAN EXPECTED, THEN?”  The snark to its tone was pained, but strong.

“Do you have any idea what I’ve endured tonight?”  She snapped at it, resisting the urge to simply shock it again.  Instead she dropped onto the floor and began tugging the uncomfortable heeled slippers she’d been forced to wear for the entire day.

“WOULD IT BE COMPARABLE TO ELECROCUTION?”  When she only glared in response, it continued with a grin. “DO TELL.”

“For the past eight hours, I’ve been made to play host to the most pompous, mind-rotting, ivory-tower-dwelling band of narcissists I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting.” Free of her footwear, she stood up once more.  “These… degenerates are supposed to be the ruling class, yet they are so insulated from the outside that I am deeply surprised I was only subjected to a single ‘dear wife and sister’.  They’re as inbred as the backwood troglodytes that work the fields.”

The dragon let loose a roaring guffaw at that, massive belly shaking.  “TRULY THE HEIGHT OF YOUR SPECIES.  I IMAGINE THEY GET ALONG WITH YOUR PARENTS FAMOUSLY.”

“Quite,” she took on a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.  “Puppets with only a semblance of thought, a perfect match, really.  It never ceases to amaze me how no one has noticed anything different about them in five years.”  Lucia had nothing but animosity for the inane pair of twits that brought her into a world of idiots.  Only when she was approaching “marrying age” did they begin to interact with her whatsoever.  Gutting them in their sleep was the first thing she’d ever truly enjoyed.  “Did you know one of the visiting kings has a rebellion on his hands?”  Finally, her eyes matched her smile and she actually began to giggle.  “Because he doesn’t. He’s going to be slaughtered in his sleep by the month’s end and he has no idea.”  She spoke the words like they were school yard gossip.

“IS THAT ONE OF YOUR PET PROJECTS?”

“The rebellion?  Not this one, no.” She shook her head, still smiling. “They’ve simply been overtaxing and underfunding.”  She dowsed the torch and let her eyes adjust to the dark, pulling her legs in and hugging them as she began to pout.  “I hate being used as decoration for these people.”

“IGNORED, WERE YOU?”

“You know if there’s one thing I hate, it’s being talked about like I’m not in the room.”  She grumbled.  “I don’t think a single thing of substance was said to me the entire party.”

“AND WHAT OF YOU PARENTS?  DID YOU LEARN ANYTHING INTERESTING FROM THEM?”

“Nothing that I didn’t alre-“ she stopped, deflating a little.  “Ah yes. The men.”

The dragon laughed again. “YOU ARE GETTING TO THE MARRYING AGE.”

“From time to time, it seems I made those puppets a little too well.”  She lied back on the stone.  “They have to keep up the charade and part of that includes introducing me to… suitors.”  With a huff, she climbed to her feet.

“NO PLACE FOR ROMANCE, CHILD?”

“If these are the only options I have, I’ll gladly die alone.”

“AH, TO BE YOUNG AND DRAMATIC AS A PRINCESS JUST SHY OF ADULTHOOD.”

“You’ve seen my archery?” She asked, ignoring the snipe, taking a solid stance, and mimicking the well-practiced form of a bowman.

“‘SEEN’ IS AN INTERESTING CHOICE OF WORDS,” Speaker replied pointedly.  

It was only now that Lucia recalled that she’d temporarily blinded it with arrows to the eyes some months back.  The memory made her chuckle.  “Then you’re intimately familiar.  See, despite six years of training both on foot and on horseback, a certain prince from the north is simply convinced that I’m a novice and he must graciously impart to me the wisdom he’s obtained in the past year on the subject.”

The dragon groaned in annoyance.  “PLEASE TELL ME THAT THIS ISN’T THE SAME ONE FROM THE LAST PARTY.  WHAT WAS THE NAME AGAIN?  ALTI-SOMETHING.”

“Oh, so you remember Prince Alitran Bartimus von Gildenshire,” she emphasized each and every syllable of the name with pure, distilled contempt.  “Long pursuer of my affections and condescender of my every step.”

“THAT TWIT, YES.”

“Well, I am pleased to report he is no less an ingrate since last we saw him.  You would also be interested to know that my back is ‘too straight’, my shoulder blades are ‘too close’, my legs are ‘too wide’.  It was all I could do not to plunge a damn arrow into his throat.”   Her fists were squeezed so tightly they were starting to hurt, but she was too angry to care.  “And his parents are no better.”  She began to pace and took on an unflattering imitation of King Gildenshire’s pompous voice. “Our ‘quaint’ little kingdom is so charming to them and my parents so agreeable that they couldn’t bare to see anything terrible befall us.  After all, we’ve only just a thousand soldiers in our ranks, barely enough to keep the peace should the peasantry grow restless!”  She picked up one of her shoes and stared daggers into it.  “We’re one of the smallest territories in the region. So of course we’re the but of every joke and belittling backhanded compliment.”  Her grip on the shoe tightened.  “Quaint.  I could kill them all in an instant and they have absolute gall to call my kingdom quaint.”

Speaker chuckled, drawing her attention.  “CAREFUL CHILD.  PRIDE IS LIFE’S GREAT FOLLY.  I BELIEVE I AM LIVING PROOF OF THAT.”

“It’s not pride if I’m right,” she snapped back, magic crackling in her hands momentarily. “They talk like they know anything that goes on in their own kingdoms.  I know more about their kingdoms than they do.  But I’m just the daughter of a bumbling, unthreatening king and queen, good only for my looks.  And all the while, I must sit there,” her voice took on a sickeningly sweet tone, even raising in pitch.  Meanwhile, smoke began to rise from the shoe in her hand.  “I must be sweet and bubbly and charming as can be,” just as quickly as the façade came, it left.  “Constantly denying the ever-more-tempting urge to slide a blade into the throats and drag it across.”  As if to punctuate the sentence, the shoe burst into flames and she dropped onto the floor.  “And do you know the worst part?”

“I MIGHT, BUT ENLIGHTEN ME NONETHELESS.”

“Trapped beneath the castle, beneath my tower, is a force that could reduce armies and cities alike to ash.”  She lifted up from the ground, feet leaving the floor and levitated right up to the giant set of eyes.  “But it. Won’t.  Cooperate.”

The dragon made a show of lowering its head onto its front claws and blowing air out its nose ponderously. “TRULY A DILEMMA FOR OUR TIME. I ONLY REGRET THAT I AM INCAPABLE OF ADVISING YOU ON HOW TO ATTAIN THIS POWER YOU SEEK.” The formal tone, the overcomplicated sentence structure, Lucia knew when she was being made fun of.  The dragon suddenly raised its head.  “AH!  GRACIOUS INSPIRATION, I HAVE KNOWN THEE ONCE MORE!”  it turned to her again, its eyes dead serious.  “HAVE YOU CONSIDERED POLITELY REQUESTING ITS SERVICES?”

Lucia began to bite the inside of her cheek, a habit she’d picked up recently to try and keep herself calm in the face of unyielding rage.  She couldn’t let it get to her, not now.  “Have I not shown I am worthy,” she almost pleaded.  “Have I not demonstrated my dedication to these lofty goals?  What must I do?!”

“YOU HAVE DEMONSTRATED YOUR ABILITY TO STALL AND WHINE.”  With a gust of air from its movement, the dragon stood up and came to its fullest height, glaring at her with a ferocity she hadn’t seen it use since the day she captured it.  Only this time, there was an element of familiarity to it that stung.  “YOU ARE A CHILD WITH ALL THE POWER SHE COULD EVER DREAM OF, ALL THE CUNNING AND RESOURCES SHE COULD EVER NEED.  YET YOU ARE STILL A CHILD.  AND NOT ONCE SINCE BIRTH HAVE YOU BEEN TOLD YOU HAVE VALUE.  YOUR MOTHER AND WERE NAUGHT BUT FLEETING DISAPPOINTMENTS. BY THE TIME THEY BEGAN TO CARE, YOU COULDN’T STAND HAVING THEIR APPROVAL.  SO YOU SOUGHT THE APPROVAL OF SOMETHING FAR GREATER.  YOU DO NOT SEEK A SERVANT, YOU SEEK A PARENT.”

The words, spoken with equal parts dismissal and disappointment, stung her in a way she hadn’t been expecting.  And Lucia couldn’t understand why.  She wasn’t just a child, she was a sorceress, she wasn’t stalling, she was planning, she never cared what her parents thought.  She didn’t care what anyone thought.  The very idea that she did… it brought upon her a pure distilled rage that overwhelmed her.  It was only now that she noticed the metallic taste of blood.  She’d bitten her cheek too hard.  That taste was all it took to send her over the edge.

“I do not want your approval,” she spoke, trembling as sparks of red arced between her fingers. “I want your SUBJUGATION!” With a scream of rage, she let loose her lighting with both hands, impaled the creature in dozens of places. Speaker screamed in agony and writhed on the ground.  Only the shackles prevented it from bringing the entire cavern down around them.  Lucia didn’t know how long she held it like that, but it had long since stopped moving when she ceased the onslaught.

All was silent.  The dragon was still.  “Speaker?”  Lucia called warily, suddenly feeling her resolute rage crumble away like sand against the tide.  “Speaker?!” She called, more frantically.  There was no reply.

No.  She hadn’t.  She couldn’t. It wasn’t.

What had she done?

All that time, all those talks, every hour she’d spent planning, preparing, everything in the last seven years of her life.  Gone in an instant.  Slowing, her hands moved to her head, fingers running into her hair.  Slowly her grip on the locks began to tightened.  She began to shake again, not from rage, but from fear, anguish, and frustration.  Tears welled up in her eyes.

Then it began to move.

“FOOLISH CHILD. FRAGILE CHILD.  RECKLESS CHILD.  WEAK.  CHILD.” The only way to describe Speaker’s tone was ‘ominous’.  The words were laced with history, experience, and disdain.  For the first time since they’d met, Lucia felt the millennia behind the voice.  “WE DRAGONS HAVE BUILT A LEGACY OF OUTLASTING.  NIGH IMMORTAL, NIGH IMPERVIOUS, I HAVE SEEN THE RISE OF CIVLIZATIONS THAT YOUR GRANDPARENTS DON’T REMEMBER.  YOUR EMPIRE COULD LAST TEN GENERATIONS OR MORE AND IT WOULD BE LONG FORGOTTEN BEFORE I FIND MY FINAL REST.  THE OLDEST AMONG YOU ARE BUT CHILDREN TO ME, AND YOU ARE BUT A CHILD TO THEM.  DO YOU TRULY BELIEVE A HUMAN LIFE IS BUT A TRIFLE FOR ME?  WHEN YOU DIE, YOUR ENCHANTMENT WILL FADE AND I SHALL SIMPLY BE FREE AGAIN.  YOU WILL, BEFORE TOO LONG, BE NOTHING BUT A DISTANT MEMORY TO ME.  AN AMUSING DIVERSION WHILE IT LASTED.  JUST LIKE OUR LITTLE TALKS.”  It spit the final word out with more venom than any viper.  It lied back down on its claws and closed its eyes.  “NOW I SUGGEST YOU GO AND SLEEP.  IF I RECALL CORRECTLY, YOU HAVE ANOTHER PARTY TOMORROW.”

Without a word, Lucia flew back to the doorway was fast as she could, locking the door behind her. When she was safely back up the stairs and in the tower’s basement, she fell to the floor and wept bitter tears. She had the monster in chains, unable to do anything but endure, and somehow it had come away the victor.  All her pride, all her ambition, what did it really mean if she couldn’t act on it without the terror of failure holding her back? Speaker understood that perfectly. All she’d accomplished, all her power, and it amounted to a raindrop in the ocean to a dragon.

--

Einwyther, known to the young princess as Speaker, allowed herself a smile.  In just four years, the girl had displayed dramatic improvement.  Many others would brush off this opportunity for introspection or worse, wallow in it. Not Lucia.  It might take a moment, but she would come back stronger, as every time before.

In another year or two, she’d be ready.

[otonymous]

In Waking Dreams (MLQC Lucien - NSFW)

Description: What’s a girl to do when her entire world has been torn apart?  This is my (smutty) take on MC dealing with the aftermath of Chapter 13. Warnings: NSFW/18+:  Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised.  SPOILERS — up to and including chapter 13!!!!  Trigger warnings: post break-up, angst Word Count: 995 words (~5 mins of angst, smut) AO3: read here Author’s Notes:  Apparently, after writing Flutter, I felt like torturing myself with more angst, this time from the MC’s perspective 😂. 

This story can be read as a stand-alone, but readers may get a fuller picture if they also read "Flutter," which was written in Lucien's POV.  

The story contains SPOILERS for the game, up to and including chapter 13!  Please note the potential trigger warnings mentioned above.  Happy reading! 😊

All characters & Mr Love: Queen’s Choice owned by Elex

When the dust finally settled, she found, much to her dismay, that she did not hate him.  That instead of flaring up to consume all remembrances of the man in its path, a heavy darkness fell upon the flames of anger to snuff them out, leaving only the dying embers of a love she had believed to be real.

Had any of it been real?

The thought alone brought a familiar tingle to the tip of her nose, but her eyes remained dry.  She had run out of tears to cry.

She knew it now — the plot had been revealed, the complicated tapestry of the spider’s web unravelling with the sole purpose of luring its unsuspecting prey.  But even still, every thought, no matter how benign, traced its way along a tenuous strand until it led her back to the centre of it all: Lucien.

Or more correctly, Ares.

The neat scrawl of his handwriting on the margins of scientific papers he gathered on her behalf in preparation for her shows.  The pink apron he surprised her with as thanks for cooking for him when he fell ill.  The toothbrush that stood next to hers, stubbornly refusing to give up its space on her bathroom counter.

He was everywhere.  Because for the longest time, Lucien had been her world.

To hate him would be tantamount to tearing apart everything in her life, for even the most mundane things had taken on his colours: black, and white, and the grey in between.

She would sit in the theatre they used to frequent together, watching as love played out in monochrome shadows across the silver screen, and wait.  Wait for that moment when she felt his presence in the seat behind hers, hauntingly inviting.  And when she could wait no longer, she would turn, hoping to catch a glimpse of dark hair falling over equally dark eyes, of the subtle elegance of a Grecian nose, of a smile that was as seductive as it was kind.

Kind.  

Had she been so starved for kindness that she was willing to obtain it at any and all costs?  And just at the point when she would begin to mentally berate herself for this moment of weakness, she remembered.

Remembered being entranced by the smooth slide of black leather as he pulled the tip of each finger in unhurried turn, folding his gloves inside the pocket of a wool coat the colour of midnight.  Recalled the hint of cedar wood and freshly cut grass, sweet and subtle and intoxicating as she inhaled deeply to assure herself of his presence.  Felt the heat of his phantom touch leave an incendiary trail as it traveled beneath her skirt, his voice soothing against her ear as he whispered that no one could hear the evidence of her arousal over the soundtrack.

And when the enigma in his eyes pulled her down its unfathomable depths, she would sink low...low…low…until her knees touched carpeted floor.  Lucien would sit, regal and relaxed, one large hand stroking her hair as the other balled into a fist fit tight between the bite of teeth to feel her take him in her mouth.

How she savoured him, warm velvet against the tip of her tongue, serpentine as it worked to coax that taste of pearlescent honesty from his body.  And before she even had the chance to dab at glistening lips, she found herself gathered in his arms, powerless to resist the ardour of his kiss as he shared in the flavour of their illicit love.

But no matter how many times she turned, the seat behind her remained empty, the sight a cold wind blowing through a barren landscape to remind her of the void left behind by the betrayal of the man she loved.

Lucien.  Ares.

Her cheeks burned with shame to find that even now, sitting in a theatre devoid of patrons save for herself and an elderly couple out of earshot, her hands sat restless in her lap, smoothing out the folds in her skirt and tugging at its hem.  

And when the music reached its crescendo, she would close her eyes, inhaling deeply as she saw him in her mind: Lucien before he was Ares.  She would allow herself the space of a scene to admit that she missed him, that despite the lies and cruelty, her heart stubbornly held out for any reason at all to forgive the unforgivable.  

Only then would she permit her hands to travel up…up…up between her thighs.  And Lucien would be there once more in the delicate fingers that danced over warm silk, impatient as they drew fabric aside to find that her body felt his absence as much as her heart.

She would try to remember how he liked best to touch her.  Drawing circles of fluctuating circumferences about her clit.  Teasing the entrance as index and middle finger furtively slipped deeper and deeper to distill the spirit of pleasure that dripped down the palm.

His love had intoxicated her with the most potent poison, and she wished she were still numb, stumbling through the fog of a waking dream instead of seeing things for what they were with blindingly sharp lucidity.  

Her heart hurt because she simply knew too much.

But what she didn’t know was that someone watched as her head slumped to the side following soft sighs, wishing his shoulder had been there to support it.  That dark eyes filled with torturous yearning in a dimly lit theatre to see love so close yet so far away.  That unbeknownst to the girl, she had never once sat through a screening alone.

For Lucien had never left her side.

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[dabblingdilettante]

We found a distillery in North Kansas City. They give tours, and mix a bomb-ass cocktail. 10/10 would recommend.