#ulrik cold

[chernobog13]

Silver Warrior (1972) by Frank Frazetta.

This painting was used as the cover for The Silver Warriors by Michael Moorcock (published in the UK as Phoenix in Obsidian). It is the second book in Moorcock's trilogy featuring the Eternal Champion, Erekosë (the first being The Eternal Champion, and the third being The Dragon in the Sword).

Erekosë manifests in this adventure as Count Ulrik Skarsol, Lord of the Frozen Keep. He eventually arms himself with the Cold Sword, a more powerful version of Elric's evil, vampiric black sword Stormbringer (Elric also being an aspect of the Eternal Champion).

[gunthermunch]

[Transcript under the cut]

WG: hey punk what'cha looking at. catch this WG: man this side is empty. BOOM Morgyn clears their throat Ulrike: well, damn Lilith, telepathically: hey handsome Gunther: ( under his breath )hi Lilith Morgyn: We thank the gods and goddesses, our ancestors, and our friends and family for joining us here tonight. I'm Morgyn Ember, sage of Untamed Magic. And I’ll be officiating this wedding. Even if the bride doesn’t love the idea. Morgyn: Gunther and Lilith showed me something… unpredictable. How a heart made of feathers and one made of copper can not only fall deeply for each other, but also create tiny, adorable gifts both of life and unlife. Morgyn: so, I want this union to show everyone how incredible life can be. Morgyn: that being said, will the two of you honor each other’s strength and assist each other in your weakness? Gunther and Lilith: we will Morgyn: will you seek for each other’s pain and alleviate it? Gunther and Lilith: we will Morgyn: will you share the warmth where it is cold? Gunther and Lilith: we will Morgyn: then may these hands remain gentle to keep nurturing their beautiful days and nights, and may them stay strong to shelter, protect, and guide each other. May the universe protect this bond and let it defy death, and last over a lifetime. Morgyn: before these witnesses, and by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Gunther: I-I'm sorry, my hands are really sweaty Lilith: Gunther… Lilith: doi look like i care? Gunther: if you put it that way…

[thebramblewood]

Introducing... The Reapers: Isaiah Swain (vox/guitar), Myra "Rabbit" Rutherford (keys/vox), Nik Tham-Boon (drums), Ange Northwood (bass), and Ulrike Faust (guitar), with Helena Zhao as the ultimate groupie and some guy mutilating the sound.

Bonus and transcript under the cut!

@sims4thehoes I used one of your bases as the sound guy! 😘

Previous / Next

Isaiah: [taps] "Is this thing even on?"

screeeeeeeeech

Ulrike: "How hard can it be to adjust the fucking levels?!?"

Rabbit: "I will come over there and rip those controls from your COLD DEAD HANDS!"

Ange: [glowers silently]

Nik: [crash!BANG!smash!CLANG!]

Some Guy: "Uh... yeah. So what were you guys asking for again?"

Helena: "Let me in that booth, you imbecile! I don't have a clue about sound engineering, and I bet I could still do it better than you!"

Ulrike: "That's my girl."

[rinverno]

On the one hand, I totally get the appeal of artsy, laid-back goth!Ulrike, but on the other, I have this very specific, self-indulging idea of her being a digital artist (unlike, say, Holly Alto or Alice Spencer-Kim who are more of a traditional type) with a love for photography and the mentality of a feral black cat, who's also been 'stuck' in her moody pop punk era way longer than she likes to admit.

Oh and she's definitely watched one too many zombie apocalypse movies/played too many survival horror games to always pick her outfits for the *occasion* (you never know...).

cc under the cut!

⟡ general: hair | tattoos | ear piercings | nails

⟡ everyday: top | jacket | pants | boots | belt (mesh) | camera

⟡ formal: shirt | pants | shoes | choker ('Anise')

⟡ athletic: hoodie & joggers | sneakers (ea) | headphones | fanny pack

⟡ sleep: tee | sweatpants | slippers (ea)

⟡ party: shirt (mesh) | pants | boots | bag

⟡ swimwear: top & bottom | sunglasses

⟡ hot weather: top | bra acc | shorts | sneakers | bag

⟡ cold weather: jacket | jeans | boots | gloves

thank you cc creators! @cosmiccs4 @herbalia @oydis @arethabee @kismet-sims @charonlee @glumbut @sforzcc @madameriasims4 @jius-sims @dansimsfantasy @serenity-cc @lumysims @pralinesims @fukkiemon @simkoos @the-crypt-o-club @simandy @clumsyalienn @drosims @caio-cc @sentate @its-adrienpastel @casteru @wistfulpoltergeist

[princesssarisa]

Opera on YouTube

I've shared links to complete opera performances before, but I love to share them, so I thought I'd make a few masterposts.

These list are by no means the only complete filmed performances of these operas on YouTube, but I decided that ten links for each opera was enough for now.

By the way, some of the subtitles are just a part of the video, while others require you to click CC to see them.

Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute)

Hamburg Philharmonic State Opera, 1971 (Nicolai Gedda, Edith Mathis, William Workman, Christina Deutekom, Hans Sotin; conducted by Horst Stein; English subtitles)

Ingmar Bergman film, 1975 (Josef Köstlinger, Irma Urrila, Håkan Hagegård, Birgit Nordin, Ulrik Cold; conducted by Eric Ericson; sung in Swedish; English subtitles)

Salzburg Festival, 1982 (Peter Schreier, Ileana Cotrubas, Christian Bösch, Edita Gruberova, Martti Talvela; conducted by James Levine; Japanese subtitles)

Bavarian State Opera, 1983 (Francisco Araiza, Lucia Popp, Wolfgang Brendel, Edita Gruberova, Kurt Moll; conducted by Wolfgang Sawallisch; English subtitles)

Metropolitan Opera, 1991 (Francisco Araiza, Kathleen Battle, Manfred Hemm, Luciana Serra, Kurt Moll; conducted by James Levine; English subtitles)

Paris Opera, 2001 (Piotr Beczala, Dorothea Röschmann, Detlef Roth, Desirée Rancatore, Matti Salminen; conducted by Ivan Fischer; no subtitles)

Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, 2003 (Will Hartman, Dorothea Röschmann, Simon Keenlyside, Diana Damrau, Franz Josef Selig; conducted by Colin Davis; no subtitles) – Act I, Act II

La Monnaie, Brussels, 2005 (Topi Lehtipuu, Sophie Karthäuser, Stephan Loger, Ana Camelia Stefanescu, Harry Peeters; conducted by René Jacobs; French subtitles)

Kenneth Branagh film, 2006 (Joseph Kaiser, Amy Carson, Benjamin Jay Davis, Lyubov Petrova, René Pape; conducted by James Conlon; sung in English)

San Francisco Opera, 2010 (Piotr Beczala, Dina Kuznetsoca, Christopher Maltman, Erika Miklósa, Georg Zeppenfeld; conducted by Donald Runnicles; English subtitles)

La Traviata

Mario Lanfrachi studio film, 1968 (Anna Moffo, Franco Bonisolli, Gino Bechi; conducted by Giuseppe Patané; English subtitles)

Glyndebourne Festival Opera, 1987 (Marie McLaughlin, Walter MacNeil, Brent Ellis; conducted by Bernard Haitink; Italian and Portuguese subtitles)

Teatro alla Scala, 1992 (Tiziana Fabbricini, Roberto Alagna, Paolo Coni; conducted by Riccardo Muti; English subtitles)

Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, 1994 (Angela Gheorghiu, Frank Lopardo, Leo Nucci; conducted by Georg Solti; Spanish subtitles)

Teatro Giuseppe Verdi, 2003 (Stefania Bonfadelli, Scott Piper, Renato Bruson; conducted by Plácido Domingo; Spanish subtitles)

Salzburg Festival, 2005 (Anna Netrebko, Rolando Villazón, Thomas Hampson; conducted by Carlo Rizzi; no subtitles)

Los Angeles Opera, 2006 (Renée Fleming, Rolando Villazón, Renato Bruson; conducted by James Conlon; English subtitles)

Opera Festival St. Margarethen, 2008 (Kristiane Kaiser, Jean-Francois Borras, Georg Tichy; conducted by Ernst Märzendorfer; English subtitles)

Teatro Real di Madrid, 2015 (Ermonela Jaho, Francesco Demuro, Juan Jesús Rodríguez; conducted by Renato Palumbo; English subtitles)

Teatro Massimo, 2023 (Nino Machiadze, Saimir Pirgu, Roberto Frontali; conducted by Carlo Goldstein; no subtitles)

Carmen

Herbert von Karajan studio film, 1967 (Grace Bumbry, Jon Vickers; conducted by Herbert von Karajan; English subtitles)

Vienna State Opera, 1978 (Elena Obraztsova, Plácido Domingo; conducted by Carlos Kleiber; English Subtitles)

Francisco Rosi film, 1982 (Julia Migenes, Plácido Domingo; conducted by Lorin Maazel; English subtitles)

Metropolitan Opera, 1987 (Agnes Baltsa, José Carreras; conducted by James Levine; English subtitles)

London Earls Court Arena, 1989 (Maria Ewing, Jacque Trussel; conducted by Jaques Delacote; English subtitles)

Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, 1991 (Maria Ewing, Luis Lima; conducted by Zubin Mehta; English subtitles) – Acts I and II, Acts III and IV

Arena di Verona, 2003 (Marina Domashenko, Marco Berti; conducted by Alain Lombard; Italian subtitles)

Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, 2006 (Anna Caterina Antonacci, Jonas Kaufmann; conducted by Antonio Pappano; English subtitles) – Acts I and II, Acts III and IV

Metropolitan Opera, 2010 (Elina Garanca, Roberto Alagna; conducted by Yannick Nézet-Séguin; English subtitles) – Acts I and II, Acts III and IV

Opéra-Comique, 2023 (Gaëlle Arquez, Frédéric Antoun; conducted by Louis Langrée; English subtitles)

La Bohéme

Franco Zeffirelli studio film, 1965 (Mirella Freni, Gianni Raimondi; conducted by Herbert von Karajan; English subtitles)

Metropolitan Opera, 1977 (Renata Scotto, Luciano Pavarotti; conducted by James Levine; no subtitles)

Teatro alla Scala, 1979 (Ileana Cotrubas, Luciano Pavarotti; conducted by Carlos Kleiber; no subtitles)

Opera Australia, 1993 (Cheryl Barker, David Hobson; conducted by Julian Smith; Brazilian Portuguese subtitles)

Teatro Regio di Torino, 1996 (Mirella Freni, Luciano Pavarotti; conducted by Daniel Oren; Italian subtitles)

Teatro alla Scala, 2003 (Cristina Gallardo-Domâs, Marcelo Alvarez; conducted by Bruno Bartoletti; Spanish subtitles)

Zürich Opera House, 2005 (Cristina Gallardo-Domâs, Marcello Giordani; conducted by Franz Welser-Möst; no subtitles)

Robert Dornhelm film, 2009 (Anna Netrebko, Rolando Villazón; conducted by Bertrand de Billy; no subtitles)

Opera Australia, 2011 (Takesha Meshé Kizart, Ji-Min Park; Shao-Chia Lü; no subtitles)

Sigulda Opera Festival, 2022 (Maija Kovalevska, Mihail Mihaylov; conducted by Vladimir Kiradjiev; English subtitles)

[mannylikessims]

The True Story of the Villareal Family [3.5]

prev // home // next

Max was bored.

He had already yelled insults at the other children in the pool, replaced the Paragons’ coffee beans with weevils, and made an adult woman cry asking her if she was pregnant or just fat, but he was still bored.

He agreed with the Paragons about one thing – the people at the Windenburg community pool were peasants. Boring, insipid peasants. None of them brought him the joy that Lord Bernard’s ghost did; there was something so deeply satisfying about rankling that old fart.

He missed Bernard.

Someone swam up to him, and he begrudgingly faced her.

“Hey Max,” said Morgan, one of his fellow Renegades. “Can we talk?”

“Ugh, fine,” he sighed,

and followed her out of the pool.

“What do you want?” he said. The worst part about running the Renegades was listening to their complaints.

“Well, it’s just that, the Renegades have been kinda unhappy,” began Morgan. “Some of us feel like you don’t really care about us–“

“We’re Renegades, we’re not supposed to care about anything,” interrupted Max.

“–yeah, ok, but we’re supposed to at least care about each other. When was the last time you asked how Ulrike and I are doing?”

Max scoffed.

“And Wolfgang? Something is up with Wolfgang. He keeps smiling.”

“So?”

“It’s Wolfgang. He never smiles.”

Max glared silently, his nostrils flaring, and his next words were cold and dangerous. “Are you questioning my leadership?”

Morgan grimaced. “No, I’m just saying, we should be considerate of what people in our club are feeling–“

“Plum that!”

She gasped. Where did he learn such language??

“I’m the leader!” spat Max. “You all listen to me, ok?!”

Morgan was too shocked to reply.

Max stormed away, and Morgan was left behind, speechless and fuming.

────────✦───────

prev // home // next

[alexanderpearce]

FOILED AGAIN! my ass going to strahan

skinny dipping at the alexander pearce escape point

[belkawriter]

Looking at the blue fingers and protruding veins, Route stared at Ulrik.

— So cold… What kind of crap is this? - he whispered, pursing his lips.

— I'm telling you… A small side effect. It's okay, it goes away in a week.

— A week? - Route asked louder.

— Quiet, Aron can hear us.

— Ulrik, what the hell is this? What do you make medicine from?

— Doesn't matter.

— Answer.

— From my blood, - he whispered. - I discovered that with certain procedures and filtration, it is possible to extract particles that provoke healing.

— I thought you were just staying up for a long time, - Route said, looking again at the bruises under his eyes. - How much blood do you take?

— A little.

— How much? - he asked again.

—You shouldn't worry about that.

— Are you deaf?

— Maybe you're the one who's deaf? - Ulrik answered and chuckled. - I said you shouldn't worry about it. I have regeneration, I will recover. Remember?

— I remember, - Route muttered and squeezed his palms. - Let me warm your hands, otherwise Aron will freeze if you want to hug him.

— Okay, - he agreed. - Thank you.

Frowning, Route looked down and fell silent.

— Hey, I'm fine, - Ulrik said. - Really.

— Uh-huh.

— Please don't be angry.

— Someday you will learn to distinguish between when I am angry and when I am worried.

— You get angry when you worry about me, that’s all.

[slugtrait]

night has fallen on the dense forests of henford - on - bagley, and with it, a sharp chill that slices it’s way through air before settling on ulrike’s skin and seeping into her bones. it does little to cool off the enormous, destructive heat of her fury.

there’s something different about this change tonight, though. she’s got too many thoughts in her head and she barely has a grip on her career, her fame, and her family. nothing is going right and everything might just be simpler if she just — gave in.

the beast inside of her growls, a throaty sound of agreement. her veins are fire and her skin boils, steam seeming to rise from her pores in the cold night. she throws her head back, wild eyes spotting the full moon above her, and she lets out a howl.

this isn’t any ordinary howl, however. this is something more primal, more urgent. this is a lunar howl, the only howl that ulrike had read never to do, unless you knew you were ready. and here she was, sure and unsure all at the same time, but wholly desperate to feel some kind of satisfaction in her life. and if the full moon and her fury was the only ones to supply that, well then that would just have to be the way.

[psycho-scribbler]

and here's part two yiaaaa

Flytrap

Part one: The Flies (2nd entry)

I woke up with way more sleep goo in my eyes than usual.

I sat up with a sigh, sweeping my legs over the side of the bed as I rubbed the goop out of my eyes.

At this point I’d spent roughly four months in the house, I’d gotten used to a new routine and spent my days editing papers for work and selling tiny handmade trinkets as I listened to music and podcasts.

It was calm and cozy, though I did miss meeting up with all my friends back in the city. I knew for sure that we’d have a blast playing D&D out here in the woods, but that meant cleaning out the all too creepy basement, which I wasn’t very inclined to do at the moment.

But I’d done a bunch of other stuff: I’d renovated the kitchen with the help of my two gym bro buddies Nathan and Ulrik, and my bestie Anna had come over to help me set up fairy lights all over the house while we shared the latest gossip and some herb tea.

Other than that, I’d called a locksmith to replace the locks right away and a carpenter to help me replace the floor.

But that hadn’t worked quite as expected.

In fact, I was just now getting up to go grab a coffee and call the carpenter again, to see why he’d been so damn reluctant to come here and help me with the creaky floor.

I got up from my bed and put on some wooly socks and a thick hoodie, refraining from putting on any pants.

I hadn’t shaved in a long while, so the hair and gradual cold had toughened up my skin a bit. I could stand the cold a lot better now, but I still got cold feet during the night. And an increase in nightmares, surprisingly.

After checking the clock - it was 8 AM, almost 9 - I left my room and turned right down the corridor that led to the kitchen and living room.

The place was pretty big for a log cabin, and I could easily house both my friend groups in the kitchen and living room alone. Both groups were around seven people each, so it was pretty spacy here.

But now that I was alone, it almost felt a little… unnerving.

The space was so open and empty, yet the walls of the house buzzed with life from the outside, leaving the inside perhaps warm but almost feeling unsettled… even when I was living here. I couldn’t help but feel that I was out of place, despite everything I’d done to make this place my own.

I could manipulate the material, but I couldn’t change the mold. If anything, I was the one who had to change to fit in.

But I ignored that and started the coffee maker, beginning to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich.

As the coffee brewed and the sandwich was left without the top layer of cheese, I grabbed my laptop and phone and pulled up the number of the local carpenter in the nearby town, as well as a carpeting company my dad had recommended once I’d told him about the issue with the creaky floors.

They seemed to be creaking even when I was in bed, as if there was something underneath. I was a little paranoid that there might be animals under there, but I wasn’t too worried.

I decided to call the carpenter after the breakfast was finished. Then I’d probably be friendlier, too - it was already 10 AM, and I wasn’t much of a morning person.

But, well… now I was reminded of that small but infinitely fucking annoying problem that’d been plagueing me since the beginning of spring.

Two green-shimmering flies were perched atop my half-finished sandwich. I’d left those slices of bread and cheese on the counter for just a mere three minutes, and the pests were already descending upon my food.

I let out a sigh and waved the flies away, thinking I would just be dealing with the fact that two of those disgusting critters had sat on the food I was going to eat. But once I picked the sandwich up, I could see that there actually were dirty spots on the ham now, so I threw away that slice and finished up the sandwich before putting it in a frying pan.

Then I was crudely reminded that I’d forgotten to put a cup in the coffee machine, so some of the precious chocolate-colored liquid was lost to the coffee catcher.

‘Goddamnit’, I muttered, turning back to my sandwich before it got burnt or something. Had my memory gotten worse, or was I just clumsier than usual?

It didn’t take long to finish up my breakfast, and then I could sit down at the dinner table with a less-than-full cup of coffee, a fly-tainted grilled cheese, and a decreasing level of patience as the ring of an unanswered phone call beeped over and over. The fucking carpenter wouldn’t answer. Again.

‘Well, guess I’m gonna have to call that company’, I sighed lightly, putting down my phone to search it up on my laptop. Lucky for me, it was actually charged. At least I had that going for me.

‘Hi, thank you for calling Nordic Quality Builds, what can I do for you today?’ A slightly shrill female voice said.

‘Hello. I’d like to book a carpenter to check out the floors in my house. They’re all creaky, even when no one’s walking around, and it’s becoming a real pain in the ass.’

‘Sounds horrible, sir’, the woman said. I scoffed.

‘Ma’am’, I corrected her. Insane how people mistook my voice for being male - guess it just was that deep.

‘I apologize, ma’am’, the lady quickly said.

‘I just need someone to come over and see if it’s possible to fix the creaking without too much work, so-’

‘I’m sorry, are you the new owner of the Stockthorne house down in Ramhulta?’

‘Yes’, I answered, slightly annoyed. What was the deal now? Was she also going to decline my request and ghost me? I just wanted to walk around on floors that didn’t creak, goddamnit.

‘I’m sorry ma’am, the previous owner strictly told us not to do any renovations on his house’, the lady said apologetically. ‘I don’t know why, but I haven’t heard of any construction company that was ever allowed to work on that house. He’s a bit infamous for that, that man.’

I let out a sigh. ‘So I can’t get anyone to help me get rid of the creaking?

‘Unfortunately, I think not, ma’am. But have a good day, regardless.’

I hung up and leaned back in my chair with another sigh, grabbing my cup of coffee and taking a sip.

So I couldn’t get rid of the creaking floors. I sure as hell wasn’t doing it on my own, not until summer. Then my friends and family would have more free time to come help me out rather than now.

Well, I did want to get the pipes fixed. The water pressure had been pretty low, but maybe I could fix that myself instead of paying someone to do it. The more I learnt to do myself, the better.

But now I had to get to working. I had a long day ahead of me.

[deasims4stories]

Angry in lingerie, on a summer power cutoff day, with an ice cold beer, two hours before a new sim legally and fully joins the polycule. Hooooo boy.

Mae took some shots before the guests arrive.

A lovely Windenburg wedding! The only issues were the height mod Indigo and Ulrike bonking heads during their kiss and guests throwing rice in the wrong place, but just before the celebratory water balloon fight, Clement Frost serenaded everyone unexpectedly!

...then Ulrike immediately aged to adult.

Indigo is just a little bit sunburned today from that water balloon fight.

[thebramblewood]

Ulrike's Big Night, Part I

Previous / Next

Transcript under the cut.

Helena: “Enough stalling, Faust! At this rate, it’ll be over before we reach the front door.”

Ulrike: “Patience, Zhao. One should never enter the hornet’s nest stone-cold sober.”

Helena: “You make it sound like torture. I thought art was, like, your reason for existing.”

Ulrike: *sighs* “It’s the art itself that matters to me, not the bullshit surrounding it. Sadly, participation is required if you ever want your real art to be seen.”

Helena: “Well, if you’re intent on getting through this thing stoned, I can’t in good conscience let you do it alone. Now, hand that over.”

Ulrike: “Let’s just get this over with.”

Helena: “You won’t even give me a hint?”

Ulrike: “Nope. But they wanted postmodern and I think I outpostmoderned everyone here by a mile.”

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 5.14 (after 1940)

1940 – World War II: Rotterdam, Netherlands is bombed by the Luftwaffe of Nazi Germany despite a ceasefire, killing about 900 people and destroying the historic city center. 1943 – World War II: A Japanese submarine sinks AHS Centaur off the coast of Queensland. 1948 – Israel is declared to be an independent state and a provisional government is established. Immediately after the declaration, Israel is attacked by the neighboring Arab states, triggering the 1948 Arab–Israeli War. 1951 – Trains run on the Talyllyn Railway in Wales for the first time since preservation, making it the first railway in the world to be operated by volunteers. 1953 – Approximately 7,100 brewery workers in Milwaukee perform a walkout, marking the start of the 1953 Milwaukee brewery strike. 1955 – Cold War: Eight Communist bloc countries, including the Soviet Union, sign a mutual defense treaty called the Warsaw Pact. 1961 – Civil rights movement: A white mob twice attacks a Freedom Riders bus near Anniston, Alabama, before fire-bombing the bus and attacking the civil rights protesters who flee the burning vehicle. 1970 – Andreas Baader is freed from custody by Ulrike Meinhof, Gudrun Ensslin and others, a pivotal moment in the formation of the Red Army Faction. 1973 – Skylab, the United States' first space station, is launched. 1977 – A Dan-Air Boeing 707 leased to IAS Cargo Airlines crashes on approach to Lusaka International Airport in Lusaka, Zambia, killing six people. 1980 – Salvadoran Civil War: the Sumpul River massacre occurs in Chalatenango, El Salvador. 1987 – Fijian Prime Minister Timoci Bavadra is ousted from power in a coup d'état led by Lieutenant colonel Sitiveni Rabuka. 1988 – Carrollton bus collision: A drunk driver traveling the wrong way on Interstate 71 near Carrollton, Kentucky hits a converted school bus carrying a church youth group. Twenty-seven die in the crash and ensuing fire. 2004 – The Constitutional Court of South Korea overturns the impeachment of President Roh Moo-hyun. 2004 – Crown Prince Frederik of Denmark and Mary Donaldson are married at Copenhagen Cathedral. 2004 – Rico Linhas Aéreas Flight 4815 crashes into the Amazon rainforest during approach to Eduardo Gomes International Airport in Manaus, Brazil, killing 33 people. 2008 – Battle of Piccadilly Gardens in Manchester city centre between Zenit supporters and Rangers supporters and the Greater Manchester Police, 39 policemen injured, one police-dog injured and 39 arrested. 2010 – Space Shuttle Atlantis launches on the STS-132 mission to deliver the first shuttle-launched Russian ISS component — Rassvet. This was originally slated to be the final launch of Atlantis, before Congress approved STS-135. 2012 – Agni Air Flight CHT crashes in Nepal after a failed go-around, killing 15 people. 2021 – China successfully lands Zhurong, the country's first Mars rover. 2022 – Ten people are killed in a mass shooting in Buffalo, New York.

[hoerbahnblog]

"True Crime – Starnberger See" – Ulrike Hofmann spricht mit Steven Lundström über offene Enden und Cold Cases

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text] “True Crime – Starnberger See” – Ulrike Hofmann spricht mit Steven Lundström über offene Enden und Cold Cases Ulrike Hofmann liest aus “True Crime – Starnberger See” Hördauer ca. 26 Minuten https://literaturradiohoerbahn.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/08/HoS-UC-Hofmann-True-Crime-Lesung-upload.mp3 Gespräch zwischen Ulrike Hofmann und Steven Lundström Hördauer ca.…

[fro-nooboo]

eliza and bob were having issues and separated. bob moved out, eliza stayed in the house, she met ulrike during a hike she took up in windenberg. they hit it off, eliza invited ulrike back to her place for some tea, and oh you have a hot tub may i try it?, of course you can! let me get it started, my even with this hot water it's still too cold should we get closer? ... well we must wash off the chlorine—

[mitsmebinch]

Ghosts

“Is she down there?” Ulrik asked, staring into the water for a moment before turning to face Ellen. She stood further back from the water, flanked by two hedges that towered over her head, hands clenched around the small notebook she held. He frowned, watching as her eyes tracked something ethereal through the air, invisible to all eyes but her own. “Ellen?”

She didn’t answer, tranced in horror at the being in front of her, a woman whose face was fixed in a scream of anguish and fear, her skin bloated and gray. Her breath caught in her throat, sweat forming along her forehead.

“Ellen.”

The dead woman’s hand floated towards Ellen’s face, pleading for help to right the wrong that had been committed here is this abandoned garden.

“Ellen,” Ulrik repeated once more, wrapping his hand over his companion’s eyes as they began to water, pulling her from the edge of the pool where the phantom had been coaxing her.

Ellen flinched before swallowing slowly, pulled back to the reality in front of her. “She’s… yes, she’s there.”

“How did she die?” he continued, forcefully guiding her away from the deep pool.

“She died there,” Ellen pursed her lips, “She was probably thrown in. She…” her voice trailed off as she came to an abrupt stop, looking at one of the crumbling statues pensively. “She was pointing at something.”

She frowned when Ulrik tried to keep her from returning the way they had come. “I need to see what she was trying to show me.”

His frown deepened but he relented, releasing her shoulders and following after her.

She arrived back at the edge of the pool, taking shaky steps towards the phantom until it once again drew its finger up to her eye level. Ellen twisted, trying to line up what the ghost so desperately was trying to show her.

“... There’s something there,” she finally spoke, squinting at the ground near one of the overgrown hedges. “Something metal.”

Ulrik walked over to the hedge in question, glancing over at Ellen before kneeling and digging his fingers into the dirt to unearth a rather new looking button. “This?”

Ellen looked back to the spirit, watching as her bloated fingers clenched and squeezed in anger. “That’s it. Give it to me.”

Again, Ulrik’s face made clear he wanted to ignore the request, but tossed it over to her all the same.

“Agatha, is th-” the air was knocked out of Ellen’s lungs as the phantom swarmed around her, its presence clogging her nose and mouth with the cold reminder of its demise, suffocating her in the dead woman’s memory of drowning as she attempted to swim to the surface of the water, the night so dark she couldn’t tell up from down in the murk her feeble kicks were stirring up.

The dying woman had screamed for help, over and over, pleading for the help of the man who had thrown her in, a single name ringing so true in her ears Ellen was certain someone had said it aloud.

“Ellen!” another voice shouted, pulling her from the ghost’s dream and back to her own reality, staring down at her convulsing body. “Can you hear me?!”

She coughed, vomiting water and mud until she could only wretch. “James,” she finally muttered. “She was calling for someone named James.”

“His own sister, huh,” Ulrik sighed, turning her in his arms so she could cough the rest of the water out of her mouth. “And to think he requested his Grace to solve her murder himself,” he scoffed. “He must have thought we would never find such a place.”

“That wasn’t the first one,” Ellen shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “There were others… I couldn’t feel them before, but they were there as she drowned. It’s not just Agatha.”

“Despicable,” Ulrik growled, helping her to her feet.

“To think he would leave behind such a vital piece of evidence,” Ellen chuckled weakly, slowly loosening her grip on the button she had clenched in her fingers. “He’ll surely claim innocence.”

Ulrik scowled as he snatched the button from her hand, the two quickly exiting the way they came. “I’d like to see him try.”

Ellen paused just as the reached the threshold out of the garden, feeling the full weight of the experience the phantom had put her through as soon as they were past Agatha’s reach. “Wait, I…” her knees buckled, “... damn.”

-

Ellen woke in her usual room at the duke’s castle, an old servant’s quarter with a large fireplace neatly taken care of even when she was absent. Her throat stung from the water she had vomited a few hours ago, with a headache to match.

She groaned as she sat up slowly, catching sight of the empty glass and water pitcher sitting on the table next to the fireplace, along with a figure seated at it, reading a book by its light.

“... Your Grace,” she croaked, her voice gone.

“I’ve told you many times not to overexert yourself. Are my words difficult to understand?” He didn’t look up from his book, his voice dripping with anger.

“I understand them,” Ellen got up slowly from the bed, walking over on shaky legs to the table and reaching for the pitcher.

“Then perhaps, are they difficult to obey?” he prodded, snapping the book closed and yanking the pitcher from her reach before pouring its contents into the glass for her.

“Very,” Ellen smiled wryly, pulling the cup towards her and sipping at it slowly. “Apparently.”

“I’ve asked you several times not to commune with the spirits you see. At this point, I have no choice but to think you are purposefully ignoring me.”

“In my defense,” Ellen raised her hands in defeat, “I did not intend to commune with Agatha. She pulled me in herself.”

“With this, yes?” The duke tossed the button across the table for her to inspect. “It bears the mark of Agatha Valon’s house. The idiot sent one of his own valet’s to kill her.”

“You’ve confirmed?” she questioned, rolling the button on the table under her finger. It was far enough away from the offending spirit that it could no longer draw her into its final memory.

“I had plenty of time while you were unconscious,” The duke snapped. “You should have seen the state you put Ulrik in.”

Ellen laughed dryly, imagining the panic her sudden faint would have put him in. “I’ll apologize to him properly, later. Perhaps a bribe of alcohol is in order...”

They sat in silence for a moment, Ellen sipping at her water as the duke stared at her, eyes dancing between anger and relief.

“What did she show you, Ellen?” he finally asked, reaching across the table to brush his fingers against hers.

Her gaze fell to the table, stomach twisting at the memory. “... She wanted her brother to know the fear she felt as she died,” she answered, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “That’s what she showed me. How it felt… to die like that.”

“... Ulrik said you became tranced as soon as you stepped into the garden.”

“I’d never seen someone manifest so fully before,” Ellen admitted, “It was hard not to be pulled into her. Even before I touched the button.”

“Yet you were, all the same,” the duke growled.

“I suppose,” Ellen nodded, taking another sip.

The duke grabbed her hand, pulling it towards him until she nearly leaned over the table. “You must never, ever approach a phantom that strong again,” he insisted, his eyebrows furrowing in earnest. “You must swear to me, that you’ll never do that again..”

“I approached upon your order,” Ellen argued.

“Then disobey,” the duke hissed, “Disobey me, if you are ever faced with such a phantom.”

Ellen’s gaze softened, her shoulders relaxing. “I won’t get lost,” she smiled, “I’ll return properly.”