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raw-lesbian-energy · 1 year ago

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The New Teacher

Summary: Uzi struggles with events, and Seraph starts her new life as the colony’s art teacher.

Fandom: Murder Drones (The Explorer Drone AU)

Pairings: None

Features: Self-Insert Character

Word Count: 5,595

Warnings: Mild cursing

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The next day arrived a lot faster than expected, and much faster than Uzi wanted it to. Her systems slowly powered up after a guilt-ridden sleep mode, her charge nowhere near as full as it was supposed to be. The realization caused her to let out a long groan, rolling over in her bed and contemplating just powering off again.

“Uzi!”

The small worker drone shut her eyes as she heard her dad’s voice, which was followed by her bedroom door sliding open. She immediately tried to hold still, hoping he would think she was still in sleep mode and leave her alone to rest. Unfortunately for her, Khan wasn’t having it, taking a few steps into her room.

“Come on.” He told her, looking up at her bed. “You’ll be late for school if you don’t get up soon.” Uzi remained still as she felt a twinge of anger, but with her low energy, she couldn’t bring herself to snap back.

“I don’t want to go.” She halfheartedly grumbled instead. Khan’s expression softened at her tone, but he didn’t give in.

“I know what happened was… unsettling, but you’ve already missed enough school as is.” He said. “Plus, I got word from your teacher that something important is happening today, so you shouldn’t miss it!” Uzi opened her eyes again as he said this, mulling the idea over in her processors. Her school never really did important events, besides prom, making her gain a small spark of curiosity. Despite her low energy, she let out a groan and slowly sat up, pushing her hair out of her visor.

“Fine, I’m up.” She replied. “Now get out of my room.” Khan said nothing as he turned and left, leaving Uzi alone in her room again. The teen sat still for a moment longer, her processors still running with ideas before she finally sighed and climbed out of her bed. She hopped off the edge and started for the door, only to stop as she passed by her mirror and noticed her reflection. Her beanie had managed to become lopsided, earning an annoyed sigh from the teen as she turned and readjusted it.

“How’d the stupid thing even-?”

Bip-CRACK!

Uzi’s thought process was stopped short as the mirror broke, fragmenting her reflection and causing small shards of glass to fall to the floor. An expression of panic flashed across her visor, staring at her face cracked between the mirror pieces and noticing her right eye had switched to the AbsoluteSolver symbol.

“Shoot-!” Uzi hissed under her breath, quickly covering her eye. Her gaze shot over to her bedroom door, waiting to see if her dad would walk back in, but the incident seemed to have gone unheard. She let out a small sigh and turned back to her mirror, focusing on a larger piece as she uncovered her eye to see it had reverted to normal. A frown tugged at her lips as she let her hand fall back to her side, staring at her reflection for a moment longer before turning away. She knew she’d have to fix the mirror at some point to keep her dad from finding out, but she didn’t have enough energy to care at that moment and simply walked out of her room to get ready for school.

——————

An hour later, Uzi found herself trudging through the school halls, backpack slung over her shoulder as she made her way to her locker. She picked up on the idle chitchat of other students around her, but none of it processed as she merely kept her head down and kept moving. She had memorized the route to get to her locker at that point, so she was able to just set her body to walk the path and soon reached the small metal cubby. It annoyed her that her locker was the one on top, making her have to stand on her own schoolbooks if she wanted to access it properly.

“Stupid height defect.” She thought bitterly, putting in the access code and opening her locker. She tossed in the stuff she didn’t need, hanging her backpack up as well before shutting the door and stepping off of her other books. Small flecks of snow and rubble remained from her boots, but Uzi merely brushed them off as she picked up the books and tucked them under her arm. At this point, most of the other students had cleared the hallway, all heading to their respective classes, prompting her to head down the hall to her home room.

In the silence, her processors replayed her dad’s words, making her once again start to wonder what this ‘important thing’ was. She wound up turning her gaze to the walls, scanning over the papers and posters to see if any of them would give her a hint of what was going on. Unfortunately, there was nothing new she could see, leaving her completely in the dark on the event. It didn’t stop her from speculating, however, and she let her body once again follow the memorized path before she arrived at her home room class.

The door slid aside as Uzi walked in, but none of her classmates seemed to care. Only two or three even spared a glance, simply checking who it was before returning to their own conversations. Uzi didn’t care, being used to the lack of attention, plopping down in her seat and setting her books on her desk while her processors kept generating ideas.

“Alright, students.”

Her teacher’s deadpan voice caught Uzi’s attention, drawing her gaze as the door slid open and he stepped through. The other students fell silent shortly after, turning their focuses up to the orange-eyed worker drone. He moved to the front of the room with his usual bored expression, a clipboard in one hand with some papers held on it.

“We’ll be continuing work on your group projects today, but before that, I’m required to give you an announcement.” He spoke in a tired tone. “The school board managed to find a replacement art teacher, so for the rest of the year, art classes will be resuming.” Uzi perked up a bit at the news, but her classmates had varied reactions. Some murmured surprise and excitement, while others openly and loudly complained.

“Are you kidding me?” One groaned.

“Come on, I liked having a free period!” Another, who Uzi recognized as Darren, cried. The teacher’s expression gained an edge of annoyance.

“Settle down.” He told them. “The decision’s final, so no complaining. Anyways, as I said, it’s group project work, so get in your groups and get on that.” As soon as he finished speaking, he turned and went back to his desk, sitting down and pulling out some other paperwork. The students quickly took the hint and moved to gather in their groups, though most just started to chat idly instead of doing their work. Uzi remained seated at her desk, not able to focus until she heard footsteps approach and stop next to her. She flicked her gaze up and was met with Emily, one of the members of her group, standing there with her usual timid expression.

“Hey, uh… Uzi.” She spoke, her voice quiet. Uzi said nothing in reply, keeping a tired but neutral expression on her face. Emily still found it intimidating though, taking a small step back and holding her books closer to her chest.

“I-I… wanted to ask about notes.” She managed. Uzi still didn’t reply, but she opened one of her books and pulled out some papers that had been stored in the pages. She handed them off to her without a word, and Emily quickly took them before retreating to her own desk. Uzi watched her go for a moment, her gaze then wandering to the other member of her group seated near the back. Sam was once again fiddling with a magnet, and the fuzz on his visor made it clear he was already destabilized. The purple-haired teen rolled her eyes and turned her gaze back to her desk, pulling out some blank paper and her sketching pencil.

Her audio receptors switched to muffle as she started to draw, soon winding up with another page full of murder drone X’s and AbsoluteSolver symbols. Her concern grew as she scanned over the sketches, but she kept herself from dwelling on them as she grabbed another blank page and started drawing again. By the time the bell rang to signal class had finished, Uzi found herself with four new pages full of Solver symbols and sketches of murder drones. A frown tugged at her lips before she sighed and pressed the pages between her schoolbooks, once again tucking them under her arm as she trudged out of the room.

——————

As the day went on, Uzi found herself unable to really focus. Her audio receptors stayed on muffle, though this wound up being much more problematic when gym class rolled around. She was snapped to an auditory reset when a basketball smacked her upside the head, the coach blowing his whistle as a result.

“Uzi! Get your head in the game, or get your body off the court!” He scolded. Uzi rubbed at the spot where the ball had hit her, casting a half-hearted glare at her teacher before moving off the court. She ignored the stares of her classmates as she sat down on the bleachers off to the side, resting her elbow on her knee and her chin in her palm.

She never liked gym class. It was known that worker drones were built to be equal in physicality, so it felt pointless to her to try and compete. Though, in the school’s defence, being alone on Copper-9 had allowed their presets to vary a bit more, but most settings stayed more-or-less the same. The main exception she’d seen was Thad, who had wound up manufactured with increased speed and strength, making him a lot better suited for athletics. Whenever she thought about it, she couldn’t decide whether she was happy for him or jealous that his defects helped his performance when hers just caused her trouble. She decided to not think about it any further, instead looking over to see the coach not paying attention to her. Using the opportunity, Uzi slipped off the bleachers and headed for the door, carefully pushing it open and sneaking out of the gym.

The hallways were quiet as the teen walked, though since all the other drones were in class, it made sense. This wasn’t the first time she’d left gym early, as she liked having the chance to get a break from the noisy chatter and judging eyes. Her feet automatically took her to her usual hiding spot, opening the door to the empty classroom and letting out a relieved sigh as she stepped in.

“Oh, hey there!”

Uzi snapped up at the sudden voice, her eyes hollow in panic as she looked into the room. Standing by the desk was a tall drone with short brown hair, light violet eyes, and white-rimmed glasses. Uzi took a moment to process her before her memories kicked in, quickly realizing she had seen this drone before.

“You?!” She blurted, still in a mild state of shock. The other drone tilted her head in confusion, scanning Uzi over before she gained a look of realization.

“Oh yeah, I remember you!” She said, smiling. “Uzi, right? I know we only talked a bit.” Uzi remained silent for a moment, her processors still trying to catch up. The new drone- Seraph, her memory reminded her- was in her bunker, in her school, in the empty art class. Her eyes glanced over to the desk, and seeing various papers and art supplies scattered across it, she finally put the whole picture together.

“Wait, you’re the new art teacher?” She managed at last. “I thought you were dead!” Seraph’s expression changed, looking mildly offended, but still holding a smile.

“Hey, give me a bit more credit than that.” She replied. “I survived months on my own before I ran into you guys.” Uzi’s shock quickly turned to skepticism.

“N left you with V.” She deadpanned, folding her arms. “There’s no way she didn’t try to kill you.” Seraph’s gaze softened.

“Oh yeah, no, she did.” She admitted, rather nonchalantly. “I ended up stabbing her in self-defence, and then she decided not to kill me after that. Said I was interesting, or something.” Uzi raised an eyebrow, her expression now showing clear confusion. Seraph wasn’t surprised by her reaction, giving her a small shrug.

“Yeah, I couldn’t understand it either, but hey, I’m not complaining.” She said. “I’ll take her being weird over me being dead.” Uzi thought over her words, ultimately saying nothing in response as Seraph did have a point. The taller drone smiled a bit more before her eyes turned up to the clock on the wall, noticing the time and growing confused.

“Wait, there’s still twenty minutes before third period’s over.” She stated, looking back at Uzi. “Shouldn’t you be in another class right now?” The teen’s eyes widened before her expression turned angry, her folded arms tightening around her body defensively.

“Bite me.” She snapped. “It’s just gym class.” Seraph gained a look of understanding, a small smile reappearing on her face as she nodded.

“Ah, yeah, I get that.” She replied. “Well, find a seat then, if you want to hang around. I’m still setting stuff up.” Uzi’s earlier defensiveness vanished, completely caught off-guard by Seraph’s response. The brunette didn’t say anything further, instead turning back to her desk to sort out the various supplies. Uzi watched for a moment before she started to walk past, her eyes remaining on Seraph and making her miss the pencil that was on the floor. She only noticed it as she stepped on it and her foot rolled, throwing her balance and making her fall backwards.

“Whoa-!”

Whump!

Uzi blinked as she felt something catch her, looking over to see that Seraph still standing where she was. Only now she had leaned a bit closer, and a large metal wing had unfurled from her back, which was currently supporting the purple-haired teen.

“You okay?” Seraph asked. Uzi stared at her with wide eyes, quickly standing back up and facing her fully.

“You have wings?!” She exclaimed. Seraph blinked.

“Oh, yeah.” She replied, bending and flexing the wing like a second arm. “I built them myself; they’re the main reason I survived outside a bunker for so long.” Uzi couldn’t take her eyes off the wing, watching it move with a look of complete shock.

“How the hell did you get them to work?” She asked, almost muttering. Seraph’s expression turned a mix of panicked and sheepish, her gaze turning away.

“Well, that’s, uh… complicated.” She replied. “Point is I have them now, and they’re not going anywhere.” She retracted the wing completely as she finished her sentence, and Uzi took notice of a metal pack that Seraph seemed to have attached to her. The upper half was hidden under the shawl she was wearing, but deciding not to ask about it further, Uzi simply nodded and moved to go sit down. She headed over to the desk she usually sat at, setting her books down as she leaned back in the seat. She wound up glancing over at Seraph again, seeing her casually sorting items while softly humming to herself. The teen couldn’t figure out what to make of her, but she wasn’t able to think about it long as her hands started twitching and her processors buzzed. An irritated look flashed across her face as she sat forward, pulling out a piece of blank paper and once again starting to draw.

Time flew by as Uzi got lost in her scribbling, finishing up a second page just before the classroom door slid open. Both Uzi and Seraph looked up as other students started to file in, some looking curious while others looked annoyed. Seraph kept a smile regardless, giving them a small wave as she scanned each one and checked off the attendance list on her internal screen.

“Hey! Welcome!” She said in a friendly tone. “Take a seat anywhere you like.” A few students looked over at her, some seeming confused, but did as she said and sat down. Many students sat with their friends, but Uzi quickly noticed that they all chose seats far away from her. Seraph took notice of this as well, her smile faltering for a moment before she recovered and welcomed the last of the students. Soon enough all the desks were full, the bell ringing not long after and indicating the new period.

“Okay!” Seraph started, standing in front of the class. “Welcome, or welcome back, to art class! My name’s Seraph, and I’ll be your teacher for the semester.” The students looked at her with bored or blank expressions, not giving her any major response to work with. Despite this, Seraph kept her energy up, moving over to her desk where she had set the supplies.

“Since I haven’t met any of you before,” she continued, “I figured it’d be best to have the first assignment help me figure out where you all stand artistically. So, you’ll all be getting some blank paper and I want you to draw whatever you’re able to.” A few students perked up at her statement, though Uzi’s expression flashed briefly with worry. Seraph took notice, but kept from drawing attention to it, instead picking up a stack of papers and moving through the desks.

“I’m going to assume you all have pencils of some sort, but if you need or want anything, I have supplies up at my desk you can come and borrow.” She told them, placing a piece of paper on each desk as she passed. “If you also have any questions, feel free to ask.”

“Uh, I have a question.” A student said, and Seraph looked over to see a green-eyed drone with sunglasses on. “Why do we need to take this stupid class? Seems kinda pointless.” A few students murmured or snickered at his question, but Seraph hardly blinked.

“The doors that protect this bunker, and your lives, were manufactured because of blueprints.” She replied matter-of-factly. “Good blueprints require good art skills, and good art skills take time to develop. They’re not something even the most advanced AI can just download, which is why we have this class.” The students wound up falling silent at her response, and with that, Seraph continued passing out the papers until she reached Uzi’s desk. The purple-haired teen still had a slightly nervous expression on her face, causing Seraph to gain a small frown before continuing to give the last papers out.

“Alright, everyone should have their papers, so go ahead and start.” She said. Most students began sketching or brainstorming as instructed, while Uzi hesitated and merely stared at the paper. A few seconds passed before she felt a light tap on her shoulder, looking up and seeing Seraph standing next to her again.

“Hey, mind if I talk to you in the hall for a minute?” She asked, keeping her voice down. Uzi blinked in surprise, looking a bit confused before nodding slowly. Seraph stepped back as the teen got up from her desk, the movement prompting a few of the other students to look up. Uzi noticed Lizzy and her clique whispering as they watched her, and a scowl crossed her face in response. Seraph quickly noticed Uzi’s expression and looked over, seeing the girls and hardening her gaze.

“Hey, focus on your own work.” She told them. “This doesn’t concern you.” The statement caught a few students by surprise, but no one gave any response as Seraph refocused on Uzi and gestured for her to follow. The purple-haired teen did as instructed, following after Seraph as she out of the class and into the hallway. There were no other drones walking about, much to Uzi’s relief, but she quickly grew nervous again as she saw Seraph’s eyes on her.

“Did I… do something wrong?” She asked, somewhat confused. Seraph shook her head, folding her hands in front of her.

“No no, nothing like that.” She replied. “I actually wanted to check up on you; I should’ve done it earlier before the other students showed up, but I didn’t think about it until now.” Uzi’s expression quickly turned to confusion, the response catching her completely off-guard.

“Why did you want to check up on me?” She questioned, an uneasy tone in her voice. Seraph’s brow furrowed, her eyes showing concern.

“Well, you know how I was stuck with V yesterday while you and N were here in the bunker?” She asked. Uzi nodded slowly, unsure where she was going with her statement and tensing up slightly.

“Yeah, after V and I sorted things out, we went back to chill in the crashed pod.” Seraph continued to explain. “N got back a little while later, and… well, he seemed really upset. Then you showed up and seem pretty rattled by something, so I figured I’d just… make sure you were okay.” Uzi’s eyes widened, her processors automatically replaying the memories from the fight with the eldritch snake-crab version of J. They wound up focusing on N’s worried face, causing more feelings of guilt to rise in her systems before her expression turned angry.

“Ugh, I’m fine!” She snapped, glaring up at the taller drone. “You hardly know me, don’t act like you actually care.” Seraph took a step back, her eyes briefly hollowing in shock from Uzi’s outburst. She hesitated on a reply, her gaze shifting as she tried to find the words.

“I’m not acting, Uzi.” She told her, trying to keep her voice calm. “Believe it or not, I am actually worried-”

“Bite me!” Uzi cut her off, not wanting to hear any more. “I told you, I’m fine! So stop asking!” Seraph once again struggled for words, eventually relenting with a small sigh.

“Alright, I won’t push.” She said at last. “But… I’ll be here if you change your mind.” Uzi still held her angry glare, but felt a slight twinge in the back of her processors at Seraph’s tone. Neither said anything further, ultimately causing Seraph to turn around and head back for the classroom door. She stopped just outside and looked back over at Uzi, who then got the hint and followed the taller drone back into class.

The door slid aside as the two headed in, both remaining quiet as they each walked to their respective desks and sat down. Seraph wound up sparing one more glance at Uzi, who was staring down at her blank paper before sighing and grabbing her pencil. A frown tugged at Seraph’s lips, but she turned her gaze away and grabbed her tablet, picking up her pen to get some of her own work done.

——————

After class had ended, Seraph was left with a pile of drawings and a few returned pencils and erasers. She had been quick to clean up and start back to her unit, the school hallways quiet as most of the students had already left. There were a few stragglers, but Seraph merely tuned out anything they said, her processors running rapidly as she got lost in her own thoughts.

She felt her charge starting to drop as she finally got back to her unit, letting out a sigh and setting the students’ assignments on the dining table. She knew she needed something to eat, so she turned to the kitchen and started going through the cabinets for anything she could munch on to help her charge levels. She perked up when she came across a pack of AAA’s, pulling them out and checking their warranty before popping them open. She picked one up and tossed it in her mouth, letting out a small hum of contentment as she quickly chewed and swallowed it.

“Mm, I forgot how good these taste.” She muttered, taking the package and going back to the papers. She sat down at the table and pulled out her tablet, opening a blank page to take notes on the students’ work. Most of them were decent and showed promise, and she jotted down anything she considered useful for setting up further lessons.

“Rebecca; strong composition but needs work on perspective. Braiden; anatomy is very well done, needs to do more backgrounds. Darren-… need to talk with him about inappropriate drawings.” Seraph wrote diligently as she went through one piece after another, only to stop as she noticed one in particular. It was a very well-done drawing, clearly thought out and given proper attention, but what really made the brunette nervous was that it was of V. She hesitated, wondering if it was Uzi’s work, but as she turned the page over and checked the name, she saw it was written in Russian.

“Doll drew this..?” She murmured, completely taken aback. She had taken note of Doll during the class, but she had been very quiet and reserved the entire time. It had struck Seraph as odd, since she had been seated with Lizzy and the other chatty girls, but she decided it hadn’t been her place to pry and left them alone. Now as she stared at the rather scary depiction of V in front of her, complete with dismembered worker drones, she started to think it might be worth it to check up on her.

She quickly scribbled down her notes before moving on to the next piece, which the brunette could immediately tell belonged to Uzi. It was of N, she got that quickly, but it was more hasty and had small sketches of a strange symbol in the corners. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it sparked a feeling of worry in her processors that she made note of.

“See about talking to Uzi further.” She wrote. She already knew the teen would just snap at her again, but with everything Seraph was seeing from her, she couldn’t help but feel concerned. She picked up and munched on another battery to try and calm her nerves, making a few more notes on Uzi’s artwork before continuing. About an hour later, she had finished both her grading and the pack of AAA’s, leaving her with a bit more energy but a lot more boredom. She leaned back in her chair as she contemplated what she could do, shuffling through her internal files before stumbling across a memory of V.

Seraph paused as she replayed the memory of their time in the pod, feeling a small warmth spread through her systems. Even though V had tried to kill her earlier that day, she couldn’t help but feel they had actually been connecting for a little while. She went through her memory banks and pulled up the last time she had seen V, noticing how her annoyed expression had softened slightly when she left. A frown tugged at her lips at the sight, an impulsive idea flashing through her processors and making her check her internal clock. The time told her that the sun was already setting outside, meaning it would soon be night and N and V would be free from the spire. The impulsive idea soon took over her systems, and before her rational programs could truly stop it, the brunette let out a sigh and headed out of her unit.

The hallways were empty as Seraph worked to navigate them, getting lost a few times as she tried to find the main doors. The map she had initially been given only showed the school and housing units, so she had to go through the rest of the bunker basically blind. She wound up wandering for a good ten minutes before finding a large warehouse area, freezing for a moment as she saw oil stains and clear signs of a fight scattered about.

“The hell happened here..?” She muttered, cautiously stepping into the space. She kept her guard up as she scanned the area, her gaze soon turning upward and noticing a large broken hole in the ceiling. She promptly unfurled her wings and flew closer to get a better look, examining the glass and metal fragments that had been smashed through. The sight was both intriguing and concerning, and Seraph wound up popping her head through to see the hole led straight to the outside world. The sun had already set at that point, but the brunette hardly noticed as she got an idea, a smile crossing her face before she pulled out her tools to get to work.

——————

Thirty minutes later, Seraph wiped the sweat off her visor and stored the last tool back in her pack. It had been tricky building while in flight, but she had managed to make it work as well as not get caught by any passing drones. She did a few last checks before smiling proudly, swooping back down to look at it from a distance.

“Huh. Can’t even tell where I put it.” She said, tilting her head before flying back up. She felt along the ceiling until she found the handle, giving it a small tug before pushing up and opening the hatch. It swung open with ease, allowing the brunette to climb right out and back into the open world. She was sure to carefully close the hatch as well, double-checking that it hadn’t locked before letting it go and standing up. The wind ruffled her hair and her shawl, and she couldn’t help but feel a comforting familiarity in the cold. She didn’t let herself get too nostalgic, however, instead turning her gaze to the city and taking off.

It didn’t take her long to find the spire by air, landing on a nearby building to scout the area first. She had luckily shown up at just the right time, as not a minute later she witnessed one disassembly drone fly out through one of the higher placed openings. Seraph was quick to pick up on the boot-like shape of his feet, which helped her know that it was N leaving and not V. A small spark of hope went off in her systems as she watched N fly away, waiting until he was far enough before gliding down into the spire. She landed softly on the snow, her audio receptors on high in case N suddenly doubled back, but she thankfully heard nothing and walked up to the pod. She launched herself onto it with one strong flap, landing neatly on top and gently knocking on the door. She heard no response for a solid few seconds, causing her to hesitate before finally deciding to speak.

“Uh, V? You in there?”

A sudden clatter reached her audio receptors, startling her slightly before the hatch door was violently thrown open. Seraph flinched back to avoid being hit, eyes wide as V popped her head out and stared at her in disbelief.

“Seraph?!” She blurted. “What are you doing back here?” Seraph took a moment to recollect herself, her processors getting up to speed before she gained a more sheepish look.

“Would you believe me if I said I was bored?” She tried. V’s expression quickly turned annoyed, causing Seraph to panic slightly.

“Okay, it’s not… entirely boredom.” She admitted. “Honestly, it’s mostly curiosity.” V merely raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for a better explanation. Seraph wound up breaking eye contact, growing more nervous as she began to stammer over her words.

“Look, I-I know there was a lot that happened, and honestly I don’t think I’ve processed all of it, but… you’re the first murder drone who has actively chosen not to kill me.” She explained. “And, as crazy as it may sound, I don’t want to just stop seeing you because N said so. Once everything had settled, and you weren’t trying to eat me, I actually enjoyed our time together. You honestly seem… kinda cool.” After finishing her rant, Seraph finally managed to look back at V, trying to read the expression on her face. The annoyance was still there, however it had softened slightly, and the brunette quickly realized V was taking a moment to think.

“Well… you’re not completely insufferable.” She replied at last. “And N’s still been whiny, so I guess you can stick around.” Seraph perked up almost immediately at V’s words, a bright smile crossing her face. V quickly gave her a warning look, prompting the explorer drone to settle down a bit.

“Heh, thanks, V.” She said instead. “So, what do you want to do first?” V let out a small chuckle, climbing out of the pod and unfurling her wings.

“Go anywhere that isn’t here.” She replied. Seraph looked up at her, pausing for a moment as she took her in. The light from the planets shone down through one of the spire’s gaps and gently illuminated her body, glinting off of her bladed wings that stretched out behind her. The brunette felt a small flush of heat in her core systems at the sight, but she quickly shook it off and let her own wings unfurl.

“Right, lead the way.” She told her. V grinned and quickly took off, Seraph not even hesitating as she flew after her. This friendship, if she could call it that, would definitely be interesting, but it was one she was more than ready to explore.

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melissa-titanium · 7 months ago

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dd hc organizerrrr

THIS IS A VERY LONG POST LOL .

biggest basis for their makeup is essentially. birds and cats, with a little bit of wolf wedged in. they're somewhere inbetween solitary and pack predator, not quite social enough to actively search for bigger groups to hunt with BUT not solitude enough to hunt solo. three or four is the average for squads, two being the absolute minimum. to be seperated from your squadmates is a highly traumatic and stressful experience regardless of your opinion on the squadmate you lose. the feeling can be softened by replacing the squadmate. (eg; what happened with j and uzi. the alphabet gang's squad was a three-drone squad, and with j's death, uzi 'replaced' her in n and v's coding. not the same for j, though, because that means she was booted from the squad and it really hurt!!!)

dds are predators that tend to try and stay out of plain sight if need be, but they're already strong and fast enough to catch and kill wds without any struggle. BUT, if they were facing something they needed to surprise for whatever reason, they'd hide themselves rather than try and stay quiet. dds are already naturally nearly-silent (as shown in how n beats the shit out of uzi completely silently in pilot AND the way he basically DISAPPEARS when he sneaks into the vents during gin rummy) so they have no need to try and be more quiet, BUT the issue with their design is that they are. very, very flashy. they have warning patterns plastered ALL across their bodies and are basically glowsticks, and once they're in sight, you know where they are regardless of how dark it is. tl;dr: they rely on their silence to surprise prey.

i did a huge fucking chart on n's height a while back but i literally dont think i could find it. i think, canonically, dds are like... 5'0 exactly? but imo i think they're more around 6'6. there is minor variation in wd-frame dds, so height can differ from dd to dd.

i think dds are split into two different types, those being standalone and wd-frame.

standalone are dds through and through, retaining no worker drone memories because they HAVE no worker drone memories; they were built by the solver solely for the purpose of being a dd, therefore they never were a wd.

wd-frame are dds that have been built over an existing wd (n, v, and j for example.) they can on occasion retain memories (like v, depending on whether the solver wanted them to or not,) and usually retain the 'growth???' code of worker drones, allowing them to grow and change in response to their organic insides.

a better comparison would be; first gen worker drones to second gen worker drones. first gen drones (alice, khan, yeva, nori, etc) are all built off of one frame, leaving very little variation in bodyshape outside of built-purpose (eg; i think nori and khan were built for heavy-lifting and such, meaning they're shorter and heftier, while drones like yeva and alice were built for personal use, which makes them look more. human-like. i don't klnow does that make sense>>>??)

physical traits;

they have black teeth, stained with oil.

their true eyes can be individually taken off, as can the headband (the headband acts like the cap of a lightbulb.)

standalone dds (dds not built ontop of a worker drone frame, there are no canon examples of this) do NOT have whiskers. wd-frame dds (n, v, and j,) have whiskers.

... just like wds, dd hair is just a ton of whiskers bunched up into a hairstyle. does this mean standalone dds are bald? yeah, probably.

dd tails are segmented and interlocked by bendable joints (FLESH joints, dds are half-organic after all) that can extend and flex comfortably to reach further targets. the joints click and bend with each movement.

this was a trait in my old iterations of dd designs so idk if ill keep it, but, dds have heat-regulation spines poking out of their seams. they resemble the centipede-esque limbs on materials collection holo-spooky-snake-crabs.

their wingblades are shaped like fish-hooks, meant to latch onto prey and reel them in.

in addition to this, the wings whistle VERY loudly when flying. they have gravity propulsion (?) devices under their wings arm (not forearm) that make it so they don't actually have to flap their wings (like they fucking COULD?? look at those things dude) but the wingblades themselves are also used as means of steering. the air/gravity around them can be more easily manipulated with the wingblades because each blade has individual muscle control.

HUGE barrel chests. they're used to protect the core. they're split into two parts, a very hard steel-material (that also goes to the shoulders) and a bullet-proof black glass that allows you to see the corelight. and, yes, i know, they look like boobs but i'm nice and love feminism so it's only accentuated on n's chest. yes, his boobs are naked.

drones in general have a zip lining their abdomen, but the rubber material on disassembly drones is much lighter and malleable, allowing dds more flexibility than wds, but also less protection for their insides (which makes sense, because why would they need to protect their insides when they can just regenerate anything that broke? the rubber itself holds the stomach and other organs, but can be unzipped for maintenance.

there are four "sections" of a dd's tail. for organization purposes, i'll call them a, b, c, and d. section a is the joints of the tail itself, which can extend and flex. the tail sections and joints are considered one section. section a filters nanite acid along the dd's spinal cord down into section b section b transfers the filtered nanite acid from section a into the acid tank/storage section c transfers the acid from the tank into section d, and acts as the sheathe for section d section d is the syringe, which can extend in and out of section c

like dd's eyes, their ears are interchangable/customizable. UNLIKE dd's eyes, the ears are actually meant to be customized. the external ears themselves aren't particularly useful, and are dds only means of personalization.

i can;t think of anything else to add here rn UHHH

#mel roars

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kaiju-wolfdragon · 1 year ago

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Ok cyn and doll's turn. Also i'll tell you some headcanons about those 2

Kaiju!cyn:

Kaiju!cyn headcanons:

She's started like this during her malfunction

In her kaiju form she's about 15-20ft tall she might gonna have some struggles with her movements

She still had her absolute solver during her kaiju form

Her dangerous kaiju form scared the humans more than her appearance, she still cared about N but still had her own goals to deal with.

Her kaiju from effects her eldritch form as well

You can pet her, but it might be a bit challenging to tame her.

Kaiju!doll

Kaiju!doll headcanons:

She had an ability to hide her kaiju form and her kaiju size.

In her kaiju form, she's the same height as uzi in her kaiju form

She still got the same power along with her kaiju abilities

Lizzy knows about doll's kaiju form a bit but rather not say anything about it

She will try to kill V in her kaiju form or her normal form

She had no problem fighting with or without her kaiju form

She doesn't need wings to fly since she can teleport anytime and have no hard time dodging

She already know about uzi's kaiju form and tried to see if it's personal to help her control her along with uzi's absolute solver.

#my oc art #g/t art #g/t #kaiju murder drones #kaiju murder drones au #the kaiju murder drones #kaiju!cyn #kaiju!doll #murder drones cyn #murder drones au #murder drones doll #kaiju cyn #kaiju doll #the kaiju murder drones headcanons #headcanon #headcannons

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pep-the-artemis · 6 months ago

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So what about the rest of the cast? Well the only two humanoid characters shorter than 145cm is Doll and CYN.

Doll is virtually the same as Uzi in most regards so the same logic used before applies to her but CYN is different for a two reasons.

Firstly, CYN is young. Her exact age is hard to determine but it seems she's almost certainly under 16 and very likely to be under the age of 12 so she would use a car seat. I generally stray far away from any theory saying CYN is old as I don't think its reasonable to suggest she was aging while dead and it makes her autistic characteristics come across as highly problematic imo.

Secondly, CYN is short.

[image description; a screenshot of Maid N and CYN from murder drones episode 5]

I don't know exactly how tall Maid N is but comparing him to the other maids around, he is seemingly adverage height and comparing Maid J to Tessa seems to imply the Elliot Worker Drones aren't any taller than the Copper-9 Drones. So CYN falls into the height and age range for needing a car seat but what type is a difficult question.

Thirdly, CYN is physically disabled. The laws around disabled children using booster seats is different to cater to there extra needs. We have no reason to conclude that CYN has sensory issues but she does seemingly have hypotonia (she is seen struggling holding up her own head and arms on multiple occasions, I got a whole post about this). I am not qualified to discuss this topic but I imagine CYN would require a head rest.

Even by the most generous estimates of Uzi Doorman's heights, she would technically be legally required, under Australian law (and most countries), to use a booster seat while in a car.

#murder drones #murder drones details #cyn murder drones

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marvelousbirthdays · 6 years ago

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Happy Birthday, sincenothinglasts!

July 10 - Daisy/Redeem!Killmonger, maybe some hurt/comfort with “Let me keep that promise” and hopefully a bit of desperation, recklessness and lot of love (revelation) for @sincenothinglasts

Written by @ozhawkauthor

An AU in which T’Challa didn’t allow Killmonger to die at the end of Black Panther. He sent him to the Jabari and let M’Baku kick his ass into shape for a while. After a year on the border, Erik has learnt a whole lot about Wakanda (and indeed Africa) he never really understood before.

When Thanos comes, Erik is the first to step up by M’Baku’s side and join the fight. After it’s all over and the Snap has been reversed (yes, I’m handwaving here) Erik joins the Wakandan outreach program. T’Challa has a special task for him… liaison to SHIELD, who are back up and running and who need to be fully up to date with the Wakandan tech now being spread around the globe.

Killmonger arrives literally in the middle of a battle as the Watchdogs attack SHIELD and try to pick off the Inhumans. He doesn’t even hesitate before wading into the fight.

Also, I couldn’t resist making it a soulmate fic :D

He wasn’t even armed, but when the massive garage door opened to reveal a fight taking place inside, Erik didn’t even hesitate. He leapt from the car before the stunned driver had even stopped it, snatched a weird-looking shotgun-axe weapon from a brother lying unconscious on the ground, and decapitated the ugly white guy who was about to put a bullet in the brother’s head.

The spray of blood which splattered across the next three ugly white guys made them freeze in their tracks, just long enough for Erik to give them a spray of lead. And that gave him some breathing room, not that he needed it. He rearmed from the dead as he moved, snatching up weapons, emptying them and discarding them when he’d finished.

It wasn’t long before the last few mutts were throwing down their weapons and begging for mercy, though it wasn’t all Erik’s doing. A couple of women had been doing most of the heavy lifting, both slight little things dressed in black. One, a Chinese woman with agelessly beautiful features, cast him a glance and a nod before moving away to start ruthlessly restraining prisoners.

“I could take care of that problem for you,” Erik offered with a twitch of the Uzi he was currently holding. He reckoned he still had half a mag in it. More than enough for the four guys currently pissing their pants at the expression on his face.

“Thanks, but I think you’ve already helped us enough,” a soft voice said at his shoulder, and his head snapped to the side, his eyes widening.

The second woman was no taller or sturdier than the first, slight enough she looked as though a breath of wind might blow her away. Delicate features, slightly tilted dark brown eyes, and a slightly golden cast to her skin said she wasn’t one hundred percent Caucasian, but she wasn’t the colour Erik had expected the woman who spoke his soulmate words to be.

He took a half-step back in unthinking rejection, before catching himself, taking a deep breath. T’Challa would look at him with those disappointed eyes, tell him not to judge on appearances alone. He knew nothing of this woman, nothing of her life, her struggles. All he did know of her was that she was more than human. He’d seen men fall as she flung her hands out towards them, felt the ground tremor under his feet.

“Daisy Johnson,” his soulmate said, holding out a small hand. “And yes, if you read the newspapers, that Daisy Johnson, leader of the Inhumans and currently in the Saviour of Humanity phase rather than the Evil Mastermind.”

He couldn’t help a grin at that, accepting her hand in his and feeling the smallness of it, the softness of her skin.

“And you must be Erik Killmonger, only monarch I’ve ever heard of with an even shorter reign than Lady Jane Grey.”

Ouch. That burned. He winced.

“Or are you going by N’Jadaka now?”

It sounded good on her lips, not stilted or awkward the way a lot of non-Wakandans said it. He could almost get used to it, hearing it from Daisy, even though he hadn’t used the name in two decades.

He was opening his mouth to reply when the most medium-looking white guy he’d ever seen came up to him. Medium height, medium looking, medium balding, medium priced suit… seriously, he’d never seen a dude so likely to fade into the background. If he hadn’t seen the SHIELD Director’s picture, he’d never have guessed this was Phil Coulson.

“Mr Coulson.” He offered his hand to shake respectfully. Dude might be white, but according to all reports he had a pair of solid vibranium balls under that medium suit.

“Mr Killmonger.” Coulson shook his hand, smiled at him with surprising warmth. “Thank you for your assistance with that little problem. Your arrival was most fortuitous.”

“You’re welcome.” Looking around, Erik saw the big brother whose shotgun-axe he’d stolen was back on his feet, leaning on the shoulder of a slender Latina woman. “Any casualties?”

“Not of ours, thanks in part to you.”

“You’re welcome.” To his surprise, it felt good to be thanked for what he’d done by instinct. Killing in defence of the good guys? Maybe he was useful for something, after all. His chest puffed up a little higher. Daisy was smiling at him too, and that made him feel even better, as good as the first time he took that crazy heart-shaped herb, almost.

He still hadn’t spoken to her, he realised, opened his mouth again to try and speak, but the moment passed as she suddenly hurried past him to embrace another young woman, crying;

“Jemma, thank goodness you’re all right!”

“This way, please, Mr Killmonger,” Coulson said pleasantly.

“Erik,” he said, suddenly uncomfortable with the name he’d claimed for himself. “Erik Stevens is my legal name.”

“It certainly carries better associations, but we can call you by whatever name you prefer.” Coulson’s expression was mischievous. “Agent Killmonger would sound pretty intimidating, especially with the way you look, and there are times when that could be useful. Pair you with an innocent-looking young agent like Agent Johnson and you could play good cop/bad cop very effectively.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s a pretty badass cop, considering what I just watched her do,” Erik said dryly.

The corners of Coulson’s medium-blue eyes crinkled up. “Keep that in mind and you’ll do just fine with her,” he said, handing Erik a lanyard.

Once he plucked up the guts to speak with her, that is. As he followed Coulson down the passage deeper into the underground base, he rubbed the fingers of his right hand over the inside of his left elbow in an unconscious gesture.

He’d been five when the words appeared, a glimmering silver beneath his skin. His father had been shocked and resigned… after all, his own soulmate was an American, a woman he could not marry because of his closeness to the throne. N’Jobu had accepted that he would never sit on the throne.

Erik had just hoped he’d meet a Wakandan woman who would speak to him in English. It didn’t matter now, of course. Part of the terms of his pardon were his resigning forever any claim to the throne. He was no longer restricted from marrying a non-Wakandan.

Which was good. Since he’d been waiting a long time for his soulmate to turn up.

Gently, he touched the words again, hidden under the sleeve of his leather jacket. He’d been careful never to scar over them, wanting to ensure his soulmate would recognise her writing, just in case there was any doubt.

Glancing back over his shoulder just before they turned the corner, he caught a last glimpse of Daisy. She was watching him, her brow furrowed, even as she spoke with her friend.

Well. At least he’d have time to think up what he was going to say to her.

Two weeks later

“He hates my guts.”

“Of course he doesn’t!” Mack gave her a startled look. “Why would you think that?”

“He’s never spoken so much as a single word to me.” Daisy picked moodily at her fingernails, watching as Erik moved through a training exercise with May. May was overmatched and she knew it, but she certainly wasn’t giving in. Erik had to work damned hard for every fall. Stripped to the waist, his scarred skin glistening with sweat, he was sexy enough to make Daisy shiver a little with delight. Eyes riveted to his every move, she barely heard Mack’s response.

“He’s talkative enough with everyone else. Maybe he likes you, likes you.” A huge elbow nudged her ribs.

“What are we, twelve?” Daisy scoffed, and then shot to her feet as an alarm shrilled. Erik and May were right behind her as she sprinted along the corridor to the operations centre.

They’d need two teams, Daisy realised with a quick glance at the objectives up on the screens. Coulson was already making the assignments.

“May, you’ll fly in with Mack and Yoyo. Daisy, you and Erik at ground level. Motorbikes will be quickest; May can drop you from the quinjet.”

“Sir, yes sir!” Erik barked, and Daisy slid a sideways glance at him, recalling that he’d been Special Forces with the US Army for some years. His natural reaction to tactical orders, she guessed. Hopefully, he’d respect hers in the field.

As she left the centre at a dead run to head for the armory, she heard Phil speak to Erik.

“You watch her back out there, you hear me?”

“I promise, sir. I’ll bring her back safe.”

Well, at least he liked her that much. Daisy smiled slightly to herself and kept running.

* * *

Coulson barked clipped orders over the radio in his ear, and Erik acknowledged when he could. Which wasn’t too often, because he was thoroughly occupied keeping up with Daisy. She strode through the enemy base they were assaulting, waves of focussed vibration flung out in front of her as effective as a battering ram. He took to running backwards, assault rifle poised and ready, looking for the threat from behind which could take her down when her attention was focussed ahead. If he didn’t see the shooter in time, maybe his body armour could take the bullet instead, as long as he stayed close enough.

Of course, what happened was she stopped suddenly and he ran backwards into her, taking both of them over in a heap.

“What the fu…” Daisy said, and then there was an ominous crack.

“Shit!” Erik was back on his feet in an instant, spinning around in a low crouch, surveying their location for danger before dropping to one knee at Daisy’s side. There was a metal table just beside her, and he realised with horror that she’d hit her head on the corner on the way down. There was an ugly contusion on the side of her head, blood beginning to flow into her hair.

“Coulson, Quake is down,” he said rapidly into his comm. “It was an accident, she fell and hit her head.”

“Can you exfiltrate?” Coulson asked almost immediately.

“If I go back the way we came, yes. I can’t carry her and shoot my way out, though. She’s not conscious.” At least her pulse was strong and steady under Erik’s panicked fingertips.

“The way you came is clear. Fitz has full control over the surveillance and security systems; I’ll put him on to guide you out.”

“Copy that.” Slinging his rifle around to his back, Erik pulled a field dressing from a leg pocket and slapped it on the contusion on Daisy’s head. It would have to do until he could get her to Simmons and proper medical attention.

She was light as he lifted her, and he marvelled yet again at how much lethality was packed into such a small, delicate-appearing form. Her head lolled against his shoulder as he set off back the way they’d come at a dead run.

“You’re jostling me,” a small voice said as he emerged from the building, and Erik heaved a sigh of relief.

“Sorry, angel. Can’t be helped,” he said without thinking, and Daisy went rigid in his arms.

“What did you say?”

“Oh, shit.” He thought fast, nothing useful came to him. “I… said whoops, I think I’m your soulmate and this is really not the time to discuss how I’ve been too chicken to speak to you so far? How about you let me keep that promise to get you back to Coulson almost unscathed, and we can talk about it later?”

They’d reached the spot where they left the bikes, and he lowered her carefully to her feet. She wobbled; there was no way she could ride alone, and they both knew it. Throwing a leg over his bike, he reached out his hand to her.

“We’re definitely talking about this later, mister,” Daisy said as she accepted his hand and climbed on the bike behind him, nudging his rifle to the side so she could put her arms around his waist and lean against his back.

Her slight weight leaning into him so trustingly triggered the most intensely heart-warming sensation. Taking one hand off the handlebars, Erik put it over hers on his abdomen.

“We can talk about anything you wish.”

Slender fingers twisted to link with his. “Now you’ve found your tongue, we will.” She giggled a little naughtily, and her next words made him wonder if she was concussed. “Though I might have a better use for it than talking.”

(Later on, he discovered she wasn’t concussed. She definitely did have a better use for his tongue than talking).

#killmonger #Daisy Johnson #Quakemonger #soulmates

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lovelacemagazine · 7 years ago

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Breaking Bonds

"The Whole Is Greater Than The Sum Of It's Parts".

- Aristotle

The "DMV" is a term that has been around seemingly for all of existence, a designation that has withstood the test of time as a terminology linking D.C., Maryland, and Virginia together into one, completely identifiable entity. For the most part, it’s success - or at the very least, it’s efficiency - cannot be argued; as the term has become household in various media, news outlets, and beyond. For better or worse, via choice or unwillingly, residents of these 3 areas have been bound together by those outside our walls, and in turn, WE have become a collective, ensuring that D.C., Maryland, and Virginia all receive our proper due in whatever field we so choose - all except one:

Music.

Recently, an article was posted by a "music-promotion publication" as it referred to itself as (I won't name the article, but if you're reading this then you probably know the one) which "ranked the Top 20 Rappers from the DMV/Baltimore area" (why Baltimore is consistently given a pass to differentiate/separate itself from the DMV label yet other prominent cities within range aren't is anyone's guess, but that's a topic for another day) complete with name, photo, and origin of said-MC's. Without getting too deep into specifics on 'who belongs where'; as everyone feels strongly on different artists rankings and always feels someone should be higher/lower - I made my way down the list, cringing as I saw some of the names I'd never heard of placed above ESTABLISHED acts such as Rico Nasty, Fat Trel, and Chaz French, just to name a few. There were several other glaring flaws with the list, such as the absence of Maryland native Logic, who arguably had the hottest 2017 of any artist from the DMV, after his third studio album "Everybody" debuted at #1 on the Billboard 200 and releasing the double-platinum certified single "1-800-273-8255" which he performed to massive critical acclaim at the MTV Video Awards, and Ignorantly Delivering Knowledge, better known as IDK who has been making TREMENDOUS waves over the last year, working with the likes of Chief Keef, Swizz Beatz, and MF Doom on his debut studio album 'IWasVeryBad' released last month, and even securing a sponsorship with Adult Swim. However, no flaw in the article was as evident as the complete and total absence of ANY Virginia artists, rapper or otherwise, on the list in question. After rechecking, then re-rechecking to ensure my vision wasn't failing me, I struggled to find any reason why VA as a whole would be completely excluded from a publication claiming to be invested in new & up-and-coming artists. A blog with a grudge maybe? A writer with a personal bias, perhaps? These 2 excuses, for lack of a better term, didn't seem far-fetched, if minor - and thus, I finally began to see the bigger picture, and realize what Virginia creatives have been telling me from the start, was, in fact, completely true.

Virginia is the birthplace of musical legends. Not just one-hit smash wonders, or "here today, gone tomorrow" acts - LEGENDS. We often speak of Pharrell, Missy Elliott, Chris Brown, Clipse, etc. (who have all changed the very landscape of their respective genres of music during their era. This simply cannot be argued) but too often it goes understated or completely ignored just how deep the music culture in VA runs. Blues & Jazz? I give you Ella Fitzgerald, Robert Cray, and Ruth Brown; 19 Grammy Awards between them, including a 'Lifetime Achievement Award' Grammy for Fitzgerald in 1967. Rock and Heavy Metal? I present to you The Dave Matthews Band. 6 consecutive #1 albums. Jason Mraz. 'We Sing, We Dance, We Steal Things' debuted at #3 on Billboard and the lead single, 'I'm Yours' spent a then-record breaking 76 weeks on the charts. Hell, we could even go country and I'd give you The Carter Family, aptly known as "The First Family of Country Music" due to the fact they were the first of the genre to experience global success and become international stars.

With so much diversity and so many accolades under Virginia's belt, it boggles my mind how one could just omit VA from ANY list, spotlighting music of ANY genre when highlighting the so-called DMV. Our culture has been rooted in music since before anyone reading this was even conceived, yet it's obvious that somehow, absurdly, astonishingly, and all too often, mockingly so, that Virginia has been pegged as the weak link in the chain that is DMV music. Rather than take to Twitter and voice my opinion however - which I offer all of you free reign to do after reading my thoughts in full - I decided to highlight 5 artists EXCLUSIVELY from VA who prove that our area hasn't lost a step musically - if anything, they've pushed our soundscape even further. Whether these 5 break the barrier that Virginia has, in my opinion, been unfairly placed in remains to be seen, but shedding light is the first step to any compromise, not solely critique. Therefore, without further ado, let's begin.

1. D.R.A.M.

Origin: Hampton, Virginia

The first feature on this list should come as the most obvious. Other than Logic, who admittedly had to release several mixtapes before receiving major buzz outside his home state, no other artist in recent memory from the DMV has reached the level of stardom that D.R.A.M. has managed to achieve. An acronym for "Does Real Ass Music", D.R.A.M. went from hometown hero from Hampton, Virginia to global sensation virtually overnight; starting in 2015 with the release of "Cha-Cha'. Drawing inspiration from Latin music as well as the dance of the same name, Cha-Cha fell off the radar after Drake released the viral sensation "Hotline Bling" shortly thereafter, which became the latter's first #1 hit on the Billboard 200 and bore a suspicious similarity to 'Cha-Cha' (a fact which D.R.A.M. and Drake both addressed in separate interviews). Not to be deterred, D.R.A.M. would experience massive exposure and success once again after teaming with Lil' Yachty and delivering the smash-record "Broccoli", which peaked at #5 on the charts, becoming the first Top 5 single of both artists careers and going quintuple-platinum in the process. His debut album, 'Big Baby D.R.A.M.', featured 'Broccoli' as its' lead single, as well as the popular singles 'Cash Machine' and 'Cute'. Pairing soul with infectious hooks, colorful delivery, and unmatched energy, D.R.A.M. is undoubtedly the crown jewel of Virginia at the moment, and if 2017 is any indication, no one will be snatching his crown anytime soon. Securing a global tour alongside Kendrick Lamar and working with legends such as The Gorillaz and Erykah Badu, D.R.A.M. is a leader of Virginia's new wave of up-tempo sound and melody of blues, evidenced by artists like Sunny & Gabe (who linked with Big Baby himself to give the world the ULTRA-late night vibe 'I Luv It') and Opal to name a couple. After announcing his sophomore album, scheduled for release in 2018, the sky is truly the limit for whatever D.R.A.M. aims to achieve throughout his already shining career.

💝 Recommends: "Throw It Around"

2. Kali Uchis

Origin: Alexandria, Virginia

Kali Uchis first broke onto the scene in 2014, collaborating with Snoop Dogg on the song "On Edge" from his mixtape 'That's My Work 3'. The following year, she released her debut studio project, a 9-track EP titled 'Por Vida' which featured production from Kaytranada, BADBADNOTGOOD, and Diplo, among others. That same year, Uchis embarked on her first tour with Leon Bridges, and less than 2 years later, was on tour again - except this time she was the headliner. A frequent collaborator of Tyler The Creator, Kali's dreamlike aesthetics and atmospheric songwriting set a tone like very few others before her, evidenced on songs/videos like 'Loner' and 'Know What I Want'. Lana Del Ray took notice of this, and enlisted her as an opening act on her upcoming "LA to The Moon" world tour to support the formers impending debut studio album, due for arrival in early 2018.

💝 Recommends: "Rush"

3. Lil’ Tracy

Origin: Virginia Beach, VA

Few took notice of 'Lil Tracy, born Jazz Butler in Virginia Beach, when he first began distributing music several years prior. Written off as merely another "emo-SoundCloud rapper", it wasn't until friend and close associate Lil’ Peep (along with Horse Head, Cold Hart, and Wicca Phase Springs Eternal, members of the collective GOTHBOICLIQUE which Tracy himself is a part of) began making waves that people started actually paying attention to his music. In the same, yet somehow abhorrently different view that Lil Uzi Vert defines himself as a rockstar, Tracy affirmatively labels himself as a 'popstar' - a claim he stood by adamantly enough to name his most recent effort 'Life of A Popstar', which featured the likes of Duwap Kaine and Smokepurpp. Weaving different instruments through all types of genres, blending it together with a brooding sound all his own, Tracy has yet to scratch the surface of the heights he could potentially reach once he manages to rid himself of the "only on SoundCloud" tag that unfamiliar listeners and critics have wrongly tacked upon him.

💝 Recommends: "Pictures"

4. Treez Lowkey

Origin: Newport News, VA

Search throughout all of Virginia, or all of the DMV for that matter, and you would be hard-pressed to find an artist on a bigger hot-streak than Treez Lowkey. After the release of the wildly popular singles 'D.O.A.', 'Joyride', and 'Pay Attention' in 2016, Treez followed through with the same lethal energy, focus, and execution that is quickly becoming synonymous with his music in 2017. No-nonsense bars and a take-no-prisoners approach to songwriting opened the door for the young MC to show off his wider-varied skill set, displayed on club jams like 'Not At All' (which you've undoubtedly heard at some DMV function or another). Treez has managed to make quite a name for himself over the past year, yet a prime focus of his is keeping the focus on home, working with on-the-rise VA acts like Bucky Malone and Bobby Blaze on the summer anthem 'Wi$hlist'. Racking up credentials from big-time publications 'Elevator' and 'The Fader' just to name a few, it remains to be seen just how far Treez can carry the ball for VA - but history has shown it would be unwise to bet against him. Lowkey? Anything but.

💝 Recommends: "No Hook"

5. Babeo Baggins

Origin: Leesburg, VA

Rounding out our top 5 of VA artists is 22 year old Aspen Eray, better known as Babeo Baggins, who along with the members of Barf Troop (a collective of cisgender artists who liken themselves as a "different type" of Odd Future, all identifiable by the 'babe' outline in their monikers) identifies herself as a "gender-fluid, non-binary person". Seriously. You can ask her yourself. Straight out of Leesburg, VA, Baggins rose from working retail at Urban Outfitters to a feature with Drake, and not just a feature - but the icon being photographed wearing a customary Barf Troop shirt. One of the leading, most innovative artists of the 'Tumblr era', Babeo's focus on spreading self-empowerment and pledging equal respect for men AND women through her music has made her a cult phenomenon. Barf Troop, as well as many of her followers and supporters, have commented on their support system as well as impact through the many passageways of social media, no doubt making Baggins - a great already in her own right, completely unrestricted in her way of thinking and unhinged in her musical approach - even more of a staple of a culture this new generation should strive for.

💝 Recommends: "BreakBeast"

So, there you have it. Five Virginia artists who I believe have made enough of a mark for VA to not be simply written off when it comes to 'DMV' music. Think I was wrong, or overlooked anyone else when creating this list? Contact Lovelace Magazine and send us your thoughts!! We welcome any and all outside opinions. Till then, one love, for the culture.

Written by Vin Atlas

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kansascityhappenings · 7 years ago

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Chris Cornell, Chester Bennington honored at VMAs

Chester Bennington, Chris Cornell

NEW YORK — Chester Bennington and Chris Cornell, rock stars who killed themselves earlier this year, were remembered at the 2017 MTV Video Music Awards.

Oscar winner Jared Leto, who is also the frontman of rock band 30 Seconds to Mars, said he toured with Bennington and Cornell, and spoke passionately Sunday about his friendship with Bennington, who rose to fame as the lead singer of Linkin Park.

“I see his face, which was always smiling … I think about how kindly he treated me, my brother, Tomo, our band … I think about his band, who were really his brothers and I remember his voice,” Leto said at the Forum in Inglewood, California. “That voice will live forever.”

Before announcing a video of Linkin Park performing at the 2010 VMAs, Leto told those who might be struggling at the moment: “Hear me now, you are not alone. There is always a way forward. Reach out. Share your thoughts. Do not give up.”

Cornell and Bennington were close friends, and Bennington was the godfather to Chris Cornell’s 11-year-old son. Cornell hanged himself in May and Bennington hanged himself in July.

It was a touching moment on a night dominated by Taylor Swift and Kendrick Lamar.

Swift debuted the eye-popping music video for “Look What You Made Me Do,” which featured the singer dressed like a zombie in one scene and surrounded by slithering snakes in another. The video for the track, rumored to be a diss toward Kanye West, also featured Swift in a tub of diamonds, a cat mask, and a car that crashed (she was holding a Grammy). The clip ended with a dozen of Swifts — in memorable outfits she’s worn in the past — portraying how the singer felt the media has portrayed her throughout the years.

Last year Swift and West’s feud hit a new height when Kim Kardashian West released audio recordings that she said proved Swift gave her husband the go-ahead for a Swift reference in the song “Famous.” Swift wiped her social media pages clean last week and caused a frenzy online with video snippets of slithery snake parts.

It was the biggest moment of the VMAs — so far.

Paris Jackson also turned some heads when she spoke about the recent rally in Charlottesville, Virginia.

“We must show these Nazi white supremacist jerks in Charlottesville, and all over the country, that as a nation with liberty as our slogan, we have zero tolerance for their violence and their hatred and their discrimination. We must resist,” Michael Jackson’s eldest daughter said before presenting the best pop video award to Fifth Harmony.

Fifth Harmony, who lost a group member last year, won the prize for their hit, “Down,” featuring rapper Gucci Mane. Ally Brooke and Dinah Jane of the group, who released a new album last week, were in tears as they accepted the award alongside Normani Kordei and Lauren Jauregui.

“This is honestly so unreal. Thank you to God and thank you to our families,” Jane said.

Fifth Harmony started their performance standing on high platforms to sing “Angel,” then falling backward like superheroes. Then followed it with the upbeat “Down,” taking a break from singing to perform some intense choreography. Later, water rained on the four girls, who dropped their microphones at the end of the performance.

Lorde, in tin foil half dress, pants and sneakers, danced throughout the performance of “Homemade Dynamite” instead of singing it because she had the flu, though audience members sang along to the audio of the song.

Kendrick Lamar, who won best hip-hop video, gave an explosive performance featuring his sharp raps and ninjas dancing near fire. The rapper performed the hits “Humble” and “DNA,” sporting a red jacket, red pants and white shirt, with a red lights beaming around him. He worked the stage while Pink, Calvin Harris, Logic and others nodded along.

At one point, one of the ninjas was on fire and danced near Lamar while he rapped.

Lamar is the leading nominee with eight, including video of the year for his anthemic No. 1 hit, “Humble.” Bruno Mars’ “24K Magic,” DJ Khaled and Rihanna’s “Wild Thoughts,” the Weeknd’s “Reminder” and Alessia Cara’s “Scars to Your Beautiful” are also up for the top prize.

“Despacito,” which was snubbed in the video of the year category, lost the only award it was nominated for: song of summer. Lil Uzi Vert’s Top 10 hit, “XO Tour Life,” won the prize.

Luis Fonsi and Daddy Yankee’s international hit is the most viewed video on YouTube and currently No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart. MTV said Universal Music Latin Entertainment didn’t submit the video, while the record label said they weren’t asked to send in the clip.

Ed Sheeran performed his hit, “Shape of You,” and was later joined by Lil Uzi Vert. Pink, who will also perform, will receive the Michael Jackson Video Vanguard Award. Rod Stewart will sing a reworked version of his hit “Da Ya Think I’m Sexy?” remotely from Las Vegas with pop band DNCE; Demi Lovato will also perform remotely from Vegas.

Khalid and Cardi B, whose song “Bodak Yellow (Money Moves)” is No. 3 on the Hot 100 chart, performed during the pre-show. Teyana Taylor — the star dancer of Kanye West’s “Fade” video and one of the video’s choreographers — won best choreography for the clip.

Show host Katy Perry opened the VMAs saying she just arrived from space to Earth and was dressed as a shiny, silver astronaut. Perry will perform later in the show.

MTV eliminated gender categories like best male and female video at this year’s VMAs, and they announced the artist of the year award. Nominees include Lamar, Mars, Sheeran, Ariana Grande, Lorde and the Weeknd.

Transgender members of the military walked the red carpet. On Friday, President Donald Trump directed the Pentagon to extend a ban on transgender individuals joining the military.

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports http://fox4kc.com/2017/08/27/chris-cornell-chester-bennington-honored-at-vmas/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2017/08/28/chris-cornell-chester-bennington-honored-at-vmas/

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tinymixtapes · 7 years ago

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Feature: 2017: Second Quarter Favorites

Half of the year is over, and we have done absolutely nothing with our lives. Very pathetic. The good news is that we use our ears to listen to music, so to celebrate, the TMT staff has once again come together to share our favorite releases of the last three months (give or take), compiled in the best format known to humankind. This time around, we were outside the club (Jlin), in the Devil’s book (Sarah Shook & The Disarmers), and on Google Hangouts (Kendrick Lamar), broadcasting live using algorithm-free YouTube (Future City Love Stories). There was glittery slime (cupcakKe), naturalistic abstractions (Lieven Martens), and condensed chunks of cut-open human organs (Pharmakon), with a range that went from pop (Lorde), narkpop (GAS), and contorted pop (Laurel Halo) to rock-star rappers (Playboi Carti), airbrushed nightcrawlers (99jakes), and mutilated tunes on the DAW floor (Khaki Blazer). Check the full list below, and as always, please take note of the shortlist, as these particular releases either weren’t heard enough yet to make the list or just fell short for various reasons. All worth a listen. Shortlist: The Caretaker’s Everywhere at the end of time: Stage 2, Upgrayedd Smurphy’s HYPNOSYS, Actress’s AZD, Slowdive’s Slowdive, $3.33’s DRAFT, Perfume Genius’s No Shape, Peace Forever Eternal’s Nextcentury, Cloud Rat & Moloch’s split, Babyfather’s Cypher, Russian Tsarlag’s Gel Stations Past, Ducktails’s Daffy Duck In Hollywood, Jefre Cantu-Ledesma’s On The Echoing Green, Elysia Crampton’s Spots y Escupitajo, RITCHRD’s GREATEST HITS, and Tara Jane O’Neil’s self-titled album. --- Laurel Halo Dust [Hyperdub] Dust’s single “Jelly” was a surprising teaser for fans of Laurel Halo, soberly announcing her return to vocal music with a big result. As the song resembles and contorts pop product, it’s vocoder — emblematic of 2012’s viscous and spacey Quarantine — serves the punctuated delivery of a funky Parliament-esque hook (“You don’t meet my standards for a friend…”), while collaborators Klein and Lafawndah deliver the remainder. The far-reaching influences found on “Jelly” came to be representative of Dust at large, an album that moves through its vibrant landscape of sounds and grooves in a way new to the artist behind it. “Moontalk” delivers a second blast of lopsided feel-good pop, Sam Hilmer’s saxophone rips on “Arschkriecher,” Michael Salu takes the stage on “Who Won?,” and the album ultimately subsides, taking space to explore old territory with the help of composer Eli Keszler. Dust is an exciting and adventurous release that couldn’t be more matter-of-fact. –Ben Levinson --- Playboi Carti Playboi Carti [Interscope] “I’m a rockstar” asserts Lil Uzi Vert in the intro to “wokeuplikethis,” the collaborative lead single off of Playboi Carti’s self-titled debut. Given the Atlanta native’s penchant for distorted, guitar-like synths and driving rhythms that often exceed 160 BPM, it wouldn’t be a stretch for us to extend the title to Carti, too. While “wokeuplikethis” is undeniably a track indebted to early rock & roll’s chugging groove — although one could even deem it pop-punk, taking its sparkly lead melodies and raspy, slacker vocals into consideration — Playboi Carti is evidence that its creator is something even greater. He’s sedimentary rock, a walking pastiche, the zeitgeist. He culls the best of 2016’s SoundCloud wave — its gravelly basslines, its chiming riffs — and blends it with well-curated bits of other subcultural ephemera. The transcendent beatswitch midway through “Location” integrates Macintosh Plus’s sloppily chopped aesthetic. “New Choppa,” featuring A$AP Rocky, delves into its own dark interpretation of chiptune. “Lame Niggaz” feels like a barebones deconstruction of PC Music’s unbridled optimism. Cash Carti’s everything that’s cool. He’s everything that’s ever been cool. –Jude Noel --- GAS Narkopop [Kompakt] Whatever happened to program music? We tend to think of the entire instrumental-pop umbrella, typically cast over both ambient and techno, as purely abstract. Wolfgang Voigt’s marriage of the two styles as GAS has especially been painted as a project concerning itself with the musical absolute. And yet, when you put your ear to the impenetrably thick walls built around Narkopop’s heartbeat-like low-end and contemplate the album’s wandering melodies and swift, unpredictably-resolving chord progressions, it’s hard to shake the feeling that there’s a story there. Not just the depiction of emotions or a mood, not just the aural rendering of “a nightclub in a forest,” but a plot, a character, and a conversation (or their multitude). Is it the movement of people through the European continent in its war-ridden past (or equally foreboding present)? Or is it more of a personal strife, the tale of a human struggling and succeeding, to various degrees, at finding solace? He would likely respond that there is none, but my question stands: What’s the story, Wolfgang? –Patryk Mrozek Narkopop by GASNarkopop by GAS --- Khaki Blazer Didn’t Have to Cut [Hausu Mountain] Pat Modugno when donning his Khaki Blazer is most known for his juddering, hypercaffeinated cut-ups and off-the-grid percussive discursions (scope the contemporaneous Speed Rack Willy), but on Didn’t Have to Cut, he seems to be taking our boy Gotye’s words to heart. Not only do we choose when and where to cut, but we could also decide not to do it at all. Modugno, thinking of all those tunes left mutilated on the DAW floor, must’ve had a change of heart, a turn away from the neo-dadaist massacres he seemed to so gleefully perpetuate. He still collages with the best of ‘em, but Didn’t Have to Cut gives each sound a little more room, a little more time to express itself. From the complete wheezer of “Comfortably Grey” to the slow-tone torture of “Saturn Rings” to the sheer psychic insinuation of “Hold Your Breath and Count,” everyone swarms and squiggles and sighs and squawks a little more thoughtfully. Still, the crowning achievement is the strung-out electric allolalia of “Death Bedhead,” featuring some famous singer I used to know. Didn’t Have to Cut is perhaps the most truly strange thing of 2017 so far, a melted, lopsided chimera roaring, bleating, and hissing its way into our hearts. –Cynocephalus Didn't Have To Cut by Khaki BlazerDidn't Have To Cut by Khaki Blazer --- Félicia Atkinson Hand In Hand [Shelter Press] Hand in hand, I’m watching the places where fingers tip into edges where I end. The fingernail barriers blood vessel and lymph and nerve from the wilderness. The fingernail keeps the self-stuff safe. Keratogenous upkeep is self-atomizing with clipper and file, a breaking for building to remind us that split bone is trauma but broken nail is health. All sounds are found in the breaking. All found breaks are Hand in Hand, the discarded sounds we shed to be. Voice is a buzz a bass a kiss a house a dance a poem. It sounds in slivers, these uncovered discards, this mode of droned bone jutting into distal digits. Dis-uncovery is wiping it away while rubbing it in. It’s in us. Félicia splints (our) nervous material like steel kissing keratin. Slip pinches hangnails. Bones break flesh, in-grown you. Infections are plausible. Fungi whine in crevices. In clips. Is imperfect. She skitters. We whisper. Listen. I’m following you. Take care. –Frank Falisi Hand In Hand by Félicia AtkinsonHand In Hand by Félicia Atkinson [pagebreak] Ryuichi Sakamoto async [Milan] When Ryuichi Sakamoto was diagnosed with throat cancer, no one knew how long he had to live. After around 40 years with Yellow Magic Orchestra — as well as many years as a solo composer — Sakamoto didn’t know if it’d be possible to ever make music again. “My faith in ‘health’ was crushed… I could have lost my voice, so I feel very lucky that I didn’t,” he shared with The New York Times. But with time, the 65-year-old composer slowly returned to the piano to give us async, 14 tracks of sobering reflection that meditate on the underlying grief at the heart of his health. Pooling influence from Andrei Tarkovsky and the piano meditations of Claude Debussy, async is about as uncomfortably intimate as instrumental music can be. Tracks like “walker” and “disintegration” feel of a certain post-Cagean tradition yet bask in a crushing fragility that borrows more from the emotive terrain of film composition than it does from art world experimentalism. “Ff,” “stakra,” and “ZURE” offer warm synths with a harrowing sparseness, while “fullmoon” includes a quote from Paul Bowles, one that’s light, yet aching in their harrowing detail. For all of its baggage in personal narrative, async continues much of what makes Sakamoto’s film work breathtaking with a handful of rich pieces at the height of the emotional spectrum. –Rob Arcand --- Jlin Black Origami [Planet Mu] The outward expansion of footwork has yielded many meta-narratives, all inextricably bound by a sense of propulsive energy — be it a frantic release schedule, marked by a saturation of physical releases and SoundCloud drops, or the will to stretch and mutate the methodological lexicon for the circle beyond. Never created, never destroyed; Jlin taps into the latter impulse once again with Black Origami, a renegotiation of the truncated vision of footwork posited by Dark Energy. Between percussive modes via India and Africa, and the divergent compositional methods of Basinski, Herndon, and Fawkes, these dark energies are (as the title suggests) continuously folded and refolded, enveloped and developed, resulting in one of the densest and most challenging sets of footwork yet. Wordless coos (“Enigma,” “Calcination”) pierce the void; meanwhile, “1%” quite literally dials up the madness, interjecting samples amongst characteristically throttling drum hits and transmuting bass. Make no mistake, Jlin is operating way outside the club here. Questions of identity and psychogeography aside, the pull of Black Origami lies in the physicality of its Delphic complexity — a kind of corporeal braindance — so consider it a sizable gauntlet to body music hereafter. Oh, and good luck dancing to the next one. –Soe Jherwood Black Origami by JlinBlack Origami by Jlin --- Future City Love Stories Future City Love Stories [BLCR Laboratories] The BLCR Laboratories debut of Future City Love Stories (a.k.a. Dream Catalogue CEO, a.k.a. HKE, a.k.a. [every last a.k.a. imaginable]) finds spectacular foundations for the self-titled release’s existence on the audible milieu of atmosphere. There is no “real” rhythm or reason unfolding within the chapters of Future City Love Stories, just architectural patterns. Existence as lingering footsteps in the background. Haunting echoes vibrating throughout empty alleys and alcoves. The sound of rain down the road turns out to be televisions left on static in a storefront window. Explanations withdrawn with, “Neverminds.” A voice intentionally lost in translation. Blurring lights that even up close hum a glow of aura. Dumpster fires. Pockets of wafting smells entangle the senses. Enough narrative imagination in ethereal splendor for listeners to create their very own Future City Love Stories. Come out and play forever. –C Monster Future City Love Stories by Future City Love StoriesFuture City Love Stories by Future City Love Stories --- Sarah Shook & The Disarmers Sidelong [Bloodshot] “What kind of music do you usually have here?” Country AND western, honky AND tonk, punk AND queer… wait, what? Sarah Shook plays smoky raw alt-country that contrasts a subtle defiance of gender stereotypes with a proud and triumphant embodiment of another trope, the country legend on a path to hell paved with bad intentions and slippery with moonshine. Country may be the music of pain, but if you need something to rile you up, the driving outlaw rhythms here’ll get the job done too. Shook’s voice is an extraordinary instrument — rough-edged and velvety by turn, with a rattling quiver and a broken lilt that’ll break your heart right along with it. Sidelong inscribes her name, alongside Lydia Loveless and Hank Williams III, in the Devil’s book. –Rowan Savage Sidelong by Sarah Shook & the DisarmersSidelong by Sarah Shook & the Disarmers --- Arca Arca [XL] Electronic music has an odd relationship with vocals. They’re polarized along the spectrum of directness, either fully obscured or so loaded with emotional cues as to seem heavy-handed. The notion of the electronic singer-songwriter is nearly extinct, word to James Blake. Arca found a way to bridge that gap, speaking both through his production and his own voice, and transmitting gripping affect on two levels: the pure sound of his voice, a universal language, and the massive (but nuanced) emotional conveyance of the lyrics themselves, sung in his native Spanish. Whether you speak the language or not, Arca seizes control, making himself clearer to the listener than ever before. –Corrigan B --- Lieven Martens Gardens, Fire and Wine (A Compilation) [Edições CN] Quietly, he picks out postcards under a bright moon. The street murmurs, the water laps. Slowly, softly, a certain psychedelia seeps in, of the visitor, in transit, appearing, displacement. And the words come, briefly. In summary. To try to speak to transitory and totalizing experiences. Swaths of moments, and to honor them, particularly. Moods, tones, warped glimpses. A gesture. Plus all that’s ungraspable, well-traveled. I picked this one out just for you. Wish you were here. Signed Lieven Martens, who equates the seven soundscapes on Gardens, Fire and Wine (A Compilation) with a set of seven postcards. They go around the world; it’s a miracle. Delivery, like a whisper. Words laid bare for you, again, actually, as many of these tracks were previously released on 7-inches and cassettes between 2012-15. Compiled, they span from documents of live performances to naturalistic abstractions. But, again, in the wonderful words of Martens, they’re not quite that. More, “a series of images, not reissues yet self-captured.” Words touched heart. Simply. What did he write? He wrote of all sorts of good soil. Thank the glaciers, the volcanoes. –Cookcook Gardens, Fire and Wine (A Compilation) by Lieven MartensGardens, Fire and Wine (A Compilation) by Lieven Martens [pagebreak] cupcakKe Queen Elizabitch [Self-Released] Saying that this [title with a strong female lead] is anything like MC Lyte or Lil Kim would be as lazy and as sexist as it is glaringly false. Elizabeth Harris (nope, not this one) is a motherfucking kraken on Queen Elizabitch, spitting glittery slime from her furry pink tentacles until you submit. Straight up, Queen Elizabitch is filthy as fuck, hilarious as Hell, and hard as a dick while she’s rapping. Put squarely, this shit is BOLD, and it’s not lost on us that being a female MC in this context requires an impossible balance between class and crass. I can’t deny that cupcakKe’s notorious guttermouth is what pulled me in, but in all honesty, what has kept me coming back is her unmatched consistency in a game dominated by warbling cocks. This shit slays on a Blueprint level. That it would probably still slay on a Kingdom Come level is a reflection of her unsolicited ferocity. However we heard it, I’m glad we listened. –Jackson Scott --- Chino Amobi PARADISO [UNO NYC/NON] Tiny Mix Tapes has been covering Chino Amobi since at least 2012, when he was known as Diamond Black Hearted Boy. As it turns out, 2012 also was the year yours truly started writing for TMT — and my last name really is Diamond, by the way; it’s not a moniker like C Monster. Fun fact: C got me this gig. He was listening to Chino back when Chino was Diamond Black Hearted Boy. I faintly remember him telling me about Diamond Black Hearted Boy, and my reply being something like,”’Diamond Hard Blue Apples of the Moon?’ Dope song, bro.” He definitely told me about Chino Amobi later too, but I just thought he was talking about the guy from The Deftones. The point is, not all of us TMTers are in-the-know experimental music scholars with master’s degrees, and some of us who are are secretly borderline illiterate, but most all of us thoroughly enjoy Chino Amobi’s PARADISO and its arcane references, sudden outbursts, and the way those elements play off of one another, like close friends with similar interests and backgrounds but little else in common. Cages this weekend? –Samuel Diamond PARADISO by Chino AmobiPARADISO by Chino Amobi --- Richard Dawson Peasant [Weird World] The curtain rises; before us, a paddock of aged grass, overcast with swelling clouds, while somewhere nearby, there lays a whimpering collie “under a whining bush… seized by a fit.” A house sits in the corner of the enclosure, steam escaping through the windows — inside, there keeps “a cauldron of pummeled gall-nuts afloat in urine/ add river-water thrice-boiled with a bloodstone.” On the wall, a painting has begun to drip from the humidity, its seaside pastoral molting into something almost unrecognizable, as if suddenly one can see “in the face of the cliff/ a ghastly doorway.” Beyond the doorway lies a kingdom of gold, a place where “a child can be bought for a year’s worth of grain,” and “fortune wags its tongue along the walkways of the bathhouse.” Innocents lay lifeless on the street corner, and as the music of war begins to stir once again, somewhere far away, “the rolling fields grow dark as the grave/ and I am fleeing for my life.” –SZG --- Pharmakon Contact [Sacred Bones] Shortly before the release of Contact, Pharmakon played a memorial show for those who lost their lives in the Oakland Ghost Ship fire. The show was also a fundraiser for the Trans Assistance Project in honor of Feral Pines, a transwoman who was among those who died. I didn’t know Feral personally, but many of the people I went to the show with did. Pharmakon played a short set, a single song off Contact. A great chunk of the audience cried. Contact is an industrial-noise record, a condensed chunk of materialized, cut-open human organs, a manifestation of pain and fury and sadness. Terribly abrasive, yes, but it reminds us that such horror-totems are also a locus for contact. There’s a great deal of space in this record, gaps between aural saturation, pockets to curl up and gather and weep in between sheets of oblivion. We can gather around a shared wound. We can hold hands. Contact is an assault and an opening-up. –Jeffrey Dunn Rovinelli Contact by PharmakonContact by Pharmakon --- 99jakes Birthday Party (Not Our Birthday) [Self-Released] “You would cry too if it happened to you.” INT. MOTEL ROOM — NIGHT. SALEM and GFOTY moved into a vacancy together at the edge of town, a few miles past the last gas station but before you get to the cornfields. It always looks red in their room, because they keep a neon sign glowing all through the clear-blue night. We’re throwing a birthday party for their overdue baby, and we just had to book 99jakes, the holy sacrilegious DJ broadcasting live from the forest using algorithm-free YouTube. The party is for jakes only, sorry, but you’re a jake. You might’ve RSVPd “Going” on Facebook high as fuck at 2:35 AM, but you were not ready for this party. Airbrushed nightcrawlers are scurrying on the walls, moms and ravers are talking Yu-Gi-Oh!, and one of the jakes keeps trying to start a food fight with this cardboard cutout of Magneto. Another jake is genuinely sobbing about their weekly horoscope. It’s a new moon and the party is over, but after the afterparty, we’re playing 7th Guest. For keeps. Watch it, dude. –Pat Beane --- Aaron Dilloway The Gag File [Dais] Cigarette butts litter the floor. Empty beer bottles are strewn across the room. The walls in the house are that dark-brown, stained-wood paneling of which the 70s were so fond. The carpet might as well be orange if it actually isn’t. Remnants of paraphernalia are on a glass-top table in front of a couch. There’s a stale smell in the air. A low thud lopes along in the background. You can vaguely make out that music is playing, but you don’t know what it is… there’s mostly muddy bass frequencies. Random conversations are taking place in this room, but you’re not really a part of any of them. You’re just observing. Down a hallway and through a bedroom door is a familiar smile. A kind of vaguely eerie, expressionless smile that you pull a string to animate. While pulling the string, a busted speaker inside of it creaks to life, announcing “kill away” with a cackle. You ghost this scene immediately. –Joe Davenport The Gag File by Aaron DillowayThe Gag File by Aaron Dilloway [pagebreak] Chief Keef Thot Breaker [Glo Gang] When I reviewed Two Zero One Seven in January, I felt obligated to excavate a rough sketch of Chief Keef’s disperse, ephemeral, and notoriously leaky catalogue, ending with the question of whether Thot Breaker (which had already been suspended in the limbo of hypothetical Keef releases since 2015) would ever come out. So in a surprise befitting Sosa’s winking demeanor, it makes a kind of cosmic sense that Thot Breaker would not only be released, but also that it would be an actual album, delicately mastered and thoughtfully sequenced, showcasing the evolution of Keith Cozart’s blossoming vision as a full-throated producer of singular and ambitious pop music. And the music is what shines: falsetto, autotune harmonies hang in the nausea of drum-barren and baroque lean-scapes, where the absurd poignancy of Keef’s lyricism glimmers, finally equilibrated to the left-field intuitions of his own production style (aided here by resident team Young Chop and CBMix, as well as a lone Mike WiLL Made-It spot). Standouts like “Alone (Intro),” the drumless ballad “Slow Dance,” stadium-dubstep barnstormer “Whoa,” and the inevitable lean-sipping ode “Drank Head” are legitimate ruptures in the Keef canon and, if we are to take the artist at face value (which we should), aesthetics more generally — they only require the audience to unsee a false history, and to accept the psychedelic, finessed vulnerability being offered on Thot Breaker. –Nick Henderson --- Nkisi Kill [MW] The only voice you hear on Kill bellows at the beginning of “Can You See Me,” asking with force, “Can you hear me? Do you know who I am? Can you see me? I live in the dark.” Brief and deliberate, the first official record by Nkisi, a co-founder of the explosively influential NON collective, somehow gets right up in its listener’s face while retaining its basic anonymity. The title track opens the record in a rolling, percussive euphoria, giving way to a kind of double-bridge in which manic beeping morphs into a dramatic trance arp. There are more shades of trance in the emotional denouement of “Parched Lips,” while both “Can You See Me” and “MWANA” rely on their nervous, nonlinear ascent toward climax. These are unique, collage-like tracks that still fit well within the massive, oddly shaped space Nkisi and associates have carved for themselves, blending a familiarly frenetic swing of snares into conversation with some evocative and incidental techniques of composition. Living in the dark, Kill offers a few scattered rays of light. –Will Neibergall --- Lorde Melodrama [Republic] Lorde is one of those ultimate artists who has achieved both top-level mainstream cred and top-level indie cred. You really can’t dislike her from any angle or you risk being seen as uncool, a fate truly worse than death. This is because, in contrast to most other pop today (most of which is pure garbage), her music is emotionally intuitive and refreshingly honest, with interesting insights into her social life and her love life. The production is airy, crisp, and occasionally sparse, giving the feeling that each sound and gesture was thoroughly considered and chosen for good reasons. These are true reflections of a partier, singing about the feelings that drive her to party and the feelings she’s left with when the party ends. That’s where Lorde transcends most pop music today: where most music regresses into trite politics or benign observations about life, her music is fairly particular and contains powerful ruminations that all people can relate to, because partying rules. Life is about the balance of partying and being sad. --- Ace Mo Black Populous [Bootleg Tapes] In any true Catholic family, there are over four aunts or uncles and subsequently dozens of first and second cousins who get placed in three categories: often, sometimes, and who? The “oftens” are there every holiday whose birthdays you’re dragged to; the “sometimes” are out-of-state cousins who you see enough to consistently dislike and/or smoke weed with in the alleyway; and the “whos?” are the reason why you address everyone as “bud” or “friend.” Ace Mo and the entirety of Bootleg Tapes have quickly risen from a “who?” to the highest ground of “often”: the sitcom best-friend cousin, transcending the ranks into a must-see, need-to-chill-with cousin. Can there be a brightest-star, favorite cousin within Bootleg Tapes? We refuse to answer that. But damn: as of this writing, he is the face off/banner kid of their Bandcamp, and Black Populous is bringing in a whole new appreciation for the label. So, what we’re saying is, Ace Mo, I have the dro, and we’re eating heavy always; see you at the next major holiday, and an AFX-style-remix-fanboy thanks to you. –Monet Maker Black Populous by AceMoBlack Populous by AceMo --- Medslaus Poorboy Self-Released If the most boring drums a rap producer can program go boom boom bap boom boom boom bap, then the second most boring drums a rap producer can program go ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka and the third most boring go ticka ticka boom bap ticka ticka ticka ticka bap, and so on. If I’m oversimplifying, I apologize — the point is: Slauson Malone doesn’t make beats you’ve heard before, and on the occasion that he employs a familiar sample, like on “Follies (P.M.W.),” the sumbitch gets turned out. Melodics become riddims and vice versa such that no two tracks ever sound the same. As for Slauson’s vocal counterpart, the first time I heard Medhane, I thought he was alright but steadily overshadowed by his producer. Post-Poorboy, I’m starting to think that’d be like saying Guru was overshadowed by Premier. And this is after just their second project together!? If these kids get any better, you’re all going to be out of a job. Chief Keef’s going to need to take a civil service exam or some shit. Rappaz rn dainja and beats are obsolete. Go ahead with that. –Samuel Diamond --- Kendrick Lamar DAMN. [Top Dawg] Okay, so you’re not AIM buddies with Kendrick Lamar, but… doesn’t it feel like you kinda could be? The most over-the-top thing about DAMN. wasn’t that it sounded like the work of some untouchable megastar off on his own trip; it was the feeling that an easygoing, all-around “nice dude” who lives down the hall from you cobbled this shit together on his PC in the lonely-but-spacious hours between night shifts and day jobs. The shots fired on DAMN. didn’t feel so much “shockingly revolutionary” as they did “shockingly relatable.” It pretty much felt like Lamar was sending you a MediaFire link containing the mundane, silly, scared, honest fruits of a secret-hobby on Google Hangouts and then insecurely asking you what you thought of it right on the spot. Then, he anxiously watched the screen as you typed back your near-speechless, one-word response: “DAMN.” –Dan Smart http://j.mp/2tn2dfT

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