#walker and wylde

[sock-ness-monster]

A collection of some of my favorite lyrics

Greed by Patrick Stump, Djessie by Jacob Collier, Soap by the Oh hellos, Curse of the Blackened Eye by Orville Peck, the Road from Starry, Rather Low by Nick Shoulders, Pliocene by Cosmo Sheldrake, Astronomer from Ghost Quartet, Laughter Lines by Bastille, Let it Fall by Walker and Wylde, and What the Rocks Don't Know by Willie Carlisle

[fsheryy]

he said it !!! that's the name of the show what !!!!!!

anyway silly idea that popped into my head what if the Ninja unknowingly already came across Jay and smth resurfaces in him

[joayoscorner]

ha

(og images below cut)

i was bored lol

[anarchypumpkincowboy]

Okay idk if y’all listen to blue jay walker (you should) but his new song “Saint Daisy” is so good

I was gonna add some lyrics but I couldn’t choose so like if you like folk music go listen here’s the link for Spotify. He’s also got an excellent mullet song “Everybody Thinks They’re The One To Get Away”

[thesiltverses]

I don’t know who types up the ask answers on this blog but to whoever’s reading this: how do you all feel about being alive and sentient? What keeps you going, what purpose propels you through this chaotic void? What do you think (or hope) waits for you after your inevitable end? What do you think constitutes a life well lived?

I'm going to answer this in the most wayward and stupidly overlong manner possible, because the previous ask had me thinking about puppets, and I was already mid-way through writing up a book recommendation that's semi-relevant to your questions.

Everyone (but especially people who've enjoyed The Silt Verses and all the folks on Tumblr who loved Piranesi by Susanna Clarke) ought to seek out Riddley Walker by Russell Hoban.

Riddley Walker is a wild and woolly story set in post-apocalyptic Kent, where human society has (d)evolved into a Bronze Age collective of hunter-gatherer settlements. Dogs, apparently blaming us for our crimes against the world, have become our predators, hunting us through the trees. Labourers kill themselves unearthing ancient machinery that they cannot possibly understand.

A travelling crowd of thugs led by a Pry Mincer collect taxes and attempt to impose themselves upon those around them with a puppet-show - the closest possible approximation of a TV show - that tells a mangled story of the world's destruction, featuring a Prometheus-esque hero called Eusa who is tempted by the Clevver One into creating the atomic bomb.

Riddley himself, a twelve-year-old folk hero in-the-making surrounded by strange portents, ends up sowing the seeds of rebellion and change by becoming a conduit for the anti-tutelary anarchic madness (one apparently buried in our collective unconscious) of Punch 'n' Judy.

It's a book in love with twisted reinterpretation, the subjectivity of interpretation, buried or forbidden truths coming back to light (the opening quote is a curious allegory about reinvention and cyclical change from the extra-canonical Gospel of Thomas, which is a good joke and mission statement on a couple levels at once) and human beings somehow stumbling into forms of wisdom or insight through clumsy and nonsensical attempts to make sense of a world that is simply beyond them.

It rocks.

The book starts like this:

On my naming day when I come 12 I gone front spear and kilt a wyld boar he parbly the las wyld pig on the Bundel Downs any how there hadnt ben none for a long time befor him nor I aint looking to see none agen. He dint make the groun shake nor nothing like that when he come on to my spear he wernt all that big plus he lookit poorly. He done the reqwyrt he ternt and stood and clattert his teef and made his rush and there we wer then. Him on 1 end of the spear kicking his life out and me on the other end watching him dy. I said, 'Your tern now my tern later.'

Riddley's devolved language - a trick which has been nicked/homaged by many other works, most notably Cloud Atlas and Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome - is a masterwork choice which may seem offputting or overwhelming at first, but which has its own brutal poetry and cadence to it, and ultimately which makes us slow down as readers and unpick the wit, puns, double-meanings and playful themes buried in line after line.

(Even those first five sentences get us thinking about cyclical change, ritual and myth in opposition to the dissatisfactions of reality, and 'tern' to paradoxically indicate a rebellious change in direction but also an obedient acceptance of inevitable death.)

In one of my favourite passages in literature and a statement of thought that means a lot to me, Riddley has been smoking post-coital weed with Lorna, a 'tel-woman', who unexpectedly declares her belief in a kind of irrational, monstrous Logos that lives in us, wears us like clothes, and drives us onwards for its own purpose:

'You know Riddley theres some thing in us it dont have no name.' I said, 'What thing is that?' She said, 'Its some kynd of thing it aint us but yet its in us. Its lookin out thru our eye hoals...it aint you nor it dont even know your name. Its in us lorn and loan and shelterin how it can.' 'Tremmering it is and feart. It puts us on like we put on our cloes. Some times we dont fit. Some times it cant fynd the arm hoals and it tears us a part. I dont think I took all that much noatis of it when I ben yung. Now Im old I noatise it mor. It dont realy like to put me on no mor. Every morning I can feal how its tiret of me and readying to throw me a way. Iwl tel you some thing Riddley and keap this in memberment. What ever it is we dont come naturel to it.' I said, 'Lorna I dont know what you mean.' She said, 'We aint a naturel part of it. We dint begin when it begun we dint begin where it begun. It ben here befor us nor I dont know what we are to it. May be weare jus only sickness and a feaver to it or boyls on the arse of it I dont know. Now lissen what Im going to tel you Riddley. It thinks us but it dont think like us. It dont think the way we think. Plus like I said befor its afeart.' I said, 'Whats it afeart of?' She said, 'Its afeart of being beartht.'

While Hoban is, I think, deeply humanistic to his bones and even something of a wayward optimist, the notion of human beings as helpless and ignorant vessels, individual carriers - puppets, if you like - for an unknowable and awful inhuman power-in-potentia and life-drive that lacks a true shape or intent beyond its own continued survival (even when that means destroying us or visiting us with agonising atrophy in the process) conjures up the pessimism of Thomas Ligotti, another big influence on our work and a dude who was really into his marionettes-as-metaphor.

Let's go to him now for his opinion on the thing that lives beneath our skin. Thomas?

Through the prophylactic of self-deception, we keep hidden what we do not want to let into our heads, as if we will betray to ourselves a secret too terrible to know… …(that the universe is) a play with no plot and no players that were anything more than portions of a master drive of purposeless self-mutilation. Everything tears away at everything else forever. Nothing knows of its embroilment in a festival of massacres… Nothing can know what is going on.

Curiously, both Ligotti and Riddley Walker have appeared in the music of dark folk band Current 93, whose track In The Heart Of The Wood And What I Found There directly homages the novel and ends with the repeated words,

"All shall be well," she said But not for me

These words, in turn, hearken back to Kafka's* famous reported conversation with Max Brod:

'We are,' he said, 'nihilistic thoughts, suicidal thoughts that rise in God's head.' This reminded me of the worldview of the gnostic: God as an evil demiurge, the world as his original sin. 'Oh no', he said, 'our world is only a bad, fretful whim of God, a bad day.' 'So was there - outside of this world that we know - hope?' He smiled: 'Oh, hope - there is plenty. Infinite hope, just not for us."

So, we walk on.

We carry this thing that's riding on our backs, endlessly bonded to it, feeling its weight more and more with every passing day, unable to turn to look at it. Buried truths come briefly to life, and are hidden from us again. Perhaps they weren't truths at all. We couldn't stand to look the truth directly in the eyes in any case.

If there is hope, it's for the thing that looks out from our eyeholes, which thinks us but cannot think like us. We'll never get to where we're going, and the thing will never be born. There's no hope for it. Perhaps we don't want it to win anyway. It's nothing, and the key to everything.

The Jesus from the Gospel of Thomas says:

'When you see your own likeness, you rejoice. But when you see the visions that formed you and existed before you, which do not perish and which do not become visible - how much then will you be able to bear?'

Kafka, writing to his father, begins by expressing the inexpressibility of his own divine terror:

You asked me why I am afraid of you. I did not know how to answer - partly because of my fear, partly because an explanation would require more than I could make coherent in speech…even in writing, the magnitude of the causes exceeds my memory and my understanding.

Kafka concludes that while he cannot ever truly explain himself, and that the accusations in his letter are neat subjectivities that fail to account for the messiness of reality, perhaps 'something that in my opinion so closely resembles the truth…might comfort us both a little and make it easier for us to live and die.'**

It doesn't bring comfort to Kafka, whose diarised remarks both before and after the 1919 letter make it clear that he views his relationship with the things (people) that birthed him as an endless entrapment that prevents him from attaining any kind of self-actualisation or even comfort, since he cannot escape their influence or remember a time before them:

I was defeated by Father as a small boy and have been prevented since by pride from leaving the battleground, despite enduring defeat over and over again.

It's as if I wasn't fully born yet...as if I was dissolubly bound to these repulsive things (my parents).*** The bond is still attached to my feet, preventing them from walking, from escaping the original formless mush. That's how it is sometimes.

Samuel Beckett returns again and again (aptly) to this pursuit of a state of true humanity and final understanding that is at once fled and unrecoverable, yet to be born, never to be born, never-existed, endlessly to be pursued, pointless to pursue. From the astonishing end sequence of The Unnameable:

alone alone, the others are gone, they have been stilled, their voices stilled, their listening stilled, one by one, at each new-com- ing, another will come, I won’t be the last. I’ll be with the others. I’ll be as gone, in the silence, it won’t be I, it’s not I, I’m not there yet. I’ll go there now. I’ll try and go there now, no use trying, I wait for my turn, my turn to go there, my turn to talk there, my turn to listen there, my turn to wait there for my turn to go, to be as gone, it’s unending, it will be unending, gone where,where do you go from there, you must go somewhere else, wait somewhere else, for your turn to go again

I’m not the first, I won’t be the first, it will best me in the end, it has bested better than me, it will tell me what to do, in order to rise, move, act like a body endowed with despair, that’s how I reason, that’s how I hear myself reasoning, all lies, it’s not me they’re calling, not me they’re talking about, it’s not yet my turn, it’s someone else’s turn, that’s why I can’t stir, that’s why I don’t feel a body on me, I’m not suffering enough yet, it’s not yet my turn, not suffering enough to be able to stir, to have a body, complete with head, to be able to understand, to have eyes to light the way

From Thomas' Jesus:

When you make the two one, and you make the inside as the outside and the outside as the inside and the above as the below, and if male and female become a single unity which lacks 'masculine' and 'feminine' action, when you grow eyes where eyes should be and hands where hands should be and feet where feet should stand and the true image in its proper place, then shall you enter heaven.

Tom's Jesus makes a particularly Gnostic habit of both insisting that the hidden will be revealed and demonstrating the impossibility of attaining a state where the hidden ever can be revealed. Contrary to C.S. Lewis, we will never have faces with which to gaze upon the lost divine and the mysteries that shaped us, and crucially, as Christ puts it, we would not be able to bear the sight of ourselves if we did.

We will never become the thing that's riding on our backs.

Jesus again:

The disciples ask Jesus, 'Tell us how our end shall be.' Jesus says, 'Have you found the beginning yet, you who ask after the end? For at the place where the beginning is, there shall be the end.'

The Unnameable:

I’ll recognise it, in the end I’ll recognise it, the story of the silence that he never left, that I should never have left, that I may never find again, that I may find again, then it will be he, it will be I, it will be the place, the silence, the end, the beginning, the beginning again, how can I say it, that’s all words, they’re all I have, and not many of them, the words fail, the voice fails, so be it

The final passage of The Unnameable, which often is hilariously shorn and misinterpreted as an inspirational quote about how if you don't succeed, try again:

all words, there’s nothing else, you must go on, that’s all I know, they’re going to stop, I know that well, I can feel it, they’re going to abandon me, it will be the silence, for a moment, a good few moments, or it will be mine, the lasting one, that didn’t last, that still lasts, it will be I, you must go on, I can't go on, you must go on. I’ll go on, you must say words, as long as there are any, until they find me, until they say me, strange pain, strange sin, you must go on, perhaps it’s done already, perhaps they have said me already, perhaps they have carried me to the threshold of my story, before the door that opens on my story, that would surprise me, if it opens, it will be I, it will be the silence, where I am, I don’t know. I’ll never know, in the silence you don’t know, you must go on, I can’t go on. I’ll go on. †

We bear this thing that's riding on our backs. We'll never get to where we're going, and the thing will never be born. If it was born, it'd be too terrible for us to bear. There's nothing riding on our backs.

It will never speak us into being.

We keep on calling out into the silence, we keep trying to explain or understand the thing that's riding on our backs, searching for a way to birth it before we die. Our words about the thing are crucial, and they're meaningless, and they're all we have, and they're nothing at all. We cannot name it and we cannot express it, but we cannot stop trying, and we will keep turning back to our words about the thing, obsessing over them, tearing them to pieces, putting them back together.

I'm fumbling at something I can't think or say, but fumbling is all we're capable of. There could be beauty and meaning and comfort in the fumbling, but it's also vain, and foolish, and pointless, and we're lying to ourselves about the beauty and the meaning and the comfort, and we're indulging ourselves pointlessly by going on and on about the pointlessness of it. Nothing can know what's going on. We will never get close enough to understand without being destroyed.

Thomas' Jesus again, warning those who seek to reveal what's hidden:

He who is near me is near the fire.

Riddley Walker, reflecting on the Punch puppet's inexplicable desire to cook and eat his own child:

Whyis Punch crookit? Why wil he al ways kill the baby if he can? Parbly I wont ever know its jus on me to think on it.

If you got to the end of this, congratulations: but the above is honestly the most appropriate patchwork of what I believe, what propels me, what I feel.

As for what comes after life, I think it's fairly straightforwardly a nothingness we are tragically incapable of fully knowing or accepting - it's Beckett's unimaginable and unattainable silence, a silence that his characters' voices keep on shattering even as they cry out for it.

-Jon‡

*I can't remember if Kafka makes prominent reference to Czech puppets in his work, which is interesting in its own right given the thematic relevance (the protagonist in The Hunger Artist is perhaps a kind of self-directing puppet show?).

However, Gustav Meyrink - who some unsourced Google quotes suggest was pals with Czech puppeteer Richard Teschner - did write a strange little story, The Man On The Bottle, about an audience watching a 'marionette show' who are too wrapped up in performances and masks to interpret the reality that they're actually watching a human being suffocate to death.

**Thomas Ligotti: "Something had happened. They did not know what it was, but they did know it as that which should not be.

Something would have to be done if they were to live with that which should not be.

This would not (be enough); it would only be the best they could do."

***Beckett's Malone Dies actually kicks off with a related sentiment:" I am in my mother’s room. It’s I who live there now. I don’t know how I got there...In any case I have her room. I sleep in her bed. I piss and shit in her pot. I have taken her place. I must resemble her more and more."

† I don't necessarily align myself in humour with Ligotti on a lot of this stuff but I imagine he would recognise both Beckett's writing and Kafka's frustrations re explaining the causes of his hatred for his father as sublimation: finding artistic and philosophical ways of sketching the inexpressible horror and uncertainty of our existence in order to reckon with it at a remove without destroying ourselves. A higher form of self-deception, but self-deception nevertheless.

‡Muna's more of an anarcho-nihilist, I think.

[wyrmswears]

"Generator"; 1569 words.

The Administrator has something to show Agent Walker.

...

Sure, he knew it wasn’t the first time he had been called to a one-on-one meeting with The Administrator, but it may as well have been. It wasn’t like he remembered any of their previous interactions; he was going in blind all the same.

When his fax machine first spat out the offending paper, he believed it had been sent to the wrong agent. But there was his name at the top, ‘Agent Walker’. There was the possibility that someone else shared his surname, but as far as he was aware he was the only agent without a first name.

The listed meeting room wasn’t her office, nor was it one of the Administration’s more conventional meeting rooms, complete with tables 30 people long but only one person wide and more fake potted plants than you could ever imagine. No, today he had been called down to the lowest floor of the Administration: the server room. The part of his brain that understood technology bristled at that; it would be much more effective to place the server room on a higher floor. Nonetheless, he wouldn’t say anything about that to The Administrator when he faced her - he would stick to his department, as all good employees did. The networks and communications department could handle that one.

The elevator down required two separate keycards: one was his standard agent ID, and the other digitally recognised him as a department manager. The former granted him permission to move between floors, yes, but only the latter allowed him access to the basement.

The ride down took 2 minutes and 43 seconds. He counted. No one else entered the elevator the entire journey.

When the elevator reached the basement and the doors slid open, The Administrator was standing on the other side of them. He hoped he would forget this meeting like the others, if just so he could become ignorant to the way he jumped at her sudden appearance.

“Agent Walker.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Administrator, ma’am.”

She smiled. This did nothing to soothe his racing heart. “Come, let’s talk.” She beckoned and he followed her into the dark room.

It was large, but so were most rooms in the Administration. The realm reassignment department was tiny relative to the office rooms that the majority of their employees were stationed in. This room was about half the size of block 8E sub-block 185A A3/11√5. He could see three of the walls, dark stretches of concrete, sealing them in. The fourth that should’ve sat opposite to the elevator was obscured by rows upon rows upon rows of computer servers. A blue glow emanated from them and he grimaced at the thought of the voltage it would take to create a light that strong.

As he struggled to keep pace, The Administrator barely spared him a glance. “This may seem beyond your department, but trust me, your role will become clear soon.” She forewarned. She would never have him leave his department, he knew. That was the first rule of the Administration: Stay in your place. “What do you know of Lord Ras of the Wyldness?”

Lord Ras. He had heard that name. Some of the employees that hailed from Imperium had mentioned it in conversations coated with nothing short of hatred. The ‘outlander’ who had gained a position of such power in their otherwise closed society. That sort of talk only ever continued for a couple days before their new job turned their interest towards paperwork and mild office drama.

“Isn’t he the one trying to awaken ancient evils without a permit?”

The Administrator shot him a look, slow and venomous. “He is”, she nodded, “but that’s not important to us right now.” She walked towards him. He averted his gaze to the floor with stiffened shoulders but found that she only continued past him, down the alley of servers. She didn’t need to beckon him this time, he knew what he was meant to do. He followed.

There was little light between the pillars of computers. They were only between two rows of the many, but what he could see was endless. The towers sparked a theory in his mind about why she was mentioning the rogue lord. “We use a lot of power.” He started, testing the waters. The Administrator stopped walking and turned to face him, her silence commanding him to finish his speculation. “Lord Ras allied with Imperium by promising them power; do we need to ally with him too? To have enough power?”

The Administrator smiled and shook her head. Count two for smiles, and a contradiction - she must have expected him to guess wrong. “You’re right that we do plan to ally with him, but it is not out of need for power. We have all the power we could need.” She turned again and continued to weave her way through the computerised nest which was now composed of more than just server towers. Thick cables ran both overhead and underfoot, LEDs glowed from no visible circuitry, and the drone of electric humming and cooling fans only ever got louder the further they went.

Finally, they breached the sea of servers.

Now that he could see the wall they had been trekking towards all this time, he realised that it wasn’t made out of concrete the same as the other three walls. No, this one was glass. Despite this, nothing was visible from the other side. There was no depth at all, only pure light glowing an almost-white with its brightness (though when Walker inspected the way it lit up its surroundings, he realised it to be tinted pale blue).

In front of the glass wall, the cables reached their largest size before slipping underneath panels in the floor. The servers did not get within 10 metres of the wall. Instead, they stood guard in their rows, watching the tiny humans approach the divine light.

The Administrator hummed, snapping Walker’s attention back to her. She gestured towards the glass. “This is our power source. You can look, if you would like.”

He didn’t know if that was a good idea. Just looking at the glass from this distance was already beginning to hurt his eyes. Nonetheless, unsure if it was because The Administrator had told him to or because he chose to, he stepped forwards.

As he approached, he could feel the electricity in the air. It combed through his hair and bounced around a pit in his chest, dangerously close to the one that ached whenever he thought about the family he might’ve once had, before he forgot everything. He didn’t realise he was shaking with a strange sense of excitement until he was close enough to touch the glass and found himself unable to hold his hand still. He almost did touch the glass, but held back just before his fingers made contact. He still couldn’t see anything on the other side. Pale blue swallowed his vision.

He looked over his shoulder to The Administrator. She raised an eyebrow and jerked her head towards the glass again. He turned back. A bright light stared back at him.

He didn’t scream. This was unusual - Walker knew he was cowardly and anxious and that in any other scenario he would’ve jumped or fallen back or swung a punch - but something was different this time.

If anything, he stood closer than he did originally, watching the sparking lights with complete fascination. His breath fogged the glass.

“What is it?” He asked after what could’ve been anything between a second and a day, even though he couldn’t hear what he was saying over the pounding of his own heart.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” The Administrator was at his side now. When had she moved? “It’s lightning.”

Like realising one’s hunger upon taking a bite of food, the word sparked an ache in the back of his head. “Lightning…” He knew what that was, of course, as well as where it came from. They must have captured it live from a storm. He had never seen a storm before, but he had heard anecdotes of them from newly recruited employees and field agents alike. He was jealous. Did all lightning look like this? Freckles and curls?

She watched as he pressed a hand to the glass. The lightning responded in kind, pressing the palm of its hand opposite to his. “We could let it go of course, but it would run away. Far from here.”

Far from here… No. They couldn’t let it free. Now that he had seen it, felt it, he knew he couldn’t bear to part with it. They had to keep it contained. He told The Administrator such.

She nodded and smiled again. “I knew you’d understand.”

He dropped his gaze to study the hand that would’ve held his if it could.

It was almost the same pale blue that shone through the rest of the glass, but somehow brighter. The similarity in colours made it hard to tell the form of the figure apart from its glow, but blue and yellow markings fanned out across its form like the branches of a pine tree. Lichtenberg figures, his mind supplied.

He looked up at its face, admiring its curls and running a hand through his own. He wondered if he’d at all resemble the figure before him if he looked in a mirror.

[somelegobird]

I've been having fun imagining the worst plot twist that could happen in Dr s3 or beyond, here's my favourite so far (DR s2p2 spoilers):

Evil Jay isn't actually Jay, he's Jay's doppelgänger from another realm (probably the Wyldness or something, I dunno). He is a guy who lost his memory though, and he was named Agent Walker because the Administration needed to assign him a code name, and they found him walking around, so y'know,,, He actually wasn't called Jay until Ras saw him and mistook him for Jay.

His elemental power is actually ✨electricity✨, not lightning, and was given to him during the merge (like Geo's power iirc). If heat and fire can coexist, then so can lightning and electricity. His elemental power was labelled as lightning in the Tournament because everyone thinks this dude is Jay.

His real name is Jace Waker, he has very very vague memories, he can remember the rhythm of his name, so when he gets assigned the last name "Walker" by the Administration and then the first name "Jay" by Ras, he just goes "yeah that's my name, sounds right" and accepts it.

Real Jay is off somewhere, surviving in the departed realm or something. He's gonna randomly bump into the ninja when they end up strolling into the Departed Realm by accident on a mission. The ninja are gonna be trying to remind him of stuff and convince him to not be evil and he's just "?? What are you on about? I was never evil" and they're all gonna be incredibly confused

[liesmyth]

I have been in a terrible reading slump and am looking for books to pull me out. Do you have any recommendations?

FRANCES HARDINGE. cool heroines, middle grade level that adults will love, cool fantasy premises, perfect balance of quality & light read. my faves are deeplight + cuckoo song.

If you don't like fantasy then my beloved herotic stories for punjabi widows by Balli Kaur Jaswal. everyone should read it I'm not kidding I love it to bits.

more ideas:

beach reads!! these are all fun engaging types of books:

fantasy: a deadly education by naomi novik

thriller: the it girl by ruth ware

thriller but comedy: Finlay Donovan Is Killing It by Elle Cosimano

horror: My Best Friend's Exorcism by Grady Hendrix. the coldest girl in cooldown by Holly Black

litfic: Such a Fun Age by Kiley Reid

romance (F/F): Hotshot byClare Lydon

romance (het): Last Tang Standing by Lauren Ho (contemporary). Bringing Down the Duke by Evie Dunmore (historical). Check & Mate by Ali Hazelwood (YA)

prose so good you want to eat it. (words are pretty but the book is a bit heavier to stomach! depends on your tastes)

matrix by lauren groff. into the woods by tana french. my dark vanessa by kate elizabeth russell. The Cherry Robbers by Sarai Walker.

engaging nonfiction

humble pi by matt parker. the code book by simon sigh. if you wanna go heavier, I really loved Black AF History by Michael Harriot

shorter stuff

short stories! I've loved everything I've read that was short by Tamsyn Muir, but the collection Heiresses of Rust (2016) she's featured in also has an incredible mix of short stories by various authors. the theme is lesbian fiction. another sff author I love for short stories is James Tiptree

tiny books! chaptered but on the shorter side. Wylding Hall by Elizabeth Hand. Houston, Houston, Do You Read? by James Tiptree Jr. One Day All This Will Be Yours by Adrian Tchaikovsky. Princess Floralinda and the Forty-Flight Tower by Tamsyn Muir. The Murders of Molly Southbourne by Tade Thompson

[paragox]

Ninjago AU - The Writings on The Wall

|| Incorrect Quotes || Character Profiles || Elements ||

Still working on it so y'all get my notes :3

Premise and everything under the cut.

Feel free to ask any questions about it.

Premise.

The Merge happened at least 100 years ago, back when Garmadon and Wu were still relatively young.

Garmadon left the monastery after some difficult time with his father, only writing every now and then to let everyone know he was still alive. Wu stayed at the monastery.

Garmadon is on a quest to find the Dragon Cores, Wu too tho he's still mainly stationed at the Monastery, they don't know what the other is doing. Here is where the merge happens.

Wu gets visions and scrolls about something similar happening 100 yrs later so he's on the move to find them again, he's also training a Ninja team to protect the Crossroads.

Garmadon has been traveling around still in search of the dragon cores, but on the trip he ends up adopting a bunch of kids he decides to raise (he also has Lloyd) so he moves to the Crossroad too.

And chaos ensues.

The Groups and Ages

Garmadon Kids aka Pandemonium Kids

Skylor Chen - 16yrs old

Kai Jiang Smith - 15yrs old

Morro Wojira - 14yrs old

Nya Jian Smith 13yrs old

Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon - 9yrs old

Wyldfyre Wyrven - 5 yrs old

Heatwave? - MIA

+1 - Harumi Jade- 10yrs old

Wu's Kids aka The Ninja

Zane Julien - 17yrs old?

Cole Hence-Brookstone - 17yrs old

Jay Walker - 16 yrs old

Pixal Borg - 16yrs old

Arin Spinjitzu - 6yrs old

Sora Nekomata - 7yrs old

Riyu - Baby dragon

Both Garmadon and Wu are over 150 yrs old.

Misako is around 60-65

World/Realms notes

Ninjago - Humans mainly

Wyldness/Chima - Beast-like/Weres body structure

Imperium - Cyberpunk

Departed - Ghosts keep the form of what they killed them (Stabbed will have the stab wound in the open for, decpaitated will have a floating head, etc)

Onis and Dragons - Dragons are western-like looking [Dragons, Wyverns, Drakes, Wyrms, etc], Onis (same as canon) hunters are dieselpunk based.

Cloud kingdom - Angel-like imagery

Never realm - Formlings behave like shapeshifters [Can shapeshit onto their animal fully or partially, also have a "beast" form"]

Underworld - Skeletons and "hell-like" image

Djinjago - Same as canon?… maybe

Realm of Madness - Think of it like evil Alice in wonderland [So like, American McGee's Alice or IB]

Realm of Lee - TBD, maybe Candy-based, no info has been given about this one

Realm of Mysteryum - TBD

Species notes

Serpentine are more like Lamias/Medusa/Naga looking

Geckle - Same as canon

Munce - Same as canon

Merlopian - Similar to canon, some folks look more like mermaids (Also take inspiration from Zoras/Zelda)

Sky Folk- Similar to canon, (some inspiration from Rito/Wind Waker-Zelda)

Cragling - Same as canon (Golems)

Djinn - Same as canon? TBD

Formling - Shapeshifter similar to canon (Human form, Anthro & Feral forms, Beast/Were form)

Oni -

Keeper -

Ghoul - Ghouls are curses placed onto people, they make them cannibalistic and have a constant year for blood and meat of their same species.

Reaper - Reapers are other type of curses, reapers can become intangible for a period of type, they're like ghosts, they're always cold to the touch and an uneasy aura always surround them, they're passively sucking the life energy of those around them.

Vampire -

Crystallized -

Characters notes

Jay & Skylor are "Half Serpentine" through magical transformation [Skylor tattoing, Jay through a bite]

Morro is half-ghoul

Cole is half-Reaper

Zane & Pixal are androids (Similar to canon)

Lloyd, Kai & Nya are part dragon

Kai & Nya are Part dragon [Ninjagian], part Merlopian, Part Phoenix, Part Keeper [Oni] and Part Human

Lloyd is 1/4 Oni 1/4 dragon and 1/2 human

Wyldfyre is half-dragon [Wyldness]

Arin is full human

Harumi is half-Crystallized

Sora is human w cyberware

Euphrasia is angel-like (Cloud kingdom resident)

Geo is half munce and half geckle like canon

Garmadon- 1/2 Oni and 1/2 Dragon- More Oni-Like looking (Looks like a Gargoyle)

Wu- 1/2 Oni and 1/2 Dragon - More Dragon Looking (Humanoid Anthro style)

Morro & Euphrasia are both wind elementals [Morro has an easy control over Sea and Land breezes, Euphrasia has a better control of Mountains breezes]

Extra Notes

Dragon hunters have a noticeable hold on the Black Market, Imperium is one of their most regular clients (Beatrix and Ras specifically)

Imperium is hunting both dragons and elementals.

The Crossroads is situated around Ninjago city, with Ninjago city serving as the "heart" of the whole place, you could explore the whole crossroads if you just drive in circles. (Will take you some time tho)

[leastdatablebracket]

Here's the bracket for round 1! I intend to start posting matches tomorrow.

Group 1 (Matches 1-16)

Sam Wayne (Scarlet Hollow) VS Penny (Stardew Valley)

Joy Johnson-Johjima (Monster Prom) VS Vladamir (Moonlight Lovers)

P.S. Elle (Romancelvania) VS Saint Germain (Code: Realize)

Bram Galeborn (Tales of the Wild) VS Jumin Han (Mystic Messenger)

Edgar Morton (To Love & Protect) VS Zen (Mystic Messenger)

Nowi (Fire Emblem Awakening) VS Elise (Fire Emblem Fates)

Maison Talo (House Hunted) VS Sam (Stardew Valley)

Akihiko Sanada (Persona 3 Portable) VS Sam Dalton (Choices - The Nanny Affair)

Ota Kisaki (Kissed by the Baddest Bidder) VS Casavir (Neverwinter Nights 2)

Anna (Fire Emblem Engage) VS Yang (Piofiore Fated Memories)

Isabela (Dragon Age 2) VS Shuu Iwamine (Hatoful Boyfriend)

Liam de Lioncourt (Monster Prom) VS Sunder (Boyfriend Dungeon)

Cassandra Pentaghast (Dragon Age Inquisition) VS Curie (Fallout 4)

Cliff (Story of Seasons: Friends of Mineral Town) VS Sylvain Jose Gautier (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)

Hanatsubaki Gorō (Tokimeki Memorial Girl’s First Love) VS Leliana (Dragon Age Origins)

Barbatos (Obey Me) VS Solas (Dragon Age Inquisition)

Group 2 (Matches 17-32)

Nightowl (Blooming Panic: Full Bloom Edition) VS Isako Toriumi (Persona 3)

Adam/Ava du Mortain (Wayhaven Chronicles) VS Drake Walker (Choices - The Royal Romance)

Taro Majima (Tokimeki Memorial Girl’s Side 2nd Season) VS Vace (I Was a Teenage Exocolonist)

Yoosung Kim (Mystic Messenger) VS Siren Head (Siren Head Dating Sim)

Rick (Story of Seasons: Friends of Mineral Town) VS V (Mystic Messenger)

Ken Amada (Persona 3 Portable) VS Lorenz Hellman Gloucester (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)

Bigfoot (Dialtown) VS Damien Ramsey (Magical Diary)

Merrill (Dragon Age 2) VS Landon (High School Dreams Best Friends Forever)

Vyn Richter (Tears of Themis) VS Sumire Yoshizawa (Persona 5 Royal)

Sebastian (Stardew Valley) VS Triss Merigold (Witcher 3)

Rock (Story of Seasons: A Wonderful Life) VS Morrigan (Dragon Age Origins)

Gray (Story of Seasons: Friends of Mineral Town) VS Calculester Hewlett-Packard (Monster Prom)

Harry Choi (The Ssum) VS Ichiko Ohya (Persona 5)

Sadayo Kawakami (Persona 5) VS Randy Jade (Dialtown)

Kevan (Long Live the Queen) VS Camellia (Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous)

Ace (Heart no Kuni no Alice) VS Rhea (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)

Group 3 (Matches 33-48)

Ilessa (Romancelvania) VS Dolce (Rune Factory 4)

Sothis (Fire Emblem: Three Houses) VS Laito Sakamaki (Diabolik Lovers)

Cameron Conner (Wylde Flowers) VS Sera (Dragon Age Inquisition)

Elliott (Stardew Valley) VS Shane (Stardew Valley)

Mikah Hudson (Save Me, Sherlock) VS Harvey (Stardew Valley)

Towa Wakasa (Sweet Fuse: At Your Side) VS Shiloh Fields (XOXO Droplets)

Arsene Lupin (Code: Realize) VS Blackwall (Dragon Age Inquisition)

Vere (Touchstarved) VS Shiki (Togainu no Chi)

Sebastian Vael (Dragon Age 2) VS Toma (Amnesia: Memories)

Sakura (Fire Emblem Fates) VS Ethan Ramsey (Choices - Open Heart)

Warren (Life is Strange) VS Ryoma (Fire Emblem Fates)

Katherine (Catherine) VS Jonah (Boyfriend Dungeon)

Anders (Dragon Age 2) VS Dorian Grey (OZMAFIA!!)

Skye (Harvest Moon DS Cute) VS Tammy (I Was a Teenage Exocolonist)

Fenris (Dragon Age 2) VS Dys (I Was a Teenage Exocolonist)

Peter King (Your Boyfriend Game) VS Eisuke Ichinomiya (Kissed by the Baddest Bidder)

Group 4 (Matches 49-64)

Tharja (Fire Emblem Awakening) VS Jacob Taylor (Mass Effect 2)

Elanee (Neverwinter Nights 2) VS Megaricus (Kaichu - The Kaiju Dating Sim)

Joseph Christiansen (Dream Daddy) VS Naoto Shirogane (Persona 4)

Mr. Pages (Mask of the Rose) VS Soleil (Fire Emblem Fates)

Baxter Ward (Our Life: Beginnings & Always) VS Ryouta Kazama (Tokimeki Memorial Girl’s Side 4)

Colonel Sanders (I Love You, Colonel Sanders!) VS Kappa (Story of Seasons: Friends of Mineral Town)

Andy (Romance Club) VS Micah Yujin (Error143)

Anomen Delryn (Baldur’s Gate 2) VS Koolie Sterling (Tentador Leches)

Canus Espada (Cafe Enchante) VS Nah (Fire Emblem Awakening)

Doctor (Story of Seasons: Friends of Mineral Town) VS Lucy (Your Boyfriend Game)

Amber (Rune Factory 4) VS Marco (Lovelink)

Alfani (OZMAFIA!!) VS Makoto Niijima (Persona 5)

Haley (Stardew Valley) VS Azura (Fire Emblem Fates)

Zevran Arainai (Dragon Age Origins) VS Kai (Story of Seasons: Friends of Mineral Town)

Yuri (Doki Doki Literature Club) VS The Red Prince (Divinity: Original Sin 2)

Lucio Morgasson (The Arcana) VS Cullen Rutherford (Dragon Age Inquisition)

[i-love-jay-walker]

Agent Walker Piece

The tapping of the well-used keyboard echoed around in Jay’s head, bouncing around in what felt like a completely empty space. The new hire typed something up in the document, but Jay couldn’t be bothered to really check it through. The kid probably knew what he was doing. And if not, he would just make it Prentis’ problem. This was a complete waste of his far too precious time. “Like that, sir?” The young worker queried as he looked up from his dusty computer, fingers still lingering on the keys. His brown eyes were far too bright and joyful for someone in the Administration, filling his superior with almost a feeling of unease. Some people are just too joyous in this world. “Huh?” Jay blinked before his eyes focused back on the screen in front of them, boredom immediately washing over him as his eyes glazed over again. It was probably right. “Oh, uh, yeah. Like that.” “Okay. So then I just change that to Stockroom A? Or is it that thing where it has to go to the Archive System?” “Archive System, Collin. It’s not in Overflow, so it’s an Archive.” The brunette let out a sigh as he pinched his nose, eyes squeezing closed as the clacking of the keyboard began again. So. Maybe it wasn’t right. Was there really not a single competent worker in his department? “So… That would be Personal Belongings, right?” Collin mumbled as he typed away, not waiting for his superior's response, who frankly, wasn’t really listening either way. “And we sent them to the Wyldness. So that would be-” The blonde peered onto a piece of paper, filled with scribbles and notes of different codes and notes. “Uh, AS-F6-1648-5I, sir?” “Is everything a question with you?” Jay mumbled as he glanced over the document, his eyes quickly gliding over the words. Yup, those were definitely words. Maybe the right ones too. “Yes, that’s correct. Are we done?” “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” “You better be, I have more important ga-, uh, work to do.” The brunette coughed awkwardly before he hurried off, narrowly avoiding multiple questions thrown his way by other incompetent workers. Ignoring any onlookers, Jay began to grumble mockingly to himself as he stomped his way to his office, weariness weighing heavily on his shoulders. “Why do I have to do everything around here. Just because I’m the damn boss. Sir, do this. Sir, do that. Do it yourself! Can’t you see I’m busy!” The former ninja angrily slammed the door shut behind him, ignoring the way his “Employee Of The Year” trophies wobbled on the shelf, threatening to fall to the already messy floor. With a groan he threw himself into his black office chair, cursing to himself as it began to swirl, before he firmly gripped his cluttered desk and pulled him and the chair closer. A sigh escaped his tightly pulled lips as he allowed himself to sink into the chair, running a hand over his irate expression, beginning to relax his narrowed brow and unclench his teeth. For a short while, Jay just sat there in complete silence, head resting against his palm as he attempted to calm himself down. Some days the workers just seemed extra incompetent and today was one of those days. He needed a break. Maybe a vacation. But the Administration didn’t allow either. So there he was, stuck in just about the worst job in all of the merged realms. When he finally stretched out his weary arm, reaching for his trusty controller, his fingers gracing the cheap, grey plastic and- DING. The damned intercom. “AGENT JAY WALKER, YOU ARE BEING SUMMONED TO BOARDROOM 38B POST HASTE. MAKE YOUR WAY THERE IMMEDIATELY.”. Jay didn’t even know his controller could shatter into that many pieces when thrown against a wall.

[songoftrillium]

Ghost Council (J.F. Sambrano Edition)

The following is the fourth draft copy of Ghost Council as written by J.F. Sambrano was submitted to Paradox. This is reposted from J.F. Sambrano's patreon with their permission:

Ghost Council

By J.F. Sambrano

Who are the Ghost Council?

The first-born of the Dawning Tribes, the Ghost Council, or Elder Brother as they are known amongst themselves, always steps into the unknown first, braving its dangers for the protection of their siblings. The Ghost Council seeks to know, first and foremost, so that they can then teach those who come after what is prudent and what is treacherous. The Ghost Council seeks knowledge in dark places, and wisdom from the dark and alien. The Ghost Council knows that not all of their siblings are ready for this perilous method of education, but they are, and someone always has to walk into the darkness first. Let it be us, they say. Let us keep our cousins unblemished. (See the rest below the cut)

Despite this commonality in approach, there are many disparate perspectives within the Ghost Council.  The most common philosophy is that which they are most famous for--the Ghost Council studies the enemy in order to best understand it, because in understanding lies the key to victory.  No Tribe engages in the study of Grandmother Serpent with the conviction and determination that the Ghost Council does.  Yet there are others who say that the answers lie within the Garou people themselves--and the Garou are children of the Wyld.  These members of the Ghost Council instead throw themselves into the frenetic, chaotic, and even explosive techniques of the Wyld--seeking understanding through “crazy wisdom” and unpredictability.  These Wyld Children are often seen as dangerous and incomprehensible to other members of the Tribe.  Likewise, there are those who insist that the secrets to understanding the cosmos lie within the madness of Grandfather Spider, who has played his great trick on Grandmother Serpent.  These Web Walkers cling to the Scars and embrace the power and knowledge of Grandfather Spider’s brood, and although their expertise and power is undeniable, even their own Tribal members consider them heretical Urrah.

Gaia’s Howl

When Great Mother cried out, the power of her pain dislodged many spirits--and many powerful Banes which the Banetenders of the Ghost Council held trapped for centuries.  This is one of the greatest fears that the Ghost Council has, and in these last days, they have come to pass.  No Tribe has the knowledge or wherewithal needed to hunt down and bind these spirits once more.  The Ghost Council has made it their priority to do this work--no matter the cost.

The Ghost Council believes that the secret knowledge required to address Great Mother’s pain lies beyond the Gauntlet.  Some say that it is the beginning of the Seventh Sign, but the Ghost Council has always questioned the validity of that prophecy.  The severing of the Umbra and the Tellurian has only incited more and more of them to devote themselves to Umbral exploration in order to find the source of Great Mother’s pain.

The Ghost Council has never been satisfied only courting the power of the spirit world--even though they are unquestionably masters of it--but with the source of this power increasingly difficult to access, many of them are turning to cultural and traditional sources of power, enriching their acumen through their communities.  Their embrace of belief systems and folk magic which stray from the animistic outlook of the Garou as a whole is yet another reason that the rest of the Tribes look at them askance, not just with concern, but with fear.

The Malady

Unlike their more temperamental brother, the Ghost Council learned long ago to seek outside of themselves for kinship and family.  This is not to say that they are not concerned with their growing sterility, but they have no qualms with looking further and in darker places for Lost Cubs to bring within their fold.  They are still quite discerning, however, and choose to limit their searches to the cultures and communities which they consider their own--oppressed and marginalized communities which have suffered from the erasures and genocides brought forth by global colonial attitudes..  They seek those who know how to walk between, to understand and respect both worlds, a knowledge necessary for the quest given to them by their Patron, the River Serpent.

The Ghost Council concerns themselves more with the afflictions being suffered by other living things.  It was the Ghost Council who first recognized the sickness as one of the spirit--and who else?  But that is only an answer that offers more questions.

Kinfolk

The Ghost Council has usually held their Kinfolk in high respect, but have also been known to leave them behind in pursuit of secrets and dangers where they cannot go.  The Malady has forced them to respond to this oversight in one of two ways.   There are many among the Ghost Council who have chosen to focus on building up their communities, made up of disempowered folk such as Native Americans, Black folk, and other Indigenous and impoverished communities across the world, who are always on the front lines when the impacts of the Urge Wyrm Kimoti and Great Mother’s pain are concerned.  They act as guides and cultural leaders, even to the point of creating zealous, cult-like followings.  Others members of the Ghost Council have decided that in these last days it is time to trust and empower their Kinfolk--always the most likely to show the ability to manipulate the world through medicine and sorcery alike--to walk with them on their dangerous path, and choose to take them along on their journeys into the dark, even if they were not built to survive the hidden horrors within.

River Serpent

At home in the darkest depths and hidden fathoms, River Serpent goads and guides its children along perilous paths and dangerous journeys.  River Serpent does not act so much as a representative or a guardian as other Tribal Patrons do, but rather a negotiator of forbidden wisdom and unique mysteries.  The Serpent-That-Swims-Beneath eschews warm supervision for the stark and cold protocol of spiritual transactions.  The Serpent is a dealmaker, a soultaker, and counts every bead owed.

Harmony

Harmony is a matter of balancing the spirit. Members of the Ghost Council hunt down and annihilate spirits that are out of control, or they scour the dark places for secrets of the mystical that are as of yet unknown, or they influence the spirit courts in a way that will change the world for the better.  They are always at council with the ghosts, be they the courts, their ancestors, or even the malevolent undead.  Whatever method or technique an individual of the Ghost Council uses, it is always about the balancing of spirit.  Even the Banetenders, warped with the corruption of Grandmother Serpent, know the importance of this.

Ghreena 

The Ghreena of the Ghost Council is the The Lure of the Wyrm.

It is a common Ghost Council philosophy to study the secrets of the Wyrm, both to use it against Grandmother Serpent’s agents, and also to find what corrupted things might be brought back into balance--but sometimes those secrets are too tempting to use.

These Garou will willingly ally themselves with Banes whom (they believe) they can control.  They will use Gifts taught to them by Wyrm spirits and use corrupted Fetishes, claiming that they give them the power necessary to fight for Great Mother.

The Ghost Council are not unknown to invoke the most powerful spirits to aid them in their duties, but when lost to Ghreena they will carelessly invoke spirits that could take control of them or others, essentially fraternizing with dangerous and malignant spirits, and giving themselves over as hosts.  Even worse, when other Tribes encounter these horrifying, twisted versions of a Ghost Councilor, it only confirms their worst fears about them.

Archetypes: Sorcerers, spiritual envoys, spirit-hunters, keepers of stories and songs.

[djhinnwe]

Ineffable Interns (?)

New Headcanon for Muriel and Disposable Demon Eric after they become friends via bonding over being the lowest tier demon/angel. (Ineffable Grunts? Ineffable Minions? Ineffable Interns?)

Muriel ends up finding music and falling in love with the likes of Buffy St. Marie, Tanya Tagaq, and The Halluci Nation (as well as Brazilian protest music along the same veins). She is somewhat radicalized by them against the Church and is moving towards having more faith in herself and the Universe than in God and Heaven. Crowley finds himself bemused, but does put in effort to keep her from falling similar to Aziraphale (though she'd be fine on her own). [Little Wheel Spin and Spin] [Tongues] [Colonizer Halluci Nation Remix]

Disposable Demon Eric on the other hand ends up really liking stuff that's a little more fluffy and varied. Think Joker Out, Michael Bublé, Walker and Wylde, etc. He's taking Sanctuary in the bookshop because he's kind of sick of being disposable to people. He, like Crowley, continues to do the right thing for the right reason and goes along with Hell as far as he can (which is less than Crowley could at the same point in Crowley's arc). Eric continues to be brave and ask questions, which Crowley hasn't seen from any other demon and he's kind of impressed tbh. [Carpe Diem - English] [Feeling Good] [Life of the Cursed Intro / Outro]

They still dress in their respective side's colours, with Muriel being modest and liking pale colours (pastels are her fave, especially pastel pink) and Eric continuing along with his black/green goth motif. They like to do a book club once a month. Neither fall into the pitfalls of Crowley/Aziraphale in the way they fall for one another (ie. they figure out that they need to learn how to communicate effectively rather than speaking in nuance), nor do they fall in love in a selfish way like Gabriel/Beelzebub. Their love is the most platonic out of the angel/demon pairings and once they figure out that they won't die from touching one another, they are very physically affectionate with one another. Eric is not jealous if Muriel goes out on a date, though he does pout sometimes because he enjoys her company.

On a separate note, Hastur meeting a human and threatening them only to have the human be like "Oh, who are you? Christopher Columbus? You going to cut off my hands? Chop off my genitals and eat them for lunch? Going to skin my children alive, season them, and have some long pork jerky after fucking their corpses? No? Then get outta here with your nonsense. Anything you're threatening is a faster and less painful way to die than the death my own people offer." And that is how Hastur learns that humans are scarier and more depraved than he could ever hope to be.

[gearbox-doll]

Kuroshitsuji music taste headcanons!

Sebastian:

He strikes me as a carpetgarden listener and idk why

Lemon Demon

Creature Feature

D4vd

Will Wood

MCR

Walker and Wylde

Miracle Musical

Tally Hall

The Front Bottoms

V is for Villains

AURORA

Mitski

MARINA

Bo Burnham

Imagine Dragons

Anson Seabra

Ghost and Pals

Various vocaloid stuff

Ashley Serena

Daisy the Great

Rebzyyx

Bill Wurtz

Madds Buckley

No Love In The House Of Gold

Mother Mother

Fall Out Boy

Twenty One Pilots

Panic! At The Disco

Digital Daggers

Cosmo Sheldrake

AViVA

Jazmin Bean

Ciel:

Absolutely definitely listens to Alex G

Ghibli soundtracks

Phoebe Bridgers

Boy With Uke

Jack Stauber

Rare Americans

Egg

Olivia Rodrigo

Penelope Scott

Alec Benjamin

Eurielle

Three Days Grace

Skillet

Beth Crowley

Madds Buckley

The Oh Hellos

Dylan

The Books

tea

Roar

Sleeping At Last

Lincoln

Teen Suicide

Sub Urban

Au/Ra

Ricky Montgomery

Lots of piano music

The Rare Occasions

Owl City

Death Cab For Cutie

Surf Curse

Cody Fry

Caleb Hyles

The Score

Linkin Park

Fish in a Birdcage

Sufjan Stevens

Grandson

Flora Cash

Peter Gundry

Grell:

Melanie Martinez

Rusty Cage

Olivia Rodrigo

Mad Tsai

Dodie

Mitski

Mother Mother

Girl in Red

Crane Wives

Liana Flores

Against Me!

Sohodolls

Thousand Foot Crutch

Ashe

Conan Gray

The Crane Wives

CHINCHILLA

Alois:

Also an Alec Benjamin fan

Anna Blue

Dresden Dolls

P!nk

Halsey

Melanie Martinez

STARSET

Cavetown

Cults

Ricky Montgomery

Beth Crowley

beabadoobee

Kero Kero Bonito

Linkin Park

Sleeping at Last

The Crane Wives

Ruth B

Elizabeth:

Poppy

Adriana Figueroa

Girl in Red

Lindsey Stirling

Tele Novella

MARINA

Ricky Montgomery

Studio Killers

[420technoblazeit]

🎧

Oh I say Let's go down, down by the river It's another round, I might be the winner Got the snake eyes vice, soon thеy'll be rolling my way

i actually dotn know where i got this song mayb from my spotify discover weekly??? dsmp c!quackity animators wouldve eaten htis shit up back in the day

(Send me a 🎧 and I will put my music on shuffle and give you a song and my favourite lyric from it)