#the ghosts of my life blew wilder than the wind

[jt1674]

[lookatmysillies]

Castor ALNST Sample Songs

You arrived in my dream / Beside me every night, just you and me

Well, I hope to discover all of your ways / This place is death, I know you feel the same

Just when I thought I could not be stopped / When my chance came to be king

The ghosts of my life / Blew wilder than the wind

Take out the stories / They've put into your mind

And brace for the glory / As you stare into the sky

[roger-paladino]

🪓 Patrick Andersen

I have a handful of songs that I associate with him but this one specifically sticks with me.

"Just when I think I'm winning When I've broken every door The ghosts of my life blow wilder than before Just when I thought I could not be stopped When my chance came to be king The ghosts of my life blew wilder than the wind"

I think it relates to how he acted between the phone call in princeton and the scene where he was telling Shaun that because Stormy was there with them it was coming to an end. He thought things were wrapping up, but in the end they weren't and Habit and slenderman were there to send him right back to the begining.

[decadent-hag]

Anyway, just when I thought I could not be stopped, when my chance came to be king the ghosts of my life blew wilder than the wind

[spielkritik]

Lesenswert: Beat the Beat, Colorization Hacks, Shenmues Suzhou, Vampyrs Rumän(i)en, Mickey & The Temple of No / Hörenswert: Forbidden Quest

Just when I think I’m winningWhen I’ve broken every doorThe ghosts of my life blow wilder than beforeJust when I thought I could not be stoppedWhen my chance came to be kingThe ghosts of my life blew wilder than the wind So klagten schon Anfang der 80er Jahre die Mitglieder der britischen Band Japan. Und tatsächlich muss man nicht Pac-Man heißen, um sich von seinen persönlichen (Gaming-)Geistern…

[talesofxanje]

The Abominable Snowgrune

I had heard tales of a mysterious ghost creature haunting the snowy peaks and frozen valleys of northern Indulain, and despite numerous warnings from the locals, my curiosity would not be denied. With a pack full of gear and wearing my warmest winter clothes, I set out into the wilderness to try to catch a glimpse of this frozen phantom.

For nearly a week, I saw no other living creature, the fields and forests blanketed by a deep layer of heavy snow, the smaller creatures tucked into their dens to sleep through the worst of the cold. I was starting to think they had the right idea when I found the first sign that I was not alone.

Tracks in the snow gave me my first hint of what sort of creature I was looking for. The paws were massive, wider by far than my own gloved hand, but almost completely obscured, as if someone had followed along behind this creature and swept the snow over them with a broom. I followed the tracks for over a mile, discovering along the way the frozen carcass of a half-eaten poison horse.

Well aware that the flesh of these horses is extremely toxic due to the poisonous vegetation it eats, I expected to find a dead or dying carnivore nearby, but the tracks led up into a rocky outcropping and I lost the trail.

I searched the area for days, until my supplies began to run low and I had to think about heading back to civilization. That was when I found the second sign.

I smelled the fresh pine sap before I saw the marks, some ten feet up the trunk of an old, gnarled tree. Something had dug its claws into the thick bark and peeled it away like it was skin of a ripe fruit. The size and power of an animal capable of making such a mark was simply staggering, and I was more determined than ever to at least catch a glimpse of this beast.

It was a foolish decision that nearly killed me.

I had returned to the frozen horse carcass, hoping that hunger would drive this creature into the open. I didn't notice the heavy, black storm clouds gathering over the valley until the wind picked up and the snow began to fall, cold, stinging flakes pelting my face, biting at my exposed skin.

I headed for the trees, where it would be at least somewhat sheltered from the snow, but the wind howled, the snow swirling around me until I couldn't see more than a foot in front of my face. Disoriented in a blizzard, I stumbled and crawled through the drifting snow, searching for anything I could shelter against. I found a rock, hardly tall enough to stop the wind, but I hunkered down on the lee side and tucked my nose into the collar of my coat to wait out the storm.

I had heard that your eyes play tricks on you in a blizzard, seeing shapes and shadows that vanish in a flurry of flakes, leading you astray as you chase something that doesn't exist. Huddled against a stone with the snow piling up around me, I thought I was imagining the hulking figure that glided through the storm, a pale shadow within the swirling wall of white.

It came closer and I glimpsed a pair of amber eyes as it leaped at me! I ducked, covering my head with my arms, bracing to feel razor-sharp claws rip through my flesh. Instead, a warm weight settled over me, and a deep, soft rumble drowned out the wailing of the storm. I raised my head, my cheek pressing into thick, soft fur. The creature was crouched above me, sheltering me from the blizzard, and it was...purring?

It was an hour, maybe longer, before the storm blew itself out. The wind died as quickly as it had sprung up, and the snow fell in tiny, glittery flakes all around us. Without a sound, the creature rose and loped away. I scrambled up onto the rock, watching as it headed for the trees. Just before it disappeared into the forest, the winter ghost paused and glanced back.

I never saw it again, but I will never forget that moment, or how it saved my life.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed my little story.

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[bunnieghostt]

the ghosts of my life blew wilder than the wind

[cwarscars]

MUSIC

Send me “MUSIC” and I’ll pick a song that reminds me of your muse

imagine dragons - radioactive

I'm waking up to ash and dust I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust I'm breathing in the chemicals

I'm breaking in, shaping up, then checking out on the prison bus This is it, the apocalypse

( i chose this song because i read it as a song written from the perspective of somebody facing a sort of apoclayptic / end-of-the-world scenario and though they're a part of them ( hence the whole, radioactive thing ) - they're defiant in the face of it? i see jill as being sort of like that. especially after she's infected in re3 / controlled by wesker. she's a /part/ of the 'infection' 'is radioactive' but is still openly defiant & runs with it despite how it hinders her. i hope that makes sense - )

japan - ghosts

When the room is quiet The daylight almost gone It seems there's something I should know Well I ought to leave but the rain it never stops And I've no particular place to go

Just when I think I'm winning When I've broken every door The ghosts of my life blow wilder than before Just when I thought I could not be stopped When my chance came to be king The ghosts of my life blew wilder than the wind

( this song's a really haunting one that i always feel applies to muses who have an internal / mental struggle stemming from their past. i think it suits jill perhaps during that period after the mansion incident - where she's sort of stuck in raccoon and torn between STARS / leaving with chris to fight umbrella. i included the chorus because it's that whole 'being haunted by the ghosts of your past', no matter how successful or strong you are - regrets will always be there, as will those missed. i feel like jill would have a lot to mourn from the people she's lost over the years )

[makotoscoffee]

ghosts by japan laurent song hnnnng

[contreparry]

So excited to see you taking prompts for DADWC!! from the vague prompts 2 list “My bleeding out, is that what sets you free?” for fenders please 🥺

I’ll try my best with this one! It’s such a good prompt and has been a struggle because I want to do it justice, but here’s what I have written for @dadrunkwriting ! It’s set in a nebulous post-breakup, mending relationship Fenders set between Dragon Age II and Inquisition.

Anders collapsed halfway up the mountain.

The weather turned on them around mid-afternoon, when the wind blew the ominous thunderclouds that hung in the west towards the mountains. As the rain poured down on their heads and the thunder roared and lightning shot through the sky like arrows, Fenris debated the merits of turning back. The town they just left was hosting a Templar regiment, and the townspeople weren’t hospitable towards him, but a provincial Ostwick town had to be better than the wilderness during a spring storm. Fenris turned his head to ask his new traveling companion for his thoughts, and realized-

“You might have said that you were struggling,” Fenris grumbled as he carefully navigated the slippery path down the mountain to reach Anders. Anders rolled over into his back, his hood flung off his head, his face lifted to the sky. He had grown his stubble out into a full beard, the red hair streaked with gray, and exhaustion lined his every feature, but it was still Anders. Fenris couldn’t forget his face, his narrow, long nose, his exhausted brown eyes that hovered between amber and polished mahogany.

“And slow you down? Never,” Anders joked feebly. He tried to get his feet underneath him and winced. There was something... odd about the angle of his foot. Twisted ankle, Fenris realized as he drew near and knelt next to Anders’ prone form. Rainwater soaked through the thick fabric of his leggings.

“We were going to stop for the day anyhow,” Fenris muttered. He reached out for Anders, grasped his forearm, and lifted him until his arm was looped around his shoulders and he could more easily help the man to safety. For all his added height Anders weighed practically nothing. Travel through the wilds had clearly not been kind to him. Would the man even be alive if Fenris hadn’t bothered to track him down? Anders seemed determined to wither away as he traveled from town to town, healing the sick and then disappearing like a ghost. It had taken months to hear word of him, then more months of traveling to track him down. Fenris was always two steps behind of the latest rumor, the last healed patient, the last furious Chantry official who let the man slip out of their grasp. But Fenris finally found Anders in the mountains between Starkhaven and Ostwick, traveling from settlement to settlement in search of... Fasta Vass, Fenris couldn’t even begin to imagine what Anders was looking for in the wilderness. Redemption? Absolution? Peace?

“You could always go back. I hear Prince Vael’s looking for a skilled swordsman to lop my head off,” Anders remarked as Fenris propped the man upright. His smile was twisted and sour as an unripe lemon. Fenris rolled his eyes and took a step forward, helping Anders along the narrow, winding path up the mountain. There was a rocky outcropping only meters above. Surely that would provide enough shelter to help them outlast the storm.

“As I have said time and again, I have no intentions of passing on what was carved into me,” Fenris muttered. “And I promised to look after you.”

Anders laughed at that. “Good ol’ Hawke. How’s she faring?”

“Fled Kirkwall like most of us. Isabela’s keeping an eye on her,” Fenris replied.

“Most of us?”

“Merrill elected to remain in the Alienage. The people need a leader, and she is... capable,” Fenris grudgingly admitted. For all of her scatterbrained behavior and pride and recklessness, Merrill was a woman who cared for the people around her and knew how to lead them. She spent most of her life training for such a role, after all. If anyone could protect Kirkwall’s vulnerable elvhen population, it was Merrill who could and would do it best.

“Careful, Fenris, that was almost a compliment,” Anders said before gasping in pain. Fenris hoisted him up onto his back.

“You will injure yourself further if you try walking now,” Fenris chided. For all the rain and wind, Anders was warm. Perhaps too warm. Did humans run at these temperatures? Was Anders ill and trying to hide it? Fenris adjusted his grip and continued to climb the mountain in search of shelter.

“Just dump me off the side of the mountain,” Anders retorted, but his weak grip around Fenris’ chest tightened. For all his self-sacrificing tendencies, it seemed there was still enough of the Anders Fenris once knew (once cared for) that didn’t want to die in the wilds.

Good. Fenris marched onwards.

The overhang was deeper than he first estimated. It might have once served as a den for a wild animal- perhaps a bear or a wolf, but it was long abandoned by said animals. Some enterprising traveler (who had evidently encountered similar hostile weather in these mountains in the past) set the cave up as a rest area, for there was a stack of dry branches against the far wall. Fenris set Anders down, helping him sit before he dropped his pack to the ground and tore through it for supplies. Flint. Bedroll. Bandages. Good enough to begin with.

“I can heal this,” Anders said as Fenris approached with bandages in hand. Anders grimaced, his skin pale and forehead dotted with sweat and raindrops even as he protested and tried to drag his injured leg away from Fenris’ reach. The movement shouldn’t have hurt. Fenris wasn’t the one who was injured, after all. But it made him ache to think that Anders didn’t trust him with this one simple thing. Once they shared so much, and now...

“You can rest,” Fenris retorted. “Save your energy.” Perhaps Anders no longer trusted him, and Fenris didn’t trust him much either, but he still cared, still... still longed! There was a part of him, a great part, that wanted to take Anders in his arms and hold onto him and make him promise that he wouldn’t run off again. But wouldn’t that be a cage by another name? Wouldn’t that just be another prison of his own making? He couldn’t cage Anders. He refused to. But he wouldn’t let the man wander the wilderness alone with hunters dogging his every step, just as Anders refused to chain him to his life of running, refused to be yet another Mage in charge of his destiny. Oh, Fenris understood why Anders ran from Kirkwall and didn’t tell him where he was running to. He just thought it was foolish.

“I’m fine. You can go back to Kirkwall, or wherever. It’s dangerous for you out here, even with Danarius gone,” Anders said. He looked away from him, stared out of the cave and into the misty wilderness.

“There will always be Magisters, always be slave-owners and slave-catchers. They’ll look for me wherever I am,” Fenris argued. So why not travel with you, was the question he wanted to ask, wanted to scream into Anders’ face. Why run from me? Why hide so much from me? You could trust me with your body, with your past, with your hurts, but you couldn’t trust me with your secrets, with your dreams, with your future?

Some trust that was. Anders seemed to be thinking along similar lines. How was it that, after all this time, after all these secrets, they were still of such matched ways of thinking? Soulmates were the thing of bawdy tales and dramatic operas, the thing that poets wrote of and dreamers wept over, but sometimes... sometimes Fenris wondered if he and Anders were of matched souls, of matched minds, capable of understanding each other in ways that no one else could.

“You deserve better,” Anders sighed, as if he meant it.

“I could say the same of you,” Fenris retorted, and he did. For all that they were and all they had become, Anders deserved more than what life gave him. They all did: Hawke, who was haunted by the ghosts of her family as she ran once more from home. Aveline, who was saddled with a city in a crisis once again, Isabela, who ran from her beloved sea to keep her beloved safe. Merrill, who was now leading a people who didn’t quite know what to make of her. Sebastian, who was fully lost in his fog of rage and sorrow. Varric, who was using his silver tongue to lie and lie and buy his friends just a little more time to escape... and Anders. And himself. Two idiots lost in the wilderness, trying to figure out who they were to each other once again.

Once upon a time, before all of... this. Before Kirkwall exploded and their tight-knit crew was scattered to the winds, broken beyond repair, they would have been snuggly shoved together at a table at The Hanged Man. Perhaps they would be playing cards in front of a roaring fire. Anders would be losing, and Fenris would cheat to try and make the loss a little less humiliating, and no one would comment on it. He would nudge Anders’ foot with his own, drag the tip of his foot up to trace Anders’ calf and watch him shudder from across the table. And when the night was over Fenris would drag Anders out to the back and shove him against a wall and drag his tongue across his throat before grasping a fistful of his hair and pulling him down into a biting kiss-

So it wasn’t romantic. They didn’t have time to be romantic, and they probably would never have a chance to again. But it had been... nice. Fenris missed it.

“My bleeding out, is that what sets you free?” Anders asked as Fenris slowly eased his boot off his right foot. “If you brought me to Sebastian, chained in irons, and-”

“Don’t finish that thought,” Fenris ordered. The boot slid off Anders’ leg with little resistance. Fenris examined his injured ankle. Twisted. The flesh was swollen and the skin was red. Anders flinched when Fenris touched it.

“If you did that, could it protect you?” Anders pressed forward, because he was a fool who never knew when to stop. “A Viscount and a hero might not keep the hunters away, and a fugitive never could, but a prince...”

“I will not buy my freedom with yours,” Fenris said shortly. “I will brace and bind your ankle. You can heal it in the morning.” A compromise. Anders would rest before he used his magic, but not nearly as long as Fenris would like. Fenris could not fix this injury. He couldn’t fix a lot of things. But he could be here. He could stay. For once, Fenris could stay.

“Maker’s balls, but you’re a stubborn bastard,” Anders muttered.

“It’s the only way I can be,” Fenris replied. He looked up into Anders’ face, into that tired, wondering, beloved face. He rose up to his knees, cupped Anders’ thin cheek in his rough palm, and leaned closer. Gently, so gently, because they were both men who weren’t used to the soft things in life, Fenris lifted his head and kissed Anders, soft and sweet, the two of them rain soaked and shivering from the cold but free.

Blissfully, blissfully free.

[g0rg0n-heap]

Just when I thought I could not be stopped

When my chance came to be king

The ghosts of my life blew wilder than the wind

[rock-n-roll-redux]

"When my chance came to be king, the ghosts of my life blew wilder than the wind..." David Sylvian - Japan

[your-turn-to-role]

hey, don’t know if your critrole playlists include essek but if they do, ghosts by japan always gives me big essek vibes

it does now!

and oh wow that’s an interesting sound, like the lyrics work but them on their own don’t come close to the vibe

(which yeah, it’s just unsettling enough to work really well)

[When the room is quiet The daylight almost gone It seems there's something I should know Well I ought to leave but the rain it never stops And I've no particular place to go]

[Well I'm feeling nervous Now I find myself alone The simple life's no longer there Once I was so sure Now the doubt inside my mind Comes and goes but leads nowhere]

[Just when I think I'm winning When I've broken every door The ghosts of my life blow wilder than before Just when I thought I could not be stopped When my chance came to be king The ghosts of my life blew wilder than the wind]

[senselessyears]

                                                   Just when I thought I could not be stopped                                               When my chance came to be king                    The ghosts of my life blew wilder than the wind . . .

                                                                                  [ promo credit @musicprinted ]

[heccuba]

Get to know my muse in 8 songs or less.

Music is a great way to get a sense of a character’s personality, history, or general vibes. You might only have a handful of songs you associate your muse, or you could have a massive playlist that’s impossible to list. Songs make it for all kinds of reasons: the lyrics, the genre, or maybe you just found the song at random and it stuck. The purpose of this meme is to introduce your muse in the span of one album or less, share some of your musical inspiration, or even stuff you’re into right now while you write! You can explain as much or as little as you like (multimuses are welcome to do one track per character too!).

Lullaby by The Cure: This song is a fun nightmare narrative. It's actually one of the first songs I ever associated with her. I think it was probably even help in creating a theme for her background??? "For it's much too late to get away or turn on the light/The Spiderman is having you for dinner tonight."

I Can't Escape Myself by The Sound: Just a good ol' helping of self-loathing with this one. "So many feelings/Pent up in here/Left all alone, I'm with/the one I most fear/I'm sick and I'm tired/Of reasoning/Just want to break out/Shake off this skin." The lyrics are simple, but hit hard. And when coupled with the harsh noise of the guitar and the monotonous beating of the drum, they tell a story similar to how she experiences her mental illness.

Tonight by Iggy Pop: The best way I can describe this one is that a soft soul went to the depression disco and I think that's beautiful lmao. Iggy's voice is rough; it's the voice of someone whose been through some shit and it brings out a really bittersweet feeling in the song which translates well to Hecuba's character and general mood.

A Forest by The Cure: Atmospheric af and the lyrics just fit way too well? Tbh, if I had to pick one artist to represent her as a whole, The Cure would be it. "Come closer and see/See into the trees/Find the girl/If you can...The girl was never there/It's always the same/I'm running towards nothing/Again and again..."

But Not Tonight by Depeche Mode: This song reminds me of a rebirth of sorts and I consider Hecuba leaving her opressive household to start her journey as such. "And I haven't felt so alive/In years/The moon/Is shining in the sky/Reminding me/Of so many other nights/When my eyes have been so red/I've been mistaken for dead/But not tonight."

Flowers By The Door by T.S.O.L.: As is evident by her shenanigans, Hecuba isn't really the picture of homeostasis or stability. In the troughs of her mood (to put it lightly), this song resonates with her. "All my life it has been a dream/An endless nightmare so it seems."

Ghosts by Japan: I mean...it's on brand in the literal sense, but I promise it's more than that!!! Hecuba's ability to communicate with the dead is both a blessing and a curse. It's something she's passionate about but really gets in the way of any semblance of normality so when he says, "Just when I think I'm winning/When I've broken every door/The ghosts of my life blow wilder than before," that shit stings. She'll do something hugely dangerous for a dead stranger's voice and feel pretty good about it but then the flood of new voices knocks her back. "Just when I thought I could not be stopped/When my chance came to be king/The ghosts of my life blew wilder than the wind." It could also reference her lasting father trauma. But also just...what a weird little song.

Pink Frost by The Chills: This is a song she connects to her late mother and I think it's pretty self-explanatory. "She won't move and I'm holding her head...What can I do if she's lost?/Just the thought fills my heart with pink frost."

BONUS TRACKS: Post a joke song, a song fitting a relationship, or anything else you couldn’t make room for (limit 2)!  

Wolfcat by Still Woozy: This song is like a whole ass relationship-with-Hecuba vibe. "No, I never mind/Do it a thousand times/Just let me close to you." There's an underlying tone of longing in the softest way possible, (even when they're physically close) and that really strikes home with her.

Starman (Single Mix) by David Bowie: I headcanon this to be one of her favorite songs and she has mad respect for Bowie. That's it: just a fun fact. "That weren't no DJ, that was hazy cosmic jive."

[vaindelaux]

.when my chance came to be king the ghosts of my life blew wilder than the wind.