#the cold vein

[beatsforbrothels]

Cannibal Ox - Stress Rap

[todayinhiphophistory]

Today in Hip Hop History:

Cannibal Ox released their debut album The Cold Vein May 15, 2001

[songuserbox]

[usualgangofidiots]

November 1955 cover

Artist: Wally Wood Mad Logo Art: Harvey Kurtzman Border Art: Will Elder

[spirkbitch]

spirk fic writers need to decide once and for all whether vulcans have higher or lower body temperatures than humans

[agoldengalaxy]

since it seems I’m one of like 3 people that like minsc/jaheira, let me see if I can recruit more to my cause:

- while he was trapped in stone, jaheira visited him all the time, openly weeping and speaking to him

- even while under the tadpole’s control, minsc only listened to “jaheira”

- when minsc thought “jaheira” died, he was inconsolably angry

- jaheira was willing to risk EVERYTHING to get minsc back. nothing mattered to her more. she threatened the emperor - and the rest of your party for that matter - and screamed “help my friend!”

- when jaheira talked about how she had to leave him behind, she explained it was the logical thing to do…but she said she hated herself for it because minsc never would have left her, ever

- minsc referred to her as his wychlaran - a wise woman of rasheman, bonded to a berserker bodyguard for life. there is no higher title or deeper bond in all of rashemaar custom

- jaheira disagreed with this, to which he said “the title matters not. only this: when minsc does as minsc does, and charges in to make a mess, jaheira does as jaheira does, and saves us all anyway”

- minsc knows her children and they know him

- jaheira smiles the most around him

- they love each other

[beatsforbrothels]

Cannibal Ox - Iron Galaxy

[todayinhiphophistory]

Today in Hip Hop History:

Cannibal Ox released their debut album The Cold Vein May 15, 2001

[veinsfullofstars]

🌌 Memories of wonder 🌌

(ID: Kirby series fanart of the CFAU kids - Bow Dee, Meta, Dedede, and Para Dee respectively - seated side-by-side in their winter garb on top of a snowy hill dotted in footprints, their backs to the viewer, gazing up at the green-blue waves of an aurora glowing overhead across the starry night sky. END ID.)

Part 1 | Part 2 (you're here!)

Sketch started some time in 12/23, render started 01/08/24, finished 03/13/24, updated for color correction 11/02/24. | Childhood Friends AU Masterpost

[acourtofquestions]

"You'll come back," Manon said.

It sounded like more of a threat than anything

Dorian smirked. "Would you miss me if I didn't?"

Manon didn't reply. He didn't know why he expected her to.

He'd taken all of a step, when Asterin clasped his shoulder. "In and out, quick as you can," she warned him. "Take care of Narene." Worry indeed shone in the Second's gold-flecked black eyes. Dorian bowed his head. "With my life," he promised as he approached her mount and grasped the dangling reins. He didn't fail to miss the gratitude that softened Asterin's features. Or that Manon had already turned away from him.

A fool to start down this path with her. He should have known better.

The hours that passed were some of the longest of Manon's existence.

From anticipation, she told herself. Of what she had to do.

Abraxos, unsurprisingly, found them within an hour, his reins sliced from the struggle he'd no doubt waged and won with Sorrel. He waited, however, beside Manon in silence, wholly focused upon the gate where Dorian and Narene had vanished.

Time dripped by. The king's sword was constant weight at her side. She cursed herself for needing to prove-to him, to herself-that she refused to let him go into Morath for practical, ordinary reasons. Erawan wasn't at the Ferian Gap. It'd be safer. Somewhat. But if the Matrons were there … That was why he'd gone. To learn if they were. To see if Petrah truly commanded the host there, and how many Ironteeth were present. He had not been trained as a spy, but he'd grown up in a court where people wielded smiles and clothes like weapons. He knew how to blend in, how to listen. How to make people see what they wished to see. She'd sent Elide into the dungeons of Morath, Darkness damn her. Sending the King of Adarlan into the Ferian Gap was no different.

It didn't stop her breath from escaping when Abraxos stiffened, scanning the sky. As if he heard something they couldn't.

And it was the joy that sparked in her mount's eyes that told her.

Moments later, Narene sailed toward them, making a lazy path over the mountains, a dark-haired, pale-skinned rider atop her. He'd truly been able to change parts of himself. Had made his face nearly unrecognizable. And kept it that way.

Asterin rushed toward the mare, and even Manon blinked as her Second threw her arms around Narene's neck. Holding her tight. The mare only leaned her head against Asterin's back and huffed.

Manon hadn't dwelled long on what she'd say.

And as the three hundred Ironteeth witches filed into the hall, some coming off their patrols, Manon half wondered if she should have. They watched her, watched the Thirteen, with a wary disdain.

Their disgraced Wing Leader; their fallen Heir.

When all were gathered, Petrah, still standing in the doorway where she'd appeared, merely said, "My life debt for an audience, Blackbeak."

Manon swallowed, her tongue as dry as paper. Seated atop Abraxos, she could see every shifting movement in the crowd, the wide eyes or hands gripping swords.

"I will not tell you the particulars of who I am," Manon said at last. "For I think you have already heard them."

"Crochan bitch," someone spat.

Manon set her eyes on the Blackbeaks, stone-faced where the others bristled with hatred. It was for them she spoke, for them she had come here.

jacket, then hoisting up her white shirt. Rising in the stirrups to bare her scarred, brutalized abdomen. "She does not lie."

UNCLEAN

There, the word remained stamped. Would always be stamped.

"How many of you," Asterin called out, "have been similarly branded? By your Matron, by your coven leader? How many of you have had your stillborn witchlings burned before you might hold them?"

The silence that fell now was different from before. Shaking shuddering.

Manon glanced at the Thirteen to find tears in Ghislaine's eyes as she took in the brand on Asterin's womb. Tears in the eyes of all of them, who had not known. And it was for those tears, which Manon had never seen, that she faced the host again.

"You will be killed in this war, or after it. And you will never see our homeland again."

"What is it that you want, Blackbeak?" Petrah asked from the archway.

"Ride with us," Manon breathed. "Fly with us.

Against Morath. Against the people who would keep you from your homeland, your future." Murmuring broke out again. Manon pushed ahead, "An Ironteeth-Crochan alliance. Perhaps one to break our curse at last."

Again, that shuddering silence. Like a storm about to break Asterin sat back in the saddle, but kept her shirt open.

"The choice of how our people's future shall be shaped is yours," Manon told each of the witches assembled, all the Blackbeaks who might fly to war and never return. "But I will tell you this." Her hands shook, and she fisted them on her thighs. "There is a better world out there. And I have seen it."

Even the Thirteen looked toward her now.

"I have seen witch and human and Fae dwell together in peace. And it is not weakness to do so, but a strength. I have met kings and queens whose love for their kingdoms, their peoples, is so great that the self is secondary. Whose love for their people is so strong that even in the face of unthinkable odds, they do the impossible."

Manon lifted her chin. "You are my people. Whether my grandmother decrees it so or not, you are my people, and always will be. But I will fly against you, if need be, to ensure that there is a future for those who cannot fight for it themselves. Too long have we preyed on the weak, relished doing so. It is time that we became better than our foremothers." The words she had given the Thirteen months ago. "There is a better world out there," she said again. "And I will fight for it." She turned Abraxos away, toward the plunge behind them. "Will you?"

Manon nodded to Petrah. Eyes bright, the Heir only nodded back. They would be permitted to leave as they had arrived: unharmed.

So Manon nudged Abraxos, and he leaped into the sky, the Thirteen following suit.

Not a child of war. But of peace.

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

I'm starting Mission to Zyxx Season 5 now, and I have feelings about that.

First, it generally scares me when people hype anything up at all because there is no guarantee that anyone values the exact same thing I do to the same degree. Even if I trust the creators of a thing to value something and try to do right by it, that doesn't always necessarily mean it will be successful, especially if that involves doing something wildly different than what made it good in the first place (I have been burned this way before). I guess I'm just hoping they continue the format of goofy improv shenanigans for the majority of it with something more planned and emotional in the finale if they want, like they've been doing all along. I'd think they would, and I've heard nothing bad about the ending, but I guess it still makes me nervous because I'm so close to the end and I want it so badly to stick the landing. I'm setting my expectations on the floor so I can be surprised instead of disappointed, but honestly, I don't need it to be better, I just need it to be on par with the rest.

Second, and more briefly, I'm happy it's (hopefully) ending before it has a chance to decline. I am so on board with that philosophy. But on the other hand, finishing a thing that I really, really like and knowing there's not another one out there gives me a special kind of heartache. Like, I know there will be other good media, and stuff that's good and unique in other ways, but I know for a fact that there are no other podcasts out there that have the same mix of a balance of off-the-wall improv and structured narrative, quality comedy, fantastical sci-fi setting and loveable characters, and high quality production. There are other things out there with many of those qualities, but nothing that checks every one of those boxes. It's a lightning-in-a-bottle thing that very much feels like the right people had to be in the right place at the right time to do it. Attempts to do it again would feel hollow because it had to be born out of necessity and passion and the talents of the people involved, so if you switch out the people it loses the reasons it's great, and if the same people tried to do it again it'd feel tired. That makes me so, so grateful it exists, but also so, so sad that it doesn't, and I'm 80% of the way done. When it's over, it's over.

Anyway. Now that that's all out there, I'm just gonna finish listening and have fun. Wish me luck.

[jrmblob]

currently thinking…. if jrm shows up to charity stream tmrw that pretty much means no strma stream over the weekend bc j is a bitch and has pulled that card b4. sigh sigh sigh..

[macbethisms]

like i can't be the only one seeing this

[rogerclarkaudiobooks]

The third chapter in the Black Badge saga is in the works!

Ace in the Hole is the sequel to the highly acclaimed Vein Pursuits, the supernatural western adventure penned by Rhett C. Bruno and Jaime Castle, and narrated by the one only Roger Clark.

Ace in the Hole will release in roughly one year, on May 06, 2025 and it will be available in Paperback, E-Book, and Audiobook formats. No word on hardcover edition just yet.

You can pre-order Ace in the Hole from the retailers below, since the book is still far from release, there aren't too many options available:

Apple Books ✰ Audible ✰ Audiobooks.com ✰ AudiobooksNow.com ✰ AudiobookStore.com ✰ Barnes & Noble ✰ Binge Books ✰ Blackstone Publishing ✰ Chirp Books ✰ Downpour ✰ Everand ✰ Google Play ✰ Hoopla ✰ Libro.fm ✰ Overdrive + Libby ✰ Rakuten Kobo ✰

[softplumbs]

y'all,

beige is fine button noses are fine crooked noses are fine flat noses are fine tits are great plain is alright occults are nice

jesus christ play your dress up game

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

My veins might be too small to donate plasma lmfao