#the woes of playing a large instrument

[arsene-fixates]

picking up and putting down double basses are so tiring i need to start working out i think

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of the Ruler of the Abyss.

Kneel to the Thorn Fairy, who shall make manifest one’s dreams—the wishes made by the heart.

He promises happy endings for all. Woe to those who doubt and defy his vision.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

Alone.

He has always been alone.

But alone he is no longer—not when he is in his castle, surrounded by hordes of his people. He will never be alone again. No one will, all thanks to his efforts.

Never, never, never.

Malleus easily traverses the thorn-crusted lounge, floating across them like a specter. The bodies of school staff and fellow students lie limp in chairs and couches. Eyes closed, chests rising and falling rhythmically.

As he passes, he runs a hand along their scalps. Brushing their hair, patting their heads. Tender touches wishing them well.

Here is a king's domain, and here are his subjects. He, the dragon guarding his trove of invaluable treasures.

Malleus turns to face his captive audience, arms spread out toward them. “Today is something of a special occasion: Night Raven College’s Founding. I do believe this warrants a celebration—and, of course, all are invited to the festivities.”

A wave of magic washes over the room. Conical party hats manifest on each person's head, decorations appearing from thin air. Banners drape across the walls, streamers spill from black-clothed tables laden with food, and balloons tuck into the corners, safe from the needle-like thorns.

He projects applause, stunned oohs and aahs. Here, he is not a monster, but fellow man.

"Hmm, we're still missing something." Malleus strokes his chin, deep in thought. He snaps his fingers. "Ah, that's it! Music. It's not a proper party without any music."

With the wave of his hand, he summons a series of floating instruments. Bass, cello, viola, violin, harp, each bathed in an eerie green glow. They start playing by themselves, as if being handled by skillful, invisible hands.

Soft orchestral song fills the venue.

The guests rise, puppeted by the strings of his magic. Thorns on the floor retreat, allowing his peers to spill over onto the area repurposed for dance. Heads loll over--Malleus frowns and fixes them.

"There we are."

A glittering assemblage.

He smoothly conducts the bodies into neat pairs.

A waltz, he thinks, is ideal. It is also one of the few forms of dance he is familiar with. A waltz it shall be.

Palms link, fingers intertwine. Hands upon shoulders and upon backs. And then they are set to the hypnotic swing of the music, slow and sweet and intoxicating, like a steady drip of honey into one's mouth.

Malleus threads past the avid dancers and to the one person that has not been matched. The little bat who had almost flown away, far out of his grasp.

"Lilia," Malleus breathes raptly, "look at how happy everyone is. No one was left out. No one was forgotten. No one has to be alone anymore."

With this gift... my blessing... I've protected their smiles.

The duty of any Draconia.

He's proud--elated--but Lilia, alas, does not share the sentiment. Instead, the ancient fae wears a placid expression, eyes sewn shut. The same as all the other guests.

Malleus chuckles. No one hears it but himself.

"How exciting your dream must be. Action and adventure, at the best of your strength... I'm afraid this humble gathering cannot compare."

He’s sure Lilia would agree with him, were he awake.

“Never mind that," Malleus says, dispelling the thought. No more what ifs, only there ares. "Would you care for food? You'll need to keep your energy up for the celebration--it just may last all night."

He beckons with a finger, and a platter with a large cake hovers over. It is an extravagant seven layers, each a different flavor. Details are piped on in buttercream icing, invoking the image of each dormitory. A chocolate raven, wings open and prepared for flight, crowns the dessert.

A cake knife slides into Lilia's hand. His fingers slowly closer around the handle. With Malleus's guidance, he cuts into the topmost layer--Diasomnia--of the cake.

Something thick, red, and sticky leaks from the insides. The knife is coated as it is pulled back, freeing a slice. The violet crumb is fine, the frosting neon green with a dark chocolate drip.

Devilishly decadent.

"Come, you must try this," Malleus insists, stabbing a fork into the cake. He stuffs the bite into Lilia's mouth--but it doesn't stay, just rolls out and lands with a squishy splat on the ground.

Malleus eagerly waits for Lilia to beam at him, to praise him for its deliciousness.

It never comes.

Malleus laughs as though Lilia has responded as he imagines him to. He's drunk with delirium.

The strings abruptly screech, the dancers ceasing in their revelry.

He lets the unfinished slice fall. The plate shatters, reflecting one hundred Malleuses, one hundred Lilias. So many realities, and yet this is the one he has been dealt.

He guides the corners of Lilia's mouth upward, forcing a smile.

"Happy Night Raven College Founding Day," Malleus whispers, "and may you all have the sweetest of slumbers."

To his guests, to Lilia, to himself. And to the world that will soon be joining them in this delightful, never-ending dream.

Raising a hand, he unleashes fireworks from his palm. They explode in wild shapes and colors, emitting warmth and dazzling lights. The display is beautiful but fleeting--long shadows running along the walls before they blip out of existence and return to the darkness.

Every dream is like a firework, he surmises. A fiery flower frozen in time at the height of its bloom. They shall never wither nor fade.

Malleus reclines into his seat--a spiked and scaled throne, mounted high above the party venue. A lone king, untouchable.

Seated upon a mountain of lies, he looks out at his twisted kingdom. It’s a scene of his own creation, props lovingly places and toys carefully posed, acting out situations in his head.

The average school day at Night Raven College: students bickering, teachers watching over them. They see him, smile and wave. Talk with him, invite him.

Stay with him.

A loop playing, forever and ever.

Malleus sighs contentedly.

This is his happily ever after—from now until the end of eternity.

[3584-tropical-fish]

Guess who just remembered this really old document they have sitting in their notes. Anyways woe empires smp season 1 dance style headcanons be upon ye

Pixandria: Dancing on sand is hard, so dances are specifically meant to be done on stone. Because of this, Pixandrians started dancing with the intent of making sounds with their feet and dance with a sort of tap shoe. Since the Anthill has the hardest rock of Pixandria, structured dances are done there. The Anthill has the added bonus of being the place closest to the sky, and dance is heavily associated with the winds and the storm. Dances are mostly calls for rain or a celebration of it. They are accompanied by drums, which mimic thunder, and the dance is very percussive and grounded. Wearing copper jewelry is also a large part of the dances, since it is so important to Pixandrian culture, calls the storm, and adds extra noise when it clinks together that sort of mimics rainfall

Mythland: I’d imagine partner dances are a very big part of their culture, and large group dances even more so. A lot of interlinking arms and Maypole style dances, because connection is very important to Mythlanders. This probably stems from the blood magic, and a major theme of Mythland blood magic is feeling connected to those around you. Mythland dances are grounded, and often done barefoot

Gilded Helianthia: Like Mythland, they have a heavy emphasis on partner dances, but group dances are less of a thing there. Duets are a large part of their culture in general. They’d dance a style similar to Irish, and their music is also in that style. Their dancing has two major styles: a down-to-earth, grounded style often done barefoot or with hard shoes, and a more lifted and airy style meant to praise the sun and mimic sunflowers

The Overgrown: The Overgrown dances are incredibly airy, they use a lot of flowing fabrics and include the fabric in their movement. Dances are always performed outside because it’s a celebration of the flowers and magic around them. Dances are often done solo as a coming of age rite. There are a series of set dances that everyone learns that are done on important days. Typically fast paced

Rivendell: Think French aristocracy, court dances. Performed with small steps on the balls of your feet, typically as a partner dance. Slow, measured, and lifted. There are very strict guidelines for how these dances are done, and are often meant to be a display of power. Ornate costumes are an important aspect of the dances

The Crystal Cliffs: Dancing is incredibly informal here, and not done often. Because the Cliffs are mainly a place of study and not a proper sovereign state, there are students from all over the world. So, styles from all different empires mix as the students share their native styles during their free time. The dance styles that have evolved here are short and quick, since students often fit them in between other things the need to do

The Grimlands: Like in Mythland, group dances are important to Grimlands culture. However, instead of dancing together, dances are done like breakdance cyphers where steps are exchanged in a turn based system. The Grimlands style stems from an older, more syncopated version of Mythland dance. It is grounded, and a major aspect of it is the way that their boots scuff across the ground to provide accents

The Undergrove: Shrub doesn’t dance much, but she tried to teach the wolves a gnome dance once. Gnome dances are known for their use of dizzying turns and focus on arm movement. It’s common to sing/play an instrument and dance at the same time, though when that occurs the steps are less complex than when one can put all their effort into just dancing. Dancing together is important to gnome culture

The Lost Empire: There are four very spiritual dances, one for each of the temples. Each has a slightly different style, but they’re not overly difficult so no one dies due to the heat of the jungle. These dances are only done by the emperor and the ones who upkeep the temple, and there are many rules surrounding these dances that apply to attire, where the dances are done, when they are done, as well as the importance of knowing why the dances are done. Secular dances focus on stomping rhythms out with your feet and a lot of improv, as well as up and down movement with the arms and torso which mimics bird wings

Mezalea: Dance isn’t a major part of Mezalean culture, since the entire population is Joel and his clones and Joel wasn’t much of a dancer. Instead, Mezalea focuses on visual art more than performing art. For the scattering of Mezaleans that do dance, dance is a means of creating art by painting the soles of their feet and dancing across a canvas or slab of terracotta with the sole purpose of creating patterns. So, Mezalean dance is categorized by the dancer dragging their feet across the floor and many repeated motions

The Ocean Empire: Dances here are very swing, there are a lot of weight shifts and partner dances where on person spins another around. Since it’s the Ocean Empire, most dance is done underwater, which leads to a very unique way of dancing that can’t be done anywhere else. Vertical height is played with a lot, as well as the use of loose clothes and long ribbons held by the dancers

The Cod Empire: The dances in the Cod Empire are quick and lively. They also use swing rhythms, as well as many dances that are meant to be performed in canons. Cod Empire dancing is very informal, and spontaneous challenges are issued from one person to another which starts off a round of dancing that may last for hours

Bonus, Mangrovia: Mangrovia is the home of refugees from all over, and the dancing reflects that. Like in the Crystal Cliffs, there is no one clear style, and instead an amalgamation of shared dances from all over. It is common for musicians from one empire to start up a song and dancers to match the feel, then another group of musicians will jump in and take over in a sort of call and response. Many people in Mangrovia know not only their native dance style, but also pick up many other styles so they can jump into any dance

[changingplumbob]

Honey, I'm home!

TLDR: I'm back. Incoming reblogs. Normal posting resumes 21st at 9am NZDT (GMT+13).

My cat summary, tales of travel woe and random trip tidbits below.

Cat! The cat survived the cattery. Apparently she wasn't eating too much and just stayed in her cage area (I say cage but it was a neat two level set up, she had an individual food bowl, litter tray and cat bed). She's lost a bit of weight so she'll be getting bigger feeds the next few days. She's periodically patrolling the house and hiding in my bed which is fair.

Travel! So our first bus was running late. Trying to make up for it the bus sped over the hill. Imagine sitting sideways on a bus with a large suitcase as the bus quickly drives a winding downhill road. So fun right (sarcasm is heavy here). We made the train but halfway through the trip it stopped and sat for 10 minutes because of an "incident" (yeah I'm curious to). Bus from train station to airport was fine but the baggage check in went down just as we reached it. Then the plane was delayed by about half and hour. Fast forward to this morning. Checking in at the airport early to discover our 8:15am flight was cancelled because the aircraft was damaged overnight. They put us in a van for a nice hour and a half trip along a sometimes empty, sometimes standstill motorway. At the new airport we checked in fine, but what do you know the plane home was delayed. Hour delay this time. Eventually back home, took the airport bus to the train station no problem. What do you know, the train line was having errors and replacement buses were running instead. At the home train station we just gave up and got a taxi to the vets, and then home.

Wedding! It was nice, my cousin and his bride were so damn happy. It was in a place called the Tree Church where the structure is actually made out of shrubs so it's like getting married in a church made out of nature. The sun was shining and she walked down the isle to an instrumental of Taylor Swift - Wildest Dreams. Her dress was gorgeous, their vows were sweet and I was sitting in an aisle seat so got to throw flower petals over them as they walked up the aisle together. Then (remember I'm in summer people) they had an ice cream truck after a champagne toast and they had vegan ice cream!!!

Reception! It was at a vineyard and half the area had trellises with grapes growing above you. There was so much food, and some vegan stuff! Because my cousin has a large family (lots of aunts and uncles) I was the only cousin from our branch. But you know when the band started playing ABBA I had to get up and dance with my aunts because how can you not dance to Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (Man After Midnight)? I sang along, loudest to Love Story obviously.

Tea Ceremony! So my cousin's wife (is she my cousin in law now? IDK), her parents are Chinese and came to NZ before she was born. She had lots of family fly over from China and Canada and they brought her and my cousin these beautiful red robes for a tea ceremony. Basically it allows the married couple to honour their elders by serving them tea. The couple also get money and jewellery from elders. Apparently all the Cantonese speaking relatives told them they hoped to see a grandchild next year, no pressure cousin.

Internet! As some of you probably realised the air bnb had wifi so I was able to keep up on some people's posts. But because I'm an overthinker I wanted to keep my post about going away near the top of my blog. I'm now going to blog some things I wanted to reblog during the 5 days which you may well have already seen but I want to reblog anyway to show support.

Me! This whole thing has been about me but anyway, I am very sleep deprived. I was not sleeping well before we left. The house we were staying was so creeky I barely slept while we were there. So I'm going to do extra rambles because that's what happens when I'm tired. Thank you for a couple of sunflowers today, with my travel chaos I needed them. I keep them in my inbox for low days but appreciate it beyond measure. I'm going to try get to my asks today but sleep may claim me first. The favourite facts are coming I promise! Lastly check out this puzzle that I was fiddling with intermittently for 3 days. I can't believe I eventually solved it!

[huskyremix]

Hey everyone! Here to finally share more about the farm game au I’ve been working on~ This post is for what the au is about, as well as the map I created for where it takes place! However, there are a number of locations and even the Valley itself that I still haven’t determined the names of yet, this post will be updated when I have though! ( will even take suggestions )

General Synopsis

Moving out and living on his own for the first time, Lambert is the new farmer in Seraphim Town. Having visited the land as a child, even if it was just for a short time, the memories of those days always stuck close with him. Finding out that Ratau, a family acquaintance, was retiring and wishing to sell his farmland, Lambert jumped at the chance to make it his own. 

But Lambert arrives to find the land going through a rough patch. The fields aren’t growing crops like they used to, the fishing scene is scarce, amongst other issues. By a chance encounter, Lambert meets a Harvest Sprite, who is overcome with delight at meeting a new sheepfolk and farmer. The sprite- Faun- tells Lambert their woes, that the Harvest Goddess has gone into slumber, and the only way to awaken them once more is to find the 7 Relic Instruments of the land. Playing the instruments will also help to restore everything to its former flourishing self! But nothing will be completely fixed until the Goddess wakes up again.

World Map

Located to the east is the Farmland, right next to the stone bridge that leads out of the valley. On the hill top to the North East above is the Goddess Pond, whose water seems to travel down all the way into the pond located on Forneus’ Kneady Kritters Ranch down south.

Next to the Farmland is a tall hill, and on the other side of that you reach the Festival Grounds of Seraphim town. On either side of the hill are proper paths into town, the southern one takes you to the Ranch as well, and the north branches off to the Goddess’ Pond, entrance to the Darkwoods, and right next to the woods you’ll find the way to the mountains.

In Darkwoods is where many forest beasts dwell, it is highly encouraged to not enter without being properly prepared. There’s a rumor that a tall red mansion stands deep within these woods, but no one has been brave enough to get near it.

To the east of these woods and north of the Farmlands, past the much less dense forest, you can find the remains of some sort of ancient structure. Mysterious in nature, the only few documentation on them can be found at the town’s Library. 

Down south from the town, you’ll find Shell Tough Carpenters, right on the cliffside that surrounds the beach, and also located right behind Forneus’ ranch.

On the other side of the beach are the Docks, where all matters of fishing and oversea trade are handled. There’s also an entrance to an underground cave in this area, but is currently off-limits due to safety precautions. Down south is a small island where the Lighthouse is located, with easy sailing access back and forth from it to the mainland.

Focusing back around the town, up in the north west there is a path to the Church, that also splits off into the path towards the mountains up north, with the other path leading to the house of the Sorceress, located right behind the church. This path also leads to the graveyard, watched over by the church.

Behind the Sorceress house you have Spore Grotto, an unusual humid area where mushrooms thrive. Right outside is where the researcher, Sozo, has set up camp to study the place and its secrets. A forest surrounds both the Grotto, House, and part of the Church. There’s an easy to miss trail in the northwest that leads up to a Hot Springs, connected to the side of the Mountains. From the Hot Springs and Mountain peak is where you can see a large rock formation out in the ocean, known as The Eye of the Crown. No one knows why it was given this particular name, aside from the hole formation in it having the appearance of an eye.

[irishgolfadventure]

An Old Tom Morris Day

Happy Sunday to everyone! Hope you have enjoyed time with your family and had a chance to go to church on this first Sunday of May! Thanks to technology, we were able to attend our church remotely although it was at 4:00p afternoon after we had another great day of golf!

We played the Old Tom Morris course at Rosapenna  today. Rosapenna, as I mentioned in an earlier post is very similar to The Bandon Dunes Golf Complex in Oregon although with only three courses instead of five. The Old Tom Morris course is the oldest of the courses, founded in the late 1800′s by you guested it, - Old Tom Morris, a famous Irish countryman that is often sited as instrumental in bringing golf to Ireland.

The course has gone through a few redesigns since its beginning and proved to be a wonderfully designed course that was a little easier than the first four courses played. Wider fairways, lighter heather in most places and bunkers that were not quite as penal as some of the other courses. Of course, that didn’t keep me or Kim from finding plenty of trouble throughout Old Tom’s course!

The weather was really good today. Sunny, winds around 10-12 mph and temps in the mid 50′s. All the locals were in shirt sleeves but not the Bell’s. Our caddie Brendon was a likable young man that did everything he could to help us enjoy our play and straighten out our putting woes. We have been challenged with the different grasses on the different greens which make the speeds vary greatly from course to course. Also, the vast differences in the amount of undulation in the greens and the changing wind velocities have made our putting less than stellar!

After the round, we headed to the clubhouse bar that had a panoramic view of the courses that wind their way along the shoreline of the Atlantic. Had a pint of Guinness, talked our way through the round we just played and then headed back to our hotel to go to church:-)  

We topped off the evening going into the small village of Downing. It’s located about a half of a mile from the resort. One unusual characteristic of the village is that all the houses are white! It’s quite a scenic little place as it has one small main street with several restaurants and then the houses of the village are built upon the hillside that runs up from the main street. They are small is size but have great views of the beach and the large bay that cuts its way into the town from the Atlantic Ocean.

We ate at the Goose and the Gander, a combination of Irish pub and restaurant. It was great food, dim lighting and very busy. The village’s outdoor activity fields were right across the street so the G&G was a convenient place for teams to gather for a pint after their games. 

Tomorrow brings another day of golf for me and Kim is taking the day off and has a few calls scheduled for the afternoon. She is debating about driving to Letterkenny, a town 17 miles away, to go to the Duds & Suds to do a little laundry. Surprisingly, this beautiful resort we are staying in has NO laundry service for guests!  She is reluctant to drive there because of the narrow roads and the fact she has never driven in Ireland. Will report back of her decision!

Stay tuned!  gb

[spkyscry-a]

@royalreef​ sent: 

Speaking of which, she's wrapping a blanket around Vera again, and pulling herself in as close as she can. There's a slight tremor along Miranda's spine now, over her scales, hanging there like a bad aura. Every touch spikes something in her brain, every moment together makes her go a little more wild-eyed, a little more distracted. Now, every time Vera touches her, she makes a soft keening sound, lifts herself up into Vera's hands, into her arms, mad with her wanting.

It's getting to be a lot. Harder to concentrate, harder to do anything else, harder to manage her time in ways that are not clinging onto Vera. It's something her people are already aware of and prepared for, but it does mean she's tailing Vera more and more. Finding it harder to simply go home at the end of the day, to step away for brief moments. Trying not to outright be a pest of herself, bringing coffee and drinks and other such things, always there with a blanket, but it's getting closer, and the closer it gets the more intense the need grows.

She makes little shuttering breaths as she plasters herself to Vera's side. Trying to pull in more air than she can breathe, trying to hold herself together, trying to keep it all from unraveling. It's bad this year, fresh relationship in her mind adding to the further pressures and keeping her unable to divide her attention any further. Unable to balance it between more people, while the need flushes hotter and hotter than its been on subsequent years.

That's probably why she begins to sing, all curled up against Vera like the drowning. It's not a song like how she would recognize, there are no words, and it does not carry like a hum. Miranda opens her mouth and her chest begins to rumble, and at once she is an instrument being played. Orchestral, in her quality, filling the room with a tone like whalesong but holding dimensions within it that do not seem right for whales, not right for a sound that is being made by someone else. Too large for her body, too large for the building, made to travel and to travel and to travel, to speak to people who have never even seen her face.

It sounds like yearning. It sounds like the thing inside of her reaching out, filling all the space that it could not fit inside Miranda, the music washing over itself like a hurricane, like tides, like the point before a storm. Like burning, like want, like desire, like hunger.

It's getting bad. Miranda doesn't usually sing, not around landfolk, because they have no way of returning the gesture or understanding what it means. Regularly it is found annoying, bothersome. When she does, it is either alone, or unthinking, the places where Miranda's impulses take over and her voice speaks before her brain thinks.

Now is one of the latter cases, with nothing else to relieve the pressure.

Vera was still woefully unused to her girlfriend’s woes and it just made situations like these all the more tragic. How she could only wrap an arm around Miranda as she was pulled in. She would never, of course, call Miranda a nuisance. It was not something that would cross her mind, when there was a biological imperative that made her such a way this time of year. Even then, if Miranda had done this merely on a whim, she doubted it would change her view on it. So she merely hopes being there is enough for her.

And then Miranda begins to sing. It’s a strange thing. She can’t quite put it into words, how it makes her feel. Like trying to make sense of raw emotions without the words being there to convey them, yet she did grasp parts of it. Even as it fills the entire building with its sound. With all of those concepts put into a wave of music that didn’t quite fit anything most knew on land. Let alone be able to properly convey to another if they even had. 

Vera felt bad, not because of the singing itself, but because the sound felt so.. yearning, if she had to pick a specific word to rationalize it. She couldn’t reciprocate it like the other. Couldn’t quite do the same thing, but... well, she could at least try, of course.

Vera was always a good singer, even if she so rarely did it. If one were privier to Gorgons, it would be because she was a temptress. A glorified siren on land, meant to bring people in. Lull those into trusting her. So while her vocal chords could never compare to Miranda, nor her lungs, she did her best to meet somewhere in the middle.

It was more akin to an opera singer, truthfully, still carrying farther than she had credit to give. A melodic thing, trying to convey the hopeful, tender closeness. That, yes, this was just another wave in the sea and they would be there once it passed. Not nearly as impressive as Miranda’s, if she were asked, not cascading over itself in wonderful and impossible ways, but still so unnatural to human ears. Would stick out amongst any with more human chords. 

A monster, meant to tempt, trying to use chords for sinister intents for something woefully different: A tender ‘we’ll get through this’, pouring that sentiment into every ounce of wordless song she could as she held Miranda to her. Not quite the same, but, she hoped it would be enough to help. Like she was so desperately trying lately.

[art-blogge]

Merged Tracks! C-9

"-- And Woe, Zoroark be upon ye!"

"Noo!" yelled Emmet, clinging to Galvantula, "Ingo, that's so scary! Why is it a ghost? Why is it a ghooost?"

Ingo smiled slightly, leaning back on the bench. Now that the workday was over, Jackie had asked Ingo if he knew any scary stories from Hisui. Ingo had been delighted to deliver.

"Hisuian Zoruas passed away from the bitter cold," Ingo now explained, giving all of the Agents and Emmet a temporary break from the horror tales, "And returned as spirits of malice. I cannot personally confirm this, but that's how the tale went."

"Hisui has quite a few ghost stories," Ramses observed, "Can you tell another?"

Jackie, who was writing these down, agreed frantically. The horror writer and the ghost fanatic wanted more? Ingo would gladly deliver. Asking Chandelure to set mood lighting, he leaned forward and bridged his fingers together. His eyes glowed in the darkness, and his Scraggy-like smile slowly crossed his face.

"All right. Let me finish off with a tale of the rivers, the Basculin that perished within... And why one shouldn't take their own safety for granted."

---- Emmet had to step out for a bit. He never did horror as well as Ingo, and no one commented on him leaving. There was nothing wrong with being scared, even if it was just a story. And that was a-okay! He took the time to bury his face into Galvantula's fluff, and she gently nibbled on his arm. Affection.

What drew him back was a sound he'd never heard before, echoing through the tunnel. Upon his return, he spotted Ingo holding what was maybe? A flute? And softly playing it. How exciting! Ingo had learned an instrument!

What startled everyone present was when the notes were returned perfectly a few moments later. This was no echo, and Ramses immediately grabbed onto Isadore in terror. Furrowing his brow, Ingo played the short tune again, only for it to be returned much quicker this time

"I will investigate! I will be right back!" Emmet announced, turning on his heel. Galvantula, still in his arms, spit some string out onto the floor. If something happened, they could still be tracked down.

"Certainly not! I am coming with you, Emmet!"

Ingo was at his side in a second, Chandelure following. A moment passed. They looked at each other and nodded, before both pointing ahead.

"Ahead!"

Isadore rolled his eyes and went back to scrolling Poketwit. Why were his bosses such dorks? ---- Ingo carefully played a few notes, and waited for the return notes. They'd gotten far closer, as if it was coming from the lobby. Emmet held a hand up in front of Ingo's face, and they both stopped.

"Wait. I think I know who it is!"

Without explaining further, Emmet beelined to what appeared to be several bags of trash on a nearby bench. Ingo started to grab Garbodor's pokeball, but was startled when the pile moved and looked at Emmet, revealing a very human face.

"Oh. Hello, Station Master."

He knew that voice. Ingo knew that voice. He knew it well, and a wave of anger washed over him before he patted it down. No, it couldn't be.

The pile moved again, lit by Chandelure. Ingo could now clearly see it was a man and his large backpack, covered by a coat that was far too large for him. And the blond hair...

"Hi, travel buddy! Did you miss the last train? The Station is closed now!" Emmet was clearly okay with this person, so it couldn't be HIM. That wouldn't make sense anyway. Humans don't live that long, unless...

"That does explain it," came the familiar-voiced reply, "But who's playing the flute? I need to thank them before I forget. I haven't played that song in years. I didn't even remember it at first."

Emmet pointed back to Ingo, grinning.

"That was Ingo! I don't know when he learned that but it's verrry nice!"

"Ingo..." the man trailed off, and Ingo felt a horrid taste in his mouth. No. No. No...

"I know that name," he continued, pulling his hood down to reveal more of that blond hair Ingo didn't want to see, "I definitely recall that name. I bet he's right mad at me."

He was entirely correct. Ingo, in a move of uncontrolled anger, stomped over and grabbed the man by the collar before slamming him against the wall. He ignored Emmet's "Woah, woah, woah, Ingo!" in favor of glaring at the man's face. Volo.

"You..!" Ingo growled, his grip tightening, "You caused us no end of problems..!"

Volo stayed surprisingly calm, and it only made Ingo madder. How dare he be so casual about this! How DARE he be so unbothered! HOW DARE--

"Ingo, please!" Emmet cut in, trying to bring Ingo's arms down, a look of fear on his face. Seeing Emmet, Ingo realized how illogical he was being and slowly put Volo down, but it didn't cool his rage.

"I know what he did already!"

Well, that did the trick nicely. Ingo blinked, and furrowed his brows again. Emmet knew?

Emmet knew.

"Yes, I do know! He told me on our first trip together! I punched him in the face! I'm not proud of it!" Emmet mimed punching Volo, and Volo didn't even flinch. Emmet had clearly done this numerous times.

"He really did," Volo confirmed, tilting his head slightly, "Your brother hits like a truck. I wouldn't be surprised if you did as well."

Seeing that Ingo was still very confused, Volo continued speaking.

"I don't entirely remember everything that happened, since the Lake Guardians all cursed me. That hasn't stopped me one bit, but I know I was completely out of line. I don't want forgiveness, because I'm not sorry-"

Ingo's fist slammed into Volo's stupid crooked grin before Volo could finish his sentence, sending the blond sprawling onto the floor.

"Hmmm, I'm afraid I don't share your sentiment, Emmet. That felt quite good." ---- "I still refuse to apologize. I can't apologize for something in good faith if I can't recall it clearly," Volo stated, nursing his jaw with an icepack. "And why would I either way? I had fun. Did you not?"

Ingo had to be held back by both Furze and Emmet. No. No, he hadn't. His experience had been 90% traumatic, 5% pain, and only 5% of anything else. He wondered how the hero was doing. Wait. By now, they'd be...

"Mr. Volo, you said you liked legendary Pokemon, right??" piped up Cloud, raising his hand. He didn't even give Volo a chance to reply, as Cloud started Talking and Rambling at maximum speed. Taking advantage of the situation, Emmet and Ingo stepped to the side for an aside.

"I do not want to throw him out, Ingo. He's my friend."

"I do not want him staying here like this, Emmet. It isn't a good lifestyle. At least get him a hotel room."

Emmet did not have a reply to this. It wasn't what he expected Ingo to say at all. Scrambling to think of something, Emmet instead spurted out "I am Emmet! I did not bring money with me!"

"Fuck, man, you sure are Emmet," Isadore sassed from the sidelines, watching the two blond legendary-lovers get more and more animated in their conversation. They were getting too loud for his liking, and it was getting hard to listen in on his twin bosses. Isadore put his headphones on and opted to stop listening entirely. That was enough of that for him.

"We have come to a decision!" Emmet announced, but both Cloud and Volo were speaking right over him. Emmet looked to Ingo, and Ingo cleared his throat.

"We SAID, we have come to a decision!!"

They heard that, definitely. All of the Agents sans Isadore (plus Volo) heard that loud and clear. They all turned to look at Ingo and Emmet. Decision on what?

Emmet extended a hand to Volo, the friendliness radiating off him.

"Why don't you work here? All the travelling you could want! All the battling you could want! All the keeping an eye on you for Ingo!"

Ingo lightly smacked Emmet for including that last part, then extended his own hand, taking over the dialogue.

"You could work with Josh as a starting job. I believe many of the AI trainers use legendaries, and your experience would greatly assist in making them more accurate. We'll have to teach you all the protocols, but I presume you'd pick up on them all quickly. We could also get you a hotel room until you find someplace to live."

Volo's expression was blank. Neither Ingo or Emmet could guess what he was thinking based on his face, so they both patiently waited. Well, Ingo did. Emmet was tapping his foot about five seconds in. Either way, expecting the local autistic train lads to try and read a non-expression and react was an impossible task.

Was he scheming? Could he genuinely not react? Had Mesprit fucked him up that badly?

No.

"What's a hotel?" ---- Volo didn't even know what pizza was. Emmet deemed this the greatest offense he'd ever heard, and immediately started to rip his wallet out of his pocket. Ingo didn't even try to stop him, earning a confused stare from Emmet.

"You're not gonna stop me?"

"No," Ingo responded, casually shaking a hand in the meantime, "Please buy pizza. I haven't had trash food in months. I need to destroy myself. That, and I'm fairly certain you already learned your lesson."

Emmet didn't respond to that. How did Ingo know? How did Ingo know he'd bought pizza for a week straight and then regretted that decision immensely? Was he that easy to predict? Was-

"Furze told me already."

Ah. Well, that saved him an embarrrrrrrrassing conversation...! Then he prrrobably didn't need to tell Ingo about the week where he ate cake for three days straight, or the weekend that he'd entirely forgotten to eat at all, or-

"Are you going to call or not?"

Oops. Emmet had gotten sidetracked. By the time he realized how completely off-track he was, Cameron had already ordered. Well. That was that, then. ---- Eating pizza? Good. Eating pizza with your friends and coworkers? Great. Eating pizza while someone hijacks the projector to play cute Pokemon videos? Excellent. All of this but also witnessing a Meiji era man accept a spicy cheeto without knowing what is about to happen? Bravo.

Ingo wasn't particularly malicious, but he had to admit that he enjoyed the results. For once, he was firmly sided with Isadore on this one. Even so, he was surprised when Volo proceeded to go back in for more. Oh no.

Meanwhile, Hank was absently spinning a half-full water bottle on the table, not participating but enjoying the vibes. He wondered how his husband was doing. As the bottle stopped, Hank went to grab it again when Jackie pounced on it, stopping him.

"Hey, Cameron! The bottle pointed towards you!" Jackie announced, pointing at his elder, "Truth or dare!"

"Dare," Cameron responded, not even slightly fazed.

"Send out Spiritomb! I need a reference for this story!!"

Cameron wasn't surprised. This was normal. Sighing, Cameron pulled out his Spiritomb's keystone from his bag and set it on the floor. Spiritomb was out in seconds, looking around for a way to cause problems on purpose. Ingo had never realized how SMALL Cameron's Spiritomb was before now.

"Is he small?" Cameron asked, and Ingo realized that his mental filter had failed him yet again.

A flash of stars, and Volo had released his own Spiritomb. Volo's Spiritomb was easily a foot taller than Cameron's. Volo's Spiritomb was also clearly far older, with his keystone being cracked and damaged all over.

The two Spiritomb immediately began to investigate each other's keystones, clearly interested. This was quickly ended when they started smashing their keystones together, trying to break them. Both Spiritomb were disappointed. Jackie was not. Jackie got exactly what he'd wanted.

"Oh, Sir! I remembered! I neeeeed to show you something!" Ramses announced, releasing a Pokemon of his own. A Mimikyu. "Look what I got recently! Isn't he the cutest thing??"

Everyone could see the sparkles in Ingo's eyes as he observed the ghost type. Ingo agreed. Ingo agreed wholeheartedly. Emmet didn't stop him from gushing- He'd done the exact same thing after requesting he touch the fabric. Mimikyu had a certified Good Texture™, he'd decided. The only real difference was that Ingo was far, FAR louder about it.

Emmet decided to cause problems on purpose.

"Ingo! If you like Mimikyu, you should see Hank's babies! Please do not be too loud!"

Ingo's head immediately swivelled to stare at Hank, and Hank jumped slightly. He would never get used to how abruptly his bosses moved sometimes.

"I only brought Zurro with me today. Azuma needed a break," he responded. Azuma, his Azumarill, was laying under the table taking a nap. She deserved the rest. With Ingo watching, Hank pulled a Scraggy out from his overall pocket. Zurro yawned and frowned. Put Him Back. Baby Worthy stared at him from Ingo's coat collar before poking at Ingo's face. Same face, same face. Mimikyu stared. Chandelure sighed. The Spiritombs resumed trying to break each others' rocky prisons.

Josh, from his spot on the floor, raised an oversized-sleeved-hand. "I found something weird in the scrapyard," he stated. He didn't wait for an answer before taking a very tiny Pokemon out of his other sleeve. A little metallic lad. A-

"YOU HAVE A MELTAN AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?!" Cloud shouted, knocking over his chair from how fast he stood up, "That's a Mythical! Don't let it on the trains! They eat metal!!"

Emmet and Ingo both repeated that last part with an additional question mark. The tiny thing didn't even have a mouth! But if this was true, it would be a definite safety hazard.

"Meltan is already banned, I'm pretty sure!" Emmet piped up, "As a Mythical, that's an instaban!"

Volo poked Meltan with a key he'd found somewhere. Meltan absorbed it immediately. Oops. Well, that was gone now.

"It eats magic," Emmet commented, and no one responded to this at first. What? What the hell was he talking about? Wait. Wait. Oh. Ingo remembered.

"Just because you struggle with keys and locks doesn't make it magic, Emmet."

"Yes it does! It's magic and you still need to show me!"

"I have shown you."

"Have not!"

"Have too!"

This went on for, you know. A while.

[butt-lore]

Guitar

Words:265

Genre:fluff

Summary:he takes it everywhere—just like your love.

He never went anywhere without it. To the beach, the mountains, the living room, the studio… everywhere Park Chanyeol went, so did his guitar. He plays melancholy blues when he’s feeling somber, toned up jazz when his days are sunny, and then there’s the time he plays his love for you.

Never the same, always a new chord is strummed when he plays in bed, the neck of the instrument against his own to accommodate you at his side. The sounds coming from the bedroom spoke of woes. The moment you cross the threshold, however, something light comes from his fingers and he forgets whatever sorrow he picked from each string. Today it’s almost blindingly bright—his love—a cheery tone to match the beaming smile. He keeps his eyes closed but his dimple deepens when you automatically pick up the song with a hum.

He finishes his song to greet you. Gentle fingers remember the melody as he traps you between both large hands to smother you with kisses. The song carries into his voice, luring you down onto the mattress with him. He plays it again along your spinal cord, an itch he can’t quite seem to scratch. He reaches for the guitar again, the neck against his own to accommodate you at his side. That’s where you belong—he said so many years ago and it holds true till this day.

He takes that guitar everywhere, and with that comes along his emotions. He plays his love for you for hours but it’s never enough. That’s why he’ll never be caught without his precious guitar.

[thepermanentrainpress]

CONCERT REVIEW: PURITY RING W/ EKKSTACY AT HOLLYWOOD THEATRE - JUNE 5TH, 2022

Red velvet fabric adorned the walls of the Hollywood Theatre, a venue tucked away on a trendy Kitsilano street. Icy blue neon lit up the wall behind the bar, and strips of golden lighting guided concertgoers down towards the stage. The atmosphere was intimate, comfortable, and visually appetizing.

It felt like a perfect fit for the beautiful and elaborate musical stylings of Purity Ring – an electro-pop duo comprised of vocalist Megan James and producer/multi-instrumentalist Corin Roddick, hailing from Edmonton, Alberta.

Purity Ring holds a special place in my heart. When the COVID-19 pandemic first hit, the group released Womb, an album that granted me peace of mind amidst the chaos. From cover art to lyrics, beats and melodies, everything is so ethereal and gorgeously synced together.

The show kicked off with opening act EKKSTACY, who delivered passionate and captivating indie punk-rock. Joined by piercing electric guitar and intense drums, EKKSTACY’s setlist included the dimly upbeat “it only gets worse, i promise,” the dominating and dark “I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING,” and the intensely disinterested “f*ck everything!”

EKKSTACY moved with devotion and purpose, often clinging onto the mic stand like his life depended on it. His vocal tone was magnetic, strong, and crisp, while still maintaining a textured indie flair. Red stage lighting painted a bold contrast with the band’s all-black attire.

“I’m actually from here,” said EKKSTACY, a little bit shyly. “I was born in Surrey.”

“You escaped!” yelled someone from the crowd. It was clear that EKKSTACY’s hometown had been sleeping on massive talent.

Purity Ring began their setlist with “pink lightning,” a song swirling in dainty electric sparkles and waves of deep bass. James entered the stage wearing a large, hooded jacket and Roddick produced behind on what looked like a chunky organ.

“Warm water rises / It still feels like I can’t stop crying / Hold me inside it / It still feels like a storm not dying.”

Next up was “soshy,” a track off the duo’s newly released album graves. Cute industrial sounds accompanied James’ elegantly processed vocals. Green abstract projections danced in the background, as golden spurts of lighting lit up Roddick’s instrument. The sound quality was exquisite.

Purity Ring played through a mix of songs from different albums, including the snappy and heavy “Obedear,” along with the slower and cinematic “i like the devil.” They also played “push pull,” “repetition,” and “Lofticries.” Each song was an enchantment that put the crowd in a trance.

“Green, green thunder / And the loud, loud rain / Lead our woes asunder / ‘Neath the proud, proud veins”

James danced lightly and gracefully, almost skating all over the stage. Her hair cascaded in the wind as colourful lighting assortments rotated, and firefly-like projections flickered in the dark. A wardrobe change during the concert had James standing on a tall chair in an extremely long dress, creating a sharp silhouette.

The musicians wore masks the entire performance and thanked those who wore them at the event, advocating for keeping each other safe.

Purity Ring’s last songs included the otherworldly pop number “bodyache,” the light-hearted “Fineshrine,” and the strikingly inspirational “graves.” Coming full circle, Purity Ring ended their performance off with “begin again.” Heavy dramatic bass contrasted with James’ gentle vocals, as the crowd joined in on the chorus.

“You’ll be the moon / I’ll be the earth / And when we burst / Start over, oh darling / Begin again”

Purity Ring’s concert was a sight for sweet eyes. It was a marvelous, magical spectacle that nurtured ears, eyes, and soul.

Written by: Jenna Keeble Photographed by: Moe Yang

[dustedmagazine]

Gordon Grdina’s Haram — Night’s Quietest Hour (Attaboygirl Records)

Night's Quietest Hour by Gordon Grdina's Haram

Gordon Grdina’s not the kind of guy who settles on just one thing. Depending on the situation, you might hear the Vancouverite play straight or bent jazz on oud, acoustic or thoroughly electric guitar. You might say he that he prefers the word “and” to the word “or.” Even before the whole world learned to blame their woes on the supply chain, Grdina’s was backed up, so in 2021 he started his own label, Attaboygirl.

So far, the label has released four CDs. A couple represent aspects of Grdina’s solo instrumental practice, and a third, Klotski, is a heavy chamber-prog effort by Grdina’s quartet, Square Peg. Night’s Quietest Hour documents an immediately pre-COVID encounter between Haram, Grdina’s long-standing large ensemble devoted to performing 20th century Arabic popular music, and guitarist Marc Ribot.

Haram’s 11 members include names such as Kenton Loewen, François Houle, and Josh and Jesse Zubot, that’ll sound familiar to anyone who has followed Vancouver’s improvised music scene in recent decades. The group’s maintained a fairly stable line-up since 2008, so despite the fact that its members spend most of their time playing other kinds of music, they’re at home with both each other and the repertoire, which on this album includes tunes from formerly Ottoman environs as far north as Turkey and as far south as the Sudan. A respectable complement of hand drums, strings and horns ensure that each gets an arrangement sufficiently sumptuous that it wouldn’t have been turned away from a Cairo nightclub in the days before synthesizers made it south of the Mediterranean.  

Grdina sticks to oud, and singer Emad Armoush is the figure around which the music revolves. But the rest of the musicians bring an improvisational exuberance and timbral imagination that pushes the music in a few forbidden directions; Houle’s clarinet, in particular, smudges both national and stylistic boundaries whenever it steps to the front of the mix. At some points, Ribot’s buzzing sustain give the music a harsh, rock edge, but he also burrows into the ensemble’s thick textures, adding roughness from within. He’s a natural addition; hopefully this album isn’t where the partnership ends.  

Bill Meyer

[passionate-reply]

This week on Great Albums: a Great Album that your average rock critic would actually agree with me about! Find out how Kate Bush got her groove back with her fifth LP, Hounds of Love, and whether she ever came down from that hill. Full transcript below the break!

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Ever since I first conceived the idea of Great Albums, I’ve always intended it to reflect nothing other than my own personal “canon”--not necessarily a list of albums that were influential, successful, or acclaimed by anybody’s standards but my own. But in this installment, I’m making a somewhat uncharacteristic move, and diving into an album that really doesn’t need me to advocate for it: Hounds of Love, by Kate Bush, often considered Bush’s greatest masterpiece--if not one of the greatest albums of all time.

Released in 1985, Hounds of Love was Bush’s fifth studio LP. Her career had started off surprisingly strong in 1977, with the release of her debut single “Wuthering Heights,” written when Bush was only 19 years old. With a high-concept theme, based around the titular novel by Emily Brontë, it would set the template for much of Bush’s subsequent career: irreverently eccentric, high-concept art-pop with the intensely personal passion of a singular singer-songwriter. But just how much patience for that sort of thing does the general public have, beyond letting the occasional “Wuthering Heights” through as a sort of novelty hit? Bush’s subsequent work in the early 1980s met with inconsistent reception, with her fourth LP, 1982’s The Dreaming, marking a particularly low point. The first album that Bush produced all by herself, The Dreaming took even more radical creative liberties, pushing her sound into increasingly experimental territory.

Music: “Get Out Of My House”

Following the fairly cold reception of The Dreaming, Bush took several years to produce her next album, but it would prove to be the one that redeemed her career, and arguably turned her into a bigger star than ever before. Hounds of Love managed to stay true to the core principles of the Bush aesthetic: moody and introspective, full of rich and complex narratives, as well as musical risk-taking. But it honed and refined that sound into something that was also remarkably pop.

Music: “Running Up That Hill”

“Running Up That Hill” was one of the biggest hits of Bush’s career, and arguably dethroned even “Wuthering Heights” as her signature song. I think the secret to its success is its ability to balance Bush’s experimental impulses with an intuitive, deep-felt emotional quality that makes her best work resonant in an accessible way. On paper, “Running Up That Hill” is as high-concept as anything else in Bush’s catalogue--a song about making a deal with God to swap sexes with your lover, and feel what life is like in another body? But at the same time, the song has an ability to “work” even if you don’t know all of that. Who hasn’t longed for a way to bargain with supernatural forces, for a chance at the impossible? There’s a certain applicability to its themes, which I think is a chief reason why it’s inspired so many covers and reimaginings over the years. But even when one listens to the original, the stately washes of digital synthesiser and the powerful conviction that propels Bush’s vocals make it easy to sympathize with. It feels grounded and physical, rooted in the most carnal aspect of the human body. Positioned as the opening track of the album, “Running Up That Hill” feels like an obvious lead single--in the best way possible. But it’s worth noting that not everything on the album is quite so radio-friendly.

Music: “Cloudbusting”

Perhaps one of Bush’s most compelling narratives, “Cloudbusting” is also, ostensibly, fairly high-concept, portraying a heavily fictionalized episode from the life of Wilhelm Reich. A controversial figure both in life and legacy, Reich is best remembered for his work in psychology, heavily influenced by the spectre of Sigmund Freud. But “Cloudbusting” focuses on his later-life fascination with the physical sciences, and his belief that a mystical energy called “orgone” was responsible for both human emotional woes as well as disturbances in the Earth’s atmosphere. Reich attempted to develop a machine that could manipulate this energy, and hence achieve the longtime dream of technological weather control, but there’s no evidence his “cloudbuster” really worked, or that there’s any such thing as “orgone.” But Bush’s “Cloudbusting,” and its accompanying music video, portray Reich as a tragic hero, silenced by government authorities who sought to destroy what they couldn’t understand, conflating his work with cloudbusters with his censure by the FDA for his questionable medical devices.

The song was inspired chiefly by the memoirs of Wilhelm Reich’s son, Peter, with Bush explicitly portraying Peter’s naive childhood perspective on his father, and that does allow for some substantial nuance here...but at some point we have to ask ourselves what responsibility an artist has to the truth. “Cloudbusting” is the musical equivalent of a film that’s “based on a true story,” and I see no reason why music can’t be just as capable of spreading misinformation as the Oscar-bait biopics of Hollywood. Just how accurate, or how beautiful, does a work of art need to be, for us to allow a bit of playing loose with the facts for the sake of a great story?

Setting aside these quandaries presented by its subject matter, “Cloudbusting” undoubtedly delivers musically. Across its sprawling runtime, it develops and earns a sense of grandeur, building from its infectious percussion and cresting with Bush’s fragile, but assertive prayer: “I just know that something good is going to happen.” If you listen closely to the percussion tracks on the album, you’ll notice that there’s no cymbal or high-hat utilized anywhere, which helps give the album its particular hazy, meandering ambiance.

That effect is perhaps even more pronounced on the second side of the album. Hounds of Love is divided quite sharply into two sides. The first side, also sub-titled Hounds of Love, opens with “Running Up That Hill,” and finishes with “Cloudbusting,” which serves as something of a bridge between the two, combining a singable hook and a pop-like verse-chorus structure with a taste for more visionary narrative. While the first side is home to all four of the album’s singles, the second side, sub-titled The Ninth Wave, strays much further away from the standard expectations of pop.

Music: “Under Ice”

Going by the tracklisting, there are seven tracks that make up *The Ninth Wave,* though their smooth transitions and willful defiance of verse/chorus structure create a seamless oratorio or song cycle feel, not unlike many of the great “album sides” of the prog tradition. The Ninth Wave also departs from the feel of the first side in its instrumentation. While the Hounds of Love side has its fair share of exotic instruments, such as a balalaika on “Running Up That Hill” and a didgeridoo on “Cloudbusting,” The Ninth Wave is more richly baroque, with elements like that jarring violin on “Under Ice.” As it progresses, the breadth of timbres increases, climaxing in the Celtic-inspired “Jig of Life.”

Music: “Jig of Life”

The explosion of folkish, backward-looking sounds of “Jig of Life” and “Hello World,” with their fiddles, whistles, and full choir, represent its protagonist’s return to the realm of the living, after the trauma represented by earlier tracks like “Under Ice.” The abstract, though affecting, narrative presented by The Ninth Wave seems to be a tale of death and rebirth, with a narrator who drowns themselves, only to be reborn--whether literally revived from a failed suicide attempt, or metaphysically reincarnated after a passage through the realm of the dead.

Much more has been written about the themes of *The Ninth Wave* than I’m getting into here, but suffice it to say that many people consider it the relative highlight of the album. But I think it’s worth questioning that a little bit, and taking the time to look at Hounds of Love a bit more holistically. Just because the first side is a bit less overtly experimental doesn’t mean it doesn’t have just as much to offer, artistically, or that it isn’t a part of what makes this album truly great. At the end of the day, I think we can probably agree that far fewer people would have ever heard The Ninth Wave if it weren’t for those more accessible singles on side one, moving copies of the record and adding to Bush’s widespread acclaim. Without “Running Up That Hill,” Hounds of Love might have gone down in history as a fairly niche cult classic like The Dreaming, instead of the era-defining album that it got to become.

On the cover of Hounds of Love, we see an image of Bush reclining and embracing two dogs--who were, in fact, her own pets. The image’s saturation in purplish pink and Bush’s perhaps sultry expression combine to create an impression of traditional femininity, which resonates with the album’s themes of gender and sensuality. Framed in by large white borders, we might read the composition of the cover as evocative of a personal locket or memento, a sort of furtive glimpse into Bush’s more private or intimate essence, fitting for the introspective and emotional focus of much of the music. This “framing” is perhaps also evocative of the idea of the domestic sphere of life--and hence, again, of femininity.

While the title track of the album portrays the “hounds of love” as figures of menace, who are said to “chase” after its narrator, the submissive and comfortable-looking canines portrayed in the cover art seem like a foil to that idea. In the history of European art, dogs are often used as symbols of fidelity, particularly in the context of romance. Titian’s Venus of Urbino, painted in the 1530s, is often considered the progenitor of the Western “nude” as an archetype. Alongside the titular goddess, paragon of eroticism and the feminine, the painter has also included a lapdog, peacefully dozing beside her. It’s tempting to see the composition of the cover of Hounds of Love as doing something similar, invoking confident sensuality alongside a symbol of faithfulness to portray the essence of idealized love.

After the release of Hounds of Love, Bush would once again take several years to produce her next LP, 1989’s The Sensual World. More closely related to The Ninth Wave than the A-side of Hounds of Love, it was nonetheless another commercial and mainstream success for the artist.

Music: “The Sensual World”

From the mid-90s to the mid-00s, Bush took an extended hiatus from music, focusing instead on her family and her personal life. Despite uncertainty surrounding the future of her career, she would eventually return to the public spotlight in the 21st Century, and remains active, if somewhat intermittently, to the present day. At this point, it’s safe to say that Bush has a fairly enviable position, having lived long enough to become a cultural institution, and able to bask in the cult following her unmistakable and distinctive work has earned her. For as much as I’ve praised the more commercial side of Hounds of Love in this piece, I still believe in the power of the truly unfettered creative soul, and I’m still happy for Bush that she’s achieved that kind of freedom.

My favourite track from either side of Hounds of Love would have to be “The Big Sky.” In the context of the album, it stands out for its rousing, triumphant crescendo of energy--a marked difference from the languid, introspective sensibility that dominates most of the material. And it manages that without bringing the cymbals back, either! Thematically, its emphasis on weather and the sky prefigures that of “Cloudbusting,” perhaps providing a more hopeful and naive vision of what weather can do, which resists being “clouded” by political drama. That’s all I have for today--as always, thank you all for listening!

Music: “The Big Sky”

[levelstory]

Music Reflection II, Early 2000s' was a Trip

Well, it has been a hot minute since I wrote a music reflection post. Last time, I talked about various songs from my childhood from the likes of Britney Spears to Stevie Brock. Now I am back to tackle some more music from my most formative years that will make you question how my music taste ever escaped cringy pop music from the Top 40. Coincidentally, all of these tracks are from the early 2000s’ so no 90s’ music here today. Here we go…

Miracles Happen by Myra

This song is the anthem ofThe Princess Diaries. That movie was one of my most watched VHS tapes next to the first Harry Potter film. It is the movie that sparked my interest in film soundtracks, and one of the most recognizable and memorable songs from the album was easily Myra's Miracles Happen. 

It can be easy to forget how much work was once put into acquiring music in an age where most music is available instantaneously. As a kid, my ear was always turned toward the music in any given film and when I got to an age (around 9-10) when I realized these tracks were sold in one package known as the film soundtrack, I made a point to get my hands on a copy. The Princess Diaries is the first soundtrack I remember owning outside of soundtracks from Disney films. 

My most stark memories with this soundtrack are playing it in my bedroom at my old house. Toward the end of our time living there, my family painted my bedroom a light pink and I got a desk that had a CD rack built-in (this was a big feature at the time). My boombox sat on the large desktop against the wall and I can remember listening to The Princess Diaries soundtrack on repeat. There are a lot of great tracks on the album but Miracles Happen is the true star and the true representation of the movie. 

Before I talk about the track further, I just want to point out that this movie is great. We could talk about its problems, which it has many, but it remains funny, heartwarming, and a joy to watch from start to finish. This movie introduced me to Anne Hathaway and she just shines. Plus, Julie Andrews is in the movie and she steals the show! I know my opinion is partially influenced by nostalgia goggles but hey...just let me have this!

Back to Miracles Happen. What is easily the strongest aspect of the song is the chorus. It is so catchy and fun to listen to. The verses are enjoyable enough, but they feel a bit detached from what makes the song so good. The bridge is pretty lackluster. As discussed a bit in my first reflection, way too many songs struggle with their bridges. Look, I get it...but still. The only shining light is that the bridge at least transitions into a tune that sounds similar to the chorus which is pretty great. 

The lyrics are fairly generic which is par for the course. They say a bunch of random things like "we found the missing pieces" and "nothing should ever bring you down", lyrics that have little to no emotional attachment to anything beyond it is a thing people say in this context. But all things considered, it is still a really fun song to listen to.

It Happens Every Time by Dream Street

Dream Street is one of those boy bands that flew pretty far beneath the radar for most people. Their first album released in 2000 and I distinctly remember the marketing campaign on television playing over and over again so that they were drilled into our brains. I guess it worked because I really wanted this album as a ten-year-old.

My friends and I loved Dream Street. I had their poster hanging on my bedroom wall (their album booklet unfolded into the poster). We made up dance routines to their songs. We even blasted the music through my friend’s house and somehow her parents never became angry with us. My most shameful confession about Dream Street is that we used to try and find their phone numbers to call them. Unaware that phone books are limited to local numbers, we would call random numbers to see if Chris or Jesse were home to talk. They weren't, and people were annoyed by our calls. 

One thing people probably don't know is that Jesse McCartney's music career began with Dream Street. I'm proud to say that he was my favorite from the group at the time, and vocally he is the strongest of the group. His voice had not matured yet so it is always fun listening to his performance with his young voice!

It Happens Every Time was their big single and the song most used in TV adverts, accompanied by the music video. What got me thinking about the song and the group recently is due to some unfortunate events. I learned back in July that one of the members, Chris, died in June due to complications with COVID-19. He would have been 35 this year. Chris was often looked at as the Justin Timberlake of Dream Street. He had the fancy frost tipped hair and swagger to him that the other members couldn't compete with. After the group disbanded, he never found success in the same way he did with Dream Street. He died too young and too soon. After his death, I started relistening to Dream Street and it was this relisten that encouraged me to write another Music Reflection. 

As with Stevie Brock from the first installment of Music Reflections, Dream Street's songs mostly center on their lust for girls in a way that is pretty uncomfortable looking back. These boys range in age from 11-13 if I am not mistaken, and their songs deal with mature themes that predate their young years. Not to mention that society has young boys singing about these ideas that they can't help their actions when they lust for a girl or they can't control themselves because a girl has them wrapped around her finger. Our culture normalizes this idea that men are vulnerable to female woes and that they can't help themselves. It is always a bit gross hearing young boys sing about it, especially before they’ve even hit puberty (i.e. Justin Bieber).*

It Happens Every Time is a song about...a song. It follows a boy who hears a "silly little love song" every time he sees this girl or thinks of her. This plane of existence, a magic place where angels sing all around them, is known as Dream Street (name drop!). Admittedly, this song is probably the tamest when it comes to the themes I mentioned in the previous paragraph. 

Now I won't lie, this song is a bop. I'm still unsure if that is the nostalgia talking or not...I will have to dig deeper some other time. But damn I'd be lying if I said I don't enjoy this song. It is so catchy. The boys sing really well for their age. I am a sucker for listening to little Jesse McCartney belt his heart out. Jesse is the highlight of this song, getting a nice solo line toward the end of the second chorus followed by the entire bridge and some overlapping vocals in the final chorus before ending the song. He just sounds so good and I will admit to feeling a small sense of pride listening to him. I was there before his solo career and entry into Radio Disney hits and commercials all over ABC Family. Sometimes it feels like Dream Street is still so unknown that I can keep my memories of them all to myself. Though their time was short-lived, they stayed with me and so has this song.

Ordinary Day by Vanessa Carlton

Earlier, I talked about how difficult it was to acquire music before the internet. In the case of a song in a movie, there was a good chance that the song you liked would be on the soundtrack, provided a soundtrack was even released. Songs on the radio were difficult because you had to buy an entire album when you just liked one song, or make sure you had a blank tape ready to record when the song came on. Then there were songs you heard while out and about with no context. Those were the worst because you had to try and memorize the song and hope you found it somewhere, someday. That was kind of what happened to me with Vanessa Carlton.

It was her song A Thousand Miles that really gripped me as a 12-year-old. I loved it so much and heard it everywhere I went but never knew who sang the song or where I could get a copy. Eventually, I heard the song on the radio and bought her album...and ended up only listening to the three tracks I liked. One of the tracks, and my favorite of those three, is Ordinary Day. 

If my memory is correct, this song was never as popular as A Thousand Miles on the radio, but it was super popular on the internet. This album came out around the time I first started using the internet and discovered movie montages. I don't mean montages used in movies but montages made by fans on Windows Movie Maker, cut together with a somewhat fitting song. If you were a teenager obsessing over Disney or Harry Potter or...something, you know the songs that people generally gravitated towards with these videos (the band Trading Yesterday were a staple of these montages). Ordinary Day was a movie montage song (every time I listen to this song it reminds me of an Aladdin montage it played over (which I sadly can't find)). 

I decided to watch the music video for this song as I was writing this and boy is it a product of the early 2000s. Can we all just agree that the early 2000s were equivalent to that awkward stage of everyone's lives that we try not to think about? This music video is so clumsy and confusing. There are so many close up shots on Carlton and strange shots of people making out. Who thought this was a good idea?

But back to the song. One thing I appreciate about this song is how it builds itself up. The beginning piano is very nice but then it builds up with orchestration and I love it. I'm sorry I can't talk about it more but I won't embarrass myself with lack of musical instrumental lingo and knowledge.

The lyrics of the song are...ehh? The song is basically about seeing more in the ordinary and how the narrator is shown from an "ordinary boy." It isn't terrible but like the music video, a product of the early 2000s. 

I unapologetically love this song. Yes it is corny and it isn't as musically sophisticated as I would like, but it always makes me smile when I listen to it. I can remember listening to the song on my headphones on long car rides and with friends. It is just a song that makes me feel happy and gives me no reason to feel otherwise. 

All I Can Do by Jump5

Well...I'm surprised it took me this long to arrive at Jump5. What is there to say about this Christian pop sensation? Quite a bit actually. I was only obsessed with them for a good chunk of my early teens. Reflecting on that time of my life is strange because in hindsight, it was such a short period but it always feels like it lasted much longer. 

Everyone has that one band that they really connect with as a teenager that basically shapes their entire life and...well, yeah, that band for me is Jump5. I'm not kidding, I could write an entire book about how this band shaped my entire life (and believe me, I am working on it!). As much as I'd like to talk about all of that, we only have a short amount of time so let's talk about this song. 

As with Ordinary Day, this song reeks of the early 2000s. However, unlike Ordinary Day, the music video is much more successful in its execution. I couldn't believe myself when rewatching it...it is actually pretty darn good as far as music videos tend to be. 

Choosing what Jump5 song to talk about was pretty difficult because there are so many in their arsenal that I can talk about for long periods of time and connect to life experiences. But All I Can Do seems to be a special one because I'm almost certain it was the first track I ever heard from the group. As with Dream Street, Jump5 had a big TV marketing campaign for their second album, All the Time in the World (in which All I Can Do is the first track). It was their TV advert that put them on the radar for me. I vividly remember seeing the commercial at Christmas time. It was the first Christmas spent at our new house and I can remember watching the TV with my gifts and snow falling outside. At this point, seeing pop bands advertised on TV was nothing new. There were always new groups trying to make it big as other pop acts had before them. But other than my memory of seeing this commercial, it otherwise didn't leave a big impact on me. I wouldn't start listening to Jump5 until a few months later after getting into Radio Disney. And even after I got into Jump5, All I Can Do was never one of their songs that I gravitated towards. 

I wanted to talk about this song because of how well it represents Jump5 as a group. All I Can Do is their quintessential track, packed with energy and fun lyrics. But the track is also a representation of the group's core aesthetic of disguising "Christian values" as a pop song about a crush. For anyone who grew up on a Christian media diet (as I did voluntarily as a teenager), this is nothing out of the ordinary for this type of entertainment. In fact, it is basically a meme at this point. All I Can Do may be the least overt example of this from Jump5's library, but it is still an example nonetheless.

“It's like I got nothing to do but think about you,” (you being God), "I've got all the time in the world," (implying that time does not matter because in God you have everlasting life), "if you look at my heart, you'll know from the start," (meaning God knows your true heart and He knows from the start). I could go on but I think you see my point. There isn't anything inherently bad about this example and it is fairly harmless, but this isn't always the case when it comes to Christian entertainment.

Another trend from the late 90s' and early 2000s' was a pop group being a mix of both guys and girls but the guys rarely sang (A*Teens is another example that might come to mind). This song is dominated by the girls who share most of the song equally. The guys are hardly ever heard at all except when Chris gets his time to shine echoing the song's title over and over. It is easy to forget about them but alas, they are there.

Jump5 were known for their dance routines that they performed alongside their songs. They would often do cartwheels, flips, and very technical dance routines that blew many other pop acts out of the water. They also performed these routines live on tour, not just in their music videos. This dance routine is a really memorable one, showing the group doing a train-like dance which I remember performing with a friend. It is a lot of fun and I won't let anyone tell me otherwise! It was a lot of fun revisiting this track.

Is It Saturday Yet? by Nick Carter

Well here we are, at the final song, and boy is this choice...let's go with interesting. Nick Carter, known for his Backstreet Boy fame, recorded his own solo album after the group disbanded. What we got was Now or Never which is only ever remembered by the song Help Me, and even that is pretty forgettable. All that said, I owned this album and listened to it quite a bit as a tween. My most specific memory with the album is listening to it on a long car ride to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Is It Saturday Yet? is the seventh track on the album and out of the five tracks I liked, this was probably at the bottom. 

So why talk about it if it was my least favorite track? Well friends, this track is so bizarre that I question its existence on a frequent basis. It is insane how often this song gets stuck in my head and won't leave. 

The song seems to be about a disengaged teenager being raised by Jerry Springer and video games (video games got a low blow for warping kids brains back in the day. They still get blamed today but it isn't to the same extent) who just can't wait for Saturday to come so he can be rid of his responsibilities. The lyrics are...dumb. They are clearly trying to make a point but the song is so ridiculous that it is white noise. And why is it that Nick and Aaron Carter always have to reference each other in their songs? It was cute at first when Aaron did it in his classic track Oh Aaron, but now it is just old. 

"Is it Saturday yet? Cause I wanna get up. Is it Saturday yet? It just feels like a Saturday. Maybe it's a Saturday." Those are the lyrics in the chorus. It is a song so devoid of meaning and so lazy to its very core. It contains lazy rhymes and brutal instrumentals. This song is the reason so many people describe pop music as empty trash. Like, don't get me wrong, a lot of music on the radio is pop trash and is clearly put together by big corporate higher-ups to make a quick buck on teenage stars locked in a contract. But some of that music is meaningful and deserves to be recognized. This song, however, deserves to die a painful death. It is just terrible. 

And yet, despite all of this, the song somehow still appeals to me. I still listen to it. I still find joy out of it even though it is just awful in every possible way. I think that speaks to the whole point of these reflections on the music I listened to when I was younger. 

Is It Saturday Yet? may be the worst of the bunch, but a lot of music cranked out back in the day was mindless entertainment. As much as it bothers me, I won't lie and say there is no place for music like this because there is. Sometimes when I am driving, I get so sick of the music I normally listen to ("good" music) and I just want music from my childhood that won't make me think but will just allow me to bake in nostalgic goodness. 

Revisiting these songs was fun, but I know there are more I want to talk about in the future! Stay tuned! What are some songs you listened to in the early 2000s’ that make you feel super nostalgic today? Let me know in the comments!

* It should also be noted that the band broke up because of a lawsuit in which the majority of the parents of the band alleged that the underage band members were "exposed to booze, women, and pornography."

[myamoonie]

Found in my notes:

Character’s full name: Miao/avaricious hands/Greed

Reason or Meaning behind name: that’s what she is

Characters nick name: Meow!, Ava

Reason for nickname: that’s what her name sounds like and she hates it

Birthdate: 8/15

Physical Appearance: she has sharp eyes that look like they’re starring into your soul she always has loads of jewelry on, the expensive icey ones too

Sinner Weapon: Grab

How it works: she can pull anything towards her, physically or emotionally

Age: 200+

Age she appears: 24

Weight: 122 lb

Height: 5’3 (usually wears heels)

Body build: large chested and has an hourglass shape

Shape of face: skinny, she usually has makeup on

Eye color: purple

Glasses or contacts: none

Skin tone: tan (lmao like seven type tan)

Distinguishing marks: she has a small tattoo on her back with a G on it

Predominant features: her eyelashes are very pretty

Hobbies: looking at stock levels

Plays instruments: she can sing lmao

Plays sports: did ballet once

How she’d spend a rainy day: online shopping

Spending habits: Gucci, Prada, channel, etc. stuff to flex on people with

Smokes: sometimes

Drinks: sometimes

Other:

What does she do too much of: spend money and sugar babying

What does she do to little of: give people money

Extremely skilled at: math and writing things/typing

Extremely unskilled at: electronics

Nervous tics: she tears up

Usual body posture: she stands straight and confidently

Mannerisms: shes really proper over the phone (text) But is incredibly animated around others

Peculiarities: has really long hair but it stays up in a bun n is naturally curly

Family: her siblings,

Mother:

father:

Relationship description: she doesn’t get along well with Ava since he likes to ask her specifically for money

Siblings:

Sponse: her sugar daddies

Children: actually has had some in her other life times

Important family members: she babies List, and enjoys talking with pride

Favorite color: Green

Least favorite: yellow

Music: classical

Food: anything expensive

Literature: classics

Form of entertainment: museums

Expression: she sings her woes away

Mode of transportation: limo, anything not driven by her

Most prized possession: her hands lmao

[spiltscribbles]

All The Lights Are Sparkling For You  |  Part I

~*~

“So a sixteen ounce almond latte with a pump of lavender and honey?” The barista chortles, flipping her pretty ginger hair and batting her lashes.

“Precisely gorgeous,” Kit says with a smile that makes her flush. 

“Cool, that’ll be right up.”

“Brilliant!” Kit gives two quick wraps of his knuckles against the countertop before pivoting around and sliding into the seat across from Ty, pretending as if his chest doesn’t seize at the sight of his insanely intense sea glass eyes and the pedal soft curve of his cheek.

“She likes you,” he says in that stripped down way of his before taking a bite of his sub, a bit of mayo getting on his cupids bow, and thanking Kit when he passes over a napkin.

“You flatter me Tiberius,” Kit snorts before snatching the other half and eating it himself, only partially curious of how much it might look like a date from the outside, and entirely ignoring how much he wouldn’t mind if it was.

“Everyone likes you,” Ty shrugs, blasé.

“They tell me it’s the smile.”

That makes it so Ty lets out a breathy, little laugh, and Kit can’t help but liken it to the most beautiful instrument. He’s always so proud whenever he can make it so Ty’s eyes go incandescent and there’s the slightest dimple right on the apple of his cheek, when Ty looks effortlessly beautiful and happy to be here.

Kit knows that this sleepy Oregon town on the coast is as far away from LA— where Ty was brought up— as anything could be. He knows that Ty choosing to go here for University was a way for him to strike out on his own, apart from the huge Blackthorn clan that Kit’s only ever seen pictures of, but has been exceedingly jealous of ever since. Kit knows that Ty has never really fit into his own skin here, that if it wasn’t for Kit’s constant insistence that they spend days on days together at the start of their freshman year that Ty would’ve been perfectly content keeping to hisself for the four years he’s here until he could go back home. But still, Kit also knows that they were meant to be in each others lives, in some major capacity.

He thinks back to his mother— her pale gold hair and the twinkle in her eyes— She use to always croon that the stars were set out for us, that kismet and providence would lead us to the people we’re meant to be. Kit was a little boy then, one who was to busy making a ruckus wherever he went to spare any of his time to understanding what she meant with those sort of proclamations. Even now, so many years divorced from her death, Kit doesn’t think any of his decisions were chosen before he ever knew the options, but a small part of him does like the idea that some peoples stars were lined up in the exact right breath that they were destined to cross paths and to create an entirely knew one for just the pair of them. One that was glowing and glimmering and perfect.

Kit’s sure that Ty’s one of those people— maybe the only person save for Tessa and Jem— And if he could make Ty even slightly happier than he was, then Kit considers it a job well done.

“Order up,” the barista from before chimes as she slides across the coffee and a slice of the lemon loaf. “On the house handsome,” she winks before strutting back to her post.

“I’ll take that,” Ty says before plucking the dessert from Kit’s non suspecting hand.

“Rude.”

“Life can be like that,” Ty just reasons before picking up his chirping phone, face grimacing at the sight of the text.

“Everything’s okay?” Kit asks, tentative.

“’s just Livvy.”

Kit can feel his face scrunch up in confusion. Every time Ty even alludes to his twin sister— a pixie sized, beautiful brunette with eyes that are a mirror of Ty’s own— he’s only ever beaming with light and glee and it’s probably the only times Kit looks at Ty and he seems totally whole.

“Is she alright?”

“Wonderful.” Ty intones, tossing the device to the side and sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, delicate hands beginning to tap and flutter around the table in a nervous sort of tension.

Kit’s becoming even more nervous than before.

“Don’t leave me in suspense Tiberius, what’s going on?”

“Nothing… Erm ah, nothing really.” Kit levels him with his patented are you shitting me grimace. “It’s just, my older brother…”

“Mark or Julian?”

“Julian, he’s getting married.” The locomotive sized weight on Kit’s chest suddenly dissipated and he swats Ty on the forearm.

“Hey! What’s with the frown you ass! That’s great news! It’s with that pretty blonde right? Emma?”

Ty nods, still impossibly glum looking.

“Ok Tiberius, I’m really confused to the whole woe with me thing you’ve got going on right now.”

“Livvy’s designated herself the head wedding planner.”

“Alright… and the problem?”

“I just know that Dru’s bringing her boyfriend Jamie, and Helen’s bringing her wife Aline, and of course Mark’s got his Kieran and Christina-“

“Okay man, i’m seriously not following any of this but we’re going back to the bit where Mark’s got two partners apparently? Which I personally find unfair and a bit elitist.”

Ty ignores him and just continues rattling off these names that Kit only slightly recognizes.

“Magnus and Alec are gonna be there and like just stand around being better than everyone! And Jace and Clary! Definitely Isabell and Simon too!”

“Am I having a stroke? Ty as my best friend you’re obligated to tell me if I’m having a stroke.”

“You know this’s all just a big ploy by Livvy, right?” Ty charges, mouth curled.

“This wedding… The one between your brother Julian and his long time girlfriend Emma, is a ploy? A ploy by Livvy?”

“She’s worried about me! She’s always worried about me! She thinks that I’m sequestering myself here, was mad when I came home over the summer and told her I hadn’t gone out with anyone all year.”

Kit spreads out his hands, very narrowly misses toppling over his drink. “Sisters am I right?… Actually am I right, I was an only child growing up and Nian has only just begun learning her shapes so I doubt she’d be much of a comparison.”

Ty’s expression goes very, very flat.

“You’re so ridiculous.”

“And you’re so serious.”

“Look, I know Livvy, okay. This’s just part of her grand plan to finally pair me up with someone!”

“A grand plan… Kit repeats, slow and confused.

“She’s worried about me, she thinks that everyone needs like a boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever to be happy.”

“I see.”

“She’s gonna try and pair me up with like somebody I don’t even know for the entire wedding! Like some way worse version of a blind date. Just you watch!”

“Aren’t weddings like only a few hours?”

“Not in Blackthorn standards,” Ty bristles, begins to spin his phone with the pop socket Kit had gotten him a couple weeks ago because it had his initials and it was a cheap version of getting something actually monogrammed, which in all his dorkitude Ty actually loves to have, has got all his pencils imprinted with his first and last names, and middle initial. It’d all be infuriating if it wasn’t so cute.

“Yo man I’m sorry, but Livvy’s got your best interest at heart, you know that.”

“I know,” Ty sighs, runs a hand through his dark hair . “I just wish she didn’t feel like responsible for me all the time.”

Kit purses his lip in discomfort, suddenly feels an intense kinship with Ty’s twin whom he’s never met. He’d like to tell Ty that it’s not a feeling of responsibility but a gesture of love. She wants to make sure he’s taken care of because her heart wouldn’t feel complete if she wasn’t doing that. Kit wants to tell him it’s not because he’s a weight on her shoulders but because he’s the first person to look at him and make Kit feel like he’s being seen. The first person to touch him softly instead of automatically assuming he’s been cut from metal and steel and brimstone. The first person to have caught and effortlessly kept Kit’s attention, the only one who’s ever made it so Kit’s skin feels like it’s been lit on fire with every surreptitious glance.

Oh, erm— Ah, but that’s all completely from livvi’s hypothetic perspective, not from Kit’s. Not at all, not even slightly.

“Mmm,” Kit clears his throat, trying to clear his head of all those sorts of thoughts, less he risk the best friendship he’s ever known. “Well Livvy obviously just wants to make sure you’re happy, I bet if you just told her that you’ve already found a date for the wedding she won’t bother to try and play matchmaker.”

Kit’s taken aback when he sees an all too familiar gleam in Ty’s gorgeous eyes and his head popping up in sudden, acute excitement.

“Yes! Brilliant! Totally! Watson you’re a genius!”

Kit can’t help but preen, feels a warmth coiling deep inside him at the sparks Ty’s quite literally radiating.

“I’m glad you’ve finally came to the light Tiberius.”

“You’ll come then?”

“Oh, ah, what?”

“To the wedding! You’ll pretend to be my date, in a romantic sense I mean.”

“Ahh,” Kit feels like he’s been succor punched, is especially confused to this parody of what he’s been privately wishing to hear for over a year now. “Run that by me again?”

“you’re a genius!” Ty crows, fists clenched and smile bright. “It’s not even that large of a leap! You’re the only person I tell them about and I bet if I tell her now that we’ve begun dating she wouldn’t even prod when I bring you to the wedding in January!”

Kit still feels very much so out of the loop.

“THey’d probably want you to spend Christmas with us too, would that be alright with you? You guys don’t really celebrate right? Jem’s a Buddhist and you said Tessa is atheist right?”

“Ah… yeah?”

“Oh awesome! I’ll call her and tell her now!” Ty leaps out of his chair, gathers Kit in for a tight hug before scurrying off to a quieter corner of the union to chat with Livvy.

“Wait, what just happened?” is all Kit can manage out, blinking owlish in Ty’s wake.

[snarkybluechristian]

Hazbin Hotel: Yandere Alastor x Vaggie Chapter 9

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Meanwhile, Rosie had Vaggie bathed and cleaned up before she brought her to meet Alastor in one of his ballrooms wearing a traditional El Salvadoran blue and white dress, sandals, and a traditional braid tied with her pink ribbon.

Vaggie examined the room once Rosie left her side.  It was a large room that looked like an old jazz club.  The stage was surrounded by long red curtains.  There was a dance floor.  There were tables surrounding the stage.  All of it was tinted in red and black.

Suddenly, Vaggie's nose caught a familiar smell.  It smelled like the breakfast her mother used to make, but it couldn't be.  Could it?

Vaggie followed her nose until she spotted the table next to the stage with plates of pupusas, tomato salsa, ensalada drinks, plantains, and a pitcher of horchata with glasses to serve the drinks in along with all the right silverware and napkins that matched the room's decor.

Vaggie couldn't believe her eyes.  She almost wanted to cry.

“Come over and have some breakfast, Vaggie darling,” Rosie said from her seat at the table.

“Oh, Rosie, you don’t need to stay,” Alastor said from his spot at the table.  “I know how eager you've been to play with your new toy again…”

“Oh, thank you, Alastor,” Rosie said before bolting out of her chair and dashing out of the room before Vaggie even had time to blink.

Vaggie took her seat and didn’t waste any time.  

“What the hell are you planning for Angel?!” Vaggie asked angrily.

“I only intend to give him to the highest bidder,” Alastor said.  “I don't want to keep him around.”

“What?!” Vaggie asked incredulously.

“He’ll only ruin the fun,” Alastor said dismissively.  “But no more talk of that now.  Go on.  Eat.”

Vaggie glared at Alastor for a moment before reluctantly picking up her fork.  

Alastor stared at Vaggie contentedly as she took her first bite of plaintains.

Vaggie swallowed her bite and paused in wonder.  

The food tasted just the way her mother used to make it down to the spices and texture.

Vaggie eyed Alastor suspiciously and asked, “How did you do this?”

“I asked my chefs to look into El Salvadoran cooking,” Alastor responded nonchalantly.

“I see,” Vaggie replied.  

“How do you like it?” Alastor asked.  

“It’s passable,” Vaggie said coldly.  

“Passable?!” Alastor exclaimed dramatically leaning backwards in his chair.  “Oh, my love, why must you be so cold to me?!”

“Because I hate you,” Vaggie replied before going back to eating her food.

Alastor shrank back in shock and picked up his staff.  He stood up at his seat and suddenly had a spotlight shining on him out of nowhere.

“Oh, woe is me!” Alastor exclaimed.  “Woe is me!  What can a man do when the woman he loves holds him in such utter contempt?”

“Let her go?” Vaggie suggested.  

“Alas,” Alastor replied.  “That is no option.”

Vaggie rolled her eyes as the lights dimmed and Alastor hopped on stage.  

“I’ll just have to keep serenading you,” Alastor said.  “Want to come on stage and sing and dance with me?”

“No,” Vaggie replied.  

“Then let me perform for you,” Alastor said as an old-fashioned microphone with its stand came up through the stage.  

Alastor stomped his staff on the ground, and his familiars emerged with instruments to perform the overture of an old-timey jazz ballad.

When the overture was over, Alastor sang, “I've been running in circles while playing a game of pretending, I didn't realize I was wise, what love could do; Now I'm facing a future that hasn't that one happy ending, And I'm a fool, I guess, to confess it all to you.  I never knew I could love anybody, Honey, like I'm lovin' you.  I didn't realize What a pair of eyes and a baby smile could do.  I can't sleep, I can't eat, I never knew a single soul could be so sweet, For I never knew I could love anybody, Honey, like I'm lovin' you!”

Vaggie rolled her eyes at Alastor’s song as a group of tapdancing familiars came up behind Alastor.  He began tap dancing with them to a loud jazz ensemble much to Vaggie’s chagrin.

Alastor was completely absorbed in his dancing, so much so that Vaggie realized he wasn’t paying any attention to her.

Vaggie took the opportunity to pile her plate high with food and silently make her way back to the basement where Angel was sitting on his bed alone in his cell.

“Vaggie?!” Angel asked as she sat down on the ground and laid the plate of food in front of her.  “How’d you get back here?  Where’s Alastor?”

“Alastor is singing a musical number to try and win my affection,” Vaggie said clearly showing her displeasure through her voice.  

Angel cackled and said, “Oh, God.  He’s such a ham!”

Angel then winced in pain.  That wasn’t lost on Vaggie.  

“What happened?” Vaggie asked.  “What did Rosie do to you?  Where is she?”

Angel got off the bed and sat down in front of the bars before responding, “Ah, she didn’t do much to me.  I’m fine.”

“I brought you food,” Vaggie said gesturing to the plate.

“Thanks, babe,” Angel said before he began stuffing his face.

“Where did Rosie go?” Vaggie asked again.  “I need to know how much time I have to bust you out.”

“She went to powder her nose,” Angel said before swallowing his food.  “But you know that won’t work.  Alastor’s too good at what he does.”

“What choice do I have?” Vaggie asked while Angel continued eating.  “I’m not going to be his wife.  I don’t know what else to do.”

Angel paused from his eating and said, “You could just do what he says.”

“What?” Vaggie asked incredulously.

“I mean pretend to go along with what he says,” Angel replied.  

Vaggie suddenly understood.  

She smirked and said, “Oh, I get it.  Then wait for an opportunity to escape.”

“Exactly,” Angel said taking another bite of food.  

Vaggie’s smile disappeared.

“But I have to pretend to like Alastor,” Vaggie said sadly.  “I don’t know if I can suck up to him.  He disgusts me.”

“Of course, you can,” Angel said.  “You know how I know?  You were a slut just like me.  And if there’s anything a slut knows, it’s how to keep a man biting for more.”

Vaggie snorted out loud in laughter.  

Angel smiled and scarfed down the rest of the food.  

“What about you?” Vaggie finally asked.  

“Babe, I’ve survived much worse than this,” Angel said.  “I’ll be fine.  He ain’t interested in me.  The one he’s after is you.  Don’t worry about me.”

Vaggie smiled warmly and said, “So, you really did come just to save me.  I never knew you cared that much.”

“What can I say, Vaggie?  I couldn’t let you have all this fun by yourself,” Angel said with a wink.

Vaggie crawled closer to the bars, reached her arms through them, and gave Angel a hug.  

Angel hugged her back with his four arms.

“Go get him, moth,” Angel said.  “Try to get him to go out in public if you can.  Okay?”

“Okay,” Vaggie said slowly nodding as she let Angel go, picked up the plate, and stood up.

Then without another word, Vaggie turned around and headed back to the jazz club lounge.