#satisfying afterburn soundtracks

[hislittleraincloud]

From the upcoming Secrets of the Gates Mansion soundtrack.

Lyrics under the cut.

Reflect my heart, I saw an angel in a noose

"Bruise"

(('Rachel (Broken)'))

But the barbed wire, it was sort of loose

With a stillborn cherub in her arms and how she held...

She wasn't cut, she wore a necklace of her bruise

The pearls of pain that she put to use

Bruise, bruise, bruise, bruise, bruise

With a stillborn cherub in her arms and how she held the little thorn to keep her warned

With a stillborn cherub in her arms and how she held...

Love is a nail

Always too late

When you're impaled

The pain of that

The rope of trust

Hangs you til more

And when it's still

Until you're dead

Until you're dead

Until you're dead

Until you're dead

Until you're dead

[your-favorite-god]

Vita nostra aeterna pt 1

Wednesday's child is full of woe, ep 1

I’m not sure whose twisted idea it was to put hundreds of adolescents in underfunded schools run by people whose dreams were crushed years ago… but I admire the sadism. 

A monochromatic girl walked the halls of a seemingly normal high school, walking swiftly when she turned and pulled open a locker. Out falls her younger brother, Pugsley.

 “ I want names.”

‘I don't know who they were, honest! It happened so fast…”, the boy panics. He didn't want to witness the outcome of whatever his sister did. 

“Pugsley, emotion equals weakness. Pull yourself together.” As her brother continued to squirm and whimper Wednesday tried to start a sentence but was rudely interrupted. Images of what had happened before, her head thrown back as she saw the horrid jocks jeering at her little brother while they tormented him. “Wednesday?”

I’m not about to confess to my brother that I’ve recently been plagued by visions. They come on without warning and feel like electroshock therapy, but without the satisfying afterburn. 

“Leave this to me”,  Wednesday says as she promptly walks away. “Wednesday? What are you gonna do?” Pugsley questions, now free from his restraints. 

“What I do best.”

Endears POV:

“Wednesday, you know I always love your company. But is now the time? I was just about to tell Christina what happened at that gathering her precious Jonathan attended before class started”

She stares at me with a bag of piranhas in hand,” Cara, do you still have the peroxyacetic acid you made?” I look at her with a raised brow, “Of course I do, why?”. “Those fools hog-tied Pugsley and shoved him in his locker. I intend to teach them a lesson.” 

I can see how this might be confusing for you, allow me to briefly explain. Wednesday Addams is what most would call my best friend. 

Soulmate.

Shush ma morelle, anyways, we met a decade ago in the woods. She intruded upon my home and I found her very cute. So I decided to stay with her, my adorable little human. I came with her to her home and have continued to live with her family. I've even joined her in this boring little hovel named school. Or Should I say schools, we’ve been to many. Wednesday has this horrible habit of getting caught. 

It’s more satisfying to watch the looks on my victims' faces. 

As you can see, Wednesday has no appreciation for subtlety. But we’re just getting to the fun part, so let us get back to it. 

“Well then, allow me to raise you a better idea. Thallium in the principal's coffee. I’d prefer to avoid life on the run for now.” Wednesday pauses for a second, then looks at me with her version of loving eyes. “Brilliant mi vida, as always.” 

And off we went.

Non, Je ne regrette rien - Edith Piaf | Wednesday Soundtrack | Wednesday drops piranhas in the pool

We had stepped through the doors of the practice room as I heard the jocks mutter to themselves, 

“ Yo Dalton look, pigsleys sister and her weird ass friend. Hey, freaks! This is a closed practice!” 

Wednesday leveled them with her usual murderous stare as she spoke,” The only person that gets to torture my brother is me.” 

Nothing delighted me more than the fear on everyone's faces as she dropped the bag of piranhas into the pool, blood seeping into the normally crystal-blue chlorine-filled water. And that is how we landed ourselves here. In the Addams family car with Wednesday's parents, Morticia and Gomez. They were singing In Dreams as they doted on one another, Wednesday was brooding next to me. Unsatisfied with being shipped away to her parents' former school. “Darling, how long do you intend on giving us the cold shoulder?” Morticia spoke as Gomez continued to kiss her arm and neck. 

“Lurch, please remind my parents that I’m no longer speaking to them,” Wednesday replies, making me grin. I love it when she's like this, all petulant and ruffled, most of the time it means I’ll get to play around while she's busy thinking and sulking.  Her mother hums as her father tries to persuade his daughter,” I promise you, my little viper, you will love Nevermore. Won’t she, Tish?”  “Of course. It’s the perfect school for her. For them both really.” This irks Wednesday as she replies, “ Why? Because it was the perfect school for you? I have no interest in following in your footsteps. Becoming captain of the fencing team, Queen of the dark prom, president of the seance society.” Morticia looks at Wednesday with a serene face, always ever so calm and poised. “I merely meant that finally, you will be among peers who understand you. Maybe you’ll even make some friends.” Gomez looks at Wednesday with his signature grin,” Nevermore is like no other boarding school. It’s a magical place. It’s where I met your mother.” “and we fell in love.” They look at each other with this mutually infatuated gaze and sigh. Wednesday's eyes darken, if that's possible,” You guys are making me nauseous. And not in a good way.” They looked at her again” Darling, we aren’t the ones who got you expelled. That boy’s family was going to file attempted murder charges. How would that have looked on your record?” Wednesday looked off as her eyes widened slightly,” terrible. Everyone would know I failed to get the job done.” At that I couldn't keep it in, I chuckled as the little family smirked at me. Save for Wednesday of course who was still very occupied with her brooding. 

My my, this was going to be a fun new adventure. I can feel it. 

As we drove through the strong… iron… gates of this new school, morticia made mention od the weather. An admirable attempt at small talk through the thick silence, normally i would be the one to break it but wednesday specifically told me to give her parents the cold shoulder. If I’m being honest i dont entirely understand why but she looked so cutr and annoyed when she asked in her own way. How did she word it again? Oh yes, i was to be silent or else she would lock me in a tower and take all my jewelry. And my tongue. 

3rd POV

Finally the small family unit had made it to the principals office, greeted by Larissa weems.

“Wednesday is certainly a unique name, i'm guessing it was the day you were born?” she spoke with a grin, after everyone had taken their appropriate seat. Save of course for endeara, she preferred to stand. Tall in her red bottom pumps and silk blouse, she had taken her place behind wednesday, gazing at her new principle with a veiled look of boredom and small smile.

“I was born on friday the 13th.” wednesday quickly rectified, as morticia followed, “Her name comes from a line from my favorite nursery rhyme, Wednesdays child is full of woe.” 

“You always had a unique perspective on the world morticia, did your mother tell you we used to be roomates?” Principle weems said  fondly, her welcoming facade staying strong through the addam’s penetrating gazes. 

“And you graduated with your sanity intact? Impressive.” wednesday spoke again. The topic quickly changed as the principle spoke of her and endearas “interesting educational journey.” 

“Eight schools in five years?” Weems questioned,” They havent built one strong enough to hold us. I’m sure this one wont be any different.” wednesday replied with her same bluntness.  Endeara simply smiled as her parents bristled and were about to reply,” Thats just wednesdays way of trying to say she is very excited for this new opportunity. As am i, and thank you for giving us such a gift.” their new principle seemed to fully take in endeara then, all elegance and playful smiles as she dressed in her small red bottomed pumps and silk black blouse. 

“Nevermore doesn’t usually accept students mid-term, but given their perfect grades and your family’s long history with the school, I’ve spoken with the board and we’ve made an exception.” Weems said simply as the addams parents joined hands in satisfaction, “what about their um,... therapy sessions? The court ordered them.” morticia eyed her daughter as she spoke, hesitant to ask. “The school school has a relationship with a therapist in jericho, she can meet twice a week.” they all looked to wednesday as gomez spoke,” did you hear that my little storm cloud? Youre in excellent hands.” 

“We’ll see if she survives the first session” wednesday quipped back, her gaze unwavering to the woman in front of her as mortica and endeara grinned at her as well. 

The principle resumed again, unbothered. Truly impressing endeara as she spoke again,” ive assigned wednesday to her mothers old dorm. Ophelia hall.” morticia gasps and chuckles excitedly as wednesday turns to her and says,” refresh my memory. Ophelia’s the one who kills herself after being driven mad by her family, correct?” morticia nods happily as the principle leans forward with a plastered grin 

“Shall we go meet your new roommate?’

Endearas POV

We go to wednesdays new dorm and its… something. The family is stunned as morticia speaks,” its so… vivid.” The girl, the new roommate, looks at me and gasps excitedly “Howdy roomie!” and i have to bite my lips from cackling. I mean this is just beautiful, but our principle steals all the fun and introduces wednesday. “wednesday , this is enid sinclair.” Enid looks to from me to wednesday confused, maybe even disappointed, as she asks,” are you okay? You look a little pale.” and mortica smiles as she explains,”wednesday always looks half dead.” “its genetic” i whisper, smiling at the girl. Enid goes in for a hug from wednesday as we both step back, she looks disheartened as she mumbles,” not a hugger. Got it.” morticia pipes up again,”please excuse wednesday. She’s allergic to color.” enid looks shocked,” oh wow. What happens to you?”

“I break out in hives and then the flesh peels from my bones.” this is when our principle speaks again,” luckily weve special ordered your and endears new uniforms. Enid, please take them to the registrar’s office to pick it up along with her schedule, and give them a tour along the way.”

I whisper quietly to Wednesday, ”If they dare put me in cheap, scratchy, suffocating material…i will raze this school to the ground.” Wednesday almost smirks as the Addams look at me in pride and the other two look at me in horror. This tour better be good. 

[entergamingxp]

Panzer Dragoon: Remake review – flawed revisit to an off-kilter masterpiece • Eurogamer.net

Panzer Dragoon is a strange game. Otherworldly would probably be a more elaborate way of putting it: Sega’s 1995 original overcame the more limited technology of the Saturn to transport players to a faraway fantasy touched by Frank Herbert’s Dune and Hayao Mayazaki’s Nausica of the Valley of the Wind. It’s a wonderfully alien place, where oversized insects scuttle under monumental pastel skies.

Panzer Dragoon: Remake review

Developer: MegaPixel

Publisher: Forever Entertainment

Platform: Reviewed on Switch

Availability: Out now on Switch

No wonder it lodged itself in players’ imaginations, gaining a cult status that only seems to have grown in all the years since. There have been follow-ups and spin-offs – the RPG Panzer Dragoon Saga remains an all-time great, while Panzer Dragoon Orta, part of the fantastic wave of Sega games made for Microsoft’s first Xbox, provided a muscular modern update and Xbox One launch title Crimson Dragon was a wonky but entertaining spiritual successor from series creator Yukio Futatsugi. This, though, goes back to the source for what is, for better and worse, a faithful retread of the original.

It’s a slightly odd proposition, with Sega and the original development team seemingly uninvolved. Instead this is the work of Polish publisher Forever Entertainment and developer MegaPixel Studio, both relative unknowns – which might be why this feels, more often than not, like a fanmade project, with cut corners and slim production values. But it’s important to emphasize the fan part of that equation, because this clearly comes from a place of passion, with the source material being treated with utmost respect.

One of the few concessions to modernity is a photo mode, though it just goes to highlight that this remake isn’t much of a looker.

So, fundamentally, this is the same game. It’s an on-rails shooter, though such a throwaway description doesn’t do justice to the lineage of on-rails shooter to which this belongs: this is a continuation of the form Sega made its own with the likes of Space Harrier and Afterburner, and would later reinvent in scintillating style with Rez. Panzer Dragoon’s lock-on system is similar to its successor Rez, utilising a satisfying scan and spray approach that has your reticule painting groups of enemies before they’re disposed of in one brilliant barrage.

It felt fantastic back then and it feels fantastic now, and the remake presents two different approaches to the action. There’s a modern control scheme that divides control between both sticks, with one moving the dragon you ride on and the other your aiming reticule, but while you’re afforded a bit more direct control Panzer Dragoon simply isn’t tuned for it – it’s plain clumsy. The traditional control scheme, which uses the one stick, is the better option – it’s how Panzer Dragoon was intended to be played, and it’s where some of the idiosyncrasies come into focus. I’ve always loved how as a passenger you don’t quite have direct control of the dragon you ride on, merely suggesting it move this way and that and making it feel much more alive as a result.

With enemy placement and pacing identical to the original, what you’re ultimately left looking at with this remake is the visual upgrade, which is perhaps the least convincing part of the package. That early 3D era polygon sparseness was part of Panzer Dragoon’s ethereal appeal, and seeing the blank expanses filled in, you can’t help but feel something’s been lost. Something’s been gained, too, for sure – the remake is faithful to the Moebius-esque artwork, and at times seeing that fleshed out is heart-stirring – but it’s just as often muddy as it is marvelous, and any original claims of this running at 60fps are well wide of the mark, on the Switch at least.

Beyond all that, to call this package slim would be a polite overstatement. Instead, it’s a confused mess – once locked into a playthrough you can’t adjust simple settings such as the control method without exiting out to the main menu, there’s nothing by way of extras and the remixed soundtrack from Panzer Dragoon Orta composter Saori Kobayashi is entirely absent at launch, to be patched in at a later date along with gyro controls. It’s an odd state of affairs.

Still, Yoshitaka Azuma’s original soundtrack is as majestic as ever, as is so much in what’s always been a strange game. Perhaps it’s only fitting that it would get a strange remake, from fans who seem several steps removed from the original. Their work is spotty, with a few too many oversights and blunders than would be ideal, but the spirit of 1995’s Panzer Dragoon emerges intact. This isn’t the perfectly pitched remake you might have hoped for, but it’s still capable of soaring to some considerable heights.

from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/04/panzer-dragoon-remake-review-flawed-revisit-to-an-off-kilter-masterpiece-%e2%80%a2-eurogamer-net/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=panzer-dragoon-remake-review-flawed-revisit-to-an-off-kilter-masterpiece-%25e2%2580%25a2-eurogamer-net

[buildercar]

New Post has been published on http://www.buildercar.com/2017-mercedes-benz-c63-amg-s-coupe-is-a-force-of-nature/

2017 Mercedes-Benz C63 AMG S Coupe is a Force of Nature

The air is frigid. My breath hangs in the air as if instantly frozen. To my right, the skies above the San Gabriel Mountains are ominous. The wind whips the dry desert sand back and forth, corroding the liquid-looking matte gray paint. A cold, constant drizzle bristles my skin as I fuel the 2017 Mercedes-AMG C63 AMG S. I put the pump back, hear the metallic click of the fuel cap, and eagerly slide into the warm leather of the bucket seats. The storm ahead doesn’t seem to want me to make it to Las Vegas.

This car shouldn’t be legal on restrictive U.S. roads. Speeds limits are chains, shackles around the C63 AMG S’s suitcase nuke of an engine. It’s addictive and dangerous — 503 horsepower of pure fury from the twin-turbocharged 4.0-liter V-8 hidden under the coupe’s long muscular hood. It beseeches you to cruise at extra-legal speeds, glide across the tarmac, punch your way through U.S. laws. Every second I spend with this car tempts me to engage in an all-out interstate police chase.

The storm’s wrath hunts me through these nearly uninhabited stretches of desert. The heavy rhythms and unpredictable lyrics from Little Simz’s “Deranged” explode through the car’s optional Burmester speakers; the song and storm in harmonic rage are forces of nature. I inch the C63 AMG S’s throttle pedal more parallel with the road’s surface, attempting to break free from the middling rain and cold winds rapping at the windshield. In the desert’s desolation, the rear squats, the tires lose traction on the slippery pavement, and I succumb to a childlike giggling as the needle effortlessly climbs to triple-digit speeds.

On the pockmarked desert roads, the C63 AMG S sashays over the road’s imperfections like a seasoned ballet dancer. The harsh, teeth-chattering suspension settings of the standard C-Class coupe are a distant memory. There’s never a second where I believe the chassis and I aren’t one. It’s incredibly comfortable and inspires behavior that should only be reserved for closed roads and racetracks. This supple, slightly irresponsible character makes it easy to lose perspective of just how fast you’re going — a problem compounded by the C63 AMG S’ faint exhaust note.

The snarl isn’t there. The turbochargers have muzzled the AMG-built engine and send dull, raspy blubs from the twin exhaust ports. Its lack of sonic fidelity makes you question the car’s cylinder count, and it’s only by opening the hood and counting the cylinders that you accept the specs Mercedes-AMG insists are real. While the automotive world is understandably going to smaller displacement engines with turbochargers, I’m saddened that the vicious yowl and brutal bass of the naturally aspirated 6.2-liter V-8 is no longer available.

Through the speakers, the stark lyrics of Little Simz changes to the heavy percussion of Queens of the Stone Age “No One Knows.” The beat quickens, as well as my pulse. Finally onto the highway, I point the car straight at Las Vegas. Like an arrow pulled back in a bow, its potential energy is ready to be released. Turning onto the ramp, my foot to the floor, the back end slides far left as the tires effortlessly break loose. I tense, countersteer, and slide my way through the corner in a small cloud of tire smoke and smiles. With this, the clouds seem to recoil in fear, opening the road up ahead to the grand splendor of sun-drenched mountains.

Inside, I settle in for the long haul to Las Vegas. The doors, armrests, seats, dash — almost everything is lathered with opulently textured leather. What’s not covered in buttery-smooth cowhide uses aluminum and carbon fiber, perfect matches for the car’s aggressive personality. The two-piece, hard-backed sport seats encase you with cement-like solidity but remain comfortable thanks to the abundant and forgiving foam lining. My three-hour drive suddenly doesn’t feel long enough.

Mile after mile flies by and succumbs to this car’s autobahn soul. Even in comfort mode — the car’s least aggressive setting — there’s no letting up as the sublime seven-speed automatic transmission lets out an auditory “whomp” each time I click through the gears, passing turtle-like Prius drivers. Throttling up, I’ve ignited the afterburners on a fighter jet, and violence envelops me. While quieter than the previous generation, I’m beginning to suspect the twin-turbocharged V-8 produces more horsepower than Mercedes-AMG advertises.

As I edge closer to Las Vegas, the monotonous drone of traffic halts my momentum. This momentary lull allows my mind to drift to this car’s price. As optioned, it’s $92,000, and as much as I have fallen in love with how this car hammers roads, outruns storms, smokes lesser cars — even when those cars are 997 911 Turbo S models — bathes occupants in rich leather, and slides, that’s a huge sum of money.

For that kind of cash you could get any number of things: a Shelby GT350R with a couple days at the track and a spare set of wheels and tires. Or a base 911 Carrera, with similar bells and whistles but with better handling and one of the best manual transmissions ever devised, could be had for this price. My personal choice, however, would be a barely touched previous generation C63. It still offers thrills, good looks, and a premium interior, but you’d get the merciless cacophony of its un-boosted V-8.

Nevertheless, I have my doubts I’d be able to give up this car as I pull up to the valet at the Mandarin Oriental hotel. Even after three or so hours streaking through the bleak landscape of the California and Nevada deserts and a delicious steak and Old Fashioned patiently waiting for me, I can’t help but want to drive another 300 miles. I want to sear the tarmac while grinning from ear to ear. This car not only has the presence you want when you pull up to a swanky Vegas hotel, but the speed and g-force to satisfy enthusiasts, and an interior that cossets those luxury-seeking occupants. Its price and lack of soundtrack don’t matter. It’s a true autobahn stormer that can turn up in Saint Tropez without dirty looks from aristocrats enjoying their holiday. The 2017 Mercedes-AMG C63 AMG S Coupe is a car for the ages.

2017 Mercedes-AMG C63 AMG S Coupe Specifications

The Specs On Sale: Now Price: $75,995/$92,000 (base/as tested) Engine: 4.0L twin-turbo DOHC 32-valve V-8/503 hp @5,500-6,250 rpm, 516 lb-ft @1,750-4,500 rpm Transmission: 7-speed automatic Layout: 2-door, 4-passenger, front-engine RWD coupe EPA Mileage: 17/25 mpg (city/highway) L x W x H: 184.4 x 71.2 x 55.3 in Wheelbase: 111.8 in 0-60 MPH: 3.8 sec Top Speed: 180 mph

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[hislittleraincloud]

...The fuck Janet Jackson have to go all Professional Imbecile on me when I was literally tryna decide which of her goddamn hits I was gonna is for the Afterburn 2 soundtrack. (It's one of those weird shit happenings again...I was honestly going through her hits and deciding when this fuckery started happening.)

UGH.

This is literally why we can't have nice things. The creators of our nice things often turn out to be massive douches.

What's strange though, is that cancel culture is pretending like artists and musicians in general weren't always troubled shits with sometimes even more troubling behavior. Expecting to find moral perfection in the arts is like trying to extract the wetness from water.

Perhaps we really do need to be separating the art from the artist and leaving it at that, unless the artist is so vile (to me, examples would be J.K. Rowling and Mel Gibson) that it can't possibly be ignored. Maybe several factors should be considered.

Maybe Janet is just dumb as shit — it sure sounds like it — but still has the potential to be corrected and to change based on new knowledge. It's truly insane to sit here and watch people not comprehend that people can be of mixed race and still be a part of both. I'm Mexican (& White Hispanic) and Southeast Asian. I'm not any less of anything since my father is the 🌮 and my mother is the 🍜. Kamala is Indian and Jamaican (Black). Why is that so hard to comprehend?

That said, what is the litmus test for canceling someone in 2024? I'd like to know, because if we start combing through every single artist of the things we enjoy for something that someone finds objectionable, there will be nothing left. Perfection is for fan fic. We can mold things to how we want them to be with fan fic. We can't do that to real people, so we have to accept imperfections.

I mean. Maybe Janet is just going senile. She is seriously forgetting the fucking opening lyrics of "Rhythm Nation".

With music by our side to break the color lines

Let's work together to improve our way of life

Join voices in protest to social injustice

A generation full of courage, come forth with me

When some people get old they lose sight of themselves. I just hope she can cut the crap before she completely obliterates her legacy with these boneheaded moves.

[hislittleraincloud]

*SIGHS*

*opens wallet*

[hislittleraincloud]

DirecTor: *sweat-drenched and sore, tries to sneak in as quietly as he can*

AB Wednesday: *turns on the light with a click*

DirecTor: *jumps* Heeey. There. Kiddo. How goes it?

ABW: Hey there, author. It goes quite fine. *takes out her phone, taps the screen, turns it to me* But care to explain to me what I'm seeing here?

DirecTor: *squints* That's uh...that's the Lords of Acid.

ABW: ...I know. I'm asking about the scene behind Gigi. *taps her little black-nailed fingertip on the screen over my disabled Weeble ass gesturing to the crowd to show me their pussies*

DirecTor: Well uh...see...uh — I was...there.

ABW: ...I know. But how did that happen?

DirecTor: *swallows* Well. I was seated sort of off to the side near the stage entrance and when Gigi called for people to come up on stage for 'Pussy (Round)', the dancer pointed to me. Probably because of my shirt.

ABW: *purses lips, and I can't tell if it's out of anger or irritance* Well, it is an attention-grabber.

DirecTor: Yeah, tell me about it. I got a lot of grins and comments on the way to the venue and then at the venue. I'm on a shitload of peoples' clouds. How'd you get that video anyway?

ABW: *clicks it off after she sees Praga Khan giving me a hug at the end of the song* I have my sources.

DirecTor: ...

ABW: ...

DirecTor: It was Fester, wasn't it.

ABW: ...Perhaps.

✨👹🔥🫠🔥👹✨

So...somewhere in this world more than a few people have pics and video of my thicc ass embarrassing myself behind Gigi Ricci (the current vocalist for the Lords). Face reveal!:

This is actually a screencap from a video I took of myself listening to the White Girl Drama next to me before the shows started. I wanted to stick an icepick into my brain to escape her blathering. She was with her friend and they were both dressed as Coop Voodoo U devil women, full-on red body paint and all. But because of their drama, they left before the Lords even got to 'Voodoo U' (and it was on the set list). Like...the yappy one had fallen asleep at her table at one point and her friend looked a little concerned. I asked her if she was okay and she said yes, but...she didn't look ok 😬

I'm so tired. I'm too old for this shit, but it was worth it because it seems that every time I go out and do something like this, people gravitate towards me. I got to shake Praga Khan's hand (he turned to me before the song and shook my hand after I climbed the short stairs w my cane...I was shocked to have even been invited onto the stage by his dancer ETA: WIFE, I learned it was Inja, Praga Khan's wife 💀), and then he hugged me after the song was done. He's so little and frail 😳 But very sweet. I haven't let anyone touch me bc of COVID, but he was the exception. The man is a legend, and the Lords still have it.

Gigi was topless! She didn't have any X tape taped over her nips tonight, unlike during the Philly show (the vids I posted).

I did have to leave a little early (they weren't done yet) because I wanted to beat the crowd to BART and I didn't want to get stranded late in the damn Tenderloin. I made a friend...of course he is a cultured, older European (Dutch, LOL). He was sitting alone before everything started and looked a little lost (his friends didn't show up). He too needed to leave early bc he lives in San Jose and also had to catch BART back. We chatted quite a bit and stuck together during the show.

Anyway. I guess time will tell re: if I get sick. I shouldn't, bc I don't think my gear slipped and the venue was not packed...it was a comfortable half-packed hall, so people could actually socially distance themselves, or dance and move around. The crowd was pretty geriatric (like me), but there were quite a few younger Millennials there too. I really should have a headache from all the headbanging, but I don't (and interestingly enough, my voice isn't hoarse either, despite loads of screaming). My feet and legs are dead tho. I'll probably be bedridden for a couple of days.

ETA: The dogs were all asleep when I got back, and my old boy was fine. I love it when they're well behaved. Someone was trying to get their dog into the venue (when I arrived at the hall, there was a short line of people waiting to get in). I don't know if they succeeded, but I didn't see the dog in there, so. It was a small, white fluffy dog with a 'service dog' leash on it. Even if it was a real service dog (and I don't think it was), why would you bring the poor thing to a freaking Lords of Acid concert? It's not a goddamn orchestal symphony. The Lords are LOUD. I kept thinking how horrible it would be for my baby had I brought her. Too loud! She's used to loud Lords of Acid since I sometimes play the Afterburn soundtracks when we go out in her little front pack, but not THAT loud. Damn, people. That's just cruel.

[hislittleraincloud]

"You Belong to Me", Lords of Acid, Philadelphia, PA, Wednesday, May 15, 2024

"Mama hates punishing you, but you've been a very…very…naughty little monster.” 

~ "More Than One String to Her Woe, Part 2", Chapter 7 of Satisfying Afterburn

[hislittleraincloud]

👵🏼: "Do any of you use music to help you with your writing? It’s —"

*puts beer down, because I trust no one to hold it*

[hislittleraincloud]

The Nightshades' Theme from Satisfying Afterburn (YT link) (Single)

[hislittleraincloud]

Chapter 6 Part 1 is coming very soon. Here's the soundtrack.

[hislittleraincloud]

Pure Wenovan mode was sorely missed 🫴🏽🫠💕✨

✨🔥🖤🐦‍⬛💕💖💕👮🏻💙🔥✨

[hislittleraincloud]

"Rubber Doll", Lord of Acid, Philadelphia, PA, Wednesday, May 15, 2024

"You're friends with the Lords of Acid?" Why did I never know that?

"Oh yeah," he nodded. "Who do you think the Rubber Doll song's about?"

~ "More Than One String to Her Woe, Part 2", Chapter 7 of Satisfying Afterburn

[hislittleraincloud]

LIFE IS A HIGHWAY

I WANNA DRIVE IT

ALL

NIGHT

LONG

[hislittleraincloud]

I realize in this huge mess that I have to add this song to the overall Afterburn soundtrack (due to its impact on the storyline). Will do that too.

Seems like I'm doing a few revisions here and there. Nothing major (aside from the Tyler kisses), but if I do decide to actually retcon anything that matters, I'll announce it here. No real plans to do so.

God I love this version. It's so fucking 🔥

Please note that Satisfying Afterburn as a whole is not PG-13 rated and not Wenclair-centric; it's NC-17 and very smutty (yet still canon compliant). This takes place the day after Mayor Walker is murdered, and after both Donovan and Enid cut her off.

This text is subject to change and/or editing before the publication of its chapter.

(Wednesday & Enid, PG-13, F-word & mild cannabis consumption, 888 words give/take (so far))

She tried to whip past Hawte Kewture lest she be reminded of Enid, except that a massive ear worm flew from its temporarily open door and bulleted into her brain as she passed. 

To try to avoid owning the responsibility of what happened to him, Macbeth would see himself as a victim of prophecy and fate while ignoring that he still ultimately chose the actions that would lead him down his path of destruction.  There is no question that he was influenced by external persuasion, but Macbeth was also subject to his own faith in the supernatural: there were various “unexplained” happenings contributing to the faith he put in the prophe — 

"Homygod!" Enid exclaimed with a barking giggle, covering her mouth as Wednesday's typing suddenly ceased. The easily distracted werewolf had been lying on her bed, scrolling and flipping through her multiple apps instead of working on the history homework she had spread out on her blankets.

"What is it now?" Wednesday was already more than annoyed, having to write a paper on Macbeth for a class she should've already passed and completed last year at one of her previous schools, if not for her sudden transfer. It was a tedious prompt ("What is the role of fate and free-will in the play? Is Macbeth totally at fault for what happens to him?"), and for once, the irony of her answer escaped her as she typed against her hand-written notes.

"Britney Spears just posted an Insta where she told her father to bleep off!"

Wednesday reached for her pipe, which had been freshly filled and forgotten next to Thing. "Aren't we beyond self-censorship, Enid?"

Enid sighed. She didn't like to swear if it wasn't necessary, though that habit was more Esther than Enid. "Do you want to read it, then?"

Wednesday nearly choked on her smoke but expertly recovered. Incompetence in the face of clumsiness would only make her think they were at all alike. "I'd rather eat glass." She squeezed her fingers around her pipe, giving Thing her death stare of disapproval as he seemed to want to take her up on her word. She quite liked her bat wing pipe, custom made for her by their glass-blowing, fire eating cousin, Inácio Itt III.

Enid had longed for another enthusiastic celebrity gossip monger like herself; tempting Wednesday into such a vapid hobby seemed impossible, but she forged on. "She basically told her dad to F off. She told her mom the same thing last month." Enid swore that she could detect a flinch of interest in her roommate's shoulders. "Yanno, she could give you a run for your money in the parental hate department."

Wednesday sincerely doubted that. Besides, 'hate' was the incorrect term. She ran the tip of her fingernail against the curved edge of her bone ashtray. It rested on a turn-of-the-last-century platinum coaster. "What's her net worth?"

"Uh…I dunno, just a sec," Enid's thumbs flew over the onscreen keys. She'd learned not to ask Siri anything in Wednesday's presence after the night she wouldn't stop asking her for BTS lyrics. "According to Forbes, it's sixty million dollars."

Wednesday huffed. "Is that all?" 

"That's still a crap ton of money!" The immediate Sinclairs were only worth a mere fraction of that, and Enid was often made conscious of it by the super wealthy kids' constant flashing of their  riches. The majority of the Nightshades and the other vampires in the school could wipe everyone's asses with hundred dollar bills and not break a sweat. 'Sinclair' would never outwardly gape at anyone's things, but she found it hard not to be in awe when she was especially envious of Divina's blue Daisy Spikes; she noticed that Wednesday had them in black, sitting unworn in her closet with her other shoes. "Why, how much are you worth?"

Wednesday didn't want to say what her family's net worth was. Gomez, in his Once in a Lifetime good decision, had ditched his uranium mines for rhodium mines when she was around two years old, after it was clear that there was a glut in the market and its price was plummeting: while at the time of his mine dump and acquisition, uranium fluctuated around fifty dollars per pound, rhodium brought in nearly fifteen thousand dollars per ounce. The price currently hovers around four thousand per ounce, but just a couple of years ago their "small" haul of four tons brought their overall wealth to about four billion, half of which was put into trusts for Wednesday and Pugsley. Needless to say, the Addamses were very comfortable billionaires, though they tried not to flaunt it.

"Why did she tell them to fuck off?"

"Oh…you know, that whole conservatorship thing. People think Britney's finally letting loose after feeling caged for so long."

Whether it was all in her head (which it often was), Wednesday at times felt like she too was trapped under her parent's thumbs. Perhaps not under a strict, brain-stunting conservatorship, but their lack of engagement and Morticia's backhanded compliments felt like a prison of its own. 

But she would also be damned if she let herself be compared to Britney fucking Spears. Her one and only outlet for feeling like a normal human was probably stubbornly still at the station working when he should be at home resting up after their long session in Burlington. She shook her head and started typing again.

– prophe…cies –

"Hit me baby one more time," Enid whisper-sang terribly as she flipped through the pop star's Instagram. She looked up to see Wednesday's murderous eye and stopped. "Ohmigod, I'm so sorry."

Too late. It was in Wednesday's head now, and the best she could hope for was that a lyric or two didn't make it into her paper.

And now the song clanged in her brain as she desperately tried to chase it away...

დ

Read the rest of the scene here.

[hislittleraincloud]

Afterburn Status Update

It's fucking hot in here and I can't sleep/write/do anything but stare at the wall after that spider attack (LOL) so perhaps for the 2 people who are interested:

Yes, still working on the last chapter of Satisfying Afterburn. Made some decent progress now, after my dog passed and there's no more having to take care of him 24/7. This whole damn year, coupled with the shit with the neighbor bullshit really fucked with my creative output. But it will be finished before year's end, I believe (and I know when I want to release Part 1, but I DON'T WANT TO JINX IT so I'm telling no one until all of the scenes are placed). I'll be messing with the soundtrack, because I think I've decided on a new song for one of the more important Wenovan scenes (and I need to add in Thing's Wake song and the Britney Spears one).

But as I mentioned in said aforementioned spider attack post, I'm already working on a soundtrack for Afterburn 2. I told one fic wife that I think 2 will have a lot more world building in it, as well as history re: the outcasts in Jericho/Goody Addams/Joe Crackstone. It will be very, very Nightshades heavy. Both the newbs (Wednesday & Co.) and the olds (Morticia & Co.). I fucking love Chancellor...but I also love Xavier's father, Vincent Thorpe. Both older men will be involved with AB Wednesday in their own capacity. No, it's not that...girl is super faithful to Donovan.

I had already planned to bring Pugsley and Morticia to Jericho pre-all of the W2 leaks/filming commencement, so AB Pugsley will be attending Nevermore...with Wednesday Jr. 🐕🐾 But ABW is going to absolutely despise what occurs with Morticia. Clash of the fucking Titans there 💀

Not sure what else I am willing to say, other than there will be distasteful shit in here again, but nothing to do with sex (but there will be a fair share of smut in there too): It's the Goodmen parts that will make people uncomfortable. My readers will have to remember that these are characters, some based on or patched together from real people; real racists, real bigots, real Trump Loyalists pieces of work. And in some places I will want to illustrate how disgusting these types of people are. Some of the whole cultist bigotry thing will be addressed with Gideon and Morningsong, but the worst of it will be with the Goodmen bunch and the Breeding brothers.

Sounds like a lot of heavy stuff to cover, but I'll be sure to keep the humor in there too. Maybe some soft serve for the fic wifey.

Aight, that was squick.

Maybe more squick. Or more bawdy stuff, like the Carnivorous Plants class scene.

I guess we'll see, won't we. 👹🖤💙🕸️🚔