#ventor

[galkfire]

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Old school KREATOR!!

[metalspitfire6g6g6g]

~Kreator~Awakening of the Gods~

[metalsongoftheday]

Thursday, November 23: Kreator, "Army of Storms"

Gods of Violence was more than just a continuation of Kreator’s remarkable hot streak- it was an escalation and elevation of the simultaneously manic, focused and hooky aggression Mille Petrozza, Ventor and crew had been consistently delivering since Violent Revolution all the way back in 2001, and turned out to be something of a late-career masterpiece.  There was a bit more of a groove to “Army of Storms”, but it still kicked ass mightily, with Petrozza snarling and gargling in fine form and the band sounding so purposeful they were basically undeniable.  There was a ruthless efficiency to Kreator at their prime, and the track was of a piece with their recent material while also amplifying the signal with a balance of tightness and frazzled fury.

[fortheloveofgarythain]

Rob's hair tho... 😜

🥝💚🖤

[stoneoferech]

Kreator "Army of Storms"

[depressocafe]

The real shipment that deserved better. They both deserved better. R.I.P loveys.

Ventor kisses!

[slaughterlmao]

[datamodel-of-disaster]

Adept Saralis Ventor, one of the main characters from my admech-centric romance fic Intuitive Mechanics. For those of you who enjoy a bit of slow-burn robot romance... it IS completed.

(I have no idea why Tumblr makes the image fuzzy, it's fine if you click it)

[septusuki]

How to render the 'Ventorer' Salute! As of 7th Maye. Please dispose of leaflet past expiry date.

She should've disposed of this leaflet two years ago. Eufthem is rarely impressed by the lurching, near-instantaneous turnover of the instructional catalogs. By the time she returns to Earth, there will no doubt be a new one. Maybe two new ones; meta-history that will eventually become relegated to sheer drudgery: required reading for some reason. Just so she knows the correct method of not doing the salute. Regardless, she flips through the battered little pamphlet for the tenth time that day, pretending there is some nuance or tiny detail that only she has the eyes to pick up. Something that'll blow the truth of this 'voyage' wide open.

Step 1: Left hand over your right chest. Right hand stretched out and perpendicular to yourself.

Eufthem follows the instructions. Right hand out, left hand over the chest. She has no choice, really. The actual recommended reading bookcase is out of the reach of the auto-throne. For months, she's had to make do with the pitiful scraps of non-fiction she'd brought over to the throne before even landing on Thiterra-III. That, and the report typewriter, which she's made barely-legal use of and written three quarters of a novel inside of. She reminds herself that she'll need to delete it.

Step 2: Make a small circle with your third and fourth fingers, by touching them to the tip of your thumb.

Eufthem wonders, whilst looking at the illustration just beneath the instruction; how will the salute have changed? It's been three-point-six years since her departure. Since then, the upper brass could have moulded this semi-elegant little salute beyond recognition. The flightpath part is non-negotiable, but beyond that, it's free game. Perhaps the flightpath will be made with just the first finger and thumb. Perhaps it'll be done with your other hand. Eufthem already feels the aching in her muscle memory.

Step 3: Bring your right arm around, keeping the flightpath salute stationary at all times. Once your hand has reached your left shoulder, snap to attention.

Eufthem likes to think she's quite good at this part, as little as it matters. She brings her hand around slowly, almost hypnotically, letting her outstretched fingers trail behind the hand like they're being dragged through clay. She snaps to attention, waits a moment, and then snickers as she hears the OK light on her Ventorer allspec suit flash to green with a little ding!. For the tenth time today, she is lauded with soundless applause. Congratulations, Eufthem.

Step 4: UNTO YOUR GLORIOUS RETURN, VENTORER!

Eufthem can't quite manage this part. It always dredges up memories of her own departure. Her own 'glorious return'. Three-point-six years ago; when she, too, was the brave hero being sent off to check Thiterra-III for it's habitability. When she was dumped into this cramped shuttle, patted on the back, and jumped into a wormhole. At least there'd been a feast beforehand. It'd been fun, before the utter boredom of it all had set in. Mind-melting routine, burnt into the brain like the glow of snow-plains. The Qualli corporation hadn't even seen fit to deck out the shuttle with a cryo-unit - only three months! You'll be fine! In their defense, Eufthem had gotten very good at minesweeper.

Finally, though, Eufthem can set this leaflet aside. Not just set it aside; straight up throw it - punt it - across the shuttle's deck floor. She can use it to vent just an ounce of her own frustration. The leaflet pauses in mid-air, robbed of all of it's momentum all of a sudden, and then drops to the floor as the intra-shuttle grav systems remember what they're supposed to be doing. Eufthem herself is sick for a moment as her every cell cycles through the least-offensive hundred degrees of temperature, worms about for a moment, and then settles down. An entire backflip, whilst sitting still. If she hadn't been hooked into the auto-throne, it's bio-control systems wouldn't have been there to quell anything. She'd have puked onto the floor, and maybe passed out, face-down on the puddle she'd just created. Green check-lights wink in sequence, sending their light down, across the insides of the shuttle like a runway. WORMHOLE CLOSED. DISEMBARKATION BEGINNING.

Forget the auto-throne. Eufthem is sick this time, as anxiety peaks across her body. It almost begins, as the foreign chemicals rooted in her gut giggle and obsess over the adrenaline they've suddenly been blessed with. It is also promptly cut off, as three times as much norepinephrine arrives to attack it. Eufthem calms down so very much that she almost forgets what she needs to do next. Her neurons are blitzed with by the conflicting need to do everything all at once, and go back to sleep.

[fortheloveofgarythain]

Rob is gorgeous. 😊 Makes sense that Fioretti means "little flower" in Italian.

[galkfire]

EARLY KREATOR/TORMENTOR!!!

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Kreator

[metalspitfire6g6g6g]

~Kreator~Endless Pain~

[metalsongoftheday]

Monday, May 22: Kreator, “Civilization Collapse”

Phantom Antichrist was generally well-regarded upon release, and it proved to be the midpoint in a rather remarkable creative run for Kreator: although Hordes of Chaos was a bit inconsistent, Mille Petrozza, Ventor and crew barely made a false move in the 20+ years since the hard reset of Violent Revolution.  And “Civilization Collapse” fell right within their sweet spot, working with precision and a strange catchiness while also hovering on the edge of chaos.  Petrozza’s frazzled croaking aptly conveyed the freakout he was aiming for, and overall this was Teutonic thrash of fairly high order. “Civilization Collapse” didn’t reinvent anything for Kreator, and in some respects was rather interchangeable relative to what they’d been doing for the last decade, but that spoke to how they maintained such a lengthy hot streak.

[fortheloveofgarythain]

Fucking models... 🥲😶‍🌫️

Rob's hair... 🥵😢