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chazakiel-doremi · 11 months

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Far Off Unhappy Things 1: Hyacinth By Renko Doremi Rodenburg

“What even is a fox?” Reinhild asked Hyacinth, beautiful Hyacinth.

“Hm,” Hyacinth said, looking up from her book. They sat on the porch of Hyacinth’s house, her little wooden cottage, her farmstead. It took her a while to process things, especially when roused from some activity she was engrossed in.

“Oh,” she then said as Reinhild her question reached her. “One of those things trickling in from that other place. Stories. Things. Concepts. A fox is an animal. It tricks men and pulls clever pranks on women, bright red or orange is its fur.”

“That explains it then,” Reinhild said as she ruffled her own red hair, almost but not quite the same colour as the heath growing all around the Lands Lost, subtly different from the colouring of the perpetually-trapped-in-autumn trees. “How do those in the villages know what a fox is, though?”

“They don’t. You’re the fox now.”

“I’m the fox now,” Reinhild whispered to herself. “Should I get some more pomace inside?”

“Hm,” Hyacinth muttered, already engrossed in her book again. ‘Slaves to the Blind Gods,’ it read on the cover. Knowing her, it was either the most peculiar smut or some essay on Old World horrors. Both would probably drive Reinhild mad, but for quite different reasons.

She got up and went inside. Hyacinth her house wasn’t large, but really- nobody’s was these days. In the kitchen she had a couple of bottles of pumpkin pomace, an alcoholic drink distilled from squashed up, ground up pumpkin meat. Someone in a nearby town made it out of pumpkins Hyacinth grew in patches on her farm. Back outside she poured herself another glass, and filled up Hyacinth’s half-empty glass as well.

Tonight was quiet and peaceful, tomorrow would not be.

The sun slowly sank under the horizon. Before long it’d be too dark for Hyacinth to read, and she’d pace around the house for a bit, frustrated that it was too dark to do anything, before finally going to sleep. It was getting late for Reinhild too. There weren’t too many hours of darkness, so she got up and prepared to go to sleep. She wouldn’t be caught dead in a bed, though. Instead she sat upright against the south wall of Hyacinth’s house, so that the first rays of the sun would hit her left cheek first. She closed her eyes and felt around for the comfort of her door, an open book in hand.

It was the next morning indeed the sunlight that woke her up, so she relaxed her grip on Helmatot and got up. Hyacinth was already up as well, pacing back and forth before her door, an open book in hand.

“Restless much?” Reinhild asked.

“I cannot read or sit still when there’s a solid chance I’ll be burying you this afternoon.” Hyacinth replied.

“You won’t,” Reinhild said, laughing. “You’re going to draw runes on my sword arm and a sigil on my back, and in the afternoon you’re going to hold me as the pact enacts its toll on my body. No burying anyone.”

“Do not taunt me,” Hyacinth said.

“I’m not.”

“What do you want for breakfast?” Hyacinth asked. “We’re out of everything except for something salt, something that passes for meat.”

Reinhild thought for a bit, looking at Hyacinth. “Why don’t we do the runes now, then go eat something in town? We need to go in the direction of the forest anyway.”

“I will not,” Hyacinth said.

“Come on, accompany me to town for once.”

“No. I’m going to make you a plate of food, then we’ll do the runes.”

Reinhild sighed. “Alright, have it your way.”

The food was indeed salty, and somewhat resembling meat. It went down well with the remains of yesterday’s bottle of alcohol, though. After breakfast- which was spent in silence with Hyacinth absent-mindedly flipping through the pages of a book- Hyacinth started preparing her brushes, pencils, pen and a variety of inks.

“Go wash yourself,” she instructed Reinhild.

“I’m not that filthy-” Reinhild tried to say but was interrupted by her friend.

“You are. Go to the brook and clean yourself. Grab some things to scrub and dry yourself with from my room.”

“Fine,” she said.

The brook was downhill, right behind Hyacinth’s house.

“Eternal Autumn,” Reinhild cursed as she splashed water over her skin and scrubbed it clean with sheets of fabric, the cold biting into her flesh. As she looked out over the tiny stream, the little wooden bridge someone had built there ages ago, and the endless rolling hills covered in orange, brown, yellow and mottled with green and purple, it was almost a scene from a fairytale.

“Shame for the endless fucking cold though,” she muttered to herself.

Clean- or at least, clean enough that she suspected that Hyacinth would stop complaining, she dried herself off, put on her clothes and leather and went back to the house. There, Hyacinth had shoved most of her belongings to the side, and sat cross-legged in the clearing, her tools beside her. Small candles burned in a circle before her.

“And I thought you ran out of candles long ago,” Reinhild said.

“I have run out of candles to waste on frivolous things like reading, or entertaining your simple mind with the gentle swaying of flame,” Hyacinth said.

“I think I’ll go back to the brook,” she replied.

“Sit down, take off your shirt and be quiet.”

She did. In total silence, dreadful silence that reminded her of vague things that had already happened and of things yet to pass, Reinhild took off her shirt and sat down in the circle of candles before Hyacinth.

Soft tinkling- the mixing of paint, wooden tools tapping against glass and metal pencils being filled broke the quiet that had persisted too long. She shivered as Hyacinth put a sharp, cold shape against her back and slowly drew a circle.

“Don’t move,” Hyacinth whispered.

First a circle, then patterns too complex for Reinhild to track by sense of touch alone. As Hyacinth drew, she felt a chill draw into her body. A chill different from the witch’s demeanour, or the biting of the brook or wind. It was the chill of the dead, stiffening her flesh and hardening her skin. Behind her, Hyacinth started muttering words, poems, to quiet the chthonian spirits the sigil was drawing into Reinhild’s body, so that they would not tear the skin or break her bones.

As the thaumaturgical rigor mortis set in, Reinhild lost most feelings in her flesh and skin.

“Arm,” Hyacinth commanded her when she was done, and placed her hand under her shoulder, nudging her to lift her right arm. “Turn around and give me your arm,” she said, not satisfied.

Hesitant, Reinhild turned around, and Hyacinth grabbed her right arm and immediately started etching the outlines of the runes with a wooden- yet sharp- knife. She was not at all interested in Reinhild’s body.

Her skin cold and hard, what Hyacinth was doing wasn’t really cutting. It was more carving, woodwork rather than surgery. After setting the patterns, she took out brushes and paints. As she inked in the runes she had carved in Reinhild’s tough flesh, a heat started to fill her right arm. As Hyacinth filled them up, the cracks and cuts in Reinhild’s arm started to glow with heat. As she set the final dots of blue paint next to a set of red and yellow, it was overwhelming. Reinhild her arm burned with energy, vigour, and life. Fire leaked from the cracks, lighting up the runic patterns.

“Do you need help putting on your armour?”

“No.”

She struggled to put her armour on. The pieces wouldn’t sit still, it wouldn’t move as fluidly as she wanted, and the straps were too tight and too large. The world was warping and buckling under some kind of strain, and her head hurt with a fever. Colours made no sense and the heath outside might as well have been some construction of endlessly towering painted rolling flames in all the poet’s colours.

“Reinhild,” Hyacinth said to her as she stumbled outside. “Rein? Keep it together.”

“Yeah,” she replied. Words felt thick on her tongue, as if she was coughing up sludge instead of sounds. “My heart’s stopped so walking is difficult.”

Hyacinth shook her head, and dragged her along the long, winding path to the edge of the forest.

Every now and then Reinhild would get frantic bursts of energy, and feel like sprinting the rest of the way, but Hyacinth calmed her down. “Not yet, not yet,” she’d say. Almost completely delirious, Reinhild walked after her friend. The once familiar landscape had warped into an almost unrecognisable cacophony of colour, smell, sensation, all somehow too loud and too bright at the same time. After what felt like a week, an endless week of walking along the blasted heath and dusty trails they reached the edge of the forest.

“Don’t go running off into the forest,” Hyacinth said as they walked along the treeline towards a ruined building.

She was right. Reinhild had been eyeing the forest that marked the border of the Lands. Now, delusional from spells and magic, the forest seemed like an enticing wildernis to get lost in. Get lost in the green, brown and black- crawl on all four, rip out the throat of a boar- “Rein,” Hyacinth said as she saw her salivating, hunched over and growling. “We’re almost there. Hang on for a moment more.”

The stone building had once been an abbey, or perhaps a dormitory for some other place now long lost. They walked in through a crumbled gash in the wall. Inside, on the courtyard, two people were waiting for them.

One was dressed in black, with elfin features like Hyacinth. The other was a young man, in chainmail and colourful cloth. In his hands he gripped a sword- a rapier, more fit for thrusting than slashing, more fit for puncturing than stabbing.

Instinctively, Reinhild reached for her own blade, the shortsword Helmatot. “Not yet,” Hyacinth chided her.

As the young man looked Reinhild over, he became visibly anxious. Afraid. Fear wafted over from him thick in the air, and Reinhild gave in.

“Reinhild,” Hyacinth said sternly but to no avail.

She was already sprinting towards him as she drew her sword. For whatever reason the young man responded by stumbling backwards, which set Reinhild off even more. Gripped tightly in her now burning, blazing, right arm she held Helmatot, and swung it at her opponent hard.

He tried to deflect, but his rapier wasn’t made for that. The thin metal bent the moment the shortsword hit it, leaving it in a borderline unusable condition, and barely slowing down Reinhild’s blow, causing her to hit him hard enough in the sides that he buckled over in pain. His chainmail prevented the sword from cutting him, but that was all it did. Reinhild immediately swung again, but in her dissociative state she wasn’t as skilled as she’d be sober, and cleaved open the man’s skull. The women who had come with him screamed a name.

She howled in victory and dropped on all fours, crawling over to the broken corpse. She tried to get to her opponents soft bits, tender flesh and warm blood, but was frustrated by the armour and cloths in her way, and yelled in frustration.

“Reinhild,” she heard someone call, far in the distance. Someone she knew, perhaps. It didn’t matter. “Reinhild,” she heard someone scream as she finally managed to rip the annoying, interlinked metal rings asunder and sank her teeth into soft flesh. It was sweet, and despite it being rather lean and chewy, had more taste and texture than any preserved meats she had had in recent memory. Plenty of blood flowed from the grisly chunks she tore from whatever it was the flesh belonged to, salty and with a lingering taste of iron. Slowly her mind calmed, lulled to sleep by sweet victory and good food, and she cuddled up to mangled meat and broken armour, and drifted off into sleep.

When she woke up, the sun was setting. She was outside somewhere, and struggled to make sense of her situation.

Slowly but surely, hazy images of a stone ruin and rolling fields came back to her. She was sitting against one of the walls of that ruin, she realised.

“You’ve woken up,” someone beside her said. Hyacinth, beautiful Hyacinth.

“I feel terrible,” Reinhild said.

“You should see the other guy,” Hyacinth said.

“I feel broken. Dehydrated, too. Like my entire body is made of parched leather. My right arm- indescribable.”

“Did I win?”

“You’re still alive. For now. Scattered through the courtyard are the remains of Fleur’s champion.”

“That’s-” she didn’t finish her sentence.

“At least that’s going to make my night easier,” Hyacinth said.

“Why’s that,” Reinhild asked, but then remembered the taste of flesh and tang of blood fresh on her tongue. “Oh,” she said.

“Yes,” Hyacinth replied.

“We should head homewards, then. I don’t want to be out in some field when midnight strikes.”

“There’s plenty of time. It’s not far, and we have until a bit after midnight.”

Reinhild got up, groaning in pain as she did. Blood dripped from the gashes in her right arm. She could feel a wet patch on her back- also blood. At least that was her own blood- in contrast to the dried-up stains on her leather chestpiece and the rest of her clothes.

“Helmatot,” she asked Hyacinth.

“Over there,” Hyacinth replied as she pointed to Reinhild’s beloved shortsword. “I know you prefer it in your hands, but I didn’t feel like being beheaded during your terrible sleep.”

As they walked home, memories came back to Reinhild bit by bit. A strange realisation that this was the same world she witnessed a few hours ago through completely different eyes.

“I want to wash myself when we get home.”

“Not until I’ve disinfected and bandaged you and your wounds start closing up.”

“I’ll freeze to death, then.”

“Then you wash yourself tomorrow. You might get stained still, anyway.”

It was dark when they got to Hyacinth’s farmstead three hours later. Reinhild could barely breathe when she got home- Hyacinth had, to her crippled body, walked at a gruelling pace.

The moment they were inside Reinhild started undoing her armour and kicked away her clothes. She curled up on a rug made out of the hide of some terrible, woolly beast that laid before the fireplace. The eternally burning fireplace that was just slightly too cold to be mistaken for natural fire.

Hyacinth brought her a glass of pomace, which she greedily drank.

She laid herself down again and tried to doze off. She felt unnaturally vulnerable, sleeping without armour or sword, in a building where she wouldn’t hear people outside approaching, nor smell them on the wind. She was too broken to care, and fell asleep.

An hour after midnight it began.

She shook awake, wracked by pain and hunger. The toll had to be paid in due.

“Hunger,” she said, hoarse.

Behind her, Hyacinth embraced her. “I promised,” she said.

“This is worse than opiate withdrawal,” she groaned. “I’m not a child, I won’t scream. I’m not a child.”

Tremors shook her body, and she felt colder than she ever had. Sweat dripped from her forehead.

“So hungry.”

Hyacinth behind her stretched her arm out, and produced a knife with her other hand. She pulled it down her wrist and commanded Reinhild to drink.

Despite being made majorly of paint, Hyacinth’s blood felt, smelled, and tasted quite like the real thing save for the slightest tinge of linseed oil. Memories of the young knight she’d molested came back. The taste of flesh and tang of blood.

Hyacinth’s blood was different. More invigorating, less real. More real than the world around them, less real than Reinhild was. An ethereal pink in colour, though that could’ve been the illumination of the fireplace or her own addled brain.

Beautiful like Hyacinth was, tasted like she imagined Hyacinth would taste.

She howled.

“Be quiet,” Hyacinth said.

“I never know when you’re taunting me,” Reinhild groaned. “More.”

“Do you want me to die of anaemia?”

“More,” Reinhild howled.

Hyacinth tore open her wrist further, and held her arm above Reinhild’s head.

“Closer,” she sputtered as her mouth filled with pink blood.

“You’ll bite me, you animal,” Hyacinth chided her sternly.

“That’s your fault,” Reinhild said.

“That’s your fault,” Reinhild started crying.

“That’s your fault,” she could barely repeat through the tears.

Her face covered in her friend’s blood, her pain waning, she fell asleep, sobbing. Like my writing? Read more over at: https://faroffunhappythings.com/?cat=41

#short story #cannibalism #body horror #problematic fiction #problematic content #far off unhappy things #tw violence #tw cannibalism

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libidomechanica · 3 months

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Shaped her foode relish thin finds should lose my jade

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she straying. Right entice to come too cold, he converted foe as farre away? Till day: therefore to pass like the virginitie. Lure it calling from under. The eternal spirit playe, of which grown, so the Muse determined, rival now! Embracing, she lies, love to see their roses around a page or vessel lost. Than an after years or lately lost,

my soul. They seem to know all minds can never deeper meets his friends. And she gave the next to his hand is so did Miss Rawbolds—pretty shell- fish. And Hayley’s Triumph in ever past echoing died,—and he died, gone another heyre: for its corner; yet I feel her spent in county cherish dispossessed of these quenchless as blythe I turned the salt tides, we

won’t, and to force her come next day, to the Power, told of course of perfect seisure thrush, singing, What Lamp had Destiny! His other noble scions which though which would less soul once he colours eare daily prosperity. Me pour’d him Rx Pulv Com gr. He wandering: it is his own hair sprent with these slopes; who knows: but when, drop their spite, they are the bed to

me in hastily logs of the Universe pair,— and you the loue, ioue on her starry Fays; the size of threescore for their wintry sun the daily logs of Pegasus, or dim thence came ye, merry larks on Ilsley Downs, they were kind of prophecy, and stoute: but approve parent to ring; the Dee, the talk of. Quite so censorious mad, and such a shrine of

some time; down each a fix’d foot, obliquely rubbing very will, or be so the seeks, look into jest. Not as a test. Beauty from the fought him in the wayfaring through joys and dispossession the rest my plainly aim; full many Knots unravel’d by the skiff; and if her young or better, partly bends to And much followed war, more I loved you.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #204 texts #ballad

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alightinthelantern · 9 months

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book reviews: People of the Book (Geraldine Brooks)

BOOK BLURB: From the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of March comes an intricate, ambitious novel of richly imagined history and intimate emotional intensity. People of the Book sweeps its readers on an intellectual adventure, from convivencia Spain to the ruins of Sarajevo, from the Silver Age of Venice to the sunburned rock faces of northern Australia.

In 1996, a rare book expert [Hanna Heath] is offered the job of a lifetime: analysis and conservation of a mysterious, beautifully illuminated Hebrew manuscript [the Sarajevo Haggadah] created in fifteenth-century Spain and recently saved from destruction during the shelling of Sarajevo's libraries. When Hanna Heath, a caustic Aussie loner with a passion for her work, discovers a series of tiny artifacts in the book's ancient binding—an insect-wing fragment, wine stains, salt crystals, a white hair—she begins to unlock the mysteries of the book's eventful past and to uncover the dramatic stories of those who created it and those who risked everything to protect it.

In Bosnia during World War II, a Muslim risks his life to protect it from the Nazis. In the hedonistic salons of fin de siècle Vienna, the book becomes a pawn in the struggle against the city's rising anti-Semitism. In Venice in 1609, a Catholic priest saves the book from the Inquisition's fires. In Tarragona in 1492, the scribe who wrote the text sees his family destroyed by the agonies of forced exile. And in Seville in 1480, the reason for the manuscript's extraordinary illuminations is finally disclosed. Hanna's investigations unexpectedly plunge her into the intrigues of fine art forgers and ultranationalist fanatics. her experiences will test her belief in herself and in the man she has come to love.

REVIEW: As a fictionalized history for a real-life book, the Sarajevo Haggadah, I was expecting a very dry, academic piece of fiction when I began reading this novel, but it turned out to be a very dramatic, colorful book, and I don't mean that in a good way. When a wine stain on the book's pages is analyzed it turns out to have a little blood mixed in with it, and the analyzer immediately starts imagining dramatic explanations for it. Protagonist Hanna quotes the famous medical adage "When one hears hoofbeats, look for horses, not zebras", saying there's probably a very humdrum reason the blood was mixed in. The novel however is full of zebras, providing an explanation for the blood that's exceedingly dramatic, wherein one of the chief priests of the Inquisition in Venice is secretly a Jew snatched from his parents as a child and adopted into a Catholic monastery. As memories from his early childhood assault him after viewing the Haggadah, he writes in the book the words to save the book from burning and his name as a way to enforce his Catholic identity against his mental anguish. The glass cup he's holding shatters in his grip and pricks his thumb, which bleeds onto the same page some Kosher wine was spilled onto minutes earlier, not during a Seder feast as is most likely and realistic, but as the local Rabbi of Venice was plying the priest with wine in an effort to bribe him into saving the Haggadah, as the priest is a sot.

The novel is filled with colorful characters and extraordinary happenings, including a young, respected Viennese museum staff member who dresses like a punk at work, and a 17th-century rabbi addicted to gambling—even the protagonist is the daughter of a world-famous neurosurgeon, with whom she has a fraught relationship—and exceedingly few ordinary people or ordinary explanations for any of the fictional clues found in the Haggadah by book conservator Hanna. The novel also ends with the real Haggadah being swapped with a perfect copy, and the forgery is put on display for six years in Sarajevo due to the machinations of two characters, who fear for the real Haggadah's safety. Only Hanna sees the fake for what it is, and she leaves her profession humiliated and full of self-doubt. Eventually the true Haggadah is put back in its rightful place with a bit of spy-work and a helpful ally.

The book is exceedingly dramatic to the point of being unrealistic, and not intellectual or intricate in the least, and the ending is terribly cliché. The book was a major disappointment. I don't recommend reading it.

#People of the Book #Geraldine Brooks #book reviews #books #reviews #personal

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deathcar · 1 year

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ポスタル/デスキャブツアー

ポスタルとデスキャブのジョイントツアーが決定。現在わかっているこのツアー以外に国外でライブをするとしても、カナダ、ヨーロッパのいくつかくらいだと思うので、もしそうだとすれば観に行くしかない。ということで情報集めを今のうちからしておく。アクセス、キャパシティー、そして屋外か屋内かも。経験上、屋外のイベントの場合はストームで中止なんてことがあるから注意が必要…。はたして来年の秋、この中のどこかへたどり着いているかどうか。

The Postal Service "Give Up" & Death Cab for Cutie "Transatlanticism" The 20th Anniversary Tour

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2023/09/05(火) ※追加 The Anthem (ワシントンDC/6000人/屋内/Lauren Mayberry) https://theanthemdc.com/

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2023/10/09(月) ※追加 The Greek Theatre (カリフォルニア州バークリー/8500人/屋外/The Beths)

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2023/10/13(金) Hollywood Bowl (カリフォルニア州ロサンゼルス/17500人/屋外/The Beths) https://www.hollywoodbowl.com/

2023/10/14(土) ※追加 Santa Barbara Bowl (カリフォルニア州サンタバーバラ/4500人/屋外/Pedro The Lion) https://sbbowl.com/

2023/10/15(日) ※追加 Hollywood Bowl (カリフォルニア州ロサンゼルス/17500人/屋外/Built to Spill) https://www.hollywoodbowl.com/

2023/10/17(火) ※追加 Hollywood Bowl (カリフォルニア州ロサンゼルス/17500人/屋外/Iron & Wine) https://www.hollywoodbowl.com/

#events #Death Cab for Cutie #The Postal Service #Warpaint #The Beths #Built to Spill #Iron & Wine #Riot Fest #Lauren Mayberry #Pedro The Lion

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huntergreys · 2 years

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Devil s tuning fork

#DEVIL S TUNING FORK HOW TO#

#DEVIL S TUNING FORK PC#

He will lead them to the springs of life-giving water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. No sun or scorching heat will beat down on them, because the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will shepherd them. They worship him day and night in his temple, and the one seated on the throne will shelter them. This is the reason they are before God’s throne. They have washed their robes and made them white in the Lamb’s blood. Then he said to me, “These people have come out of great hardship. Highly experimental and set in an abstract world inspired by the art of M.

#DEVIL S TUNING FORK PC#

Then one of the elders said to me, “Who are these people wearing white robes, and where did they come from?” Devil’s Tuning Fork is a free PC download developed by a small team of students from DePaul University. They fell facedown before the throne and worshipped God, saying, They cried out with a loud voice:Īll the angels stood in a circle around the throne, and around the elders and the four living creatures. They wore white robes and held palm branches in their hands. They were standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were from every nation, tribe, people, and language. If you’d like to be featured in future episodes, email your question or Bible passage suggestion to 7:9-17Īfter this I looked, and there was a great crowd that no one could number. If you want to support the Patreon and help keep the podcast up and running, you can learn more and pledge your support at /queertheology We are connected to the struggles that came before us.Queering the Bible: Revelation 7:9-17.Be curious about the concern underneath the anti-queer beliefs.Protecting yourself while still meeting people with grace.Avoid generalizing see people individually.Take our answers to this question with a grain of salt Perception, 1975, volume 4, pages 107-109 Building the Devils Tuning Fork Brooks Masterton, John M Kennedy Scarborough College, University of Toronto.Email question: on being kind to those who are unkind to queer folks.Brian: winter, time in NY, and going back home.This wild and wacky from the last book of the Christian Bible has a surprising amount of relevance for the LGBTQ community today. Shay changed Brian’s mind about featuring this passage and how we queer this text from Revelation. If you’re a regular listener, you’ll notice that we don’t look at Revelation often but today is an exemption. How do I respond to these things in a way that is constructive and kind?” “As a queer person, that can be difficult to swallow.

#DEVIL S TUNING FORK HOW TO#

She wants to know how to be kind and warm to the oppressed and suffering when others are hateful and dismissive comments of queer folks. This listener works in a homeless shelter where she finds some of the people she works with and serves are anti-queer. If you find yourself properly mesmerized the soundtrack is available online on their website as well.In today’s episode, we answer a question sent through our email. The whole premise here is right up our alley, any type of sound visualization is going to catch our eyes and ears-the idea of interaction and puzzle solving mixed with the flexing of our aural muscles (bones?) makes for a perfect afternoon time waster. There have certainly been albums that have made us feel music like we've never felt before, but the concept of literally seeing by audio is one we've only heard about in neuroscience books, and we're not particularly keen on having a stroke just to induce the possibility of synesthesia. You solve little puzzles to save children from comas and the world is rendered by banging on your tuning fork. The mechanic of the game is centered on the idea of echolocation and radar and the resulting product is pretty damn cool. Hold on, before you tune out because of the word "game" it's worth checking out the video if nothing else. The project, which is sort of technically called a game is part of the Independent Games Festival Student Showcase. That something is something called Devil's Tuning Fork which made us smile from ear to ear and think of strange and unusual uses for technology. Maybe it's the post-Grammy slump, or perhaps it's an entire nation enthralled with something called Lost, but we've wandered off into the internet to find something a little different today.

#Devil s tuning fork

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its-formi · 2 years

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party Best party songs to rock the dance floor with

The best party songs you must dance on at your next party. Top party songs for your houseparty night!

Dance is considered as the life of the party, moments that make the occasion memorable, something that everyone enjoys.

Getting on the dance floor, throwing hands into the mist and the illuminating disco ball, shaking your legs, creating your personalized dance steps, putting each and every stress in your life aside for a moment, and enjoying every beat of the song, are the jubilating moments of a party. Talking about dance, what is that single thing without which dance doesn’t feel like a dance? Songs. Songs that bring the party animals out of people. Catering to you, Formi presents to you top songs to dance to at a party.

The classical — 1980s

When it comes to dancing, the songs that are up the ladder are none other than the 80s songs.

There was a special type of energy that the 80s songs radiated into the air. Humming along with the beats of the exceptionally created dance music, these songs compelled people to get off their chairs and dance along with it. Along with music, break dance started to come onto pages. The most significant and prevalent element in the 80s songs was Jazz. The slowness to the music that jazz brings with it was and still is enjoyed the most. Along with this, The 1980s saw the emergence of electronic dance music and a new wave, also known as Modern Rock.

The fanbase of these classic songs has not and can never be matched.

A few of the best 80s party songs are:

Micheal Jackson — Billie Jean

Salt-N-Pepa — Push It

A-ha — Take On Me

Madonna- Into the Groove

Rick James — Super Freak Part 1

AC/DC — You Shook Me All Night Long

Miami Sound Machine — Conga

Bryan Adams — Summer of ‘69

Queen — Another One Bites the Dust

B-52s — Love Shack

The cool 1990s

As years went by and we stumbled upon the 90s, a change in music was witnessed. The 1990s saw the continuation of teen pop and dance-pop trends that emerged in the 1970s and 1980s. Along with these, the legacy of Jazz music was brought forward, with urban music in the late-1980s and 1990s often blended with styles such as soul, funk, and jazz, resulting in fusion genres such as new jack swing, neo-soul, hip hop, soul, and g-funk which were popular. This period glimpsed the most significant leap in the Modern Rock genre, which paved the way for the many songs in the next decade. This decade also saw the emergence of

Here are some of the most favorite party songs during the 90s:

Metallica — Enter Sandman

Nirvana — Smells Like Teen Spirit

Dr Dre — Next Episode

Salt-N-Papa — Shoop

Garth Brooks — Friends in Low Places

The mid blues- 2000s

The 2000s ahh, don’t they remind most of us of our childhood? The golden era we grew up in. Listening to few of the best songs and dancing upon their beats. Well, we’ve all thoroughly enjoyed and danced on the wild songs of the 2000s, haven’t we? This period saw the growth of few of the best edm songs. Who can forget top hip hop songs and break dance songs we’ve all vibed on? A run down the memory lane leads us to a total bliss where in we cherish our glorious childhood songs. Here are the top songs to dance on, at a party.

Yeah- usher

Hey ya- outkast

Tipsy — jkwon

Milkshake — Kelis

Crazy in love- Beyonce

Get the party started — pink

Pop — nsync

Señorita — Justin Timberlake

Get low — Lil Jon and the east side boys

The 2010s- welcome to the party culture

The 2010 era was one of the best for the partyheads. This era saw all of it, the raps, the metal songs, the hip hop songs, country songs and of course EDM! This is the period, when most of us would have headed to our first parties and experienced the many first times ;). If you’re looking for a song to dance on at your next houseparty, we’ve you covered. Here are the top songs from the 2010s that will make you put on your dancing shoes and go — ooh la la

Rolling in the deep — Adele

Dancing on my own- Robyn

Firework — Katy Perry

Somebody that i used to know- gotyze feat kimbra

We found Love — Rihanna

What makes you beautiful — one direction

Radioactive — imagine dragons

Thinking out loud — ed Sheeran

Gangam style — psy

Closer- chainsmokers

The current gen ;)

Well, what’s the last party song you vibed to? It’d probably have already gotten famous on tik tok or Instagram reels! Party songs have taken over the current era, be it a small houseparty, or a grand night party or an office party, the current party songs suit every occasion. The current generation of EDM and party songs are probably few of the greatest songs to vibe and dance on. Here are few of the new songs to dance.

Blinding lights — The Weeknd

Butter — BTS

Rain on me- bacon rouge

Bella caio — royal mint

Dance monkey

Conclusion

Well, the blog would have definitely satisfied the party dancer in you. Whether you’re good with your dance moves or mediocre, these songs will definitely make you want to break a leg on the dance floor. Well, if not, you can be the generic headbanger at least. The songs we saw today were perfect for hip hop dance, break dance or in fact any kind of dance. Even the bathroom dancers could express and shake their body to the beats of these amazing songs! We at formi, look forward to see you at parties at least headbanging to some of these songs! See you soon ;)

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gumjester · 3 years

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top 5 least favorite eah characters because i want to see shit go down

oh god. when called to speak the truth, i have no choice.

1. rosabella. lets rip this band-aid off first and fast. i am so sure that im wrong, that i've got something mismatched in my head and there's actually a really good reason people like her, but i have never seen rosabellas appeal as a character. i've watched epic winter three times now, including once when i was taking meticulous notes the entire time, and i have found that not only is rosabella a ridiculously flat character, she's also deadass a bitch. i can quote multiple lines because i wrote them down where rosabella says something that's just completely out of pocket for no reason. there's one i can even write down now because it's burned into my mind forever just from how hard it clobbered me over the fucking head, where the gang is hiking up the mountain and rosabellas skis break or something and daring goes "oh i could carry you" and rosabella FUCKING responds like "daring, are you finally thinking about something other than yourself?" which is just ridiculously out of order in my eyes. who fucking says that. what the fuck. there are a million other things i cant stand about rosabella but that about sums it up for now i don't want to prolong this dskjfgljdfg

2. brooke. i genuinely feel so bad about this. brooke page is the coolest concept with the worst possible execution. she is the random fucking twelve year old your friend is babysitting who won't stop poking you and asking if you have games on your phone except she's also a god who will destroy the universe to make you give her your phone and then not think a fucking thing of it when everyone is picking up the pieces after her. she's annoying, her voice is annoying, her stupid fucking footnotes in the shadow high book were annoying. i would kick a child. i would.

3. blondie. i think blondie's pretty entertaining and a useful character, but as a person she repulses and terrifies me. she produced propaganda. i mention this to every single person i interact with but that's because i literally cant get over it. the webisode is called blondie's just right and the entire time it's just her conducting hoaxes to make the school and headmaster grimm look good and then it's never addressed again. it's just something she does. she also breaks into random houses and has absolutely no handle on the ethics of journalism. blondie is a classist social parasite bootlicker and i can't stand the bitch

4. bunny. I'M SO SORRY I KNOW WHAT I SAID IN MY WONDERLANDIAN TOP 5 BUT THIS IS PERSONAL. it dates back to year 10 chemistry where my friend and i would pick an eah character and slag them off to amuse ourselves, and bunny became the staple of this game because lets be honest her canon character is so easy to kick at. we villainised her so much it was fucking ridiculous but so funny, i remember we made up this intricate theory with spider diagrams about how bunny was the root of every single bad thing that happens in the show. it was all jokes but that's how deep this went. im currently trying to unlearn my bunny hate but its so deep rooted its going to take a while. sorry bunny, you did nothing wrong but i still hate you for no reason

5. crystal. theres really no one else in eah i have massively negative feelings about, and i think a character as blank as crystal winter being on this list proves that. i actually dont hate her - rewatching epic winter i realised she did actually have a character arc and learn stuff which is sometimes a thing that characters just bypass in eah so i was pleased. however her entire arc culminated in learning how to tie her stupid little hockey shoes without the assistance of her child servants so minus points for that. also she's just super fucking annoying, i feel comfortable saying that because who the hell likes crystal enough to defend her

im really sorry for all the other salt though, i promise i'm just irrational and a bitch so if you think i'm wrong about your favourite character, yes i am. they're the best, don't listen to me

#eah #ever after high #rosabella beauty salt #brooke page salt #blondie lockes salt #bunny blanc salt #crystal winter salt #i dont want to actually tag the characters because that feels so mean omg #thank you for the ask tho nothingtosee babe #i hope sufficient shit went down

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asexualzoro · 4 years

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list of reasons i find Brook ridiculous

for brook’s birthday, ive decided to follow up my other two posts of this genre by dragging yet another idiot swordsman. i have everybrook open on my phone next to me. here we go

- first and foremost his most ridiculous crime is existing. as he’s already so ridiculous as a character, im going to talk only about things hes done

- i want to know, did Brook make a conscious effort to change his laugh to sound like his favorite song? how long did it take? what was the in between period like? what did his crew have to say about this? the rumbar pirates were big on playful teasing, did they let Brook live this down?

- ALTERNATIVELY: was brook’s laugh already like that? is that why bink’s sake is his favorite song? is that why it was York’s favorite-- oh we only made it two bullet points before i made myself sad

- relatedly i cannot make fun of anything Brook did in his backstory it will make me too sad. hes spared for now

- i DO want to say from a writing standpoint its so fucking ridiculous to me that he mentions twice being a convoy captain in the past and it never comes up again. oda?? why even bother to include something that cool if you weren't even going to do anything with it?? you could have said hes just always been a pirate but no. oda?? oda

- there was that bit where a bunch of people thought Brook was satan and addressed him as such (i think Satan-sama in the original, and the translation i read was like... Lord Satan or Lord Demon or something). not only did Brook never correct them, but he also ran with it and later used this case of mistaken identity as a reason to threaten to eat a man’s heart

- also both men and women were showing him their underwear in that bit. bi rights

- those satanists let Brook get kidnapped while saying they would try to summon him back. do you think they're still at it

- Brook is older than... basically every old man in the series. Garp, Whitebeard, Rayleigh... all of them. something about that is so weird to me and i cannot place why

- Brook has seen and can prove the existence of an afterlife in One Piece canon and its then never addressed again

- Brook missed so many huge events while being dead. im looking at a timeline rn and these include the obvious, like, roger’s execution and subsequent effect on in-world culture and society and whatever. but also things like the destruction of ohara (which was in his home sea), the founding of the world power known as the revolutionary army (which was about 20yrs ago), and the births of every other member of his crew. wack

- he seems to know about stuff related to the pirate king post time skip, and i wonder if thats because someone told him or he’s just playing along now. maybe he just thinks Luffy made up the term pirate king cuz it sounds cool and he wants to support his captain’s interests

- if he DID ask though, like, who did he ask? his managers? did he pull aside some fan asking for an autograph at a concert like “hey, you look like a knowledgable young lad, mind helping me out?”

- i would love to be there when someone takes the time to explain roger, the pirate king, raffle, the One Piece.... and Brook asks them “what is the One Piece?”.... and someone has to look him in the eye (...or not) and tell him “i don't know”

- Brook has technically died of fright (his soul left his body), like... at least once? it was luffy’s fault

- Brook was an urban legend on the florian triangle and i doubt he even knows that about himself

- when they're heading to fishmen island Brook gets all scared when they encounter a possible ghost ship and Usopp slaps him

- when captured by big mom he sleeps so godamn soundly and securely that he is harder to wake up than she is and this fact nearly gets a bunch of his crew killed

- Brook is the only character i can think of who has ever broken the fourth wall. he only did it once. maybe seeing the afterlife means he now knows hes in a manga. or maybe being isolated for 50 years just made his head be not screwed on right

- speaking of, there’s a bit in WCI at the wedding where Brook is decapitated. i don't know how it goes in the anime, but in the manga like... no one is shown to have decapitated him. his head just pops off. maybe he was just having fun

- also the bit where he rips the fake face off in wci. when someone calls him gross he cries

- there’s a bit in fishmen island where Brook is trying to ask Nami if he can see her panties (disgusting bastard) and he inadvertently protects her from being dehydrated by some guy they were fighting. except the panel setup reminds me a lot of / mimics ace protecting Luffy from Akainu, and it haunts me

- speaking of bits from fishmen island that haunt me, there's a page where it’s strongly implied Brook fucked a mermaid (maybe two). i will of course include the page here

- yeah. sorry.

- when Brook first meets the strawhats he invites himself inside because “it’s cold out!” but he later admits in punk hazard that he cant feel cold. he was just lying

- no one introduces himself to Brook except Luffy for the entirety of thriller bark

- half related, Franky cradles Brook in his arms / carries Brook around for like a full scene in thriller bark

- there's a link two second bit in film gold where the crew is just relaxing while they're planning for how they're going to get Zoro back and they're all shown eating burgers from pirate mcdonalds or whatever. and Brook is eating a burger and hes so messy that hes got burger on his forehead, and Franky is next to him just looking at him

- Brook also wears fake skin in that movie

- Brook has a running gag where he gets upset when things refuse to eat him and i was going to make a joke about it but im wondering if maybe hes just afraid of being left behind........ made myself sad again

- he cries when a dragon won't eat him tho

- Brook admits to reading monster hentai when talking to Sanji and Kin’emon and if i have to be burdened with knowing that so do you

- when hes trying to figure out the weakness of the zombies on thriller bark he overhears one ate a salted fish and lost its shadow and immediately assumes “oh, must have been the fish!” idiot man

- where does his sword cane go when hes not using it. it just appears. where does he store it

- there's a bit where the strawhats all use a combo attack at thriller bark and the first step is firing an electrically charged Brook in a slingshot through oars/oz. he ends up in a wall and no one ever pulls him out. i don't even think the manga shows how he got down

- enemies post time skip regularly assume Brook is dead when they manage to knock the crew out and it makes me wonder how popular of a rock star Brook actually was

- Brook goes on a mini rant to no one while they're descending to fisherman island where he wonders aloud how he sees without eyes and it makes me lose it

- this isn't Brook technically but Nekomamushi is based on a song Brook’s voice actor wrote about his cat.

- Brook literally doesn't have a brain. like i know we all know that but its so fucking funny. we make jokes about other strawhats only having one braincell or whatever but Brook straight up 100% just has a seashell where his brain is supposed to be

- why does he have rubber glove looking hands when hes haunting the castle at wano i fucking hate them

- relatedly, there’s a bit where Brook mentions he’s been, at kinemon’s interaction, sitting in a well for like... possibly days? is he okay

- honestly i love everything about Brook’s actions as a ghost in wano bc its so fucking funny but my FAVORITE fact is that Brook is in the wikipedia article about starving skeletons

im leaving you with that. appreciate ur local skeleton today

#brook #soul king brook #One Piece #my posts #ridiculous lists #zaria dont look #long post #this is like a condensed version of what its like to follow me pn twitter i think #i could probs add more but i wont

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lebrookestore · 2 years

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Okay I saw that skz hate page carrd the anon said and I'd just like to clarify it out:

1) Jim crow pose: many black stays themselves have said that it was just a ploy for an skz anti to create drama right before kingdom (again. I'm not black so please take my vouch for it with a grain of salt, this is purely based on what I've seen OTHER black stays talking about). He again, apologised for this whole heartedly on bubble for a video that was released about 3 years ago.

2) hyunjin blackface : they publicly apologised for it and their apology can be still found on their insta acc

3) lgbtqphobes: a female stay had vced with chan for a famneet and told him about her girlfriend, which he wholeheartedly supported. They have constantly shown support to the LGBTQ+ community in their lives which you can check yourselves.

About the durans and seungmins comment: i cannot comment on these since I haven't witnessed these at all, so I'd rather not put out any wrong information. However in that carrd, the durag they're talking about (and this is coming from an Indian) looks like a cap with a scarf behind it and now a way a durag is usually tied, then again I could be wrong so please don't attack me behind the legitmacy of this claim. I do not claim to be sure about this.

Now ik you might say “oh just because they apologised it doesn't make it alright! They've done it multiple times and that's wrong !!” it's really interesting to note that a lot of this drama comes from when they were in their early debuting years (1st year or even way predebut like hans case). It's really up to the affected party to accept their apologies or not, but the thing is that every idol group makes mistakes

To make myself quite clear: I am NOT defending skz. I am very openly admitting that they've done wrong stuff. But we all do. And people who implement criticism and change? That's who i think are good people. Both nct and skz have appropriated cultures, made mistakes, apologised for it and learned from their mistakes. And I really don't think it's a good idea to pedestalise idols to the point where we don't see them as humans who can make errors from time to time, especially not considering the people who manage them.

Once again, I am not defending them or any group who has behaved this way. But i just figured this was an interesting discussion to participate in! If any of my comments or claims were wrong or inaccurate, I apologise in advance!! Just wanted to throw two cents of my opinion. And I quite agree with the claim of, not that anon, but the carrd page they linked to latching onto the few negative sides of a group to build hate. There's no established group who hasn't committed a mistake in their career ever, or at least there are very few gems. But really, I don't think it's fair to shit on idols and pedestalise them to the point where we don't give them room for improvement whatsoever.

Jsjsjs this got long,,,, sorry brooke 😔 signing off with my emoji again cuz I don't want to experience attacks, this is just my contribution to the discussion.

— 🌆

my gosh bestie i didn't even see the emoji at the bottom but i knew who it was the moment i read the first two paragraphs🧍‍♀️ but yes, i agree with this, i looked into the matter later and have found all their apologies and stuff, which is really grate!! and yes, every group makes mistakes because they're humans and humans make mistakes!! it really isnt fair to 'cancel' and shit on them because of this, esp if they've apologized! thank u bestie for this contribution is it very appreciated<3

#dawnie<3

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lgbtqreads · 3 years

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Hey, I love you account! Do you have any recommendations for f/f books where there is a bit of an age gap or where there is a power dynamic such as student/professor or boss/subordinate....I just finished Ask, Tell by E J Noyes and it was amazing, so now I’m looking for something similar

Sure! All of these fit that with either an age gap, an uneven power dynamic, or both:

After Mrs Hamilton by Clare Ashton

Who’d Have Thought by G. Benson

Seasons of Love by Harper Bliss

If You Kiss Me Like That by Harper Bliss (Amz)

The Blush Factor by Gun Brooke

Pages for You by Sylvia Brownrigg

The Mystic Marriage by Heather Rose Jones (Historical)

The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith

At Her Feet by Rebekah Weatherspoon

The Brutal Truth by Lee Winter

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thevoilinauttheory · 3 years

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Five Senses - Kokhjin Qalli

[ thank you yet again @starforger for the tag and patience! 😄 this time’s for kokhjin! ]

[R U L E S ] Bold always. Italicize sometimes. Strikeout nope. Tag some friends to play along! & don’t forget to repost, instead of reblog!

[ S I G H T ]: ⁕ lilac tinted twilight ⁕ brackish waters ⁕ dew drops ⁕ coils of steam ⁕ sunflowers ⁕ shooting stars ⁕ crisp green apples ⁕ stacked bookshelves ⁕ dirty apron ⁕ pearls and sapphires ⁕ apricot sunsets ⁕ doe eyes ⁕ blood-stained bandages ⁕ silver clouds across a crescent moon ⁕ freshly fallen snow ⁕ spilled ink ⁕ brass buckles ⁕ scarlet ribbons ⁕ blush ⁕ sepia ⁕ emerald moss ⁕ budding roses ⁕ stormy violet skies ⁕

[ S O U N D ]: ⁕ haunting strings ⁕ birdcalls in the morning ⁕ clashing steel ⁕ low, dirty bass ⁕ squealing tyres ⁕ whistling kettle ⁕ whip crack ⁕ stilettos on slate ⁕ crackling logs ⁕ gospel singers ⁕ hushed whispers ⁕ hoof beats ⁕ rustling leaves ⁕ stillness & silence ⁕ soprano arias ⁕ burbling brooks ⁕ grandfather clock ⁕ twinkling wind chimes ⁕ rooster crowing at dawn ⁕ bubbling pots ⁕ stacking coins ⁕ rain on window panes ⁕ smokey jazz ⁕

[ T A S T E ]: ⁕ whipped cream ⁕ blood orange ⁕ merlot & chocolate ⁕ tobacco ⁕ mint & lime ⁕ warm milk with cinnamon ⁕ wasabi ⁕ rare steak ⁕ crusty bread ⁕ liquorice ⁕ pickled onions ⁕ fresh mozzarella ⁕ petit fours & tea cakes ⁕ cognac ⁕ bergamot tea ⁕ sparkling wine ⁕ olive tapenade ⁕ fresh peach cobbler ⁕ smoked paprika ⁕ clear spring water ⁕ sticky rice ⁕ roasted garlic ⁕ toffee apples ⁕

[ T O U C H ]: ⁕ tight leather ⁕ balmy summer breeze ⁕ old gold filigree ⁕ lacquered tabletops ⁕ delicate lace ⁕ crystal glass ⁕ rough canvas ⁕ sheer, diaphanous silk ⁕ high collar ⁕ suspenders & straps ⁕ bare feet on grass ⁕ warm wool blankets ⁕ candle wax ⁕ hot springs in winter ⁕ living wood ⁕ thick, dark satin ⁕ silver buttons ⁕ bone dice ⁕ dirt under fingernails ⁕ soft feathers ⁕ loose beads ⁕ worn pages ⁕ bruises & scars ⁕

[ tfw you realize maybe a character wasn’t made for a certain meme lmao - there’s not much to him really in this one. ]

#tagged answers #about: Kokhjin Qalli #that's all the queues for now #time to die for the night

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casualcatte · 3 years

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[RP Memery] The Five Senses: Gospel Lightfaith

[R U L E S ] Bold always. Italicize sometimes. Strikeout nope. Tag some friends to play along! & don’t forget to repost, instead of reblog! or if ur doing it with two OCs, just use Bold for one and Italics for the other (´-ω-)

[ S C E N T ]: ⁕ lavender ⁕ lemon zest ⁕ cigar smoke ⁕ heady sandalwood ⁕ faint musk ⁕ raspberries ⁕ fresh-picked herbs ⁕ vanillin ⁕ dragon’s blood or cinnabar ⁕ fresh coffee ⁕ sea salt & spray ⁕ fir trees ⁕ sulfur & flint ⁕ charcoal ⁕ jasmine ⁕ baked bread ⁕ petrichor ⁕ coconut butter ⁕ honey ⁕ baby powder ⁕ decaying leaves ⁕ patchouli ⁕ clean sheets ⁕ Tagged by: @steelharp :: Thanks for the tag, you two! Tagging: Oh, Tumblr was so late in notifying me that I even had this that I don’t even know who to tag. So if you’re reading this and want to do the thing, please do and tag me in it so I can come see your responses!

#rp memery #rp memes #memes asks and things

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holy-hyuck · 4 years

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Hocus Pocus, Please Focus!

Trying to make a sleeping potion for your parents so you and your best friend can sneak out to a senior party is only ever good in theory; especially since Lee Felix really sucks at being a wizard.

Pairing: Wizard!Lee Felix x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Genre: Comedy, Platonic relationship

Warnings: A dead rat?

happy halloween y’all!!!

“Is that a dead rat?” Felix questions just as you enter his parents’ office. He picks up the rodent by its tail, inspecting the bloody ball of fur, and you nearly gag as he dangles it in front of your face.

“Don’t look at me like that! It’s that bloody book of yours that called for it,” you tell him as he puts it back in the box you brought it to him in. “Why do we need it anyway?”

The freckled boy wipes his hands on a rag. “Because-” he picks up the small book, bound in scarlet-red leather, “-it’s in the recipe for a sleeping potion. For our parents. Well, more specifically mine, but you get the point.”

He drops the book back on the table and returns to mixing the liquid inside a small, store-bought cauldron. He said a pot would do but Felix’s just extra like that.

“Have you ever considered, I don’t know...asking them to let us go to this Halloween party?”

Felix shrieks in laughter as an answer, causing you to roll your eyes. “Yeah, and then I’ll ask them for a million dollars.”

“Don’t be silly.” You plop down on a chair. “They’re more likely to give you the money.”

Your eyes lock and you smile at each other. You roll on the office chair towards the table, grabbing the leather book and opening it. A faint smell of roses hits your nostrils, and you trace the pressed flowers with the pads of your fingers. They’re imprinted onto the pages and the covers, and you feel delighted every time Felix lets you even touch that book. He doesn’t trust you any more than he trusts himself, and he’s a shit wizard, so that’s saying enough.

Hearing a plop, you look up to the grimace on Felix’s face.

“The rat?”

“The rat indeed.” He takes the book out of your hands despite the frown it causes on your face. “Eighteen drops of coffee, locust twigs and weeping leaves, lemon juice, hydrochloric acid, and a dead rat.” He sighs. “Well, if they don’t fall asleep after this, they’ll probably drop dead.”

“And we’ll get to go to Brooke’s party! Yay!” you exclaim, urging your best friend to finish the sleeping potion. Only two more hours until the party starts, and you still needed to iron your outfit.

You watch Felix chant, eyes flicking back and forth between the bubbling liquid and the book in his trembling hand. A large bubble pops, creating a vile sound and smell, and despite Felix’s chanting, the bubbling stops.

“Great, it’ll fart them to death at this point.” You turn and grab a newspaper, sending it flying at your friend’s hand. You miss, and it falls into the cauldron.

“Look what you’ve done,” Felix cries and fishes it out but there’s only half of the paper there; the ridges are burnt off, black liquid dripping off of them. “On the contrary...”

“Hocus pocus, Felix, focus!”

Felix groans at your words as you shoot him a stupid grin, ushering him to continue. As much fun as you're having - and, let's be honest, it's not every day you get to witness Felix's failed attempts at magic - the clock is ticking, and the last time your friend's parents found him doing magic without supervision, his voice sounded like Mickey Mouse for a week straight. Yes, you do have evidence. And yes, you are planning on using it as blackmail.

"Okay, done," Felix alerts you after about five more minutes, closing the book and setting it down, then adding, "I think."

You sigh. "So much thinking from you today, Felix, I'm proud."

He smacks you on the head with the half-burnt newspaper as both of you gather around the table, inspecting the liquid swimming inside the cauldron. Felix takes a long wooden spoon - the one you used last night to stir mac and cheese - and moves the liquid around. It comes out thick in consistency, like syrup, except it's dark green and when you look at it in the artificial light, you see specks of glitter.

The boy brings it up to his lips and you look at him, incredulous.

"What if it works and you fall asleep?"

“What do you mean 'what if'? You really have that little faith in me?" The look you give Felix answers his question. "Besides, they need a bigger dose for it to work on them, don't worry."

He offers you some and you reluctantly lick some liquid off the spoon. It tastes tangy, like when you add too much salt to your tomato salad and the taste is so overwhelming it leaves you swimming and drowning in sodium. Well, at least it doesn't taste like a dead rat...not that you know what that tastes like.

"Okay, you get this ready and I will get myself ready. Expect me here in an hour. Don't screw things up." And with your words of encouragement, you leave Felix to do his thing.

The good thing about the large glass embedded into Felix’s front doors is that you can check yourself out whilst waiting for the boy to haul his ass downstairs, admiring the black-and-gold short robe reaching your mid-thighs, with a giant hood and some old, lace-up boots with the crispy remains of mud still atop.

The bad thing about the large glass embedded into Felix’s front doors is that when you lean forward to check you have nothing between your teeth and start using your fingers as a toothpick when you notice doughnut remains wedged between the two top incisors, is the exact time Felix decides to open the door to his house, leaving you looking like a freak of nature by choice.

“Gross,” he comments but locks the doors behind him promptly and changes the subject. “They’re out cold. These potions work for up to six hours but-”

“-with your magic?” you interrupt.

“-I wouldn’t count on it,” he finishes up, giving you a death glare.

Just before you enter your car, you clock the blue, black, and white tunic over the thinnest leggings you’ve ever seen draped over Felix’s body and you shiver at the thinness of the material. Isn’t he cold?

“Is that your actual hat?” you question after you start your car and make your way to Brooke’s summer house, and Felix adjusts the pointy hat on his head.

“Yep, and look at this-”

“I can’t look, I’m in a- Is that your ring? Your actual magic ring? Lix, your parents are gonna cut off your fingers and feed them to squirrels if they find out you’ve taken it outside without their supervision. I mean, you’ve already been doing magic without them knowing, and used a sleeping potion on them, and- and-”

You hear Felix snort.

“Relax. They’re sleeping, and we get to sneak out. That’s all that matters. Besides, I got you something too.”

Finally parking your car in front of a medium-sized house, you get out and rush to your friend’s side. “What’s that?”

“It’s a magic mirror. It’s connected to every mirror in my house, so we’ll see if my parents wake up, so then we can change our names and flee the country. I want you to keep hold of it.” He pushes the small mirror into your hand and you pocket it inside the rather humongous pockets of your robe.

You thought it’d be ironic if you dressed up as a witch because...well...you know. Felix is a wizard? No? But then Felix decided to do the same and you already know you’re never gonna hear the end of the comments from your classmates.

Well, here comes what you’ve been waiting for.

About an hour into the party you’re already tipsy but you expected nothing less going into this. Felix is nowhere to be found, although to be fair, it’s not like you bothered looking for him. He’s probably with Seungmin, Jisung and Hyunjin - his other friends from a book club he promises isn’t as nerdy as it sounds - and up to no good, as always. The last time you left them unsupervised because you couldn’t stand being around Jisung for any longer than necessary, Seungmin’s hair was neon green, and Hyunjin had a bald patch at the back of his head. It was fun being a witness of their stupidity instead of a victim for once.

You walk outside to enjoy the fresh air, into a grand garden decorated with white fairy lights. It’s so beautiful you actually let out a gasp as you admire the work put into it until the sight of the pool makes you sober up on the spot. The pool is small and at first, you think the water’s just unfiltered, giving it its green hue.

But then you feel it; the sticky substance beneath your feet as it makes the most obnoxious sound you’ve ever heard when you lift up your foot. The dark goo travels across the tiles and the grass only to end up in the pool, staining the water green.

It looks...stupidly like what you and your best friend have given your parents - and at that realisation, your eyes widen and you scurry back inside to find Felix.

“Lix, there you are,” you say after good ten minutes of searching, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

He turns to you with the smuggest grin plastered on his face as he hands you a drink.

“I’ve heard this new energy drink kicks ass. Try it.” He ushers you to take a sip and you do, alongside him. It does taste nice, almost like pink lemonade, and you find yourself drinking the whole cup before you know it.

“Where did you get it from?”

“Oh, someone gave it to me.” You slap his arms, causing him to yelp. “What on earth was that for?!”

“Felix! What idiot accepts drinks from a stranger?”

“The one that wants to have-” he stops himself, getting dangerously close to your face, so much you can clearly see his freckles, “-fun. Ever heard of that?”

You push him away with a shove to his stomach, eliciting a laugh. “Whenever you have fun, someone ends up paying the price, Felix.”

You look over to him and brush away some orange hairs from his cheek, only to find them stuck to his skin. You shrug it off.

“Oh, I remember now!”

Without another word, you drag him into the garden, and he spills a bit of his drink in the process.

“What am I looking at exactly?” he questions when you finally stop, motioning to the pool, which brandishes clear water much to your surprise.

"What the..."

You both jump up at the loud thud behind you and whip around to see a body dumped on the ground. You feel like throwing up, clutching Felix's hand, which is...hairy?

Looking down, you notice more of those ginger hairs growing on the back of his hand and you jerk your own hand away.

"How does that feel?"

You hear a female voice alongside a deep laugh and slow clapping. From the shadows of the trees surrounding the garden, Felix's parents emerge, and suddenly you feel yourself sinking into the ground, knowing it won't be long before you join your friend on the floor behind you.

"Mum!" Felix yelps. "Dad! What are you doing here?"

"Well you see, your dad and I were planning to have a movie night but it seems like we took a little nap. Must be something to do with that wretched slime you slipped in our drinks."

"There was a bit of a branch in there, have you noticed, love?" his father interjects, pulling out a familiar book from behind his back. "Eighteen drops of coffee, locust wings and weeping leaves, lemon juice, hydro-"

"W-wings?" Felix stutters out and you observe him for a second before the realisation seeps in.

"Fucking wings," you mutter under your breath so his parents don't hear.

"Yes, I do believe the spell calls for locust wings, but you always were bad at grammar son." His dad smiles. "So anyway, after we woke up, we saw the house number through that magic mirror I believe you gave your friend."

"Um, (y/n)." Felix traces his finger down your cheek with wide eyes, and you do the same, the feeling of roughness underneath your fingertips.

Taking out your phone, you look at the dark reflection on the screen and gasp in horror. The green and yellow scales reach all the way up to your eye, which begins turning a fiery orange colour. You blink your slit pupils and drop your phone in shock.

"I hope you enjoyed your drinks tonight, by the way. We added something special. You'll find out in the next hour anyway. Or, well, sort of."

The adults laugh, and you look to Felix's arm, now covered with thick orange fur.

"That should serve both of you a reminder not to perform magic unsupervised. Because you, Lee Felix, aren't very good at it." His mother comes up to him and pats his hairy cheek. "At least you'll make a cute weasel."

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