#too late for the black plague too early for the black parade ����

[egophiliac]

can't believe that skeleman has turned on us, and Halloween Prom is tomorrow.

(what a top-tier UM...we are about to be just totally obliterated in the absolute silliest way. what possible use could this power have outside of bringing us to the brink of utter holiday disaster.)

[kickdownthewalls]

TOP 20 METAL/HARD ROCK ALBUMS OF 2023

Hey, it is Dan here from The Plague. Let me start with apologies for the lateness of posting this, but I have been using my YouTube platform to highlight my top albums for the past few years. If you are curious, you can check out my top albums for 2022 and 2021. This year, I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to decide if I wanted to continue the channel and eventually decided to put it to rest. But I did want to post this list somewhere to do what I can to help promote these amazing bands and albums, so I decided to get back to my roots here on tumblr. Anyway, enough rambling, let me jump into my top hard rock and metal albums for 2023. Of course, these are just the ones that I have heard and have resonated with me the most, so your mileage may vary. My tastes in recent years has skewed toward the traditional heavy metal revival, but there a few here that fall outside those boundaries, too. Let’s kick it off with #20…

20. WITCHTOWER – Voyeur

Almost missed this one even though it was released back in March of 2023. I’ve been a fan of this Spanish four-piece for a while now and this one is very much in the same vein as previous releases, combining a mature brand of classic heavy metal with some speedy moments and that touch of Mercyful Fate that bands like In Solitude and Portrait explored in the early 2000s. Some really great and effective bass playing here, too.

 19. GIRLSCHOOL – WTFortyfive?

This one I almost didn’t bother to listen to, given the rather awkward, terrible album title, but glad I gave it a chance. Girlschool have definitely become heavier on recent albums, but they retain their solid, melodic songwriting chops and the trademark gang vocals on the choruses. I really enjoyed the variety of songs, from dark-edged metal to punky hard rock to power pop. Some of the lyrics are cringey (mainly “Bump in the Night”) but others are quite good, like “It’s a Mess” and “It Is What It Is.”

 18. ENFORCER – Nostalgia

Sweden’s purveyors of classic heavy metal with a touch of speed metal are back with their sixth album. While some were put off by the overly commercial sound on 2019’s Zenith, it is nice to hear Enforcer pretty much back on track with Nostalgia. “Coming Alive” and “Metal Supremacia” have all the fire and energy of the band’s early work, while the arena-rock elements still come through on tracks like “Unshackle Me” and “Heartbeats,” which reminds me of Def Leppard before they lost it.

 17. HIGH SPIRITS – Safe on the Other Side

Fifth album from Chicago mastermind Chris Black, who has also given us the likes of Superchrist, Pharaoh, Aktor, and Dawnbringer, among others. Another classic set of tunes that bridge the gap between hard rock and old-school heavy metal, always with a positive vibe underlying things. Not quite as memorable or heavy as 2020’s Hard to Stop and I don’t think they will ever top my absolute fave High Spirits album, Motivator, but even given that, this is an excellent album and easily one of 2023’s top 20.

 16. BURNING WITCHES – The Dark Tower

Another fifth album, this time from a Swiss five-piece, this is my favorite Burning Witches album yet. Their previous albums have been solid but usually only had one or two really memorable songs, whereas this time at least half the songs made an immediate impact and others have been growing on me. I like that they play traditional, powerful heavy metal but with a modern feel and production, much like bands like Primal Fear or Dream Evil.

 15. CIRITH UNGOL – Dark Parade

I remember coming to Cirith Ungol rather late, as they often got a bad name in the press back in the day, but when One Foot in Hell came out, the cover art was just too cool to resist and I immediately fell in love with their unique take on epic heavy metal. I was so happy to see the band reunite and still deliver that classic sound. 2020’s Forever Black was good but lacked a bit in the production department, so I am happy to say that Dark Parade sounds lot fuller and more organic, plus the songs are more memorable. If this is indeed the band’s last album, they are going out on a high note, no doubt about it.

 14. TANITH – Voyage

Another band that has a pretty unique take on classic heavy metal and hard rock. They write really good, fairly complex tunes with elements of 70s-era Scorpions and UFO, but with dueling male and female lead vocals. Both singers are excellent in their own right but they also combine their voices quite often for an even greater effect. Been following these guys since being blown away by their performance at Frost & Fire IV back in 2018 and they have yet to disappoint.

 13. OBITUARY – Dying of Everything

Always my favorite of the Florida death metal bands, it is exciting to see the band really firing on all cylinders with their past couple records. This one might be my favorite since the classic Cause of Death, with some of the band’s most memorable tunes and the perfect production to showcase the band’s raw, pounding style.

 12. THE HAXANS – The Dead and the Restless

This is one of two albums in my top 20 that is decidedly not metal, but still rocks pretty hard. The Haxans are a project by Piggy D. of Wednesday 13 and Rob Zombie fame along with vocalist Ash Costello from New Years Day and they play a really cool mix of horror punk and goth rock. Although I wasn’t as consistently engaged with this one as I was with their Party Monsters debut, it features the same elements that made that one so enjoyable. They mix catchy vocal lines with stompy riffs really well and pull off serious, atmospheric tunes just as well as the more fun, tongue-in-cheek tracks.

 11. IMMORTAL – War Against All

Despite all the drama behind the scenes and line-up changes, Immortal has somehow managed to maintain a pretty steady stream of quality albums and even though it is now just a one-man project of Demonaz, War Against All is very much another quality release. Closest comparison is obviously with Northern Chaos Gods, with a nice mix of ultra-fast and more moderate, marching riffs to be found here.

 10. CRUEL FORCE – Dawn of the Axe

Third album from Germany’s awesome speed metal powerhouse Cruel Force. These guys expertly combine early Kreator, Exodus, and any number of other speed metal and proto-thrash outfits. The ripping riffs and explosive drum fills are unapologetically old-school but still sound fresh. Some touches of subtlety, too, such as the atmospheric detour in the midst of “Devil’s Dungeon” and the 7-minute epic “Realm of Sands.”

 9. MAGICK TOUCH – Cakes & Coffins

This is Norwegian heavy metal that is really hard to classify or compare to anyone else. It is heavy and melodic with clean vocals in a traditional metal way but doesn’t sound retro. As the title might suggest, the lyrics are all a bit offbeat, which further helps distinguish the band. Great songs, interesting arrangements, and solid musicianship complete the package.

 8. MEGATON SWORD – Might & Power

Second album from this Swiss traditional metal outfit shows them already expanding their sound and exploring new ideas. Still plenty of classic heavy metal here though, such as the Into Glory Ride-era Manowar sounding “The Raving Light of Day” and the pounding “Might.” The vocals are clean but very powerful and versatile and really help the band stand out. There is a certain melancholy to the band’s sound that reminds me vaguely of Sentenced, though you would never confuse the two bands.

 7. BEYOND THE BLACK – Beyond the Black

Although I have become rather burned out on the symphonic metal scene in recent years, this album really stood out. There are so many bands that play well and have decent songs and production but they just aren’t memorable. Germany’s Beyond the Black really craft some great tunes with super infectious riffs and vocal melodies. Plus, the lyrics take a compelling look at life after death, reincarnation, and related topics, which also ties in nicely with the band’s name and, thus, perfect for this self-titled release.

 6. GOATEN – Midnight Conjuring

This amazing trio from Brazil has been around for a few years and released a couple of excellent EPs, but this is their debut full-length and it is a killer. The band combines heavy riffs with some unique, melodic vocals and absolutely infectious choruses. The band’s top-notch musicianship is used very judiciously to aid in creating atmosphere rather than showing off and it perfectly sets off the creepy, unsettling lyrics

 5. SAVAGE – Glory Riders

German band that takes the very best of early W.A.S.P. and delivers it in a heavier fashion while retaining the energy and catchiness. Some nods to other 80s bands like Quiet Riot can be found, too, but the vocals and riffing owe a great deal to Blackie Lawless and company. Sadly, they seem to have split up, according to the Metal Archives and their social media accounts are down, so if anyone has any info on what happened here, I’d love to hear about it.

 4. RAVEN - All Hell's Breaking Loose

Another great slab of energetic metal from one of the NWOBHM’s longest-running and most unique outfits. Not sure the songs are quite as memorable as the previous Metal City, but very close and they have really upped the speed to make this easily the fastest/heaviest Raven album ever. Drummer Mike Heller, who joined in 2018, is just wildly overplaying throughout the album and it is glorious.

 3. THE HIVES - The Death Of Randy Fitzsimmons

This is the other non-metal album on my list but it is just as energetic and powerful as most metal albums, if not more so. If you aren’t familiar with Sweden’s The Hives, they are a truly demented mix of punk, garage rock, dry humor and Rolling Stones’ swagger. Considering they haven’t released an album in over a decade, it is amazing they came back with one this absolutely powerful and it might well be their best one yet.

 2. ANTHEM – Crimson & Jet Black

One of the longest-running metal bands from Japan and one of the most consistent, Anthem continue to amaze by releasing this masterpiece, their 20th studio album. This is an instruction manual on how to create powerful, melodic, classic heavy metal songs with a modern production, stellar musicianship and the kind of diversity that keeps you glued to the speakers for the full 50+ minutes.

 1. SHADOWS – Out For Blood

Another amazing traditional heavy metal band that came out of nowhere, Shadows hails from Chile and have created the most infectious tunes of 2023. Elements of Shout-era Crue mix with early Dio and Mercyful Fate for a style that is at once familiar and unique. Although the band is the same line-up as the band Apostasy, I really hope this isn’t just a one-off album because I love it so much and really want to hear more in this vein.

 As usual, there were way more excellent albums than just 20, but this list is my personal top 20 at the moment. Honorable mentions go out to TYRANN, CENTURY, BLOOD STAR, GRAVEDANCER (Brazilian blackened speed/thrash metal), BLACKBRAID, INCULTER, METAL CHURCH, SORCERER, and DEMONIAC. Also, quite a number of EPs and singles came out this past year. ACID BLADE, INTRANCED, DRIFTER, OLD GHOUL, and BRONZE

 Of course, I also have to mention some great non-metal releases in 2023, specifically those from KYLIE MINOGUE, DEPECHE MODE, GLUME, MEG MYERS, POPPY, SPARKS, NOBRO and NICK WATERHOUSE. 2024 has already boasted a number of excellent albums, such as JUDAS PRIEST, VULTURE, KMFDM, BRONZE, SAXON, LUCIFER, MINISTRY, and SCAVENGER, to name just a few. Hopefully, I will post next year’s list in a timelier fashion but, until then - stay metal!.

[dwellordream]

“…Many parents of all classes sent their children away from home to work as servants or apprentices - only a small minority went into the church or to university. They were not quite so young as the Venetian author suggests, though. According to Barbara Hanawalt at Ohio State University, the aristocracy did occasionally dispatch their offspring at the age of seven, but most parents waved goodbye to them at about 14. Model letters and diaries in medieval schoolbooks indicate that leaving home was traumatic. "For all that was to me a pleasure when I was a child, from three years old to 10… while I was under my father and mother's keeping, be turned now to torments and pain," complains one boy in a letter given to pupils to translate into Latin. Illiterate servants had no means of communicating with their parents, and the difficulties of travel meant that even if children were only sent 20 miles (32 km) away they could feel completely isolated.

So why did this seemingly cruel system evolve? For the poor, there was an obvious financial incentive to rid the household of a mouth to feed. But parents did believe they were helping their children by sending them away, and the better off would save up to buy an apprenticeship. These typically lasted seven years, but they could go on for a decade. The longer the term, the cheaper it was - a sign that the Venetian visitor was correct to conclude that adolescents were a useful source of cheap labour for their masters. In 1350, the Black Death had reduced Europe's population by roughly half, so hired labour was expensive. The drop in the population, on the other hand, meant that food was cheap - so live-in labour made sense.

"There was a sense that your parents can teach you certain things, but you can learn other things and different things and more things if you get experience of being trained by someone else," says Jeremy Goldberg from the University of York. Perhaps it was also a way for parents to get rid of unruly teenagers. According to social historian Shulamith Shahar, it was thought easier for strangers to raise children - a belief that had some currency even in parts of Italy. The 14th Century Florentine merchant Paolo of Certaldo advised: "If you have a son who does nothing good… deliver him at once into the hands of a merchant who will send him to another country. Or send him yourself to one of your close friends... Nothing else can be done. While he remains with you, he will not mend his ways."

Many adolescents were contractually obliged to behave. In 1396, a contract between a young apprentice named Thomas and a Northampton brazier called John Hyndlee was witnessed by the mayor. Hyndlee took on the formal role of guardian and promised to give Thomas food, teach him his craft and not punish him too severely for mistakes. For his part, Thomas promised not to leave without permission, steal, gamble, visit prostitutes or marry. If he broke the contract, the term of his apprenticeship would be doubled to 14 years. A decade of celibacy was too much for many young men, and apprentices got a reputation for frequenting taverns and indulging in licentious behaviour. Perkyn, the protagonist of Chaucer's Cook's Tale, is an apprentice who is cast out after stealing from his master - he moves in with his friend and a prostitute. In 1517, the Mercers' guild complained that many of their apprentices "have greatly mysordered theymself", spending their masters' money on "harlotes… dyce, cardes and other unthrifty games".

In parts of Germany, Switzerland and Scandinavia, a level of sexual contact between men and women in their late teens and early twenties was sanctioned. Although these traditions - known as "bundling" and "night courting" - were only described in the 19th Century, historians believe they date back to the Middle Ages. "The girl stays at home and a male of her age comes and meets her," says Colin Heywood from the University of Nottingham. "He's allowed to stay the night with her. He can even get into bed with her. But neither of them are allowed to take their clothes off - they're not allowed to do much beyond a bit of petting." Variants on the tradition required men to sleep on top of the bed coverings or the other side of a wooden board that was placed down the centre of the bed to separate the youngsters. It was not expected that this would necessarily lead to betrothal or marriage.

To some extent, young people policed their own sexuality. "If a girl gets a reputation of being rather too easy, then she will find something unpleasant left outside her house so that the whole village knows that she has a bad reputation," says Heywood. Young people also expressed their opinion of the moral conduct of elders, in traditions known as charivari or "rough music". If they disapproved of a marriage - perhaps because the husband beat his wife or was hen-pecked, or there was a big disparity in ages - the couple would be publicly shamed. A gang would parade around carrying effigies of their victims, banging pots and pans, blowing trumpets and possibly pulling the fur of cats to make them shriek (the German word is Katzenmusik). In France, Germany and Switzerland young people banded together in abbayes de jeunesse - "abbeys of misrule" - electing a "King of Youth" each year. "They came to the fore at a time like carnival, when the whole world was turned upside down," says Heywood. Unsurprisingly, things sometimes got out of hand. Philippe Aries describes how in Avignon the young people literally held the town to ransom on carnival day, since they "had the privilege of thrashing Jews and whores unless a ransom was paid".

In London, the different guilds divided into tribes and engaged in violent disputes. In 1339, fishmongers were involved in a series of major street battles with goldsmiths. But ironically, the apprentices with the worst reputation for violence belonged to the legal profession. These boys of the Bench had independent means and did not live under the watch of their masters. In the 15th and 16th Centuries, apprentice riots in London became more common, with the mob targeting foreigners including the Flemish and Lombards. On May Day in 1517, the call to riot was shouted out - "Prentices and clubs!" - and a night of looting and violence followed that shocked Tudor England. By this time, the city was swelling with apprentices, and the adult population was finding them more difficult to control, says Barbara Hanawalt. As early death from infectious disease became rarer the apprentices faced a long wait to take over from their masters. "You've got quite a number of young men who are in apprenticeships who have got no hope of getting a workshop and a business of their own," says Jeremy Goldberg. "You've got numbers of somewhat disillusioned and disenfranchised young men, who may be predisposed to challenging authority, because they have nothing invested in it."

How different were the young men and women of the Middle Ages from today's adolescents? It's hard to judge from the available information, says Goldberg. But many parents of 21st Century teenagers will nod their heads in recognition at St Bede's Eighth Century youths, who were "lean (even though they eat heartily), swift-footed, bold, irritable and active". They might also shed a tear over a rare collection of letters from the 16th Century, written by members of the Behaim family of Nuremberg and documented by Stephen Ozment. Michael Behaim was apprenticed to a merchant in Milan at the age of 12. In the 1520s, he wrote to his mother complaining that he wasn't being taught anything about trade or markets but was being made to sweep the floor. Perhaps more troubling for his parents, he also wrote about his fears of catching the plague. Another Behaim boy towards the end of the 16th Century wrote to his parents from school. Fourteen-year-old Friedrich moaned about the food, asked for goods to be sent to keep up appearances with his peers, and wondered who would do his laundry. His mother sent three shirts in a sack, with the warning that "they may still be a bit damp so you should hang them over a window for a while". Full of good advice, like mothers today, she added: "Use the sack for your dirty washing."

- William Kremer, “What medieval Europe did with its teenagers.”

[magicandman]

The history of Helloween Halloween-  is a annual holiday celebrated each year on October It originated with the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain, when people would light bonfires and wear costumes to ward off ghosts. In the eighth century, Pope Gregory III designated November 1 as a time to honor all saints; soon, All Saints Day incorporated some of the traditions of Samhain. The evening before was known as All Hallows Eve, and later Halloween. Over time, Halloween evolved into a day of activities like trick-or-treating, carving jack-o-lanterns, festive gatherings, donning costumes and eating sweet treats. Ancient Origins of Halloween Halloween’s origins date back to the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain (pronounced sow-in). The Celts, who lived 2,000 years ago in the area that is now Ireland, the United Kingdom and northern France, celebrated their new year on November 1. This day marked the end of summer and the harvest and the beginning of the dark, cold winter, a time of year that was often associated with human death. Celts believed that on the night before the new year, the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead became blurred. On the night of October 31 they celebrated Samhain, when it was believed that the ghosts of the dead returned to earth. In addition to causing trouble and damaging crops, Celts thought that the presence of the otherworldly spirits made it easier for the Druids, or Celtic priests, to make predictions about the future. For a people entirely dependent on the volatile natural world, these prophecies were an important source of comfort and direction during the long, dark winter. To commemorate the event, Druids built huge sacred bonfires, where the people gathered to burn crops and animals as sacrifices to the Celtic deities. During the celebration, the Celts wore costumes, typically consisting of animal heads and skins, and attempted to tell each other’s fortunes. When the celebration was over, they re-lit their hearth fires, which they had extinguished earlier that evening, from the sacred bonfire to help protect them during the coming winter. Did you know? One quarter of all the candy sold annually in the U.S. is purchased for Halloween. By 43 A.D., the Roman Empire had conquered the majority of Celtic territory. In the course of the four hundred years that they ruled the Celtic lands, two festivals of Roman origin were combined with the traditional Celtic celebration of Samhain. The first was Feralia, a day in late October when the Romans traditionally commemorated the passing of the dead. The second was a day to honor Pomona, the Roman goddess of fruit and trees. The symbol of Pomona is the apple, and the incorporation of this celebration into Samhain probably explains the tradition of “bobbing” for apples that is practiced today on Halloween. All Saints Day On May 13, 609 A.D., Pope Boniface IV dedicated the Pantheon in Rome in honor of all Christian martyrs, and the Catholic feast of All Martyrs Day was established in the Western church. Pope Gregory III later expanded the festival to include all saints as well as all martyrs, and moved the observance from May 13 to November 1. By the 9th century the influence of Christianity had spread into Celtic lands, where it gradually blended with and supplanted the older Celtic rites. In 1000 A.D., the church would make November 2 All Souls’ Day, a day to honor the dead. It’s widely believed today that the church was attempting to replace the Celtic festival of the dead with a related church-sanctioned holiday. All Souls Day was celebrated similarly to Samhain, with big bonfires, parades, and dressing up in costumes as saints, angels and devils. The All Saints Day celebration was also called All-hallows or All-hallowmas (from Middle English Alholowmessemeaning All Saints’ Day) and the night before it, the traditional night of Samhain in the Celtic religion, began to be called All-Hallows Eve and, eventually, Halloween. Halloween Comes to America Celebration of Halloween was extremely limited in colonial New England because of the rigid Protestant belief systems there. Halloween was much more common in Maryland and the southern colonies. As the beliefs and customs of different European ethnic groups as well as the American Indians meshed, a distinctly American version of Halloween began to emerge. The first celebrations included “play parties,” public events held to celebrate the harvest, where neighbors would share stories of the dead, tell each other’s fortunes, dance and sing. Colonial Halloween festivities also featured the telling of ghost stories and mischief-making of all kinds. By the middle of the nineteenth century, annual autumn festivities were common, but Halloween was not yet celebrated everywhere in the country. In the second half of the nineteenth century, America was flooded with new immigrants. These new immigrants, especially the millions of Irish fleeing the Irish Potato Famine, helped to popularize the celebration of Halloween nationally. Trick-or-Treat Borrowing from Irish and English traditions, Americans began to dress up in costumes and go house to house asking for food or money, a practice that eventually became today’s “trick-or-treat” tradition. Young women believed that on Halloween they could divine the name or appearance of their future husband by doing tricks with yarn, apple parings or mirrors. In the late 1800s, there was a move in America to mold Halloween into a holiday more about community and neighborly get-togethers than about ghosts, pranks and witchcraft. At the turn of the century, Halloween parties for both children and adults became the most common way to celebrate the day. Parties focused on games, foods of the season and festive costumes. Parents were encouraged by newspapers and community leaders to take anything “frightening” or “grotesque” out of Halloween celebrations. Because of these efforts, Halloween lost most of its superstitious and religious overtones by the beginning of the twentieth century Halloween Parties By the 1920s and 1930s, Halloween had become a secular, but community-centered holiday, with parades and town-wide Halloween parties as the featured entertainment. Despite the best efforts of many schools and communities, vandalism began to plague some celebrations in many communities during this time. By the 1950s, town leaders had successfully limited vandalism and Halloween had evolved into a holiday directed mainly at the young. Due to the high numbers of young children during the fifties baby boom, parties moved from town civic centers into the classroom or home, where they could be more easily accommodated. Between 1920 and 1950, the centuries-old practice of trick-or-treating was also revived. Trick-or-treating was a relatively inexpensive way for an entire community to share the Halloween celebration. In theory, families could also prevent tricks being played on them by providing the neighborhood children with small treats. Thus, a new American tradition was born, and it has continued to grow. Today, Americans spend an estimated $6 billion annually on Halloween, making it the country’s second largest commercial holiday after Christmas. Soul Cakes The American Halloween tradition of “trick-or-treating” probably dates back to the early All Souls’ Day parades in England. During the festivities, poor citizens would beg for food and families would give them pastries called “soul cakes” in return for their promise to pray for the family’s dead relatives. The distribution of soul cakes was encouraged by the church as a way to replace the ancient practice of leaving food and wine for roaming spirits. The practice, which was referred to as “going a-souling” was eventually taken up by children who would visit the houses in their neighborhood and be given ale, food and money. The tradition of dressing in costume for Halloween has both European and Celtic roots. Hundreds of years ago, winter was an uncertain and frightening time. Food supplies often ran low and, for the many people afraid of the dark, the short days of winter were full of constant worry. On Halloween, when it was believed that ghosts came back to the earthly world, people thought that they would encounter ghosts if they left their homes. To avoid being recognized by these ghosts, people would wear masks when they left their homes after dark so that the ghosts would mistake them for fellow spirits. On Halloween, to keep ghosts away from their houses, people would place bowls of food outside their homes to appease the ghosts and prevent them from attempting to enter. Black Cats Halloween has always been a holiday filled with mystery, magic and superstition. It began as a Celtic end-of-summer festival during which people felt especially close to deceased relatives and friends. For these friendly spirits, they set places at the dinner table, left treats on doorsteps and along the side of the road and lit candles to help loved ones find their way back to the spirit world. Today’s Halloween ghosts are often depicted as more fearsome and malevolent, and our customs and superstitions are scarier too. We avoid crossing paths with black cats, afraid that they might bring us bad luck. This idea has its roots in the Middle Ages, when many people believed that witches avoided detection by turning themselves into black cats. We try not to walk under ladders for the same reason. This superstition may have come from the ancient Egyptians, who believed that triangles were sacred (it also may have something to do with the fact that walking under a leaning ladder tends to be fairly unsafe). And around Halloween, especially, we try to avoid breaking mirrors, stepping on cracks in the road or spilling salt. Halloween Matchmaking But what about the Halloween traditions and beliefs that today’s trick-or-treaters have forgotten all about? Many of these obsolete rituals focused on the future instead of the past and the living instead of the dead. In particular, many had to do with helping young women identify their future husbands and reassuring them that they would someday—with luck, by next Halloween—be married. In 18th-century Ireland, a matchmaking cook might bury a ring in her mashed potatoes on Halloween night, hoping to bring true love to the diner who found it. In Scotland, fortune-tellers recommended that an eligible young woman name a hazelnut for each of her suitors and then toss the nuts into the fireplace. The nut that burned to ashes rather than popping or exploding, the story went, represented the girl’s future husband. (In some versions of this legend, the opposite was true: The nut that burned away symbolized a love that would not last.) Another tale had it that if a young woman ate a sugary concoction made out of walnuts, hazelnuts and nutmeg before bed on Halloween night she would dream about her future husband. Young women tossed apple-peels over their shoulders, hoping that the peels would fall on the floor in the shape of their future husbands’ initials; tried to learn about their futures by peering at egg yolks floating in a bowl of water; and stood in front of mirrors in darkened rooms, holding candles and looking over their shoulders for their husbands’ faces. Other rituals were more competitive. At some Halloween parties, the first guest to find a burr on a chestnut-hunt would be the first to marry; at others, the first successful apple-bobber would be the first down the aisle. Of course, whether we’re asking for romantic advice or trying to avoid seven years of bad luck, each one of these Halloween superstitions relies on the goodwill of the very same “spirits” whose presence the early Celts felt so keenly.

[beatdisc]

7″ PUNK VINYL

Recently we've bought 3-4 incredible punk/hardcore/post-punk/new wave 7" vinyl collections. So we thought we'd make a list (around 300 titles) for ya'll to check out. See below for everything in-stock right now and get in touch for details & orders!

...AND THE NATIVE HIPSTERS THERE GOES CONCORDE AGAIN $60.00 4" BE 2" ONE OF THE LADS $10.00 7 SECONDS BLASTS FROM THE PAST $15.00 7 SECONDS SKINS, BRAINS & GUTS E.P. $20.00 7 SECONDS / KILL YOUR IDOLS 7 SECONDS / KILL YOUR IDOLS $10.00 86 MENTALITY 86 MENTALITY $15.00 ABRASIVE WHEELS VICIOUS CIRCLE EP $15.00 ADVERTS, THE SAFETY IN NUMBERS $10.00 AGNOSTIC FRONT THAT'S LIFE $10.00 ALCOA DROWNED $10.00 AMBER INN SERENITY IN HAND $8.00 AMPERE / DAITRO SPLIT: PIC DISC $15.00 ANGELIC UPSTARTS NEVER 'AD NOTHIN' $10.00 ANGRY SAMOANS D. FOR THE DEAD $15.00 ARMS RACE GOTTA GET OUT $10.00 ASYLUM SYSTEM OVERLOAD $5.00 ATTEN ASH / LYCANTHIA CITY IN THE SEA / THE HARBINGER $10.00 BAMODI / MEKARE-KARE SPLIT $5.00 BETWEEN THE DEVIL AND THE DEEP UPSTREAM $5.00 BLACK EYES / EARLY HUMANS SPLIT $8.00 BLIND JUSTICE / HEAVY CHAINS SPLIT $10.00 BONELESS UNSTOPPABLE $5.00 BOOKS LIE I FELT LIKE SUCH A LOSER UNTIL I REALIZE $5.00 BOW WOW WOW W.O.R.K. $10.00 BRING ME THE HORIZON DROWN: PIC DISC $15.00 BUZZCOCKS PROMISES / LIPSTICK $15.00 CATHOLIC GIRLS DISTANT $8.00 CHAINSAW GIRLS CHAINSAW GIRLS $5.00 CHOKE WAR OF THE SUBURBS $10.00 CHUCK RAGAN / MUFF POTTER SPLIT $8.00 CIVIL WAR JADED MINDS $5.00 CLASH, THE WHITE RIOT $15.00 CLASH, THE COMPLETE CONTROL $10.00 CLASH, THE CLASH CITY ROCKERS $10.00 COALESCE SALT AND PASSAGE $15.00 COCKNEY REJECTS I'M NOT A FOOL $15.00 COCKNEY REJECTS THE GREATEST COCKNEY RIP-OFF $15.00 COCKNEY REJECTS WE CAN DO ANYTHING $10.00 COKE BUST / VACCINE SPLIT $8.00 COLD WORLD / WAR HUNGRY SPLIT $8.00 COLOSSVS CLEANSED IN BLOOD/REBORN IN SIN $10.00 COMA REGALIA / LAEIRS SPLIT $5.00 COMA REGALIA / QUANTIS SPLIT $10.00 CONTROLLED SELF SUFFICE $5.00 CORPS, THE TOUR 2008 $8.00 COUNT ME OUT WHAT WE BUILT $30.00 CRAWLING CHAOS SEX MACHINE $30.00 CREATURES, THE WILD THINGS $15.00 CRIPPLE BASTARDS JAPAN/AUSTRALIA TOUR 2014 $15.00 CRISIS ALERT CRISIS ALERT $10.00 CRUEL HAND CRUEL HAND $10.00 CRUEL HAND VIGILANT CITIZEN $8.00 CURSED EARTH / BURNING SEASON SPLIT $15.00 DAMNED, THE ELOISE $10.00 DANGEROUS TOYS SCARED $5.00 DANSE MACABRE DIE KRITIK IST KEINE LEIDENSCHAFT DES KO $10.00 DARK HORSE / BLACK JESUS SPLIT $5.00 DAVE GOODMAN & FRIENDS JUSTIFIABLE HOMICIDE $10.00 DAVE HAUSE TIME WILL TELL $8.00 DAVE HAUSE PRAY FOR TUCSON: COLOUR $8.00 DAVE HAUSE HEAVY HEART $8.00 DAVE HAUSE RESOLUTIONS: RSD 2012 $15.00 DAVE HAUSE PRAY FOR TUCSON $5.00 DAVE HAUSE C'MON KID $5.00 DEAD / VAZ SPLIT $10.00 DEAD END PATH DEATH WALKS BESIDE US $10.00 DEAD KENNEDYS BLEED FOR ME $20.00 DEAD KENNEDYS KILL THE POOR $20.00 DEAD KENNEDYS TOO DRUNK TO FUCK $20.00 DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR OUR GLORY DAYS $8.00 DECLARATION BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE $8.00 DEFEATER LOST GROUND $15.00 DISGORGE / GORE BEYOND NECROPSY SPLIT $8.00 DISTRACTIONS, THE TIME GOES BY SO SLOW $15.00 DOWNPRESSER AGE OF IGNORANCE $10.00 DOWNPRESSER / CREATURES SPLIT $10.00 DOWNSIDE / LEGIONS SPLIT $10.00 DRAGO MIETTE, THE A SLOW SUMMER DROWNING $5.00 DROPDEAD / UNHOLY GRAVE SPLIT $10.00 DROWNINGMAN HOW THEY LIGHT CIGAREETES IN PRISON $8.00 EL EJE DEL MAL / INQUIRY LAST SCENERY SPLIT $5.00 ELECTRIK DYNAMITE STEEL OF FORTUNE $10.00 END, THE MY CONFESSION / WHITE WORLD $150.00 EXPLOITED, THE COMPUTERS DON'T BLUNDER $15.00 EXPLOITED, THE DEAD CITIES $15.00 EXPLOITED, THE ATTACK / ALTERNATIVE $15.00 FAILURES FAILURES $8.00 FALL, THE THE MAN WHOSE HEAD EXPANDED $30.00 FALL, THE LIE DREAM OF A CASINO SOUL $25.00 FALL, THE LOOK, KNOW $30.00 FINAL EXIT MIDDLE AGED STINKING COWBOYS $5.00 FIRE & ICE GODS & DEVILS $5.00 FIRE & ICE GRIM $5.00 FIRST STEP, THE CONNECTION EP $10.00 FIT FOR ABUSE MINDLESS VIOLENCE EP $15.00 FLEX, THE DO YA THINK I'M FLEXI? $5.00 FLEX, THE DON'T BOTHER WITH THE OUTSIDE WORLD $8.00 FRANK RIZZO EXTRACTION $5.00 FRENZAL RHOMB 4 LITRES $10.00 FUCK U IS MY NAME CATELBOW $5.00 GASH GOD IS DEAD $80.00 GAYRILLA BISCUITS HUNG QUEENS CAN SUCK IT EP $15.00 GBH GIVE ME FIRE / MAN-TRAP $15.00 GEHENNA / CALIFORNIA LOVE SPLIT $5.00 GENERAL STRIKE MY BODY $50.00 GENERATION X YOUR GENERATION $15.00 GENERATION X YOUR GENERATION $300.00 GET RAD BASTARDS UNITE $5.00 GET RAD / CALL ME LIGHTING SPLIT $5.00 GLOVE, THE LIKE AN ANIMAL $15.00 GOD'S HATE DIVINE INJUSTICE $10.00 GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN SEATTLE CREW DEMO $10.00 GRAVES FIDES AD NAUSEAM $8.00 HARD-ONS DULL / SRI LANKA $30.00 HARD-ONS WHERE DID SHE COME FROM? / GET OUT OF MY $15.00 HARMS WAY BREEDING GROUNDS $15.00 HI-STANDARD CALIFORNIA DREAMIN' $10.00 HOAX HOAX $8.00 HOLY MOLAR CAVITY SEARCH $8.00 HOSTILE OBJECTS YOUNG GOD $8.00 HOSTILE OBJECTS CAVE IN $8.00 HUMAN LEAGUE, THE EMPIRE STATE HUMAN $10.00 HUMAN LEAGUE, THE BOYS AND GIRLS $10.00 HUMAN LEAGUE, THE HOLIDAY 80 / ROCK 'N' ROLL $8.00 HUMAN LEAGUE, THE FASCINATION $8.00 HURTxUNIT WIRED WRONG $8.00 HURTxUNIT DEMO $8.00 I RISE / SOUL CONTROL SPLIT $5.00 ICEMEN, THE THE ICEMEN $15.00 IDYLLS AMPS FOR GOD / PLAGUE HELL $10.00 ILL BRIGADE THE E.P. $8.00 ILL BRIGADE IN THIS AGE $8.00 IMAGES DREAMS ARE REAL $8.00 INTENT TO INJURE KEEP US STRONG E.P. $10.00 JAMES DEAN ACROSS THE GREAT DIVIDE $8.00 JERRY'S KIDS SPYMASTER $10.00 JOHNNY TEEN & THE BROKEN HEARTS SHE STINKS OF SEX $10.00 JONAH MATRANGA / KEVIN SECONDS JONAH MATRANGA / KEVIN SECONDS $5.00 JUMP VISION CAN'T GET USED TO YOU $30.00 JUNGLE FEVER JUNGLE FEVER! $15.00 KEEP IT CLEAR KEEP IT CLEAR $15.00 KEVIN SECONDS / MIKE HALE SPLIT $5.00 KEVIN SECONDS / MIKE SCOTT SPLIT $6.00 KUNGFU RICK / THE ULTIMATE WARRIORS SPLIT $5.00 LEMON KITTENS SPOONFED + WRITHING $30.00 LEMURIA BRILLIANT DANCER $8.00 LEMURIA VAROOM ALLURE: RSD 2012 $10.00 LEMURIA RACE THE GERM / BIG GOLD ADULTS $15.00 LOCUST, THE FLIGHT OF THE WOUNDED LOCUST $15.00 LOCUST, THE / ARAB ON RADAR SPLIT $15.00 LOGIC SYSTEM DOMINO DANCE / BE YOURSELF: PIC DISC $10.00 LOVE, HOPE AND FEAR FATE'S FROWNED ON US $5.00 MEO 245 SIN CITY $10.00 MILHOUSE EVERYTHING'S COMING UP: REISSUE $8.00 MINOR THREAT LIVE AT BUFF HALL $20.00 MO-DETTES, THE PAINT IT BLACK $15.00 MOMENT / THERE WERE WIRES SPLIT $5.00 MONTE CAZAZZA SOMETHING FOR NOBODY $30.00 MONTE CAZAZZA TO MOM ON MOTHER'S DAY $30.00 MONUMENT A 3 SONG 7" $5.00 MOVING PARTS LIVING CHINA DOLL $15.00 NAYSAYER NO REMORSE: COLOUR $8.00 NAZ NOMAD AND THE NIGHTMARES / A.N.T.S.S HEY BO DIDDLEY / M-A-N $40.00 NEW BRIGADE DEMO 2011 $15.00 NEWTOWN NEUROTICS BLITZKRIEG BOP $15.00 NO ANCHOR THE HISTORY OF THE EAGLES PT. 1 $10.00 NOFX SURFER $10.00 NOFX FUCK THE KIDS $10.00 NOFX THE P.M.R.C. CAN SUCK ON THIS $10.00 NOFX LIZA AND LOUISE: COLOUR $30.00 NOFX TIMMY THE TURTLE: COLOUR $20.00 NOFX LOUISE AND LIZA: COLOUR $15.00 NUCLEAR SUMMER / STOCKADES SPLIT $5.00 OF FEATHER AND BONE / REPROACHER SPLIT $5.00 ORCHESTRAL MANOEUVRES IN THE DARK ENOLA GAY $10.00 OUT CROWD JUST US $8.00 OUTSIDERS CODE DEMO $5.00 PALAIS SCHAUMBURG TELEPHON / KINDER DER TOD $50.00 PARADES END PARADES END $10.00 PEACEBREAKERS EVERY DAY BATTLE $5.00 PENETRATION FIRING SQUAD $15.00 PETER & THE TEST TUBE BABIES KEY TO THE CITY $15.00 PHANTOMS S.O.S. $15.00 PLAGUES PERFECT STATE $5.00 POPULAR MECHANICS FROM HERE TO OBSCURITY $60.00 POSTBLUE LAP YEAR $10.00 PRODUCT OF WASTE GOOD AND EVIL $10.00 PROGRESSION CULT NEW BLOOD EP $50.00 PSYCHEDELIC FURS, THE WE LOVE YOU $8.00 PSYCHOTIC MANIACS A TRIBE OF MELBOURNE $40.00 PUBLIC IMAGE LTD. PUBLIC IMAGE $15.00 PUBLIC IMAGE LTD. BAD LIFE $10.00 RACEBANNON CLUBBER LANG $5.00 RACOON CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT / TIRED MI SPLIT $5.00 RANCID RADIO RADIO RADIO $10.00 REJEX NIAGARA BABY $250.00 RICH KIDS RICH KIDS $10.00 RIVERDALES BLOOD ON THE ICE / NO SENSE $15.00 R'N'R I'VE HAD IT / YOUR RULES $5.00 R'N'R / A-TEAM SPLIT $5.00 R'N'R / FIT FOR ABUSE SPLIT $6.00 ROCK BOTTOM BORN II HATE $5.00 ROCK BOTTOM YOUR DEMISE $8.00 RUDE AWAKENING THE AWAKENING $8.00 RUKUS RUKUS $10.00 SADDEST LANDSCAPE, THE COVER YOUR HEART $10.00 SAINTS, THE KNOW YOUR PRODUCT $30.00 SCAPAFLOW ENDLESS SLEEP / THE END $30.00 SECTOR 27 NOT READY $8.00 SETUP, THE / WOW, OWLS! THE SETUP VS. WOW, OWLS! $5.00 SEX GANG CHILDREN INTO THE ABYSS $15.00 SFO / WHITE MALE DUMBINANCE SPLIT $8.00 SHEER MAG SHEER MAG III $8.00 SHIPWRECKED ARCTIC NIGHTS $15.00 SIOUXSIE & THE BANSHEES ISRAEL $10.00 SIOUXSIE & THE BANSHEES THE STAIRCASE (MYSTERY) $15.00 SIOUXSIE & THE BANSHEES PLAYGROUND TWIST $15.00 SIOUXSIE & THE BANSHEES SPELLBOUND $15.00 SLAPSHOT EVERYTHING WANTS TO KILL YOU $30.00 SLAPSHOT LIMITED TOUR EDITION 2012 $20.00 SMIRKS, THE ROSEMARY $10.00 SNATCH I.R.T. / STANLEY $10.00 SNUFF LONG BALL TO NO-ONE $8.00 SOUL SEARCH NOTHING BUT A NIGHTMARE $15.00 SOUL SEARCH / MINUS SPLIT $10.00 STARVATION / NEGATIVE REINFORCEMENT SPLIT $8.00 STEP FORWARD STEP FORWARD $8.00 STEVE DIGGLE 50 YEARS OF COMPARATIVE WEALTH E.P. $15.00 STIFF LITTLE FINGERS GOTTA GETTAWAY $15.00 STIGMATA THERE IS NO MERCY HERE $8.00 STINKY TOYS BOOZY CREED / DRIVER BLUES $20.00 STRAFE FUR REBELLION MOSCHE BILDT NJET $10.00 STRESS RELIEF FEELINGS OF EXPIRATION $8.00 SURVIVAL SURVIVAL $6.00 SWELLERS, THE WELCOME BACK RIDERS $10.00 TACTICS COALFACE $10.00 TACTICS LONG WEEKEND $500.00 TEN YARD FIGHT DEMO 1995 $10.00 TERRITORY BLOWBACK $8.00 THICK SKIN WOLF $5.00 TILLER BOYS, THE BIG NOISE FROM THE JUNGLE $15.00 TILT GUN PLAY $8.00 TIMBER TIMBER $5.00 TONY SLY / JOEY CAPE SPLIT $20.00 TOUCHE AMORE LIVE ON BBC RADIO 1 $10.00 TRANSISTOR TRANSISTOR / MANNEQUIN SPLIT $5.00 TRUE COLOURS CONSIDER IT DONE $10.00 TSK TSK TSK NICE NOISE $100.00 TURNSTILE PRESSURE TO SUCCEED $10.00 UN QUARTO MORTO AUSTRALIAN TOUR 2010 $10.00 UNBROKEN AND / FALL ON PROVERB $10.00 UNDERDOG UNDERDOG $10.00 UNDERTONES, THE GET OVER YOU $10.00 UNIFORM CHOICE 1982 ORANGE PEEL SESSIONS $10.00 URNS URNS $8.00 VACCINE DEAD INSIDE $5.00 VANILLA CHAINSAWS LIKE YOU $10.00 VARIOUS VERY COOL & VERY CORE $8.00 VARIOUS THE EXTERMINATION $10.00 VARIOUS SICK OF THINGS THE WAY THEY ARE $6.00 VARIOUS FREE HARD VINYL EP! $5.00 VARIOUS READ ARMY FACTION $10.00 VARIOUS THE ICEMEN COMETH $10.00 VARIOUS ABSOLUTES NEW ENGLAND HARDCORE COMPILA $10.00 VIOLENCE TO FADE TUG OF WAR $8.00 VIOLENT CHILDREN ROCK AGAINST SPINDLERS $15.00 VIOLENT CHILDREN VIOLENT CHILDREN $20.00 VIOLENT FUTURE VIOLENT FUTURE $10.00 VIOLENT FUTURE VIOLENT FUTURE $10.00 VIOLENT MINDS VIOLENT MINDS $5.00 VIOLENT REACTION VIOLENT REACTION $10.00 VIOLENT REACTION DEAD END E.P. $15.00 VULTEES KICK IT OUT $10.00 VVEGAS/ABRAXIS SPLIT: GREEN $8.00 WAR HUNGRY RETURN TO EARTH $5.00 WARBRAIN PARANOIA $10.00 WARBRAIN / MINUS SPLIT $10.00 WASTE MANAGEMENT POWER ABUSE $8.00 WASTED YOUTH JEALOUSY $15.00 WEAR YOUR WOUNDS / REVELATOR WEAR YOUR WOUNDS / REVELATOR $10.00 WHITE LUNG BLOW IT SOUTH $10.00 YACHTS THERE'S A GHOST IN MY HOUSE $10.00 YOUNG OFFENDERS BIG MAN, SMALL HOUSE $5.00

#beatdiscpreownedvinyl

[clearhologrampainter]

Home Lovers Do - Home - HOME LOVERS DO

"Love Is A House" is a 1987 tune by American R&B bunch Force M.D.'s. Delivered on the band's Touch and Go collection, the single was the gathering's third top ten hit on the Billboards Black Singles diagram, and their best on that graph topping at number one for about fourteen days, in the late spring of 1987. "Love Is A House" was likewise the gathering's second and last Hot 100 delivery, cresting at number seventy-eight.  Home Lovers do

The House of Love are an English elective musical gang, framed in London in 1986 by vocalist lyricist guitarist Guy Chadwick and prime supporter and lead guitarist Terry Bickers. They rose to unmistakable quality in 1987 with their first single "Beam On", delivered on the autonomous name Creation. The next year, the band delivered their widely praised eponymous presentation collection and assembled their standing throughout the following barely any years through resulting discharges, steady visiting and the help of English press. They marked with Fontana Records in 1989 and met business accomplishment in 1990 with their subsequent self-named collection, which topped at number 8 in the UK collections graph. Their third collection, Babe Rainbow, was well met by the pundits in 1992 and furthermore arrived at the best 40 in the UK.

The House of Love are most popular for their itemized hallucinogenic guitar sound and for different singles, for example, "Christine" and "Wreck the Heart". In the US, the melodies "I Don't Know Why I Love You", "Marble" and "You Don't Understand" were additionally famous on elective stone radio broadcasts, separately arriving at number two, number five and number nine on the Billboard Modern Rock outline. The House of Love disbanded in 1993. Following a rest of 10 years, they changed in 2003 with Bickers, who had performed on their two first collections. They have been refered to as an impact by shoegazing groups Slowdive and Ride.

The House of Love were shaped in 1986 in Camberwell, London by previous Kingdoms artist and guitarist Guy Chadwick: he had been enlivened to begin another band subsequent to seeing the Jesus and Mary Chain in show at London's Electric Ballroom. He composed another tune called "Christine", which gave him thoughts for additional advancement: "The possibility of the sound of the gathering and what sort of performers to search for... female vocals... a decent interpretation of the Velvets' sonics... furthermore, obviously the image." Chadwick collaborated with an old companion – drummer Pete Evans – and enrolled the remainder of the underlying House of Love setup by means of an advert in Melody Maker. This united a global band of London-conceived lead guitarist Terry Bickers (ex-Colenso Parade), German cadence guitarist/co-vocalist Andrea Heukamp and bass player Chris Groothuizen (from New Zealand). Chadwick picked to name his new band The House of Love after Anaïs Nin's book A Spy in the House of Love. There was an impressive age differential in the band: Chadwick, at this point matured 30, was almost ten years more established than Terry Bickers.

Marking to Creation Records, The House of Love delivered their presentation single "Radiate On" in May 1987 and visited with Felt and Zodiac Mindwarp. During the last 50% of 1987, the band kept on visiting: a third on the bill setting at a show at the Town and Country Club was generally acclaimed in the press and persuaded Creation Records to make them record, "Christine" – which would not be delivered as a solitary before mid-1988. "Christine" was likewise the remainder of the band's chronicles to highlight Andrea Heukamp as a full part: having gotten worn out on visiting, she quit the band toward the finish of 1987.

In spite of the fact that the split was neighborly, Chadwick would later remark "Losing Andrea Heukamp was a huge, huge blow for me: I loved her voice and I loved her playing, she was effectively as significant as Pete, Terry or Chris." Heukamp showed up in the gathering shot utilized for the front of the band's initially long-structure discharge – a 1987 Germany-just accumulation of the early accounts, eight melodies all of which she had played on. This record was untitled separated from the band name and was therefore known as The House of Love or casually as The German Album. Heukamp's part from The House of Love would not be outright, as she would return as a studio visitor on a portion of the band's ensuing collections.

Following Heukamp's flight, The House of Love started chipping away at their introduction collection. The account meetings were finished in a little more than seven days, yet the blending meetings – supposedly fuelled by bountiful utilization of LSD – demonstrated more dangerous, with maker Pat Collier managing the last blend after differences inside the band. The collection was gone before by the arrival of "Christine" as a solitary in May 1988, which arrived at No. 1 in the autonomous charts. Later in May, the presentation collection was delivered. Similarly as with The German Album, the collection did not have a conventional title anyplace on the sleeve, and accordingly turned out to be commonly known as The House of Love. An independent single, "Crush The Heart", was in the long run casted a ballot single of the year in DJ John Peel's Festive Fifty.

Following the achievement of the main collection which bested the outside the box outlines in Europe, the band selected to sign to Fontana Records (and Polygram in the US), with Creation name head Alan McGee proceeding for some time as director. Unfavorably, at this point the band's medication use had started to raise significantly further, as had interior issues with inner selves and dissension.

The primary House of Love discharge on the Fontana mark was the single "Never", which was given against the band's wishes, and slowed down external the Top 40. During summer 1989, The House of Love played seven days in length residency at the I.C.A in London, changing their sets and highlighting support groups as different as Pere Ubu, Stone Roses and the Rainbirds.

The chronicle and blending of the band's next collection (and first for Fontana) was plagued with issues. The musicians were occupied by debauchery, self image and hesitation, experiencing four distinct makers and various studios. The pressure of Fontana's business desires were likewise having an impact. In 2005, Chadwick recalled that "the person who marked us (Dave Bates) had marked Def Leppard and Tears for Fears so he had a ton of clout. He demanded assembling us with makers who were clearly off-base for us. He was totally uninterested in whatever didn't have a gigantic theme in it. He needed hits, fundamentally. He likewise requested a heap of remixes that we hadn't approved and we totally loathed."

A lot later, Chadwick was to view marking with Fontana as the most exceedingly terrible error in the band's vocation. At that point, Terry Bickers was of this assessment as of now. Having consistently been discontent with the ramifications of the Fontana arrangement, and now feeling legitimized in his apprehensions, he started to withdraw into uneasiness and medications, inevitably surrendering to hyper depression. By this time, Chadwick's own duties and outside weights – fuelled by his developing medication and liquor propensity – would transform him into what he would later depicted as "(a) beast. A pleasant beast, some of the time, however a beast none the less." Before any longer, Chadwick and Bickers were done conversing with each other.

The following House of Love single, "I Don't Know Why I Love You", was delivered in November 1989 however slowed down at number 41 in the graphs notwithstanding being Radio 1's Single of the Week. A sixty or more date UK visit was set for the year's end, with a significant press covering and public consideration, yet this would end up being the straw that broke the camel's back for the band's underlying arrangement. In 2005 Bickers remembered "After our first collection it was hyper. An exemplary instance of a lot of too early. We required a break... We had gone through eighteen months in the studio recording our subsequent collection. All that we created got dismissed and we were toward the finish of our ropes. At that point when we got the last track down they said 'Right, presently off you go on visit'. It was a formula for disaster."

A home, or home, is a space utilized as a perpetual or semi-lasting habitation for an individual, gathering or family. It is a completely or semi shielded space and can have both inside and outside viewpoints to it. Homes give protected spaces to case rooms, where homegrown action can be performed, for example, resting, getting ready food, eating and cleanliness just as giving spaces to work and recreation, for example, far off working, contemplating and playing. Actual types of homes can be static, for example, a house or a loft, portable, for example, a houseboat, trailer or yurt or computerized, for example, virtual space. The part of 'home' can be considered across scales, from the miniature size displaying the most cozy spaces of the individual dwelling and direct encompassing zone to the large scale size of the geographic zone, for example, town, town, city, nation or planet.

A guideline of protected law in numerous nations, identified with the privilege to security revered in article 12 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights  is the sacredness of the home as a person's place of sanctuary and shelter.

The idea of 'home' has been explored and speculated across disciplines - points going from home, the inside, the mind, liminal space, challenged space to sexual orientation and legislative issues. Such points can be found in the works of Gaston Bachelard, Jean Baudrillard, Mrs Isabella Beeton, Pierre Bourdieu, Beatriz Colomina, Le Corbusier, Mary Douglas, Diana Fuss, Dolores Hayden, Martin Heidegger, Henri Lefebvre, Edith Wharton among numerous others. Discussions of home can assist better with comprehension and challenge view of self and the augmentation of self.

Spots of habitation don't really correspond with relationship to the home; the home comprises of an actual space just as an enthusiastic and mental relationship, where memory, solace, action and commonality are a portion of the numerous significant components in the development of home. Amongst being a space of homegrown action the home in the 21st century has appropriated new implications with the promotion

[mysticallymanic]

Ancient Origins of Halloween

Halloween’s origins date back to the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain (pronounced sow-in). The Celts, who lived 2,000 years ago, mostly in the area that is now Ireland, the United Kingdom and northern France, celebrated their new year on November 1.

This day marked the end of summer and the harvest and the beginning of the dark, cold winter, a time of year that was often associated with human death. Celts believed that on the night before the new year, the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead became blurred. On the night of October 31 they celebrated Samhain, when it was believed that the ghosts of the dead returned to earth.

In addition to causing trouble and damaging crops, Celts thought that the presence of the otherworldly spirits made it easier for the Druids, or Celtic priests, to make predictions about the future. For a people entirely dependent on the volatile natural world, these prophecies were an important source of comfort during the long, dark winter.

To commemorate the event, Druids built huge sacred bonfires, where the people gathered to burn crops and animals as sacrifices to the Celtic deities. During the celebration, the Celts wore costumes, typically consisting of animal heads and skins, and attempted to tell each other’s fortunes.

When the celebration was over, they re-lit their hearth fires, which they had extinguished earlier that evening, from the sacred bonfire to help protect them during the coming winter.

By 43 A.D., the Roman Empire had conquered the majority of Celtic territory. In the course of the 400 years that they ruled the Celtic lands, two festivals of Roman origin were combined with the traditional Celtic celebration of Samhain.

The first was Feralia, a day in late October when the Romans traditionally commemorated the passing of the dead. The second was a day to honor Pomona, the Roman goddess of fruit and trees. The symbol of Pomona is the apple, and the incorporation of this celebration into Samhain probably explains the tradition of bobbing for apples that is practiced today on Halloween.

All Saints' Day

On May 13, 609 A.D., Pope Boniface IV dedicated the Pantheon in Rome in honor of all Christian martyrs, and the Catholic feast of All Martyrs Day was established in the Western church. Pope Gregory III later expanded the festival to include all saints as well as all martyrs, and moved the observance from May 13 to November 1.

By the 9th century, the influence of Christianity had spread into Celtic lands, where it gradually blended with and supplanted older Celtic rites. In 1000 A.D., the church made November 2 All Souls’ Day, a day to honor the dead. It’s widely believed today that the church was attempting to replace the Celtic festival of the dead with a related, church-sanctioned holiday.

All Souls’ Day was celebrated similarly to Samhain, with big bonfires, parades and dressing up in costumes as saints, angels and devils. The All Saints’ Day celebration was also called All-hallows or All-hallowmas (from Middle English Alholowmesse meaning All Saints’ Day) and the night before it, the traditional night of Samhain in the Celtic religion, began to be called All-Hallows Eve and, eventually, Halloween.

Halloween Comes to America    

The celebration of Halloween was extremely limited in colonial New England because of the rigid Protestant belief systems there. Halloween was much more common in Maryland and the southern colonies.

As the beliefs and customs of different European ethnic groups and the American Indians meshed, a distinctly American version of Halloween began to emerge. The first celebrations included “play parties,” which were public events held to celebrate the harvest. Neighbors would share stories of the dead, tell each other’s fortunes, dance and sing.

Halloween festivities also featured the telling of ghost stories and mischief-making of all kinds. By the middle of the 19th century, annual autumn festivities were common, but Halloween was not yet celebrated everywhere in the country.In the second half of the 19th century, America was flooded with new immigrants. These new immigrants, especially the millions of Irish fleeing the Irish Potato Famine, helped to popularize the celebration of Halloween nationally.

History of Trick-or-Treating

Borrowing from European traditions, Americans began to dress up in costumes and go house to house asking for food or money, a practice that eventually became today’s “trick-or-treat” tradition. Young women believed that on Halloween they could divine the name or appearance of their future husband by doing tricks with yarn, apple parings or mirrors.

In the late 1800s, there was a move in America to mold Halloween into a holiday more about community and neighborly get-togethers than about ghosts, pranks and witchcraft. At the turn of the century, Halloween parties for both children and adults became the most common way to celebrate the day. Parties focused on games, foods of the season and festive costumes.

Parents were encouraged by newspapers and community leaders to take anything “frightening” or “grotesque” out of Halloween celebrations. Because of these efforts, Halloween lost most of its superstitious and religious overtones by the beginning of the twentieth century.

Halloween Parties    

By the 1920s and 1930s, Halloween had become a secular but community-centered holiday, with parades and town-wide Halloween parties as the featured entertainment. Despite the best efforts of many schools and communities, vandalism began to plague some celebrations in many communities during this time.

By the 1950s, town leaders had successfully limited vandalism and Halloween had evolved into a holiday directed mainly at the young. Due to the high numbers of young children during the fifties baby boom, parties moved from town civic centers into the classroom or home, where they could be more easily accommodated.

Between 1920 and 1950, the centuries-old practice of trick-or-treating was also revived. Trick-or-treating was a relatively inexpensive way for an entire community to share the Halloween celebration. In theory, families could also prevent tricks being played on them by providing the neighborhood children with small treats.

Thus, a new American tradition was born, and it has continued to grow. Today, Americans spend an estimated $6 billion annually on Halloween, making it the country’s second largest commercial holiday after Christmas.

READ MORE: Who Invented Candy Corn?

Halloween Movies

Speaking of commercial success, scary Halloween movies have a long history of being box office hits. Classic Halloween movies include the “Halloween” franchise, based on the 1978 original film directed by John Carpenter and starring Donald Pleasance, Jamie Lee Curtis, and Tony Moran. In “Halloween,” a young boy named Michael Myers murders his 17-year-old sister and is committed to jail, only to escape as a teen on Halloween night and seek out his old home, and a new target.

Considered a classic horror film down to its spooky soundtrack, it inspired 11 other films in the franchise and other “slasher films” like “Scream,” “Nightmare on Elm Street” and “Friday the 13.” More family-friendly Halloween movies include “Hocus Pocus,” “The Nightmare Before Christmas,” “Beetlejuice” and “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.”

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All Souls Day and Soul Cakes

The American Halloween tradition of trick-or-treating probably dates back to the early All Souls’ Day parades in England. During the festivities, poor citizens would beg for food and families would give them pastries called “soul cakes” in return for their promise to pray for the family’s dead relatives.

The distribution of soul cakes was encouraged by the church as a way to replace the ancient practice of leaving food and wine for roaming spirits. The practice, which was referred to as “going a-souling,” was eventually taken up by children who would visit the houses in their neighborhood and be given ale, food and money.

The tradition of dressing in costume for Halloween has both European and Celtic roots. Hundreds of years ago, winter was an uncertain and frightening time. Food supplies often ran low and, for the many people afraid of the dark, the short days of winter were full of constant worry.

On Halloween, when it was believed that ghosts came back to the earthly world, people thought that they would encounter ghosts if they left their homes. To avoid being recognized by these ghosts, people would wear masks when they left their homes after dark so that the ghosts would mistake them for fellow spirits.

On Halloween, to keep ghosts away from their houses, people would place bowls of food outside their homes to appease the ghosts and prevent them from attempting to enter.

Black Cats and Ghosts

Halloween has always been a holiday filled with mystery, magic and superstition. It began as a Celtic end-of-summer festival during which people felt especially close to deceased relatives and friends. For these friendly spirits, they set places at the dinner table, left treats on doorsteps and along the side of the road and lit candles to help loved ones find their way back to the spirit world.

Today’s Halloween ghosts are often depicted as more fearsome and malevolent, and our customs and superstitions are scarier too. We avoid crossing paths with black cats, afraid that they might bring us bad luck. This idea has its roots in the Middle Ages, when many people believed that witches avoided detection by turning themselves into black cats.

We try not to walk under ladders for the same reason. This superstition may have come from the ancient Egyptians, who believed that triangles were sacred (it also may have something to do with the fact that walking under a leaning ladder tends to be fairly unsafe). And around Halloween, especially, we try to avoid breaking mirrors, stepping on cracks in the road or spilling salt.

Halloween Matchmaking and Lesser-Known Rituals

But what about the Halloween traditions and beliefs that today’s trick-or-treaters have forgotten all about? Many of these obsolete rituals focused on the future instead of the past and the living instead of the dead.

In particular, many had to do with helping young women identify their future husbands and reassuring them that they would someday—with luck, by next Halloween—be married. In 18th-century Ireland, a matchmaking cook might bury a ring in her mashed potatoes on Halloween night, hoping to bring true love to the diner who found it.

In Scotland, fortune-tellers recommended that an eligible young woman name a hazelnut for each of her suitors and then toss the nuts into the fireplace. The nut that burned to ashes rather than popping or exploding, the story went, represented the girl’s future husband. (In some versions of this legend, the opposite was true: The nut that burned away symbolized a love that would not last.)

Another tale had it that if a young woman ate a sugary concoction made out of walnuts, hazelnuts and nutmeg before bed on Halloween night she would dream about her future husband.

Young women tossed apple-peels over their shoulders, hoping that the peels would fall on the floor in the shape of their future husbands’ initials; tried to learn about their futures by peering at egg yolks floating in a bowl of water and stood in front of mirrors in darkened rooms, holding candles and looking over their shoulders for their husbands’ faces.

Other rituals were more competitive. At some Halloween parties, the first guest to find a burr on a chestnut-hunt would be the first to marry. At others, the first successful apple-bobber would be the first down the aisle.

Of course, whether we’re asking for romantic advice or trying to avoid seven years of bad luck, each one of these Halloween superstitions relies on the goodwill of the very same “spirits” whose presence the early Celts felt so keenly.

[ladydracarysao3]

Nemesis of Neglect: A Dragon Age & Jack the Ripper Tale

Chapter Two

Disclaimer This is a canon divergent Dragon Age and True Crime mash-up of Kirkwall, and London’s notorious Jack the Ripper. It is a tale not for the faint of heart, but rather for the reader who wishes to ride a thrilling mystery of sex, deception, and murder.

[Read Chapter Two on AO3]  or  [Start with the Prologue]

Chapter Two

Hours filled with the sounds of Leandra and Carver mourning turn slowly throughout the day. Silently, Ian sits in her home and listens to her mother berate her and blame her for Bethany’s demise. Ian hasn’t the strength to object, in fact, she agrees. So, she listens and takes every hurtful word her mother cries, absorbing each one into her burden. Building blocks to strengthen her revenge. Steam to power her hate, both at herself and at Kirkwall.

Eventually, late in the evening, her mother loses the energy to continue and retires to her bedroom. All who reside in the house follow suit, and Ian lies awake in her bed, listening to the soft sobs coming from her mother’s room.

She stares at the top of her bed’s crimson canopy. She watches lights and shadows move along her stone walls, ghostly shapes haunting her from large bedroom windows. She listens to the low cracks of the wood in her small hearth after the sounds of her mother give way to exhaustion and sleep.

Death to conjurers.

The evil words repeat in her mind.

There are those who exhibit a talent in the conjuring of magic. The practice, whether natural to the person or not, is strictly forbidden by both governmental law and the law of the Maker. Those who are devout are especially zealous against anyone who may attempt at using their conjuring abilities, and the common people as a whole tend to view it as an evil and vile practice.

The self-righteous men Carver has involved himself with are some of those who think they fight against wickedness by hunting and imprisoning conjurers. Victims are rarely heard from or seen again, and those who do come back from the Templar’s hold are never the same people they once were.

The order is an unofficial, though widely accepted, special branch of the Chantry. The Chantry does not formally lay claim to the Templars, however it is one of those unspoken truths that everyone knows and most accept, even support.

Ian is not one of those supporters. She views them as a group of thugs acting as illegal enforcement for a religion. A view that was instilled in her since childhood by her father. For the reason her mother and father fled Kirkwall to begin with - where the gang of Templars is most cherished and rampant - was due to the fact that Malcolm Hawke was one of those souls who naturally took to magic. His resistance to religious persecution caused him to flee, his loving young bride in tow.

It made sense that Bethany would have inherited their father’s abilities, but she never spoke of it. Ian knew that she, too, held some talent for conjuring. However, while her father fled in order to practice his beliefs, he discouraged it from his children. To amplify or use one’s abilities was to risk one’s life. Dangerous, addictive, and highly guarded substances were sometimes involved, and Malcolm did his best to shield his children from the knowledge.

Malcolm used his own abilities far from home, often leaving to perform feats for both shady and legitimate organizations alike. He wanted a different life for his children, and he explained early on to Ian that while he saw potential within her, he wished for her to pursue a more normal way of life.

Funny how the wishes of parents work out for their offspring.

Ian followed her father’s wishes for the most part, in that course anyway. She never cared much to dabble in magic and worked on her other skills instead. She never assumed her siblings conjured, either. They never spoke of it. It was never a topic the family discussed at the dinner table. Instead, Ian held fast to ideals that opposed the Chantry and left it at that.

To think that Bethany could have been involved in magic, conjuring, bending the laws of physics with others like her… in the shadows of Lowtown…

Ian is aware of pockets, or perhaps covens, of people who practice in secret.

But Bethany?

If true, Ian knows less of her sister than she had ever imagined.

As dawn crests the smoky horizon over Hightown’s billowing black chimneys, Ian feels her mind returning. She has questions, and she’s found her voice to demand them answered.

It does not take her long to dress and storm to the city center. The Viscount’s Keep had barely unlocked its doors by the time Ian slams them open. A smattering of guardsmen and townspeople stand in the grand hall, most of whom stare wide-eyed at Ian as she marches past, startled by her loud and commanding entrance. Albeit, she has bloodlust in her eyes, there are still those in the city who find it hard not to stare when they see a woman in trousers walk by.

Quickly scaling the red carpeted marble steps at the end of the opulent hall, Ian veers toward Aveline’s office. Upon arrival, she does not knock, she does not announce herself, she whips the door open with such force that it slams into the wall making the office windows rattle.

“Why is my sister dead?” Ian demands, fists slamming onto Aveline’s large oak desk. “I want answers, Aveline.”

“Hawke,” Aveline says, slowly raising her eyes from the papers in front of her. Unlike the windowpanes, Aveline is not at all startled by the way Ian entered. It was not the first time Ian’s paraded through the keep in such a manner, in fact, it is her tendency.

The Guard Captain sighs and rubs her forehead with tense fingers. “I’m trying to figure that out.”

“Death to conjurers? What is that about, Bethany never mentioned--”

“I’m sorry to say, your sister was part of a group, a cult maybe. It seems she had magical talent that she kept secret.”

Ian slumps into a chair opposite Aveline’s desk. “Do you have any leads?”

“Unfortunately, hers was not the first murder of this nature,” Aveline admits with a drop to her shoulders.

“What are you saying, there have been others?”

“One. A man. Cut in a similar fashion with the same writing over his body.”

“Why hadn’t I heard of this, Aveline?” Ian shouts.

“Hawke, you of all people know that murder is no strange fate for those who haunt Lowtown. I had hoped it was an isolated incident. I kept the details hush in an attempt to not start a stir, or inspire others to be as gruesome.”

“And this man, he was also a conjurer? Are there other similarities?”

“Both had the message, both had their throats cut, and…” Aveline pauses and avoids eye contact.

“Tell me.”

“You no doubt noticed Bethany’s stomach. I received word from the medical examiner that… Oh, Hawke, I’m sorry.” She shakes her head, fingers once again finding purchase on the forehead that clearly plagues her with pain. “They took her womb.”

“Her womb? They took…” Ian’s voice trails off. That familiar sick feeling possesses her stomach. She feels the color leave her face, but she presses on with her questions, though her voice asks them in a weakened state. “What does that have to do with the man, or magic?”

“He had been castrated. I think it is another message of the killer’s. Even more gruesome than the writing.”

Ian ponders for a moment before her realization softly leaves her lips. “Reproduction. Eliminate conjurers entirely...”

“I’m afraid there will be more. So far, what we know is that he must be intelligent. Well-educated or with access, for him to have an understanding of anatomy, and also I think he works alone. He is either strong enough to quickly overtake his victims, or perhaps he lures them willingly. I cannot be sure which.” She pauses and watches Ian for a moment. “I want to keep this hush, Hawke. I do not want copycats or hysteria to strike our streets. I need to work this right. I have my best men going through the evidence, and I’ve been reviewing it constantly, trying to connect the dots. This all needs to be done above board, Ian. I can’t have chaos take over the investigation.”

“Aveline, people need to know. These groups of conjurers need to know they are in even more danger than normal. They have families. If I had known this, maybe I could have kept Bethany safe.”

“You didn’t even know she had magic.”

Like the pebble needed to tip the scales from sickness over to the favor of rage, Ian’s fury takes hold. In one swift movement, she slams her feet to the ground and launches her body so that her palms land on Aveline’s desk. She leans across it and sneers down at the Captain. “Well I do now, don’t I? Or at least whoever this monster is thought she was. Silence is a grave mistake. Who did she know, Aveline? Tell me.”

“I would kindly remind you that you are in the office of the Guard Captain, Hawke. You do not get to question me in such a manner, no matter our personal history, or your personal tragedy,” Aveline says. An underlying river of anger, a tremor of a warning lies within her tone.

Ian’s eyes scan the woman across her, curling her lip in a snarl. “Useless. The city guard have always been and always will be useless.” From her fists, she pushes herself upright and points to Aveline’s office window. “The little people of this city get no justice. And it’s due to the lack of care from this house that people like me even earn a living. Your men do nothing for them.” She shakes her head and turns to stalk out the door.

Aveline yells after her. “Do not take law into your own hands on this, Hawke! I’m warning you! I will not turn a blind eye to you this time! It is my duty!” The words fall on deaf ears. Ian has no trust in the government. If there was any control on this city, this wouldn’t have happened.

Her feet carry her through Kirkwall to the slums. The stark contrast between the care of the streets in Hightown, especially the Viscount district, and the laxity in Lowtown is even more apparent when traveled at once. No longer are trees and bushes decorating the clean cobblestone. No longer are there guardsmen patrolling in almost laughable numbers - whose main purpose seems to be helping the elderly society folk from their stately carriages, and knocking their billy clubs on rot iron fencing when rascal children get too loud.

None of that is present.

No, instead of wide avenues lined with beautiful estates, the streets turn smaller and smaller until bystanders and carriages alike have difficulty moving. Instead of greenery and fencing, there is filth and crates - poor folk standing with stolen baubles hollering at passersby to purchase their treasures for the lovely ladies at home. Instead of cobblestone that is swept by silent, invisible men, the streets begin to resemble more of rivers of mud, shit, and piss than anything else. And instead of kind guardsmen keeping order and helping the weak, one more likely will find them heckling or beating the numerous starving unfortunates in rags.

Ian follows the ruin to The Hanged Man. The inn happens to be the epicenter from dealings with those who do not wish to strictly follow the law. Law that has many times failed them all. If Ian wants to learn more about the underground groups of conjurers, and whom may wish them murdered, The Hanged Man is the best place to start.

It is also a place where she can have a drink to cut her nerves, and a meal that is more palatable. She’s never had much taste for higher cooking, peasant food is perfectly fine to her.

She orders the day’s mash with a stiff drink to accompany it, and she sits down at the end of a long wooden bench and a long wooden table.

She does not have to wait before her first visitor strides by.

“Ian,” a thick Rivaini accent purrs as slender tan fingers grip at Ian’s shoulders from behind. Lips trail so close to the shell of her ear that Ian feels them tickle her tiny hairs. “I am so sorry to hear about Bethany.”

“You know? Aveline said she was keeping it hush.”

“Oh please, you know that nothing stays hush in Lowtown, and certainly not from me,” Isabela says as she produces herself from behind, strutting slowly around the table to other side.

“How much do you know?” Ian asks as the woman sits.

Isabela smirks, her amber eyes peering coyly through fallen strands of thick, wavy black hair. “As much as there is to know, I suppose.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Sweet Bethany walked with the a new crowd. No matter how hard you worked to keep her from here, she was determined, apparently.”

“Why didn’t I know about this? Why didn’t you tell me?” Ian feels her anger rise in her chest. The city knew her, especially the folk of Lowtown knew that everything she did was to protect her family. People knew, yet didn’t bother to warn her of her sister’s secret, and it is becoming infuriating.

Isabela crosses her arms and tilts her head. “Listen, you spend so much time in that mansion of yours now, honestly, how am I supposed to have any idea what you know and don’t know anymore?”

Ian growls and glares across the table. “I am here at least two nights a week, Isabela.”

“Yeah, sure. Getting pissed and knocking out benders. But you’re not truly here. Not like you used to be.”

Ian speaks low, enunciating each syllable as if it is dripped in blood. “You should have told me.”

“And risk your fist coming at my head next? No, thank you.” Isabela scoffs. They sit silently for a moment, a war of the wills, but Ian’s glare bores a hole into Isabela’s sarcastic armor. Finally, the woman sighs in capitulation. “I’m sorry, Ian. If I had known this would happen to her, I wouldn’t have listened to her. I would have told you.”

That is a shock to Ian, and she feels a cold rush across her skin. “She talked to you about this?”

“Not in so many words, no. I found out a little of what she was up to and confronted her. She begged me not to tell you. She assured me that she had everything under control.”

“What do you know?”

“Not as much as it sounds, I’m sure, but I saw her talking to Merrill here a lot. That seemed a bit odd to me, especially since if she spotted you walk in, she vanished.”

Merrill is a known conjurer in Lowtown, and a unique one at that as she moved from a small clan of elves outside the city. It is fabled that her people have long mastered the art of exotic magics that Ian never cared to investigate.

Ian’s food and drink arrive. Everything feeling a little too much, and she grabs the mug of amber liquid and gulps it down so quickly that small rivers of whiskey stream down from the corners of her mouth.

“What did Bethany say to you?” Ian asks, wiping the corners of her mouth on her coat’s sleeve.

“Nothing much except to not tell you.”

Their conversation is interrupted by a drunk fool who strides up to their table. “Well aren’t you as pretty as pie... Except you,” the man says with a burp to punctuate it, pointing at Ian with a lazy finger. “What is it with you dressin’ like a man. One’d assume you like to fuck ladies like a man, too? Are you going to fuck--”

Ian chucks her empty mug at the drunk’s face, and before he can react, she is out of her seat and slamming his body to the ground. He lands with a loud thud, and she is on top of him in an instant. Her left fist gathers the garb at his neck, and her face hovers maliciously over his. The smell of his breath disgusts her, only intensifying her snarl.

“Assumptions are the lies of wicked demons in your ear,” Ian says in a low growl. “Now unless you want me to remove both of yours,” Ian’s right hand grabs hold of his ear and pulls until the man whines and writhes beneath her, “then I suggest you leave. My business is none of your own.”

“Hey, hey, Hawke. This is a little early for bar fights, even for you, don’t you think?” a raspy voice says beside them. Boots walk tentatively beside her head. Ian looks up to find the short-statured Varric Tethras standing over them. “Why don’t you let the man go and come sit with me in a my office, huh? Sound good? A little less violent, perhaps?”

Ian grunts and pushes herself off the drunk. She spits at the feet of the man before following Varric to his office in the rear of the tavern. She glances back, and with satisfaction, watches Isabela toss the sod out the tavern door and into the street.

Varric gestures for Ian to sit at his table in his personal room in the inn, and then shuts his door behind them. “How are you holding up, kid? To anyone else I’d say not very well, but that behavior isn’t exactly uncommon.”

Ian grunts again and slumps into one of his dwarven inspired chairs, geometric and sturdy by design with furs draped over the seat and arms. Varric sits at the head of the table and patiently waits while Ian stares into a roaring fire across from her.

“You loved her, how the fuck are you handling it?” Ian eventually grumbles.

Varric sighs. “I want to filet the bastard that did it.”

“Only if I gut him first.” There is a silence again until Ian adds, “Aveline thinks there will be more. We have to stop him.”

“Anything I can do to help, you just let me know,” Varric says, and he means it. The dwarf is probably the one man in this city with the most connections. He runs a rag called Bianca Knows that is tossed around the city. Legends swarm the streets about the dwarf, though Ian knows better. The most comical of the rumors being that he has actual ears on the walls of alleyways.

“You need to get the word out to anyone who may need it,” Ian says. “Aveline doesn’t want it in the papers, but you follow Lowtown’s rules.”

Varric nods. “Consider it done. I already drafted the story and sent it to my printer this morning.”

“Good. Let’s hope we get this guy before there is another Bethany.” Ian glances at Varric, noticing the way his gaze hangs in the air. The far-off stare of a man who is nowhere nearby. Instead, his mind drowns in a dimension of sadness and regret. It is well known how deeply he admired Bethany, though he never once acted on his feelings.

A soft knock at the door calls their attention, and Varric summons the person to enter. A young boy walks in, shaken, dirty, and obviously malnourished. He speaks with a tremor and his tattered gloved hand holds out an envelope like it could be his unfortunate ticket to the Maker. “I have a letter for M-M-Miss Hawke. A man gave me six coppers to deliver it right away.”

“What man, boy? Speak up,” Ian says as she takes the envelope from his hand.

“Don’t know, Miss. He was in the shadows. Face covered up with a scarf.”

“Where was this man now?” Varric asks.

The boy shrugs his shoulders and points to the far wall. “Called me from the alley by the inn, he did.” The boy looks between them both a few times and before turning and bolting from the room.

“Hey! Get back here!” Ian yells, but he’s gone. She hesitates and stares at the letter in her hand. Her curiosity for its contents ultimately outweighs her will to chase the child, and she opens the envelope to find red writing.

I know your Captain pet thinks she’ll have me. It gives me quite a thrill.

I am down on witches. Will rip them up till their foul wickedness reeks these streets no longer. Your sister was grand work, but I gave the lady no time to squeal. Saved a bit of her tainted blood to write this letter, though the stuff went thick. Red ink will have to do.

I’ve found I enjoy this venture more than I’d thought. First out of passion, second of lust, the next will follow and follow until the job is done. It is my calling.

Death to conjurers.

Ripper

Ian places the paper on Varric’s table. Whomever this Ripper is, he seems to know Ian, and knew he was killing her sister. If Ian had conviction before, it has now been increased ten-fold. She eyes Varric, his nervous wait apparent in the chewing of his lower lip and the wringing of his hands. Glancing back at the letter she says, “I need to speak to Merrill.”

[biofunmy]

Grammys 2020: Kobe Bryant’s Death Stuns Before the Ceremony

Lady Gaga and Beyoncé are early winners.

All but about eight of the Grammys’ 84 awards are given out before the television broadcast, in a separate “premiere” ceremony that is plagued by celebrity absences — but also features non-stars celebrating how a Grammy win can be a career-defining moment.

In the early awards, Lady Gaga surprisingly pulled ahead with two wins connected to her 2018 film “A Star Is Born.” It won best compilation soundtrack, and “I’ll Never Love Again” — written by Lady Gaga and three others — took best song written for visual media.

Lil Nas X’s “Old Town Road” took best music video, Beyoncé concert special “Homecoming” won best music film, and Michelle Obama won best spoken word album for the audio version of her book “Becoming.” Obama was not present to accept the honor; the jazz bassist Esperanza Spalding, a presenter, said, “I will proudly accept this on her behalf.”

News of Kobe Bryant’s death stuns the Grammys.

In the lead-up to the televised show Sunday afternoon, the news that Kobe Bryant died in a helicopter crash at 41 led to gasps in the press room. The Grammys take place at the Staples Center, where Bryant played his entire career with the Los Angeles Lakers; championship banners he helped the team win hang from the building’s rafters.

“In Staples Arena, where Kobe created so many memories for all of us, preparing to pay tribute to another brilliant man we lost too soon, Nipsey Hussle,” John Legend wrote on Twitter. “Life can be so brutal and senseless sometimes.”

Flags outside the arena were lowered to half-staff as preparations for the event continued, and lights shined on Bryant’s jerseys inside. Harvey Mason Jr., the chairman and interim chief of the Recording Academy, called for a moment of silence.

“Since we are in his house, I would ask you to join me in a moment of silence,” Mason said, The Associated Press reported.

Beyond the Grammy glitz, a battle is raging behind the scenes.

Intense drama hangs over the 62nd annual Grammy Awards ceremony on Sunday night, but not in ways that the Recording Academy, the nonprofit behind the show, would like.

This year’s event, which will be broadcast live on CBS at 8 p.m. Eastern, features a fresh crop of stars like Lizzo, Billie Eilish, Lil Nas X and Ariana Grande competing for the top awards. It was supposed to represent “a new era for the Recording Academy,” one that would be more attuned to pop’s current pulse after years of bruising criticism over the Grammys’ poor record in recognizing women and artists of color in the major categories.

That “new era” statement was made just two months ago, when nominations were announced, by Deborah Dugan, the academy’s new chief executive. She had been telegraphed as the bold new leader the Grammys needed, and came armed with an unsparing critique of the academy’s record on diversity by Michelle Obama’s former chief of staff, the Time’s Up leader Tina Tchen.

But just 10 days ago, Dugan was removed from her position, stunning the industry and plunging the normally cheery pre-Grammy week into mudslinging and chaos that has threatened to overshadow the event itself.

Dugan claimed in a 44-page complaint to the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission that she had been retaliated against for uncovering misconduct including sexual harassment, vote rigging and rampant conflicts of interest. The academy, in turn, said that an assistant had complained about a toxic and bullying work environment, and that Dugan had demanded a $22 million payoff to leave quietly, a charge Dugan has denied.

Their battle may stretch on for months. For the academy itself — and the artists now rehearsing their performances and acceptance speech shout-outs — the show must go on. But the entire music industry will be watching closely for any sign of artist dissent or any crack in the academy’s facade of celebratory glitz.

While artists have largely remained silent, one of the few public comments from a major industry figure came Saturday night from the hip-hop mogul Diddy.

Accepting an award at Clive Davis’s glamorous annual pre-Grammys party, Diddy avoided mentioning Dugan by name but held the academy’s feet to the fire over its failure to recognize hip-hop artists of color in the top categories. Over the last decade, for example, just one nonwhite artist — Bruno Mars — has won album of the year.

“Truth be told, hip-hop has never been respected by the Grammys; black music has never been respected by the Grammys to the point that it should be,” Diddy said. “For years, we have allowed institutions that have never had our best interests at heart to judge us. And that stops right now.”

He added: “You’ve got 365 days’ notice to get this [expletive] together.”

Lizzo leads a crop of young nominees.

For music fans, the Grammys are a television show about splashy performances and, oh yes, a handful of awards scattered across three and a half hours. There may be no mention at all of the academy’s behind-the-scenes crisis.

The biggest contests this year feature some of pop’s most dynamic young faces, many of whom went from obscurity to mega-stardom over the past year.

Lizzo, a charismatic and outspoken pop and R&B singer who has fascinated fans and critics alike, is this year’s most nominated artist, with eight nods. She and the 18-year-old alternative dynamo Billie Eilish, who has a total of six nominations, are each up in all four top categories — album, record and song of the year, and best new artist.

Lil Nas X, the internet meme virtuoso whose “country-trap” hybrid “Old Town Road” became a cultural phenomenon last year, is also up for six awards, including record and album of the year, and best new artist. If he wins big, it could be a statement by the academy’s voters that they want to shed their conservative reputation and fully embrace the most up-to-the-minute trends. That does not seem super likely.

Other big contenders include Ariana Grande, Lana Del Rey, Bon Iver and Vampire Weekend. Taylor Swift is up for just one major award: song of the year for “Lover.”

Big names will perform, but Taylor Swift is no longer one of them.

At the music industry’s schmoozy pre-Grammy parties last week in Los Angeles, the insider chatter has all been about Dugan versus the academy. But, for the most part, the events have been business as usual. Few people expect the show to be affected.

Still, a top musician signaling a position on Dugan’s claims could change the conversation entirely. Label executives and publicists have been wringing their hands over what their artists might be asked — and what they might say — on the red carpet or onstage.

And while the lineup of performers appears to be steady, the industry was riveted on Friday with reports that Swift would not appear. But why? Was Swift — always an outspoken backer of women — dropping out in protest, or was she simply unprepared or uninterested? Everyone, including fans and the most powerful people in music, was left to guess.

The performances planned for the show include tributes to Prince and the rapper Nipsey Hussle; an “Old Town Road All-Stars” segment with Lil Nas X, Billy Ray Cyrus, BTS, Diplo and Mason Ramsey, the so-called Walmart yodeling kid; and appearances by Grande, Eilish, Lizzo, Rosalía, Aerosmith, the Jonas Brothers and Tyler, the Creator.

The producer who shaped 40 years of Grammy shows says farewell.

This year’s show will be the last for Ken Ehrlich, who has produced the Grammys telecast since 1980 and is largely responsible for the show’s signature presentation style — the “Grammy moments” strategy of pairing artists together for special appearances, going back to Neil Diamond and Barbra Streisand doing “You Don’t Bring Me Flowers” 40 years ago.

Ehrlich has lived — and scrambled — through some of the Grammys’ most bizarre moments, like the “soy bomb” dancer crashing Bob Dylan’s performance in 1998. He has also frequently been the target of criticism that the show is out of touch and too often favors late-career stars at the expense of younger faces and more current nominees. Exhibit A: the 2018 show’s preponderance of Sting and absence of Lorde, who had been up for album of the year.

Ehrlich has always said that his mandate is to put on a varied and imaginative show, not simply to parade the current nominees. Viewers may consider that this year when he presents his swan song, a recreation of the ensemble performance of “I Sing the Body Electric” from the 1980 film “Fame,” featuring performances by Joshua Bell, Camila Cabello, Gary Clark Jr., Common, Misty Copeland, Lang Lang, Cyndi Lauper, John Legend and others.

Sahred From Source link Arts

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[kristie-rp]

[2016] If This Ain’t Love Then How Do We Get Out?

Prompt: Person A is immortal, person B is not. Yet for some reason, B keeps appearing at different points across A’s existence.

One.

The year is 398. He’s a predator, a nymphomaniac in a time where the very act is almost considered a crime – and the fact disgusts him and always will. He sees her, for the first time, a young woman. She’s maybe 16 years old, her curled brown locks are pinned out of a filthy face, hands covered in dirt. They are pressed to her side, though there’s so much grime that it takes a second glance for him to realize it’s a wound, pouring blood.

He comes to her side, because he’s a monster but he can still do the odd good deed. She flinches from his touch, the act tired, resigned. He ignores it. After affirming that the injury is more than painful, but also fatal, he lifts her clean off her feet, cradling her to his chest, heedless of the blood pooling on his skin. He talks for what feels like not long enough, though by the time he stops his voice is hoarse and she has long been still in his arms.

He puts the event out of his mind. Mortals die, after all. It’s not his fault he’ll outlive more strangers than he cares to count.

 Two.

The year is 471. He’s seen so many people die that he thinks nothing of causing them a moment of suffering, and when the mood takes him, he’ll do exactly that. This time the victim is an extortionist, a thief who demands a take of the profits of a hundred different starving people. He screams as he dies, and no one comes running.

The body turns cold as he examines what remains, running his hands through jewellery that can be traded for goods that’ll actually be useful. He pockets them when a knock sounds at the door, an obvious code; tap-tap-pause-tap-tap. He opens the door to a girl who cannot be older than 15, her gender evident even with her hair hacked short. Her face is bruised, her clothes torn, and her eyes keep darting behind him as she asks after the so-called ‘master’.

“Master’s gone, kid,” he says, because it’s technically true. “I am all that remains.”

They brush past each other as she struggles to make it as a petty thief, every encounter with her seeming thinner and thinner. He is reluctant to share his food until she takes ill, him finding her vomiting up whatever insubstantial meal she last ate. By then it’s too late, and for every morsel she manages to swallow, she spends far too many long minutes choking it back up.

She lasts a week like this. Eventually he can’t take her hacking any more, and he trades the last ring he’s saved from the master thief for an herbal remedy, guaranteed to end any ailment.

It turns out to be a strong poison; she slips away in her sleep. He feels a little guilty for that, but mostly he’s just pleased to finally get some sleep.

 Six.

The year is 626. He barely glances at the little girl as she runs out into the street, screaming for someone he cannot see. It’s instinct when he reaches out to grab her out of the way of a parade of horses only instants away from panic, but the panic isn’t abated at all when she suddenly screams something that he realizes sounds surprisingly like mâmân.

The word, he knows, means mother – the child is yelling for whoever cares for her. A glance across the road and, right there, beneath the hooves of the horses marching through is a woman who looks both like the child that he has in his grip, but also familiar – and, oh, he knows this woman, doesn’t he? Every time he has met her before, she has met her end with surprising speed. It seems she has collapsed in the road, and no one sought to stop the horses from trampling her, too stressed themselves from the Roman invasion of Persia, better men seeking to trample the empire of the older civilization. Their civilization.

By the time the horses pass, they and their riders answering the call of a war horn – the Romans are nearing the city, it means – the woman is definitely dead. Felix keeps the child in hand as he cautiously approaches, somewhat afraid of what he might see.

Being crushed is never a nice way to go, but he now knows for sure that this is the woman. He hesitates, bites his lip, because his is hardly a life fit for a child, and yet – “Do you have a father?” He asks, speaking stuttering Persian.

The girl looks up with wide, wet eyes, shakes her head wildly. “To the fight,” she explains, her voice shaking. “And never home.”

Felix sighs, cursing his essentially good heart. Looks like he’s going to take in the child of the most recent version of Talia, in spite of – or perhaps because of – all the trouble her blood will cause.

 Seven.

The year is 694, and the first time he meets her, he immediately tells her that no matter how fortune-deprived she seems to be, her children will always be great.

She squints at him and then kicks his leg. “Thanks,” she says immediately, “but no thanks.”

He realizes as she turns to go back into the crowd that it sounds like he thinks she’s a prostitute. Of course, she could be, she looks maybe ten years younger than last time – early twenties, perhaps – and this particular culture isn’t exactly picky of the ages, but she’s obviously a pickpocket. Again. At least she looks healthy this time.

He finds her later, him leaning against a wall where he guesses she’ll make her escape. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Quit following me,” she tells him, pushing past him. He catches her arm to stop her.

“Hear me out, Talia.”

She looks ready to hit him now. “Who told you my name?”

He stops, pauses. He actually hasn’t had to have this conversation before. Talia is typically friendly or near dead when they meet. He’s not sure if this is a string of bizarre coincidences, his bad luck, or hers. Or maybe good luck. Who knows? “You did – and I know it sounds insane, but – just, hear me out.”

He explains about being a sex demon. He explains about past lives and reincarnation. He neglects to mention the whole you are typically brutally killed in a variety of different ways part of her lives.

At the end of it, she calls him insane, but doesn’t call any officials to take him away. She isn’t even trying to get out of his reach any more. Shakes her head, tells him he’s the best storyteller she’s heard – but he thinks she knows it’s more than just a story.

He hopes so, anyway. It would explain her letting him in, next, letting them grow close.

When she dies this time, he has known her for fifteen years. She is the clumsiest, least coordinated person he’s ever met, tripping through doorways and frequently breaking dishes. The death is caused by a fire that he thinks started from the fire she lit in their fireplace. He mourns, a little bit. He did marry her, after all – he definitely feels something.

 Eighteen.

The year is 1352, and they almost have a – well, not a cure, but definitely something, so – a solution to the Black Death. Five years of panic, of terror, of higher and higher numbers of shut-ins and bodies in the gutter and corpse-eaters plaguing the streets, and it’s almost over.

Until of course it isn’t.

Talia falls ill. He knows her this time, knows her well, marries her, even, when it becomes clear that this is the best way to get her away from an abusive brother who has nearly killed her more times than he can count. And by now, he knows enough about her condition, knows her luck is seemingly cursed, to know she’ll come down with the disease.

And she does.

Ugly growths, black boils, high fever, vomiting blood, wheezing breath – she’ll be dead in a week. He thanks whatever force decided all those years ago that he should be demonic in nature – probably Satan, he thinks rather cynically – because it means he’s able to hold Talia while she still breathes, for once. If he has only a week left with her this time, he’s going to make the most of it.

 Twenty-two.

The year is 1587 and Felix has decided that he detests sailing, ships, and everything associated with the two, from the ocean to the wind itself. If not for Talia, currently his wife, clutching his arm and shivering, determined to see the new world appear on the horizon, he might have dived straight off the ship before it left port in England. Of course, now she’s ill – isn’t she always, in some way or other, always so unfortunate? – and the only protection he can find for her is a threadbare blanket that had been hers for the decade he’s known her, this time.

Roanoke sounds like a simultaneously terrible and blessed idea to Felix, and on his arrival he’s not surprised to observe more problems than he cares to count. For a start, this is the second incarnation in as many years – never a good sign. War breaks out between the English and the Spanish, and while both probably have a point, he begrudges their general for leaving them without the guard they deserved. There are only 115 of them, after all, many hailing from the city of London – of course the nobility and the wealthy had the first seats on the voyage. He certainly has no farming skills to speak of, though he’s regretting depending on Talia for energy, especially as she is still weak, even for a human. Even for her.

Not even a year in and the first settler disappears, no ships on the horizon. They go in the night, quietly, and it’s the next day when they realize that the head builder is gone. Felix bites his lip and elects to keep Talia close, closer than ever – she’s still so weak and fragile, after all. But he stays silent. She’s the one who did this for him, after all – she didn’t need the fresh start. Not this time. It was him the English were becoming suspicious of, him and his immortality, his unchanging face.

He’s cursing it three weeks later when there are only sixteen colonists, plus the infant Virginia, remaining. He’s the only one any good in a fight, everyone else is too shaky or weak – twelve of them are women, and three of the men have the illness that seems to shake Talia to the bone.

When they attack, they come in force. There is blood and dirt covering their skin, and he can smell it on them – the other colonists. He doesn’t know what they did, but the natives, the humans from the island to the south, clearly have had a key role in tearing apart their colony.

He tries to protect Talia, he does – but an arrow is a deadly thing, even against a demon, especially when well-aimed. It pierces her shoulder and he still doesn’t know how to help her. He resolves to learn, clutching her form to him in a perverse moment of déjà vu, physically snarling at the natives coming too close, letting his less human form show through, all sharp teeth and taloned hands and unnatural skin –

In the end, they take the other fourteen colonists and the infant Virginia, and he is left alone to apologise to a ghost for the umpteenth time. He doesn’t know why this keeps happening, why he lets it keep happening, keeps getting close to Talia despite the inevitable bad end.

He carves the word Croatoan into a post before he leaves the town, claiming one of their stupid little boats and taking Talia’s body away from the island, somewhere on the mainland to put her to rest.

 Twenty-three.

The year is 1624. He is reading a letter from December, addressed to him – how she tracked him down, he will never know – and is distracted from doing so by something included in the parcel. It is a miniature portrait, tiny and not at all clear to the eye. It’s definitely Talia.

There’s an aside in this letter, and he can just imagine December saying this over a cup of tea; This woman looks familiar, don’t you think? She was killed by a rogue Inferno. The villain is dead now, of course, but it was too late for the girl.

He frowns down at the letter, pens a reply in an instant, writes I shall have you know I have married that ‘girl’ no less than six times.

He doesn’t send that letter, of course. It mentions Talia. It’s probably unlucky.

Ha.

He knows it’s not that simple.

 Twenty-four.

The year is 1749 and Port Lyndon is little more than an idea. Well, we say that – we mean it has a grand total of one hundred and twelve permanent buildings and a population of roughly 2,200, most of whom lived in impermanent structures, in hobbled together shacks and tents.

Dante rises out of nowhere. He, it, a demon King, terrorizes the city. In eight years the population drops to four hundred, including new arrivals, people driven away by fear or murdered in the catastrophes Dante creates to entertain himself. Through this, Talia lives with Felix, who lives with December – when it becomes apparent that Port Lyndon is the worst place in the world to be right now, he guesses that she’ll be on the next ship in, and he’s right. She’s safe for – for not long at all, really, because she hasn’t been there for three years before Dante, in a moment of being, well, him, catches her when she is somewhere it’s simply not to safe, and because he’s – well, needless to say, the result is that she is pregnant.

Felix tries to be everything she needs. They hide it from December at the request of Talia, who idolizes the woman and doesn’t want her to think less of her. He’s always half in love with her when the opportunity arises, no matter how hopeless a gesture it happens to be, it’s been like this for more of her lifetimes than he likes to think. It causes things like Roanoke and the Black Death, when she could have been safely out of harms way. When December asks, Talia tells her that Felix is the father. Felix doesn’t correct her or try to argue. The way he sees it, this is safer for everyone.

December learns of the situation sooner than they had hoped. She ends up being part of the five-person group that perform the ritual that tears Dante down off his barbed throne, less than two weeks before Talia has estimated she is due – one of the five die, and the remaining four vow to eliminate any of his potential heirs. That is all anyone knows when December and two other women, neither of whom he recognizes but both of whom seem intent on their purpose, show up at the door a week later.

He bars them from entry, frowning when December and the darker woman look on him with pity. “I’m sorry, old friend,” December murmurs, “but she has to die. That thing she’s carrying cannot be allowed to live.”

“We’ll make it quick,” says the Asian one, and Felix tenses. He can take them. He’s a demon, for crying out loud, and maybe he’s a little deprived of sexual energy – what he gets from kissing Talia is nothing next to the energy of a sexually active couple – but these are still humans and a mere vampire, nothing more. Besides, he’s not convinced December will attack him, she has long been prone to sentiment.

Whatever he was planning to do to prevent them from entering becomes nothing but a memory as Talia calls out, a thud sounding as she finds somewhere to rest. Felix is quick to conclude that she is going into labor a week earlier than expected, and slams the door in the face of the three women, rushing to her side.

He barely notices that there is too much blood, running through what December had reluctantly taught him, tending to both the baby and to Talia. He wishes he could hold her hand but has to settle for placing a hand on her leg, tracing delicate patterns and waiting.

It’s the waiting that kills him. She keeps whimpering and crying out, and it must be the most painful thing she’s ever experienced, but at the end of it she gets to hold the baby girl, with the dark hair that can’t come from Talia, and the pale eyes. The infant could pass for his, if they weren’t already sold out.

Talia frowns up at him, demands an explanation. He just smiles and goes to make her tea, worrying quietly alone. Those three promised death, and it isn’t like December to go back on a promise. He doubts she’d associate with any other women who did. When he returns, she’s dozing. He wakes her to coerce her into taking a sip, quietly taking the baby from her arms for just a moment.

“It’s cold,” Talia says, almost contemplatively. He grabs her a blanket, then as many more as she requires. He’s almost relieved when she seems to fall asleep, cleaning up the mess quietly. It’s when the baby starts crying that he realizes they haven’t named the thing.

Shaking Talia isn’t enough to get her to wake up, and she’s cold to the touch. Freezing, even. He didn’t think she was this cold when she mentioned it earlier – hadn’t imagined this. He starts calling to her, worried now – how long as it been? How long has she been asleep? Is she asleep?

She’s not. He’s not stupid, he can tell when she’s asleep – and the fact that she’s not breathing is a dead giveaway.

It’s Felix that names the infant Victoria, but he can’t deal with babies, he doesn’t know how. But he knows how to hide things in plain sight, and just like that – like that, Victoria is safe from December and her cohort.

 Twenty-five.

The year is 1802 and he doesn’t intentionally resolve to find the girl, Talia. Despite this, he meets her before she is twenty years of age and is completely taken aback by her bleeding arms, mostly because it is immediately obvious that these weren’t the result of attacks, but of her own actions – the blade in her pocket is still bloody, staining the mens clothing she has donned – and, even more surprisingly, they don’t appear likely to cause immediate fatality.

A stroke of luck for her, apparently, as when he clutches her wrist to stop her from fleeing she doesn’t so much as whimper, instead looking him dead in the eye and demanding, as though he somehow has the answers, “What’s wrong with me?”

He doesn’t have any answers for her then, nor in the next six years they become and remain close. Quietly he researches her, because once is common, twice is a coincidence, but twenty-five encounters with the same woman, always distressed for one reason or other, always meeting a traumatic end – yes, he thinks this warrants research. He reaches out to a researcher he hears of, a woman who keeps multiple slaves and famously keeps them well. It turns out the researcher is December, who traded her papers for travelling to Roanoke two and a half centuries earlier to him for some ambrosia and demonic herbs. He still doesn’t know what she did with them, but now she claims she owes him – for who hasn’t heard of the disaster at Roanoke? – and her and what seems to be her favored slave, a lithe black girl with unnaturally coloured hair and bad eyesight, begin to hunt for the information he wants.

Talia takes her own life by hanging, a feat he is convinced was encouraged and even aided by a third party that both he and the guardsmen cannot guess at. It’s two weeks later that December contacts him with news from Intella, the slave, who has reached out to her contacts. “Some humans are cursed,” Intella tells him in perfect English, catching him off guard only because he expected an African dialect he’d have to translate. “And your Talia seems to bear one of the worst. A curse of misfortune – a serious one, powerful, to carry across lifetimes.”

Intella doesn’t seem too surprised by the idea of reincarnation, seeming to see it as a given. He supposes this simplifies the process of his understanding what has become of Talia. A curse of misfortune, indeed. A powerful witch likely cursed her in a fit of impassioned rage, according to Intella. “I don’t suppose you know what she did?”

He shakes his head numbly. The Talia he knows is unfailingly sweet, to varying degrees and despite the challenges she faces each lifetime – challenges he now attributes to a faceless curse. “Is there a way to end this?”

Intella raises an eyebrow at him. “Unless your witch is immortal or happened to describe a cure, I know no way you may end this.”

He supposes the bad news isn’t her fault. Even if it was, well – this version of Talia is dead already. There’s no sense in obsessing over it.

 Twenty-six.

The year is 1893 and he’s known for far too long what’s wrong with Talia. First time he sees her this time, he’s immediately at her side, becoming her ally, even her friend, and later her lover. She’s young this time, younger than he expected. There was a civil war, he supposes. Knowing her curse, she met an untimely end thirty years earlier. December is unerring in her support of their relationship.

His attention slips at an opportune moment. December, almost as old as he is though she hasn’t known him for longer than the time he’s known Talia, is left alone, her husband dead and gone from the world. She does everything in her power to bring back the dead, but the path she chooses requires a sacrifice.

Predictably, Talia’s cursed luck makes her the chosen target. Her life for Garett’s. As far as December sees, it’s a fair trade.

Felix, though, has always been the exception. He’s the one who stands up for Talia when she cannot stand up for herself instead of joining the line of people and circumstances that plot against her, and he’s the one who always tells December when her ideas are flawed. He stands between them, and December tells him in no uncertain tone, “If you don’t move, it’ll just be you instead of her.”

He bets on his immortality and refuses to give even an inch, ignoring Talia as she insists that she’s not worth this nobility. December uses the would-be fatal thing against him as she promised, a dagger prepared specifically for this ritual.

When awareness comes, his shirt is soaked in blood. Above him, a woman with a shaking voice is clutching an ornamental blade of the likes he cannot imagine being easy to wield, screaming, “It’s your fault, this is all your fault, you selfish bitch!”

He thinks she’d be quite pretty, if she wasn’t obviously furious and sad, all at once.

The screaming stops abruptly, and just like that there’s even more blood. He sits up in alarmed surprise, pale hands flailing towards her as she collapses, her own hands at her throat. This is when he notices the other woman in the room, all darkness and fury, a scythe in her hand dripping blood as if magically forced to be clean. He doesn’t know how she did it, but he’s certain that she’s the one who cut the other one’s throat.

She leaves, pausing only to sneer at him. He cannot imagine the cause of this kind of anger; he is far too preoccupied with the pretty young woman, bleeding out in his arms, and the sense of familiarity niggling at the edge of his vacant memory.

 Twenty-seven.

The year is 2022. He’s been alone for a long time – for too long. His memories are still absent; he only experiences them in dreams that he does not remember when he wakes. So instead, he drowns himself in alcohol, and yes, sometimes he’ll have a casual hookup. He does not remember that he needs this to live, does not make the connection that he always feels better afterwards, because mostly he’s just depressed and lonely and he writes the whole thing off as being caused by human touch.

He meets her this time on a park bench. She approaches him, intent in her gaze, sits beside him – and swipes the crappy beer he’d been nursing. “You’ve had enough,” she says, and promptly downs more than can be healthy for someone who doesn’t look like she should legally be drinking. Not in America, anyway. She must notice him looking, because she lowers the bottle and shoots him a look that’s a challenge in itself. “Before you get all uppity and nagging; I’m twenty-three.”

He doesn’t believe her, but then again, something feels familiar about her and he’s half-way to drunk and shouldn’t be making decisions of any sort. And besides, if he looks, he can see that her eyes hold something older than that.

He pointedly doesn’t look. Not that time.

Time passes – not years, but days, weeks. They become – he doesn’t want to say it, but it’s the best word for it – something like friends. She introduces herself as Talia, says she’s got terrible luck. “Y’know Fry on Futurama? Take ‘is ‘luck’ and square it, and that’s maybe a good day for me,” is how she describes it when he asks if he should be worried for his health, helping her limb down some stairs that she’s already tripped up that very day.

And then she ends up as his sort of – butler, maybe, screening anyone who seeks him out. It becomes a poorly kept secret that the best way to find Felix is to ask Talia, which leads, of course, to December. And the box.

The box is tiny. Well, comparatively – considering what’s inside could change everything. Photographs of a forgotten past, a note full of promises and half-truths, because December knows, after everything, that if her opening line is this is my fault she will get nothing out of either of the people she is interested in catching the trust of. It leads to the matching colds, to the hotel room, to the two staring at a box, to Felix showing just how much he trusts Talia now, to asking her just what she thinks he should do. Should he open the box? Should he let it lie?

Talia shakes her head. “’M apparently prone to bad decisions,” she says, “but I’d open it. Worse comes to worse and what happens? Death? That’s nothin’ compared to some things.”

He eyes her warily, because since when is Talia philosophical, the phrases from Decembers note swimming in his mind. I cannot make this decision for you, in the most aged handwriting he can remember.

Perhaps this is the answer after all.

[batneko]

#too late for the black plague too early for the black parade 😔

TOO LATE FOR THE BLACK PLAGUE TOO EARLY FOR THE BLACK PARADE

can't believe that skeleman has turned on us, and Halloween Prom is tomorrow.

(what a top-tier UM...we are about to be just totally obliterated in the absolute silliest way. what possible use could this power have outside of bringing us to the brink of utter holiday disaster.)

[rainebowkitty]

"Too late for the Black Plague, too early for the Black Parade," is a CRAZY line btw

can't believe that skeleman has turned on us, and Halloween Prom is tomorrow.

(what a top-tier UM...we are about to be just totally obliterated in the absolute silliest way. what possible use could this power have outside of bringing us to the brink of utter holiday disaster.)