#the percussive force of it is shocking

[elpsycongruent]

i heard a song so beautiful i started crying???

[blasphemousclaw]

why Divine Beast Dancing Lion has the best soundtrack in the entire game

When I watched the first DLC trailer 6 months ago, I was so focused on Messmer that I never gave the lion dancers a second thought. But in a shocking turn of events, Divine Beast Dancing Lion is now my favorite boss in the whole game. To me, what makes this fight truly exceptional is its soundtrack, so I want to go through the music and outline all the things that make it so great!

What makes the music stand out is that it feels SO different from the rest of the OST… the majority of the boss tracks have a pretty similar style and instrumentation, but Divine Beast stands out in my opinion because of how it emphasizes its rhythm and texture.

Conceptually, this boss fight is first and foremost a dance — you are fighting two Hornsent warriors operating a lion costume based on the traditional Chinese lion dance in an arena that’s actually a giant stage.

The Chinese lion dance is typically accompanied only by percussion (drums, gongs, and cymbals). So naturally, Divine Beast’s soundtrack has much more pronounced percussion in comparison to the rest of the soundtrack, featuring heavy drum beats and cymbals, plus shouts and chants from the choir. The music is in a steady 6/8, with 2 beats per measure divided into three pulses (think 1 2 3, 1 2 3) giving it a lilting, dancelike quality (this type of meter is often used in folk and traditional dances!). And, in the boss’s second phase, the dancing lion’s lightning, wind, and frost phases each have their own music and are timed to transition as the music transitions. The whole boss fight is programmed like a dance, so when you fight the boss it feels like you’re dancing with it too!

The choir has a range of vocalizations that goes beyond singing melodies and harmonies; as I touched on before, they’re also shouting and chanting. The shouts are used percussively and help accent the rhythm of the dance, and the low chanting also brings to mind a sort of religious ritual? Which is exactly what this boss fight is… in Hornsent culture, the lion dance is a ritual for invoking divinity:

“A charm depicting the crazed, cavorting dance of the divine beast conducted at the tower festival. Raises potency of storms. Divine beasts are messengers of the heavens, and their rage mirrors the tumult of the skies, of which storms are the pinnacle.” (Enraged Divine Beast talisman)

The lion dancers, or “sculpted keepers,” are those amongst the divine beast warriors (themselves the chosen amongst the tower’s horned warriors) who truly excelled at divine invocation, and were “granted the honor of the lion dance” (Divine Beast Warrior Armor). In the boss cutscene, the Hornsent Grandam calls upon the divine beast to possess the bodies of the sculpted keepers, and rise again to defend the tower… so the lion dance, performed by warriors skilled in divine invocation, is essentially a ritual for invoking the presence of the divine beast within the dancers in order to commune with the heavens.

The sculpted keepers, having invoked the rage of the divine beast, are able to channel the forces of the stormy skies — lightning, wind, and frost. The force of the storm is represented in the music by quick runs in the high woodwinds and strings that come and go like gusts of wind. The music almost never lets up or loses momentum; it goes at a powerful, furious pace until the end, embodying the divine beast’s fury.

But the Divine Beast that we fight has an extra layer of emotion that goes beyond divine ritual:

“When the Impaler's army assailed the tower, the ritual of the lion dance was turned toward martial ends—its divinity, its fury, its light-footed beauty.” (Remembrance of the Dancing Lion)

What was once a beautiful ritual dance conducted at the tower festival was forced to become a weapon of war in order to fight against their people’s annihilation at the hands of Messmer’s crusade. And even this was not enough…

The Dancing Lion that we fight was slain, lying in a pool of dried blood, when it is miraculously awoken again with a fervent prayer. This is the last lion dance that may ever take place, giving us a mere glimpse of this ruined city’s long-vanished splendor.

Listening to the soundtrack, there is not only pride in the music, but also an urgent, visceral, warlike rage, a multitude of voices joining in a desperate fight for their civilization’s very survival.

[wrathofresistantx]

Timeline of the Emsdetten School Shooting

9:20am – 18-year-old Bastian Bosse leaves his car in the “immediate vicinity” of the Geschwister Scholl-Schule (GSS). Before driving to the school, he posted a zip file of his manifesto to the WeKillEmAll forums, as well as wrote in his diary: "That's it!".

He enters the school grounds and begins firing indiscriminately at oncoming students and teachers.

A teacher is wounded in the face by a smoke bomb thrown at her

Three students are injured by gunfire

A 55-year-old caretaker is shot in the stomach with a sawed-off Burgo .22 bolt action rifle

Bastian encounters his younger brother during the shooting. His brother asks him “What are you doing” to which Bastian moves on into the school.

After entering the school through the main entrance, Bastian shot a group of students, injuring one by gunfire. He also injures two 10 and 12-year-old students on the first floor of the building.

9:30am – Police are first notified of the shooting via an emergency call and immediately make their way to the school.

Teachers and staff had already started evacuating students from the building, with over a dozen students, both from the GSS and neighbouring school calling the police to report the incident.

9:34am – Police first arrive to the school and find the injured caretaker at the main entrance. They then move towards Bastian, who has moved onto the second floor of the building. As Bastian had set off numerous smoke bombs during the shooting, entry into the school is difficult.

Bastian then retreats into a classroom where he sets off a molotov cocktail, before shooting himself in the head with a sawed-off Ardesa percussion rifle.

9:58am – The first special operations command force arrive at the school, with them immediately attempting to enter the school

10:36am – The special command force manages to enter the second floor of the building that was heavily obscured by smoke. They find Bastian’s body, alongside the aforementioned percussion and bolt action rifles, an Ardesa caplock pistol and numerous self-made pipe bombs. Other explosive devices were also found around Bastian’s body.

Emergency services wait for a bomb defusal unit to arrive before approaching further as it was initially unclear if Bastian had shot himself or had been killed by detonating one of the bombs that was attached to his body due to the extensive damage to his face from the gunshot.

10:43am – Police find further explosive devices within the school, all of which were self-made pipe bombs. The neighbouring school is then searched as a result.

5:00pm – A bomb defusal unit arrived at the school, where they search Bastian’s car, as well as four residential buildings and the classroom which Bastian was found. Bastian’s body is then removed from the building by the defusal unit.

A later search of Bastian’s house and garage found further evidence of Bastian making and creating bombs to use in the shooting.

In total, 37 people were injured during the shooting, with Bastian being the only fatality:

6 were injured by gunfire

1 teacher was injured by a smoke grenade

16 police officers suffered smoke inhalation

14 suffered from shock

An unknown amount of people were treated at the scene by an emergency tent set up by the fire department. 62 people were also noted as being cared for as a part of police care procedures, including Bastian's family.

[sirenjose]

Hunter Norton Backstory Trailer Analysis

As a rule, the sons of miners follow the occupation of their fathers. Once Norton’s father died, and his mother also likely dead by then too, he had no other choice but to become a miner if he wanted to survive. Especially with how poor they likely were, Norton’s father (and mother) likely left almost nothing for their son, forcing him to work hard to support himself from a young age.

Based on Norton’s comment about living like a “rat” for 20 years, as he is 28 in the present, Norton’s father potentially died when he was 8 (his mother potentially died before then), leaving him an orphan.

A Mine Regulation Act in 1872 prevented children under the age of 12 from working underground. Until then, he would likely have been kept to surface work, such as:

Sorting and transporting materials

Loading and unloading transports

Assisting with general maintenance and cleaning

Delivering messages

Etc…

An Educational Act in 1870, which applied to England and Wales, made schooling compulsory for boys between the ages of 5 and 10, while an Act in 1872 applying to Scotland made school compulsory for kids between 5 and 13.

Once he reached the age of 12, the Regulation Act in 1872 would continued to limit his work hours, which prevented boys between 12 and 16 from working more than 54 hours in 1 week or 10 hours in 1 day. It also required them to have 8 to 12 hour breaks between “periods of employment” (defined as starting when they leave the surface and ending when they return to the surface).

Once he was old enough, regular miners were expected to work at least 12 hour shifts (though this varied from mine to mine) on weekdays. And we know from Norton’s deduction 2 that he worked longer than any of his coworkers, while his 3rd letter states, as a habit, he enters the mines at least 30 minutes before the others.

Conditions in the mine were hot, musty, and cramped (as mine owners didn’t want to spend extra to make them bigger), increasing the chance of accidents. We can actually see just how narrow the tunnels usually were in the trailer.

Miners also worked in complete darkness except for lighting they had to buy themselves. In fact, they had to buy much of their own equipment.

Unfortunately, wages for miners were incredibly low back then. Miners were paid by the quality of what they produced rather than by the hour, giving owners plenty of ways to reduce how they could pay their miner (including by lying about the quality or rigging the scales).

The average wage of coal miners in the 1880s was somewhere between 3s (s = shillings) and 5s per day, with around 4s being closer to the normal, and 5 only if you were lucky. 4 shillings was about $1.20. Generally though wages varied greatly in different districts. After spending on equipment, food, and rent, they could be left with maybe no more than 1s.

Going back to the trailer, it says “Blasting Agent – Mercury (II) Fulminate”. This is an explosive compound made from mercury, nitric acid, and ethanol. It was commonly used as a primary explosive in percussion caps and detonators during the 19th century. When struck or subjected to a shock, it would rapidly decompose and produce a violent explosion. Its role was to initiate the ignition or detonation of the main explosive charge, such as dynamite.

This is the stuff that we see him pouring into the dynamite.

Continuing, we see Norton smiling at a coin, but then his wrist is crushed by the other miners, who steal it from him, taunting him to try to take it back.

Norton actually smiling at the coin helps show Norton’s desire to get out of poverty, an idea he emphasizes later when he describes poverty as a “curse”.

But as we see in the Famitsu Article, people didn’t understand why he tried so hard. It “intimidated” them. Then in Norton’s 2nd letter as well as in this trailer, we see that he was ridiculed by his coworkers. They didn’t think it was possible for him to achieve such a goal. This is reflected with how essentially, at that time “Englishmen recognized if he is in a certain social grade, he is likely to remain there. He’ll never reach a higher class, and didn’t rebel”. Each class “cheerfully” accepted “the lot which providence has assigned” to them.

Norton was different though. He says in the trailer “I once thought the same” after it talks about sons of miners became miners themselves.

He may have initially accepted the same thing everyone else did, but things likely changed over time, the longer he was forced to live this sort of life.

There’s also a good chance part of his change was from working with people like Benny. He learns from them to improve himself (and hopefully improve his chance at earning more), but he also sees how these old miners are, which emphasizes in his brain he doesn’t want to end up like them. He doesn’t want to end up in hospice or stuck in poverty his whole life like they did, just waiting for the day they die.

Norton worked hard, harder and longer than everyone else, in the hopes eventually this would be enough to improve his life, to make it even slightly close to what most would consider a comfortable life, even if it meant only the basics. But it wasn’t enough. The mine owners were greedy. The other miners were all in it only for themselves. His wages were miniscule, and his daily and weekly expenses pretty great. Especially with how back in that time period, mine owners had ways where they attempted to keep their employees indebted to them, to force them to keep working for them, as well as improve their own personal profits as much as possible.

Norton was surrounded by these sorts of people forced to live in such a cruel environment, watching the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. This is reflected in his 2nd letter where he says “This is simply unfair. The poor find it difficult to lead a comfortable life, while all the rich need to do is wave their banknotes around”. He describes all the pain he’s gone through just at the chance to “climb up” out of poverty before describing “how much effort I put into this” as “ridiculous”.

His hard work is exemplified by his 3rd deduction, which describes how he’s done so well his employers always attempt (but fail) to keep him for longer. He works to learn, to improve his skills, and better himself at the chance at earning more and thus potentially work his way out of poverty faster.

We can also see it during the trailer, with him surrounded by all these books and other things.

This quality of his, where he likes to teach himself, to learn, and to improve himself has been implied at other points by Netease, such as by several of his skins or even from part of other collabs, like B.Duck, which described Norton as “full of curiosity” and “likes learning”. It also described him with a “desire to act at MAX” or “highest level of execution”. This means he’s the type of person to put all his effort into whatever he does.

It just wasn’t enough.

We even see the sort of suffering this life has forced him to endure, as in the trailer it shows him coughing due to the damage his lungs have suffered due to his life as a miner.

Hard work wasn’t enough. This is why he eventually turned to the list of 13 mines he learned from Benny, seeking to instead attempt to escape poverty by finding gold.

As explained by @metalIurgy and @Deskdeas, each of the names on this list are European mines or people.

(Also, there seems to be 15 names total on the list, rather than 13)

Von Donnersmarck: House of Donnersmarck, prominent aristocratic family that originated in the region of Silesia. Owned mines.

Georg Wilhelm: Russian military officer and engineer who specialized in mining

Prince Konstantin: prince of Russia, killed in a mining shaft

Ștefan Procopiu: physicist who researched electricity and magnetism

Friedrich Alfred Krupp: German industrialist, developed Krupp steel manufacturer and arms manufacturing company

Saarbergwerke: mining company that operated in the Saarland region of Germany

Romeria: religious pilgrimage (Spain or spanish speaking countries?)

Petro-pavlivska (''Петро-павлівська''): black coal mine located in the Eastern part of Ukraine

Nova Baňa: silver and gold mining site in central Slovakia.

Swansea Copper: Welsh copper mines

Eramet: French multinational mining and metallurgical company

Ivan Polzunov: Russian engineer known for his contributions to steam engine technology

Wowdcole: ?

(Sorry, I can't read the 15th name crossed out in the top left corner of the list)

We know from Norton’s 5th deduction that he tried and failed to find anything at any of the other 12 mines, leaving him with only Golden Cave left.

Back to the trailer, we see him with a map.

The left side looks like it should be a map of Lakeside and the surrounding area, with Golden Cave being the X at the base of the mountains. Count Barriere is the owner of this land, and also the owner of Golden Cave. The right side should be the representation of a map of the mine itself.

Considering how earlier Norton’s coworkers stole Norton’s coin, it’s possible they essentially tried to do the same thing here. Saw him looking at the map, then took it for themselves. Like how Norton’s 8th deduction includes “you need more helpers”, they may have forced him to take them along, and why they explore it on their own without Norton. Especially with the looks on their faces in that scene not showing they had any good intentions.

(A lot of what I’ll say next is said very well by @Yaboku_samaa)

Norton seems to have set all this up in advance, before they came through the mine.

Next we see Norton’s inner conflict. A conflict between morals and vengeance represented by survivor Norton vs Hunter Norton. His Hunter side manages to win out by telling Norton that this is what they deserve, it’s revenge for all the pain and ridicule he’s been put through, all in silence, all without fighting back. He’s forced to keep a façade. To keep his true feelings hidden if he doesn’t want a penalty or reduction in wages. He’s tired of having to live such a hard life of constant suffering and humiliation and hopelessness, and thus why he had hit his limit and the side represented by his Hunter version won out.

(I’m not going to push the idea too much, but it’s possible Norton may have bipolar disorder. That or DID, especially with how he literally talks to himself in his 2nd letter. Especially as both can form in children or young adults who experience long-term physical or emotional distress or abuse. Causes can include childhood trauma (like neglect, abuse, trauma, losing someone like a parent), stressful life events, genetics, etc…)

This decision is shown during the trailer when Norton says “There are ways to make a change”.

Norton’s 2nd letter does an accurate job of summarizing everything:

“Over the last 20 years, I lived like a rat in the gutter. I spent days under the ground in the dark just so I could earn a minimal living. Scars from the blasts crawled all over my face like maggots. The constant scorn and ridicule... I endured it every time just so I'd get a chance to climb up the ladder. It's ridiculous how much effort I put into this—anyway, I've finally managed to crawl out from the rat hole. I no longer have to pick and pull on the disgusting ash. Those who did nothing but laugh at me deserve to stay underground and be stepped on like maggots forever.”

And the trailer visually showing Norton’s inner conflict matches up very well with how quite clearly Norton in his 2nd letter is arguing with himself. The side represented by Hunter Norton is likely the version talking right now, trying to convince him (the side represented by Survivor Norton) to kill the female, “think about how arrogant she is” and all the money he’d get. The fact he is trying to convince himself shows that Norton doesn’t want to do it, and how he isn’t willing to do anything for money. His hatred for his coworkers for their treatment of him for so long was enough for the side represented by Hunter Norton to convince him to trigger the explosion on them, but that motivation doesn’t exist here. Right now, his less moral side is trying to motivative him with money and thinking about others as “arrogant” and essentially mean, as well as the doubt that she could do something to him.

But that may not be enough to convince him next time to actually do it if he’s given a chance. At Golden Cave, that was his last chance to try to find gold. He’d gone through 12 other mines (and 20 years of pain on top of that) with nothing to show for it. Norton may be very stubborn and determined, but even he was growing so very desperate, which is shown well by Norton’s 5th deduction as well as by the trailer itself. So it makes sense that Norton was mentally not in the right place and vulnerable to the sort of temptation we see him going through in the trailer.

Norton is alone. No family. No money. Suffering from lung problems. Has never been shown kindness and forced to grow up in a very cruel environment. The only thing keeping him moving forward and losing all hope is by focusing on his goal of getting out of poverty and achieving some form of a comfortable life with at least the basic necessities. This is shown very well by Norton’s 4th birthday emote “Savings”, where Norton takes out a single gold coin and thinks about simple worn clothes and a loaf of bread, while the description reads “Endure it, Norton. You’re almost there”.

For years he attempted to push on, but little by little, his coworkers, his employers, his environment, it all chipped away at him until he felt he had no other choice. I believe the trailer does a good job of emphasizing how his main motivation wasn’t greed but desperation, hopelessness, and the pain he was subjected to by his coworkers and everyone. It’s life or death, and this mine is his last chance, and his deep misery that pushes him over the edge, so it’s no wonder he doesn’t care about anyone anymore. He’s always been alone, always had to be the one to look out for himself. No one else could be trusted. They would only take advantage of him or even potentially steal what little he had. Yet even still he hesitated to pull the trigger, which I think says a lot about Norton.

Despite the decision being made, he doesn’t run after he sets off the explosion. He accepts what happens. There’s no way he didn’t know what was going to happen, not with how long he’s worked as a miner, and how much he’s learned in his own time. It could be the side represented by his survivor version sees the scar as punishment for his deeds. It could be he knew if he wanted to get his revenge he had to deal with the potential scars.

But he was here not just for revenge, but for the chance at finding gold. Hunter Norton’s character backstory says the accident brought Norton “Golden Luck” or “a gold rush of fortune”, so it sounds like he did find something.

We do know he at least found the meteorite, which is what he made his magnet from, so this could be what is referred to in Hunter Norton’s backstory.

Along with the above, we could connect whatever his “golden luck” was with Memory’s comment during Time of Reunion, where she says “they seemed to be looking for something other than ore”.

This is repeated during AoM with a newspaper clipping about rumors being false of precious metal ore in the mine.

Considering Golden Cave’s rumor is “despite not a single piece of gold was ever found, Count Barriere still got what he wanted with this land”, these statements should be talking about the same thing.

It’s possible Barriere was after the meteorite, especially as the only things we know that came out of that mine after it collapsed were Norton and the chunks of the meteorite he carried.

There are potential parallels from Lily’s essence, which connects to Golden Cave, and her essence story says “The mine is filled with special phosphorescent ores, which brought wealth to their ancestors but also cursed them with phosphorescent illness”. Considering in the famitsu article it says the magnet aka the meteorite may have been affecting his brain, it’s possible the “phosphorescent ores” is meant to parallel the meteorite.

If that is what Barriere is after, maybe there’s a chance he reached out to Norton afterwards, and he could’ve been the one to offer Norton all that money in exchange for killing some female. Especially when we know Count Barriere has a lot of money based on Lily’s backstory, as he even offered her enough to survive for 2 years and even more via making her the owner of the IOU likely belonging to Orpheus for him buying Oletus Manor.

Anyways, we also know from Norton’s 3rd letter that he “dug his way out through a mountain creek a few dozen meters away from the mine” with only “minor burns”. We also know from the Famitsu Article that people didn’t talk to him, they said a bare minimum then kept a “wide berth”, and considering the very visible scar on his face, it is possible this was the reason they avoided him (they were frightened of him. Like we see at the end of the trailer, it is possible people saw him as a “monster”, especially back then when these sorts of things weren’t treated or seen as kindly as today).

[jadedloverart]

The night is chilly, but the fire is warm. It's warm, and it stands alone, a single flickering pinprick of light, burning like a lonely star against the endless expanse of grassy plains.

With a somber sort of peacefulness, Kara traces the airborne embers as they spiral towards the heavens, winking out of sight like fading dreams, and all the while, she counts the slow muted thuds as they gently percuss the air.

Most nights she finds herself aimlessly watching the stars, listening to the workings of her own heart as she once did in the vast reaches of space. This time, however, her eyes remain fixed on the distant constellation of Orion for fear that if her gaze were to drop, she might find Lena staring back at her.

Even now, Kara feels the weight of that stare- almost fears it. Yet avoidance has ever been a futility that ends in the inevitable, simple act of eyes jumping from one point to another- from the sky to Lena's eyes, soft and alight with flame.

And she's so beautiful Kara can't breathe.

It has become almost second nature for Kara to force air into her lungs; to center her attention on the scents that accompany each breath in an attempt to clear her head.

This lungful brings the sweetness of grass, the moisture of the earth, and…

Lena turns her head, the black silk of her hair spilling over one shoulder as though from a broken bottle of night, and it looks like the softest thing Kara has ever wanted to touch.

The dancing light sends deep shadows to waver and jump along the column of Lena's throat, and transfixed, Kara watches the play of it as the dull ache within her chest sharpens with every passing second. It's a familiar pain by now, and indeed it's become a nearly pleasant sensation, yet it remains no less unbearable; no less irresistible.

When Kara finds the precious flutter of Lena's pulse, she is sure that something within her breaks over every beat. Her resolve, maybe, or some tedious standard of self-control that once promised her protection. Now amid the rubble of it, she feels only a brazen vulnerability.

And then, Lena looks at her again, the green of her eyes clear and warm. Lena looks at her, and this time, Kara holds her gaze. She understands in a manner akin to a subconscious acknowledgement, or rather, a recognition of something familiar- some ancient truth that she could trace to the marrow of her bones.

Lightning has only ever struck Kara twice, and both times it infused her with a vibrating, chaotic sort of energy, reminiscent of the sun yet different- as though every atom in her body was attempting to shake apart with the overload of it. She feels it again, now, as the world suddenly presents itself to her with perfect clarity. The shock of it could make her cry; the rightness of it nearly does.

Mouth opening and closing, Kara tries to speak, her voice stubbornly refusing to come out, and in an act of resignation, she rises, feeling almost as though she is moving through a dream. The grass folds mutely beneath her feet as she circles the fire with quiet, careful steps, listening with curious wonder as Lena's heartbeat quickens.

There is a softness to Lena's expression that rarely shows itself to the world, and in that softness, Kara knows her soul could easily drown without leaving a single trace behind.

And suddenly, jarringly, Kara finds herself standing before Lena.

Some undeniable instinct spurs her to sink to her knees, and distantly, she registers the falter of Lena's breath and the startled look of awe upon her face. For a moment, Kara wonders if Lena knows.

But then, how could she not?

As if in response to Kara's silent query, Lena tilts her head slightly, that same awed look in her eye, even as an odd smile twists the corner of her mouth. That little quirk draws Kara's gaze like a fly to honey, and she aches to trace the curve of Lena's lip, her fingers lifting slowly from the safety of her side.

Without another thought, Kara is brushing the hair back from Lena's face, the tips of her fingers lingering in the warmth that radiates from the smooth skin of Lena's cheek. She savors it- feels it like it's the sun, though the sensation borders one hotter than any fire she has ever had to walk through.

The air begins to thrum in a series of rapid little waves only Kara can ride, and the tremor of it settles easily within her chest, overriding every rhythm of her flesh. The dark centers of Lena's eyes have grown like the expansion of a black hole, drawing every helpless thing in with gravitational force, and into that beckoning, Kara feels as though she could fall forever and still name it flight.

She doesn't realize how close she is until Lena tilts her face up ever so slightly, eyes bright with a longing so intense any flimsy pretenses Kara has ever held before her fall away like old cobwebs.

A beat passes, muted and thundering, and as it lulls, Kara moves as if through honey. Some vague, unimportant strain of caution whispers that there is no going back after this, and in the face of it, she takes hold of a boldness within herself whose voice she has called upon thousands of times, yet has always feared. With that boldness clutched firmly to her, Kara forges ahead, her hand moving to cradle Lena's cheek.

And then she kisses her, and the world fades to nothing around them, twisting reality and dream together. She knows without a doubt that any man made of softer stuff would break against the wildness that rises within her heart, and there, beneath Earth's distant stars, Kara begins to understand the final lesson of courage.

[sentientgolfball]

Confidence

18+ MDNI

Part two

Pairing: Rulti

Tags: masturbation, mentions of knots, oral, little bit of mean Rain if you squint

Word count: 2,666

Summary: Rain seems more confident this tour cycle and Swiss is eating it up, based off of this pic

Swiss had been staring up at the ceiling unmoving from his spot on his bed ever since he got back to the hotel. He was still in his uniform and show makeup. His mind was moving too fast with too many thoughts about the night, though it wasn’t about the performance. Everything went off without a hitch. It wasn’t show stopping but it wasn’t a complete disaster either, just a normal night. But one single thing had completely taken over Swiss’ mind all through the encore, the ride to the hotel, and now here in his room. Rain. The little water ghoul had practically ignored him all night except for one interaction that had his mind reeling. Rain had slowly made his way over to his stage while Swiss was distracted with his singing. He had only noticed him when the break in his part hit. He flashed a fanged smile at Rain excited to finally be getting attention from him. Rain showed no signs of interest but the helmet made it almost impossible to read any hints of emotion. All Rain did was simply turn towards the crowd to play his part of the song. Swiss could’ve handled that. He could’ve handled the water ghoul staring at him for a minute before ignoring him again. No, what set him off for the rest of the night was what Rain did after he was done playing his part. Without even looking back at the multi ghoul he reached out to where his percussive shaker was held on the mic stand and grabbed it before stroking it. Right before he walked off to his next cue he looked back at Swiss, the glare of the lights hitting him just right allowing him to see his eyes past the lenses of the helmet. Rain’s gaze was piercing, wild and it made his stomach flip.

Swiss was distracted the rest of the show watching Rain move around the stage. Watching Rain interact with Dew and Phantom. Watching Rain ignore him. When he wasn’t immediately doing something his mind would drift to what was inevitably coming after the show. He knew exactly how it would go down when Rain wanted something. They’d all take their final bows and head to their dressing rooms to get changed and cleaned before heading back to the hotel. Swiss would pretend to not be affected by the water ghoul’s actions on stage. Rain would come up silently behind him, running a clawed fingertip down his back before walking off to his dressing room. He wouldn’t look back, he never did; he knew Swiss would follow eagerly like a puppy.

Only, that’s not what happened this time. He managed to make it through the rest of the show and practically sprinted off stage after bows. Rain had been the most confident Swiss had ever seen with this tour cycle and he was dying to see if it bled into bed. He stood there fiddling with his instruments waiting for Rain to pass him, and he did. He had completely ignored Swiss. No touch, not even a passing glance. He immediately felt a stab of disappointment but also a twitch in his cock. He was enjoying the idea of Rain making him beg for it once they were back at the hotel. He wanted nothing more than to be on his knees before the water ghoul begging for him to fuck him, begging for him to touch him, begging for permission to touch himself. He wanted to see Rain look down at him with boredom while he had to force himself to keep it together.

When the group had finally gotten back to the hotel Swiss made a b-line for Rain following him closely all the way to his room. He hadn’t turned once to look at him as they walked in silence. Rain opened his door and slipped inside slamming it closed behind him. Swiss had to place his hands on the doorframe to stop himself from being hit with it. He stood there eyes wide and mouth slightly open in shock at the denial from Rain. He immediately started to overthink. Had he done something to piss Rain off? Was he reading too much into his stage behavior? He walked to his room just a little ways down the hall in a daze, the tightness in his pants only growing from Rain’s coldness. And that’s how he got to his current state of half laying on the bed staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t stop replaying the interaction, or lack thereof, over and over again, but slowly it turned into fantasies of what could’ve been. He closed his eyes and breathed out deeply as images of Rain’s slender fingers wrapping around his cock filled his mind. He slowly trailed his clawed hands over his thighs and made quick work of his zipper. He took out his half hard dick and started to stroke from root to tip with just the ends of his claws. He lazily wrapped his fist around the head feeling himself chub up as he passed his thumb over the slit where precum was already starting to gather.

All he could think about was Rain as he squeezed and stroked himself at a slow pace. He repeated the motion over and over until he started to feel his knot swell at the base. He started to move his hand faster over his cock as he reached down to squeeze the bump forming, pre leaking down covering both hands. His eyes fluttered closed and his breathing became shallow when he put pressure on the rapidly growing knot. It didn’t take long for him to start thrusting up into his fist, images of Rain’s beautiful hands and mouth on his cock pushing him closer to the edge flooded his mind. He did his best to stifle his moans through it all, but with one final squeeze on his knot he couldn’t help but call out Rain’s name as he came onto himself.

He laid there for a few minutes letting his mind come down from the high. Eventually, he sighed and stood up making his way to the bathroom. He was still half hard as he took the rest of his clothes off and tried to figure out how to get the shower to work. Once he got the warm water flowing he turned to wipe the makeup off his face as the tub filled. He thought maybe a nice long soak would help him relax. The tub was a decent size, big enough to allow him to go completely under if he wanted to. He got into the bath and submerged himself up to his chin. He put his head back on the edge of the tub and sighed “What have you done to me, waterboy?” He says to himself as images of Rain still flash through his mind. He was still so desperate for the feeling of him around his cock, he didn’t care if it was his fingers, mouth, or ass, he just needed it. Needed him. He bit his lip as he started to feel himself grow hard again.

That was until he heard a knock at his door. He sat up too quickly causing water to spill out onto the floor. His stomach dropped. Was he too loud? He panicked slightly. The last time they got a complaint from a hotel the ghouls had to be lectured in Sister Imperators office for 3 hours about respecting quiet hours and the other guests when staying at hotels, though in Swiss’ defense he wasn’t the one screaming that time.

He only started to move when he heard a second, louder knock on the door. He jumped out of the tub and quickly put on a robe doing his best to hide his half hard on. He answered the door with an apology on his tongue, but it quickly died when he saw who it was. There stood Rain with an indifferent look on his face.

“Can I come in or are you busy?” He asked, eyeing Swiss up and down. He couldn’t form any words, his mind blanking at the reality. All he did was open the door wide enough for Rain to walk in and nod his head as he walked in. He stared at the water ghoul as he moved around the room, surveying it as a way to avoid looking at Swiss. He was in his pajamas, a royal purple silk crop top and matching shorts. Swiss couldn’t help but stare at the sleek muscles and the gills on his abdomen.

“Are you paying attention?” Rain asked with a bit of sharpness in his voice, now finally making eye contact with the multi ghoul. Swiss’ eye snapped up to gaze at Rain. He must’ve missed something he said, lost in his own perverted little world. When he just stared at Rain his mouth slightly agape he sighed and repeated his earlier question

“I asked if now was a bad time to talk?”

He swallowed forcing disinterest into his voice “Nope I was just takin a bath. Relaxing after the show, scrubbing the makeup off and all that.” Even he could hear how his voice went higher than normal

“Mhm so is that why I heard you call my name earlier.” He still stared at him with a sharp gaze

Swiss froze in place. Oh. So the confidence is bleeding over. He thought as he cock started to become uncomfortably hard. A moment passed in silence before Swiss looked at Rain with his best soft eyes.

“What else was I supposed to do Rainy? You left me hanging all night.” The water ghoul didn’t say anything as he started to walk over to Swiss slowly. He leaned up and whispered in his ear “I wanted to see how long you could last before you cracked.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice. Swiss felt his face flush at the closeness of the water ghoul.

Rain licked the shell of his ear “You made it longer than I thought. I think you deserve a reward” he pulled back from him “how about we finish that bath?” He asked with a smile starting to pull at the sides of mouth. Swiss nodded eagerly and followed Rain into the bathroom. At this point the water had cooled, but all Swiss had to do was snap his fingers and the water was back to perfect temperature. Perks of being tied to multiple elements.

Rain made quick work of taking his pajamas off before turning and unwrapping the rob from Swiss. He stared down at his cock and bit his lip smiling. It was sticking straight out, painfully hard. The tip was a shade of purple with pre leaking out. The sight went straight to Rain’s dick. He reached down and gave him a few lazy strokes “All this for me? All because of a little performance?” He teased. All Swiss could do was moan quietly in response. Rain could already feel his own slick starting to fall down his cock, but that’s how water ghouls were, wet from start to finish.

“Get in.” He motioned with his head to the tub and Swiss quickly obeyed. He was tired of waiting. He was desperate for anything Rain would give him. He settled himself with his back against the cool tile of the wall. He watched as Rain climbed in after him. He positioned himself so that they were facing each other. Once settled, Rain wasted no time. He quickly pressed his lips to Swiss’ neck earning a whine from the ghoul. He softly bit into the flesh before licking and sucking at the spot as Swiss squirmed under the sensation. He feverishly trailed his mouth up his neck and along his jawline before pressing harshly onto his lips. He quickly slipped his tongue into his mouth, swirling his own over Swiss’ before pulling back just enough to be able to bite down on his bottom lip. Swiss moaned at the feeling and desperately thrusted his hips upward searching for any type of stimulation.

Rain leaned back at this causing Swiss to whine in disappointment. He laughs just a little “I suppose I made you wait long enough, love.” Usually Rain would make this go on for hours, slowly giving his partner what they wanted before pulling back entirely. He loved to watch them squirm, watching them desperately try to get something out of him. But tonight, he had made Swiss wait without the slightest touch and it was driving him mad. He would never admit it, but he was just as desperate, if not more, as the multi ghoul.

He leaned back in and started to trail his tongue down Swiss’ chest, stopping only to tease one of his nipples between his lips before continuing down. He gave Swiss one final look before dipping his head below the water where his gills flared to life. He slowly wrapped his puffy lips around the head of his cock and swirling his tongue around the tip, making sure to press on the slit. Swiss threw his head back against the tile with a moan as his hands found a spot in Rain’s wet hair.

The water ghoul then started to move down his length inch by agonizing inch, pressing his tongue on the bottom of his shaft as he went. He had just about all of him in his mouth before he quickly pulled off. He didn’t return to the task at hand until he felt Swiss reach down to force his jaw open like a dog bringing him back down onto his dick with desperate force. Rain allowed himself to be pushed all the way to the base, gagging slightly when he hit the back of his throat. Swiss had to force himself to not thrust into his mouth at the feeling of the muscles contracting around him. He watched as the inky black hair floating in the water started to bob. The hand on Rain’s head tightened at the motion, while the other moved the hair out of the way so that Swiss could watch him under the water.

At the feeling of Swiss’ grip in his hair Rain couldn’t help but moan around his cock eliciting a thrust from him. This caused Rain to gag again. He then slowly started to pull off, only stopping at the head to lick at Swiss’ precum before going back down carefully dragging the tips of his fangs down his length. Swiss couldn’t help it anymore. He started to erratically thrust into Rain’s throat, moaning each time he felt the muscles close around him. His vision started to go hazy when he felt the water ghoul slide his tongue around his knot. It all quickly became too much for Swiss as felt himself release into the back of Rain’s throat as he dragged himself all the way down to the base wrapping his lips around his knot.

He didn’t pull himself out of the water until he felt Swiss’ cock stop twitching from his orgasm. He slowly dragged his lips and tongue all the way off before kissing his head. When he resurfaced Swiss was looking at him with a glassy gaze.

“I cannot believe I never thought of that before.” Swiss said after taking a few short breaths. He motioned to Rain’s gills. This made the water ghoul chuckle. He leaned in and gave him a soft kiss.

“It’s a good thing one of us knows what we’re doing.” He leaned back and curled up onto his chest. The idea excited Swiss. He couldn’t wait to explore all the possibilities that came with having a partner who didn’t need to breathe regularly.

After soaking for a bit Swiss started to grin and trail his claws down Rain’s abdomen to his hips. Rain turned to stare in warning at him but the flick of his tail betrayed his interest.

“My turn waterlily.”

[backtoherloneheart]

Gerrit Q&A on Instagram from today (13.11.24), English questions:

Current favorite lipstick color? Dark purple.

If you had the chance to play in any band for one show who would you choose? I'm quite happy and content with the band I'm in.

Any new album from 2024 you like and would recommend? Really, really love the new album "Life In The Wires" by Frost* (music for (keyboard) nerds). Absolute masterpiece, as expected! Lotta notes, too.

Hi! Is it possible to get some Lotl piano notes? Not in the foreseeable future. It's a rights management thing, I believe. Use your ear and venture into the trial and error game. It's a good ear training!

Any new piercings or tattoos planned? Still wanting to finish my left arm. But either there's shows coming up (don't like going on tour with a new/healing tattoo), or I don't have the money to spare. A whole sleeve can be ridiculously expensive, albeit rightly so.

Do you prefer shooting music videos with a story and acting involved, or with just playing? Just playing. I'm a musician, not an actor. Video shoots with acting parts are highly uncomfortable for me, usually, because I have hardly any awareness about my movements and/or facial expressions. #körperklaus

How are you? Coping, I guess.

Hardest LOTL for You to Play? (Tempo/Too many instruments for You to play it live/something else?) La Bomba is virtually impossible to nail without any bum notes, and I rarely ever succeed. But luckily, that song is SO weird and tongue-in- cheek, that a couple of mistakes here and there are, I assume, pardonable.

What was the last live concert that you visited? CIGSAFTERSEX

What was the best part about touring in America?Too many things. The positive culture shock, our friends in julienkofficial and beastoblanco, our new, marvellous teammates brian_dickie and matthewxwindsor666, seeing hanszimmerlive... The whole package, really.

Comfort food? Pasta with pesto. Could (and most of the time do) eat it for days on end. Which is also quite cheap. It's called financial responsibility.

Which musical instrument do you hate the most Bag pipes. It sounds like it's apologising for the way it sounds.

Have you ever thought about releasing solo music? x Highly unlikely. I'm not much of a writer/composer. I've come to terms with the fact that I shine more at being a reproductive musician.

What's your all time favorite chord? How about time signature? ACAB! All Chords Are Beautiful

Do you miss Nora on stage? Less than I thought, tbh. In general, I'm quite happy to be able to focus more on keys and percussions on stage, thanks to having the ridiculously talented @the benjineer on guitar and additional keys now!

Favorite position I very much enjoy sleeping horizontally.

What advice would you give to someone starting to learn an instrument? Also fantastic picture! You won't make any progress if - the vibe with your teacher doesn't match. - you don't enjoy what you're playing/practising.- you feel forced to play/practise. Music is supposed to be fun, not a sport or an obligation.

Eat or sleep Yes please.

What was the last poetry book U read? I don't think I've ever read a poetry book in my life.

Do you have a favorite musical? If so what? I genuinely dislike musicals.

Where are you going? With my life? Absolutely no idea!

What's your fascination with unicorns? (Meant in a positive way of course) There is no real fascination, tbh. I'm just a big fan of bad taste. Years ago, I said "I like unicorns!" for shits and giggles, and the aforementioned bad taste. And all of a sudden people started giving me all sorts of unicorn related things. Be careful what you wish for, I guess...

Your favorite keyboard name? I don't know. Timothy sounds nice. Or Jeffrey.

What happened to NORA? She's safely stored away.

Pils or weissbier? Pils. Or Helles.

Will you share more videos of you playing the keyboard? Not on a regular basis. Simply because I couldn't be bothered to set up a camera, find the right angle and lighting, get it played right (big victim of red light syndrome here!), do the post-processing... It's just so tedious and I'm far too lazy for that. All past attempts to do something like this regularly have failed, so I just stopped trying.

A book you would recommend / are currently reading? Not a big fan of books/reading.

Evolution or religion? Evolution. Science ftw. Boo religion.

Hey! How are you doing with all the bag pipes on Lords of Fyre? :) There's bagpipes in Lords Of Fyre?

Pi or Klaas? @kahlschlag Just kidding. I love all of them for various reasons.

Is there a particular music note that you dislike or like above the others (to hear)? Interesting concept, but no.

If you could be an animal, which one would it be? And why? A house cat. No job, no rent. Just meow meow.

Photo of what you have in front of you [a black pic] Fear, mostly.

What do you like more - being on stage or at home? These are, in equal measure, my two favourite places to be. Everything else is highly optional.

Is your stage character the same as in real life? Wouldn't be much of a dedicated stage character if both were the same, right? All I can say is, what you see up there is 100% authentically me. I guess I'm just less flamboyant off stage (I like to be rather plain in day to day life), but I'm the same silly twat in both situations.

[dustedmagazine]

E — Living Waters (Silver Rocket)

E’s fifth full length packs a wallop, thanks to new drummer Ernie Kim, a Boston area veteran of bands including Tristan da Cunha. Not that the trio—the other two members are Thalia Zedek and Jason Sanford—has ever been especially quiet. Still no question that the intensity ratcheted up another notch this time in lurching, lumbering rhythms that shake the floors like a brontosaurus passing.  

It all starts in “(Fully) Remote” with its thrusting, heavy industrial cadence that comes down hard at the beginning of every four beat measure, swings back, then hammers home again. And while superlatively heavy, E’s music has a twitchy, paranoiac empty space embedded between assaults. Sanford mutters ominously about how “the information, it comes from inside,” while Zedek picks up the end of a verse in a feral, vibrating howl. A trebly violence of guitar skreetches over the monstrous beat, like napalm fire catching.

E has never had a full-time bass player. Typically Zedek plays a conventional guitar, while Sanford goes at his home-made instruments, some of which look like cubist reimaginings of a guitar, drawn in thick lines with air where the body usually goes. For this album, however, Zedek, too, experimented with her instrument, adjusting it so that it could produce both guitar and bass-like sounds. The low-end girds the band’s customary antic, always-in-motion onslaught, giving the sound more force and resonance. And yet, it’s the drums, always the drums, that shock and roil these songs, their stick-shattering thwacks turning uneasy fever dreams like “Names Upon a List” into firefights.

A couple of these tracks lean way into this assaultive aesthetic, stripping away the poetry and melodic color to reveal the animal beneath. “Deep Swerve” bounces wavering, dopplering sounds off the hardest beat you can imagine, and “Ash” reprises the woozy foundation, adding flares of guitars and voices to its giant footed procession.

But it’s the epic title track that puts the pieces together, its ritual beat, its slow-chiming guitars, its gut-wrenching vocals all conjoining in triumph. Zedek sings, primarily, holding the long notes over a tumult of percussion and guitar sound, as if withstanding, once again, all the difficulties of the last few years. It’s nine minutes plus of persistence and resilience, playing out in a way that will make the hairs on your wrists stand up. E is full of power, now more than ever.  

Jennifer Kelly

[bridget-the-wannabe-author]

Silk danced around her ankles like leaves swaying in the wind. Each step hit the floor with a clack of her heel and a click of her toes, her cloud white heels as the percussion against the symphony of silence singing her entrance. She was beautiful, like no other. Her eyes could pierce like arrows, yes, and they could be gentle and calm like a warm summer night. But today, her eyes held neither contempt nor compassion. Rather, in her gaze, I saw weariness. A weight on her shoulders, her mind, her heart. The beauty in my sight was not currently the leader I knew for her victories, nor the enchantress who captivated thousands with her siren's song. Nay, the lady before was a tired woman. A girl, forced by fate to live as her own, and one who chose to encumber herself in the misery of others so they would not fall. She had the strength to stand, but it would be cruel, in my mind, to not take the weight from her and allow her soul to rest a while. She smiled with a powerful weariness as I took her hand in mine and led her to a cushioned seat, resting her crowned head upon my lap. With her eyelids closed, her face lay free and relaxed, a slight sigh escaping her lips. Oh, how I would bear the weight of the world for her, if only her pride would allow me. I run my fingers through her long, delicate hair, always somewhat shocked not to find a halo hidden within. And neither did I find feathers like down fallen on the spaces she pranced, nor were my wounds healed by her touch, as much as my heart might have felt it was. Her chest rose and fell as air entered and left her lungs. That I was allowed to share the same air as her was a miracle to my mind, and everything that came in addition was simply impossible. And yet, her she was, resting with me. I could only hope to myself, and pray to no one in particular, that when she awoke, her notice would fail as I stole some weights from her back.

More divine than an angel and more beautiful than any god, my personal sun shone brighter than any flame as she slept upon my lap.

[sayahs-corner]

Rating: E

Lightning streaked across the smoke darkened sky just as the rain began to fall, turning the already churned earth to mud and sucking clay. The copper tang of blood mixed with the thick and noxious smell of burning flesh. Despite the rain, smoke trailed lazily into the air from the brush fires in the distance. Barrel deep roars, punctuated by the pained screams of dying men, pierced the air while the clash and clang of blade striking blade was a percussive background noise that rattled the bones. Steven Grant Rogers wiped the blood, sweat, and rain from his face with a grimace. He pushed himself stubbornly onto his knees, his ears still ringing from the blast that had sent him sailing through the sky only moments before. Body parts, wood shards, and clods of earth had speared through the air along with him. His stomach rolled at the sight and smell of death.

He blinked rapidly, the rain falling in torrents now, and allowed his gaze to roam across the battlefield.

They were losing.

His stomach rolled again, churning, his chest tight at the realization. There had been so much fighting, so much bloodshed and so very many lives lost. There had been sacrifices. There had been hope. Hope that what they were doing here meant something. Hope for better days for all of them. That they would see this through and come out on the other side. He had lost everything to this war. His friends, his family, his home. And it had all been for naught. Everywhere his gaze touched there were dead and dying men, his fellow soldiers and friends, choking out their last breaths beneath the indomitable strength of the invading enemy army.

A shuddering breath left him then, his ears still ringing from the blast, his body pummeled and sore, and his thoughts scattered. His left arm burned something fierce, so much so that he could feel the beat of his heart pulsing there. As he took stock of his own body, cataloging the aches and pains, he realized he was weaving where he knelt in the muck on the ground. Shock. Likely from blood loss, his healer’s mind provided for him needlessly.

He blinked slowly, watching the enemy forces descend upon them. They poured down the hill and into the valley below, reminding Steve of angry red ants scurrying out of a kicked over anthill. The King’s army had never faced an enemy so competent. They had weapons that no one had seen before. Projectiles that burst into flames that not even water could douse. Others caused shockwaves, sent men and beast and earth flying through the air, leaving a giant gaping maw in the earth. For all of their savagery, their primitive dress and disregard for human life, they far outclassed Norkyew’s renowned army.

The Vers.

Violent. Barbarians. Invaders. They were conquerors led by a bloodthirsty, soulless, warlord known as the Iron Warmonger. For the past two years the King’s army had been fighting off the inevitable. Everyone knew of their savagery, their merciless violence. They were renowned for their cruelty. Men, women, children. Entire villages laid to waste beneath the relentless press of the invading army. An army the likes of which they had never seen before.

They dressed in strange leathers, faces covered by masks or war paint, and rode on war horses without a saddle or reins. They sported weapons of all kinds, and relished in the judicious use of them. Women fought alongside the men, white teeth gleaming in paint blackened faces, no less savage than their male counterparts. The Vers fought with a wild and frenetic sort of ferocity. They brought with them the strength of their distant barbarous nation.

And still no one knew what had brought them to Norkyew’s shores. But arrived they had, just over two years ago, forcing the King to turn his eye away from the long running border skirmishes to the west and toward this new threat instead.

No one attacked Norkyew. It simply wasn’t done. They were one of the strongest nations, with a fierce army that rivaled all of their neighbors combined. For the Vers to come here, to journey across the sea, to challenge the Kingdom of Norkyew… it made little sense.

They had come pretty close today to a victory, Steve liked to think, when they had been able to catch one of those projectiles and sent it, and several others, back into the body of the Vers’ main frontal assault. It had been Steve’s idea to weave together a large net that would safely catch those projectiles. His idea to send them back to whence they came. Give those savage Ver a taste of their own medicine.

They had not been expecting it. And Steve had urged his fellow soldiers to press forward, to press their advantage. Vers fell at an alarming rate, stunned by their own battle weapons as the King’s army roared their triumph. For a brief, shining moment, Steve had the sweet taste of victory in his mouth.

It was soon wiped away only moments later as they were flanked on both sides by secondary forces. Backup had arrived just in time for the Vers.

And now?

He blinked again to clear his burning eyes. Clenched his teeth at the sound of the General’s horn sounding in the distance. Calling a retreat. Steve knew that many of them would not get the chance to fall back to safety. That he, like many of the others surrounding him right now, would get left behind. They were too far forward, too much in the thick of it, to turn back now.

For them, there would be no tomorrow.

A cold, humorless, laugh left him then.

“So be it.” his voice came out thick, scratchy. He shook the ringing from his ears, blinked back the burning of his eyes. He found his shield on the ground and looped his arm through the strap, tightening it to the point of pain. Pain helped him focus. Kept him moving.

Read the rest on AO3!

Claimed by the Warmonger - Chapter 1 - sayah1112 - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

[assanx]

@howlforahookup​ location: labyrinth - school lunchroom  notes: tuna (disastrous)

Asleep when everything had gone down, Assan woke up, sat up, and immediately hit his head on the lunchroom table that he’d appeared under. He rubbed at his forehead as he crawled out from under it before he stood, This is different. Assan thought as he looked around, rusted metal and peeling wallpaper. His stomach growled and he looked towards the dingy looking kitchen - there might have been something in there, twinkies lasted forever and this place looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades. Damian was there already, the lycan that was always trying to steal his food. Assan stomped his way towards him before he grabbed the other’s shoulder to give him a piece of his tuna mind when all of a sudden - something - with a lot of tentacles that looked vaguely human loomed over them. Out of pure shock, Assan gasped, “Tuna!” He yelled as he pushed Damian to the ground, immediately a force ripped its way from his throat and with percussive force the mindflayer exploded as guts, viscera, squid-like ink and alien blood splattered himself and Damian. Assan’s hands came over his mouth as his eyes went wide, that wasn’t supposed to happen when he said normal words. Now his throat hurt too and here he was without his cough syrup.

[2chaotic-2snazzy]

Season of the Spirit - a review

Season of the Spirit by Saras Girl

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Rating: Not Rated (but E)

Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE

Word count: 95,041

Summary: It starts with a swan. What happens after that is a bit of a mystery. 2018 advent story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite my best intentions, the Christmassy mood is getting to me, and my favorite way to indulge in the holiday spirit without obnoxious music is advent fanfiction. Season of the Spirit inaugurated my advent-fic reading season. Written by the iconic Drarry author Saras_girl, Season of the Spirit is lovely, lengthy, slice-of-life story that starts happy and ends happy. Best for Drarry fans that enjoy a slower pace and a unique twist on adult Harry and Draco’s career paths. 

The vibes of this fic are superb. Stellar. Immaculate. This is the perfect story to read while sitting under a pile of blankets and drinking hot cocoa, because it’s just so fantastically cozy. Holiday imagery and descriptions of tasty chocolates abound, and we get a light touch of sick-fic as well. 

“The crackleball is a thing of pure joy. Its lacy, sometime nutty chocolate shell always seems to be the perfect size for one massive bite and this perfection allows you to choose your own experience – to let it dissolve until the flavours and textures flood your mouth in a slow, rippling wave, or to bite down hard, forcing an explosion that dashes against your palate in a percussive shock that is almost too much, either option leaving behind a haze of satisfaction and an effervescent aftertaste that lasts for hours.”

Contributing to the cozy vibes are the copious descriptions of Harry interacting with his found family; Rose Weasley is my absolute favorite. However, as the story is set within the Diagon Alley shopkeeper community, Saras_girl creates a wonderfully unique cast of interesting, funny, and kind-hearted shopkeepers that act also as Harry’s family in addition to the Weasleys. The relationships between all characters (not just Harry and Draco) are rich and beautiful. 

Of course, it’s in no way surprising that Saras_girl wrote this beautiful story; they are a fantastically prolific and talented author. You may recognize them from popular Drarry fics like Turn, Salt on the Western Wind, and the Foundations!verse, all of which I also recommend reading. Delightfully, they’ve also written a sizeable collection of advent fics, many of which I’ve read and enjoyed immensely. I’m currently reading Helix, an advent fic set in 8th year. In summary: if you enjoy this fic, it’s just the tip of the Saras_girl iceberg. 

Happy reading!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

- Snazz

[humanperson105]

What is Thinking? Part 2.

Benjamin, Godard, and the Stimulation of Thought

Walter Benjamin saw modern art as existing between the two poles of contemplation and distraction (Zerstreuung in German roughly translates to entertainment or diversion in contemporary usage). Contemplation, in which the viewer is completely absorbed into a work, belongs to the traditional pre-modern role of art, which Benjamin contrasts with the modern mode of mass participation, in which mass entertainment is rather absorbed into its audience. Benjamin sees the prevalence of distraction, concomitant with the process of industrial proletarianization, as a historical development in the human apparatus of perception that Dadaism would singularly understand and make use of until the advent of film. “[T]he Dadaists turned the artwork into a missile. It jolted the viewer, taking on a tactile [taktisch] quality. It thereby fostered the demand for film, since the distracting element in film is also primarily tactile, being based on successive changes of scene and focus which have a percussive effect on the spectator.” (Walter Benjamin The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical reproduction) Just as the Dadaist's mockery of the bourgeois pretensions of the art world prevented their works from being objects of passive contemplation, the montage technique deployed in films “distracts” (Zerstreuung) its audience and produces what Benjamin calls the shock effect:

The image on the film screen changes, whereas the image on the canvas does not. The painting invites the viewer to contemplation; before it, he can give himself up to his train of associations. Before a film image, he cannot do so. No sooner has he seen it than it has already changed. It cannot be fixed on. The train of associations in the person contemplating it is immediately interrupted by new images. This constitutes the shock effect of film, which, like all shock effects, seeks to induce heightened attention. (Ibid.)

Benjamin sees the task of modern art as tied to this shock effect produced by distraction that prevents us from falling into immanent contemplation. The importance of this shock effect and its relation to the question of whether we are thinking and what motivates us to think that we discussed above with Deleuze is, for Fredric Jameson, of central importance in the works of Jean-Luc Godard:

How new forms of montage in film are to be related to a pedagogy that stimulates thinking and prods the spectator out of some merely immanent contemplation of visual images is not merely the classical problem of an Eisenstein or a Brecht but also the more immediate and contemporary space in which Godard's films desperately and far more problematically wrestle with that heritage; that Godard had "ideas" no less theoretical than Brecht or Eisenstein, ideas about consumer society and Maoist politics which it was the task of the film somehow to convey, seems undeniable [italics are mine]. (Jameson pg. 191 PCLLC)

For Jameson, Godard’s use of montage is a tool that forces the audience to think in the Deleuzian way we discussed above, but in this case, thought is made possible by the rejection of immediacy and immanence. Thought is not relegated to the sensible and is rather itself a negativity or ironic distance from the sensible. Godard (as well as Jameson), makes use of a Marxian dialectical method in which immediacy and the false immediacy of the sensible are always revealed to be a single moment of abstract indeterminacy in the broader realization of self-determination. Thought does not rest on any foundation or givenness and is a restless negativity at a transcendent distance from representations and passive subjective experience or perception. (Continued)

[drchristophedelongsblog]

Does your child's knee hurt?

There are 2 main principles to bear in mind in all cases of gonalgia in children involved in sport:

the lesion may be located in the hip and radiate only to the knee,

and as with all childhood ailments, benign pathologies should only be considered as a diagnosis of elimination,

after having ruled out all the severe pathologies that are unfortunately not related to sport.

In the context of sports traumatology, however, this chapter will deal only with those conditions most frequently encountered during sports activities, and which are probably linked to excessive microsollicitation of growth plate during ossification.

Osgood-Schlatter disease

This "disease" mainly affects children between the ages of 11 and 15.

Boys are most often affected, especially children who play sports on the side of their dominant lower limb.

The active child, and a fortiori the adolescent athlete, is therefore at greater risk of developing Osgood-Schlatter disease, given the likely micro-traumatic origin of this condition, through repeated traction on the ossifying anterior tibial tuberosity.

The diagnosis is made clinically, with radiographs being difficult to interpret due to the great variability of the images.

Treatment of Osgood-Schlatter disease is primarily functionalwith the child taking a rest from sport according to his or her level of pain.

In most cases, the pain will subside by the end of growth. In persistent, hyperalgesic cases, or in very athletic children, immobilization with a knee cast or orthosis, or surgery to remove bone fragments, may be necessary.

What are the symptoms?

Pain in the anteroinferior aspect of the knee

sudden contraction of the quadriceps tendon, appearing progressively or sometimes suddenly during an effort that stresses the patellar tendon.

The condition is rarely inaugurated by a direct shock.

The pain may disappear spontaneously, or even interfere with the child's life.

Limping and abnormal protrusion of the anterior tibial tuberosity are rarely the reason for consultation.

Pain is mechanical, and usually disappears with rest.

On examination?

General signs are absent.

Rarely, local inflammatory disorders are observed: swelling of the TTA, peritendinous edema.

The knee is dry.

Examination is focused on finding pain during manoeuvres that place tension on the patellar tendon, or during pressure on the ATT:

dynamic weight-bearing tests: squatting, bi- and unipodal jumps, forward lunge.

forced passive flexion of the knee, which is more painful in the prone position (stretching position of the rectus abdominis)

simple or counteractive active extension of the knee, the more the knee is flexed.

local percussion and pressure.

A crackling sound is sometimes felt when the ATT is palpated.

The examination should also rule out other knee disorders, meniscal or ligamentous, and look for the absence of frontal laxity (tibial spine tearing in children, where the ligaments are stronger and more resistant than the growing bone)

as well as any associated growth epiphysitis: in the feet, at the tip of the patella, at the level of the iliac crests, at the level of the spinous processes.

Is it necessary to take X-rays?

In the case of damage to a structure essentially made up of cartilage on which tendon fibers are inserted, X-rays often do not provide a precise image or criterion for diagnosis, which is above all clinical.

X-rays are taken from the side in slight internal rotation, showing the ATT clearly.

In most cases, soft-tissue changes, such as pre-tuberosity edema, are found in the progressive phase. X-rays are sometimes normal in the terminal phase. In other cases, minimal ossifications are observed. In most cases, all that remains of the sequelae is a slightly protruding APD.

X-rays may also show a high patella or genu recurvatum. A

fracture or tumour can be ruled out.

How does it evolve spontaneously?

In most cases, it is favorable within 18 months, with adjunctive treatment and advice.

Rare complications can be detected radiologically: patella alta, persistent bone sequestration, subrotular or retrotendinous bursitis.

Genu recurvatum after functional treatment is rare.

These were probably type III epiphyseal fractures falsely labelled Osgood-Schlatter disease.

Is there a real treatment?

The treatment of Osgood-Schlatter is not unequivocal.

It depends on the child's age, sporting motivation, clinical and radiological findings.

The choice of treatment therefore oscillates between abstention, cessation or reduction of sporting activities, local and regional medical treatment, immobilization in a cast or splint, and surgery.

In most cases, this overuse pathology can be treated functionally by removing the stresses exerted by the extensor apparatus on the tibial tuberosity.

Sport, or at least the activity causing the pain, is then interrupted for 4 to 6 weeks.

Exemption from school sports may be necessary for a few months, without however prohibiting the practice of club or leisure sports, for a period of 6 months to 2 years, sometimes followed by a few rehabilitation sessions.

External local treatments such as icing, gel or oil application and physiotherapy can reassure children before they resume sport.

Physiotherapy:

This should be carried out outside painful periods and before the progressive resumption of sport.

It consists of gentle periotulus massages, isometric contractions of the quadriceps, taking care to achieve complete relaxation of the quadriceps between each contraction, and slow eccentric contractions of the quadriceps, very gradually approaching the external stroke to soften the rectus abdominis.

Strengthening of the hamstrings and twins is combined with a few sessions of dynamic eccentric work on the chains concerned.

Subtubercular or supratubercular bandaging, when practising sport, may absorb some of the quadriceps' energy and thus reduce traction on the inflammatory zone.

Systemic analgesics:

in hyperalgesic forms, treatment with aspirin at a dose of 1 to 1.5 grams per day for 3 to 4 weeks can help ease the pain.

Local infiltration: corticosteroids, or sometimes local anesthetics, in the deep subrotular bursa: this technique is not recommended.

Immobilization:

Preferred in hyper-acute forms, with a rigid inguino-malleolar orthosis, to relieve pain and reduce the duration of the disease and the number of sequelae.

Re-education is then essential if the benefits are not to be lost:

concentric work against maximum resistance

then progressively eccentric work

moving progressively closer to external running.

Surgery:

There are only a few indications for surgery, always in children at the end of their growth phase and practising high-level sport.

Further information

[twittercomfrnklin2001-blog]

Assault on Precinct 13

What do you get if you mash up RIO BRAVO (1959) and NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD (1968)? If you’re lucky you get John Carpenter’s ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13 (1976, Criterion Channel no more, Peacock, Prime, Tubi, Plex), a taut action thriller that grabs you from the first percussive notes of Carpenter’s score (he also wrote the script and did the terrific editing) and doesn’t let go until the end, and that despite some uneven performances (that many critics didn’t seem to notice) and a questionable treatment of race.

It's the last night at Precinct Nine (the error in the title came from the original distributor, who thought “13” sounded more ominous) in Los Angeles’ worst neighborhood. New lieutenant Austin Stoker is only supposed to be babysitting until the crew shows up to shut it down officially the next morning, but before long he’s forced to take in a trio of convicts when one gets dangerously sick during transport to death row. Then an older man (Martin West) in shock bursts in. He can’t tell why he’s there, but we’ve seen him retaliate against the gangland killing of his daughter by shooting the gunman. Now the area’s deadliest gang is attacking the precinct, forcing Stoker to work with the convicts when all the other officers are killed.

Carpenter has written a crackerjack script with good dialog, a lot of it inspired by Howard Hawks’ films. The main convict (Darwin Joston) keeps asking for a cigarette at the unlikeliest times, a running gag right out of Hawks’ Westerns. There’s also a tough secretary who can hold her own with a gun and a quip. Unfortunately, the actress, Laurie Zimmer, is inexpressive in the wrong ways. She can’t hold a candle to such Hawks women as Angie Dickinson or Lauren Bacall. At that, she’s better than Carpenter regular Nancy Loomis as another secretary so shrill and hysterical you don’t expect her to last long. Fortunately, Stoker and Joston are both quite good at capturing one of Hawks’ most reliable tropes, the two men brought together by proficiency in the face of danger. Carpenter has Joston flirting with Zimmer but the real heat is between the two men.

Early on, a radio report on the gang, Street Thunder, points out that they’re the rare group with members from all races. That’s supported by the casting of Frank Doubleday, who has great presence, as the group’s White Warlord (that’s how he’s billed). Once he’s killed, however, it’s hard to miss that all of the gang members we see assaulting Precinct Nine are people of color. Carpenter treats them like the zombies in NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD. They’re the faceless other, only they do have faces, and unfortunately, they’re all black and brown.

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 9, Number 11, Part 1

Niecey Blues

Where did the year go?  Seems like only a week or two ago, we were scraping together a list of albums we had somehow missed out on in 2022.  Now we’re about to do it again, I suppose, and the number of misses seems to grow larger every year.  Still, we’re still shoveling away at what 2023 has brought so far—nouveau shoegaze and Vangelis synths, Michigan rap and free-improvised vibraphone.  Check out this month’s Dust, the next to last for 2023, for music you might have overlooked.  Contributors include Jennifer Kelly, Bryon Hayes, Ian Mathers, Bill Meyer, Andrew Forell, Ray Garraty, Justin Cober-Lake, Alex Johnson, Jim Marks, Christian Carey, Patrick Masterson and Tim Clarke. 

Like last month, we'll be doing this in two parts, here's the second one.

Bedroom Eyes — Turned Away (Ala Carte)

Bedroom Eyes, from Boston, balance the churn and drift of shoegaze. This fourth LP (the last was in 2019) floats cool, slow-moving melodies over rackety barrages of feedbacked guitars and drums. Whether cuts like “Around” are still or in furious motion is an open question. It depends on where you focus. The title track manifests itself out of the slow buzz of feedback, bits of singing, guitar and percussion taking form out of a vibrating soup. It sounds, to me, like Simply Saucer or maybe the Telescopes, submerged by fuzz, suggested rather than stated. “Brood” runs harder, the guitar notes bending with volume like MBV’s did, but the singing remains untouched and serene. If it’s calm on the surface, that’s because Bedroom Eyes is paddling furiously underneath.

Jennifer Kelly

Cherry Cheeks — CCLPII (Total Punk)

Cherry Cheeks, from Portland, Oregon, crank a wired, anxiety-ridden garage punk, the short, sharp shock of guitar stabs running through nattering bass lines and the tremulous whinge of keyboard sounds. This second LP captures their rattled energy with more force and clarity than the debut. You can hear the negative space between bursts of aggression. And yet, the sound is much the same, an aura of dread punched up until it seems to dance. “Switch” is maybe the best cut here. It cuts and jabs in antic motion, organ dopplering off from a sing-along chorus. “Explode” is nearly as pop-slanted, hopping up and down on speed, but catchy. Cuts like “Data” and “Ad Shark” make fewer concessions to anthemic-ness, but prickle and clamor with antsy sarcasm. The future is bleak, but maybe kind of fun?

Jennifer Kelly

Buck Curran — The Long Distance (Obsolete Recordings)

Buck Curran is so interconnected with the guitar, it’s easy to forget that he plays other instruments. The Long Distance shows off his skill as a synthesist. Sweeping, Vangelis-like melodies are the focus of these poignant hymns, which rest upon a foundation of sizzling analog modulation. Emotions run deep on these recordings. Leveraging reminiscence as his muse, Curran called to mind familial and foundational memories, channeling them into these moving passages. Particularly effective is “Morning Song with Lucia,” on which he adds a lovely guitar melody inspired by his daughter. The pieces are relatively short, but Curran beefs up the length of the album by offering alternate versions of some tracks. Each take offers a unique emotional angle, and the subtleties evoke an echo-like effect. The Long Distance is a surprisingly pleasant shift in oeuvre from this talented instrumentalist.  

Bryon Hayes

Great Lake Swimmers — Uncertain Country (Pheromone Recordings)

It is a very white Canadian thing to wonder whether our regional equivalent of Americana should be called Canadiana or just folk (or maybe folk rock? indie folk?). Regardless of our typical dithering over local identity, Tony Dekker’s Great Lake Swimmers have been a mainstay and exemplar of the form for 20 years now. They’d be forgiven for resting on their laurels (or around here… pinecones?) but the restless, quietly gorgeous Uncertain Country doesn’t take anything for granted. Whether adding choral vocals on the graceful “Moonlight, Stay Above” or whipping up a surprisingly dense churn on the title track, the band’s eighth album is a showcase of what they do well. The effect is perhaps most powerful on songs like “Riverine” and “Swimming Like Flying” that feel equally at home in the concert hall or sung en masse around a campfire.

Ian Mathers

The Invisible Hands—The Big Minute (Abduction)

The Big Minute, the third official release by the Invisible Hands, comes a full eight years after its predecessor. Yeah, that is one big minute. Blame it on COVID, a revolving drummer’s chair, and the fact that Alan Bishop, the one American in this Cairo-based band, has a lot of other irons in the fire. The LP’s crisp, slightly trippy sound, and wide-open but particular repertoire establishes the Invisible Hands as the biggest fish in a very small pond; can you name any other Egyptian psychedelic garage bands from with a thing for 50-year-old soundtracks? I thought not. While Bishop’s aesthetic clearly points the way, this is a band. For every one of his signature moves, there’s also a moment when it’s Cherif El Masri’s encyclopedic guitar licks, Ayawasqa’s scrappy Arabic singing, and Adham Zidan’s arrangements and production that sells the song. If you have read this far, yeah, you should give it a minute. 

Bill Meyer

The Inward Circles — Before We Lie Down in Darkness (Corbel Stone Press)

Scottish composer Richard Skelton’s previous work as The Inward Circles involves subjecting clean recordings of strings to all nature of electronic and physical destruction to portray decay and environmental collapse. On his first album in six years, Skelton manipulates a six-second fragment of Baroque recorder music taken from the run-out groove of a battered 50-year-old vinyl recording. From this already degraded source he builds haunted soundscapes that to tap into something primordial and timeless. To call them drones does a disservice to the depth of nuance and detail in Skelton’s music. He captures something elemental within layers of sound built like geological strata trapping a record of growth and death, of destruction and recovery. Before We Lie Down in Darkness is a powerfully evocative elegy to the earth and warning to its inhabitants.

Andrew Forell

Lando Bando — Family Business (The Hip Hop Lab Records)

The Hip Hop Lab’s CEO Lando Bando brought together Michigan rappers close to his studio for this tape. Family Business showcases the state of things in Michigan. That state is not great, by the way, but it’s not bad either. Quite a lot of clumsy rapping on here, and a few cuts should have been left out. Still, it shows that all three ShittyBoyz members are in excellent shape, and Lando deserves our highest appreciation for scoring not one but two Rio da Yung Og’s verses. The highlight here is “Dirty Pop,” an unexpected collaboration between Rio and StanWill on a Danny G beat.

Ray Garraty

Lau Nau – Aphrilis (Beacon Sound/Fonal)

Finnish composer Lau Nau (also known as Laura Naukkarinen) tends to make slow-moving music, but, this year at least, she makes it fast. Aphrilis marks her second release of the year, following spring's 5 x 4. She spent years developing that release, focusing on equipment (Buchla 200 modular synthesizer) and time-signature (5/4). With Aphrilis, she returns to a meditation on time and place (something her past field recordings have captured so well) through mostly acoustic instrumentation. The album opens with “April,” as both instruments and vocals suggest the opportunities of that month's bright beginnings. The mood continues into “Kielet on viritetty tuuleen,” with Hermanni Yli-Tepsa's violin providing the linear guide through the accessible yet intricate composition. The album builds off these initial expressions, settling into a sense of home that remains expansive, the unusual instrumentation — including celesta and jouhikko among other unnamed “various instruments” — maintaining a very specific sound. Múm's Samuli Kosminen produces, and the fit makes sense even as Lau Nau captures a melodic ambience in a specific setting, adding flow while mixing synthetic and acoustic sounds. The album closes with “Seitsemäs taivas,” which might mean “seventh heaven” but sounds more like the start of autumn, tracing an emotional arc throughout Aphrilis. The belief in hope lingers, the brightness reshaped into an iterative composition that finally yields to something colder but never foreboding.

Justin Cober-Lake

MJ Lenderman — And the Wind (Live and Loose!) (Anti- )

Not exactly starched and buttoned-up to begin with, Jake “MJ” Lenderman and Co. come out even more ragged and rangy on the new live album And The Wind (Live and Loose!). The 15 tracks, recorded at gigs in Chicago and Los Angeles, are drawn almost exclusively from last year’s Boat Songs and 2021’s Ghost of Your Guitar Solo, and aren’t so much reimagined in front of their audiences as revved up and deepened. A few telling moments: Lenderman’s voice finds a lower pit of wistfulness in the sighing line “I know why we get so fucked up/I do” from “TLC Cagematch”; “Knockin” – in its third recorded iteration – gets an extra few roaring seconds and snarling decibels added to its big, heart-on-sleeve conclusion; the heavy drum fills and pugilistic blasts of guitar that end “SUV” veer closer to chaos. The band’s showcase, though, comes near the end on an extended jam of “You Are Every Girl To Me,” where the players, led by the points of light spinning off of Xandy Chelmis’ pedal steel and shredding lead guitarist Jon Samuels, rip out any remaining seams before easing back down for Lenderman to make introductions. And if you haven’t met them yet, And The Wind is a good place to start.

Alex Johnson

Mac J – I  Shoulda Been Dropped This (TrueStoryEnt)

Mac J’s been lazy lately. His recent tapes sound as if he’s only put one third of his talent in his music. I  Shoulda Been Dropped This, sadly, is no exception. He’s desperately trying to make his sound more mainstream and less street. Instead of crazy punchlines, witticisms and gritty reality, we get banalities and half-assed street ballads with Mac J on Auto-Tune almost on every song. It’s a wonder how “Engine Ina Trunk,” his track with another California resident Philthy Rich, even made it to this tape. It’s the old good rapping-his-ass-off Mac J, hungry for rhymes and punching you in the guts with every line. Except for this song, he shouldn’t been dropped this. 

Ray Garraty