#wanted to invoke the vibe of his room w it

[highwatermark]

in his own world

[stormyoceans]

hiii monica!!! hope your day is going great :)) i have so many thoughts and feelings about lt and mohkday, i thought it'd be better to tell you than make a post of my own (i feel like most of these things have been said already, but just so i can get em off my mind) hope it's not too much :D - just so much of how the plot being what drives their relationship forward than tropes. we got the 'sharing a bed' and for what! in the end, it dint act as a catalyst in any way. rather, it's the casual intimacy, of day feeling what mohk is wearing, remembering his scent and being able to recognize his touch that invokes the flutters. all of which are basically essential considering day has to rely on his other senses to be able to single out mohk from a crowd. and yet. it's how the touches start to linger, as they gain new meanings. as they begin testing the waters. all while mohk has the most smitten smile (that day doesn't see). - it's their little spontaneous outings, and mohk only selecting the most perfect spots, so day can make the best out of them with his other senses, where his deteriorating vision only feels like a mild inconvenience. a flower market (touch and scent), a bridge with a prominent railing (day can feel his way along), rooftop (you can probably feel the breeze in your face, and it's totally empty, perfect to clear your mind after a rough night). - mohk planting jasmine in HIS house, and bringing the book home to practice??? how do you even come up with the second one? day's reactions when he found out!!! lmao he never stood a chance. (also giggling, kicking his feet, twirling hair day is asdajkdhjf, every expression is. i am.) - the goldfish slippers. if day's at home, he's cozy in them and it's simply the most endearing thing (day is, who am i kidding) - anywhere day has to be and he's pondering out loud, basically about to wave it off with some or the other excuse, 'it's a hassle anyway', mohk will catch on immediately. 'what are you waiting for? i'm here to take you' something about that is just. i know you want to do this and i'm not going to let petty things hold you back - their story develops from their natural day to day interactions. but it's so immersive. seeing mundane gestures gaining magnitude as feelings come to light. someone needs to write a 50k fic is all i'm saying. - the intimacy thing? god where do i even begin. to the bed scene with them covering each other's ears, i saw someone comment 'hope day's walls are thicker' and i haven't been fine since. and if you remember, one of your tags, i guess around the ep 3 dressing room mark, you said something like 'they're gonna touch one naked shoulder and have to go lie in the grass to calm down' and i know the vibe bw those two statements are wildly different but i haven't been able to get it out of my mind. you hit the nail, because it's exactly what's going to happen. it's just SO them. and that's SO. that extent of treasuring one another, the adoration, the pure raw emotion behind finding people in life, that you want to keep forever. it's the finding someone who sees you differently from everyone else, who never takes you for granted, who is elated to be in your company every single time. who above all, makes you feel safe. - everything about them is so. for lack of better words, natural. like second nature. like falling into place. you're so right. they invented romance. and i think no one could've captured it better than jimmysea, cause no one does gentle, comforting, homely like them. but that's just me. -Skate

HIII SKATE HIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!

first of all, im both very honored and very grateful that you wanted to share your last twilight thoughts with me!!!!! i do also want to encourage you to post about them if you're comfortable with it because i think fandoms need as many voices that can bring their own uniqueness to it as possible (what you want to say has already been said? maybe, but no one else can tell it quite in the same way that you would), but if you don't feel like it that's perfectly fine and im more than happy to (hopefully) provide a safe space for you and your thoughts!!!!!!

AND SPEAKING OF YOUR THOUGHTS!!!!!!!! i absolutely agree with you about tropes in last twilight not being used to further mork and day’s relationship. we still have a few of them (the 'there was only one bed' like you said, the 'trip and fall into you', the 'wipe the corner of your mouth') but they blend into the narrative almost seamlessly: they're not the focus of a scene and the flaw of the story doesn't stagnate around them by lingering on how the characters react to the trope. rather, they're used to either give the audience a subtle clue about what those characters are feeling or give more weight to a scene. the simple fact that mork and day are gonna sleep in the same bed carries in itself a certain kind of tension because the viewers recognize the trope and with that recognition come a whole series of expectations which p’aof then proceeds to subvert. if it were any other show, we would have probably had mork offering to sleep on the floor only for day to say it was okay for mork to sleep in the bed as long as he kept his hands for himself, and still they would have somehow ended up cuddling. but the trope is only a set up. p’aof refuses to use it as a plot device and lets his characters build intimacy in a different and much more genuine way: it’s mork giving day the thinner blanket so he won’t be hot and day recognizing mork’s scent on it, it’s mork having a bowl of water and jasmine flowers at the ready to help day relax, it’s day offering mork one of the flowers to smell and getting flustered at the feeling of mork’s breath brushing his fingers…….. it’s just so refreshing to have, on one hand, tropes being used as the framework rather than as the subject of a scene, and on the other, intimacy naturally developing from day to day interactions (again, like you said) without having to rely on said tropes

last twilight is also the proof that you don’t need an intricate plot to make a show interesting: even the most mundane acts like eating a meal or cleaning a fish tank or smelling a flower can gain magnitude and keep the viewers attached to the screen if the director knows what they’re trying to tell. and while i do want jimmysea to explore and be able to portray different genres, i do think this type of story is where they truly thrive. one of the major complaints i still see about vice versa is that the fantasy aspect of the story is put in the background to favor puen and talay making movies with friend credits instead, but to me that’s actually the strength of the show, because, to quote you, “no one does gentle, comforting, homely like them (jimmysea)”. AND GOD DO I AGREE WITH YOU ON THIS. the mundanity of everyday life is often seen as boring but it’s in that quietness that their chemistry shines, giving us one of the most natural and soft kind of intimacy i’ve ever seen portrayed in television. that’s why i would love to see an intimate scene between mork and day but i also pray that we never going to get it because YEAH I REMEMBER THOSE TAGS I WROTE AND I STAND BY THEM. the kind of intimacy jimmysea can bring to the table paired with the intensity that p’aof can put on screen and the depth of emotions that mork and day feel for each other (the vulnerability the understanding the acknowledgment the recognition the seeing the wanting the care the love)??????? I WOULD STRAIGHT UP DIE

ALSO I WOULD SPEND HOURS TALKING ABOUT HOW MORK FELL FIRST AND HARDER AND IS NOW SO LOST IN THE SAUCE HE’S BASICALLY DROWNING IN IT BUT I WOULD PROBABLY END UP GETTING INVOLUNTARY COMMITTED BY THE END OF IT SO IM JUST GONNA POST THIS

IT'S THE WAY MORK IS SO ATTENTIVE WHEN IT COMES TO DAY AND YEAH HIS LOVE LANGUAGE IN GENERAL IS ACTS OF SERVICE BUT BOY SURE TOOK IT TO A WHOLE OTHER LEVEL. from remembering what day said one time about people reading to him not feeling right and making sure to practice so it would feel more natural, to planting jasmine in his garden to make day feel at home if he ever visited, to finding ways to help day be more independent and places that day can still enjoy through his other senses, mork has already been saying i love you to day in everything he does for him AND I JUST. IM SIMPLY SO NORMAL ABOUT IT. TRULY

[squipedmew]

Behold, the updated team OMEN lineup! (click for better quality)

I ended up revamping the designs pretty much completely because, if I'm being honest, I feel like the originals were too boring, especially for the world of RWBY, not to mention my character design skills have improved a lot since I first designed them.

I'm super happy with how all of these have turned out, and I think they're finally starting to look like a semi-cohesive unit (as much as these dysfunctional dorks can anyways)

individual designs/design notes under the cut!

Oscar's obviously undergone the most change in this AU, so it makes sense for his outfit to be the most radically different. However, I still wanted you to be able to tell this was still Oscar, if that makes any sense. As such, I wanted to incorporate some elements of his other outfits into this one.

I leaned WAY more into the steampunky vibes with this design, and I ended up using the shade of red that's on his Atlas jacket.

Since he tends to associate green with Ozpin (he barely had any green on his v4 design, and only started wearing it after he started coming to terms with the merge) I wanted to incorporate the autumn colors of his v4 design in. Lots of dark reds and browns, though with a much more muted color palate than before.

He's still got that pop of green w/ the patch on his leg tho

The goggles are to hide when the grimm starts to show in his eyes.

The gear pin is actually a gear he took from Long Memory as a memento!

The bag on the back of his belt is for carrying Dust rounds.

He tends to have most of his body covered, as to hide the scars he got from the grimm and his time with Salem

The whole team have their emblems slashed for symbolic reasons (and also b/c merc thought it looked cool.) his is on the back of his jacket!

Mercury is arguably the character who's design went through the biggest changes over the years. Truth be told, I had a lot of trouble designing him when I first started, considering his Vale outfit was so bland and didn't give me much to work off of. Thankfully, V8 picked up the slack and gave me a better idea of what to go for.

I designed him to invoke a sort of beat up vigilante kind of feel - someone who's roughing it most of the time, and doesn't really have the time to care about appearances.

His coat is SUPER torn up due to his fighting style, being incredibly close quarters. The rips on the bottom are unintentional, but I imagine that when they got to Vacuo, he just cut the sleeves off it himself.

I wanted to turn the saturation of his colors WAY UP, not only because it looks more interesting this way, but because it's also indicative of the headspace he's in by the time he gets this outfit, which is to say, a lot brighter.

I also wanted to make his face a LITTLE bit more distinct, so I gave him an eyebrow slit and a mole on his cheek, along with a lot of scars from all the fighting he’s done over the years. I imagine Neo helped him with the eyebrow.

The jacket actually has ice Dust woven on the inside, to keep him cool. Nevertheless, he loves to fling it off dramatically during battle, Edward Elric style.

Emerald gifted him the dog tag - it was one of the first pieces of jewelry she ever made.

His emblem is on the back of his coat - he wanted it to stand out from everyone else's, so he slashed it twice.

And on the other hand, Emerald's design is probably the one that's changed the least. I kinda struck gold with the mark 2 outfit, so I didn’t really feel the need to deviate all that much.

I wanted her design to be one that gives the impression of mobility - light, simple enough, with lots of arm and leg room to maneuver around (and yes I know the heels aren't practical for that, let me have this)

I changed the black color to have a hood on her top instead because I thought it fit the character better. Em is a thief after all - hoods are good for stealth.

The biggest change is, of course, the undercut. Out of everyone in the group, Emerald's the most accustomed to the heat, so she'd probably cut it a bit to keep her head a bit cooler.

All the bracelets and earings she's wearing are handmade, probably out of scrap metal she’s found while on the streets. I imagine that Emerald is pretty crafty, and likes making stuff like this in her spare time.

The red accents in her previous outfits were there to match with Cinder (who, noticeably never had any green accents in return) As such, this design lacks any red accents, as she's trying to move on from that toxic relationship.

Her pockets are actually pretty deep, and hold things like bandages and emergency mini smoke grenades.

Her emblem is also on the back of her jacket, matching Oscar's.

And finally, best girl Neo. TBH, I VASTLY prefer her Vale design to her Atlas ones (it's my fave in the whole show) so I drew more from that than the other one.

I was kinda trying to go for a magician's assistant vibe with this outfit, with the bowtie and gloves and all that.

Neo's not very experienced with the heat, being Atlesian, so she didn't really dress properly. As such, she ended up putting her hair in a ponytail.

A fun idea I got right away were slits in her sleeves and pants, but then I one-upped myself, and thought; what if they were lace?

The original design had way too much black and not enough brown, so I tried to incorporate more of that into this design, since, y'know - Neapolitan ice cream and all that.

She's changed the band of her hat to be a more reddish shade, in remembrance of Torchwick, and she's also swapped out the feather to match the rest of her outfit.

And yes, she swapped the sides of her hair each color was on to see if anyone would notice. (No one has said anything yet.)

Her emblem is a pin on the side of her hat. Neo didn't strike me as the type of character to wear an emblem, but I still wanted to incorporate it, so I figured something subtle like a pin would work.

[sykilik101]

Take Two

“You guys, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

Brock waved his hand dismissively, that annoying grin he’d worn for the past half hour still plastered on his face.  “You’re worrying too much, Ash. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Getting sent flying from here all the way to the other side of Kanto?”

Tracey reached across the table to place a hand on Ash’s shoulder, his face much more relaxed and friendly but no doubt hiding the same level of mischief as the breeder next to him. “Trust me, I think this is gonna go great.”

“I’m sure you think so, since you’re not the one who has to...” His tongue turned to knots as he failed to complete his sentence, though the blooming shade of pink on his cheeks spoke on his behalf. “Why do I even have to do this?”

Brock’s smirk grew in amusement, however impossible that seemed. “Well, you’re the one who said-”

“I know what I said,” Ash interrupted, irritation melding with his fluster, “and I’m starting to regret it.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Ash, I called this back when we were traveling together.” Tracey’s voice seemed filled with a genuine sense of care, despite not having objected to this idea at all.

“I’m feeling better already,” Ash replied with a roll of his eyes before turning to look out the window of the Pokémon Center. At the behest of his two older friends, the group had all decided to come to Cerulean City to meet up with a certain redhead Ash was more than fond of. “Besides, I didn’t even really know back then, so how could you?”

"Call it a watcher’s intuition." Tracey added a thumbs up to emphasize his point, though Ash was less than impressed at the boy’s enthusiasm.

"Next you'll tell me that everyone else knew, too.” Crossing his arms, Ash glanced out the window momentarily before turning back to his friends. The two boys looked at each other, exchanging a nervous chuckle. Ash raised an eyebrow before realization slowly kicked in, a blend of horror and humiliation forming on his face. “Y...You two are the only ones who know, right?”

“W-well, we’re pretty sure that she definitely doesn’t know, and as far as we can tell, we’re the only ones you told,” Brock responded, suddenly avoiding eye contact.

“But beyond that, well...let’s just say there’s a good chance that I’m not the only one who, well, called it,” Tracey finished, also finding his gaze drawn to something other than Ash.

The boy in question placed his face into his hands, processing his friends’ admissions. It was true that people over the years had egged him on about his romantic status with her, but he’d always just dismissed it as harmless teasing. The idea that these other people had actually noticed, that he’d been that obvious, was more than he wanted to believe.

The scariest part, however, was that she was a smart girl. “I’m sensitive to others’ feelings.” That’s what she’d said back during their first battle when he was trying to win the Cascade Badge. If everyone else could see it, there was no way she couldn’t see it, right? For all he knew, despite what Brock had said, she was fully aware of how he felt.

But he hadn’t known how he felt, at least not right away. Something about the possibility of Misty recognizing his feelings before him made his head spin. It wasn’t as if things ever became awkward between them because of some potential romance, nor had he gotten any vibes that he’d made her feel uncomfortable in any real way. Maybe she knew, but she was able to continue their best friendship going in spite of that; it wasn’t as if he’d ever treated her differently. Or, maybe she actually didn’t know and he was just overthinking all of this.

He shook his head, taking a breath to try and calm himself down. He couldn’t believe he was really about to-

“I think I see Misty!”

Tracey’s voice broke him from his trance, his gaze snapping to the window. He caught sight of a blaze of red hair making its way towards the center. The gears in his brain went into overdrive, his body buzzing as he watched her viridian eyes slowly coming into focus. Under any other circumstances, he would feel elated to see her, but all he could focus on was the tension in his chest.

I guess this is it.

The glass doors of the Pokémon Center slid open as Misty made her way inside. She looked around for a moment before her eyes eventually landed on the group, a bubbly glee immediately growing on her face. “Hey, you guys!”

“Hi, Misty!” Brock and Tracey replied in unison.

Satisfied at the other two’s greetings, Misty turned to Ash, a playful grin etching itself onto her lips. “What’s wrong, Ash, aren’t you gonna say hi, too?”

“Uh…” The gravity of his situation pulled at his stomach, his mouth dry as his brain tried to recover from hearing her voice in person again. “H-hey, Misty, what’s up?”

Her eyes slowly narrowed suspiciously, leaning towards him. “Is something the matter, Ash?”

Images of what he was supposed to do flashed through his mind, and her face being so close made them much clearer than he wanted them to be. His racing thoughts and rapidly shrinking throat, combined with the sudden increase in temperature, shattered his remaining composure. Without a word he passed Misty and grabbed hold of Brock’s wrist, pulling the boy to the other side of the Pokémon Center.

“Ash, what are you-” Brock started, having managed to pry his hand away, but Ash interrupted him before he could finish.

“Brock, I don’t think I can do this after all.”

A look of confusion grew on Brock’s face, and Ash was grateful it wasn’t the jestful one the breeder had worn before. “Why not?”

“Because she’s so…” He glanced back over at a clearly confused and ever-so-slightly agitated Misty, seemingly trying to force answers out of a distraught Tracey. A fresh coat of pink tinted his cheeks as he stared at her for a few extra moments before turning back to Brock. “...she’s so different now.”

“Different?” Brock took a glance at the girl as well, wincing as Misty took a menacing step towards the watcher. His face relaxed for a moment before that annoying grin returned. “Oh, you mean she’s pretty? Are you absolutely smitten by her, Ash?”

“Brock!” Ash fought to keep his voice hushed, too embarrassed by Brock’s words to even give him the satisfaction of looking back in Misty’s direction.

“Ash, it’s totally fine to think your crush is pretty. In fact, you can tell her you think so after you-”

“I told you, I don’t wanna do this anymore!”

“Do what anymore?”

Ash suddenly found himself practically cheek to cheek with Misty, who’d wrapped her arms around the pair’s shoulders while aiming a leery gaze at him. “What exactly is going on?”

Ash tried to invoke an answer from his chest, but all that came out was silence, his mouth hanging open as he tried to keep calm at Misty’s proximity. Annoyed with his lack of a response, Misty turned to Brock, who flinched before holding a hand up.

“Trust me, I’m not up to anything. It’s all Ash this time.”

Traitor.

Misty once again directed her attention to Ash, who backed away enough to remove her arm from around him. “You’re always up to something, aren’t you, Ash?”

“No, I’m not, and trust me, you’d know if I was!” There was a moment of bliss as he was able to articulate something to her, but that vanished just as quickly when Misty put her hands on her hips expectantly. Brock’s presence as a third wheel seemingly clicked in his head as he discreetly made his way back over to Tracey. Suddenly alone with Misty and irritated at Brock’s retreat, Ash’s gaze went to the floor, along with any semblance of confidence he had. He pursed his lips, working past the lump in his throat. “I was just…I just wanted to…”

He waited for Misty’s usual interrogation tactics, but she didn’t move, didn’t utter a word. Sneaking a look at her face, he found not annoyance but confusion. “What did you want, Ash?”

The softness of her voice coursed through his mind and down into his heart. He stood motionless, realizing that all his daydreaming and planning hadn't truly prepared him for this. It seemed so easy in every mental replay and imagining of this moment, but now he could only falter as Misty stood before him with that trademark pout on her face. He bit his lip, trying with all his might for his body to allow him to just speak to her. “I mean, I...I was just…”

Misty leaned in until she was less than a foot away. “Ash, are you okay? You look kinda red.”

He was, of course, not okay. Ash knew that if they continued to talk, he’d only make a bigger fool of himself, not to mention risk annoying Misty with his barrage of syllables rather than actual words. He decided to do what he’d always done in the past, which was to rely on his gut. He just wished it wasn’t telling him to do this.

Ignoring the stares of the two boys in the background, the confused gaze of the girl in his foreground, and the overcharged beating of his heart, Ash removed his hat, closed his eyes, and gently pressed his mouth to hers.

He'd been given enough kisses from his mom and various girls throughout his journeys, so he thought he had an idea of how to give one himself, but the sensation of her lips on his threw any expectations he had out the window. His body's need to breathe was at odds with his desire to not move a muscle and he wasn't sure which side he wanted to take. The only thing keeping him grounded in reality was the miniscule sensation of her lips shivering against his, though he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

With the faintest smacking sound he eased away from her. Misty had a temper whenever he did anything stupid, and this was certainly a contender for one of the dumbest things he’d ever done. He bit his lip, still able to recall the way hers had felt on his. She made a noise, like a small gasp, and that was enough to give him the fortitude to meet her gaze.

Utter shock.

He’d expected many different emotions, planned for every potential visit to the emergency room, but the expression she wore now meant that this turn of events wasn’t one she expected. He stood ready for Misty to scream at him, hit him, or any other ideas she could concoct to make him pay for what he’d done.

It was a surprise to him, then, when she suddenly turned on her heel and bolted out of the Pokémon Center.

“M-Misty, wait!” He called, but the glass doors had already started to close. A wave of guilt crashed over him, his blood running cold as he watched her back moving further away. He stood motionless for a moment before a flicker of determination coursed through him, clenching his hands into fists.

I knew this was a bad idea.

“Ash, you should-”

Before Brock could finish Ash had already raced through the front doors, willing his feet to move as fast as they could carry him. She had a decent lead on him, as she was just barely staying within his sight as he chased her, but even if he lost her he had a good feeling about where she was going.

The roads of Cerulean eventually revealed the gym, and Ash caught a glimpse of Misty entering it before the doors closed. Making his way to the entrance he slowed to a halt, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. He wiped his forehead and glanced at the doors, thinking that Misty was inside, the same Misty that he’d kissed. His lips contorted meekly, standing up fully and taking one last breath. Hopefully he could find her and make her understand what he felt.

Making his way inside he glanced around, hoping to find some trace of her. Unsurprised at not seeing her anywhere, he began scouring the halls, pondering where she could be. If she were trying to hide from him, she’d probably find one of the various rooms within the gym to hide in. However, given the look on her face before she’d fled, it was more likely that she was trying to find somewhere for comfort, and if that was the case, there was one place in the gym he was sure she’d be.

It took less than a minute to find the door to the gym’s pool. Standing before the entrance Ash rested his hand on his overcharged heart. In a voice almost too quiet to hear, something was telling him that once he entered the pool area, everything would be different between them. He could only hope it would be for the better.

Easing his way inside, he immediately saw the Cerulean City mermaid sitting along the edge of the pool, her legs submerged beneath the water. The noise caught her attention, her cheeks turning a shade of red he could make out from the entrance. She just as soon turned her gaze back downwards, though made no attempt to escape. His internal dictionary was going haywire, trying to find the right words to put together as he made his way towards her.

Standing by her side he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, suddenly finding the same fascination for the pool water she seemed to have. “H-hey, Misty.”

Her silence only heightened the buzzing in his mind as he desperately tried to replace the memory of his lips on hers with ways to get a conversation going. He cleared his throat, considering that maybe she hadn’t heard him, despite the quiet of the large room. “So I, uh…”

His voice seemed to get her attention, as her head tilted in his direction. He could just barely make out her eyes gazing at him, though the red sear across her face was more than visible. Hers was an expression of confusion and vulnerability, and it sent another guilty shock through him. “Misty, I-”

“Why?”

It echoed through the room and reverberated into Ash’s chest. He watched the corner of her jaw clench and relax, recognizing it as how she'd hold her tongue from saying something she'd rather not. He wanted to hear what she had to say, reigning in his explanation in favor of awaiting her reply.

She turned her head away, hiding her gaze from his. “Why did…why did you kiss me?”

Hope and hesitation permeated her words. Though her eyes were hidden from him, the way her fingers jittered in her folded hands said more than enough to him how she must be feeling. She let out a shaky exhale and Ash suddenly found himself scrambling to find an answer for her. “Misty, I kissed you because...I, the reason I kissed you-”

“ASH!”

He’d been the recipient of her screams many times throughout the years, but the look of seething venom dripping from her face was wholly new to him. She appeared to be just barely controlling her words, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the pool. She let out another exhale, her voice dropping hauntingly low. “Why did you kiss me?”

Deciding that his fear wasn’t worth the potential trip to an emergency room, Ash clenched his fists, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to think about it. “Because Brock and Tracey said it would be a good idea!”

Ash was worried that her response would be a terrifying one. In reality, it was the silence that followed that gripped at his heart. With his eyes closed, he could only hear the gentle hum of the air conditioner up along the ceiling. However, next came the sound of something leaving the water, though uncertainty kept his eyes closed.

It was the sudden slap to his cheek that forced them open.

Misty looked as if she were on the verge of a mental explosion. Her face was flushed, the bashful pink she’d worn in the Pokémon Center having morphed into a wrathful red that absolutely terrified him. With every passing second he grew more and more regretful, along with swearing off ever listening to his two closest male friends again. All the same, Misty’s assault jolted Ash’s familiar flare. “What did you do that for?”

“You mean to tell me you kissed me because they said it was- why would it possibly be a good idea, Ash?!”

“Because they said I was better with my actions than my words!”

He’d spoken before he’d had the chance to think about what to say to her, which he felt only solidified their point. All the same, he expected that his remark would only anger her further, so he was pleasantly surprised when some of her irritation seemed to dissipate and be replaced by suspicion.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Though her voice was still low and tinted with irritation, the fire in her irises had lessened the smallest bit. Words swam through his head as he pondered what he could say to even answer that correctly. The most obvious was the truth, but even attempting to form the syllables was enough to make his vocal chords seemingly vanish. However, he grinned in exasperation; maybe that wasn’t the answer. If his actions worked better than his words, then maybe going down that route would suit him better.

He took a step forward, closing the gap to less than a foot between each other. Her body tensed up, but she remained in place. Thankful for her inaction, he extended his hand forward, curling his fingers around hers. His thumb ran along her knuckles, unbidden glee rising in his chest as he savored the softness against his skin. He’d held her hand before, but this was more intimate than any other time. In spite of the hesitation written all over her face, she seemed to agree, her grip tightening as a reflex before loosening.

The atmosphere cleared the fog in his brain, and words which were previously scrambled now seemed to form into something coherent. Staring into her eyes, he swallowed his fears and took a breath. “Well, when you kiss someone, it’s ‘cause, I mean, you know…” If Misty was the smart girl he thought her to be, she’d be able to finish the statement on her own.

At this point the fire had dwindled to a flicker, but his words seemed to restore the soft oceanic waves in her irises. All of his prior apprehension and fear gave way to relief and excitement. The fact that she wasn’t immediately dismissing him or acting awkward told him that his earlier concept of an alternative option was no longer just a possibility, but a certainty.

Misty inhaled a shaky breath, her eyes darting back and forth between his. “So...you mean, you…”

Ash nodded, a giddiness bubbling within him as that redness in her face went soft again. She also appeared to be at a loss of words, likely processing that this was really happening between them. She turned away slightly, clearing her throat. “W-well, kissing me out of the blue like that was still a dumb idea, Ash.”

He shrugged and nodded somberly, a tint of remorse blemishing his previous elation. “I know, but after I told Brock and Tracey, they sort of insisted.”

Misty rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I’ll have to have a talk with them later, but more importantly, Ash…” At this some of her former flare returned, though it had lost all its malice. “That was my first kiss you took without thinking.”

Her first kiss.

In all his excitement and anxiety he hadn’t even given the notion any thought. Guilt permeated his every thought and he immediately scrambled for a way to fix the damage. “I-I didn’t mean to! I was just, I only wanted…” He put his hands in front of him, lowering his head. “I’m sorry, Misty, I’ll do anything to make it up to you!”

She didn’t respond right away, her arms crossed as her gaze went sideways. Her mouth fidgeted as she bit the inside of her bottom lip. Ash watched her fingers piano on her arm as her eyes flickered to him, then to the water, back and forth in rapid succession. He waited with bated breath, anxious at whatever could be going through her mind.

“One condition.”

Misty’s voice was almost too quiet to hear, and Ash probably wouldn’t have heard her if not for the hollow pool room. She was looking back at him now, anxiety showcasing itself all over her face. Ash slowly raised his head back up, his hands falling to his side.

“I’ll forgive you under one condition.”

“S-sure, okay.”

Her hands clasped together, once again tensing and relaxing against each other. She took a deep breath, surprising Ash as her blush somehow grew to match her hair. “So...I’ll pretend that...that the first one didn’t count, but...you have to…”

Hesitation filled her eyes as she stared into his. There was something she really wanted, he could tell, but she was afraid to say it. “It’s okay, Misty. I’ll do whatever you ask. Y’know, as long as you don’t make me give up Pokémon training or something.” He chuckled in spite of himself, somehow thinking that maybe a joke would lighten the mood.

He couldn’t tell if she found it funny, but something about what he’d said softened the tension on her face. She clasped her hands behind her back, closing her eyes with a shake of her head. When they opened, he found a newfound relief in them, as if something had clicked in her that had eliminated whatever was worrying her.

“Ash, I want you to give me a first kiss that does count.”

The cheery sweetness that so blatantly belied her previous nervousness was enough to paint a stroke of ruby across Ash’s cheeks. Confidence that he’d seen in Misty multiple times before had returned, and though the sudden switch in their emotional states caught him off guard, the familiarity of this side of Misty brought with it more of the reason why he’d fallen for her in the first place.

“So, you mean that…”

Misty nodded, her lips pursing bashfully. “It’s like you said, Ash, you only kiss someone you, y’know…” The return of that familiar smirk of hers was enough to send a flutter through his stomach.

He grinned cheekily, reaching up and removing his hat. “So I know I kissed you already, but to be honest, I don’t really know what I’m doin’ as far as kissing goes.”

Misty rolled her eyes playfully. “I’m not surprised. All your kissing experience comes from random girls and possibly a Pokémon, and none of those were on the mouth.” She pointed at her lips for emphasis, which only served to remind Ash of how they’d felt against his and how he’d be savoring that sensation again shortly.

“At least it’s still more experience than you.”

“I’m sure I could’ve gotten kissed if I really wanted to!”

“Maybe in your dreams, Misty!”

“I mean it! Plenty of guys would have been happy to kiss me! I was just saving my first one for-” Her retort came to a screeching halt as she processed what it was she was about to say. The implication alone was enough to light up their faces, though Misty was quick to look away, scratching at her cheek. “I-I mean, y’know…” She fiddled with a strand of her hair for a moment before she looked back at him, nervous elation flooding her eyes. “I guess I’ve kinda, sorta thought about this for a while now.”

Part of Ash was happy that she still seemed to have a semblance of awkwardness around this situation to match his own. He’d known for a good while that he felt something for her, but her words implied that she’d probably felt the same about him for the same length of time, perhaps longer. All those long walks between cities he’d spent daydreaming of hugging her, holding her hand, kissing her...if she was being truthful with him, she’d done the same as well.

With a breath that didn’t seem to carry enough oxygen, he held his hand out to her. If her request was a first kiss that truly counted, he was going to do everything in his power to deliver. She placed her fingertips in his palm, anticipation in her eyes. Even if he was more sure of how she felt now than he was with the first kiss, the expectation of this second one made it feel just as difficult.

“Should I...should we close our eyes?”

The question sounded dumber aloud than in his head, and for a brief moment Misty seemed to feel the same. To her credit she resisted her desire to retort, smiling with a shake of her head. “Ash, you already kissed me, so you should know what to do, right?”

Ash pouted, ducking his head slightly. “Well, I just kind of...did it. I didn’t have much of an idea of what I was doing.” He grinned sheepishly, grateful that Misty didn’t look too annoyed. “But you want this kiss to count, and I do, too; I want to make sure it’s perfect.”

Misty’s eyes went wide, a new flush rising to her cheeks. She was frozen for a moment before her gaze danced about. An awkward smile grew on her lips, her fingers twirling a loose strand of her hair. “I’m not used to you being this sweet.”

Ash chuckled. “And I’m not used to you not being that mad at me for something.”

Misty rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t that mad.”

He pointed at his cheek. “That slap says otherwise.”

Misty’s eyes clouded over for a moment, and Ash swore he saw regret somewhere in there. In an instant, though, her expression relaxed once more, and she appeared as though an idea sparked in her mind. Without a word she leaned forward, pressing her lips to the spot she’d smacked. Ash froze, wondering if the sudden smell of chlorine was from the water or Misty. After a moment she moved back, a sheepish grin decorating her face.

“Better?”

Ash pressed his fingers to where her lips had been, his heart still replaying how soft it had felt. It had only been twice that Misty’s mouth had been on him, but he could tell it was an addiction he now had to live with. His face was on fire and he suddenly found the pool to look especially appealing. Clearing his throat he returned her grin. “Better.”

She returned her hands behind her back, looking especially pleased with herself. “So, are you gonna kiss me or not?”

Despite his elation, a bundle of nerves still took residence in his stomach. He’d thought about this for ages now, but the reality was scarier than he’d anticipated. This rapid heart beat wasn’t new to him; he’d felt it numerous times over his journeys, but it was always something related to some goal he had. This time the girl he liked was involved, and the quiet of the room seemed to make the fear in his head louder. This wasn’t like a battle where he could train to prepare for-

A light bulb lit up in his head and he grinned to himself. Maybe if he warmed himself up, it would go much smoother. He placed his hands on her shoulders, feeling her momentarily go tense before relaxing. Her breathing was shaky, that tender shade of pink cradling her eyes. If nothing else, he was happy to see she was as nervous as he was. He nibbled at his bottom lip, letting out a small exhale.

Here goes nothing.

Leaning forward he planted his lips on her cheek, his mind racing to process how soft it was. He allowed himself to remain there, savoring her smell and the way he could feel her blush against his mouth. His mind kept reminding him that he was kissing Misty and it was all he could do to keep his composure.

Fighting against his nerves, he finally moved away, taking a glance at Misty’s face. Glimpses of bliss shone in her eyes, but confusion muddled her expression. Slowly she smiled a bit meekly.

“Ash, that was nice, but that’s not where you’re supposed to be kissing.”

He nodded. “I know. I’m just kinda nervous, so I thought I would practice.”

Misty cocked her head gently to the side. “Practice?”

Ash nodded, his tongue tying as he knew what would come next. Calling upon the bravery that had aided him for years, he placed another kiss on her cheek, this time just above where the last one was. With each passing second he placed one after another on her, slowly moving from her cheek to her temple, and then to her forehead. Between kisses he could hear his mind reminding him that this was Misty, that he was really doing this with her. None of his previous daydreams prepared him for this, but the adrenaline coursing through him was doing well enough to keep him going.

He eventually placed a kiss on the tip of her nose, at which she finally reacted with a soft giggle. The sound sent a flutter through his stomach, moving back to look her in the eyes. “Ticklish?”

She shook her head, her lips quivering. “Just happy, and still not believing this is really happening.” Her voice was tight, as if she were doing everything in her power to keep her composure from breaking. The cusp of tears hung along the bottom of her eyes and it was enough to tug at Ash’s heart.

He reflexively pulled her into his arms, one hand wrapped around her waist and the other rubbing her back. She returned the hug, leaning into him and nuzzling her face into the nape of his neck. The sensation of her exhales on his skin sent shivers down his spine. “I just want your first real kiss to be special.”

Misty hummed into him, pulling him closer. “Ash, my first real kiss is all yours. I’m sure it will be.”

Her offered ownership sent a thrill through his body, pulling away to look into her eyes. In all the years he’d known her, he’d never seen the expression she wore now. Hope and affection permeated every fiber of her gaze and he found himself being slowly drawn in. And yet, he held his place, serenely content with the view. This was the side of Misty he’d been wanting to see for as long as he could remember, and the fact that she was here showing him meant more than any words he could come up with. He settled for softly smiling to himself, an act which invoked a puzzled look on Misty.

“What is it, Ash?”

Watching her mouth create words was hypnotizing, though he was able to pull himself out of the trance. “I was just thinking that I can’t believe I get to kiss you.”

Misty grinned bashfully, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Well, you kind of owe me one anyway, so…”

There it was, that smart sass of hers that had pulled him in and never let him go. There was always something between them, some argument or contest that stirred up a confrontation, no matter how harmless. It always thrilled him, kept things exciting. She both pushed and tested him, always encouraging him to be better than he was. The fantasy of always having this girl by his side gave him that familiar flutter inside, the kind that spurred him on to be brave against whatever odds were in front of him.

“Mist, I’m not doing this just because I owe you.”

He pulled her closer to him, watching the way her eyes dilated from being less than a foot away from his. He heard the faintest gasp escape her lips before they curved upwards, quickly gaining a sheen as Misty ran her tongue along them. She moved even closer until her mouth was mere inches away from his.

“Then hurry up and kiss me, Ash.”

Her whisper was intoxicating and inviting, and any semblance of apprehension Ash had left evaporated. As if on instinct, his hands moved to her face, running his thumbs over her cheeks for support and his own satiation. For a moment he found himself frozen in place, once more mesmerized by the color in her eyes. The growing excitement in his stomach pushed through his paralysis, pulling her mouth towards his. He started drawing in a breath to control his heart, but before he could finish he’d already pressed his lips to hers.

The first time he’d kissed her, it had been to confess, a way to convey how he felt about her. Second-guessing thoughts had whirred in his brain, and he hadn’t been able to savor it in the mutually loving way he’d hoped for. As Misty exhaled the tiniest bit, her mouth gently opening before closing around his bottom lip, a warm rush surged through him and it took all of his self-control to keep from grinning like an idiot.

Misty apparently lacked that willpower as he felt her warming cheeks pull upwards in his palms. She leaned further into him with a hum, the hold on his neck tightening as she brought him closer. Their lips had scarcely moved, but it was enough of a sensation to send his heart flying across his chest in random directions. His body couldn’t decide between staying in hesitation or succumbing to its impulses, but the way her mouth nudged his gave him his answer.

He pulled away slightly, taking in another breath before pressing back into the kiss. Her arms relaxed around him, and if he didn’t know any better the way she began to slouch against him was almost like she was melting. Releasing his hold on her face his hands found her hips, his fingertips resting on the fabric of her shorts as his thumb grazed her skin. She arched towards him, her sudden inhale becoming his new favorite sound.

Like a light going off in his head, Misty suddenly felt too far away, and he craved her closeness in a way that was novel to him. A moment of exploration later and he’d found the belt loops of her shorts, hooking his fingers inside them and pulling her against him. This earned him a gasp, another addition to the reactions he was evoking out of her, reactions that were becoming more and more addicting. That smirk that had been nagging at him finally broke through his overthinking, elation and excitement bubbling away inside him.

It wasn’t until Misty finally eased back that he realized how out of breath he was. Their foreheads rested against each other as they gasped for air, their exhales echoing through the room. As his heart rate began to slow, Ash opened his eyes to the sight of Misty’s staring back at him. Every syllable of giddy pumped through his veins, staving off the sudden urge to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“So...was that a good first kiss?”

Her smile went a mile wide, her giggle making his heart flutter. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”

He chuckled in response, running his hand along the back of his neck. “I’m glad.”

“But you know…”

Her lingering voice hinted at any number of the possibilities he’d imagined in his head over the years, and the expression she wore was all of those feelings made tangible. “Yeah?”

“I want the second kiss to be special, too. And the third, and the fourth, and all the other ones after that.”

It was amazing how her sass could even find its way into their moments of sweetness, but it only emboldened the joy speeding through him. A heavy degree of self-control was the only reason he hadn’t devolved into a fit of laughter at the surrealness of it all, but he was willing to match her banter with his own. “What if I lose count, then?”

She pecked him on the cheek, clearly sharing in his jubilation. “Then you’ll have to start over, including making the first one extra special.”

He brought his hands back up to her face, absorbed in the warm softness of her cheeks and the glistening of her eyes. This was it. It was her, and he always wanted it to be. He pressed his lips to hers once more, savoring how soft they were and how tenderly she returned the kiss. Taking action had gotten him to this point, but maybe a few choice words wouldn’t hurt the intimacy. Easing away he knew she’d catch his sheepish smirk, but in his bliss he wasn’t inclined to care.

“Sorry, I’ve already lost count.”

Fun fact: the original idea for this story was for Misty to be the one to randomly kiss Ash. However, the more I kept developing and thinking about this story, the more sense it made for it to be Ash who did the kissing. In fact, once I reached the halfway point, the story went in a very different direction than I first imagined, but I decided to roll with it. This ended up having a bit more depth than the original, cutesy idea I had for it, but hopefully you enjoyed it all the same.

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] Also on AO3

Chapter 18: Tim

They’ve only just managed to calm down when someone knocks on the door. Tim is at first a touch nervous—he’s usually at work by now, so it shouldn’t be anyone actively looking for him unless a neighbor has seen the car in the driveway and surmised he has a guest—but he relaxes and grins when he opens it and sees who’s actually there. “You know, it’s unlocked. You can just come in.”

“We didn’t want to scare anyone,” Jon says softly.

“Failed step one. I couldn’t think who’d be knocking on my door at ten in the morning.” Tim steps back to let them in. “Then again, do monsters usually knock on doors instead of just barging in?”

“Yes, actually,” Jon Prime says. “Or at least some of them do.”

Tim snorts and shuts the door behind them. He can smell just the faintest hint of cigarette smoke off of one of them, but doesn’t say anything, not even when Jon sheds his cardigan and hangs it on one of the hooks, looking a tad guilty. Instead, he turns back to the living room. “Come on in. Martin and I made tea. If you two have been having anything like the conversations we have, you probably need it.”

He leads them back to the living room and announces as he steps in, “It’s just Jon Squared. Seriously, the lot of you, you don’t have to knock unless it’s locked. Mi casa es vuestra casa.”

Jon Prime goes straight to Martin Prime’s side and touches his shoulder gently; Martin Prime looks up in his direction with a slight half-smile. “Hey. You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jon Prime assures him, his voice low and intimate. Tim’s heart turns over. “You?”

“We’re fine.” Martin Prime shifts slightly to the side, even though there’s no need. Jon Prime settles in next to him.

Jon hesitates before perching on the arm of the sofa rather than ask Martin to move over a little more, which Martin is clearly about to do. Tim decides not to mention it. Instead, he picks up the two mugs on the coffee table, identical save that one is blue-grey and the other is forest green, and hands one to Jon and the other to Jon Prime. “Here. They should be the same—they are the same, right, Martin?” he adds, glancing at Martin.

“Yeah. Erm, I—I didn’t know if you—I assume you still drink it the same way, I just—” Martin gestures helplessly in Jon Prime’s direction. “I would have asked, but he was in here and—”

“It’s fine, Martin,” Jon Prime says, his eyes crinkling upwards at the corners. “How I like my tea hasn’t changed.”

Jon stares into the depths of the mug in his hands like it holds the secrets of the universe, or possibly like he’s wondering if there’s enough in it to drown himself in. Tim settles back onto the sofa and picks up his own mug. “Great. So now that we have something to build on…where do we go to next?”

Sasha drums her fingers on the arm of the sofa for a minute, and Tim just knows she’s about to ask one of the deepest, darkest questions she can come up with. Thankfully, Martin seems to get that vibe too and jumps in before she can say anything. “Okay, so—so you were talking about being marked by the entities. W-what does that actually…mean in the long term? I mean, is it—what does it do?”

“For the most part,” Jon Prime says slowly, “nothing, really. It—being marked by an entity simply means that anyone who worships or follows or—or is a part of that entity will be drawn to you. It makes you a bigger target to them.”

“You’ve already got that baseline of fear, you see,” Martin Prime adds. “And you felt it down to your bones, so it’s not a case of ‘I looked my fear in the eye and I’m no longer afraid of it’, usually, it’s more of ‘I looked my fear in the eye and now I know what there is to be scared of’, which makes it worse. So those…entities, if you run into them, will be more likely to try something on you.”

“Brilliant,” Tim mutters, eyeing the bandages on Martin’s hands and face. Jon reaches out, like he wants to put a protective hand on Martin’s arm, but stops himself.

Jon Prime sighs and looks up at Jon. “But unfortunately, as in so many other things, it does mean something worse for you.”

“Me?” Jon stiffens. “What would being marked do to me?”

Jon Prime presses his lips together for a moment. Martin Prime touches Jon Prime’s hand lightly. “Do you…want me to tell them?”

“No. No, it ought to come from me.” Jon Prime turns his hand over and squeezes Martin Prime’s gently. “Each of the…entities has a ritual. Something designed to…bring them fully into the world, allow them to take it over. End the world as we know it and create a new world entirely devoted to fear, fear that feeds directly into that entity. Jonah Magnus has dedicated two hundred years to perfecting that ritual and bringing it to fruition.”

“B-but—wait, wait.” Martin takes a deep breath. “If—if these things are like Smirke said—balance and all that, you can’t—how can you be afraid of something if you don’t know what the world’s like without it? If the—if the Buried takes over, how can you be afraid if you don’t know the sky’s still out there? How can you be afraid of the dark if light doesn’t exist? You can’t just create a world where nothing exists but one fear, because then you—it’s just normal. Right?”

“Exactly. Which is why most of the entities’ rituals will…collapse on their own. Something Gertrude Robinson didn’t figure out until the end of her life—nor, for that matter, did Jonah Magnus—and something I’m afraid I—”

“We,” Martin Prime interrupts emphatically.

“—learned too late,” Jon Prime continues. “However, there is…Jonah has a ritual that he thought would work, that would bring all the entities into the world, with one at their head. And the keystone to that ritual is the Archivist.”

“No,” Martin and Tim say in almost the exact same tone. No, they won’t let that happen, they can’t.

“What is the ritual, though?” Sasha asks. “What does it do?”

“It’s called the Watcher’s Crown. Broadly, it involves allowing the Archivist to collect marks from all the entities, in effect becoming an Archive in and of themselves, and then…and then reciting an invocation to bring the fears forth into the world.” Jon Prime looks like he’s about to be sick. “In our timeline, when Jane Prentiss attacked, it was the middle of the day. Elias was watching from the moment he knew she’d attacked, his hand on the override switch for the CO2 system because there was no actual fire. He wanted to see how I acquitted myself, what happened. If I could survive it, because if I couldn’t, I wouldn’t be any use to him. I did—barely—and mostly because of Martin and Tim. From that point on, Elias—Jonah—deliberately put me in the way of as many powers as he could, so I would get the marks. And because I didn’t know what he was doing until far too late, I couldn’t avoid it. I had very little choice except to trust what he said. Then, once I had all fourteen…”

“He tricked you into saying the invocation,” Jon says softly. He doesn’t seem overly surprised.

“He disguised it as a statement.” Martin Prime’s voice sounds the way it did when he imitated Elias in the Archives—can it have only been yesterday? Tim feels like he’s aged a year since then. “Pretended it was something else, then taunted him about it. Explained his entire plan before ending with the words to invoke the ritual.”

“And I couldn’t stop, once begun,” Jon Prime adds. “Not without being interrupted. I—I always preferred to do the statements alone, so Martin had gone out for a walk. He didn’t get back until…after it was done. I had to speak the entire statement aloud.”

“He made you monologue for him? The bastard,” Tim says. He really is genuinely horrified by the idea, but he can’t resist the urge to make at least a somewhat lighthearted quip.

Martin Prime snorts, but some of the tightness leaves his face. “Now that you mention it, I can’t actually vouch for his parentage.”

Jon Prime actually gives a soft but genuine chuckle. “At any rate, that’s what we’re hoping to prevent.”

“But you already have, right?” Tim says. “Jon didn’t get attacked by the worms, so he hasn’t been marked by the—the Corruption. That means the plan hasn’t worked, right?”

“Yet,” Martin points out. “I mean, there’s—there’s no saying Jane Prentiss is the only avatar of the Corruption, right?”

Martin Prime nods. “She was the main one. The other one we kept encountering in statements is—” He turns to Jon Prime. “He is dead, right?”

“Yes, he’s been taken care of. But Martin is right, there are others,” Jon Prime tells them. “And there’s honestly no saying the Corruption had to be the first mark. Jonah is simply waiting to see how you acquit yourself when you do encounter one of the entities. Attacks were fairly common when Gertrude was the Archivist.”

“And they were fairly common for us, too,” Martin Prime adds.

“So we’ve got to keep Jon from getting hurt by anything at all,” Tim says.

“Sure. That won’t be hard,” Sasha mumbles. Tim kicks her in the ankle and she glares at him.

“No, she’s right. We—we’re going to do our best, but honestly, I don’t think there’s any stopping you getting at least one more before we can take Jonah down.” Jon Prime cocks his head at Jon. “And I don’t think it’s in your best interest that you not, actually.”

Martin sputters, but Jon nods slowly. “You mean that if I don’t…he’ll get suspicious. Especially if—” He shakes his head. “I’m not putting you in that kind of danger. God. Never mind the danger from the other entities—what would Elias do if he realized you three knew enough to potentially thwart his plans?” He looks up anxiously at Jon Prime. “Could he—never mind, I know the answer to that. Would he, though? Would he think he could get away with it?”

Jon Prime hesitates. “Probably. A-after all, most of us…don’t really have that many connections outside the Institute, I—” He breaks off and looks at Sasha in some little confusion.

Sasha, surprisingly, looks a little uncomfortable with the scrutiny. Tim raises an eyebrow and looks back and forth between her and Jon Prime, but she manages not to say anything and he doesn’t seem inclined to ask.

After a moment of silence, Martin Prime makes a soft ah noise. “The Not-Sasha told us she—you—had a boyfriend named Tom.”

“Oh!” Is it Tim’s imagination, or does Sasha sound relieved? “No. No, I’m single.”

“I thought as much. I—I was always fairly certain that was just its cover for why it was going to Madame Tussauds every day.” Jon Prime studies Sasha a moment longer, then returns to the group at large. “Under most circumstances, I-I’d say it was unlikely he’d actually do it himself. He’s not fond of getting his hands dirty. More likely to manipulate someone else into doing it, but if he was desperate enough…”

It’s at that point that Tim realizes Jon—and Jon Prime—are implying that Elias might actually kill them if he thinks they’re standing between him and world domination. He resists the urge to gather Martin and Sasha close to him; Sasha wouldn’t appreciate it and Martin will just hurt. “Okay, but is there a way we can keep Jon from getting hurt and keep Elias from being suspicious?”

“Not really.” To Tim’s surprise, it’s Jon who answers, not one of the Primes. “I—if he really can watch us whenever he wants to, he’s going to be watching me for a while, I think. I couldn’t figure out why he seemed so…disappointed in me when he was talking to me last night.  Maybe he really did think I ran out of the Archives to save my own skin and left all of you down there, but from what you all have said so far, I-I think he’s more disappointed he didn’t get to see how I handled myself. I’d imagine he’s going to be even more interested in my next potential encounter with an entity.”

Jon Prime smiles sadly. “You catch on quickly, Archivist.”

Martin Prime frowns briefly, but says nothing. Tim decides not to ask. “What is the next one, anyway?”

“For me, it—well, the next one I encountered would have been the Not-Sasha, which is the Stranger, but a-apparently it didn’t mark me,” Jon Prime says. “The next one for me was the Spiral. But there’s no guarantee they’ll go in the same order.”

“Well, it’s something, at least. What do we need to prepare for?” Tim studies Jon Prime. “If I’m remembering right, the…description of the painting didn’t have a symbol, so that means you’ve got a physical scar from it, right?”

Jon Prime rests a hand on his side, seemingly without conscious thought. “Yes. It—Michael came into my office. He, he was stalking a woman…she’d come to give a statement. I-I found out later Jonah directed her there with the idea of leading the Distortion, the Spiral, to me. He…took her when she tried to leave.”

“The painting title,” Martin murmurs. “There Has Never Been a Door There. That means something, right?”

“It’s…all of those titles, at least in the ones of me, were things said during those encounters. My guess is that those were the points when it was irreversible, where I had gone too far and there was no chance of me leaving the encounter without a mark. The Distortion…it throws up those doors, leading to its realm, but it can’t actually pull you in. You have to open the door yourself. O-or knock, or whatever. Michael caused a door to appear in the wall of my office, and—”

“His victim took that door instead of the actual door,” Tim guesses.

Jon Prime nods. “I didn’t realize it myself until he pointed it out. And when I tried to argue with him, he stabbed me.”

“And because he was so paranoid at the time,” Martin Prime puts in, “Jon told us he’d accidentally stabbed himself.”

“And you believed him?” Tim says incredulously.

“No. He’s usually a good liar, but the fact that taking statements used to drain him combined with the fact that he was bleeding heavily made it harder for him to be convincing. He was also really paranoid at the time, though—I was only just starting to realize how paranoid—and I decided not to push him on it. Mistake, maybe, but it felt like the right decision at the time.” Martin Prime raises an eyebrow in Jon Prime’s direction, albeit with a slight half-smile. “Which isn’t to say that I didn’t make it clear I was only humoring him.”

“He hovered,” Jon Prime tells them. There’s an undercurrent of affection in his voice. “At the time, I tried to convince myself there was something sinister behind his constant attention, but even at my most paranoid I couldn’t quite manage it. I don’t know that I ever really believed you were a suspect.”

Martin Prime shakes his head. “Oh, I’m pretty sure you did. I know I wasn’t high on your list, but you did actually suspect me.”

Sasha looks back and forth between the two of them. “Sorry, have I missed part of this conversation?”

Jon holds up a hand. “While we’re discussing things that may have been missed—you keep talking about a Not-Sasha. You mentioned that in your statement, too, but—what is that? Everyone but me seems to understand.”

Martin Prime looks slightly sheepish. So does Jon Prime. Tim studies both of them, then ventures, “Maybe you two could just…tell us everything you’ve been through? Or as much as you feel like we ought to know. You don’t have to give us all the details, but at least, like, the Cliff Notes version?”

The Primes look at each other, or at least in each other’s direction; Tim sees several emotions play out across Jon Prime’s face. Finally, he squeezes Martin Prime’s hand briefly and turns back to the others, nodding. “I think we can manage that.”

They begin to talk, starting with the attack on the Institute and the immediate fallout from that. Tim listens in growing alarm and horror as they lay out the bare bones of what they’ve gone through in the last two years. He can feel Martin trembling at his side, while on the other, Sasha actually pulls away from him, leaning forward slightly with an intent expression, like she’s drinking in all the information. When Jon Prime describes his desperate flight into the tunnels to escape the thing pretending to wear Sasha’s face, Jon lets out a soft, high-pitched noise of fear and pain.

Tim doesn’t think; he just reacts. He reaches over and grabs Jon, dragging him over Martin’s lap and only belatedly remembering the mug of tea, which Jon fortunately no longer appears to be holding. There’s not really time for either of them to be startled before Tim has Jon slotted into the spot between Tim and Martin. Before they had Martin between them because, Tim suspects, they both felt the need to protect him; now it’s Jon who needs that protection. Tim puts his arm around Jon’s shoulders and touches Martin’s on the other side. Martin, almost hesitantly, does the same. Jon stiffens for just a second, then seems to melt back against their crossed arms.

A look flits across Jon Prime’s face for a second, warmth mingled with pure, unadulterated pain, and it makes Tim unconsciously shift a little closer to Jon. Jon Prime doesn’t comment, though, merely takes a deep breath and continues talking.

True to Tim’s suggestion, they don’t give all the details, but the little they do tell is enough. Jon reaches over and grabs Tim’s hand while Martin squeezes his shoulder when Martin Prime’s voice cracks telling them about the phone call from the one person to walk away from the Unknowing alive and unhurt; the three of them bunch closer together when Jon Prime grits out the basics of his interview with Jared Hopworth; Jon takes Martin’s free hand as gently as possible when they lay out the bare bones of the confrontation with Peter Lukas. Sasha occasionally shoots sympathetic glances in their direction, at least at first, but she seems more focused on the tale than on her colleagues’ reactions.

“…And then the world ended,” Jon Prime concludes, sounding tired.

Martin exhales hard. “Christ.”

Sasha cocks her head to one side, studying the Primes. “And then what?”

“And then we decided to try and fix it.”

“No, I mean, what was it like? The end of the world. What happened? What did it look like?”

Jon Prime stares at Sasha. He looks both genuinely confused and not a little alarmed. His eyes slide over to the knot of humanity that is Tim, Jon, and Martin, then back to Sasha. Tim would give a year’s salary to know his thoughts.

“It did exactly what Jonah wanted it to do,” Martin Prime says, his voice sharpened to the same point as when he answered Sasha’s probing questions about her fate. “And it looked like hell on Earth.”

Sasha jerks backwards, then blinks hard and presses her fingertips to her mouth. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

“‘It’?” Jon Prime repeats.

“I asked him why I didn’t have more marks in your timeline,” Sasha says through her fingers. “Even though I knew I was—that the me in your time had died. I knew that from the picture. But I pushed him, I made him say it out loud. I swear I’m not usually like this. I-I mean, I’m curious, don’t get me wrong. I want to know things. But I usually know to stop before…I don’t ask questions I can guess the answer to just to watch people hurt.”

Jon Prime studies her for a moment. Quietly, he says, “You’ll forgive me if we keep a close eye on you, Sasha.”

“Please do. I—I don’t want to lose myself.”

Tim almost reaches over to take her hand, but all of his hands are currently occupied and she probably wouldn’t appreciate it anyway. He settles for nudging her ankle with his foot. She nudges back and manages a smile, lacing her fingers together. Tim returns his gaze to the Primes and tries to regain his equilibrium, to summon up a way to break the heavy mood that’s settled over them, or at least ease it back. At the same time, he has a question that’s been persisting in the back of his mind, and he knows he needs to ask it before he lets it fester.

“While we’re asking questions,” he says. “You said I wouldn’t like the way to make the dreams stop. I’m assuming it’s not the same ‘only when they die’ thing as you told Jon when he asked.”

“No. Those are…two very different things.” Jon Prime rubs his thumb over Martin Prime’s knuckles. It looks like it might be hard enough to hurt.

“What did you mean by that?” Jon asks, sounding almost afraid of the answer.

“You’ve only got two right now, right?” Jon Prime frowns, like he’s trying to remember. “The woman in the cemetery and the…incident in the Cambridge Military Hospital.”

“Yes.” Jon’s voice is barely above a whisper. “God, you’re not telling me there will be more?”

“I’m afraid so. The dreams are a side effect of the statements, or…perhaps an extension of them. Strictly speaking, they aren’t your dreams. They’re the dreams of those who experienced them at first—those who handed over their terror to you in the first place. You’re simply…watching them.”

Jon’s eyes widen. “Oh, God.”

“W-wait, you can just—you can just see people’s dreams?” Martin demands.

“Not quite. It’s more…when is terror at its most pure? When it’s being experienced firsthand…and when you relive it in the dead of night.”

Tim flinches, because Jon Prime is right. He doesn’t remember being scared in the theater the first time, although he knows he must have been, but when he dreams about it, it’s always so much worse, because he knows and he’s powerless to stop it. Martin’s fingers squeeze against his shoulder again, even though he can’t know what Tim is thinking of, which in retrospect is totally unfair because Martin’s trusted Tim with so much about himself and Tim has trusted him so little in return.

Jon is shaking his head. “No, but—i-if it’s the real statements, I—why don’t I dream about the others, then? God, I’d have thought Carlos Vittery’s statement would give me nightmares, but—”

“Your fear isn’t interesting to the Ceaseless Watcher,” Jon Prime says. “Not when it can see it whenever it wants to. It’s the same for your assistants, which is why you weren’t all sharing nightmares about the infestation last night. And the ones you’ve recorded, the—the stale ones, that’s why they’re not as satisfying to…well, me, I suppose. It’s all secondhand. You’re not drawing the terror right out of them. The live statements, though…you sat with them, you drew out their fears, you heard and felt their emotional connection. You’ve also created a connection from them to the Watcher itself. Now when they dream about it, there’s the added terror of not only what they’re going through, but also the knowledge that someone, something, is standing right there watching them and doing nothing to stop it.”

Jon flinches hard. Even Tim feels a stab of pain lance through him at the thought. “Wait, they can see him? You? I mean, you said you didn’t dream last night…”

“Because, in this timeline, I haven’t heard any of the statements, I suppose,” Jon Prime says. “We didn’t really need to sleep after the world ended, and on the rare occasions I did…the Eye probably considered those pre-apocalyptic fears petty and pedestrian, compared to the horrors available after. Assuming…” He trails off. “Anyway, the only one who’s actually given a statement to you so far that I might still be able to see is Naomi Hearn. I stopped seeing Melanie in my dreams after she joined the Institute, which is why Daisy joined in the first place. To make the dreams stop. Otherwise, the only way they tend to stop dreaming about it is if they die.”

And suddenly, Tim gets it. “So that’s how to stop my dreams. To make a statement about them.”

“Essentially, yes. A-at least I think that’s how it works. Our Tim didn’t make a statement directly to me, I—I was in America at the time. Martin was the one who did the recording.”

“They stopped,” Martin Prime says quietly. “He thanked me later. Grudgingly. Said maybe not talking about it had kept him obsessing over it in his sleep. I didn’t put the pieces together until…after, and I still don’t know if they stopped before you listened to the tape or not.”

Martin cocks his head, studying his counterpart. “And you won’t have dreams? After…” He gestures at the recorder, then seems to remember Martin Prime can’t see him. “After giving your statement?”

“No. I’m cut off from the Eye completely.” Martin Prime taps the corner of his eye for emphasis. “It can’t See me, and therefore can’t use me. Melanie was the same.”

Tim’s still trying to wrap his brain around the angry former B-list Internet celebrity being part of their team, but he can at least see her gouging her own eyes out to get away from it. “Okay. So we’ve established the swirling vortex of terror that is your lives. How do we stop that from happening to us?”

“In the first place,” Jon Prime says, “don’t let Jonah know how much you know.”

“Can he read minds?” Martin asks nervously.

“In a limited fashion. It really depends on how hard he’s concentrating and how much you’re thinking about…whatever it is.” Jon Prime appears to think for a moment. “I think it may be stronger if it’s directed at him. He certainly always seemed to know when Melanie was about to make her latest attempt on his life.”

“To be fair, that was most of the time,” Martin Prime points out.

“Yes, well, point. But still. He never…all right, truth be told, he never exactly outright said what he knew, unless it was to his advantage. Like when he…” Jon Prime trails off.

“Like when he went after me,” Martin Prime supplies quietly. “Or Melanie. But for what it’s worth, I think you’re right. I think it’s…harder for him to sift through people’s brains if they’re not in the room with him, or if they’re not aiming in his direction. And he outright told me he’d never considered me worth paying that much attention to until I started burning those statements.”

“He knew—” Jon Prime begins and then snaps off the sentence. Tim almost misses the quick, slightly guilty glance he shoots in Martin’s direction.

“Jon, I’m almost completely certain that the only person at the Institute who didn’t know that was you.”

Jon Prime ducks his head sheepishly, but his lips quirk upwards in a smile nevertheless, and his eyes are warm as he regards Martin Prime. Seeing them like this feels right, and Tim tries to ignore the sudden flash of melancholy in his chest.

“Anyway,” Jon Prime says, returning his gaze to the four on the sofa and obviously fighting to get his face under control, “as we said earlier, if Jonah guesses you know anything, he may…do something drastic. So the first step is going to be to keep him from knowing you’re not as ignorant as he wants you to be. You especially, Archivist.”

“Don’t think I don’t know why you’re doing that, Jon,” Martin Prime says warningly.

Tim has no idea what he’s talking about, but it’s evident Jon Prime does. He looks like he’s gearing up to argue, then evidently changes his mind and sighs. “Right. You’re right. I’m sorry.” Turning back to Jon, he continues, “It’s why he murdered Jurgen Leitner in the first place—to keep me as ignorant as possible.”

“So if he knows that any of us have figured it out, he’ll kill us before we can tell Jon,” Sasha says. “What would he do if he knew Jon knew? If it’s okay to ask that,” she adds quickly.

Jon Prime gives her a quick half-smile. “That’s fine. And don’t worry, Martin, I’m not trying anything,” he adds, squeezing Martin Prime’s hand. “That’s a hypothetical, so I can’t Know that for sure, but my guess is that he’d kill him and go looking for a new Archivist. Again.”

Tim flinches at the bland statement. “Right, and we obviously want to prevent that. I mean, apart from the obvious ‘let’s not end the world’ thing, we definitely want Jon to stay alive. So apart from continuing to play stupid, what’s the plan?”

Jon Prime hesitates and looks at Martin Prime, who grimaces. “That’s…we probably can’t tell you our plan in detail. Let’s just say it’s best if you are actually ignorant of that until it happens. For your part, just…watch out for one another. Don’t let Elias push you apart. He’s…very good at sowing seeds of discontent under the guise of ‘promoting a healthy workplace environment’. And for God’s sake, keep an eye out for anything odd. Be careful when you’re out investigating statements.” His eyes flick up to Tim’s for a moment, and Tim swallows down a bit of not wholly unwarranted guilt at the worry in them. “If it’s something you’re truly worried about, get word to us and we’ll see what we can do to help. Either by giving you the information you need without you having to chase it down or by, well, chasing it down for you.”

“You can do that?” Martin sounds genuinely surprised.

“Why not? For the most part, we do know the answers, but if it’s something Elias is going to want proof for, we can easily get it for you.”

Tim notes, if only to himself, that Jon Prime refers to their evil overlord as Elias when he’s talking about day-to-day Institute business and Jonah the rest of the time. It’s probably a useful distinction. “What do we do about the table? If it comes?”

“I—I assume it’s when, not if. Breekon and Hope will have to deliver it at some point. And, honestly, I don’t know.” Jon Prime sighs. “Elias suggested we destroy it. I’m still not sure if it’s because he wanted me to destroy it so the thing trapped by it would get loose and come after me or if it was because he thought suggesting it be destroyed was the best way to make me not destroy it, so the thing could catch someone unaware.”

“Honestly, I don’t think he knew for sure what it was,” Martin Prime says slowly. “Not until it…well, you know. Not until after the attack. I think he really did want it destroyed. Maybe he saw it as a legitimate threat. But we still don’t really know what to do with it. Sasha, you worked in Artifact Storage—would they leave it alone if you sent up a copy of Amy Patel’s statement, maybe warned them what might be in it?”

“No. That’d be the fastest way to make them investigate it, actually. Addison—Dr. Bradley—can get a bit…obsessive about things that might actually have some paranormal significance.” Sasha purses up her lips thoughtfully. “On the other hand—why suggest destroying it to you? I mean, technically if it’s in the purview of Artifact Storage…”

“I think it’s because it was technically delivered to me. Rosie signed for it and had them take it up to Artifact Storage because, well, it was an artifact, but it was addressed to me. I-I suppose it was, strictly speaking, mine to dispose of as I saw fit.”

“Then I think all Jon has to say is ‘don’t touch it’. Lock it in its own room. That ought to do it.” Sasha seems uncertain. “Maybe.”

Jon swallows hard. “Right. As long as they bring it to me at the Institute and not…personally.”

Jon Prime offers him what he probably hopes is a reassuring smile. “I actually do have some small idea, but I’d need to…unfortunately, take a look at the table before I can be sure. And I’m not sure I can risk that.”

“Yeah, there are actually cameras up in Artifact Storage,” Sasha says. “But, I mean, would they be good enough to pick out the differences in the two of you?”

“I don’t know that my ability to shield myself from Jonah’s…attentions will extend to CCTV, so I’d rather not try,” Jon Prime answers. “Not until we’re a little more secure. A bit more settled.”

Jon takes a deep breath. “Well, you’ve got a few days to decide. Elias was a bit grudging when I asked him to give us a day or two to breathe, but either he finally realized none of us would get much work done with the Archives knee-deep in worm corpses or it occurred to him the police are going to want to look into some things—”

“Or he recognized that you were about six seconds from either a complete mental breakdown or a homicidal rampage,” Tim interjects.

“Tim!” Martin says reproachfully.

“I’m serious. You were in quarantine, you didn’t see the way he was trying to chew through anyone remotely official.”

“Nobody would tell me anything,” Jon mumbles.

Jon Prime smiles. “Whatever the reasoning, Elias did at least agree to give you some time off?”

Jon nods and looks up. “Until Monday. A-and of course Martin’s going to be out for a while. You’re—you’re not in any shape to come back right now. You need to rest.”

“Yeah.” Martin exhales heavily and frees his hand from Jon’s to rub it over his face. “Another however many weeks holed up in my flat, I guess. At least this time I’ll have power. Maybe.”

Martin Prime winces. “Ah—about that? You didn’t think to get in touch with Mrs. Mattson, did you?”

“N—oh, Christ, the lease was up for renewal on the twelfth.” Martin pales. “It’s only been a couple weeks—m-maybe it’ll still be okay?”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re staying here,” Tim tells him.

“Tim—”

“No, don’t you ‘Tim’ me. You don’t need to stay on your own when I’ve got plenty of space right here. And it’ll make me feel better if you’re somewhere I can keep an eye on you, just in case things get bad.” Tim makes an effort to soften his voice. “You’ve been alone enough. Why do it again if you don’t have to?”

Martin blinks at him in evident surprise. Jon eases his hand away from Tim’s and touches Martin’s knee lightly. “I know I’d feel better if there was someone looking out for you. I—I shouldn’t have left you alone in the Archives, and I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s—it’s not your fault.” Martin doesn’t seem to know what to do with all of this, but he does at least seem to realize that he’s only being given one option. “All right. If—if you’re sure.”

Tim nods, then adds to Jon, “You’re staying, too, you know.”

“What?” Jon looks startled.

“I’m serious. Look, call me paranoid if you want, but…after what we just went through? After what we’ve just heard? I don’t want to let any of you out of my sight, and if that makes me sound crazy, I’ll live with that. The point is that I will live with it, and so will you. Just…please. At least until we’ve got a better handle on everything.” Tim looks from Jon to Sasha and back. “I can even clean out the study and turn it back into a spare room.”

“Tim, that’s not necessary,” Jon says softly. “I—of course. I-if it means that much to you, I’ll stay for a while.”

Sasha manages a smile. “Yeah, all right, why not? God knows you need a keeper, too.”

“Shut up,” Tim grumbles without any real heat. He looks over at the Primes, who are both regarding him a little sadly. “It’s a given that you two are staying, of course. Don’t suppose you have anywhere else to go.”

Martin Prime’s cheeks color slightly, and Tim realizes how that probably came out. Before he can apologize, Jon Prime says, “As much as I’d rather not, all things considered, we’re planning on staying in the tunnels. Keeps us close to the Institute, keeps us a bit more hidden, and puts us in a position to handle things as they come up.”

Tim nods. “Right, fine, but you may have forgotten the small detail that they’re probably a crime scene right now. I mean, we found the shot-up body of a woman who’s been missing for the better part of a year down there, and you know the police are going to be all through there, failing to find evidence of who shot her. If we’re not able to get in to work, you’re not going to be able to get down there to hide out. You should at least stay here until it’s clear.” And then I’ll figure out an excuse to keep you here a bit longer, he adds mentally. He knows it’s not his fault that his counterpart in their timeline was an asshole, and he knows he can’t exactly make up for that, but he’s going to try anyway.

He’s not sure why the sudden, intense need to protect everyone. Maybe it’s knowing that the—the thing that took Danny from him is still out there (he’s not stupid; even though they didn’t say as much, he knows that the Unknowing and Danny’s death are connected) and that it’s not the only one of its kind. Maybe it’s that he’s more shaken than he wants to admit at the close call they had with losing Martin. Maybe it’s just hearing everything the Primes went through and knowing he’s powerless to fix it, but desperate to do anything he can to prevent it for his Martin and Jon. And, well, if he can give the Primes a bit of comfort in the meantime, that’s no small feat.

Jon Prime looks startled. “We—Tim, it’s not safe. Even if Jonah can’t see us, there’s no guarantee anything else…God knows I attract enough attention under ordinary circumstances. It’s a miracle I got this far without incident. W-we can’t put you all in danger like that.”

“Not like we’ll be any safer if it’s just us,” Tim points out. “At least if you’re here, we can all keep an eye on each other.”

“You said that us both being in the same room would…muddle things, make it more difficult for Elias,” Jon says. “At least until I can…get a handle on all this. I—anything you can teach me to keep them safe.”

“I think we’re outnumbered, Jon,” Martin Prime says with a soft smile.

Jon Prime looks at him, then sighs, nods, and turns back to Tim. “All right. But only until it’s safe for us to move into the tunnels.”

Tim grins, relieved for reasons he chooses not to examine. “Great. Now then. Who’s up for lunch?”

[universal-kitty]

.: Drama Involving AJ :.

   Stylized ‘til I die, I guess. Anyways.

   This is talking about phasefuck/huckerbee/teafrogs/whatever their URL is this week. AJ/Lee. The compilation of what’s happened involving them.

   So... Starting at the beginning.

   D was the reason I got into Borderlands. I watched her play TFTBL and gush about Rhys and get more involved and understand the ship she had! Also got my first crush on Zer0, but... Y’know.

   So I did some art, started plotting ideas for who’d eventually be Gremlin- aka Rena Marlow, my SI for BLands- and that led...to us meeting AJ. They wanted me or D to join their server. D preferred because of her self-ship with Rhys, but I could join, too. D was nervous about new, strange people and I wanted to learn more about Borderlands and try new things, so... I hopped in, D stayed behind.

   The time with them was pretty fun! Ended up making some friends, plotted fun ideas for AJ’s idea of the time, Borderlands Infinite. A continuation of Tales as AJ saw it. The server was made PRIMARILY for this endeavor and everyone in it was allowed an OC or self-insert to be paired with whoever they wanted to be with....long as they were open, that is. AJ had HJack, and everyone else... Well, most of the spares had been paired off by the time I joined.

   Rhys was potentially still open, cause someone AJ had previously been talking with...either wasn’t responding, or had dropped out entirely. I forget by this point. Zer0 wasn’t an option and I didn’t know much of the others, so.... I accepted Gremlin to be paired with Rhys.

   Thus the origins of my verse with Rhys. (As well as the OT3 with him and Vaughn... They started here.)

   Tension was pretty high in the group and- though I didn’t acknowledge it at the time- it was primarily from AJ. Nobody else could like Handsome Jack “too much”... You could be playful about him, a little joke-flirty...but if you were suspected to like HJack, then you were “stealing” him from them. Because of this- while the group was friendly enough- it was hard to get into the “share faves” vibe that a lot of us seemed to have; gushing about a character that wasn’t your own just......felt weird.

   Not sure if anyone else noticed, but that was my experience.

   Anyways, I helped AJ with their story a lot due to being online a ton, with no work to do. We talked on the daily about what Rena could do, what Helios was like, how the story would go... The long-term slowburn we were putting Rena and Rhys through. I praised their art and ideas, they cheered for Rena/Rhys. It was pretty mutually supportive....

   ...Until AJ kicked fits. I was always online, so what about everyone else?? When I wasn’t online- sometimes if I was- I’d get put on a pedestal for helping out while others said nothing. (Essentially saying something like “Aki helps out all the time, but nobody else does” or, the popular one, “maybe I should just delete this since nobody cares.” I don’t have screenshots of this for reasons that’ll be explained in a moment.)

   We typically talked them out of these, but eventually... It did happen. AJ messaged me that the old group had been deleted and there was now a new group of only the ACTIVE people. This left me and a few others, thought some other people would eventually cycle in. (One of which still being someone I look up to even today!! Even if we don’t talk much, lol.)

   I got more creative freedom during this time, since other people “lost out” in their spots and... Somehow, this led to me taking on Nisha, too. I paired her with my OCs, Pyrotech and Meowzer. (Ex-Creepypasta OCs revamped for BLands. Is this my origins for my Nisha ship? Kinda!!!)

   But by this point... I had grown to *really* like HJack. I’d made a slip before (more on that later), but learned his character very well and even played him for roleplays AJ and I were doing. AJ played themself and Rhys; I controlled Jack and Rena. All that research led to feelings....and ones I knew AJ wouldn’t approve of. So I did two things, right off the bat: kept my head down and immediately worked on justifying why I liked him. See, it’s because...it’s not the “canon” Handsome Jack!! The one I ship with has golden clasps! So they’re not the same!! And uhhhh....more bad things happened to him? He dresses more lavishly...?

   I kept trying to come up with ways AJ might approve of my AU Jack without invoking their wrath. Not that...it would end up doing much, in the long run.

   I invited one of my friends to join during this. One who also liked HJack...and proved my worries right. (Checked my Discord; I still have some of the messages!!! Whoop, here we go...)

   Don’t have screencaps of the drama that proceeded to unfold- especially due to AJ blocking me on Discord and so losing all of our conversation- but.... That’s just how THAT is, I guess.

   They did get super cold after and I had to explain things to my friend, while also assuring AJ that I would handle things and it’d be alright. It was an uncomfortable hiccup, but one that went by easily enough...

   Though as I said, it was a significant event to show me how careful I needed to be when it came to HJack and AJ.

   Also during this time... Another friend I’ll just refer to as P. We’d also been roleplaying in this time and having a blast. Absolute joy and- we don’t talk much anymore- but I do still consider them a dear friend. I played as CEO Rhys for them and they were Handsome Jack for me; we played our characters (my SI, their OC) and just... Had so much fun with it all.

   So then... Amidst all the fun, it eventually happened.

   What I described in this callout post.

   AJ and I...we ended up dating at some point. I thought they were cool, we got along well, talked a LOT and all this... So I didn’t see a problem with it. Why not? I’ll get to have an awesome artist S/O with their cool ship and all their ideas... We’re gonna be unstoppable!

   ...But I also had abandonment issues. Too many times did I pour my all into someone, only to be left empty. I’ve always been the most supportive person in a room, trying to uplift EVERYONE to feel good! Cause yeah, everyone deserves that! AJ knew this. We’d talked about our issues and vented.....

   And they still did that.    They left my server as I slept. Blocked me on Discord, though I didn’t notice it at first.

   ...It was the one day I checked Tumblr first. They left their blog for a new one. Okay!! I’ll follow them on there, then! I did, and checked Discord. That was in the vent channel, and this was sent to me by a mutual friend.

   So that’s how I woke up that day. Suddenly alone and single. And very, very depressed. I would end up posting these as my friends had to help me down:

“ ……now I wish I would’ve gotten lost after all or kept sleeping ….nothing is work being awake right now”

“ I just don’t want to exist I hate myself all over again I can’t get past that”

“ AJ just…..dropped me. Just like that. I didn’t know and tried to follow her new blog….. Either they just soft-blocked me or outright blocked me

“I feel so fuckin’ horrible”

   At the time, I was horribly depressed due to outside causes. I was suicidal at the time and getting into some light, risky behavior in hopes it could be a factor in the end of my life. (I would walk around at night, hoping that the growing heat would either cause heat exhaustion or someone would attack me. Abduct me. Whatever meant that I would be gone and in pain.)

   I later learned that this is actually learned behavior; my dad would react in extremist ways to things (something broke? “I want to kill myself.”) and so I probably learned it from him. This has actually made managing my suicidal thoughts easier, but at the time, I did not know this and put me more at risk.

   Though this then kept continuing.... Because of course these things do.

   It starts all over with me trying to move on. Someone was advertising their self-ship server, I wanted to try again and make friends... So I gave it a shot and joined!

   ....AJ was in there.

   I quickly left as soon as I had entered, telling the owner I couldn’t stay due to troubles with someone else in there. They were understanding and, thankfully, that was that.

   ...But it STILL wasn’t. These are older messages, so I can’t get them together as much as I’d like to (in one screenshot, is what I’m saying) so I’ll also quote these, but if anyone needs screenshot proof, I can get that on request.

   Anyways, our mutual friend (I’ll nickname her MF for “mutual friend” lol) later piped up with this:

05/19/2018 “So, aj invited me to a group chat and I'm a pushover who hasn't been able to cut them off yet so I said yes and boi I'm big uncomfortable now Like I thought I could maybe juggle being friends with both aj and Rachel even after what aj did but I was wrong.

“But idk what do now. I don't know what to say to them because I don't want to just drop them without saying anything. No doubt that'll get them talking about me behind my back”

.:.

“I might try that. I might mute the server so that I don't have to deal with that because i can't stay in it but I don't want to start shit by leaving I mean they are acting like Rachel is in the wrong”

.:.

“That they "stole their f/o" and that they are going to take the dragon idea that Rachel had for blands and "make it better" out of spite And I'm not happy”

.:.

“Well I just typed up a long message and while I'm glad I'll finally cut out a toxic person I'm also super nervous

“I sent it and left the server

“Wow okay all I got was a "Bye then" I sent a long ass message. Explaining my side and why. Hoping they'd understand and they just said bye then??????”

   As you can see.... Everyone who’d been in that server (me, P, and MF) were on-edge about the “talking behind our back” issue that MF confirmed above. I figured it would happen, but it did...and that was a league all it’s own. (Especially when the callout post went around, and it got confirmed AGAIN that slander in my name was still going around.)

   But one more thing happened that triggered this onslaught... Remember my RP w/ P? Well, this happened.... [TW for daddy kink mention? Calling themself Daddy?? That thing.]

   Link to Ask.

   Was never reblogged. Sent to me by a friend. To my knowledge, nobody spread this around AT ALL. But this was brought up in the same vent/time period as the above conversation.....

MF: Aj said that Rachel stole hj from them.

Me: Me, apparently. It's somewhere between that post and the ask (I think?) P sent me..... Which I loved and was hella surprised over, but. Oh boy.

Fren (aka owner of Karma): My god wtf can she like calm tf down

MF: They actually were mad that people were reblogging a post of yours, probably the kitten thing, that was about hj because it's "gross"

Fren: geeze Aj grow up

Me: ??????? Nobody reblogged it, tho

MF: Hmmmmm they vagued about someone shipping with him, someone they had blocked, that liked the daddy kink and stuff

   I mean. I get it’s a gross thing for people, but.... HJack has also called himself “daddy/papa” on more than one occasion. It’s up for debate if he does it because he is Literal Dad or because he’s that nasty, but... Considering everything else he does, the latter seems the most obvious. That’s just how he is.

   Anyways. The point being that we had each other mutually blocked by this point. I had people either block me, soft-block me, OR just outright unfollow + soft-block me because they were more trusting of AJ than of me. So to hear that they somehow knew P was sending me that ask...... Either someone TOLD them or they were stalking my blog to see what I was doing while they were gone.

   Either way, not great. (What was pretty funny is I later made a joke about “stealing the rights to Handsome Jack from 2k so nobody else can do anything with him” and that “I’m a wanted man”... That’s nice.)

   And so... We get to more recently.

   Last I personally heard, I had to do some personal checking that led up to this... Saw leeships in self insert tag. New self-ship blog, so I blocked, as well as checking their blocked main to make sure everything lined up....and was greeted with this.

   They’ve since changed their URL- again- but the fact they’re STILL being petty towards D is just....something else.

   Speaking of, I’m not actually...sure where that started. There was a whole conversation we had over how AJ treated D out of sight of others (they talked over IMs, I guess because we were budding friends at the time, and what else do I do but hype up all my friends?) There was a lot of attention-seeking behavior from AJ (showing their art and then getting mad when D or Fren tried to compliment them for “lying” about the compliment...?), but far as I knew/remember, there wasn’t any bigger issue.

   ...After we broke up, however, an issue began as D and I became better friends. Friends stick with friends, D knew AJ, so when the blocking-bug was going around, D blocked them, too.

   Which eventually snowballed into the bullshit you can still see today. With AJ trying to claim that D is the one dealing out harassment when- at worst- maybe D did talk too much and AJ didn’t deal with it in a healthy way. (Because that is an issue I’ve heard of; except AJ freaked out over it, instead of talking it out like a healthy adult and figuring out how they could balance out the conversation. Seriously. I’ve had this talk with D. We don’t dominate our conversations at all; nobody over the other. If there ever was a problem, then literally just saying “Hey, I don’t feel heard/listened to when I talk about my ship” was all AJ ever needed to say, but....... Y’KNOW.)

   I’m not D, so I can’t say the full scenario of that, but this is the best way I can show there was a middle ground AJ could’ve used to work things out, but they didn’t.

   Oh, and just so I’m not saying things if you haven’t already seen this... Here’s a screenshot someone (for privacy’s sake) got of AJ trying to pin the blame on D for being the “real harasser” in their BYF:

   We all just wanted to get over this. However, D and I especially don’t want to get involved with or be AROUND AJ/Lee in any way. So we keep an eye on what they do so we can feel safe. We DON’T want to forgive AJ/Lee (for obvious reasons), so we keep blocking their accounts and/or make sure they’re still on our blocklist.

   I know I’ve resorted to putting their URLs on BLACKLIST to make sure I don’t see them at ALL because of how much stress they put me under just seeing them around.

   What the hell do THEY have to be stressed about? Dealing with people they hurt for BEING hurt and not wanting them around us anymore?? Fuck....

.:.

    Anyways. I guess that about concludes all I wanted to write about. Friendly reminder that their old callout post is here and while I doubt a new one will crop up any time soon (as I sure don’t want to write one that’ll get around, after the last time I had a friend try to help me do a callout post on someone like this), you can at least look up that one more time after reading this.

   So...... That’s the end. Thanks for reading this and I’m sorry if anything was upsetting.

   ...If you want, you can come to the ask box and ask for a gif of your F/O? Or a cute puppy or kitten? Maybe I can find some nice fanart for you as comfort...? IDK, options.

[mainaisikyunnhoon-blog]

a life of danger

haHA idk what this is guys but. i was too impatient to actually write the whole thing before posting so!!! here have a snippet of some jungkook-the-agent and jin-his-handler fic

rated t for ‘totally rad’ and the genre is honestly just ‘jin and jungkook bantering to express their love’ (w Feelings to come in later installments) 

title is (of COURSE) from ‘secret agent man’ 

i’m not a secret agent so uhhh none of this is even remotely realistic i’m invoking artistic license here 

One of the first things you learn at the academy is how to tune out distractions.

There’s always too much going on in the world, which is why the ability to take it all in, pick out all the relevant information, and tune out everything else is so important. Distraction at the wrong time — focusing on something stupid rather than what you should be focusing on — can, and has, led to death. All good operatives practice doing this until it’s ingrained.

Jungkook’s a good operative. A fantastic one. One of the best, even, and that isn’t arrogance, it’s just the truth.

There’s one thing, however, that all his training, all his instincts, all his will can never tune out:

“You know, you need to go out more often,” Jin says through the earpiece. “It’s unhealthy, the way you refuse to socialize with anyone.”

“You know what else is unhealthy?” Jungkook says, voice a hush as he continues trying to crack the safe. Safe-cracking isn’t his expertise — those are more long the lines of get in, kick ass, get out — so frustration’s welling within him as it takes longer than he wants, and Jin isn’t helping. “Your obsession with me. Why are you even keeping track of my socializing habits?”

“First of all,” Jin starts, and there’s so much indignation in his voice, Jungkook’s lips twitch as he thinks about the way Jin’s probably gesticulating, the expression he’s wearing as he talks to a set of computers in a dark room with no one around, “I’m not obsessed with you, and honestly, if you think this is obsession, says more about you than it does about me. Second of all, I know about your socialization habits because gossip is currency and secret agents are even better at it than the old woman that used to live across the street when I was growing up, so I don’t go looking for this information, it just appears in my lap.”

“Just appears in your lap.” Imagining Jin’s face as Jungkook scoffs — Jin hates being scoffed at; this is why Jungkook makes sure to do it as often as possible — makes the smirk grow on his face, and he adds for the finishing touch: “Is that the defense you use when accused of anything? ‘No, no, sir, I wasn’t bothering this woman, she just appeared in my lap.’”

Seconds go by as Jin makes incoherent, outraged sounds. “I know how to respect women! I’m not a disrespectful, rude brat like you! I have never had a complaint, thank you very much, and never will, because I’m capable of interacting with normal people like a normal person, not like an emotionally constipated — constipated asshole.”

“You? Normal?” This time, scoffing is even easier. “Right, of course.”

Mission accomplished — Jin is now ranting about Respecting your elders and Learning some manners and Not being a mouthy smartass — Jungkook has an easier time focusing, Jin’s voice washing over him, bringing familiar words with it, and it isn’t too long before he finally cracks the safe.

Showy celebrations are amateur, so all he allows himself is a small, “Nice,” nodding in satisfaction as he reaches in to grab the paper documents, the content of which he was told he ‘didn’t need to know.’ The urge to look is hard to resist, but he shuts the safe and slips the documents into his pocket, straightening out his suit jacket and running a hand through his hair, checking his reflection out in the window to make sure he looks good.

As always, he does.

Most of the building is glass — he hates it, hates feeling so exposed, hates the bullshit bougie modern art concept it’s designed on — which means the walls serve as one giant window; as soon as he leaves the room with the safe, he’s assaulted by sunlight and he wrinkles up his nose, says, “Too bright.”

“Yes, sunlight is bright. Maybe you’ll finally grow old enough to develop object permanence and retain this information.”

“Sunlight isn’t an object,” Jungkook says, “so what does object permanence have to do with anything?”

There’s silence for a beat. “You know what,” Jin says, and then stops.

“Yes, I know ‘what’ — it’s a word often used to ask about information.” The building’s a maze of hallways, as if M.C. Escher himself designed it, and then Jungkook realizes he just thought about M.C. Escher outside of an art history class and resolves to spend less time with Tae.

“Actually,” Jin says, “ ‘what’ has sixteen different definitions, and you only gave me one, which means you don’t know what.” The best part of it is, he sounds smug.

“Did… did you seriously look up ‘what’ in the dictionary,” Jungkook says, offering a polite nod to the woman who passes him by in the hallway, looking him up and down.

“Yes,” Jin says, “and I don’t see why you’re asking me as if I’ve done something ridiculous.”

“You are ridiculous. Everything you do is ridiculous, because you are ridiculous,” Jungkook says, taking the stairs down. The interview he’s here for is on the third floor; he only has five minutes to make it down from the fourteenth, so he sprints, footsteps echoing in the stairwell.

“No, I’m Jin.” A beat passes as Jungkook sighs, and Jin starts laughing.

A cackling Jin in his ear isn’t the most conducive to a professional interview, so he says, “Stop laughing or I’m gonna have to cut the line,” and steps out of the staircase, discreetly slipping the documents into the recycling bin where someone will come to collect them.

“Don’t you fucking dare cut the line. I will surgically sew an earpiece to your ear if you try to do that again,” Jin says as Jungkook smiles at the lady at the front desk, excuses about how he got lost and how confusing the building is pouring out of his mouth, and the lady — Jan, her nametag reads — waves them all away.

“Don’t worry! You’re just in time, please have a seat as I inform them you’ve arrived,” she says, chipper, and Jungkook nods at her.

Taking a seat in the corner chair, Jungkook covers his mouth, whispers, “Then stop talking, and I won’t cut the line. Also, we’re sure I have to actually go through with the interview?” It isn’t that he’s nervous or anything — he just knows he’s completely out of his depth here, knows he’s going to bomb it because he doesn’t really know enough to convincingly bullshit, and he hates feeling incompetent, even if it doesn’t really matter.

Silence.

“Jin.”

More silence.

“Jin, answer.”

“Oh, you want me to answer?” Jin says, voice dripping with mock surprise. “But you said stop talking.”

“Jin.” If he’s whining a little bit, well, it’s justified.

“Yes,” Jin says, “we’re sure, because if anyone happens to find out today was the day the documents were taken, an interviewee disappearing after ‘getting lost’ would be suspicious.”

“That’s crossed paranoid and landed straight into conspiracy theory territory.”

A pause, and they both sigh, “Namjoon.”

“If he wasn’t such a good person, I’d hate him,” Jin says, and Jungkook makes a small hum of agreement, eyes scanning the room. The lady reappears, then, followed by a man in an expensive-looking suit and an I’m more important than you vibe, and Jungkook smiles, stands, holds out his hand.

The customary greetings are exchanged, and before Jungkook’s led into the back, Jin says, “You’re probably going to make a fool of yourself, but remember — you don’t actually have to do good, you can just bullshit and fail.”

Since Jungkook’s still talking to the man, nodding along with what he says, he can only grit his teeth at Jin’s words. A couple moments later, Jin says in a high-pitched voice: “Wow, Jin, you’re so smart and encouraging! I wouldn’t be able to tie my shoelaces without your guidance.” A pause. “That was you, by the way.”

“Yes, Jungkook, I am smart and encouraging and you would fail at life if not for my generous guidance,” Jin continues, deepening his voice enough Jungkook has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing. “I’m also handsome and hilarious and cooler than you’ll ever be.”

“Oh, Jin, you’re so right! As always! I promise to listen to you more often and give you the respect you deserve.” Jin’s Jungkook impersonation has Jungkook biting down harder, hoping he can pass off the smile threatening to break out on his face as excitement for the job.

“Ah, and here we are,” the man says, flashing Jungkook an insincere smile as he opens the door to a conference room.

There are two men, one woman seated at the table, all looking at Jungkook as if he just burst in wearing a clown suit and honking a horn. Anxiety buzzes under his skin, no matter how hard he tries to ignore it — he fucking hates feeling stupid, especially in front of assholes.

“Alright, brat. Remember you can kill all of the people in the room within a matter of minutes if they start laughing at you, and maybe take this opportunity to fuck with them instead of actually trying.”

Jungkook wants to say thanks — a sarcastic thanks, even if he means it sincerely — but instead he takes a deep breath, breaks out his most charming smile, and introduces himself.

Jin knows how Jungkook feels, anyway; he doesn’t need to say it aloud. It’s why they work so well together.

i’ve never actually written jungkook and he's kind of the member i’ve thought about the least?? idk how i feel about his characterization but. he’s a fun character to explore let’s see where this leads 

anyway thanks for reading!!! pls lmk what you thought 

[dustedmagazine]

Dust, Volume 7, Number 6

Shannon McNally

We’re halfway through the year now and, aside from a disconcerting proliferation of double albums, things seem to be returning to normal. Some of us have been to in-person concerts. Most of us are at least thinking about it. After all, things seem pretty safe now, and if 2020 taught us anything, it was do it now, or you may not be able to later. But meanwhile, the flood of new music continues, from wild free improvisers and mind-turning droners, from doom-death metal outfits and gritty country singers and the assortment of hard to classify experimenters. We knock off another batch of worthy recordings in this mid-year Dust with contributors including Bill Meyer, Bryon Hayes, Jonathan Shaw, Andrew Forell, Tim Clarke, Justin Cober-Lake, Chris Liberato and Jennifer Kelly.

Alberto Braida / Giancarlo Nino Locatelli — From Here From There (We Insist!)

from here from there by alberto braida, giancarlo nino locatelli

Pianist Alberto Braida and clarinetist Giancarlo Nino Locatelli have been performing, sometimes as a duo and sometimes with additional associates, for 25 years. And while their partners have included such uncompromising figures as Gino Robair and Peter Kowald, in spirit they’re closer to Steve Lacy and Mal Waldron. It’s not so much the straight horn and piano parallels as the deep jazz roots spiked with studiously applied dissonance, all shared with a congeniality that clues you in to the fact that you’re listening in on a friendship that runs quite deep, and no matter how deep it goes, the warmth persists. This performance was recorded in Lodi, Italy in 2012, and one suspects that the record might still be on a hard drive in someone’s back shelf if the lockdown hadn’t landed when it did. After all, why spend your time editing and mixing when you could book a gig and have another tete-a-tete as rewarding as this? 

Bill Meyer

 Chora(s)san Time-Court Mirage — Blues Alif Lam Mim (Blank Forms Editions)

Blues Alif Lam Mim by Chora(s)san Time-Court Mirage

This is the fourth emanation from Blank Forms Editions of Catherine Christer Hennix’s music, and it mines a vein that is more contemporary than past releases, which focused on archival recordings from the 1970s. Presented on vinyl for the first time, this pair of platters reveals the inaugural 2014 performance of the Hennix composition “Blues Alif Lam Mim in the Mode of Rag Infinity/Rag Cosmosis.” With this piece, the Swedish musician and composer sought to locate the origins of the blues in the musical traditions of Indian raga and Turkish makam. It was performed by her ensemble Chora(s)san Time-Court Mirage, which included live electronics, a brass section, and multiple vocalists singing a hymn written by Hennix in Arabic, praising Allah. The music unfolds similarly to how multiple wafts of smoke eventually fill a room. Many simultaneous tonal colors combine into a multi-dimensional sonic organism, becoming a voluminous drone. It feels as if the infinite frequencies and timbres of the universe are weaving themselves together. This immensity causes the listener to become entrained within the sound itself, feeling like part of the proceedings. The vocals add additional hallucinatory sensations to the already vortex-like drone cloud. Getting lost in these sounds is easy, such that when they disappear at the end of each side of vinyl, the sudden shift back to reality is jarring. 

Bryon Hayes 

 Coffin Lurker — Foul and Defiled (Sentient Ruin Laboratories)

Foul and Defiled by Coffin Lurker

The title pretty much says it all, but just to be clear: If the words “filthy,” “cavernous” and “suffocating” are meaningful to you in relation to death doom, then you’ll know what you’re in for. And even if they aren’t, and hence you don’t, spend a few seconds considering the terms’ semantic baggage and you’ll be at least halfway there. Where? Somewhere chin-deep in a moist hole in the ground. Do you really want to dig these sounds, to unearth them from their tomb? Should you? Does the prospect of moping with a vague sense of menace in your local boneyard’s fetid shadows hold any appeal? If not, why the heck are you still reading this? For those of you still slogging along (or sliming or sleazing — Coffin Lurker is a death-doom outfit, out on the grosser, grimier end of that spectrum), the players involved might further pique your interest: Rene Aquarius is one half of Cryptae, whose Nightmare Traversal was one of the most interesting death metal records released last year, and Maurice De Jong hopefully doesn’t need any contextualizing introduction. The combination of the men’s sensibilities is quite effective, and perverse as it may sound, all the unhappy gruesomeness ends up constructing a really good record. Songs like “Crypt within a Crypt” and “Cadaverous Odor” sound massive and simultaneously oddly muffled, as if all their weighty, woeful noises were attempting to rumble and blast their way out of a sarcophagus, up through rock and clay and beyond the grave. That may be the idea — but songs this doom- and deathstruck might be better off following the hopeless endeavor suggested by the band’s name. Dig it, dig down, dig in.

Jonathan Shaw

 Emily Duff — Razor Blade Smile (Mr Mudshow Music)

Emily Duff brings a healthy dose of New York grit and attitude to the ten tracks of classic country rock on her latest album Razor Blade Smile. Duff has a raspy lived-in voice that calls to mind Bonnie Raitt and particularly Maria McKee as she inhabits songs of loves troubled and true. The twang is there but never overplayed and her lyrics play with the tropes without resorting to cliché. She is well-served by her band, especially keyboard/accordion player Charlie Giordani who adds Garth Hudson like flourishes to tracks like “Done And Done” and “Feelin Alright.” Duff’s songs are hooky, toughly defiant and tenderly bruised odes to longing and survival. While Razor Blade Smile doesn’t reinvent the wheel, it is the work of a gifted songwriter backed by a very good band. It’s an excursion with much to enjoy. 

Andrew Forell

 Paul Dunmall & Mark Sanders — Unity (577 Records)

Unity by Paul Dunmall and Mark Sanders

Unity may bear only half of the name of Albert Ayler’s E.S.P. debut, but it’s by no means music of half measures. Paul Dunmall hoists three horns from his big bag o’ saxophones and plays each with equal measures of grace and muscularity; Mark Sanders balances his partner’s sonic heft with drumming that makes a virtue of airiness. These two English musicians have played and recorded together many times, including on the little big band records Dunmall made for Cuneiform a dozen or so years ago, but they’ve never waxed a duo. It’s probably a good thing that they waited, because younger, less confident musicians might not have been so willing to let their singing and swinging be complemented by so much blank space. As it is, Dunmall’s calory-rich tone and each man’s fluent management of undulating sound shapes say all that needs to be said. 

Bill Meyer 

 EXEK — Good Thing They Ripped Up The Carpet (Lulu’s Sonic Disc Club)

Effectively melding and updating sounds from late 1970’s inner Melbourne, EXEK’s new album is a terrific blend of spacious, snarky electronic post-punk that mixes the cerebral jazz funk experiments of Clifton Hill bands like Asphyxiation and Equal Local with the more anarchic sounds of Little Band Scene stalwarts Whirlyworld and The Primitive Calculators. Good Thing They Ripped Up The Carpet runs on dubby bass, bleepy synths, flashes of sax and guitar, fractal drumming and leader Albert Wolski’s sardonic half-sung, half-spoken lyrics, all disaffected put-downs and dismissive observations of lives lived by remove. There are echoes of better-known bands — Cabaret Voltaire, The Pop Group, Tuxedomoon — but this is a record steeped in the eclectic dissident spirit of Melbourne’s avant underground. Well worth your time and if it leads you to explore some of EXEK’s progenitors even better. 

Andrew Forell 

 Exhumation — Exhumation – Opus Death (Transylvanian Recordings)

EXHUMATION - OPUS DEATH by EXHUMATION

Indonesia’s punk and metal scenes can appear endless: so many tapes, so many records, so many bands. That’s not surprising, given how endless Indonesia itself seems: so many islands, so many cultures, so many languages. It can all be a bit daunting — where to start? This reissue of Exhumation’s 2014 Exhumation – Opus Death, originally released as a small-batch cassette by Morbid Bastard Records, may be as good a place as any to locate some listening. Exhumation refuses, with an unyielding attraction to the atavistic, to move on from the sounds of mid-1980s. The band’s musical touchstones are pretty apparent, especially early death metal records like Macabre’s Grim Reality (1987) and especially Possessed’s Beyond the Gates (1986); Exhumation’s extended piano interlude “The Sleeping Darkness” even sounds like a lo-tech tribute to the bombastic synth “Intro” to that crucial Possessed record. Old school stuff, indeed. But Exumation’s music also feels sort of timely: while the death metal vibe runs deep, there are also blackened edges, a punk production sensibility and thrashy riffs that respond to our current moment of endless sub-sub-subgenres and cross-pollinations. That last metaphor might be the wrong figure to invoke in relation to a tape that includes tunes like “Labyrinth of Fire” and “Death Dealer”; life-sustaining biological processes are less important to Exhumation than soul-destroying sonic violence. “Opus Death,” indeed.  

Jonathan Shaw  

 Flanafi with Ape School — The Knees Start to Go (Boiled)  

The Knees Start To Go by Flanafi with Ape School

Flanafi is the musical moniker of Philadelphia’s Simon Martinez. On this new collaboration with Ape School (Martinez’s former university tutor, Michael Johnson), there’s a decidedly hazy, whirlpooling quality to the songs, as hushed vocals turn circles offer muffled beat-work, pitch-shifted guitars and washes of keys. Though the ingredients suggest they might melt into the background, the way they’ve been treated brings them to the foreground to jostle and tumble amiably. One of the songs is called “Birds Toss and Turn in Their Sleep,” which is an apt image for the atmosphere created: small and appealing creatures dreaming fitfully. At its simplest, such as the nylon-string guitar and vocals of the lovely, meandering “Habra,” it could almost be a soft-focus singer-songwriter record. Elsewhere it feels like Boards of Canada have had most of their high-end gear stolen and are woodshedding with what’s left. Though these 36 minutes pass by easily, while the album’s on it’s like being gently massaged while wearing a well-worn jumper: warm and fuzzy, mostly lovely and comfortable, but also, at times, a little itchy.  

Tim Clarke

 Paul Haslinger — Exit Ghosts II (Artificial Instincts)  

Austrian composer and former Tangerine Dream member Paul Haslinger follows up 2020’s Exit Ghost with another collection of piano-based compositions augmented with strings and occasional electronic touches. While it pushes no boundaries, this is a quite lovely collection of short pieces that radiate cautious optimism and hope for better days after long months of darkness and fear. Haslinger moves easily from the Phillip Glass-like chordal progressions of “Cambium” to the kaleidoscopic string arrangements on “Meristematic.” His music is stately, considered and calm. Elsewhere he references the beguiling simplicity and unselfconscious eccentricity of Satie, as well as literary figures like Dostoyevsky’s impossibly selfless hero Prince Myshkin and Goethe’s lovelorn Werther as he explores reactions to isolation and trepidation about the new social realities. Exit Ghost II offers consolation and prompts questions: “Who were we?” “Who are we now?” “Who do we want to be?” The latter is as vital as the former, the answers perhaps more so. 

Andrew Forell  

 Intersystems — #4 (Waveshaper Media)

#4 by Intersystems

The Toronto-based multimedia art experience called Intersystems rubbed elbows with many counter-cultural figures during its brief existence in the late 1960s, but never did get much renown during the Flower Power era or afterward. It wasn’t until 2015 when Alga Marghen reissued the three LPs that comprise the totality of the group’s recorded output that many heads became attuned to their consciousness-altering sight and sound productions. The quartet combined poetry with elaborate stage setups and exploratory electronic sound into what they referred to as “presentations,” which must have been amazing to experience first-hand, but are just as intriguing when absorbed via the eardrums. In the decades since, musician John Mills-Cockell has enjoyed moderate success in Canada, and poet Blake Parker passed away. Artist Michael Hayden and Mills-Cockell have reignited the flame, creating new material which is captured in this recording. Dik Zander, who rounded out the original quartet, was not involved. Parker appears as a spectre, his poetry delivered by a computer programmed to utter language in a variety of eerie vocal temperaments. Coupled with Mills-Cockell’s brooding synthesizer soundscapes, #4 continues the pattern that the first three LPs established back in the 1960s. If you were into the pan-generational experiments that William S. Burroughs was doing near the end of his life, this record will certainly appeal. 

Bryon Hayes

 Charmaine Lee / Zach Rowden — Butterfly Knife (Notice)

Butterfly Knife by Charmaine Lee and Zach Rowden

For music on the cutting edge, this stuff sounds quite antique and better for it. Vocalist Charmaine Lee’s electronics tend towards sounds people once wished their CB radios would not make when they aren’t nicking tonalities from the songs insects sing on overheated summer afternoons, and her mouth sounds are resolutely pre-linguistic. If no one told you he plays double bass, you might wonder how Zach Rowden got away with slapping so many contact mics onto a functional galleon’s rigging. But their interactions are undeniably in tune, albeit in a manner closer to the gravitational push and pull of cosmic bodies than the to and fro of the well-schooled improvising musicians they happen to be. Sometimes you want music to stir your feelings; this is for when you want the music to feel like something.

Bill Meyer

 Magic Tuber Stringband — When Sorrows Encompass Me ‘Round (Feeding Tube)

When Sorrows Encompass Me 'Round by Magic Tuber Stringband

Magic Tuber Stringband is a pair of fresh-faced North Carolinians who share a birth month, if not year, with Tony Conrad, John Cale and Angus MacLise. Since the stars are not to be denied, they’ll pour more than a couple fingers of raw drone into your glass. But since they’re also true to the earth, they churn up enough happy hoofing cadences to make you salt the ground with your sweat. It’s tempting to compare guitarist/banjoist Evan Morgan and fiddler Courtney Werner to the Black Twig Pickers, but they seem less concerned with receiving and re-projecting the elders’ wisdom into ongoing decades than they are with the practical application of this music to keep one’s joints loose. So set your tape player on repeat and proceed to trample the ground.

Bill Meyer

Magda Mayas’ Filamental — Confluence (Relative Pitch)

Confluence by Magda Mayas' Filamental

Concept dictates content on this concert recording. Pianist Magda Mayas has long aspired to assemble a string ensemble of size. When the Music Unlimited Festival in Austria gave her the chance, she chose the geographic circumstances of another Alpine burg to guide the paired cellos, reeds, harps and single violin that accompanied her prepared piano. She used a series of photos of the confluence of the Rhône and Arve rivers in Geneva, Switzerland as a score that proposed degrees of resistance and surrender to the inevitable convergence of their flows. Sighing harmonics, agitated whorls and drizzling metallic tones swirl and splash, forming vectors that arc around each other and never completely combine. This music rewards the active spotting of eddies and rippling currents more than the passive drifting; consider it a present to your pattern-seeking brain.

Bill Meyer     

 Shannon McNally — The Waylon Sessions (Compass)

The idea behind Shannon McNally's The Waylon Sessions makes it sound like it's an academic experiment, an exercise in recontextualization or a feminist statement. The singer-songwriter's plan to cover a record's worth of Waylon Jennings songs does, of course, do those sorts of things, and it's hard to hear the album apart from the current conversations about women in country music (particularly on the radio). Fortunately, the album does something more. McNally digs into these songs with the enthusiasm of a long-time fan and then performs them with the skill of a stellar artist. Although she gets help from guests like Buddy Miller, Rodney Crowell, and Jessi Colter (Jennings' widow, but not only that), McNally makes each of these tracks her own. If we find more nuance here and there (“a feminine perspective hidden” in the songs, according to McNally), that's a tribute to Jennings and the songwriters behind the cuts, but it's also a comment on McNally's own artistry. This album could be a statement in a variety of ways, but mostly it's just a set of great songs performed wonderfully.

Justin Cober-Lake

 nubo — Nu Vision (Western Vinyl)

Nu Vision by nubo

Japanese electronic artist Yuji Namiki, working as nubo, taps into an idealized, transcendental vibe. These compositions blend traditional Japanese percussion with serene patterns of synthesizer. “Rain Won’t” begins with sharp thwacks of percussion at odd intervals, bells, shakers, a bit of space age satori in the wandering bits of flute. “Ennichi” runs a bit faster, alluding, perhaps to the time nubo spent working on hip hop beats. It clatters and frolics with a middle eastern swerve in its whistling melody, a polyrhythmic intensity in its tonal percussion foundation. “Thinking With Your Soul” glimmers and glitters in edge-less, timeless calm, making space for meditation and wordless, still-centered calm.

Jennifer Kelly

 Rambutan — Parallel Systems (Sedimental/Tape Drift)

parallel systems by Rambutan

Eric Hardiman, who records with Michael Kiefer as Spiral Wave Nomads, spent the pandemic months soliciting original music from some 69 well-known and less well-known collaborators, then working the source material into 33 distinctive collages, collected on this two-CD set. The pieces vary a good deal, one to another, though they share a certain open-ended willingness to experiment, a disdain for the straight-jacketing qualities of structure and an appreciation of natural and found sounds. “Parallel 32,” for instance, opens with a Scottish-accented voice proclaiming, “I’m listening to the stork” and the birds’ squawks layered over striated sounds of bowed violin (Jenifer Gelineau apparently, though the cut also credits Ali Robertson, Euan Currie, Holland Hopson, Pete Fosco and, as always, Eric Hardiman.) “Parallel 3” starts with the domesticated sounds of water pouring, as Karen Schoemer, a poet who plays with Hardiman in Sky Furrows, declaims “with spineless scales/with pyramidal whorls” amid a mess of birdsong and Loren Connors-ish guitar frame (that’s Jeff Barsky from Insect Factory). Jon Collin, whose last album emphasized the sounds of water and stone, turns up for “Parallel 10,” conjuring a pastoral atmospheres out of languid guitar licks juxtaposed with the buzz and twitter of the natural world. Not all these cuts are quite so bucolic. Mike Watt makes one of two appearances in “Parallel 4,” laying down an ominous bass mutter, while electronic whistles and melodic tones grow up around this resonance. Sound artist Gayle Brogan who records as Pefkin and Glasgow experimental guitarist Andrew Paine conjure an eerie mesh of ringing tones and moody atmospherics around the steady progress of Watt’s bass. Hardiman’s Spiral Wave Nomads partner, Michael Kiefer contributes to a number of these tracks, adding surging drum rolls to the stately “Parallel 2” and thoughtful, introspective bursts of clatter to “Parallel 5,” which also features Glenn Galloway, once of Trumans Water. Elsewhere Fugazi’s Guy Piccioto, Mission of Burma’s Peter Prescott and Blues Control’s Russ Waterhouse chip in, though none of them sound much like their other projects. The point is that every track is its own world and none relate too closely to places you’ve been before. The pandemic left all kinds of artists with unexpected time on their hands, and even Hardiman might have been surprised by how many people decided to participate. At 33 tracks and two and a half hours, Parallel Systems is just too unwieldly to appreciate as a whole, but taken in small doses, bit by bit, it does the trick.

Jennifer Kelly 

 Rivet — On Feather and Wire (Editions Mego)

On Feather and Wire by Rivet

Rivet’s music vibrates with chilly intensity, edging right up to the hedonism of body-moving techno but never going over the line. “Ordine Kadmia,” for instance, rides a denatured rock and roll beat — the same boom cha boom foundation that Phil Spector used— but chilled and reserved to an extraordinary degree. Synths construct something like a syncopated guitar scramble atop it, but again, it is nothing like guitars. There is a blooping, looming keyboard melody, the notes slippery and changeable. Crank the heat up just a few degrees and you’d have a triumphant dance floor celebration, but that is not to be. A bit later, a voice declaims in clipped, echo-shrouded fragments, sputtering a harsh, consonant heavy language. That makes sense since when not recording as Rivet, Mika Hallbäck records and produces records under the Grovskopa name. He’s the head of Kess Kill, a label influenced by 1970s German new wave and post-punk. And so, while there are certainly references to punk, dance and techno in these artfully constructed rhythmic meditations, that energy has been diverted into unreal, electronic channels. When you hear a voice, as in “Pearling Woes,” it sounds like a wounded animal, wordless, moaning, penned in pixelated captivity. Not that Of Feather and Wire isn’t enjoyable. “Mag Mich” rumbles and clatters like machinery rolling downhill, a deadpan chatter narrating its progress. “Sooty Wing Flecks” hazards a wobbling treble line across rattling wireframe beats. The synth sounds gain shape and confidence as they go, now blurting like a sax, now playing tag with a reedy keyboard line. There’s something precise and contrapuntal about the way different parts move together, slipping into the chilly interstices left by the other’s silences.

Jennifer Kelly

Theodore Cale Schafer — It’s Not a Skill, It’s a Curse (Longform Editions)

It’s Not a Skill, it’s a Curse by Theodore Cale Schafer

Every month or so, Longform Editions releases a handful of pieces of music intended to be conducive to immersive listening. While what any particular listener wants to rise above their ears may vary, most LE contributions meet the criteria for ambient music. In other words, they’ll satisfyingly tinge an environment if you run them in the background, but they’ll also justify your attention if you choose to tune in. The contributors are split between people that you’re fairly likely to have heard of, and names that’ll be new to most. Detroit-based composer and musician Theodore Cale Schafer is new to this correspondent, but he sounds like a guy who has been at it long enough to have found his compass and to know where he wants it to point. “It’s Not a Skill, It’s a Curse” starts off in chamber music territory, with quicker, higher pitches sighing over a denser, unhurriedly evolving sound field. But as it progresses, one can hear voices conversing behind the strings. They never get too high in the mix, but their presence invites the listener’s ears to prick up, so that when shimmering electronics overtake the strings, you’ll be sufficiently tuned in to perceive the gently tectonic nature of their passing.

Bill Meyer

 Cicada Waves by Ben Seretan

Ben Seretan — Cicada Waves (NNA Tapes)

Cicada Waves is the sound of adaptation. While recording at an artist’s retreat in rural Georgia, with the noise of the natural world competing with the sound of the Steinway, Ben Seretan only saw one option: In classic “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em” fashion, he threw the windows open wide and let the outside in. The result is a set of sparse and tentative piano explorations that marries the approaches of the Jewelled Antler Collective and Morton Feldman. On “Cicada 1” Seretan’s playing slips softly forward through the unblazed field of sound that is the insect’s pulsing song. The album’s six other tracks — mostly named for the environmental accompaniment and time of recording — follow a similar approach, with Seretan’s musical ideas acclimating to storms of bugs and rain. By the final song, “Fog Rolls Out of Rayburn Gap,” his playing has been noticeably affected by his surroundings. When a songbird joins Seretan for a duet midway through, his phrasing mirrors the sound of the rainwater dripping, or maybe the dancing sparkle of the sun peeking out from behind the clouds post-storm. In our everyday lives, the sounds of the world around us are not always so complimentary to the task at hand, though, and in this regard Cicada Waves provides solace. Note to my neighbor: there’s a reason that none of the tracks on this album are called “Homicidal terrier mix, 7 am.” My response during little Charlotte's remarkably slow walks around the neighborhood is to pull a reverse-Seretan, shut my windows tight and turn Cicada Waves up. I’m “adapting.”

Chris Liberato 

 The Van Dammes — Finally There (Rockstar)

As of today, June 10th, Finland’s national soccer team is one day away from its first-ever appearance the European Championships. The team qualified for a berth in Euro 2020 in November of 2019, but after generations of misfires, close-calls and heartbreaking squeakers, the Finns were again delayed for a year by COVID-19. They will be playing Denmark on Saturday, and after that who knows? (Ed. Note: The Finns won a bizarre opener against Denmark, in which one of the Danes had a heart attack and nearly died, but then were eliminated in the first round.) But if you’re asking, instead, who cares, allow me to introduce you to the Van Dammes, a gleefully bare-bones garage punk band with much owed to the Ramones and a big crush on the Finnish team. The Van Dammes care so much that they have recorded a three-song EP for the occasion, which is, footy fan or no, 100% fun. Its centerpiece is “Finally There,” a blistering romp of punk pop, pummeled by drums and manic guitars and some sort of antique keyboard. The main verse insists that the band doesn’t care whether the band wins or loses, because they’re “finally there,” which is probably untrue but charming, nonetheless. Go Finland!

Jennifer Kelly

Various Artists—DJ Amir Presents Strata Records: The Sound of Detroit Volume 1 (BBE)

Strata Records only released 10 records in its 1974 to 1975 heyday, but the label, run by Kenny Cox shepherded a diverse array of jazz, funk, soul and world music artists in its brief run, defining a mid-1970s Detroit sound. The label’s archives have been in the hands of 180 Proof since DJ Amir (aka Amir Abdullah) of 180 Proof struck a deal with Cox’s widow, and over time, 180 Proof has been re-releasing Strata’s catalogue. The project got a boost in 2018 when Amir discovered a long lost recording of the Charles Mingus Quintet laid down at Strata’s Concert gallery in 1973. For this set, Amir has selected 23 tracks representing the full spectrum of Strata artists, starting with founder Kenny Cox’s infectious, Caribbean-flavored “Island Song” and running through two extraordinary selections from the Mingus concert, “Pithecanthropos Erectus,” and “Dizzy Profile.” Along the way, Strata mainstays like Detroit Artist Workshop founder Larry Nozero and Afro-Cuban organist Lyman Woodard take the spotlight, and Elvin Jones protégé Bert Myrick leads a rendition of “Scorpio’s Child” (written by Kenny Cox) that cool enough to induce shivers. It’s not all jazz either. Sam Sanders croons a quiet storm up in torch song “Face at My Window,” and a little known outfit named the Soulmates gives Curtis Mayfield a run for his money. There’s quite a lot of different music here, but it fits together remarkably well for continuous listening.

Jennifer Kelly 

 Various Artists — Pick ‘N’ Mix, Volume 1 (EEG Recordings)

Pick 'N' Mix, Volume 1 by EEG Recordings

This benefit compilation for the Climate Emergency Fund intersperses space-age guitar drones with folky meditations from mostly six-string up-and-comers of various stripes. Adeline Hotel’s “Untangling” unfurls flurries of acoustic picking while Toby Oler’s “Doubles to Dozens” (one of a couple with vocals) tips a hoedown guitar riff into dark and ominous territory. Tarotplane’s PJ Dorsey is, as always, intriguingly open-ended, his “Allowing for Space” doing that, but also bending it and time in mystic, reverberating ways. Not all the cuts are guitar-centric. Petridisch, from Boston, kicks in a blippy, twitchy, techno-operetta in “In the Red,” while the Modern Folk’s eerie, echo-shrouded, “Don’t Let My Heart Grow Cold,” gets its point across with keyboards, voice and electronic effects. Ragenap’s “A Nod Is as Good as a Wink to a Blind Horse (Long Version)” is, as the title implies, extended, but nicely conceived out of gentle guitar licks and hovering after tones. It’s a nice mix of sounds, and a bit of the entry price goes towards saving our beleaguered planet. What’s not to like?

Jennifer Kelly

 Mike Uva — Are You Dreaming? (Self-Released)

Are You Dreaming by Mike Uva

Mike Uva, long one of my favorite unjustly overlooked songwriters, spent some quarantine time with the bedroom recording set, distilling a year and a half of nothing much into sleepy, low-key pop. “I’m wandering around these halls, bouncing off the painted walls, I see Tina and she laughs at me, did you have a couple drinks or three?” asks Uva on the next-to-opening “Safety Zone,” encapsulating as well as anything a COVID year spent in sweatpants and stupor. These eight fuzzy meditations are even more homemade and loosely put together than usual, made of offhand guitars, some keyboards, a rattle of programmed and actual drums. And yet, there’s a Sebadoh-ish flare of melody in the chorus, a bit that lifts off briefly before sinking back under the surface. The title track ambles in on scratchy, waltz-time rock guitar strumming, a bemused survey of cobwebby interior landscapes. “When the day doesn’t measure to much in events, anything to remember of how it was spent, do you paint a wild painting or take to your bed?” croons Uva, and somehow the answer is both.

Jennifer Kelly

[hatsukeii]

Thanks for tag!!

Game one: shuffle playlist, first ten songs

Disclaimer: I haven’t deep cleaned my liked songs and I just shuffled that sooooo yeah there’s some like meh songs in here

1. Goodbyes- Post Malone (Verdict: absolute banger idc it’s so good)

2. I wanna be your slave- Måneskin (Verdict: is an explanation needed? Sexiest song known to man)

3. Midsummer madness- 88rising (Verdict: my Asian kings and queens I love this song)

4. MyBoi- troyboi remix- Billie Eilish (Verdict: I skip this song every time it comes on, should delete)

5. There for you- Troye Sivan, Martin Garrix (Verdict: was good while it lasted, skip)

6. High Hopes- P!ATD (Verdict: …no)

7. Don’t start now- Dua Lipa (Verdict: kinda meh, good while it lasted)

8. Old yellow bricks- Arctic Monkeys (Verdict: I love this song so much, Alex turner😫😫)

9. Say what’s on your mind- slchld (Verdict: underrated king I love him so much)

10. Supalonely- BENEE (Verdict: very nostalgic of 2020 lockdown when I was making dalgona coffee and instant noodles on a daily basis)

Game 2: 10 masterpieces of a song

Top ten!?!!?!??

10. Are you bored yet- Wallows

I don’t know this song invokes a type of emotion that I never knew I was capable of, it’s so good I have not skipped it once since I found it in February last year. Esp the slow and reverb, it’s to die for, Wallows is amazing they deserve the world

9. Slow dancing in the dark- Jojo

THIS MF SONG RIGHT HERE- it is just oh my god it’s making me malfunction it is so well made and it sounds like heartbreak and relief at the same time I love it I love it I love it AND JOJI’S VOCALS JUST- WOOOOOOOOW OK THEN LEAVE SOME FOR THE REST OF US TO SHARE

8. ハルカ- YOASOBI

Absolute banger, YOASOBI does not miss ever!! It might be one of my favourites of theirs, it’s so good, very catchy, nice tone change in the chorus, YOASOBI supremacy

7. 夜に駆ける- YOASOBI

See I said they don’t miss, I mean they don’t miss!! This one went viral and led me down a spiral and now I have their EP album sitting in my room, it’s so good like who would’ve thought a song about suicide could be THIS catchy????

6. Cry Baby- Official HIGE DANdism

Okay we’re stepping closer to endgame level stuff now, this OP SLAPS SO HARD- like the yodel??? The high notes???? The like yell????? It’s so good nothing more to say-

5. Always- Keshi

Now if you guys didn’t know, I literally love keshi to BITS- he is so talented like jfc and his music does not miss, always is my all time favourite song of his, it’s like lofi but not really, and with the addition of the guitar solo it’s just MMMMUAH

4. Drunk-Dazed- ENHYPEN

See if you asked me to pick between this and Fever I would pick this, it’s so energetic and like aggressive and I fuck w it it’s so good, makes me want to go skate down a street and kick car mirrors, and the DANCE OML I WANT TO LEARN IT BUT I HAVE NO STAMINA LOOOL

3. Deja Vu (specifically the stripped back version)- Glass Animals

This song literally resonates so much considering the signature line is “you dyed your hair blue” which was what my hair colour was a few months back in March- It’s like soft but not in the typical way you can still hear the beat and the bass but it gives like a really dreamy type vibe, 10000/10 would recommend

2. Heat Waves- Glass Animals

No brainier, this has to be on the list. ITS SO CATCHY??????? FOR WHAT?????? It’s so good and y’all’s dnf fans better not claim this song as yours or I will curb stomp all of you (only the fucking cringe annoying ones though<3)

1. Helium- Glass Animals

Notice how Glass Animals takes top three HAHAHAH oops I’m very biased but Helium is the single most beautiful song I’ve listened to- the lyrics, the instrumental, and the link back to the first song of the album with the ending sequence is literally the one thing I would listen to for the rest of my life goodbye lecture over

Honourable mentions:

Remember when- Wallows

Youth- Glass Animals

The other side of paradise- Glass Animals

優しい彗星- YOASOBI

Sweet chaos- DAY6

You were beautiful- DAY6

What’s the meaning of living- takayan

夜は仄か- Eve

Maybe we should take a break- slchld

Shouldn’t be- Luke Chiang

Tagging: @bubba-t3a @trashcanweeb @pi-number @fandomwriter73 @izzyphantomgamer @artsamber

#️⃣ Music Tag Games

Thank you so much @my-faves-said-gay-rights for the tag 💕💕

Game Numero Uno 🎶

Idk why I wrote it in Italian lol

♠ Rules

We're snooping on your playlist. Put your entire music library on shuffle and list the first ten songs. Then choose 10 victims.

I did this back in June but it wouldn't hurt if I do it again,right? So let's see how much my library has changed:

Downpour - I.O.I

Boom - NCT 127

I'll Be There - Shownu (Monsta X)

Top of the Chain - Cravity

ご機嫌サヨナラ - IZ*ONE

Naughty Boy - Pentagon

Star 1117 - ATEEZ

Wave - CIX

My Heart Skip a Beat - Purple Kiss

All In - Stray Kids

Game Numero Dos 🎶

♠ Rules

Write down 10 songs you believe are true masterpieces and why (no obligations!)

This will be fun, I lowkey want people to judge my taste tho 👀👀👀

Bloom by Ab6ix - I was pretty hesitant to say anything about the song cause it's...a hidden gem? Like at the same time I wanna tell everyone about it (extremely underrated lol) but at the same time I wanna keep it to myself since it means a lot me and idk why I feel exposed and vulnerable when I tell someone about it... Is that normal? Beside it being my ultimate favorite Ab6ix song it also became my signature song which, no matter how many times replay it, it always gives me some sort of comfort and happiness

I Love You by Treasure - my current I wish for it to be forever favorite Treasure song. I adore this song in so many ways like I just love everything about it... Lyrics? Amazing! Choreography? I'M ADDICTED HOW PERFECT IT IS! Mv? MF LOVE IT! Beat? MY FAVORITE JESUS CHRIST I LOVE HYPED SONGS! I really really wanna learn the choreography plss I keep bopping my head to the beat but I literally look like I have been thrown out of asylum lol Whoever tf wrote and composed this song...truly I Love You 💕

10 Months by Enhypen - this song brings me so so much happiness I can't even describe 🥰🥰 idk why but I find the song to be adorable like there is something about the song that makes me vibe every time I hear it like- I just can't help it but feel nothing but pure happiness when I'm listening to it and honestly if serotonin was a song it would be 10 Months

Top of the Chain by Cravity - my favorite song on the album, this song is so mf powerful and for some reason it boosts my confidence like watch out world when I listen to TOTC it's over for y'all!! also the song itself deserves so much better like we DIDN'T EVEN GOT A MF DANCE PRACTICE STARSHIP BITCH DON'T MAKE ME COME FOR YOU!!!

Scent by I.M - no cause why does this song makes me "I have had the worst heartbreak in my life and now I'm exhausted cause I have been crying for the past 12 hours" kind of sad, but at the same time makes me peacefully happy and decreases my anxiety? And why do I adore listening to this song on repeat especially and only during the night?

Shoot Me by Day6 - PERFECT PERFECT PERFECT PERFECT PERFECT PERFECT PERFECT PERFECT PERFECT PERFECT THIS SONG IS DEFINITION OF WORD PERFECTION, TRY TO CHANGE MY MIND!!! I remember the first time I watched the mv I was left completely speechless like my jaw dropped I almost dislocated it. MV IS A MF MASTERPIECE JESUS CHRIST!! I have never fell in love with a song right after the first listen but this one OMFG 🤯 and I'm still in love with it like no matter how many times I've heard to it I feel like I'm listening to it for the first time ever 💓

Bad Dream by CIX - look it's one of my favorite CIX songs but idk how should I feel about it like I remember my first thought when I heard it was: "this song is beautiful and kinda makes me sad but it also makes me wanna dislocate my hips what do I do know?" but then again I still vibe to it whenever I hear it *sadly swaying my hips*

Green Light by BAE173 - PERFECT DRIVING SONG I SWEAR! I DON'T EVEN DRIVE YET IK THIS IS THAT DRIVING SING. Every single time I listen to it I daydream about driving by the seaside just as the sun is about to set 💚 (maladaptive daydreamer in da house) It always successfully calms me down and stabilizes my heartbeat.

Ice Age by MCND - 3 DAYS AFTER THE SONG WAS RELEASED YOUTUBE RECOMMENDED IT, I ACCIDENTALLY CLICKED ON IT AND I SWEAR THAT WAS THE BEST ACCIDENT THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME!!! It automatically made me stan them which I do NOT regret at all! This song is God tier but ain't nobody is ready to have that conversation and it shows

Y U Comeback by 4Mix - I have been brainwashing myself with this song ever since I heard it (a week after it has been released because idk why I keep avoiding it even tho YouTube was like: "here, listen to this you will love it" but I was like nahh bitch) I swear have never thought that Thai Pop can slap THAT hard like biiitch why isn't it as popular as Kpop?! Especially these guys? Like, the have everything like JESUS CHRIST WHY ARE PEOPLE SLEEPING ON THEM?!?!

Okay I didn't mean it will be that long OMFG since when do I have an ability to write that much haha

Tagging: @aurorasillusion @mingziiii @peachzens-bread @strawberryjoongi @stay1507 @myleejooheon @hatsukeii @lala1209 @chaoticdreaminisode @just-a-dumbass-doing-shit @trashlord-007 basically everyone who wants to do it 💕

[soundcheckentertainment]

Arnprior’s John Street Pub was pounding with hard rock music on Friday night, presented by four bands bringing different but complimentary rock genres to the venue. Headliners One Bad Son and their tour mates Say Yes dropped into town, supported by local Ottawa bands Eagleson and Crossing Jane.

The running joke of the night was how hot the temperature was in the bar, each band mentioning it at least once during their set. Bassist Michael Zane of Say Yes promptly removed his shirt two songs into his performance, and one fan yelled “take it off” to One Bad Son’s vocalist Shane Volk after he made a comment about the heat. The audience even briefly started chanting “we want A/C” during a break in One Bad Son’s set.

The night was somewhat politically charged as well, with Say Yes drummer Jordan Hastings sporting a t-shirt with Donald Trump and the words “Dirty Fucker” on it. One Bad Son’s Shane Volk introduced their track It Ain’t Right by saying that Trump was keeping the song relevant.

Eagleson performs at the John St. Pub in Arnprior photo Erick Sodhi

The show opened around 9:00pm with Eagleson, easily the heaviest and hardest hitting band of the night. The four piece band didn’t waste any time talking, seemingly preferring to let their music speak instead. The message that came across to me throughout their performance was an Orwellian “two minutes hate”, an attempt to incite the audience into a frenzy of passion and rage that was mutually felt by the band themselves. Singer and guitarist Tom Edward put in hard work to rally the troops in the audience, raising his fists in the air periodically as he screamed his lyrics with a raspy edge. Bassist Ryan Wolves was particularly fun to watch, exuding comfort and stage presence as he not only head banged but body banged his way through the set. His face was particularly expressive, plainly demonstrating the fun he was having on stage. The chemistry between Edward and Wolves was also especially evident as they interacted consistently throughout their steady and driving set. By their enthusiasm and persistence in encouraging the audience to come close to the stage, Eagleson engaged the crowd with their gritty and forceful rock anthems, having many audience members head banging at stage front by the end of the short 30 minute set.

Crossing Jane performs at the John St. Pub in Arnprior photo Erick Sodhi

Next up was Crossing Jane, who hit the stage around 9:50pm. The five-piece band played a 30 minute set comprised of both originals and covers, including a heavier, pop-punk cover of U2’s Vertigo. I found it refreshing to see lead singer and frontman Joel Lefebvre uninhibited by an instrument, allowing him to move freely and engage the audience without anything between them. That being said, what really stood out to me about Crossing Jane was their drummer, Andrew Parmelee. Parmelee stole the show with his explosive energy behind the drums, reminiscent of Blink 182’s Travis Barker or Metallica’s Lars Ulrich. Parmelee twirled his sticks, stuck his tongue out, and head banged so hard that it appeared he was in a trance. Equally, I felt entranced watching him, finding it hard to look away. Crossing Jane delivered a performance that was fun and light-hearted, encouraging the audience regularly to sing along and clap their hands. Towards the end of the set, the band slowed it down with Wildman, a song that Lefebvre touchingly dedicated to a friend who had passed away. The band finished strong with a cover of In The End by Linkin Park, highlighted by Lefebvre impressively fingering one of the guitarist’s chords for him as he strummed.

Say Yes performs at the John St. Pub in Arnprior photo Erick Sodhi

The third band of the night, Say Yes, took to the stage around 10:40pm. A three-piece band hailing from Burlington, Say Yes had been accompanying One Bad Son on their Ontario tour, with Arnprior being their second last stop. Say Yes blew me away with their unique brand of rock, standing out as my favorite band of the night. Their set was energetic and lively, their songs were easy to dance to, and they seemed especially relaxed and experienced on stage. Of particular significance were the vocal harmonies between bassist Michael Zane and guitarist Adam Michael. The two complimented each other nicely, sometimes in a call and answer style, and sometimes together in harmony. Due to the nature of a three-piece band, Say Yes had more room on stage and used it well, moving away from their microphones to dance around whenever possible. The band’s stripped down sound also allowed for dynamics and lyrics to be emphasized and well articulated. It was easy to sing along with many of their songs even if hearing them for the first time, particularly the band’s newest single Too Much, Not Enough, during which Adam Michael urged the audience to sing the “whoas” with him. Zane opened the next song, To See The World, with keyboard that made for an ethereal feel, an almost airy or otherworldly vibe that Adam Michael mirrored with echoey guitar and purposeful feedback. It didn’t hurt that the fog machine had started up during their set, adding to the spacey effect of it all and highlighting the song as one of their best. Say Yes presented a fun and fresh sound that I thoroughly enjoyed, their 35 minute set packing a punch that left me wanting more.

One Bad Son performs at the John St. Pub in Arnprior photo Erick Sodhi

Saskatoon natives One Bad Son (OBS) hit the stage around 11:45pm, diving right into the first song of their headlining performance. The dance floor was quickly packed in a way the audience had been hesitant to accommodate the other bands with; it was clear that this was who the crowd had come to see. Unfortunately, luck did not favour One Bad Son for this performance. After their first song, Made in the Name of Rock and Roll, singer Shane Volk announced that he had come down with an illness that prevented him from hitting his trademark high notes. He apologized in advance for his vocals, which he likened to Johnny Cash in that they would be sung much lower than usual. Interestingly, a poster of Johnny Cash graced the wall beside the stage, and the members of OBS were dressed all in black, further invoking the Johnny Cash spirit. During their second song, Year of the Wolf, the bad luck continued for OBS when drummer Kurt Dahl broke his snare drum. Luckily, Crossing Jane drummer Andrew Parmelee was there to quickly provide a replacement. Next, One Bad Son played their new single Raging Bull, with Volk introducing it as their first number two song in Canada. Despite the hard time he was having with his voice, Volk was still engaging to watch, leaning over the monitors to get close to the audience and serenade them. It was clear that Volk had his heart in the performance, even if the rest of his body wasn’t cooperating. Volk was relatively light hearted about it, making fun of himself throughout the performance, and at one point telling the audience that if he died “with good rock and roll people, that [would] be fine by [him].”

Volk left the stage several times throughout the set, but the band continued to play, particularly during a cover of Metallica’s Master of Puppets. They also played a cover of the Talking Heads’ Psycho Killer, starting off with an impressive drum solo by Dahl. Volk asked the audience a few times throughout the set to help him sing, and the audience happily obliged. Volk was clearly thankful for the support, expressing his gratitude several times throughout the hour long set, which ended with Retribution Blues. Volk high-fived crowd members at the front of the stage and announced that he was going to “drink [his] blues away.” It was disappointing to see Volk struggle, and to miss out on his full strength performance, but it was also heartening to see the audience support (someone even bought Volk a shot), and the support from the other bands on the bill. One Bad Son could have easily cancelled their performance, but they chose not to, Volk announcing to the audience that “this is rock and roll, we push through everything.” Volk also promised that next time he comes to Arnprior, he will scream for three hours straight in his eight octaves. I’ve got that in writing now, Volk. We’re going to hold you to it.

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One Bad Son performs at the John St. Pub in Arnprior photo Erick Sodhi

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Crossing Jane performs at the John St. Pub in Arnprior photo Erick Sodhi

One Bad Son performs at the John St. Pub in Arnprior photo Erick Sodhi

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One Bad Son performs at the John St. Pub in Arnprior photo Erick Sodhi

Say Yes performs at the John St. Pub in Arnprior photo Erick Sodhi

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One Bad Son performs at the John St. Pub in Arnprior photo Erick Sodhi

One Bad Son performs at the John St. Pub in Arnprior photo Erick Sodhi

One Bad Son performs at the John St. Pub in Arnprior photo Erick Sodhi

Eagleson performs at the John St. Pub in Arnprior photo Erick Sodhi

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One Bad Son performs at the John St. Pub in Arnprior photo Erick Sodhi

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One Bad Son Shows Arnprior That Rock and Roll Will Always Prevail Arnprior’s John Street Pub was pounding with hard rock music on Friday night, presented by four bands bringing different but complimentary rock genres to the venue.