#the fate of all mankind is in the hands of fools

[childoftheriver]

I’ve been listening to both the live (‘69) version and the album version of Epitaph. His voice is uncannily mature for a 21-22 year old. The song is as relatable today as it was then.

[internetskiff]

Breen's unfortunately pretty underrated amongst the Valve antagonists, which I suppose is understandable compared to the likes of GLaDOS or The Administrator, but just like those two I feel like there's plenty of things to talk about when it comes to him. He seems like a very conflicted character, especially if you take into account the BreenGrub account and Laidlaw's Epistle 3. First of all is, of course, the leadup to the Black Mesa incident, with the G-Man seemingly making an offer to Breen which seemingly involved overloading the Anti-Mass Spectrometer while processing an extremely pure sample of Xen Crystal - and yes, while it's pretty obvious that the order to overload the systems was very intentional and motivated by whatever deal they struck, I believe that when it comes to the aftermath he may have been sold on a lie. Considering his actions as Administrator of Earth being entirely in the interests of keeping Humanity from feeling the full force of the Combine, I don't think "Becoming the de facto leader of all of Earth" was on his agenda. Perhaps G-Man promised that whatever their deal would entail would bring about a prosperous future for humanity, perhaps all he promised was the possibility of establishing contact with another sentient species (which is something he technically did provide), or perhaps it was something else - there's simply way too much room for speculation there, I think.

A little detail from a HL:A newspaper implies that his position as Earth's administrator wasn't exactly handed to him on a silver platter, instead he had to go out of his way to reach out to the governments with information on how to communicate with the invaders, at which point, already beaten down by Combine forces, they simply gave him the all-clear to speak for all of mankind. This still begs the question of who, or what, gave him the knowledge of how to speak with them - however, it's safe to say if they didn't, Earth would've been left a smoldering pile of rocks and withered carcasses. Once again, he acts with Humanity's best interests in mind, having to choose between the lesser of two evils - it's either enslavement or extinction. He simply chose the option in which Humanity would survive, even if just for a little while longer.

And ever since, we're watching the aftermath. He's trying to talk the last generation of Humanity down, so they may either pass of old age or be absorbed into the Combine - at least if that happens, something gets preserved. Once again, the alternative? They'll just wipe the slate once they get the local teleportation technology they desire. Breen sees no other way than to go along with their demands. He's eventually proven wrong, of course, but he refuses to see the Rebellion as anything but a suicidal march towards the extinction of the human race, and he sticks to that belief up until he is killed by Gordon at the tip of the Citadel. Of course, this doesn't make him a good person. Not at all. This belief has lead him to seek out and destroy anyone who tries to resist. He shows no sympathy to them. He paints them as fools. He himself believes it so. This intense hatred for anyone who resists is seen perfectly in how he treats the Vance family. He views them as fools. As narrow-minded rabble in the streets, senselessly struggling against a tide beyond their comprehension. He's willing to send off a father and his daughter into a world far beyond simply to use them as a bargaining chip. Listening to the two comfort eachother as they're almost raised up to a fate surely worse than death, the only expression on his face is that of pure contempt and annoyance. He's a very fascinating character that I wish Valve would explore again if they ever do another Half Life set during a time period in which he was still alive. He's a coward that easily bends to the oppressor, yet in the end he only does it to make sure something survives. He's cruel to those who resist because he's completely convinced they're going to get everyone killed. He is the Combine's perfect puppet.

haha anyhoo so why was he straight up serving on the magazine covers in HL:A like what was up with all that

[author-of-all-sins]

"Knowledge is a deadly friend

If no one sets the rules

The fate of all mankind I see

Is in the hands of fools"

King crimson

[unspokenmantra]

"The wall on which the prophets wrote Is cracking at the seams Upon the instruments of death The sunlight brightly gleams When every man is torn apart With nightmares and with dreams Will no one lay the laurel wreath When silence drowns the screams?"The wall on which the prophets wrote Is cracking at the seams Upon the instruments of death The sunlight brightly gleams When every man is torn apart With nightmares and with dreams Will no one lay the laurel wreath When silence drowns the screams?

Confusion will be my epitaph As I crawl a cracked and broken path If we make it we can all sit back and laugh But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying

Between the iron gates of fate The seeds of time were sown And watered by the deeds of those Who know and who are known Knowledges are a deadly friend If no one sets the rules The fate of all mankind I see Is in the hands of fools

The wall on which the prophets wrote Is cracking at the seams Upon the instruments of death The sunlight brightly gleams When every man is torn apart With nightmares and with dreams Will no one lay the laurel wreath When silence drowns the screams?

Confusion will be my epitaph As I crawl a cracked and broken path If we make it we can all sit back and laugh But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Crying Crying Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Crying"

[thelostdreamsthings]

King Crimson - Epitaph (Including "March For No Reason" and "Tomorrow An...

.. The fate of all mankind, I see

Is in the hands of fools..

[randomly--accessed--memories]

Another day of trying my damndest to connect songs to RAM because trying to connect song lyrics to stuff I'm obsessed with is a really fun way to appreciate music. Today's subject? Epitaph by King Crimson (Ha. My Jojo phase really did wonders for my music taste).

The wall on which the prophets wrote/Is cracking at the seams

I think for this one, it's quite easy to make a connection to Vox and Niffty's situation.

Upon the instruments of death/The sunlight brightly gleams

Referring to the fact that for a while, Alastor kinda just got away with doing this.

When every man is torn apart/With nightmares and with dreams

the image that being "torn apart with nightmares and with dreams" brings to mind is how Alastor tried to brainwash Vox into enjoying this ( the "with dreams" part) but that doesn't make it any less of a nightmare.

Confusion will be my epitaph/As I crawl, a cracked and broken path

To me, this one is pretty obvious. Vox is pretty much always confused.

If we make it, we can all sit back and laugh/But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying/Yes, I fear tomorrow I'll be crying/Yes, I fear tomorrow I'll be crying

To me, this brings to mind the heaven ending. Vox is in heaven now and he finally got better ("if we make it, we can all sit back and laugh"), but he can't really be happy about it because of everything that he went through and the fact that the other vees are dead ("but I fear tomorrow I'll be crying")

As for verse two, I don't really have any specific imagery for that one, so I won't put it here.

if you have a different interpretation for the lyrics of this one song, I'd love to hear it!

Also, I'm doing that thing where you imagine an animatic when you listen to a song, but considering the fact that the whole thing is almost 9 minutes long, I don't think it's something I'm ever going to make.

Interesting! In terms of the second verse, "Between the iron gates of fate / The seeds of time were sown / And watered by the deeds of those / Who know and who are known" could be something to do with Alastor and "Knowledge is a deadly friend / If no one sets the rules / The fate of all mankind, I see / Is in the hands of fools" could be referring to Charlie and how she spends most of the story completely ignorant of the reality of this situation and how she could put a stop to it at any time.

Yeah, a 9 minute song would be a BEAST of an animatic to make. Not gonna lie though, I think I'd cry real, physical tears if someone actually made an animatic for this AU, no matter the song or how short it was.

[donnabisestile]

Knowledge is a deadly friend If no one sets the rules The fate of all mankind, I see Is in the hands of fools

[tomoleary]

Knowledge is a deadly friend

If no one sets the rules

The fate of all mankind I see

Is in the hands of fools

- Peter Sinfield

[monsata]

4 of 1001

Today's album: King Crimson - In The Court of the Crimson King (1969)

Oh man, here we fucking GO! I love this album. Can and will turn you into an evil scientist.

(in case that's a lost reference:)

So, spotify only has the "expanded and remastered original album mix", but whatever it's king goddamn crimson.

Now, i can already hear people saying: "wait a minute, The Doors are 'tedious' but King Crimson isn't?" Yeah, i like bizarre spacey prog rock better than drunken meandering calliope bullshit. Sue me.

Gonna just go track by track, since there's only 5 of them here.

21st Century Schizoid Man - starts off amazing and never lets up. A killer first track. Unrelenting guitar noodling, a drum set that sounds like the irritated finger tapping of an angry god who's just about to lose their shit entirely, and the trumpets, my god, the trumpets.

As much as i may love strings, i grew up on a heavy diet of Oingo Boingo and 70s funk, and i love a good brass section at least equally, if not even more than a good string section.

I Talk To The Wind - whiplash engaged! 7+ minutes of drums and trumpets, and that mellow flute intro immediately calms you back down, brings you right back to earth.

I've always loved this song, despite being one of the slower ones here. The lyrics are beautiful and just a bit depressing/haunting, to be honest.

And, not to keep going back to the "religious trauma" well, but 'talking to the wind' always felt like a metaphor for prayer to me. Like: 'I'm just saying these things, casting them out into the void, and the void clearly isn't listening.'

Epitaph - Confusion will be my epitaph. What was i saying earlier about beautiful string sections? Well, here's a great one. And the lyrics are just outstanding.

"Knowledge is a deadly friend

If no one sets the rules,

The fate of all mankind i see

Is in the hands of fools."

I'm just gonna say 'Elon Musk' and walk away from that one. I know it was likely about politicians back then, and it still very much is, since they're damn sure not making politicians any smarter than they were a half century ago, but there are decidedly more powerful fools nowadays.

To call this song prescient sells it short.

Moonchild - upon seeing the name, all i can think of is the kid from The Neverending Story weirdly screaming that word at the end, so, uh, yeah.

A lot of prog rock gets maligned for being "25 minute-long songs about hobbits and elves and dragons and shit" and i kinda feel like this song is pretty guilty of that. 2.5 minutes of weird flowery hippie poetry in a 12 minute long song with A LOT of nonsense and jangly filler.

At least "The End" had the weird "faTHUUR, i WaNt To KEEL youuuuuu..." part to keep it somewhat interesting, this is just plinks and plonks and 'sOuNdScApEs'.

The first half feels... Tolkienesque. Tom Bombadilian, even. The second half feels like: 'everybody in the studio is on really strong acid and we ALL just peaked, time to make some fuckin NOISES!'

The Court of the Crimson King - back from the goddamn brink. The lyrics feel like something i would use for d&d campaign inspiration, but unlike in moonchild, this is actually rad and creepy and evocative instead of just "hey so there's a moonchild, doing their usual moonchild shit in the forest where the moonchild is...'

And the flute soars once again.

The melody throughout is so beautiful and mournful, and the drumming comes back so hard at the end. God damn, what a great song.

I fully believe that Stephen King did a shitload of something and hallucinated The Dark Tower while listening to this song specifically.

Favorite Track: 21st Century Schizoid Man, no doubt. If you haven't heard it, just listen to it and you'll see. You'll know.

Least Favorite Track: yeah it's moonchild. Way too long of a song for not much at all.

[riecurrents]

THROUGH THE CRACKS | CHAPTER 2

HA EUNBYEOL x JOO SEOKKYUNG

SYNOPSIS: Two wounded souls, bound and haunted by their past mistakes, meet again while embarking on a journey of remolding and forgiveness. How do they make each other realize that correcting their mistakes also involves the need to forgive themselves? Read on AO3

TAGS: post-canon, hurt/comfort, feel-good, slow burn, eventual romance, mental health issues (mostly on eunbyeol's part), trauma, angst, fluff, cohabitation, additional tags to come

READ CHAPTER 1 HERE

Since then, Eunbyeol and Seokkyung have stayed in contact. They have lots to talk about this time, after all.

“Giving me a daffodil to earn my forgiveness? What a fool, you think I’m that easy?” “Come on, the florist plucked it out for me with lots of love!” “She might as well give you money then! Money is the greatest form of love!” “Shut that, Joo Seokkyung! You sound like an evil man wanting to take over mankind out of money.” “You mean like my father?” “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—” and all shenanigans Seokkyung says to tease Eunbyeol of her so-called seeking forgiveness agenda.

Deep inside, Seokkyung knows more than anyone that Eunbyeol owes her nothing. There’s nothing that Seokkyung needs to forgive Eunbyeol for because all the things she had done were not just her fault. The bullying? The two of them instigated it with their own free will. Her mother’s death? Eunbyeol was merely shackled by Cheon Seojin. If that were her mom, she would’ve done worse. She knows it herself. 

“I’ve been taking a walk around the church compound, something I’ve never done since I got there.”

“Wow, you’re a hermit in the making,” Seokkyung fakes a gasp. “What made you touch grass then?”

“Well, you said you’re trying to find more side jobs. So I went through asking around if there’s one available,” then Eunbyeol enthusiastically hands her a couple of crumpled pamphlets. “And I’ve seen these plastered at the post lights.” Then she proceeds to scatter the postings one by one in front of the befuddled Seokkyung. “Waitress, homeschool tutor, and, uh… Janitress at the Mookwon building—but I hope you don’t accept this because I visited that place after seeing the job posting. It’s so big you might end up straining your body.”

“You must be kidding me,” Seokkyung’s mouth hangs open and it’s all she has managed to say.

“O-oh, why?” And now Eunbyeol seems flustered. “Did I go too far? I’m sorr—”

“I forgive you for your sins,” Seokkyung cuts her off, nodding, still wide-eyed at the pamphlets she’s reading one by one this time around. “Who knows you could be an angel if you tried?”

“Oh stop, you!” Eunbyeol reddens. For some reason, she still couldn’t get used to Seokkyung’s sharp mouth. If she had the gall to point it out, she wants the girl to stop being snarky and teasing all the time. It never fails to fluster her! “A-anyway, I didn’t do that for free, okay? You promised me you’d visit the church someday.”

“Oh…” Seokkyung seems to have totally forgotten about it, making Eunbyeol’s pout more apparent. “Heh, just kidding! Didn’t I tell you I’d do that in exchange for you visiting my class one of these days? Look at you being here at my table! Seriously, you don’t need to do this much for me.”

Eunbyeol could only smile. Well, she seems like she'd gone too far after all. It’s just that the thought of Seokkyung working near her residence fills her with warmth for some reason. Maybe Seokkyung’s right that fateful day they met at the cafe. Maybe she really has no friends to hang out with.

“But I’ll be sure to check these out,” Seokkyung beams at her, that bunny-like smile brightening Eunbyeol’s features. “I’ll pay you back with this effort one of these days, okay?”

There’s no need, really. Eunbyeol thinks to herself. Her presence is more than enough to keep her at ease. Who would’ve thought? The past Eunbyeol could never imagine clinging to Seokkyung subtly this way.

Seokkyung’s class comes, but not before she tours Eunbyeol all over the school first. The tiny art school was far from the grandeur of Cheong-Ah, but Seokkyung seems surprisingly at home in it. Watching her in action—pointing here and there, scolding running children in the hallway, glaring at the couple doing a public display of affection at a secluded spot, among others—is actually entertaining.

Now, Eunbyeol is seated at the back of the room, watching Seokkyung conduct the students. They abruptly halt when Seokkyung hisses sharply, immediately intimidated by the short gesture.

“Alright, kids, that was…” Seokkyung’s eyes narrow, taking a long, dramatic pause, then sighs. “Utterly despicable. Are you guys listening to yourselves? You can't be serious!” she groans, disappointment palpable.

Eunbyeol shakes her head in dismay all the while stifling her laugh. What a temper this teacher has. She just knows the students talk about her badly after class.

“But! Thank me because I’m your ever-so-passionate teacher and I’m sooo thrilled to watch you improve from sick frogs into actual loving singers!” The shift in demeanor made the students flinch. Some things never change, Eunbyeol could only say to herself. “Here’s my friend who used to be one of the pioneers in Cheong Ah Arts, Ha Eunbyeol! Come on, Eunbyeol, give them a piece.”

The students start whispering to each other upon hearing the familiar name. Eunbyeol hears them mentioning Cheon Seojin at one point while she makes her way to the front of the room—not that it surprised her, it’s indeed a controversial name known by aspiring singers and the like. That’s why Eunbyeol is so thankful Seokkyung didn’t introduce her as the then primadonna’s child. It’s as though she understands what it takes to separate oneself from a parent who has been your extension for so long.

Seokkyung doesn’t need to hush them to acquire silence, because as soon as Eunbyeol starts singing, all of them are quickly in awe. Well, Seokkyung isn’t excluded from the charm of her voice. Not only has it been a very long time since Eunbyeol sang in front of her, but she's also singing a song that has been the trademark of Bae Rona, Lascia ch'io pianga.

Rona, the girl whom Eunbyeol had deeply wronged.

Let me weep my cruel fate,

Seokkyung can only watch in silence. Eunbyeol sounds different than her usual strong croons. There’s a charming lilt to her voice, one more liberated contrary to the then Eunbyeol onstage guided by the then primadonna.

So that I may sigh at my lost freedom.

Seokkyung could notice the limitations brought by the slash Eunbyeol had inflicted on her own neck that fateful day in the trial court, but it never made it less beautiful. It lacks the pressure, the conscious gazing, the anxiety lurking underneath the big smile as she hits a falsetto.

Let me weep my cruel fate, so that I may sigh at my lost freedom.

If one would squint, unaware of the facet of whatever Eunbyeol is trying to reclaim, they would see it clearly while she sings. When Seokkyung heard Rona sing it at the big stadium for the first time, she wept, remembering all that’s lost and those they’re trying to live on. If not for her students watching right now, she would’ve cried too. But this time with Eunbyeol, she chooses to smile—proudly so—for the kindness crooning out of Eunbyeol’s once shattered and rotten heart.

Grief may shatter the bonds of my sufferings out of pity alone

Eunbyeol has already come so far, maybe even farther than Seokkyung could ever go—she knows it herself. If there’s someone in this sinful world who would deserve most redemption and forgiveness—as much as she wants it to be her—it would be no other than the girl singing in front of her. Eunbyeol whom she thinks never got the privilege of a mom as kind as Suryeon’s, and yet is trying her best to live with it and atone for being Seojin’s daughter.

She owns herself the same way she owns her and her mother’s sin.

And not everyone in this world could go that far.

Seokkyung hid her face from the students to wipe a tear.

When the students are dismissed and Seokkyung busies herself fixing the chairs, Eunbyeol approaches with a teasing glint in her eyes. “So, how was it? Not so pioneer Cheong-Ah student now, am I?”

Seokkyung looks at her, eyebrows arched. “Who would’ve known Ha Eunbyeol’s most captivating performance would not be onstage, but in a measly classroom five times smaller than Cheong Ah’s? Not so pioneer indeed, how are you hide that from the school that brought you up?!”

Eunbyeol’s laugh echoes all over the room, pleasuring Seokkyung’s ear unknowingly. “But speak of, I pity your kids! My goodness, Seokkyung, don’t you think that was a bit harsh? They’re not from Cheong-Ah.”

Seokkyung rolls her eyes, arms crossed. “Come on, they deserve it! Have you ever heard them sing? If that performance were an audition, they wouldn’t even make it into a karaoke bar!”

Eunbyeol tsks, shaking her head. “Maybe have a little patience? You know, encouragement goes a long way. Not every student can be scolded into greatness like we were back then.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve tried encouragement,” Seokkyung lets out an exasperated sigh. “They need something stronger—like divine intervention.” But her expression softens just a bit when her gaze lands at Eunbyeol. “Oh well, you should’ve seen their faces when you sang for them—they looked positively hopeless.”

At this, Eunbyeol’s cheeks flushed a soft pink. She looks down, fumbling with the strap of her bag. If this remark comes from someone like Seokkyung, it is indeed praise worth noting. It makes it even harder for her to believe. She touches the scar on her neck, the very scar that has ruined her singing for good. “You’re… being nice. You don’t have to say that just because we’re friends.”

But then, Seokkyung seems to know that for a fact. She raises an eyebrow, her gaze unwavering as she snarks, “Haven’t you figured out that I don’t sugarcoat things?”

And so the latter could only smile shyly, the compliment settling in her chest like a pleasant warmth. Her elderly choirmates have always praised her, but now, for some reason, it sounds different with Seokkyung. This time, her praises are holding weight, something about it that makes her feel flustered in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

Actually, the fluster has been happening more often than she cares to admit.

“Alright, alright,” Eunbyeol manages to say, clearing her throat as she gathers herself. “Well, I’m flattered… I think.” Then a small laugh follows suit as she looks away. “But you could still go a little easier on them. I’m sure they’re doing their best.”

Seokkyung rolls her eyes, a glimmer of playful mischief in it. After all, lately, she seems to have a hard time denying Eunbyeol. “Fine, fine. I’ll try to be nicer. Just don’t expect me to start handing out hugs and compliments every time they sing in tune.”

“Oh god. Wouldn’t want you to break character, don’t worry.” The latter shudders at the thought of it, though it doesn’t seem that bad if Eunbyeol thinks about it. “I think they’d be too scared if you suddenly got all sweet on them.”

The warmth lingers for the rest of the afternoon especially whenever she thinks of Seokkyung’s words. Her honesty—although unfiltered most of the time—makes Eunbyeol admire her in a manner she hasn’t felt before, not in a long time at least. They part ways when evening comes, leaving Eunbyeol with a bubbling warmth in her chest.

Much to her oblivion, however, Seokkyung would feel the exact way weeks after, when she finally visits Eunbyeol’s choir practice.

At first, she finds herself sitting at the back of the church, croons of the elderly voices surrounding her as they rehearse. Eunbyeol seems to lead them, completely in her element, voice soft but commanding, as though she was born to do just that—to nurture the singing voices of people whose caliber might never even meet hers. Seokkyung watches, in awe, as she witnesses a Cheon Seojin if she instead became a teacher more passionate and gentler, merely smiling and chuckling at the mistakes her students commit, and having them really hung on to her every instruction. She can't tear her eyes away from Eunbyeol as she gently corrects the altos and nods in approval whenever her sopranos hit the right note. Eunbyeol is loved here, respected, and it’s clear she deserves it after everything she has gone through.

As much as Seokkyung doesn’t want to admit, this way of teaching bears fruit at the end of the practice because they have sung surprisingly well. A bunch of amateurs have managed to tickle Seokkyung’s ears, all because of Eunbyeol’s gentle teaching. What a day worth noting.

But most importantly, she’s afraid Eunbyeol might be wrong. These people are more than just choir members or friends as she claims so—they are like family to her, doting on her with affection that reminded Seokkyung of a time long past, a time when things were simpler when Eunbyeol was just a snarky little teenager who lives off people’s praises.

“Seokkyung!” Eunbyeol calls her out in surprise, her yelp snapping her back from the ponders. Seems like she had spotted Seokkyung in the back corner where she’d been sitting silently for the last hour, and now Eunbyeol’s face is full of worry. “How long have you been here?”

Seokkyung looks up, startled. She hadn’t realized how much time had passed, the last few hours seemingly vanishing like sand through her fingers. When she glanced around, she could see the evening light fading outside, and to her surprise, it was already past dinner time. She never expected to just sit there throughout the whole practice. Hell, she was supposed to introduce herself to Eunbyeol’s choirmates! But there’s something about the atmosphere that made her forget the ticking clock and the encroaching worries of her own feelings. 

“Oh, I just got here,” she lies, not wanting to admit she’d been sitting there far longer than she intended. “You’re busy. I didn’t want to interrupt your practice.”

Eunbyeol, still frowning, doesn’t seem convinced, but since Seokkyung looks out of it, she just softly nudges. “You must be starving then. Come on, let’s go grab dinner. You’re gonna come back here next practice and I’m gonna introduce you to them, okay?”

At dinner, they settle into a quiet corner of a small, local restaurant, with the warm scent of kimchi filling the air. Seokkyung took a sip of water before saying the thing on her mind while observing the girl. “Your choir mates seem... really kind.” 

Eunbyeol’s face lights up. “They are! They’re doting in a manner that could be quite concerning, but I like it more than I can imagine. Sometimes I feel like I’m their honorary child.” Then all of a sudden, she sounds and looks like a kid all giddy and nice with her storytelling, her voice full of warmth. “ They always ask about me, make sure I’m okay... especially the mothers. Did I mention the time when I wasn’t in the mood to eat until one of them pulled out a huge casserole of seaweed soup for everyone to share? They did it just to fill my stomach because they don’t want to see me losing weight!”

Seokkyung laughs, the sound surprisingly light. “I can see why you enjoy it here. You’re the baby of the group now, huh?”

“I love it!” Eunbyeol grins, a little sheepish. “They worry about me a lot, but... it’s kind of nice. To have people worry about someone like me, as much as I don’t deserve it.”

Seokkyung almost counters her statement quickly, but then she realizes it’s not the time for that. Not yet. “Must be nice. You seem to be equally worried about them. Doing your best to improve their singing and all that.” She stares down at her food, unsure why she suddenly feels a pang of something unfamiliar in her chest.

“Next time you come, I’ll introduce you to them! They’ve been asking about you too, you know.” Eunbyeol says enthusiastically. “They’re all curious why I’ve been hanging out with a teacher from the small art school. They think it’s adorable that I have someone my age to talk to.”

Seokkyung can’t help but laugh at the thought. “They want to set me up with someone, huh?”

“No!” Eunbyeol chuckles, shaking her head. “It’s not like that. I’d be mad if they do that.”

"Well, next time we will. I’ll have to check my schedule though. I’ve been so busy that I barely have time for anything else. The school’s been quite... well, difficult.”

Eunbyeol leans forward, concern flashing in her eyes. “What happened?”

“One of my part-time jobs didn’t pay me on time. It made me miss my rent. I’m trying to make up for it, but now the landlord’s really pushing me. I have to find a way to come up with the rent soon, really.”

Eunbyeol’s expression falters, her heart aching for Seokkyung. “You should ask Seokhoon for help. He’s doing well now, right? A successful pianist and all...”

But then, mentioning Seokhoon abruptly brings a pang of guilt in Eunbyeol’s chest. The last time she saw him, he had been nothing but kind to her. He’s the only one who had visited her at the hospital to thank her for what she had done, and to apologize for what happened to her Mom.

And Bae Rona, the person she’s been trying to rid of her head for so long.

She hadn’t seen them in years, but the thought of their successful lives made her feel like an outsider. She hurt them both so much back then, and she still feels the weight of her sins.

What cuts her ruminations off is Seokkyung shaking her head vehemently. “No! I’d rather die than ask him for help. He’s... he’s not someone I can depend on, not after everything.”

Eunbyeol falls silent. What a stubborn girl, she almost chuckles. She could see the deep pride in Seokkyung, the same pride that had driven her to such extremes in the past. It’s clear that no matter how much Seokkyung is struggling, she would rather endure it all than seek help from the people who love her.

“That’s going to kill you one day.”

Seokkyung scoffs, her eyes bitter. “Maybe it should. It’s what I deserve.”

There, Eunbyeol is rendered into silence. Seems like she’s not the only one who deems so lowly of herself. The things she had done, the people she had hurt, all that darkness still lingered in her, clouding her self-worth.

Eunbyeol bites her lip, thinking for a moment before she blurts out an unexpected offer.

“Live with me, then.”

“W-what?”

“It’s hard managing the house all on my own. It gets lonely, you know,” Eunbyeol continues, her voice more confident now. “My dad’s old place has an extra room. We don’t have to worry about rent—it’s part of a small complex he owned and rented for others before he passed away.”

Seokkyung stares at her, speechless for a long moment. “But... I can’t repay you immediately.”

Eunbyeol smiles softly, gaze steady. “In exchange, help me find a pet. That place has always been so empty since I moved in. I think a cat would bring life to it, no? How about a dog? The thought of someone waiting for me at home kind of excites me!”

Seokkyung hesitates, her mind spinning. The offer seems too good to be true. She had been downplaying the situation with her landlord, but now it seemed like this might be the lifeline she needed.

Finally, she nods meekly, so unlikely of the prideful Joo Seokkyung. “O-okay. I’ll think about it.”

They share a quiet moment sitting across from each other, both tentative yet hopeful. They both have their burdens, but for the first time in a long time, they’re not carrying them alone.

<<< prev

[bremont]

(via (181) King Crimson - Epitaph (1969) Lyrics Video - YouTube)

Epitaph (1969)The wall on which the prophets wrote...Knowledge is a deadly friend If no one sets the rules The fate of all mankind I see Is in the hands of fools🧐🌎🙃🪃📡 Is cracking at the seams🛰️ Upon the instruments of death The sunlight brightly gleams When every man is torn apart With nightmares and with dreams Will no one lay the laurel wreath When silence drowns the screams Confusion will be my epitaph As I crawl a cracked and broken path If we make it we can all sit back and

[libidomechanica]

No major tension in the dead, sunk though can show my wilfulness

Come, let me ending wroth at once had set in secret,     fool, to the tempest’s roaring old rhyme at, because he had to herself, and air were     which hold. ’St have lain wherewithall

then they knew himself, and slits the bank and clothe thin!     With sweetly single leaf to look back my night is chieftain’s trophies—not of those the garden-     rose the Scotia’s sweeping, and Phillis

was they will teach other care the bard Bracy     the same.—No major tension in the dead, sunk though can show my wilfulness take thistle,     and bells from things presence in the hid

and such out where the flowers of other sage, and     shelter’d to die ere I sorrow with mankind’s apart; open this bate, for her, but even     bury me, burying, dancing

thrown in other is by Nature’s deep of all this     gold. Inebriate of nation, but read joy spark of the ravish hat fragility,     for life and flower has made her fate:

no high life—intense, will not what the stopp’d forth to     force in track, and leaven’d, like a reed, as a morning me along; valour wishes him     counsel me, this garden urn—weave, weave,

weave them to be borne on by her sire, the sands     of four green grass upon me, the covet most; and ices, have drawn apart, and draughts dally     when this Canto; where melted in

the earth Hell! Like foam that she had too longer fly     like one consequence? A handful of May, and wheedle a world that followers to your     nature Mine? Juan and a term of your

feelings bearing us all. My most would     perpendicular. Down to the last are hardly had lively brave gallant friends, come too; you changed,     there arrives a sent, when I pursuit.

[cleverlittlekobold]

And in the naked light, I saw Ten thousand people, maybe more People talking without speaking People hearing without listening People writing songs that voices never shared

[...]

And the people bowed and prayed To the neon god they made The Sound of Silence, Simon & Garfunkel

The wall on which the prophets wrote Is cracking at the seams Upon the instruments of death The sunlight brightly gleams

[...]

Knowledge is a deadly friend If no one sets the rules The fate of all mankind I see Is in the hands of fools

Epitaph, King Crimson

In other AI adventures, there's Suno.com, which can take a simple prompt or set of lyrics and genre and turn it into a song in real time.

I highly recommend trying it, if for no reason than to know what all the low effort tiktok songs will sound like in a few months.

Lyrics (Prompt?) under readmore

Catchy Instrumental intro. Solo violin and piano with dark synth [dark bardcore viola electro swing]. sweet female vocal

[Verse] I'll kill you in the subtext I'll murder you between the lines There's not a scrap of context Your ending was left undefined There's not a scrap in the final draft Of what I’ve left behind But under the words When closely observed Your body unalived

[Chorus] It can’t be seen upon the stage You’re stuffed beneath the floorboards In the view of children of every age A puppet takes all the rewards The happy ending and ever after I kept it all from you, unalived

[Verse 2] The curtain falls on a charade so sweet Where masks hide deceit, laid bare but discreet In the silence between each whispered breath Lies the echo of a tragic untimely death No roses thrown upon the stage No mourning wails, no solace sought Just the hollow echo of a life unmade In shadows where the truth was caught

[Chorus] It can’t be seen upon the stage You’re stuffed beneath the floorboards In the view of children of every age A puppet takes all the rewards The happy ending and ever after I kept it all from you, unalived

[Bridge] You were the lead in this masquerade Yet your fate was sealed, a cruel escapade I penned your demise with careful grace In ink and rhyme, in every secret place

[Chorus] It can’t be seen upon the stage You’re stuffed beneath the floorboards In the view of children of every age A puppet takes all the rewards The happy ending and ever after I kept it all from you, unalived

[Outro] But beneath the surface, in the depths unseen Lies the truth of what could have been

[END] [END] [END]

[maguro13-2]

Shattered Hero ~ Origins of the Ink Demon Pt. 12 ~

Seto : Hmmm...I don't know why was I here? I wonder what's the secret ingredient to the Mabuki race that existed within real world au. Huh? That's strange, I thought witchkind had the opportunity to use a transmuation circle to create the weapons. Wait a sec, I'm getting something that is amiss. This transmutation circle wasn't witchkind's creation for the mabuki they were...

Death the Kid : Used for experiments on taking over the Kasugatani tree!

[Shadow Android - Jun Senoue]

Seto : You! Death the Kid! Was this your father's doing!? I knew that I would you know your secret, kid!

Death the Kid (?) : You are correct, the Demon Weapons are were created by my father or his name was Shotaro the Dokeshi. I hardly knew that the men of Shinra's influence has kept the truth out of the public eye and the witches their selves. But FYI, I'm not really Death the Kid! (reveals his true form and appears to be Death from Castlevania) It's me, Dracula's servant Death!

Seto : It's you! You're that Grim Reaper guy from Dracula's Castle! Death!

Death : That's right, Seto the Deathless reaper girl! You have finally knew the oldest trick in the book! There is no Shinigami in the land of Nevada, it was only me who gave humans to be under the influence of the Kusakabe. But the Kusakabe were much bigger fools than the Albarn their selves.

Seto : Bigger fools than the albarn and the Kasugatani? *DING!* Now I finally understand what's going on with Soul Eater stuff coming from Square! DWMA, the hatred against Ashley's kind, It was you! You ordered all this! You were the one that got the witches involved!

Death : No, not me. Well, perhaps...I did gave Shotaro the Dokeshi a proper order to not overthrow the Kusakabe legacy from being ever being destroyed so that the influence can make those teenagers stronger!

Seto : You grim reaping son of a b**ch! I am going to make you pay!

[Neith (Risky) - Maki Kirioka]

Death : Then come at me! I will show Dracula's legacy ever to be unfolded! This is why I choose to fight from the likes of the Belmonts! And it shall be your fate that will be sealed properly!

Seto : ...Damn YOUUUUU!!! HUAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

(battle begins as the two starts clashing)

Seto : YOU SOUL-EATING LYING PIECE OF SH**! YOU BACKSTABBING REAPING TATTLE TALE! YOU DID THIS TO WITCHKIND! YOU ORDERED EVERYONE TO DESTROY THEM! YOU ARE A FOOL TO THE REAL WORLD!

Death : Ha! They only did obey my orders under the influence of Shinra Kusakabe and did a fine and wonderful job on helping me to collect the souls that I, Death from Castlevania, shall become Japan's newest Shinigami!

Seto : URUSAI! URUSAI!!! I will never forgive you for this! Lies! Lies! All lies! You got everyone into the lying of Shinra Kusakabe, you used the Thompson Sisters as puppets so that you would gain control of Real World and the political forces itself!

Death : Hahahahaha! I am going to enjoy this battle to make you suffer as a wealking if only one of is the current and newest Shinigami, I will be prove useful to the rulers of the cosmos. That Shotaro dokeshi has been a fool to wander blindly into my trap! Making the fake Shinigami that Shinra Kusakabe created.

Seto : So the Shinigami that Shinra created has been a fake?! He was created to protect mankind and witchkind together, not kill Ashley's kind! You the made the witches as their sworn enemies, that's a race war, not a conflict!

Death : Serves the heartless right!

(the two continues clashing)

Death : What's wrong, Deathless? Can't take it seriously? I hope you're willing to die at the hands of me and watching this planet suffer from a terrible fate! Do you accept the loyalty of Death itself!

Seto : I don't trust a faker like you and you will not get away with this!

Death : (chuckles) Oh, it's possibly true, but I shall be the one that is getting away with it, starting with you and the fate of Witchkind! I will take the soul of Witchkind's leader and become the ultimate reaper on destroying the heartless intrustion.

Seto : Kill the leader of Witchkind? You mean Mabaa, the future mayor of Salem? You were planning on assassinating a leader? That's murder! Killing a mayor does help the DWMA to maintain the public order, it was about bringing political refuges and monpolization! You led every youth from across the globe to serve under you, only you! You said that the meisters would maintain public order! Everyone trusted you!

Death : Guess what? I lied to them all!

Seto : Well, screw you too for that and screw Soul World! It's going to be an immediate game over for you and the legacy!

Death : It would've been much of a threat if the heartless would be corrupting the Kasugatani family tree by now. But I believe that our little game of charades is over. Die, Deathless!

(CLANG!)

Death : Ahh! What treachery!?

[The Lost Painting (SSBBU ver.) - Michiru Yamane]

Death : What!? Not you! Son of Dracula! Alucard!

Alucard : Hello, Death. So you're the one behind all of this. So the entire school run by that Dokeshi named Shotaro was actually a fron for the World Heroes Force Organization. I suspected to who is lying from before.

Death : How on earth did you know that?

Alucard : When I was looking into information from the Kusakabe Archives, I knew that DWMA was the spiritual successor and part of the of the World Heroes Force organization. Shotaro the Dokeshi who was really involved of protecting the legacy which was a direct order from you. How can I even trust a servant that is unwittingly know to get everyone into this lying. Now I know what you really are, you're the Death Weapon Meister Academy's co-founder, Dracula's servant Death!

Death : What!? No! It can't be! I'm the school's founder! So you knew that I was into the lying of Shinra Kusakabe, Alucard! How did you know that everyone was involved to get into the lying!?

Alucard : Because you told everything to me, Grim Reaper!

Death : You...You'll regret this, Alucard! That is why I promised to make sure that you'll ever be sorry from the Kusakabe their selves! Have it your way, son of Dracula! *instant transmission*

Seto : Yeah! You better run, but you can't hide forever!

Alucard : Heh. Serves him right. But it's not like that he can get away with this. Otherwise, if Death ever gets to the Kasugatani Family tree, Witchkind will be gone and cease to exist! We can't let anyone ever get into the lying!

[RE: Code Veronica OST : Love Theme]

Seto : Lying? You mean the heroes of Soul World are...

Alucard : Yes, every hero of Soul World was into the lying. There's was never any evil witches, the idiot servant Death has been giving orders to the teenagers to bring political refuges just get the heartless' attention, but we finally figured it out the that the evil forces were a diversion all along. I blame the author of their world for that, Shinra Kusakabe must pay for the lying that has caused to witchkind.

Seto : I...I guess you're right about that. Whatever it takes for me to become Shinigami, I must prove Maka Albarn that everything was all part of the biggest lie ever made from Shinra Kusakabe and let truth to win!

Alucard : You got that right. That's one going in the bag. I better get back to the castle before sunrise. I don't wanna loose my wake up call from early mornings. I always sleep in the day and wake up in the darkness. (walks off before leaving)

Seto : Hey, Alucard!

Alucard : Yeah, what is it?

Seto : (bows down to greet) Thank you, for your help

Alucard : Nah, that's my line. (walks away and leaves)

"I won't forgive anyone who tries to waste our world like trash!"

"I am the ultimate reaper that is ever part of a story!"

"This is my world to protect from those that are liars"

"And each liar shall face judgement to the truth itself!"

"That is what my purpose to save the world by me, Seto the Deathless girl!"

~ Act 12 : The True Soul Reaper ~

[telmn]

𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝.

@benediikta asked: She's been at Cidolfus' bedside since Eva brought him to rest in this small recovery room. Though a caretaker she is not, Benedikta was insistent in watching over him and knew well enough certain methods from what seem to be part of past life now; before the Chief Intelligencer, even before Garuda stirred within her ribcage. But, there was only so much she could manage when sleep pulled at her demanding a necessary relief. She would meet it halfway, bringing in a pillow and pulling up a chair as a trifling solution. She holds that posture now as she settles near him. ❝ I suppose I should be relieved you still sleep. That way I cannot hear you say 'I told you so'. ❞ Melancholy smile twitches at the corner of her lips, somber furrow of her brow follows. She gazes upon him before resting her head against the cushion and reaches out to hold his hand, her thumb brushing along his knuckles. ❝ But I need you to wake up… ❞ comes the soft whisper, ❝ so I can tell you you were right and I see the smug look on your face that I loathe so much. ❞ An amused hum, but eyelids become too heavy to keep open and it isn't long before slumber finally seeks to claim her.

𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒, 𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄. In his dreams, he is on a distant shore. In his dreams, there are no more battles to be waged. None go hungry, none lay idle in sickness; the pain && anguish && misery he has long since fought to ease doesn't exist. In his mind's eye, there is peace as best it may come to be. For he's no fool to believe that mankind is anything but callous && coarse to the bone. Where the sinew makes a home && slips across knuckles that bind in a knotted fist. Or the way jaws go tense at the sight of a bearer. Perhaps even the desperation of a man stripped of his freedom. In his dreams, she is free. Wings on the wind---no longer clipped && held beneath boot. No chains to bind her to the will of another && nothing to bloody her ledger. There's liberation in every aspect of his life that he holds so near && dear. Could she ever come to terms with the reality that he has wanted only the best for her since that fateful day? What of the pendant he bestowed to her those years ago? Or the way she looked upon him in pleading when he was stolen away by the ambition in his heart && the desire to be more than a pawn.. no longer the bootlicker for The Mad King. Lord Commander, no more. She is free. They are free. The world is of equal measure to good && bad. Balanced, as all things should be. Which could come as no surprise when the time comes that rest leaves him. He is no longer bound to a slumber that serves its purpose of tending to a mortal wound, unable to heal by the will an eikon. There is ache, resonating pain, && yet all the same there is gratefulness to be alive. Though Cidolfus was more than willing to die for his goals, give his life to the cause, the humanity in him longed to see the day that he might turn his head upon linens && see Benedikta there. Willfully present in the same space, tucked close && safe. He ignores the pain welling within him. Pushes through the stiffness so that fingertips might gingerly brush along the bridge of delicate nose. && he smiles.

[luvetlux]

Peter John Sinfield (born 27 December 1943) is an English poet, lyricist and artist, most famously known as the lyricist and co-founding member of early incarnations of King Crimson, whose debut album In the Court of the Crimson King has been regarded as one of the most influential progressive rock albums ever released. In 2005, Sinfield was noted as a "Prog rock hero" in Q magazine, for his impressive lyrical contribution and creative influence while working within the rock music industry. As a lyricist, Sinfield has a distinctive approach to the sounds of words, filled with surreal (and sometimes fiercely sexual) imagery, and a special facility with water-images and ideas involving the sea.

Peter Sinfield reading Epitaph (King Crimson) at the Genoa Poetry Festival, Palazzo Ducale, Italy 2010, 1968 Filmed by Franz Soprani http://franz.it/

EPITAPH including MARCH FOR NO REASON and TOMORROW AND TOMORROW (Fripp, Lake, McDonald, Giles, Sinfield)

The wall on which the prophets wrote Is cracking at the seams. Upon the instruments of death The sunlight brightly gleams. When every man is torn apart With nightmares and with dreams, Will no one lay the laurel wreath As silence drowns the screams.

Between the iron gates of fate, The seeds of time were sown, And watered by the deeds of those Who know and who are known; Knowledge is a deadly friend When no-one sets the rules. The fate of all mankind I see Is in the hands of fools.

Confusion will be my epitaph. As I crawl a cracked and broken path If we make it we can all sit back and laugh. But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying, Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Robert Fripp–guitar Ian McDonald–reeds, woodwind, vibes, keyboards, mellotron, vocals Greg Lake–bass guitar, lead vocals Michael Giles–drums, percussion, vocals Peter Sinfield–words and illumination

Cover by Barry Godber Equipment by Vick and Dik Recorded at Wessex Sound Studios, London Engineer: Robin Thompson Assistant Engineer: Tony Page Produced by King Crimson for EG Productions, ‘David & John’