#tha dark artifices
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Greetings fellas, I have you some gay au deff crack idea.
✨Dungeons and Dragons/Willow AU✨
Kit: Rogue/Fighter
-We know she's pretty sneaky and all that stuff bc she escaped from her manners lessons all the time
-Good with swords AND bows (daggers seem to fit her naturally)
-Artefacts, strength and abilities
-A champion, shield, sword. Willow said that himself
-Chaotic neutral.
-The party member who is the 40% of the time causing troubles, 40% solving those troubles and 20% getting on the others memebers´ nerves
Jade: Ranger/Blood hunter
(IK how sounds but)
-Rangers "warrior who combats threats on the edge of the civilization" AKA Bone Rivers
-Blood hunters "adept warriors have forged themselves into a potent force dedicated to protecting the innocent" AKA Shining Legion
-”Blood hunters are clever warriors driven by an unending determination to destroy evils old and new. Armed with rites of secretive blood magic and a willingness to sacrifice their own vitality and humanity for their cause, they protect the realms from the shadows—even as they remain ever vigilant against being drawn to the darkness that consumes the monsters they hunt.” hear. me. out.
Graydon: Bard/Druid
-don't tell me that you can't see him taking animal form and using nature force as his main force
-HIS FLUTE
-He would know how to make these two classes work, as multiclasses or individually would adapt at him perfectly
-Neutral good.
-Smart but so insecure that he goes unnoticed
-But in really, really for real, important moments he contributes with his half braincell.
Boorman: Rogue/Barbarian/Monk
-He was prisoner for a very long time, he definitely trained his body way more deeply, reaching for new techniques and forms
-The Bone Rivers in some point teaching him sum that got him EVEN deeper in physical-mental-spiritual strength
-He's canonically sneaky (but still will enter a room by kicking the door) trickster, and very good at detecting traps.
-He have been in so many places and he definitely learned a little about a lot of things in every place he went
-The barbarian part is even needed to explain??
-If there is a crash, is a Boorman near
-Chaotic neutral, depends where are Scorpia and his kids
Elora: Sorcerer (maybe artificer multiclass)
-Was BORN with the magic, as a gift or bloodline, she would be a sorcerer canonically.
-The only time she readed a magic book was when Graydon was dying
-Then not ever once again Elora was sighted less than two foots away from a study book
-Spelcaster, uses an artifact (wand) to conduct her magic, BUT also manipulates it directly with her bare hands.
-Chaotic good
-The chiller, reckless and not so bookworm version of the common wizards.
-Like, imagine a shortgun that works with recolcted magic from another moment, so when she´s running out of energy she could just boom boom her enemies
Willow: Sorcerer
-He did born with magic in him but was limitated until tha things happened and he became the great sorcerer.
-Even tho he reads about magical stuff and all the ways to i, he didnt learned magic, he was born with it.
-This isnt even an option actually, lfmao.
-Lawful good
-Permanetly at least one and half braincell of the party.
Airk: Bard secondly fighter. Not virseversa.
-He isint the most calm person but he is way chiller than Kit when it comes to opposing their mother´s choices.
-True neutral
-He havent tried too hard to please the expectations, then he was free most of the time.
-Yes he is a very good swordsman but he cannonly prefers to roll up in the grass with flowers and eating muffins.
-Still enjoying the spars and all that, tho.
-That party member that wont shut up and will mansplain the way out of the troubles
-He and Kit caused the trouble, if not, it was them with stupidity extensions
-If words don't work he will hit yall with his freaking massive ukulele. Or ch0ke them with a necklace.
#willow 2022#willow#disney +#dnd#dungeons and lesbians#dungeons and dragons#au#boorman is so versatile#like man#could be barbie#tanthamore#elora danan#graydon hastur#thraxus boorman#airk tanthalos#elora and kit share one braincell#jade claymore#kit tanthalos#my contribution to the fandom#some gay shit
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In 50 pages Lord of the Shadows had me screaming and sobbing... I need to hug a Blackthorn asap
#shadowhunter chronicles#shadowhunters#the shadowhunter chronicles#tsc#tha dark artifices#tda#emma x mark#blackthorn#emma carstairs#jules blackthorn#kit rook#kit herondale#jace herondale#why is Jace so hot in TDA??#los angeles institute
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#header blackstaris#cassandra clare#tda#julian blackthorn#emma carstairs#books#headers#green headers#green packs#tha dark artifices
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Commission
#commission#kierark#mark blackthorn#kieran of the hunt#tha dark artifices#tda#cassandra clare#tsc#fan art#art#digital art
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Inktober 2: mark, big sweater
#mark blackthorn#mark#shadowhunters#tha dark artifices#lady midnight#lord of shadows#queen of air and darkness#shadowhunters series#cassandra clare#inktober
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Emma, on the phone: Hello Julian, my hands are stuck in a pringles tube. Both hands, yes.
Emma: look its not important how I dialed the number, just help me.
#this works for like every pairing in this series#but i domt see near enough acknowledgement for tha absolutely himbo that is Emma Carstairs#girl is buff angry and stupid and i respect that#emma carstairs#shadowhunters#julian blackthorn#the dark artifices#tda#shadowhunter incorrect quotes#source incorrect-jayvik-quotes
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k i t & t y
I’m giving you a case, Sherlock. When I’m gone, if I’m... gone... I need you to do something for me. Save John Watson. Save him, Sherlock. Save him. (BBC Sherlock)
#this is my first edit for this fandom#so be nice#thank you#tha shadowhunter chronicles#the dark artifices#the wicked power#lady midnight#lord of shadows#qoaad#kitty#kit#ty#tiberius blackthorn#christopher herondale
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Conversation
Kit: I can't believe you and Emma broke the bed.
Livvy: Yeah! You two must’ve been wild!
Mark: Haha yeah...
[the night before]
Mark: I bet you can’t jump high enough to touch the ceiling
Emma: bet
#the dark artifices#tda#emma carstairs#mark blackthorn#lord of shadows#kit rook#kit herondale#livia blackthorn#tha shadowhuter chronicles#incorrect tda quotes#emma x mark#lady midnight#original: tumblr
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Ok. Let's just talk about how beautiful our ships are...
That's it. It's been stuck on my mind
#malec#clace#sizzy#tha mortal instruments#tmi#wessa#jessa#the infernal devices#the last hours#tid#tlh#jemma blackstairs#mieran#marktina#the dark artifices#kitty#the wicked powers#tda#twp
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I’m so close but so far from finishing Queen of Air and Darkness gahhh
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My favourite book series for creative souls 🤎🍂
The infernal Devices
The Last Hours
Tha Mortal instruments
Acotar
The Dark artifices
Harry Potter
Outlander
A song of ice and fire
Enjoy and relax yourself 💖
#poetry#feelings#feel yourself#feel proud#make them feel#books & libraries#books#book series#acotar#outlander#dark artifices#infernal devices#the kast hours#the last hours#sarahjmaas#cassandra clare
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THE DARK ARTIFICES AS VINES
(TID as vines)
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Kit, Ty and Livvy (in blankets and sunglasses): *dancing to it goes around the world just nanananana*
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Julian: I don't sing in the shower
Julian: I PERFORM
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Cristina: hey babes happy one year
Mark and Kieran:
Cristina:
Cristina:
Mark and Kieran: we're 27
---------------
Horace: what are you thinking about?
Zara: H*tler
Horace: hm
Horace: me too
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Julian: let me see what you have
Tavvy: a knife!
Julian: nO
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Cristina: would you rather kill Zara or–
Emma: yes. kill her.
Cristina: I didn't say the other–
Emma: I don't need to hear it
Zara: feeling a little unsafe...
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Mark: go to del taco
Mark: they got a new thing called..
Mark: fr esha vo–
Mark: fresh–
Mark: fre sha voca do
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Dru: hey everyone today my brother (Tavvy) pushed me so I'm starting a kickstarter to put him down
Dru: the benefits of killing him would be I would get pushed way less
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Julian: and just remember...
Julian: nobody is gonna hate you more than you already hate yourself
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Horace: no off topic questions
Horace: because I don't want to
Horace: no tha– no
Horace: permission denied
Horace: that's an off topic question, next
Horace: you have been stopped
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Diana (teaching): Kit has 19 bottles of soap–
Ty: wait why does Kit have so much soap
Kit: mind your own business, Ty!
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Mark: HEY HEY HEY
Julian: sshhhhhh tavvy is sleeping
Mark, whispering: sorry
Julian, also whispering: what's up?
Mark, still whispering: there's a fire
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Dru: when there's too much drama at the institute
Dru: all you gotta do is
Dru: walk awaaAaYyY
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Mark: I wanna be a cowboy baby!
Kieran: hell yeah
Mark: I wanna be a cowboy baby!
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Kit: hey how much money do you have
Ty: 69 cents
Kit: ha you know what that means
Ty, almost crying: I don't have enough money for chicken nuggets
---------------
Diana: hi I'm renata bliss and I'm your freestyle dance teacher
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Zara: you wouldn't like me before my coffee
Emma: great cause I fucking hate you
Emma: all the time
---------------
Mark: road work ahead?
Mark: uh yeah I sure hope it does
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Kit: don't fuck with me I have the power of God and anime on my side
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Julian: I am the sand guardian, guardian of the sand
Emma: Poseidon quivers before him!
Julian: fuck off
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The blackthorns: *are loud*
Aline: hey hey kids KIDS
Aline: PATRICIA
Aline: honey can you be quiet
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Random guy: Whats the hottest Uber driver you ever had
Mark: uhh I never went to oovoo javer
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Julian: well when life gives you lemons
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Mark: vitamin c is Spanish for vitamin yes
Cristina:
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*at the downworlder-shadowhunter alliance*
Alec: I love working here it's just – we all have a lot of laughs
Alec: fuck off Maia I'm not going to your fucking baby shower
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Jia: Zara what do you want to become when you grow up?
Zara: I wanna become president
Jia: awww
Zara: so I can make slavery legal again
Jia: oooHHH o.o
---------------
Diana: mark, could you read number 3 for the class please
Mark: no I cannot
Mark: whadupp I'm mark I'm 19 and I never fucking learned how to read
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Livvy: TY! is that a weed?
Ty: no that's a crayon
Livvy: I'm calling the police
Livvy: *dials 911 on a microwave*
~911 what's your emergency?~
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Julian: hey can you toss me my stele
Mark: *throws a printer*
Julian: I said my STELE
Mark: I thought you said printer
Julian: why tHE FUCK WOULD I –
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Emma @ the cohort: why the fuck you lyin
Emma: why you always lyin
Emma: mhh oh my god stop fucking lyin
-----------------
Zara: haha tHAt is nOt coRReCt
Zara: because according to the encyclopedia of fjsosnxjoalahz
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Dru: Dear Diary, today I couldn't find my diary
Dru: so I'm writing this on both of my kung Fu Panda 2 DVDs
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Tavvy: an avocado thanksss
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Manuel: Zara your speech was so good
Zara: omg I didn't even try and it was like improv
Manuel: oh my god why don't you just take the frickin complemEEEEEE–
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Cristina: so I am confusion
Cristina: why is this one Kansas but this one is not arkansas
Cristina: America explain what do you mean with arkanSOOO
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Emma: what would you do if there was a child right on front of you
Zara: *pushes it*
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Tavvy: I smell like beeef
Tavvy: I smell like beeef
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Manuel: stop saying I look like chicken little
Manuel: he's dumb and he's a coward
Manuel: and I'm NOT a COWARD
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Cristina: bitch don't step on my toe with your fucking cowgirl boots bitch disGUSTING
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Diego: people are constantly asking what it's like to be a sexy –
Diego: *trips and falls*
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the blackthorn kids: *being mean to Helen*
Aline: NOT ON MY WATCH
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Zara: YOU FUCKING DIE
Emma: I'm a bad bitch you can't kill me
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Julian: livvy? livvy?
Julian: oh my fucking god she fucking dead
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*Julian's parabatai rune hurts*: AA
*Emma gets black marks*: AAA
*Julian and emma turn into fucking giants*: AAAAAAAAAA
----------------
#the shadowhunter chronicles#tsc#cassandra clare#tsc meme#tda memes#tda#the dark artifices#lady midnight#lord of shadows#queen of air and darkness#incorrect tsc quotes#incorrect quotes#incorrect tda quotes#vine quotes#vine#vines#julian blackthorn#emma carstairs#cristina rosales#blackthorn#carstairs#blackstairs#kierarktina
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I have been waiting for the end of the dark artifices since 2013 literally 6 years what tha fuck
#lord of shadows#kitty#kit#the wicked powers#ty#qoaad#kit herondale#qooad spoilers#ty blackthorn#the dark artifices#cassandra clare#cassie
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Tagged by @kierancfthehunt ♥ Thank you so much I love doing tags!
Rules: always post the rules, answer the questions given to you, write 11 questions of your own, tag 11 people. (I don’t see the point cause I don’t have enough mutuals and all the ones I care about already did it? ^^;)
1. If you had to pick just one character to bring back from the dead, who would it be, and why?
Tricky question,since a lot of my favorite characters usually die...But I would have to go with Renly from A Song of Ice and Fire. I really think he could be an amazing king, if only he wasn’t killed in such a cowardly way...
2. What’s your non-canon OTP? (That one that you say BUT IT’S FUCKING OBVIOUS, yet the author refuses to admit it).
Oh wow, that’s hard? Simply because I somehow usually start shipping people who end up together at the end. So I don’t really have anyone in mind :( Maybe SanSan(Sansa Stark and Sandor Clegane in ASOIAF).
3. Favorite Shadowhunters Chronicles seires (if you’ve read them)?
Definitely, The Dark Artifices! Everything about this series is amazing and I think that Cassie really shows her talent in this book.
4. Book release you’re looking forward to the most?
Two-one of the books already came out and it’s Lord of Shadows, but, you know, I live in Poland so I have to wait a few more months for it to actually get published here...
But definitely Winds of Winter by George R.R. Martin. I love ASOIAF so I can’t wait to see what happens.
5. Favorite book you’ve read in school?
Stones for the Rampart (Kamienie na szaniec). A Polish book about real lives of young men during World War II. It’s amazing and heartbreaking.
6. Classics or YA?
I love both, but YA is my life.
7. Fantasy with romance, or romance with fantasy? (There’s a difference)
Fantasy with romance! I love fantasy wheter it’s in books, movies, shows or manga/anime. I think that romance is a nice addiction but not something that the stories can’t exist without.
8. How many books do you read per year (average)?
The past year I went crazy with books so around 50-60 books a year? I usually read series so it goes much faster.(I read the whole The Raven Cycle series in 4 days so...It kind of overstates the average).
9. Do you read/write fanfic? If so, do you have a favorite (that you’ve read or written)?
I do both, although I haven’t written too much fanfiction in quite some time. But I read a lot. My favorite has to be Pride of Time a Harry Potter ff about...Hermione and Snape. I know it sounds CRAZY but the fanfiction is written so perfectly that I recommend it to everyone.
10. Do you have any book that you think the world should definitely read?
This question is way too hard? There’s no way I can choose one book. But I think people, especially young ones, should open up to and read more classics. My favourite is Gone with the wind I read it like 4 times when I was a teenager and I loved it!
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Childish Gambino’s ‘This Is America’ and the New Shape of Protest Music
youtube
In 2014, a Rolling Stone poll declared Bob Dylan’s "Masters of War" the best protest song of our time. Recorded in April of 1963, during that fierce spell of racial and economic tumult, Dylan, in his folksy pragmatism, rages against the Cold War and the military industrial complex, singing: "You play with my world/ Like it’s your little toy." Corralled by social margins during that same era, the tenor of resistance for artists like Sam Cooke ("A Change Is Gonna Come") and James Brown ("Say It Loud—I’m Black and I’m Proud") was voiced in anthems of anti-racism and self-pride. Out of the 1970 Kent State shootings—where the National Guard killed four students during a school protest—Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young recorded the stringent "Ohio."
Donald Glover’s trap gospel "This Is America" is a piece of trickster art that soundly rebukes the natural DNA of the protest song and constructs it into a freakish chronicle of imprisoned torment. In the dozen or so times I’ve watched the 4-minute video, which was released last Saturday and has already amassed 50 million views on YouTube, I kept thinking how much it reminded me of Kara Walker’s grand Antebellum silhouettes, which juggle themes of the grotesque—torture, death, slavery—in one graceful sweep.
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Working under his rap pseudonym Childish Gambino, Glover, like Walker, suggests a story of impossible escape. It’s tough work, blood-soaked and vacant redemption, but—and here’s where the artifice begins to reveal traces of brilliance—it’s playful and soul-moving to the point one only wants to keep peering into its dark interiors, waiting for the next truth to sprout.
Hiro Murai, who directed the video, is no stranger to Glover’s rhythms and deceptions, having lensed Atlanta’s wooziest, most disorienting episodes (“Teddy Perkins,” “The Woods”). Here, he seems content to let the scene unfold simply; all the kineticism comes from Gambino, who slinks, then transforms with cartoonish ferocity. With hollow-eyed conviction and no forewarning, he shoots a black man in the head from behind in one sequence, and rifles down a 10-person choir in another. The warehouse tornadoes into chaos and smoke. "This is America," Gambino insists. "Don’t catch you slippin’ up/ Look at how I’m livin’ now/ Police be trippin’ now." The lyrics are unadorned, raw, hauntingly spiritual. Later, over a ribbon of oily vocals, he tells us: "Grandma told me/ Get your money, black man." But the ironies have run flat by then—there are no riches to be had. The jig is up.
Notice, too, how the beat is uptempo, sporadically layered with Afrobeat pulses and church hymns. Gambino and his co-producer Ludwig Goransson trick the ears; they fabricate joy and stack it against Murai’s jamboree of ruin and violence. Atlanta rap contemporaries—among them, Young Thug, Quavo, Slim Jxmmi, and 21 Savage—enter the song’s orbit through a gumbo of yelps, ayes, skrrts, and woos. Both song and video take on the impression of collage.
RCA Records
"This Is America" is successful in the way all art should be: Its meaning wraps around each listener differently, a beautiful, nebulous showpiece with a thousand implications. How Gambino and Murai go about bringing those implications to the surface—turning the suffering and trauma of black people into a cinematic playhouse with no way out—and whether that makes it truly vital, is harder to sift through. (Notice that Gambino’s grim odyssey never takes him beyond the white walls of the warehouse, almost as if he’s trapped.) What "This Is America" ends up becoming is one of the most unconventional protest songs of the modern era.
The images are especially significant to Gambino's puzzle. For most people, "This Is America" was first consumed in video form—the song and footage were released simultaneously during Glover’s Saturday Night Live performance last weekend. The images, above all I believe, are what Gambino wants to resonate, to burn, to damn. The sum is one of naked invention—destruction so bare in its presentation it’s hard to know what exactly the viewer should be looking for.
There are three videos happening within Murai's scope. The first is in the foreground, where Gambino and a cluster of school kids perform choreography sewn together from across the black diaspora, invoking the Gwara Gwara with identical rigor as they do Memphis rapper Blocboy JB’s popular "Shoot" dance (which went viral thanks to a collaboration with Drake). The second video is the background, a canvas of unblinking devastation: burning cars, falling bodies, raging crowds. A world of gun and flame. The third is both of these ecosystems working in symbiotic tandem. Together, they imply complicity on the part of its black actors—that there is plenty of fault to share in the destruction.
'This Is America' diverges from the protest song lineage, insisting instead on pain: working to accept it, to get past it, but never being able to.
That very duality, even if just teased at, is precisely what makes "This Is America" such an unorthodox protest song. Whether imbued with a social or political slant, songs of resistance typically envision a clear villain or threat—a president, a war—but Gambino doesn’t just cough up one, he gives us a multitude. There are no solutions. No paths forward. Just a trove of questions.
After the antiwar soundtrack of the 1960s and ’70s, the protest song pushed forward. Under the boot of Reaganomics, incendiary rap group NWA found a target in law enforcement with 1988’s "Fuck Tha Police," followed by Public Enemy’s rallying call "Fight the Power." Years later, in 2004, Green Day would damn the Bush administration with timeless punk brava. "Well, maybe I’m the faggot, America/ I’m not a part of a redneck agenda/ Now everybody do the propaganda/ And sing along to the age of paranoia," they sang on 2004’s "American Idiot."
With Black Lives Matter (Janelle Monae’s "Hell You Talmbout") and #MeToo (MILCK’s "Quiet") came resounding psalms to the opposition of the day. In 2016, YG and Nipsey Hussle’s "FDT" gave us a plain-spoken mantra—"Fuck Donald Trump"—that has yet to lose bite. Collectively, these were songs meant to check the power-drunk, the intolerant, the warmongering, the racist. Their force lay in their ability to defeat apathy, to anger, even to galvanize.
"This Is America" diverges from this lineage, insisting instead on pain: working to accept it, to get past it, but never being able to.
And in this, his ultimate trick is his most nightmarish. Throughout the video, Gambino and the school children are the lone people untouched, dancing with the history of Jim Crow alive in their feet, contorting and romping, faces plastered with sly, elastic grins. But it turns out to be a mirage—in the final flash, Gambino’s character is seen manically fleeing down a dark hall, a mob at his back. With harrowing clarity one last note boils, then pops: even when you play their game, they still turn on you. "This Is America," unlike so much protest music, ends as it began—with death, pain, blood. We never know what exactly comes of Gambino, but Young Thug’s closing lyrics bear the impact of a dagger. "You just a big dawg, yeah/I kenneled him in the backyard."
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Read more: https://www.wired.com/story/donald-glover-this-is-america-protest-music/
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Chapter 3
William stretched his neck out. It had been a long road from the roaming city of Sün Taer, across the desert and the Midlands. They had passed Ule, the small mining town not five hours prior. Their destination couldn’t be more than a few hours ride away. Yet, even as they cantered forward on their horses, William waved down his men to stop. His small guard of four men, including himself, were the sort that knew better than to question a reason to rest. He dismounted his brown warhorse and set about stretching out his stiff legs. When he’d finally worked the last knots out of his muscles, he fished out an apple from his saddle back. Using his thin-guarded short sword to half it, he gave half to his horse and set about eating the other half himself. He looked at the sky with squinted eyes, judging the time. It had to be nearing evening at this point. He walked over and nudged one of his guard, Wall. Matching with his name; Wall was a fort of a man, with even broader shoulders than William’s own, and only just shorter than him.
“Do you think it would be worth stopping for the night, so we reach the tower come first light rather than this evening?” He asked.
Wall looked up at him, he had been re-strapping his thick leather armour to his calves. His hazel eyes looked confused for a moment, then he could see a small smile touch the corners.
“Really that nervous of ‘yer old man, eh?”
William flinched as if struck.
“How dare you, Lieutenant, I should string you up for that comment,” William said bitingly, sticking his chin out proudly, crossing his thick arms.
Wall merely raised both brows and blinked at him. William sighed and fell into a sitting position beside him.
“That transparent, am I?”
Wall nodded, in a friendly manner. He slapped a big hand on William’s chain-mailed shoulder.
“If you were any more transparent, lad, I could see through you to the clouds above.” He patted him consolingly before standing up and producing a wine-skin which he swigged from. To that, William frowned.
“You know, it is a trial-worthy offense going into battle drunk in the King’s army.”
To that, Wall barked out a rough laugh and took an even bigger gulp of what looked to be some kind of red berry wine.
“If there was any King or army left to trial me, I may be worried. Plus, I’d like to see any of them milk-drinkin’ Commander types take on the single most dangerous man in the Empire’s history. Either Empire, for tha’ matter.”
It was then that Hasen came over and grabbed the wine-skin from Wall and took a gulp of it herself.
“Oh come on, Wall. If High Command thought for a moment that we would really fight the infamous Critias Oathbreaker, Critias The Tyrant, Critias the Blood-Saint, they would send half the remaining militia here and their best spellcasters and artificers.” She said, making grand gestures.
She was pretty, if a little rough. In truth she was probably the best sword-and-shield fighter William had ever seen. Her blonde hair was cropped short in the style of a man, and she wore similar flexible leathers like Wall did. Besides Tacc, the silent Taer mercenary, William was the only one who wore chain-mail and a light breastplate. He wore the customary emerald-green half-cape of a member of the Eld Empire’s elite High Command. When one got to such a level, they either became fat and administrative, or hard and grizzled. William liked to think he had become more the latter.
“Besides,” Hasen continued, “We have him.” She pointed a casual thumb at William.
“Hasen...” Wall tried to interject, but she rolled over him as she shrugged her customary shield and bastard sword to a better position on her back.
“With him here, ole’ Oathbreaker probably will blub a bit and come quietly. He requested him personally, after all.”
A silence fell over the group. William finished his apple in a few quick bites, then stole the wine-skin from Hasen, finishing the rest of it in a few large gulps. His gray eyes never left the blonde-woman. He passed the skin back to Wall after he had finished.
“Come, you lot. Let’s get to that accursed Black Tower and get this over with.”
He distinctly heard Wall mutter something to Hasen, to which she started to grumble “I didn’t know!” Wall nudged her shoulder to shut her up before she could continue. William mounted his horse and waited for the rest of them to gather up before he set off at a light gallop. His mood was dark, and he set his jaw tightly in determination. He would end this.
The sun was nearly completely out of the sky when the jagged shape of the Black Tower became visible on the horizon. They had left the known roads some time ago, and had just crested a hill when they came to a stop. Their horses were tired, and William could feel the heat and stress of his warhorse’s muscles clenching and unclenching beneath him, but they had a bit of running left in them. They needed to make it, tonight.
“Bloody Hells,” Wall said in awe, “It looks like something out of an old fable. It is twisted, alright. Formed of evil magicks.”
“Enough of that, its just a building.” William replied, not altogether agreeing with his own words. It did look like something evil. The peak of it came to a point like a scimitar, with jagged edges poking every which way, all coming together at the base. It was all angles and points: as if someone had shattered a blackened sword, forged the shards back together, and then planted them into the ground at the top of a hillock.
How could his father live here, of all places? He shrugged and lightly nudged his horse forward.
“Common, you lot. Let us get this over with.”
By the time they reached the Tower’s base the sun had set the sky aflame in brilliant colours of red and purple. It was such a startling contrast to the unsettling sight of the high tower before them. They came to a stable of sorts, and tied up their horses where they drank greedily from troughs and munched on bags of oats sitting at the ready for them.
“Should we talk about how we’d take this bastard down, if he wants a scrap?” Wall asked, probing. They walked along a path that led to what looked like a high-arched black stone door. The path was surprisingly pleasant, with trimmed bushes and flowerbeds lining the cobblestone.
Hasen spoke first, “We shouldn’t have to fight. But, if we do, I’ll take him up close. That magick sword of his ain’t no match for me.”
Tacc grumbled behind them, he was taking up the rear as always. He actually spoke, startling the rest of them. He hadn’t said more than five words the whole three pass trip.
“He may be the greatest of the Singers to live within memory, but I am no novice to the craft, either. I can hold his magicks while you restrain him.” His rich accent was pleasant to listen to, like warm honey. William dimly realized he must have an excellent bass singing voice.
They reached the large stone door, which must have been twice the size of all of them. William paused, then pushed on it. To his surprise it opened, and a stocky dark-skinned man stood there.
He bowed deeply. To William’s surprise his clothes were of the latest fashions of Illiad, even way out here to the east. The Tower was at least five days travel from the nearest full city, so it boggled him how he managed to look so well-kept.
The man looked up to meet his gaze. William could see recognition in his eyes.
“You must be Master William. You were expected. Come,” he said, making a sweeping gesture for them to enter.
The entrance hall was nothing more than a large domed room, the stone floor was cut in what almost looked like obsidian outlined in silver. The roof was probably several stories high, and the walls were ridged in a style William couldn’t recognize. There were many doors here, some wood, some stone, and yet others were a burnished metal that William had never seen before.
“I am Salien, the lord’s servant. He has directed me to lead you to the dining hall, as he has chosen to take supper there this evening,” he explained. Salien looked more like a bread merchant than a servant to the most dangerous man in the Eldor Dominions.
Regardless, they walked through a wooden door, down a corridor, then through another door. As they went through, Tacc grumbled as if uncomfortable. William was about to ask what was wrong when his eyes, fell upon the dining hall, or more specifically the large glass-paned windows that showed the fading light of day outside. It was obvious looking out them that they were no longer ground level, but somehow mid-way up the tower.
“How…?” William began to ask Salien, only to find the man-servant’s eyes already on him.
“You really do look like him, you know. Even the blue of your eyes.”
That caught William completely off guard, and his mind went blank of questions. Before he could recover, Salien was already whizzing out of the room.
“I shall go fetch m’lord. Please, be seated.”
As the door closed behind him, the team looked at each other in confusion.
Wall spoke first, gesturing to the laid-out table of silver and wood. It looked like it could fit around twelve people.
“I’ll admit, I didn’t expect him to try and set us up with a four course meal.”
William nodded, numbly. “I am not sure what he’s up to, but we may as well play along for now. Tacc, can you use your magicks to tell if the food is poisoned?”
Tacc scratched the back of his head, setting his bronze-coloured hair askew. For the first time he showed some sign of uncharacteristic uncertainty. After a moment he gave a small shrug.
“Normal toxins, yes. Magick trickery? Uncertain.”
William nodded. That would have to do. He doubted anyone in the Two Kingdoms would have much luck besting Critias in magick, but at least they would be safe from a drug in their wine. They all took seats at the far end of the table, as far as possible from the chair that was clearly the ‘head’. Tacc even went so far as to unbuckle his sword belt, and lay them under his chair.
A minute passed, then Salien burst into the room, holding a wooden door open behind him. A man walked in behind him, and William could feel the eyes of his companions flick back and forth between the two of them. William knew what they saw, because he could see it himself. The man before him shared his dark hair, even though Critias’ was longer by far. As well as a sharp jawline, and strong but tall frame. But the greatest resemblance was their eyes. William couldn’t look away from the deep wells of blue with streaks of green and gold through them. Those eyes could look through wood, stone, and bone to see the soul of a man. They looked tired, and in pain. Critias’ gaze fell over each of the gathered before settling on William. When their eyes met, William could see the man stiffen, and his jaw clenched. He looked away quickly, and settled into his large chair.
“Please, Salien, bring out the meal.” Critias’ voice startled William. He’d always expected it to be rough, barking, like the ravings of a madman. Instead it was soft, reserved, almost kind. William found he hated it. The meal was brought out by not men, but forms that were vaguely human-like. They shimmered and whirled, and they seemed to be made entirely of metal.
Wall finally spoke up, his gruff voice rolling over the dining hall.
“Are those… Tael automatons?” He asked, before realized who he was talking to. Hasen, who was sitting to his right, made a distinct elbowing-motion.
Critias looked up, even as one of the silver-and-gold automatons placed a steaming plate of roast before him. He smiled a small, yet charming smile.
“Why, yes. Although, the Tael didn’t produce these ones. I did,” he said, pausing to reach forward and pick op a roll of soft bread, which he tore in half to spread a daub of butter upon it.
As he talked, William glanced over at Tacc, who was frowning at the cut potatoes that rested before him as if they had in some way insulted his ancestors. After a brief moment, he relaxed and shrugged before piling food on his plate. William decided that was good enough for him, and followed suit. As if on cue, Wall and Hasen started gathering foods on their plates. Warm rolls, soft cheese, meats and wines to their desires.
“I found one of their schematics in a book I read, a long time ago, and managed to remember it well enough after a few attempts.” Critias continued. Tacc looked up with wide eyes.
“You made one of the archon from memory?” he questioned, his Taer accent thick around the Sün Taer word. “Those schema are hundreds of pages long.”
Critias nodded slowly, chewing through a mouth-full of roll.
“Thousands, if you read the more complicated ones. I didn’t say it was easy, just that it was done.”
The table fell silent as they ate. The food was excellent, and they feasted until they could not eat any more. The aches of the road dulled slightly in the presence of wine, water, and food. But William couldn’t keep his eyes off of his father, who seemed to be pointedly ignoring him. He talked to the others, who funnily enough opened up to the charming murderer, and soon they were all reservedly talking over small things. The roads, the weather, and the markets. Never the Empires. Never the War. Eventually the food and plates were taken away, but the wine and water remained. At this point William had leaned back, and crossed his arms across his chest. He was unsure how to proceed.
“Well,” Critias said, standing up from the table with a flourish, “I suppose we should head to my favoured chamber to get to business.” The rest of the group found themselves standing, almost without meaning to.
Critias, followed by Salien, lead them through the same door he had entered from. This time, William was weary of going through the door. He glared at it, but the open door merely showed a short passageway beyond it. He looked back and met Tacc’s eye, which looked far away. But the man slowly nodded before jutting his head upwards. William figured the gesture meant it was another of the doors that moved them around the tower without knowing it. He took a deep breath in before stepping through the door. Now that he was expecting it, he ever so slightly felt like he was falling as he passed through the portal. The room before him, however, was no passageway. It was a grand throne-room, half of which was open to the elements. There was only a single large wooden throne in the room, facing the outside. There were a few cushions lain out on the floor, as if waiting for William’s party.
Critias had already fallen into his throne, cradling in his lap what William recognized as his legendary sword, Nae’gling. Without pause, William called out to his men.
“Positions!”
He drew both his long sword and his short sword with a flourish, and heard a startled, slightly slower reaction than normal from his companions as they drew their weapons.
Critias looked up at them, a frown forming on his face. His blue eyes almost seemed to darken, then, turning nearly black. William felt a shiver run down his back. Before he could say anything, Critias casually flicked his sword at them. It skittered across the stone floor finding a resting place before William’s feet.
“Take it. I surrender it to you, freely.” The icy disappointment in his voice could have given the group frostbite.
William sheathed his weapons before reaching down to gather up the sword in his hands. It was an odd design, almost as if someone had combined a bastard sword and a rapier. It was longer than most swords, but also slightly thinner. William ran a hand along the metal of the blade in wonder, it was no simple steel or iron. He couldn’t guess what the bright-white metal was. He only knew from stories that it was ages old.
“Nae’gling is your birthright, anyway. You should have it.” William felt his breath catch in his chest, and he looked up at Critias. His manner had completely changed from icy rage to sadness. He looked at William with such heartbreak that William almost wanted to comfort him. Almost.
“It is no birthright of mine. It will be placed in the Royal vaults as is proper.” He spoke before he even knew what he was saying. Critias blinked as if he had been slapped, then shook his head.
“Seems a shame to give it to the Eld bloodline. Do you even know what Nae’gling means, boy?”
William felt his face sink into a frown, and he opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by Tacc.
“It means ‘Shine of Doom’, yes?”
William looked back with fury in his eye at Tacc, but none of the three were minding him at all. They had all lowered their weapons, looking at Critias with some manner of suspicion. William could tell what they were thinking, that they had no idea what the Oathbreaker was playing at.
“Yes, that is correct. It is no God-borne weapon. It is beyond that. The blade,” he said, pointing at the silvery metal, “was forged by Volus for Crael himself, if tales are anything to be believed. And I do.”
William shook his head.
“We don’t have time for your faerie tales, Critias Oathbreaker. We are here to take you in. You requested me here, so I am here! Now you will come with us for your crimes.”
William practically shouted by the time he had finished. Without him realizing, a deep-seated anger had been building in him. He met Critias’ eyes as he finished, and found nothing but pity meeting him.
“I’m afraid, my son, that is exactly why you are here. Faerie tales. My faerie tale. That is my price for surrendering myself to you, and you alone.”
He stood, and turned away from William, leaning on his throne as if he needed strength.
“I would have you know who I am, even now. At the end of all things. Then I will come, and the Eld can do whatever they consider to be justice. You deserve to know.”
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