#strains of martial music

[free-and-to-none-accountable]

I got a very early lesson in how not-dangerous cities are b/c I was 19 when I moved from The Woods(tm) to The Big City(tm) for the first time and I was also suicidally depressed and I got it into my head that if I spent enough time wandering about in The Bad Part of Town(tm) eventually some manner of Dangerous Criminal(tm) would show up and attempt to do violence to me, which sounded like a decently rock-and-roll way to die when you're 19 years old and have a lot of untreated mental illnesseses.

So what happened was I spent a lot of free time getting drunk and aimlessly wandering around the city, where I had lots of interesting conversations with lots of perfectly nice people, which helped a lot with the suicidal depression it turned out.

[slowd1ving]

STRESS, STRAIN: THE TALE OF YOUNG MODULUS AND A FORLORN PHYSICS STUDENT ゜゜・BLADE DRABBLE

Dealing with a stalker roommate? No problem, Kafka's got the perfect solution: staying with the unapproachable and cold Blade. Teetering the thin line between sleeping on the streets and facing his rumored wrath, it sure is hard keeping your balance when the engineering student is anything but civil. gender-neutral, physics major reader paired with college au + band au (will come into play in another part I swear) see here for some basic designs for them warnings: some violence? consumption of alcohol, arguments, blade being a dick, college au wc: 6.3k

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

✧ Perhaps it’s lucky that your acquaintance Kafka finds you at your most dire of moments, or perhaps it’s your Achilles-level misfortune finally catching up to you. Dorm changes aren’t particularly infrequent, sure—but dealing with a stalkerish, obsessive roommate is definitely story-material for when you’re downing shots. Literature major Kafka isn’t one to turn her magnanimous back on whom she considers a friend, even if said friend is currently wallowing their sorrows away by complaining about the lack of available dorms to make the switch and drowning in hard liquor.  ✧ Saviour Kafka, who plays for notorious metal group Stellaron Hunters (she’s a suave electric violinist), finds this a perfect opportunity to help out the cute guitarist from the rival Trailblazers! Her deft fingers are already sending a message to her pinned contact and drummer: Bladie, finally found you a roommate. Respond. It should be okay to put two college students (in bands infamous for their tense rivalry on– and off–campus) together in the proverbial lab rat cage; after all, neither of you are aware of who the other is behind the elaborate masks. It’s not like there’s a deficit of music groups at the Astral Institute—so who will ever know? Don’t ask how she knows the face behind the pretty Venetian mask. She won’t ever tell.   ✧ Honestly, she’s not sure how the bad blood started (she helped spread the rumours). All she cares about is doing you a solid!

“You think the streets will accept me for who I am?” Even with your head slumped over your forearms and the smell of cheap vodka clinging to your clothes, Kafka thinks you look naively charming in the dim amber lights of a bar pretending to be upscale. And by naive, she means very naive—for real, how can a physics major be so gullible as to not question their roommate’s deranged tendencies until it’s far too late? It’s hilarious. 

She’d dissect how this mood is perfectly, pathetically fallacious to your situation; yet her mind is too honed in on the buzz of her phone as Blade finally replies to her text. 

“Kafka,” you bawl into a stack of papers you’d salvaged from your ransacked dorm. “What if the asphalt doesn’t like me when I’m sleeping in the streets?”

21:48 > ok. 

Kafka, being an expert at metaphorical and allegorical interpretation, translates Blade-speak easily: let’s discuss this tomorrow, please and thank you. 

“Found you a roomie,” she murmurs delightedly, watching with her hawk-keen eyes as you sit up drunkenly. 

“That was fast, even for you,” you wipe your eyes cautiously—still wracked with the occasional hiccup. “Who is it?”

“Blade. You know him?”

✧ That sobers you right up.  Of course you know him. Nicknamed Blade for how cold and unfriendly he is, you’ve personally seen him in engineering lectures: making people shiver from just his gaze alone, and on one notable occasion, making his project partner cry after his infamously harsh criticism of her proposal. It’s common knowledge that he practises various martial arts, but the rumours that circle around him like vultures whisper of how he uses them on the streets. But whilst you doubt the reliability of the latter talk, it’s hard not to picture his hands dripping sanguine when his eyes glint the same shade.  ✧ Honestly, how bad could it be? It’s not like you have any other options unless you want to wake up with your roommate standing over you while you sleep again. After her, you doubt he’ll be any more of a walking nightmare.  ✧ Perfect!—Kafka is a bit too enthusiastic at your reluctant nodding, but you cast it from your mind as you pack your stuff with Caelus and Stelle standing behind you like a pair of twin guard dogs. One good thing about this is that you can finally take your guitar with you (rather than storing it safely at Dan Heng’s room) to the apartment—because of course he’s too good for the dorms. Though, after experiencing your batshit roommate, you really can’t blame him for avoiding this area.  ✧ Maybe, just maybe, the rumours about him being insane too are false and you can finally have a peaceful night’s rest without fearing for your life. 

Yeah right. You hate him. You genuinely hate the man over in the room next door. The passage of time on your phone indicates it’s only been a week since you showed up with five boxes of belongings and a nervous smile on your lips—but the agony you’re going through prolongs this mental period to eternity. 

Sisyphus embodies futility for evermore; as do you when you’re knocking on his door for the nth time to beg him to quiet down on his drums. The timings are so meticulous and calculative that you’re sure you could work out a linear sequence to this situation if you tried. 

Exhausted from the laboratory job you’re juggling on top of band practice and reading on Dirac notations? No problem—Blade’s busy expressing how you feel in terms of loud crashing and banging that you hate to admit is (very technically) skilled.

Recalling your first encounter—your nervous smile and his cold indifference as you moved into the room next to his—it’s not hard to imagine that he’d be inconsiderate of you. Those red eyes had slid right past you like oil on water: judging you to be not worth his time to even greet properly. In fact, it’s like he’s trying to chase you out so you leave him alone for good. 

The deep mahogany door swings inward, and you’re left facing an unimpressed, scowling Blade. With the way he’s clutching those drumsticks, you’d think he was about to skewer you—but you’re a bit too preoccupied with how he’s only sporting a pair of loose navy trousers that cascade languidly from his hips. 

“What do you want?” Laconic as ever, he gets straight to the point with his question—as if he can’t possibly fathom why you’ve come knocking. Just like this morning, just like last night, the night before, the night before yesterday’s—every damned night is a problem. 

“For you to invest in soundproofing,” you scowl back, too tired to keep up the fragile facade of politeness. At least when you practise with the electric guitar, you can easily hook it up to a pair of headphones and protect the sanctity of silence elsewhere. Actually, you don’t think he even knows your guitar exists with how considerate you are of your asshole roommate. 

“Why should I?” he crosses his arms, looking directly down at you. If you looked closely, the slight stretch of his lips resembled a smirk—but you’re definitely mistaken, since the man never so much as smiles. The cold expression accompanying his crude words sums up his thoughts: if you don’t like it, beg Kafka for whatever other solution she has. 

His inky hair sways from where it’s tied back, and you resist the urge to yank it until he sees sense. 

“For better quality of life,” you grit out. 

Those eyes turn into sardonic crescents. “I’m good.”

And the door is shut. 

✧ Fortunately, you’ve managed to fall asleep in the middle of the practise room before on countless occasions; tuning the heavy thumping comes easy after a while when you’re exhausted and practically dead on your feet. The problem is during the day—doing your assigned reading and writing up results from practical work comes much harder when you’re constantly accompanied by the rhythmic percussion of a madman who favours metal. It gets so rowdy that you seriously consider whether he’s part of the Stellaron Hunters and knows you’re a Trailblazer—it would make sense, after all, if he was just feeling extra spiteful. However, from the trembling students claiming to be his previous roommates, this is just common treatment: him basically telling them to beat it and never return.  ✧ Two can play at that game. Upon complaining to Kafka of his (rage-inducing) musical tendencies, she suggests that you get back at him with your electric guitar. Don’t ask her how she knows, no she’s not trying to instigate and watch the chaos—Kafka attempts to reassure you. You don’t trust the shady writer one bit, but both Data Analysis major Dan Heng and Environmental Studies student March 7th give the plan the go ahead. If you’re not mistaken, you can hear a touch of personal grief in the normally composed Dan Heng’s voice—something so poignantly irritated you wonder what the story between them is.  ✧ Contrary to his nonchalant attitude, it’s clear he’s annoyed by the loud chords that buzz through the apartment. As soon as he picks up his drumsticks, you plug the guitar to the amps and thoroughly mess with him. You know enough from Caelus’ repertoire to place each genre of music Blade starts to play (which is limited to metal). No problem—you play various styles that decidedly aren’t metal and are so discordant with his own tempo you can’t help but keep a grin on your lips. He’s much too stubborn to knock on your door, but the irritated twitch of his eyes in the kitchen belies just how aggravating this is. And when you know he’s scrawling down notes for his classes, that’s when you’re practising your metal riffs and playing around with the fretboard. If you’re feeling particularly nice, you’ll play along to some darkwave gothic music—something relatively more calm—but these occasions are few and far between. 

Chromatic eyes pierce your back while you deftly chop vegetables for your dinner. Really, now’s the best time to do work: when you’re busy with cooking and not insistent on plaguing him with jarring melodies. For someone so logical when it comes to his meticulous classwork, he sure doesn’t seem it as he leans against the counter on the other side of the kitchen—sipping water and just staring at you while you Julienne an onion. 

You shoot him a withering glance as you toss the slices into a bowl on the side, and he glares at you with a matched fervour. If it weren’t for the fact that you literally don’t have anywhere else to go—Caelus doesn’t even have a couch for you to sleep on—you’d have moved out a long time ago. 

It’s a rustic space: sage green cabinets filled with charming, mismatched plates and cups; glossy white counters that house various herbs and the occasional plant; a lacquered table in the middle that has a vase holding a singular dried flower. An orange lily—still retaining a vibrancy that conceals just how long it’s been there. You wouldn’t have expected this style of decor from him, but at the same time, you doubt it’s his influence so much as Kafka’s. 

“Do you have a problem?” you probe icily, turning back to where you’re slicing a carrot into thin matchsticks; if there was a god somewhere, you’d hope it could transfigure the man behind you into the root vegetable you’re enthusiastically chopping. 

“No.” And when he speaks again, he’s right behind you. There’s a sink to your left, but he’s much too close as his breath ghosts over the nape of your neck. Affronted, you turn around; only to watch as his eyes widen minutely, glass of water slipping out of his grasp and spilling down your front. 

“You dickhead.” Your hands angrily grab at his collar—unheeding or perhaps uncaring of his reputation for violence as you feel the cold seep into your skin. You’re seething; for someone with such good reflexes, this is a new level of low in attempting to chase you out. Or perhaps it’s revenge for finally getting under his skin. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

It’s a little too late when you realise the position you’re in: skin showing through the translucent material, breathing shallow from your infuriation, face glaring right up at his. 

“Sorry.” His voice rings out insincere—and there’s that damn faint smile still toying at his face as he looks directly at you with that heavy gaze. “My hand slipped.”

You shove him back, too disgusted to acknowledge him any further. Maybe if you turned back around, you’d see the tiniest pricks of red on his face as you tossed your soaked shirt into the washing machine—leaving you in a damp vest while you continued cooking for yourself. Maybe if you looked back at least once, you’d see the amusement in his eyes as you maul the bok choy on the cutting board. 

Those are maybes.

There’s particular things you know for certain. One, you despise him and his existence. Two, he abhors you and your entire being—because why else would he be so insistent in making you leave out of your own volition?

✧ It’s the time of year that you hate: joint engineering classes so you can cover the materials aspect for your physics studies. Well, it’s not like you hated it from the very beginning—you’ve hated it ever since you realised that once again, you’d have to be in the incorrigible presence of Blade. While he did finally install some soundproofing in his room, he’s taken it upon himself to linger wherever you’re present. Typing up your notes on the deep maroon couch with a mug of lavender tea perched on the coffee table? He’s in the window seat, looking over a thick reference manual for tensile strengths. Going to meet bassist Dan Heng so the two of you can play around with various lines for your next song? He’s at the convenience store you briefly stop at, gazing at you before he glares at your friend. Practising a slow solo in the living room (it’s really got the best ambience)? He’s tapping out a beat that you can very faintly now hear—one that surprisingly goes with the electrifying chords.  ✧ Point is, you’re ignoring him and his presence—while he’s inching ever closer. It comes to a head at the lecture hall; you decide to sit in the third row, since it’s both far from the back (where he usually frequents) and it doesn’t make you look like a beg. When you glance at his predestined seat, it’s empty—unsurprisingly as he’s there usually a minute before the professor—while the seat next to him is taken by a girl you’ve seen before. Despite his horrible personality and the (probably true) rumours surrounding him, there’s a few stragglers who genuinely want him. And you genuinely want those people to seek help because it’s clear something went wrong in their lives for them to be thirsting over a man who looks like he eats cigarettes for breakfast.  ✧ He comes in late, as you expect, but you freeze as he places his bag down next to you. Aghast, you can’t help but stare; yet for once he’s not meeting your eyes, and it’s far too late to make a scene and move elsewhere—not when the professor’s just arrived and is keen to start the lecture for materials. He doesn’t talk much, but you’re so distracted by his presence pressing slightly into your sides that you forget that today the professor’s deciding on the pairs for your projects—mouth agape, you stare in shock as she assigns them based on who’s sitting nearby. To be generous, she says, yet there’s nothing generous about this arrangement as his mocking eyes meet yours. He knew, you seethe, storming out of the hall right as the class wraps up. 

“I hate him.” Your molars grind bone-against-bone as you harshly press angry chords into the fretboard. “I hate him so so so so much.”

“Who are you talking about?” March 7th—in charge of the synthesiser—glances first at the bassist to your side, then back at you. Her eyes are wide in sympathy, yet it’s useless in the face of your despair. 

“Blade.” Poetically, the word is accompanied by the deep twang of Smoke on the Water as your fingers move mindlessly on your precious baby. What, your roommate?—she queries. No, a pet fish—Caelus responds, but you tune them both out. 

“He knew the professor would assign groups like that,” you groan. “That’s why he sat next to me.”

“He’s definitely trying to get you to leave his apartment out of your own will,” Dan Heng’s smooth cadence is somewhat soothing—and his conjecture is one you’ve come to yourself—but the accompanying baseline he’s playing to the song makes his theory sound comical. “But he won’t screw up his own project like that.”

You sigh, and the melody falls apart as you bring it to a grinding halt. 

“Believe me, I know just how much he values his projects.” Your head throbs upon thinking about that poor girl sobbing, and the bassist coughs to stifle a laugh. 

“What did he say that one time? ‘Your vapid idea would be better used on death row than as a functioning building’,” Stelle—the vocalist and also the only Psychology major you know who doesn’t unnervingly stare at you—imitates the deep reverberations of his voice, and you’re astonished at how it’s recalled verbatim (down to the exact adjective).

“I’m surprised it got round that far,” you suppress a smile—after all, it’ll be your head on the chopping block next. “You should’ve gone into theatre like Caelus did.” 

What a waste of talent, you shake your head mock-ruefully, which quickly turns to true woe as you realise just the predicament you’re in. 

✧ It’s not a complicated assignment. Well, it shouldn’t be: designing a sound structure based on the whims of the architectural class (whom you loathe); except that Blade is notorious for being a severe critic for civil engineering partnerships—like seriously, out of all hills to die on and it’s civil engineering. You begrudgingly create a new contact for him in your phone; a digital space just for him, which almost makes you throw up at the thought.

(+2 unread messages) <Dickhead> (new contact) 10:11 > library.  10:11 > east block, 20 minutes.

You stare incredulously at the chat, which is neither phrased as a question nor a request but an encrypted demand. The fuck? Infuriated, you take the break between your reps now rather than later, swilling down water while you irritably type out a reply. 

No can do. < 10:15 I’m busy. < 10:16

The reply comes less than a minute later; three dots animating themselves into existence while you wipe the sweat off your face with a towel. This prick. Well, it’s not so much a reply as an acknowledgement of your words—because he doesn’t reply, but rather your phone starts buzzing and you fumble while looking at the expletive lit up brightly on the screen. 

You’re sorely, sorely tempted to press the red receiver on the device. 

“What do you want?” you scowl, and you hope it translates through your voice that you’re revolted by his mere radio presence. 

“Where are you?” He ignores your question; voice vibrating low through your headphones, and you can’t help but shiver, just a little. Even through the thick towel, you can still feel crescents being formed in your palm from your nails—you sincerely wish you were throttling him instead. 

“None of your business.” 

There’s a budding migraine blossoming to life in your temple as you finally hang up. You think that’s the end of it—after all, it was literally yesterday that the groups were assigned. 

But when you shoulder the gym door open—skin still damp and warm from your shower, clean clothes sticking ever so slightly to laved skin—there’s a sleek car parked outside, and you frown when Blade opens the driver’s door. 

“I’m going to report you for stalking,” you grit out, pressing your body to the cool glass of the building. “How the fuck did you know where I was?”

“Kafka,” he replies simply, and of course, that crazy woman was the one who viewed your private story and sent it to him. “I’m picking you up.”

“No you’re not.” Seriously, he thinks you’re that easy to convince—

“I’ll shut the fuck up with the drums for these two weeks.” 

It’s almost miraculous how quickly you slide into the passenger seat. 

✧ You’ve never been in such close proximity to him before (if you don’t count that day in the kitchen). At least, voluntarily. When you close your eyes and lean back against the headrest, you can smell the faint, woody scent of his cologne. It’s different from the putrid tide of Axe the average engineering student drowns themself in—rather, it’s got the deep undertone of oud and something sweeter. You don’t expect it; maybe if he smelled like first impressions, he’d stink of blood and a dumpster fire.  ✧ Don’t fall asleep—he remarks, and you can feel his eyes on you briefly. Eyes on the road, prick—you retort, but your own lids are still tightly shut. Therefore, you don’t see how his gaze traces the remaining water droplets from your shower: how his hands linger on his gear stick so he can feel the emanating warmth from your damp thigh.  ✧ He freezes. Gross. He doesn’t like anyone, and only tolerates the rest of the Stellaron Hunters since they’ve seen him at his lowest and yet still find ways to bug him. And you. He wasn’t expecting you to last as long as you have. He certainly wasn’t expecting you to irritate him in your own way, and actually manage to aggravate him enough to force him into soundproofing his room. Actually, he still doesn’t know why you did that. He doesn’t know why his heart picked up slightly at the sight of you in that soaked shirt. And in the end, he still doesn’t entirely know why he chose to sit next to you for that lecture instead. It’s to annoy you, he decides. No point in deliberating too much about it.  ✧ It’s surprising that the two of you don’t immediately argue over the project; some eco-facility for sports that surprisingly was chosen unanimously by the pair of you. Eyes flitting to each other and back, it was a miracle you both had the same idea somehow. And it’s surprising when despite your lack of experience in civil engineering like this (you usually opt for mechanical on projects like these), you carefully consider the missing parts in his outlines—security cameras, sound systems, and tiny edits to the structure to really amplify the architecture.  ✧ He doesn’t mind your presence. That’s what shocks him. As you doze off with your head pressed into the crooks of your elbows, he doesn’t reprimand you like he would with anyone else. Instead, he places the material reference guide down and stops considering cement foundations. Before he gets the chance to poke your forehead, your phone buzzes against the table—lighting up with a name he didn’t think he’d see.  ✧ Dan Heng. He knows you’re friends with the guy, but there’s a burning sensation as his eyes watch the pop-up turn into another message, then another. What does he want? In real time, there’s a particular irritation that blossoms with each new notification. 

<Dan Heng> 20:19 > Are you still up? 20:19 > My roommate’s going to move in with his girlfriend, so you’ll be able to…

The message is cut off, but Blade isn’t stupid. He knows exactly what the implication suggests, and there’s a certain coolness in his eyes as he stares the message down. Isn’t this what he wanted? Yes, this is precisely the ending he hoped for: you moving out and him getting his space back to himself. 

But the issue stems from Dan Heng. He can’t have that. He can’t have you moving in with that man of all people. Anyone else would be fine, he insists to himself. 

Dan Heng. Dan Heng. Dan Heng. 

There’s a certain hypothesis he’d like to test. With your guard down like this, he snaps a photo of you with the drool leaking onto your sleeve—sending it directly to you. Just like clockwork, your phone lights up once more with a message. It’s not ‘Blade’ that’s texting you. 

<Dickhead> 20:20 > [photo.jpeg attached]

He grits his teeth, clutching his textbook until his fingers ache from the strain. No, he won’t give that bastard the satisfaction of taking his roommate like this. 

He’ll play nice. When you find someone who works this efficiently with you, while managing to hold their ground under his intimidating gaze, it’s hard not to want them to not scurry away. 

Eat shit, Dan Heng.

✧ Somehow, mercifully, you manage to complete the project with that weirdo. It’s strange—he’s surprisingly more cordial than ever. And with his inky hair pulled into a loose bun, glasses perched on his straight nose—it’s hard to imagine he’d ever made that poor girl cry in front of everyone like that, but you’d witnessed it yourself. So with a sigh, you remind yourself that he’s just as much of an asshole as the rumours say. But, staring at him so relaxed like this, these two different Blades are hard to ever merge.

“Something on my face?” He’s still writing with his glasses sliding down his nose. He sounds irritated, as per usual, but the tiny smirk painting his face lets you know that no he’s not irritated, he’s just being an arse just as always. 

“Yeah, pen,” you mutter, looking away as he finally glances up at you. When you glance back at the desk where your laptop precariously shows the still-unfinished presentation slides, he’s gazing up at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes. 

It almost puts to rest the image of a dickhead. 

“There’s no pen, though,” he purrs, voice low while he rests the manual back on the table. “I’ve been reading all morning.”

Nevermind—he’s as much of an asshole as he regularly is. 

“Who knows,” you comment offhandedly, slowly sliding a blue biro your way as soon as he looks back down. There—you attempt to inch forward to draw on his face, but he catches your wrist from across the table between you. 

You freeze. Shit, you screwed up. With how relaxed he is, it’s getting easier and easier to forget the rumours of his bruised knuckles that follow him like a shroud. His eyes glance coolly at you, then at the incriminating weapon within your fingers. 

“What are you doing?” Maybe he’s the questions first, beat up later kind. 

“Getting revenge.” Shameless, you think, but definitely not as shameless as getting told to effectively shut up with the drums yet having the audacity to keep going louder. 

His lips part, and your eyes nearly stray to the pink colour of them. Then, he smiles—something so cynical and disturbing you can’t help but shiver and twist your arm out of his hold, all so you can watch him askance. 

“I can see why people find you scary,” you shudder, tapping your biro on a square notepad. 

“And you don’t?” An innocuous question, but one that almost sounds accusatory. 

“Nah,” you make a disgusted noise, like you’re trying to suppress vomit. “You’re just a prick.”

In the end, that same prick ends up rolling his sleeves upon your request so you can litter blue ink upon his forearms. With how pale he is, it resembles delicate ceramics painted with cerulean landscapes. And while you do include etched illustrations and swirling designs, you make sure to include several phalluses dotted around—just so he lives up to his contact name. 

“Wow,” he remarks sardonically. “Maybe you should quit physics and join the liberal arts programme.”

You ignore him, taking a few shots of your handiwork and sending them to Kafka, captioned I feel like this truly reflects his personality and making sure all the tiny dicks are in full focus. 

“Maybe I should,” you shrug. “Then I wouldn’t have to deal with you, at least.”

“Likewise,” he responds, but it’s not as satisfying to think about you quitting as he thought it would be. 

It’s stupid. He finds that he doesn’t want the ink to wash from his arms, not so soon. 

When you log into your account to touch-up the presentation, you spot the comment he left back in the library on the presentation slides—timestamped to the exact twenty past five. 

17:20 > Maybe if you stopped staring at me, we’d be done sooner. 

It’s the longest sentence he’s ever typed out to you—but that’s exactly what makes it so galling. 

go fuck yourself < 22:31

22:31 > ooh you want me so bad aha

You pause, staring incredulously at the text, then to where the bathroom’s situated. The water’s definitely running.

… < 22:32 damn this idiot’s really getting scammed and hacked < 22:33 crazy < 22:33 [feynman’s twin] sent laughing emoji < 22:33

22:33 > on the daily lmao 22:34 > same two old man passwords for everything

Types like one too < 22:34

22:35 > right?? 22:36 > we should be friends btw 22:36 > [Blade.] sent contact silver-W

Dang he really put a period after than name too < 22:37

22:37 > top ten edgelords 22:37 > [Blade.] sent laughing emoji

[feynman’s twin] sent laughing emoji < 22:37

It’s not until the morning when he’s looking over the (surprisingly well-done) slides that he finally notices the string of (highly unprofessional) messages that he definitely did not write. 

His head throbs and his eye twitches as he reads through them—burning holes through the wall separating him and you. He hopes you receive the subliminal nightmares he’s so graciously sending you. 

It’s a fiercely deliberated decision. With a heavy heart, he finally presses [backspace] on the typo next to his nickname. 

He only hopes you won’t notice. 

(Silver Wolf notices—immediately screenshotting the new handle [Blade] and sending it to you.)

✧ Good things come in threes. Getting through this project, not getting beat up by that nerd, and getting through the presentation smoothly. By that, you mean you do most of the speaking while Blade clicks through the slides. However, contrary to all expectations, his voice comes low and rich—neither stumbling through the knowledge nor forgetting the important parts. It’s so shocking you can’t help but stare at him; something he definitely notices, judging by the self-important smirk he sends you.  ✧ Perhaps a little too good. The pair of you leave the lecture hall separately—after all, it’s not like you want to be in his presence any longer, and he doesn’t particularly want to be in yours either. But you do want the sweet energy drink that’s been chilling in the shared fridge for the past few days: as tantalising as the very nectar of the gods.  ✧ It’s when you enter an alleyway shortcut that you witness her—your old roommate. Vaguely, you recall she used to have a crush on Blade (a match made in heaven if there ever was one); perhaps that’s why she’s inching towards you with a pipe that is tetanus’ wet dream—so grimy you think you’ll immediately die if you’re struck by it.  ✧ All this over him?—you think with disgust as you try back out of the alleyway, only to collide with the towering body of her boyfriend: some guy unfortunate enough to be entrapped by her pretty face and definitely not her personality. She doesn’t want you, and he (aforementioned: Blade) doesn’t want her either. It’s rather tragic, but woefully you can’t spare any pity for them: not when you’re about to get beat and for what? A successful presentation with Blade?  ✧ They’re amateurish enough that you manage to evade them for a minute, but the alleyway’s too narrow to slip past them, and you’ve never been in a fight like this.  ✧ You’re cornered when he appears: some twisted knight he is.

“You’re late,” you heave, bruises on your knuckles and that man’s face. 

“You…” Blade trails off as he sees the blood spatters on your clothes, and his expression twists into one he’s glad you can’t see—not when his broad shoulders face you in an impenetrable wall. The two idiots—Tweedledee and Tweedledum, judging by how disturbingly gullible they are—stiffen immediately upon his timely arrival. 

He’ll handle it like he always does. 

But it’s certainly strange. Why does he feel so much angrier than he does normally?

✧ It’s late afternoon: dusk barely kissing the rooftops of the city, stars just about peeking from the violet firmament. You didn’t ask questions when he made enough space for you to slip out the alleyway: heart lodged in your throat as you quietly sat down at the local café with blossoming pain in your ribs and fists. Stupid, you were stupid to think that crazed girl would ever leave you alone.  ✧ Maybe it’s counterintuitive to feel safe when he steps into the small building. He smells faintly of blood: a terrible, metallic odour spilling onto his clothes and flesh. But beneath that, there’s a lingering scent of that woody oud—you can’t help but sink into it.  ✧ They won’t bother you ever again—he murmurs as the door jingles behind both of you. You didn’t kill them, did you?—you mutter back, half-sarcastically. No, but it probably hurt quite a bit for them—he shrugs. “Let’s go home.” ✧ Home. He says that, but there’s still that offer from Dan Heng to move in with him—one you’ll probably accept. Blade may have saved you, but he’s still a dickhead who has made numerous attempts to kick you out. 

“Ow, fuck,” you hiss as he dabs antiseptic on the various cuts on your hand. It’s well into the evening now, and you’re currently sitting on the bathroom counter with your injuries on full display. 

So infuriating. You glare at the man standing in between your legs—unscathed completely. Worst of all, there’s a smug smile on his lips; whatever worry he might have had over you has completely dissipated. 

“You couldn’t let them hit you once?”

“Bitter much?” he returns easily, swabbing another cotton ball with alcohol and pressing it against the large cut on the side of your forearm. It stings, but you grit your teeth and bear it—much too annoyed with him to show any more pain. 

In this position, the resentment you feel towards him turns faint; a veil seems to obscure the burning sensation. 

“You talk too much,” you seethe. “What happened to the prick who kept his mouth shut and ignored me?”

Tendrils of his jet-hued hair brush your cheek as he inches forward. “If you like, we can go right back to that—playing at my whim included.”

He hasn’t felt like this in years—back when he was still a boy named Yingxing and unmarred by the burdens life would eventually place on his shoulders. 

“Let me do it myself,” you argue back. 

“Nah.” Silver Wolf will pay for calling him an old man. “You won’t do it properly.” 

Another brief kiss from the alcohol against your bloody knuckles, and this time you can’t hide the slight wince on your face. It takes quite a lot of self-restraint to not dent the tweezers—he should’ve done so much worse to the two who tried this, besides beating the shit out of them and getting Kafka to land them behind bars. 

“That rod probably had tetanus on it,” he shrugs, rummaging around in his disused first-aid kit for plasters and bandages.

“Yeah, I thought that too,” you shudder. It's this moment of casual, same line thinking that strikes you as being far too strange. He's so close you can feel each puff of air when he exhales: practically scalding the bare skin stretched over collarbones. Too close—and if he keeps talking like this, as if he’s no longer disgusted by your presence, you won’t be able to deal with it. 

“What’d you do to her?” he questions, but it’s not the ‘no wonder she attacked you’ tone—rather than that, it’s like he’s trying to prompt you into distraction. 

“This is actually your fault,” you scowl, irritably casting your mind back to when she used to talk your ear off about the man standing here. 

“How so?” Nonplussed, he starts rolling the bandage across your arm—evidently, he’s experienced with this sort of thing. 

Stalker roommate. Stalker roommate has crush on engineering maniac. Stalker roommate sees that your new roommate and engineering maniac are one and the same—you summarise, too tired to give the specifics. He sees the way your lids flutter closed from exhaustion; for once, he’ll use Kafka to get more of the information you omitted. 

“Honestly, you two freaks would be perfect for each other,” you murmur absentmindedly. At that, he pulls the bandage tighter against your skin and you draw in a pained inhale. 

“You should try stand-up.” His voice is thick with revulsion, and it’s quiet for a few brief moments as he gets started on patching up the scrapes left on your back. You’re sitting on a stool now: unable to see his face but awfully mindful of how his hands brush over the skin layered over your scapula. 

“You still haven’t thanked me.”

“Thank you, my aggravating saviour,” you say, much too insincerely. “But that reminds me that I’ve got good news for you. That should suffice as a symbol of my gratitude.”

What is it?

“One of my friends has a room free, so I’ll probably be able to move out soon.”

The worst part is, he knows exactly who this friend is. His hands freeze on the band-aid he’s smoothing on your skin; too absorbed in his murderous thoughts to notice how you stiffen at the prolonged gesture. He’s not jealous; these are merely stirrings of friendship—this ugly, amorphous thing writhing in his gut and condemning him to senseless anger. 

“That’s not good news,” he breathes, and it’s a little too quiet as he finishes wrapping the final bandage around your bruised ribs. 

For the first time ever, Kafka receives a text from Blade that doesn’t consist of just one word. 

<Bladie> 20:33 > I need advice. 

Oh, this is interesting. 

What are friends for?—she coos, making sure to show Silver Wolf the glaring achievement in Blade’s range of text vocabulary. 

He’s clearly been on the rear end of bad news; while for her, on the contrary, this just means her scheme is moving along very nicely.  

[jokeroutsubs]

An interview with Bojan Cvjetićanin and Nace Jordan in Jana magazine, published 10.10.2023. Featuring a very special shoutout! 😁

On the couch with Joker Out: about the big changes in their lives

Still good, sober boys

We’ll play this and then we’re off – to switch off

The time we have with them is tightly limited, but that’s appropriate for stars of their kind. They are the most popular musical group right now, and they’ve thoroughly conquered many hearts far beyond both Slovenian and Balkan borders. At sold-out concerts, Finns are swooning because of them, Poles, Serbians, Croatians and Spaniards are fainting, not to mention the girls back home. No one prepared them for this kind of craze, but they’re holding up pretty well – they’re still humble guys with good manners, which can (also) be seen in their polite greeting and relaxed chatting in front of their rehearsal space, a comfortable hideaway somewhere between Ljubljana’s warehouses with an unappealing blue door.

Floating into their sanctuary, you almost hit your head on a collection of hanging bras with various affectionate messages written on them. A few more steps, and we plop down on the couch with Bojan Cvjetićanin and Nace Jordan. Jan Peteh and Kris Guštin (damn, he’s tall!) are busy with another camera, and Jure Maček is nowhere to be seen.

How’s your health doing with your (as it seems if you look at the crazy number of concerts all around Europe) pretty exhausting life? How do you take care of your physical fitness?

Bojan: By working out.

Nace: Well, you and I work out, the others only do it a little.

Bojan: Well yeah, she asked us.

Nace: So: we work out a lot, we play badminton, I run, we go to the gym and hike, Bojan also does mixed martial arts.

You’ve found yourselves at a turbulent stage in your career, and like you’ve said before, you cannot be fully prepared for that. What about mental preparation? Do you have to pay extra attention to that or do anything you've never done before?

Bojan: Yes, we have to rest. We haven't had any rest ever since everything became much more intense. My mind and body are now really begging to switch off.

Nace: I agree. Just the other day, we were talking about how we haven’t truly rested since the pre-Eurovision performances. Two- and three-day trips don’t count.

So you’ll only be able to turn off for a bit, after your big concert in Stožice?

Bojan: That’s right. Well, we maybe planned our break a little poorly, because we’re going on a holiday together. (both start laughing loudly)

Nace: Everyone has the same stunned reaction that you did.

You really have to love each other and have a good time together, that’s all I thought. Can you reveal where you’re going?

Bojan: Far away, somewhere warm. As to whether us going together is smart, we’ll tell you when we come back. If we end up needing another holiday after this holiday, then we didn’t make a very wise decision.

Since you really hang out with each other so much, do you perhaps understand any better why some bands get into fatal quarrels or even break up?

Bojan: We definitely understand it a lot more. In a short time, I’ve realised that this rock and roll lifestyle presented to us by rock legends (myths, stories, Hollywood) is truly something that is untenable in the long term. If we look at all the most famous bands, they actually existed for a very short time.

Nace: And, as an interesting fact, most of them broke up while on tour.

Bojan: You can’t do rock and roll and be devoted to your music, concerts, travels, if you’re constantly under the influence of any substances (drugs, alcohol). You really can’t do that, because neither the human body nor the mind are made to withstand this kind of strain, sleeplessness, pleasure, dopamine. All those legends either died young or the bands broke up. Sure, they did a lot, left a permanent mark, but at what cost? We’ve realised that if we want to enjoy what we’re doing, we have to be sober, and you truly enjoy yourself a lot more if you’re sober and feel physically and mentally ready and cultivate friendships. I think that this way, we’ll remember a lot more after a few tours than many rock legends do in their longer careers. How much can you even remember if your brain isn’t even with you on the same stage?

I see that you’re drinking plenty of water, and we remember you, Bojan, from Eurovision, when you were walking around with a bottle of water and blowing into a straw. What was that for?

Bojan: It’s a technique to warm up your vocal chords, based on the principle of blowing into a slightly wider silicone straw in a water bottle. You blow into it, in the correct way and because of the water in the bottle, a negative pressure is created that puts your vocal chords into the most natural position and it works like a massage for them.

Did you discover this for yourself or was it recommended to you?

Bojan: I had never paid special attention to my voice before that, I’m not a trained vocalist, but luckily I naturally developed the correct technique. Otherwise I would’ve lost my voice long ago. So, on the stage, this mechanism luckily developed in a very positive direction for me, which was also confirmed by singing coaches and the doctor I went to for my vocal chords check-up. A phoniatrics specialist, a wonderful guy, helped me during Eurovision. Before the Eurovision performance, my voice gave in a little due to nerves, so I was constantly in contact with a doctor – and we didn’t even really know each other – who gave me advice over the phone. Then, at the first sound check, everything opened up and sounded like it should. It’s really interesting what happens with your voice, it gets incredibly affected by your mental state. Your vocal chords can be perfectly fine, but if your mind is not in the right place, your voice won’t work either.

I also went to get advice from singing coach Nataša Nahtigal, who really helped me a lot. I especially needed that preparation from a psychological point of view.

Did the other band members also need coaches for anything?

Nace: Me and Kris also visited Nataša, because at the beginning we thought that we’d be singing the backing vocals live on the Eurovision stage. So we also practised with her a few times. We also had rehearsals with a choreographer for the optimum stage performance.

We’re having this conversation five days before your biggest concert yet, in Stožice. Does that require any special preparation?

Bojan: It’s a special concert, because it’s the first time we’re encountering the organisation of something this big; it is, after all, the only arena in the country. It’s a lot for us, Magnifico also told us that he was kind of in the dark the first time, but now they’re acclimatised to it. It’s a different type of preparation: we have to prepare the show, the lights, the stage appearance …

Have you even internalised what you’ve managed to do, all the places and the number of people you’ve played to in the past few months (from Ireland to Great Britain, Finland, Norway, Belgrade, Zagreb, Vienna, and now in December, you've got Amsterdam, Madrid, Barcelona …)?

Bojan: I think that will be a task for the upcoming holiday. When things just keep happening, you’re in this cycle and don’t even really differentiate between one peak and another, so we need to come down a bit to start retroactively comprehending what really happened. Because it’s really wonderful. We were in cities and countries we’d never been to, and then we were there – to play our own sold-out concerts. We absolutely never thought anything like that would ever happen to us.

Nace: Often it’s only when I come home from this kind of tour that I think to myself: wow, look at where we were! We’re playing on a stage where world legends had played before us! Now, in the club in Helsinki, Foo Fighters and AC/DC had played there, among others. Any musician would wish to play there, let alone sell out that concert.

When you walk around these European cities where you have sold out your concerts, do people already recognise you on the street?

Bojan: It’s pretty bizarre, but now they’ve really started to. I think that on this Nordic tour there truly wasn’t any place we went to without at least someone recognising us – either on a train, on the street, in a restaurant, at the airport. Foreign fan culture is a little different, as they get prepared to meet us, in a way – for example, they know when we’ll be at the airport, and they wait for us with gifts, they don’t just come to take photos with us. They bring along our merch shirts, various things for us to sign, they give us gifts. Fans make a lot of things on their own – bracelets, dolls, there are a lot of drawings, crafts; I have two knitted Joker Out scarves at home.

Nace: In Finland we got a lot of knitted socks, hats …

Hand-knitted socks?

Bojan: Yes, with a Slovenian and Finnish flag, for example.

The Scandinavian youth are clearly well-versed in that.

Bojan: Let’s go, Slovenian youth, start knitting Joker Out stuff too! (laughter)

And what is it like to walk down the streets of Slovenia? Can you go to the store in peace?

Bojan: It’s nice to walk down the streets of Slovenia, but we truly always get recognised, that’s a fact, it’s not as inconvenient in stores as it can be when you’re out for drinks, when you constantly feel like someone is eavesdropping next to you.

How difficult is the rockstar life?

Bojan: It’s really nice – every time we’re on the stage, the audience rewards us with a really nice energy, you can’t compare that to anything else, but like any profession, ours has negative sides as well, with the biggest difference being that you’re constantly in the public eye. Very few things are truly personal – you also have a hard time judging for yourself what’s private and what’s not. It’s more of a mental game with yourself – that’s the hardest part of it all. As well as not sleeping, because you travel a lot.

Are there any big disappointments or unexpected things – perhaps that some fans get “carried away” or that not everyone is as well-intentioned as you thought?

Bojan: Absolutely! You suddenly find yourself not only belonging to a home crowd, but also becoming an internet hashtag. The internet has no limits, people have no reservations there, they hide behind a nickname. Each of us has definitely had a few of these moments that shocked us, that’s why we’ve started to pull back from social media.

That’s probably pretty tricky: for the sake of advertising and contact with fans, you have to be present on social media, but meanwhile you’re aware that you need to take a step back for the sake of your health. How do you stay on the safe side? What’s your strategy?

Nace: Primarily, we’ve all stopped reading Twitter, the comments … We have to maintain a certain distance.

Bojan: To be completely honest, I’d like to find someone who could handle my personal profile on social media. It also bothers me that you really waste a lot of time on social media and subconsciously create a lot of unrealistic expectations, because you’re constantly swiping through people’s perfect lives, faces and situations, it’s all quite absurd.

Do you want to influence teenagers in this area, to pass any important messages on to them?

Bojan: Yes, find some wonderful analogue way to follow us and delete your social media.

So, knit a Joker Out scarf or socks instead and listen to their music – that’s pretty analogue. Then, you can also do a charity auction of your fans’ knitwear.

Bojan: Exactly!

One small revolutionary move would also be if concerts or gigs at various parties started earlier. Us slightly more mature citizens also like to go to concerts, but we also like to go to bed a little earlier.

Bojan: I can say that after our Stožice concert, people will be able to be asleep by midnight. But actually, when we were abroad, we got used to gigs starting very soon – sometime between seven and nine in the evening – and the party is definitely not any worse because of that.

You say that you’re full of creative energy. Does your creative process continue under the covers too, do you have notebooks on your nightstand?

Bojan: All the ideas come to me just before I go to sleep. The most recent song Sunny Side of London also happened on the last day before we went to the studio – I couldn’t sleep and I came up with those base lyrics while in bed.

Even though your latest song is in English, due to most of your songs being in Slovenian, you’ve unintentionally become ambassadors of the Slovenian language as well.

Bojan: It was never our goal to become ambassadors of the Slovenian language, but we consciously decided to sing in Slovenian at Eurovision. It means a lot to us, and we hope that our fans will accept that we want to widen our listener base and that there will be some more songs in English because of that. I think that people all around Europe or even further singing twenty of our songs in Slovenian is already a lot, and shows that we’ve done our job. In the future, we’ll create in foreign languages a lot, but we’ll also stay loyal to Slovenian.

A lot of your TV appearances can be found translated to English on the internet. Is that your doing?

Bojan: No, the credit for that goes to a group of fans from all around the world called “Joker Out Subs”, who follow our videos and concerts and translate into quite a few global languages (recently even into Hebrew). They’ve already translated a huge amount of our content, and they do it voluntarily. They’ve also connected with each other in that way, and they’ve told us that 20 of our fans, who met online because of us, booked a house together for our concert in Amsterdam (in December). They’re all coming to the concert and they will stay there together.

Nace: A lot of people have connected like that because of us, which is very nice.

What’s it like at home? Is everything the same at home despite your stardom?

Bojan: Yes, it’s all the same – go mow the lawn!

Nace: I, for example, still drive my grandmother around to run her errands.

And your grandmother listens to your songs?

Nace: She’s definitely listened to some, but I doubt that she’s playing our entire discography. (laughter)

Bojan: Oooh, mine plays it every day, she goes through everything 150 times!

Have you made any changes to your menus?

Bojan: I’ve started eating vegetables – bowls (various healthy ingredients, served in one bowl), Nace got me into that.

Nace: Isn’t it nice to savour something together that’s healthy and that we all like? (Kris pipes up from the background, saying that Nace has gotten them all into Asian food.)

Translation of the captions on the photos:

1) The special friendship with Finnish Eurovision representative Käärijä continues. Together on Finnish stages in September.

2) Bojan loves Swedish girls, says the writing on his shirt.

Translation cr: Joker Out Subs

EDIT: to celebrate the JokerOutSubs shout-out, we prepared a giveaway for Tumblr! You can read more aboout it here!

[ophernelia]

Imogen Sumner

Age: 19

Birthday: June 22nd

Hometown: Oasis Springs

Species: Human

Sexuality: Demisexual

Current Status: Alive

Partner(s): Lou Howell

Originally from Skyward Palms, Oasis Springs, Imogen Sumner is the only child to Dallas and Cale. Imogen spent most of her time alone growing up in Oasis Springs. Though she had the occasional company of her cousins, Imogen struggled to make friends in school and was often viciously bullied and ostracized by her peers. Often returning home with cuts, scrapes, dirt or dried blood on her. Though Imogen would typically silent in school, she was often targeted by her peers. They found her unsettling, odd, and monotoned. This mistreatment would often continue throughout the summer whenever Imogen would go to camp. Ultimately, Cale and Dallas opted to take more family tips instead. However, during a summer trip to visit her grandmother Hattie in Copperdale, Imogen met her soon-to-be lifelong bestfriend Lou. For the three months the Sumner’s would visit Copperdale every summer, Imogen spent all her days with Lou. Though she was still quite shy and quiet, Lou adored her company and she adored his. The two remained in touch throughout the year. Often talking every single day for hours upon end. During her teenage years her grandmother fell sick and came to stay with her family in Oasis Springs temporarily. However, the temporary stay became permanent and soon-enough Hattie passed. During that time Imogen lost touch with Lou and was forced to deal with her grief alone. Only speaking to him sparingly that summer, it put a bit of strain on their friendship. After the passing of her grandmother, Imogen's family moved to Copperdale and stayed in her grandmother's home. She and Lou reconnected upon her move to the city. Navigating an entire new social scene her senior year of high school was no easy feat, but at least she would have the company of Lou.

Fun Facts:

Imogen is musically gifted. An exceptional pianist and guitar player, with a heavenly set of pipes to match.

Imogen has a deep love for books and plants.

Imogen is the third youngest of the entire Brice clan.

Imogen is very monotoned. She likes to think of herself as a black Wednesday Addams.

Imogen has a deep love for the Twilight series. She would have chosen Jacob over Edward.

Imogen is professionally trained in martial arts.

Imogen's theme song is I'm Low On Gas And You Need A Jacket.

[tinywitchgoblin]

Heya!

If you are still doing ship requests I would love to participate.

I'm a 24 year old female who has a degree in film focusing on producing and currently work as a medical receptionist.

I am someone who is a bit more on the shyer and friendly side when I first meet people, but when I open up I am sarcastic, talkative, incredibly loyal and even become the mom friend, it does also take a lot for me to trust someone. I am an ENFJ, Ravenclaw (With Slytherin and Hufflepuff as a close second), I would also be a Daughter of Athena.

My hobbies include, Reading (Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Mythology, dystopian, etc.), Writing, Ice Skating, Martial Arts, D&D, Playing Video Games and Graphic Design (More so Image Manipulation), on a rare occasion photography and listening to music (wide variety of music but mainly Kpop, Rock, R&B, Alternative and Pop.)

I am 5ft 3in, and more plus sized. I have just past shoudler length red and orange hair, icy blue eyes and wear glasses when I can so my eyes don't strain. My style is a bit all over the place as I usually only wear shorts, a tshirt of a fandom I love or it would be a nice stylish shirt with heeled boots. Or I would get fully dressed up. But heeled boots are the main thing I would wear as well as a lot of jewellery.

I am so excited to see who you would match me with!! And I hope you have a wonderful day!! 💜💜

Of course, you too! 💜💜

I ship you with...

Echo!

Considering that Echo is also a Mom Friend(tm), you and he got along pretty well from the start. He loves your caring but sarcastic personality, and he couldn't help but fall for you. Once you open up to him, he sees aspects of your personality that remind him of Fives, and he only wished you would've been able to meet him.

One of Echo's favorite things to do with you is train. Having had ARC trooper training, he's quite skilled in martial arts, so he really enjoys sparring with you (if you're open to it, of course). He's especially proud when you get a hit in, or even knock him flat on his back. That's his girl right there.

Echo loves learning about all of the types of art you partake in. From filmmaking, to graphic design, to photography, to your sense of fashion, he's all over it. He'd never really been given the opportunity to express his creative side (he din't even know he had one until he met you), so being able to learn about so many art forms is new and exciting for him. Echo especially loves when you involve him in your art, because it's his favorite way of you showing him that you love him.

-

Thanks for reading! If you want a ship request like this one, drop it in my ask box, and don't forget to reblog 💚

[mystalwartheart]

name. Jill Valentine

nickname(s). Jillybean, JV, Val, Regina, The Master of Unlocking

title. Branch Captain, Special Tactics and Rescue Service Los Angeles-Pacific and Senior Field Agent, Bioterrorism Task Force

P E R S O N A L .

morality. lawful/ neutral / chaotic / good / grey / evil

religious belief. Private, like a lot of Jill's personal life. She is either mixed or part of a diaspora though, so her spiritual beliefs likely reflect that blending of cultures.

sins. lust  / greed / gluttony / sloth / pride /envy/ wrath

virtues. chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience/ justice

primary goals in life. To be the best person she can for the people in her life, and to "protect and serve" where possible. She hopes to play some small part in building a better world for the Year 2000 and beyond.

languages known. English, Tahitian, German (fluent), Korean, Spanish, Dutch (some). Do please note her mun is not fluent in all these languages XD

quirks. - She's a young woman from Los Angeles. It's the 1980s. Do the math XD If you see this side of her, it means she trusts and feels comfortable around you.

savvies. - Physical strength, agility, martial arts, military tactics, operational strategy, criminology, leadership, navigation, maritime and civil engineering, stealth, the ability to sustain deep cover, lockpicking, explosive ordinance disposal, combat diving, classical piano, surfing, skateboarding, snowboarding, cooking, singing

P H Y S I C A L .

build. slender/ fit / athletic / curvy / herculean / babyfat / pudgy / obese / other

height. 172 cm (5 ft 8 in)

weight. 56 kg (123 lb)

scars/birthmarks. None to speak of.

abilities/powers. - Natural immunity to mutagenic viral strains such as the Clay Progenitor Virus and its descendants.

F A V O U R I T E S .

favourite food. Honestly? Probably hamburgers: They're fast, compact and filling. Hinano is right up the street from her, and In-n-Out is all over the city.

favourite drink. Smoothies!

topping. Your basic pepperoni.

favourite colour. Blue

favourite music genre. You'll most likely catch her listening to pop, but Jill is an ex-rock groupie from LA and her sis is in a punk/chamber pop revival band. She has harder stuff in her library, and don't forget this is also the era where there's a lot of overlap between those genres.

favourite book genre. Literary fiction

favourite movie genre. Anything lighthearted or thought-provoking. Jill doesn't like being reminded of work off the clock, so nothing super dramatic or angsty.

favourite season. Summer

favourite curse word. "Damn" or "Shit"

favourite scent. Giorgio Beverly Hills

F U N S T U F F .

bottom or top. Top as a general rule, unless you're really special to her.

loud burper or soft burper. Uh, you won't hear anything because that's uncouth and not ladylike??

sings in the shower. yes /no

likes bad puns. yes / no - More like tolerates. You'll get an exasperated groan, but she'll still probably smile at least a little.

their opinion on the mun. "She cares a lot, is very loyal and dedicated but she works too much. She needs to take care of herself and rest more. We're alike in that way."

Tagged by @red-man-of-mustache

Tagging: Anyone who wants to!

[armadillo1976]

Things I had to look up in Ted Lasso S3E02

…or didn’t have to look up, as the case may be: the very moment Beard showed Ted the YouTube video, my husband and co-watcher said, ‘Ohh, so he’s Zlatan Ibrahimović,’ saving me a search. Ibrahimović is a Swedish star footballer who plays for AC Milan (so in Italy, which will come up again in a sec). Ibrahimović actually speaks about himself in the third person, is famous for his over the top behaviour, and is an impressive martial artist

In the show, Zava is said to be leaving Juventus – a club in Italy! Which Ted doesn’t know. It strains credulity a bit, even for Ted, not to know it, but serves as a springboard for Ted to come up with “Cacio later, Pepe,” a play on cacio e pepe, a deservedly popular Roman pasta dish (and now I miss Rome)

Ted starts to say “Good morning Viet-“ when he’s interrupted, which is a reference to Good Morning, Vietnam that I’m pretty sure everyone would recognize in their sleep, but I blanked on when the film was actually made so I checked quickly; it’s 1987; somehow it feels like it should be older (Vietnam War ended 1975-ish)

I had no idea but apparently 11:11 (“or 23:11 if I’m at a military base or Euro Disney”) is a wishing time, i.e. a magical/ lucky time of day. Ted and Beard and Dani sharing a superstition is very nice and cosy. Ted only ever apparently leaving the UK for Europe in order to visit Euro Disney is depressing but, hey, horses for courses I guess

“What’s it like being the boss of your own Keeley Street Band?,” Ted asks Keeley. It’s (I think?) a play on The E Street Band, Bruce Springsteen’s backing band

Ted follows it up with Clamato Clamato (said like tomayto tomahto), which I’d never heard of, but this is very funny! Clamato is a canned drink, a clam-flavoured tomato juice. Love this joke

Dani hasn’t been this nervous to play in front of someone since he was “in El Chapo’s youth league,” and I did know who El Chapo is (former Mexican drug lord) but I went to check if he ever ran a football league. Not formally, or at least not that I can find, but the cartels are massively intertwined with day-to-day life, so actually I don’t know how much of a joke it is (it’s not a joke to Dani, but to us/the audience? idk)

Fish Bowl, as the context suggests (but I had to check) is a drink/cocktail that I think it’s safe to say Roy Kent wouldn’t touch

The music in Ted Lasso is wonderful but I don’t know nearly enough to have opinions, with these two neat exceptions in this episode:

As Keeley’s photoshoot starts, the song playing in the club is Ready To Go by Republica (On the rooftop shouting / Baby I’m ready to go) – that was their only hit apparently, but what a hit it was. Interesting choice of a song here

I laughed at the soundtrack to Trent walking into the clubhouse to universal hostility: 'Cause he gets up in the morning / And he goes to work at nine / And he comes back home at five-thirty / Gets the same train every time (by the Kinks, and I knew that song, so yay me, but the Kinks are FAMOUS famous, right?). The rest of the lyrics go, for example, And he likes his own backyard / And he likes his fags the best / 'Cause he's better than the rest. Not reading too much into it, but it’s such a fun choice!

[for S3E01, my notes are here]

[talesofpassingtime]

‘Weber passes by us amid a romantic landscape, conducting the ballads of the dead amidst weeping willows and oaks with twisted branches. Schumann follows him, beneath the pale moonlight, along the shores of silvery lakes. And behold, here comes Rossini, incarnation of the musical gift, so gay, so natural, without the least concern for expression, caring nothing for the public, and who isn’t my man by a long way — ah! certainly not — but then, all the same, he astonishes one by his wealth of production, and the huge effects he derives from an accumulation of voices and an ever-swelling repetition of the same strain. These three led to Meyerbeer, a cunning fellow who profited by everything, introducing symphony into opera after Weber, and giving dramatic expression to the unconscious formulas of Rossini. Oh! the superb bursts of sound, the feudal pomp, the martial mysticism, the quivering of fantastic legends, the cry of passion ringing out through history! And such finds! — each instrument endowed with a personality, the dramatic recitatives accompanied symphoniously by the orchestra — the typical musical phrase on which an entire work is built! Ah! he was a great fellow — a very great fellow indeed!’

— Emile Zola, The Masterpiece

[ifeelhuman]

the turning point of act 2, (what is likely to majorly influence the finale) happens here—and the next episode—but it starts here. arcane episode 14 / arcane season 2 episode 5. let’s hear it.

after being noticeably absent from last episode, we finally shift the focus back to Vi. last we saw she was at the bottom of a ventilation shaft in Zaun, punched in the gut with the back of Caitlyn’s gun. earlier in that episode (episode 3 of the season) Vi pleads and asks Cait to promise not to change—not *for* her but because everyone else in Vi’s life has changed. it’s interesting, because it was phrased *almost* like it was for her. of course, at the breaking of that promise and Vi’s refusal to have a child suffer if she has any say so… everyone in her life has changed and we find her at her rock bottom.

Vi has (presumably) been pit fighting probably since near the beginning of the recent timeskip of months. like nearly all of this season’s episodes, we open to a music video montage that shows Vi’s time during these months. she’s sporting a new near-all black look with dark face paint to match—a goth-adjacent aesthetic. that one dude that was a part of Caitlyn’s original strike tweak before martial law (don’t know if we ever got his name, haven’t looked at the credits yet because while he is somewhat alright, he hasn’t been present enough or cool enough yet to have me check) i suppose sought out Vi, knowing how strong she is. it’s difficult to tell in the montage how much he knows (more) about Vi during this time but one can gleam that he knows she’s suffering (obv), has a heavy and unhealthy relationship with alcohol (dude doesn’t get any lines in this episode and we see he eventually leaves her to sulk in her own inebriated state), and likely triggered in some way by Caitlyn. kinda wish we knew more about him or he got more screen time (seemingly being reserved for the final act of the show) but that would also take away from our core characters somewhat and with only 9 episodes per season at less-than-an-hour episode runtimes, i won’t complain. overall i trust the writers.

Vi’s fall from nigh-stability has her transition from being a real champion in the pit to being too drunk and angry to keep up and falters in the ring. she comes to when !! surprisingly !! Jinx shows up and compliments her sister’s look (genuine, too). Vi nearly crushed her windpipe and certainly considers snapping Jinx’s neck at the sight of her but Jinx’s insistence that Vander is alive and needs *their* help (plus seeing Jinx cry or at least leak tears from having her neck strained so much + lack of oxygen) is enough to have Vi let her go.

we’re shown that Vi is aware of Jinx’s status in the undercity as symbol and the look on Vi’s face when she sees Vander illustrated next to Jinx’s graffiti… Vi’s gotta be going thru some rather complex emotions. that *this* is the person the underground has decided to rally with and decided is their gateway or vision to peace and/or sovereignty. if it was any other person Jinx said, Vi might’ve (a) killed Jinx outright or (b) chosen to do so after seeing that mural. but because the person in the mural is the same person Jinx mentioned + the lack of mischief that Jinx is creating (and Vi having no purpose or furies destination) Vi continues to tag along.

Jinx leads Vi with an accompanying Isha through sealed up mines. upon seeing the claw marks on the wall (and the fact that this is a place no one really goes to anymore so Jinx could easily take out Vi here) Vi becomes distrustful once more and of course walks with hesitation. i think the conversation that first takes place here is the first time in the show for Vi to verbalize to Jinx that Vi knows how “crazy” Jinx is by referring to her psychotic state when using the word ‘delusions’ to describe this quest or trek they have found themselves in. they end up calling each other “psycho” in reference to where both of them have ended up in status and allegiance—but it’s so unfair BUT understandable here. of course it would be considered unthinkable for Vi of the part to become an enforcer (no matter how brief her tenure was) but Jinx doesn’t know what led to that decision and how she has a huge hand to play in that. just as much as Vi doesn’t know the years Jinx was left without her and descended into severe mental anguish and disorder.

skipping ahead, they come across a letter from Vander to Silco in what’s probably Vander’s old home/hideout/shack. the contents of which Jinx comes to mention could’ve helped avoid all the trouble in the given circumstances leading to episode 1 of the series. feeling the softness and slight vulnerability from Jinx, Vi almost comforts her with a hand on her shoulder. but no, she can’t do that. after all this time pushing away the idea of them ever reconciling, what does that say to her constitution to and how frail it may be? what about their last confrontation and Vi saying to Jinx that she “killed” Powder? if she let herself see Jinx as part of her family now it may be too much to take. for now.

in the letter we get no real clues to who the woman that Vander is speaking of, that inspired the series of events that lead to episode 1… that is until Vander finds them. or Warwick, i suppose i should say. earlier, in a brief sisterly skirmish, Isha got involved biting Vi and that led to her smacking Isha off of her leading to a bloody nose—just like Powder in episode 3 when Vi lashed out in grief and anger. but that was enough. it was established last episode that Warwick is drawn to and summoned by blood (the or scent of which). so he’s been tracking them while they’ve been tracking *him*. very cool idea put into play here. but back to things.

Warwick lunges and nearly flays Isha if not for Vi stepping in and having a rather impressive fight. one that she not only walks away from but with seemingly no scratches—even Ambessa didn’t walk away from her fight with him unscathed. in the midst of this, Jinx pleads for Vi to hear her. to really hear her when she says that this is Vander. in one of the strongest emotive moments in this show (and there’s quite a number of them), Vi lowers her arms, her gauntlets, her guard (!!) and embraces whatever is to happen next. i think Vi would’ve been content or fine with anything taking place here, imo. she’s been at her rock bottom. she’s alone with no one. fights and drinks all day to forget and just get thru the hours. she lost her sister. Caitlyn. Vander. Ekko isn’t following her like before. she’s totally alone. i think Vi was partly hoping Jinx was wrong and that this beast would tear her apart. she was okay with death at this moment. but she probably didn’t expect herself to be okay (maybe not ready) for Jinx’s honesty to prove itself, to show that she wasn’t lying. that Vander *is* back. she says his name, for what she probably thought would be the last thing she’d ever say. but it isn’t.

in that moment, we, the audience, are shown something that no one character can see or is privy to. the episode, at the moment of impact between Warwick’s charging and Vi’s acceptance, transitions to a time before the show. before the circumstances that led to the bridge revolt from episode 1.

we are properly introduced to Vi and Powder’s mother, Felicia—the woman we now know was the once we saw deceased and Vi break down from. and from the letter. there are some overtones and maybe a little bit of (sexual) tension between Vander and Felicia. i get the feeling that they mayyyy have had a thing in the past but that’s not really important—just character complexities that color the scene further (he even gives Vi her name—something unsolicited but seemingly received well from Felicia. further implying there level of closeness). at The Last Drop, Felicia, Vander, and Silco talk about the dream of Zaun and the realization (and actualization) of which. it’s a really happy and naive time… Felicia reveals her pregnancy, is (by her own admission) oblivious to how to be a mother and children in general, and that she is as a result relying on Vander and Silco to make things happen. to cultivate a community so they can have future generations thrive… starting with her children.

and while that didn’t take place, because the family present circumstances a wondrous and unfathomable takes place. in the dark and dust Jinx sees Vander/Warwick and Vi in tender embrace. crying but standing still, she doesn’t even consider interrupting or joining in until her sister, for the first time since episode 3 of season 1, extends a hand to Jinx. seeing her as family, because she is—even if only by proxy (in Vi’s eyes). Isha joins in and we have a lovely and hearttouching tableau of this family been torn a part now back together. they’re all mighty different from who or what they were before but together again.

the episode, nearing its close, cuts to another scene of characters we haven’t seen for a hot minute. Salo, healed by Viktor, is visiting the HexGate underground failsafe and in the acquiring of Hex(batteries(?)) disturbs the Arcane and it relinquishes Jayce from whatever plane of existence he has been occupying during the timeskip. Jayce is battered, older; his physiology is somewhat altered and directly affected by the Arcane. he is even scarred—we’re not told or shown what he’s gone through but we know *something* monumental in influence has significantly affected him. Jayce talks with Salo and surprisingly, Viktor. Viktor is able to occupy anyone’s mind/body after healing them with the Arcane a la Horde Prime and his clones in the She-Ra Netflix animated series. thru this, we and Jayce learn that indeed Viktor has been making efforts to finally fulfill his promise to heal the undercity and in his eyes, it’s going well. he even invites Jayce to see the fruits of his labor. but Jayce. can only see the Arcane, HexTech as a curse. something to be destroyed. in response, Viktor says something truly interesting. “i see it now. you too have touched the Arcane. your mind suffered.” there so much to this line. but i want to focus on the fact that this implies that Viktor’s current existence is him “touching” the Arcane and *he* seemingly didn’t suffer (that we know of)… but Jayce did, for whatever the reason or circumstance. (maybe his hammer attacking the Arcane in whatever direct way he attempted to in episode 3 of the current season led this this suffering; it was a provocation) Salo, now in control, goes to return to Viktor with his Hex batteries in tow. but were shown just how serious Jayce is in his conviction and brutally murders Salo in one brief move. the start of the end of HexTech.

now… the story i didn’t touch on yet from this episode. Mel, Elora, their disappearance/kidnapping and what’s going on there. we get confirmation that Elora is gone, killed by members of Black Rose 💔. a favorite minor character of mine :(((. Mel even called her a friend, not an assistant showing that she really cared for her. but Mel isn’t alone, even now. in what she’s told is an oculorum, a place to hold or imprison false prophets, is a man. upon a few exchanges and stepping into the light of the room we are introduced to and Mel recognizes him as Kino, her thought-to-be-deceased brother. they talk and Kino reveals that “they” came for him and the reasons for coming for him and Mel as well. we learn that this isn’t Kino as the episode goes on, but this next part we get confirmation is a truth (because “Kino” could’ve been lying all this time for their own ends or means). apparently, Ambessa fell in love while going through a town on conquest and had a child out of wedlock. “Kino” says that whatever this child “inherited” is of terrible interest to their captors. as they talk Mel is drawn to this pattern on the walls and adds to it. perhaps a language or phrase of language left incomplete. “Kino” guides her until she realizes he isn’t who he appears to be. in a moment courage and bravery, Mel bashes this individual’s head into the wall, revealing the power of Black Rose to be all around her now. the person too, shifts between several identities (including Jayce, Ambessa, and most notably, Mel and the young girl from Mel’s flashback that was decapitated by Ambessa) before landing on the likeness of Mel. this person thru voiceover and summoned chains to bound Mel, confirms that Mel is this sought-after child and in her darkest moment… Mel’s power finally reveals itself. in a display of pure golden energy she blasts of the chains off of her in a spherical beam of light, hopefully freed. but now we know what the gold in her body and jewelry have been hinting at. she didn’t survive the attack on the councilors out of pure chance. visually, we’re shown her gold body jewelry glow a light before the missile lands. this could’ve just been a way to show her noticing the attack right before it hits (and it was), but we now know it was so much more than that. she likely saved Jayce with this power too without knowing it. damn.

i loved this episode. the only qualms i’ve really ever had with this show is slight pacing. there’s only 18 total episodes and idk… Mel is one of my favorite characters and so far she’s been utilized wayyy less than season 1 and has had even less appearances. this is the only time she shows up in act 2 and i understand why but it’s saddening. but !! we got so much good out of it. looking forward to next episode.

[valleyfthdolls]

What about the clubs? Not every character in them, but the groups as a whole

Hang on lemme google the clubs again

Cooking club: The cooking club gets extra credit for their involvement. They’re kind of exclusive: kids with bad reputations are not allowed in their club. They’re otherwise the same- pretty tight knit, very positive, and they have a lot of respect for Amai.

Drama club: Only describes the students who engage in the drama program year round and not just during show season. Some of the members are very hardcore and look down on people who won’t engage year round (such as Kizana and, to a lesser extent, Tsuzuro). As of 2019 (when my rewrite takes place), they are performing Yotsuya Kaidan, one of the most influential Japanese ghost stories of all time. They’re not very close- in fact, they tend to be quite competitive, even though they do bond during production.

Occult club: A religious group with a focus on spiritualism. Believes the school is haunted or at least has some kind of a negative energy. (They are right.) Most of the occult club has decent reputations, but due to the stigma around their religious practices, they aren’t fully trusted. They’re quite tight-knit, and a bit like a coven of witches.

Art club: The art club has a pretty good reputation among the school because their art is used for the clubs and programs at school’s promotional posters, which livens the atmosphere of the school. It’s fun by Shoku (cooking club temp leader)’s little sister Geiju, who has presented masc/androgynous for enough of his life that people have kind of forgotten he’s a girl (butch he/him lesbian). Geiju is a little weird, but he’s well liked anyway. He has no reservations against having disliked students in his club, unless they show a disrespect for art.

Light music club: Well, if Miyuji’s bandmates don’t like you, you’re not getting in, but even if you’ve never looked at a musical instrument in your life, Miyuji has no reservations about letting people in. She has a sort of “the more, the merrier” view of it. The band as it is is pretty close, but they’re also very welcoming and will take new members under their wing without a fuss. They get on well with some of the other alt kids at school (like the gyarus- especially Hoshiko, who’s rokku gyaru- and the occult club). If Miyuji doesn’t like you, word will spread among the other alt students.

Martial arts club: It’s kind of the same, but Masato (Budo, club leader) had more of a complex about having to be a teacher to everyone. This is what drove Emiri (Raibaru) away from the club: when she stepped down as leader, she was planning to stay, but it strained her relationship with Masato because he suddenly felt totally responsible for her. Generally respected.

Photography club: Mostly photographs scenery. Will photograph whatever people want for a price. Frequently commissioned by info-chan, despite her also finding them a massive nuisance. They find it necessary to find proof of every rumor. From a gameplay standpoint, they would be an easy way to bully a student- gossip to them and let them find the proof.

Science club: The roomba is their pet. They named it wan-chan (essentially they call it “doggy”). They’re less deranged mad scientists and more a group of total nerds. Mostly computer scientists. Yaku is either a TV head kid with a working screen or a protogen furry. Either way I think he made the screen himself and he’s not allowed to wear either to school so he settles for that visor.

Sports club: Don’t care about these people. To be frank I always forget they exist.

Gardening club: Uekiya is kind to everyone, but I figure she’d probably also not allow club members with bad reputations.

Gaming club: Also a bunch of massive nerds. Actually an e-sports team and compete nationwide. They’re also pretty competitive, but in a friendly way. That being said, they’re not really close, and new members fit in about as well as anyone else.

Delinquents: Were bullied in middle school and adopted the delinquent persona to protect themselves, but they are an outright criminal gang. In the game, Sakyu says that they protect bullied students, but not only do we never see this, they actually do the opposite: they physically harass and assault classmates for getting too close to them, berate and insult everyone who passes by, and when Ayano tries to become their friend, they assume it’s because she’s being bullied and needs help, and they ridicule her for it. I would lean into this: the delinquents became your stereotypical boy bullies to protect themselves against bullying. The bullying thing is something I’ll get into in a sec.

Student council: An entirely formal relationship. They’re very hard on new members.

Gyarus: A group of social but highly defensive and combative girls. All of them having been bullied for their styles (as well as Kashiko for being half black, Hoshiko for her weight, and Kokoro for being trans), they’re quick to become defensive against others. They’re VERY tight knit and bordering on a polyamorous relationship of some kind. It would take a lot to fully fit in with them. They beef a lot with the delinquents.

Clubless students: Hosho, Hazuki and Otohiko (Horuda, Hazu and Otohiko) stick together mostly because they’re all really shy and bullied students. Hosho hangs around the art club, but is too shy to draw, Hazuki likes sewing, but the only other seamstress in school is Ayano, and Otohiko I feel likes crossword puzzles a lot which is a very niche thing to like. All of them are very forgiving of students with bad reputations- Otohiko has a reputation as an easy target, Hosho as a freak and a creep, and Hazuki as an unsocialized weirdo. Toga and Kyuji are not really friends with them, but they’re all kinda at the same spot in life, so there’s some solidarity there. Kyuji and Toga are kinda close, though.

The rainbow kids: they’re there! In my rewrite :) Yui and Haruto are lowkey bullies.

As for the bullying thing, I think it’s been mentioned that in the main game, there’s supposed to be 5 levels of bullying so here’s what I imagine that like. Most groups engage in the bullying, all feeling justified in doing so. Content warning for increasingly more traumatic bullying.

Level 1: Students start gossiping. The gyarus will cut the victim off if they were friends and the delinquents will become more aggressive. The photography club will look for proof that the rumors are true. Domino effects will begin among friend groups- one student dislikes the victim, which makes their friends dislike them, which makes their friends dislike them. The victim will be removed, if applicable, from the gardening or cooking club.

Level 2: The victim will be removed from any clubs. They will begin getting pranked and having their belongings stolen. Notes will be left in their locker.

Level 3: Bullies will begin interacting with the victim physically: classmates will push them out of the way and trip them, delinquents will threaten them, etc. They will begin to write on their desk.

Level 4: Bullying turns physical. Delinquents will beat the victim if they see them.

Level 5: At this point, the victim will withdraw from school or worse.

[wyrmfedgrave]

Pics: A bit of Dark Humor, only some of it being Lovecraftian.

No commentary needed...

1915: HPL Output - Part 2.

Intro: Continuation of Howard's "(The) Ballad of Patrick Von Flynn", which was 1st printed in HPL's political mag The Conservative - in 1916.

Text:

Then they started (upon) England & my heart beat quick with pride, As about "...British perfidy"¹ they babbled & they lied.

I thought we Irish could invent the rankest Billingsgate,² But wondrous are the fishy yarns these Dutchmen³ can relate!

My friends that had come with me were so moved with martial ire, (That) they (crowded) round (a) rusty stove to argue & perspire.

I grew so patriotic that I took my hat in hand, And shouted " (Salute the) Kaiser and the dear old Fatherland!"

Be that we'll lick (those) Brits within a fortnight⁴ sharp, And join in one triumphant flag, the eagle & the harp!⁵

Then all began to fraternize; Mc Nulty & von Bohn, O'Donovan & Hunster- berg, von Bulow & Malone.

In Bacchic⁶ bonds our pact we sealed; in harmony serene, We sang at once "Die Wacht am Rhein"⁷ & "Wearing of the Green."⁸

Old von der Goltz picked up a brogue;⁹ in Dutch young Dooley sang; Amid Prussian & Hibernian¹⁰ strains the ancient rafters rang!¹¹

Now all at once, a magic... crept into my bones, And my... voice burst forth - in Prussian tones!

I felt a strange sensation & in fancy (I) seemed to see, Instead of dear old Shannon's¹² banks, the gently rippling Sprec.¹³

No, not the Spree¹⁴ (do) I mean, but that which... flows, Through (the) Deutschland('s)³ grassy leas,¹⁵ where war & culture grows.

(Alas!)¹⁶...Where am I now? (And) what conflict am I in? Do I belong in Dublin¹⁷ town or back in Berlin?¹⁸

A week ago my son was born; his christening not far off; I wonder will I call him Mike or Frederick Wilhelm Hoff?

(It's) hard indeed for one like me to know just where (I'm) at; I wonder if my name is Hans or if it('s) still Pat?

But let me bore you all no more; the proper course is clear. I'll slander¹⁹ England all I dare & reason never hear.

A loyal 'neutral' I shall be in all my words & work, And never speak except to praise the Dutchmen & the Turk!²⁰

Footnotes:

1. Usually means someone who's "deceitful" & "dishonest."

But, it can also be somebody so dangerous they are "treasonous" & "disloyal."

2. Once, the name of the world's largest fish market - which was in London from 1850 to 1873.

Being that Lovecraft hated seafood, I imagine that he's going for the "foul" stench of such a place.

3. Dutchmen once described any folks from Germany, Switzerland, Austria & the Low Countries - Luxembourg, The Netherlands & Belgium.

Now, it's the preferred term for people from The Netherlands alone.

Dutchland once referred to Germany only.

Now, it's used to describe speakers of the Germanic languages - Germany, Flanders, Austria, Switzerland & The Netherlands.

4. A fortnight means a period of "14 nights" or "2 weeks."

This is because the Anglo-Saxons counted time spans by "nights."

5. The German eagle is a symbol of the sun, the life force & the highest God.

Strangely enough, the German coat of arms uses a black eagle with a red beak, tongue & feet on a golden background.

As for the Irish harp flag, it's a symbol of resistance to British rule since the 1800s.

Strangely enough, it was seen as such a powerful emblem - that the British actually banned it for a time!

6. Bacchic is anything related to Bacchus, the Greek god of wine!

This ancient god was worshipped with drunken orgies.

So, It's not surprising that this god is mentioned.

In its original form, "Ye Ballade" is written as if the narrator is pretty drunk!

7. "Watch on the Rhine" is a patriotic German song written in 1840 by M. Schneckenburger.

It was originally inspired by an earlier poem, "Rheinlied" written by N. Beck- er in the same year.

Generally, "Watch" is sung to music composed 7 years after its writer died!

8. "Wearing of the Green" is an Irish street ballad lamenting the repression following the Irish Rebellion of 1798.

Its lyrics claim that "they are hanging men & women for the wearing of the green."

"Wearing green" supposedly made one invisible to leprechauns!

Since its original writer is unknown, the best known version is from play- wright Dion Boucicault.

These lyrics were 1st found in his 1864 play "The Wicklow Wedding."

9. Brogue has 2 different meanings from 2 older words:

A. The "outdoor shoe" or "boot" mean- ing is from the Old Norse brog, "leg covering."

B. The "accent" meaning is from Irish barrog, "speech impediment."

Nowadays, it refers to a distinct local accent - especially an Irish or Scottish one.

10. Hibernia is the Latin name for Ire- land but, it was taken from old Greek geographical accounts.

During his exploration of Northwest Europe, Pytheas (Greek sailor) knew Ireland as Ierne.

Tacitus (Roman historian) is the 1st to use Hibernia.

This spelling was influenced by Latin Hibernus, "wintry land."

11. Rafters weren't people sailing down rapids - at this time.

Instead, the rafters here are sloped beams that transfer the roof's weight on to the load-bearing walls.

This allows buildings to remain stable & withstand wind & snow loads.

That they "rang" only means that they "echoed" the song being sung by the Irish men.

12. The Shannon is the largest river in the British Isles.

It's name is shared with the Shannon Pot (a large pool), far in the North of Ireland - where it begins its South bound journey.

Strangely enough, the "Pot" is actually connected to other pools in the area - via Shannon Cave system...

The story is that Sionnan (the "wise" goddess) lifted the cover off a well - which promptly erupted!!

Then, the new river flowed on South, dividing Ireland in two!

13. Sprec seems to refer to the Old English ("Anglo-Saxon") word of ge- sprec, "the power of speech!"

This describes cheerful people who make jokes, trying to make others feel comfortable.

14. The Spree is the main German tributary flowing North into the larger Havel River.

Strangely enough, just above the city of Spremberg, the Spree splits into 2 temporary streams!

In Berlin, the Spree is part of the local trade network.

15. A lea is an "open area of grassy land" better known as "a meadow" or "a field."

16. Alas means "an expression of pity, sadness", "disappointment", "regret" or "concern."

17. Dublin ("black pool") is the capital of Ireland. It's nicknamed "The Pale (City)" & "The Big Smoke."

This city has long traditions of literary & cultural history.

Weirdly enough, Dublin holds 2 types of mummies!

There's preserved bog bodies & Saint Michan's 800 year old mummy, who reaches out of his coffin - to shake your hand!!

18. Berlin (West Slavic "swampy?") is the capital of modern Germany.

It's nicknames are "The Grey City" & "Athens on the Spree."

Weirdly enough, Berlin hosts plenty of strange things to do - from guided ghost tours to museums of unheard- of 'things' & even off-menu cocktails!!

19. "Lies told to damage anyone's or anything's reputation."

Here, Britain's reputation is called into question.

Weirdly enough, that's all that the narrator plans on doing!

It's as if the Irish were unable to even plan & mount any other kind of violent resistance...

But, of course, we know that Howard was trying to put everyone (who wasn't Anglo-Saxon) down - to fit into his 'race's' created caste system.

20. During WW1, Turkey was under the control of the Ottoman Empire - which sided with the Central Powers.

In the early years of the WW1, Turkey fought defensive battles to strangle the Russian war effort & tie down British troops & war materials.

The Ottomans did this because the Central Powers promised them control over some Russian territories.

But, they lost their gamble & the war.

The Turkish fought & won a war of independence in 1919, concluding the end of the Ottoman Empire.

After a few changes in government, the Republic of Turkey was born on October of 1923.

Criticism: < "Hybrids & Hyphenates" by Rob Brown.

Lovecraft was a writer whose political & social commentary have become foder for learned discussion.

For anyone who's interested in Ho- ward's personal writings, they're full of problematic bigotry & imperialistic politics.

Both permeate most of HPL's works.

Although, most of his personal aspirations came from classic English masters, Lovecraft was widely read enough to have perused thru various translations of ancient thought.

Among them, some 'fantastic' Irish literature.

Yet, Howard would only highly praise the Anglo-Irish writers, loyal subjects of the British Empire!

Cultured folk set apart from the lower- class Irish immigrants that HPL knew in his native Providence.

One particular nasty bit of work, was Lovecraft's racist poem "Ye Ballade of Patrick Von Flynn" by Lewis Theobald, Jr - one of Howard's many pen names.

HPL wrote it in a mocking & drunken 'Irish' slang.

In it, Lovecraft accused the Irish of colluding with the enemy Germans!

Further, Howard presents the Irish as an inferior & traitorous working class!!

"Ye Ballade" is an example of HPL's jingoistic attitude towards everyone who wasn't of White Anglo-Saxon lineage.

Only minorities who were culturally indoctrinated in Anglo-Saxon mores were acceptable to Lovecraft.

Otherwise, even honest Irishmen de- served to be mocked...

End.

[institutestrength]

How Much Screen Time is Too Much for Today's Youth?

Institute Strength Copyright 2024

Institutestrength.com

Excessive screen time for children under the age of 12 can have several negative effects on their physical, mental, and emotional well-being. Here are some key detriments:

1. Physical Health Issues:

- Vision Problems: Prolonged screen use can cause eye strain, discomfort, and even long-term vision issues such as myopia.

- Sedentary Lifestyle: Excessive screen time often replaces physical activity, leading to a sedentary lifestyle that can contribute to obesity and related health issues like diabetes and cardiovascular problems.

- Sleep Disruption: Exposure to blue light from screens, especially before bedtime, can interfere with the production of melatonin, disrupting sleep patterns and leading to sleep deprivation.

2. Mental Health Concerns:

- Attention Problems: Constant exposure to fast-paced, attention-grabbing digital content can reduce a child's ability to focus and pay attention for extended periods, potentially impacting academic performance.

- Increased Anxiety and Depression: High levels of screen time, particularly with social media use, have been linked to increased rates of anxiety and depression in children.

3. Cognitive Development:

- Delayed Development: Excessive screen time can impede the development of essential skills such as language acquisition, critical thinking, and problem-solving, especially in younger children who benefit more from hands-on, interactive learning.

- Reduced Academic Performance: Overreliance on screens for entertainment rather than educational purposes can negatively affect academic performance and reduce the time spent on homework or reading.

4. Social and Emotional Impacts:

- Social Isolation: Children spending too much time on screens may miss out on crucial face-to-face interactions, which are essential for developing social skills, empathy, and emotional intelligence.

- Behavioral Issues: There is evidence to suggest a link between high screen time and increased behavioral problems, such as aggression and difficulty managing emotions.

5. Addiction and Dependency:

- Screen Addiction: The engaging nature of digital content can lead to addictive behaviors, where children become dependent on screens for stimulation and entertainment, making it difficult for them to engage in other activities.

To mitigate these risks, it's important for parents and caregivers to set clear limits on screen time, encourage regular physical activity, ensure a balanced schedule with time for homework and social interactions, and promote screen-free zones and times, especially before bed.

Engaging children in physical activities can be both fun and beneficial for their health and development. Here are some effective ways to get a child engaged physically:

1. Outdoor Play:

- Sports: Enroll them in team sports like soccer, basketball, baseball, or tennis. These activities not only provide physical exercise but also teach teamwork and discipline.

- Biking: Encourage regular bike rides in the neighborhood or on local trails.

- Hiking: Take them on nature hikes to explore the outdoors and enjoy physical activity.

2. Interactive Games:

- Tag or Hide and Seek: Traditional playground games are a great way to keep children moving and interacting with peers.

- Obstacle Courses: Create a fun obstacle course in the backyard or park, challenging them to run, jump, and climb.

3. Dance and Movement:

- Dance Classes: Sign them up for dance lessons such as ballet, hip-hop, or jazz.

- Dance Parties: Have impromptu dance parties at home with their favorite music.

4. Structured Classes:

- Martial Arts: Enroll them in martial arts classes like karate, taekwondo, or judo, which also teach discipline and self-defense.

- Gymnastics: Gymnastics classes can help improve flexibility, strength, and coordination.

5. Family Activities:

- Walks and Jogging: Go for family walks or jogs in the morning or evening.

- Swimming: Spend time at the pool or beach, swimming and playing water games together.

- Gardening: Involve them in gardening activities, which require physical effort and teach about nature.

6. Creative Play:

- Treasure Hunts: Organize treasure hunts that require them to run around and solve clues.

- Interactive Playgrounds: Visit playgrounds that have various equipment for climbing, swinging, and balancing.

7. Home-Based Activities:

- Fitness Videos: Use kid-friendly fitness videos or apps that make exercise fun and engaging.

- Indoor Games: Set up indoor activities like balloon volleyball, hopscotch, or jumping rope.

8. Involving Friends:

- Playdates: Arrange playdates with physically active friends to encourage social and physical interaction.

- Sports Clubs: Join local youth clubs or leagues where they can participate in organized sports.

9. Setting Goals and Rewards:

- Activity Challenges: Create challenges with rewards for achieving certain physical activity goals, like a family hike or a fun outing.

10. Lead by Example:

- Be Active Together: Show them the importance of physical activity by being active yourself. Children often mimic the behavior of adults.

By incorporating a variety of these activities into their routine, you can help children develop a love for physical activity, ensuring they stay active and healthy.

Consider hiring a personal trainer to help you reach your goals today!

Visit Institutestrength.com for more details & sign up for our Patreon for exclusive SOCIETY member training rates !

[thelastrenaissance]

The Day Is Done Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters, Not from the bards sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time.

For, like strains of martial music, Their mighty thoughts suggest Life's endless toil and endeavor; And to-night I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start;

Who, through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies.

Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice.

And the night shall be filled with music And the cares that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.

[all-the-fun-of-the-cirkus]

alright, first-time listen of the year no. 2 is hawks & doves by neil young, which is honestly a much weirder album than i was expecting

more than pretty much any other artist i tend to consider neil young a standalone album guy. take, say, genesis for instance; other than the odd aberration like the lamb, you can draw a clear line from trespass to invisible touch where every album is more or less a logical followup to its predecessor. neil young, on the other hand, just does whatever the fuck he wants. i mean, this comes after his proto-grunge album, but if you were just listening to his discography without any guide you'd put it right next to harvest, and i'd defy anyone to tell that this album came out in 1980. the standalone thing means you never really know what you're getting, and you certainly can't rely on other people to articulate it for you

the weirdest thing about this album is that it has a reputation as the Country One and as being a throwaway, which is arguably true... for side 2. but then the only songs from it people ever talk about are from side 1! it's baffling. and to be clear, side 2's alright; union man's a little too silly, but the first two tracks are enjoyable throwaways, comin' apart at every nail is... interesting, in a way i can't quite figure out yet, and the title track is alright (i haven't the foggiest whether it's a pisstake or a sincere statement, but that's par for the course with neil)

side 1, however, is excellent in its entirety. the thing that stood out to me, oddly enough, was neil's voice; it's real high in the mix, like he really wanted those lyrics clear, and he sound oddly tired and strained, particularly in little wing. wonder if that was intentional or if he really was just tired and strained. anyway everyone tips their hat to little wing, which is a great moody opener (it very much sounds like it was recorded in his bedroom, to its credit), but the obligatory "what the hell is he on about" track in the old homestead is the highlight for me. for some reason, it sounds to me musically like a more lowkey version of it's alright ma, and of course it's not as good as one of the greatest songs of all time, but there's a quiet intensity to the whole thing despite (or maybe because of) the absolutely baffling lyrics. fab arrangement, too; the saw could absolutely have been higher in the mix but burying it lends the whole song a really eeriness, and the stiff, martial drumming adds to the atmosphere too

the other two tracks are less impressive but still good; captain kennedy is a nice sea shanty pastiche, and lost in space is a fairly generic song absolutely jumping out of its skin to be interesting anyway (the frazzled, confused lyrics, the tempo changes, that weird nursery rhyme bit, the lovely dual guitar melody in the breaks). i think i actually might have more to say on this at some point but it's four in the morning, so. not an all-time great, but i was pleasantly surprised, good album

[19blogmk]

Tunisians Mourn a Hard-Fought Freedom Rapidly Slipping Away

Mosaïque FM, Tunisia’s most popular radio station, comes to life each morning around 5:30 a.m. with the martial strains of the national anthem. Next comes a voice crooning a verse from the Quran, then music and news, followed by the political show “Watch What They Say,” which has chronicled the floundering of the country’s young democracy and its recent U-turn toward autocracy. The show’s host,…

[18blogmk]

Tunisians Mourn a Hard-Fought Freedom Rapidly Slipping Away

Mosaïque FM, Tunisia’s most popular radio station, comes to life each morning around 5:30 a.m. with the martial strains of the national anthem. Next comes a voice crooning a verse from the Quran, then music and news, followed by the political show “Watch What They Say,” which has chronicled the floundering of the country’s young democracy and its recent U-turn toward autocracy. The show’s host,…