#DJ Persona Non Grata
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2022
1/9 Merry New Year @Knock koenji
2/11 Hideout #5 @LIVEHAUS
2/12 Sahara
2/16 PROJECT HAKAI @町田CLASSIX
3/19 Blooming @BB STREET
3/20 JUST FOR KICKS @BB STREET
3/26 Persona non Grata #01 @SPREAD
4/2 Warfare @Another Dimension
4/15 Marudashi Carnival @clubasia
4/16 Tokyo Hard Dance @clubasia
4/17 SUPERHERO @Cream
4/29 お嬢様DJ部 @Another dimension
5/14 Nukrib #16 @新宿ドゥースラー
5/21 kovacroom @LIVEHAUS
6/12 160120 @Cream
6/17 零 @clubasia
7/10 LET THERE BE PUNK @ GAME
7/16 Township Rebellion @三島ゴリラハウス
7/16 Smokin Rhythm @ R-Lounge
7/23 Nukrib #17 @新宿ドゥースラー
7/29 Worthwhile @大塚音楽館
8/6 みんなのきもち @六本木cube
8/21 A NEW ERA OF EDEN @新宿EDEN
8/27 Persona non Grata #02 @ SPREAD
9/1 Back To Chill @contact
9/3 Turing @LIVEHAUS
9/7 BS0 Extra @contact
9/10 Hideout #6 @LIVEHAUS
9/24 BLOODAXE FESTIVAL @CLUB CITTA
10/9 UPRISING @小田原娑麗人
10/15 Lenzman Japan Tour @Circus Tokyo
10/20 めいだぼラウンジ @新宿ドゥースラー
11/9 PROJECT HAKAI @町田CLASSIX
11/18 Sound Drown @clubasia
11/18 frost @koara
11/19 ALTURA @Cream
11/26 GROW THE CULTURE@おおばキャンプ村
12/2 Crystal Lake ボーカルオーディション @新宿Antiknock
12/3 Super sharp shooter @新宿ドゥースラー
12/4 Otusレコ発
12/17 Color Of Daybreak @BB STREET
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❛ who needs them. we can have fun on our own. ❜ { from music!ben }
True Blue || Accepting
The look on her face is nothing short of hilarious, from the long slow blink and the near swan-crane of her neck. From the bouncers to Ben and back she tilts her head to one side and very quietly and in perfect English says, "Excuse me, what?"
Big bald Mr Clean with his gold hoop earring and his muscled arms folded across his chest shifts a little on his feet, positioning himself better between her and the rope. "I said you're not on the list, sweetheart, which means you and your boyfriend aren't getting in."
She doesn't know what's more offensive. Whether it's not being allowed into the club ~not that it was an imperative, it's new and the real reason she'd talked Ben into coming along in the first place is that one of her favourite DJs is on hand tonight~ or the fact that they simply assumed that there was something romantic between Ben and herself. Truth be told, she's not used to either one happening. Being turned down or being accused of…she glances at Ben and tries not to look so ridiculous. And when green clashes with obsidian ~a false hue, in the dark~ he mouths what he does. There doesn't need to be volume, not when she can watch the way his lips form the words. The hint of teeth, sharp and prominent and really quite pretty.
Beth slips an arm around his back, a fist at the small of his back and then pivots outward, turning her back on the bouncers. But before they are completely out of sight, she turns back, catches Mr Clean's eye and flicks her tongue out at him. Childish yes, but much cleaner than the dozen or so nasty things she could have said.
"Can't tell if ya savin' face f' bo'd of us, or if ya serious about us havin' more fun on our own. I'm incline t' believe it was more da former raddah dan da latter. So, in light of us bein' persona non grata, wha' did you have in mind? We gonna find out where dey live an break in, rearrange all dey furniture, an' hire street t'ugs t' steal dey tires, or…"
She can't help but grin even if it's cloaked in a shrug. Which allows her to change tack. "I'm sorry dey got dat idea about us. Sweet of you not t' laugh or deny it."
There are pitfalls ensconced between those words. Outwardly reassuring, but beneath are treacheries of truth. Ben is famous because of his talent. For the things he made and gave to the world. Things that hold beauty and meaning and solace for those that heard it, embraced it, let it ~the music and Ben alike~ become a part of them, and in turn they become a part of everyone else who experienced that art in their own ways. There's a poetry there that to Beth defies word. It becomes a concept like space and love and humanity.
She's only known because sometime in the distant pass there were breathless, soulless ancestors of hers who subjugation and pillaged and shape and stole and plagued…everything they could touch. They broke the spirit of lesser people and raised themselves up on the dais of those lesser backs. A self perpetuating habit passed from generation to generation. In the much nearer idea of now, her mother had been one such conquest. And the Admiral despises her for being a living effigy of his disgrace. Slumming with the help, he calls it in his bitterness. But she ~Beth~ still has the name. The money. The illusion of its power.
"So…You got somet'ing else in mind? What's your idea of fun?"
#Mahalo!K <3333#Smile Like Film Noir|Ben Solo#Lonely As a Ghost Town|Ben and Beth#Between Blues We Can't Name|Music!Verse#Brooklyn Stories|New York
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(DJ Persona Non Grata)
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# 3,526
Summer 2020 Mixtape.
Look Blue Go Purple “Grace”
Hit Parade, The “Harvey”
Fritz “Ghost Poke”
Snarls “What’s It Take”
Girl In Red “Rushed Lover”
Cigarettes After Sex “Young and Dumb”
RVG “I Used To Love You”
Mr. Elevator “Down”
Tempers “Capital Pains”
Jade Imagine “Big Old House”
Chasms “Tears In The Morning Sun”
Shopping “For Your Pleasure”
cumgirl8 “Hourglass”
Stuck “Era”
Blue Ray “Choir Of Angels”
Bikini Body “So Posh”
Space Above “Stolen Days”
Tops “Seven Minutes”
Automatic “Damage”
Serfs, The “Persona Non Grata”
Diat “Sinkhole”
Widowspeak “Breadwinner”
Emma Ruth Rundle “Light Song”
Empathy Test “Monsters”
Parrot Dream “The Best”
Jade Imagine “Remote Control”
Braids “Eclipse (Ashley)”
Parlor Walls “Lunchbox”
Wye Oak “Fortune”
Black Marble “Bigger Than Life”
Widowspeak “Money”
Charli XCX “Cross You Out” (f. Sky Ferreira)
Chvrches “Forever”
Pink Gloves “Wilderness” (INS)
Grimes & i_O “Violence”
In A Dramatic Gesture “Basic Aerobic”
J. Zunz “Four Women And Darkness”
Alchemist & Schoolboy Q “W.Y.G.D.T.N.S.”
Masta Ace & Marco Polo “Breukelen Brooklyn”
Smoke DZA & Benny The Butcher “7:30” (f. Westside Gunn)
Alchemist “Fork In The Pot” (f. Conway & Schoolboy Q & Westside Gunn)
D.I.T.C. “Jugganots” (f. O.C. & L’il Fame)
Mike (Bonema) “Ipari”
Ripple “Victorious”
Weldon Irvine “We Gettin’ Down”
Clement Djimogne “Africa”
Eddie Russ “Zaius”
Sphinx “Horizons”
DJ 3D “How Many Ways” (Refreshers RMX)
Progeny “Wet Dreams”
Kevin Richard Martin & Hatis Noit “After The Storm”
MCL / Micro Chip League “New York, New York (Midnight)”
Cabaret Voltaire “Diskono” (alt.)
Cabaret Voltaire “Why Kill Time When You Can Kill Yourself?
#omega#music#mixtapes#reviews#playlists#indie#d.i.y.#post-punk#shoegaze#hip-hop#electronic#jazz#fusion#pop#Charli XCX#Chvrches#Grimes#Alchemist#Griselda#Smoke DZA#Cigarettes After Sex#Girl In Red#Diat#Bikini Body#Black Marble#Emma Ruth Rundle
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DJ Head Trauma is the Persona Non Grata that represents the Urban/Club/Industrial EDM/Hip Hop/Trip Hop aspect of Mood Disorder-Dark Heart Dystopia's Remix Music… Mood Disorder is the previous Incarnation of Dark Heart Dystopia from 1992 to 2003. Dark Gothic Electro Industrial Music by Mood Disorder. Remixed by Dark Heart Dystopia. Vocals by Drako Dark Syde.
#Gothic#Dark Music#Industrial Electronic Music#Evil Music#Mood Disorder#Dark Heart Dystopia#DJ Head Trauma#DJ Dark Martyr#Electronic Music#EBM
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On September 4th, Mike Chase and Amy Faust — morning show hosts for the country station KWJJ in Portland, Oregon — cued up Taylor Swift’s “Soon You’ll Get Better,” a quietly resilient acoustic ballad featuring the Dixie Chicks.
“It’s a song about her own mother struggling with cancer,” Chase explains. “We played the song and also posted it on our Facebook page. One woman [commented by saying] her grandmother had died ten minutes prior to us playing it. And right after that, some guy goes, ‘I guess it would be better if Taylor wasn’t ramming her politics down my throat.’ We thought, ‘wow: what a study in extremes.'”
The Dixie Chicks have been a third rail in country radio ever since they said that they did not support President Bush’s decision to invade Iraq in 2003. “We’re ashamed the president of the United States is from Texas,” singer Natalie Maines said onstage in London. They were staples of the format before their comments and personae non gratae immediately after. Looking back now, country radio’s decision to exile the Dixie Chicks seems to presage the current political moment. “That was kind of the beginning of the cancel culture that we have now,” Chase says.
But the group quietly snuck back into the format this month as Swift’s backing vocalists. This is all the more surprising considering that Swift’s label is not promoting the song to country radio — program directors rarely take the initiative to play music that isn’t being pushed to them — and Swift publicly left country five years ago to head to pop’s richer pastures. Still, country radio played “Soon You’ll Get Better” 36 times in Lover‘s debut week, and seven more times the week after.
The biggest booster of Swift and the Dixie Chicks’ collaboration in country radio has been Johnny Chiang, Director of Operations for Cox Media Group Houston; KKBQ, which he oversees, plays “Soon You’ll Get Better” three times a day. Chiang has a reputation for painting outside the lines — KKBQ was also a supporter of Kacey Musgraves, though most of country radio ignored her.
“Why are we playing [‘Soon You’ll Get Better’]?” Chiang asks. “Simple reason: It’s a great song. If Taylor was still in country, we would have 100 stations adding it out of the box. So I don’t care that the song is not being worked to country.”
Chase feels similarly. “It makes all kind of sense [to play this],” he says. “Taylor’s great at making a song and a hook; the sentiment is sincere; she has her own history with country, and there’s the connection to the Dixie Chicks. It should be a song that country radio plays full time.”
(In addition to KWJJ and KKBQ, stations in Salt Lake City and Baltimore played “Soon You’ll Get Better” once apiece. Neither station responded to requests for comment. A rep for the Dixie Chicks also did not respond to a request for comment on the group’s country airplay.)
But country radio devotees have long memories. And this is especially true in Chiang’s market, Houston, where George W. Bush spent his teen years. “After just four plays of the song, we had several complaints from listeners,” Chiang says. “They weren’t complaining about the song — they were complaining about the Dixie Chicks.”
“You can’t even tell [they’re on the song],” Chiang adds. “The backing vocals are so benign you can barely hear them.” But when his DJs identified the singers, listeners were still angry enough to pick up the phone.
https://youtu.be/tMoW5G5LU08
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Portland’s reaction to “Soon You’ll Get Better” has been more mild. KWJJ did not ban the Dixie Chicks back in 2003 — though their cross-town rival did — and the station still plays some of the group’s classic hits.
Perhaps as a result, the majority of the Facebook responses to Swift’s collaboration with the Dixie Chicks were enthusiastic. “Most people said either, ‘It’s so beautiful, it reminds me of something that happened to me,’ or, ‘I almost can’t listen to this all the way through, because it’s hitting so close to home,'” Faust explains. “I don’t like the idea of just taking one [irate] guy and giving that [opinion] too much power. He was one out of 75.”
In Houston, Chiang is closely monitoring the number of angry calls prompted by “Soon You’ll Get Better.” “We’re gonna keep an eye on that,” he says. But he is aiming to play “Soon You’ll Get Better” a few times every day for roughly a month, at which point KKBQ will have enough data to accurately determine how its audience is responding to the track. “My goal is to get this damn thing charted [on the airplay chart],” Chiang says, “even with no one working it.”
ts1989fanatic the good old USA home of free speech unless you disagree with what others are saying.
I thought what The Dixie Chicks went through the first time around was bullshit and appreciated @taylorswift trying to give them a comeback chance.
And thank goodness for some in country radio with the balls to stand up and be counted I applaud you Mr. Chiang.
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[Overwatch] Hold your tongue 3/? (T, Akande/Lucio, 3.6k)
Hold your tongue, Chapter 3/? (Can also be read on AO3)
Doomfist | Akande Ogundimu / Lúcio Correia dos Santos (M)
Chapters 1 / 2 / 3 | Ceasefire Masterlist
To move forward, you must first look back.
-3 months ago-
“You know what this is?”
Hana squints at the tiny, circular container Lúcio holds up to her eye. Fitting small and neat in her palm, she pokes at the smooth, clear glass. Her voice is bright with conspiracy and triumph. “Omnic DNA.”
Lúcio arches an eyebrow. “Wha? Uh… maybe. I don’t… hmm… well.” He studies it closely, rubbing his chin in thought. He doesn’t think it’s based on omnic designs, but his homegrown knowledge of electrical engineering is passable, at best. He shakes the device in its case. “It’s a homing beacon. Tracker. I didn’t notice it ‘til we got back to base, and Athena’s alarms went off.”
Hana’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “It’s not one of yours?” At Lúcio’s shake of his head, she leans in for a closer look, mouth pensive. “Where did you get it?”
“You remember that friend we met today?”
Hana blinks at him. “Mister Mask? Or Mister Fist?”
Lúcio gives her a significant look, mouth tugging into a small smirk.
His new friend stares at him blankly. “I don’t know what that means.”
Lúcio flexes his arm, hand balling into a fist. Hana giggles at his exaggerated smirk, hiding her mouth behind her hand. It’s a good likeness. “I think someone just left me an invitation,” Lúcio explains, without explaining much of anything. Especially how the prospect makes his blood thrum at the challenge.
When Doomfist and Reaper made their stunt-worthy exit from Unity Plaza that afternoon, Lúcio thought that could be the last he would see of them, unless 76 decided to extend an olive branch while the DJ was still in town. That was unlikely, from what Lúcio gauged of the stern, proud soldier.
Lúcio wasn’t supposed to be there.
“Girl, we talked about this when I last saw you in London – Vishkar, the amplifier.” Lúcio had waved over his shoulder when the call came in, as though to gesture at all the things he’d resigned to leave with Rio when he went on tour. “That’s all done. I’m helping people another way now.”
Lena steamrolled on with her encouraging, sunny smile. Shrugging, like she was asking him to ‘pop down to the shops for some milk, luv’. “You’d be in our backlines as support,” she had said, “If anyone catches this on video, you’d be well out of range.”
Out of range? “You expecting a fight? I thought you said this was just an escort. And why can’t you hire private security for this?”
She hummed in consideration. “No, it’s sensitive, we are the security. And I meant… more if you were worried about a media storm. You have some big names backing you. But fire fights, too, right!”
Okay, he hadn’t specifically mentioned guns, but it was good to know where Lena’s head was at.
Lúcio snorted under his breath and smiled, calm and confident. “I’m not worried about any media. After Rio, people know what I stand for.”
Lena’s shifty look was slightly bashful while she bit her lip. Was she embarrassed? “Well… perception is reality, is what they say. And we’re still sort of… persona non grata. People infer a lot by the company you keep.”
“Hey. Hey. I could never be ashamed of being seen with you. Ace pilot. Fighter for the people. Doesn’t even cheat on races. I don’t shun my friends like that.”
Lena had brightened, leaning into the camera with an excited smile. “So, you’ll come? Just this once, I promise. We could really use your help, if it doesn’t disrupt your schedule. And you can wear a disguise… all mysterious-like if it’s easier. Talk to your agent.”
“Oh I will definitely not be telling them about this.”
But three months later, Lúcio was still riding with Overwatch and his agent was still wondering why Lucio had such a large allotment of free time that was originally slated for charity work and promotions. Volunteering is how he thought of it, as Lena had apologised they couldn’t pay him for his time. Lúcio wasn’t in need of the money, and he thought of all their strange security details as work to help a friend short-handed.
His agent would have had his head if they knew how he was ‘wasting’ his time.
And sometimes, Lúcio did wonder what was really going on – why specialists and scientists as overqualified as former Overwatch personnel were protecting a film director from fears of anti-omnic violence through a Hollywood set. But it was no grief to volunteer his time and abilities to heal their minor hurts and speed up their ventures (“I knew you brought that thing with you!” Lena had crowed when Lúcio had turned up with his sonic amplifier slung over his shoulder). He genuinely enjoyed their company: Jesse had a dry, wicked sense of humour; Lena always made him smile; Winston was patient and pleased that someone was interested in his inventions; and when Hana showed up, Lúcio was starstruck. It was also the first real sign that he wasn’t the only favour Overwatch was calling in: they were recruiting fresh blood.
He’d tried playing ignorant before, and it hadn’t ended well for Rio.
Then Soldier 76 turned up with Ana at his side. Old soldiers. Lúcio could see it in the way they carried themselves, their direct and confronting manner, accustomed to authority and sharp, considered answers. A heavy, weary quiet preceded each room they entered like an augur of grief. The hysterical reaction to their appearance had been enough to humble Lúcio into a quiet corner to observe, until those two elders had turned to Overwatch’s newest recruits and asked, “And who is this?”
They had returned to lay Numbani on the table and ask for help: a supposed ceasefire to a war Lúcio didn’t even realise was raging. A chill ran down his spine when he heard the name ‘Doomfist’, and he had said ‘yes’.
It was fair time he learned what was really going on.
And of all Overwatch’s roster, Lúcio didn’t expect to be the one receiving a personal follow-up invitation. Or was it a challenge?
Hana takes the tiny container again and holds it up to the light, frowning. "So, you gonna call them?”
Lúcio shrugs, tracking the arcing glints of light off the clear glass as Hana turns it over under the pale bulbs of their hideaway. “Might drop in.”
“You can do that?”
“Who’s gonna stop me?”
It’s Hana’s turn to look skeptical, amusingly so. She thrusts both arms out to enframe the command room of agents before them, new and unfamiliar, and none the wiser for their scheming. Hana and Lúcio are both new to this strange organisation. It’s easy to bond over their youth and mutual celebrity when it’s earned them skepticism from these seasoned soldiers, scientists and… whatever McCree is.
Overwatch has co-opted this stationery re-supply store as their command centre in Numbani’s office precinct. For children who grew up hearing the legend of Overwatch and its agents, it’s sobering when they meet the shadows of its remains within abandoned buildings, reclaimed bases and crowded hotel rooms. The whole experience has been insightful: for all their humour and abilities, these people scramble to organise, and argue like every other group Lúcio has ever worked with. They’re just ordinary people.
They have more resources than Lúcio ever did when he and his crew led Rio against Vishkar, but his crew was tight. They were truly unified in common purpose.
Lena and her friends feel like they’re working from contract to contract – scattered, directionless, and united on hope for a mission nobody will speak aloud. Unstable grounds for trust or unity.
He swipes the container back from Hana, flipping it like a coin. “They’d just slow me down.”
Anyway, Lúcio is finding it hard to keep a low profile with his face plastered on banners through the whole city. At least he’d have an explanation for being seen in the streets. He reminds himself he’s only here as a favour to Lena, with his next concert not for another two days.
Hana leans in, crowding close against his shoulder. Sharing a desk in the back corner of the largely empty space, they are only half-listening with everyone else to Winston’s explanation of the storeroom of peanut butter unearthed that morning.
“Want back up?” Hana offers quietly, hopeful, angling for a cure to her boredom, but Lúcio smiles, shaking his head.
“I got this.”
///
Once he’s back in his hotel room, it’s a simple process to contact the world’s most accomplished hacker: a scrambled email to one of three watched inboxes, and then sitting back to wait. The only challenge is in earning their acknowledgement.
The video call comes less than ten minutes after Lúcio hits ‘send’.
Sombra’s face lights the heads-up display of Lúcio’s phone with her mischievous smile. Lúcio counts himself extremely lucky he gets a response each time he has reached out, that he is one of the few people in the world who knows the face behind the name. He has used her trust sparingly.
Sombra’s sing-song greeting makes him smile. “Ay, Lucito-oo-oo! La lucecita de mi noche!”
“Hola, Sombrita.” Lúcio winks, bringing up the high resolution scan and analysis of the tracker he had found tacked to his boot.
“Vishkar? Atlas? Who are we stealing from to–” Sombra’s gaze turns to the incoming image on her side. “Ooh.”
Lúcio watches her face carefully. “You lose something?”
Expression morphing to one of cooing appreciation, Sombra’s mouth purses in pleasure. “Mm, the detail on this: ‘exquisite’ as my friend would say.”
She laughs like it’s a shared private joke. Lúcio can’t help returning the smile, shaking his head. Sombra could never refrain from praising her own work, and he enjoys that about her. She is accomplished and deservedly proud of it.
On again, off again acquaintances, Lúcio hopes today that Sombra is on his side.
“A big guy from a bad place stuck this on me earlier today. What do you know about that?”
Sombra’s mouth pulls in a shrug, head tilted in consideration. “He’s not that bad.”
He frowns. Not that bad? Doomfist? The Scourge’s successor? “What makes you say that?”
“He pays me.”
Lúcio blinks, mouth falling open. Sombra… and Doomfist? His brain feels like it has split down the middle. He leans in to his monitor. “You’re working with Talon? ¿Lula, en qué pensabas? ¿No sabes quién es? ¿Sabes las cosas que hizo?”
That went against everything she was supposed to stand for! She was supposed to be independent like him! Sombra was supposed to fight for the people, not… work with the people who would destroy them!
Sombra’s playful smile sharpens like the glint of a blade, a reminder that him she will cut him loose and scour all evidence of their bond without a second thought. He clenches his jaw under the intensity of her warning gaze that bores into him through the display.
“Name me 'squid’ again, Lucero,” she dares, cool and tempered. “You called me. You want answers, you mind your mouth.”
He rankles at the butcher of his name, biting down on the aggravation lest Sombra feed on his reaction.
She points off-screen presumably where Lúcio’s tracker displays on her side. “His name is ‘Doomfist’, you already know. He ordered a set of these; a lot of interesting people passing through Numbani these days.” She straightened in her chair, turning idly on its axle to provide her full attention. “I heard your talks were interrupted.”
“Yeah.” Lúcio deflates with a scowl, still stung with disappointment. He thought there were good odds Sombra would have intel on his mark, but not that she would be working with him, consciously and voluntarily.
“Well, if you’re interested, I think it’s worth hearing what he had to say. If I turn it back on, that tracker works both ways, you know.”
He didn’t even have to ask. Sombra may be one of the greatest founts of knowledge on the planet, but Lúcio wonders if she realises her own weaknesses? She could never resist a chance to close the social gap, bring the mighty low. If she was not stepping to protect Doomfist, then the man had not earned her complete loyalty yet.
Lúcio tries not to smile, cringing instead and affecting self-doubt.
“You mean– me? Talk to… him?”
Sombra shrugs. “Why not you?”
He can’t help showing her offer for what it was. “Sounds like a trap.”
“If you’re part of Overwatch, maybe. Or you could use your independent status to do something useful.” She raises her hand and, in a few blips of lavender, the heads up display blinks. A new window pops up with a street map of Numbani. In the heart of the residential district across the city, a red icon blinks, strong and steady.
Using his independent status.
“Like you?”
Sombra shakes her head, dismissing it immediately. “I don’t make house calls.”
Lúcio studies the red blink of the icon, considering his options.
“Is he alone?” he finally asks.
“He is.” Sombra leans in, the glint in her eye turning coy. “Don’t overstay your welcome.”
Lúcio smiles at the overt suggestion in her tone. “Still looking out for me? Watch your own back, Hermanita.”
She clicks her tongue, giving him a sharp wink. “Still older than you.”
The call disconnects.
///
-Present day-
Lúcio’s arrival is heralded by the strange sound of his skates, an electro-mechanical whir that always made Akande wonder how the DJ could achieve stealth if he even tried.
Today, stealth is not the priority.
“Coming in over the wing, open the doors.”
Lúcio maneuvers through the narrow gap of the rear cargo bay doors without breaking his stride, swinging down from the roof and and inside through one fluid motion. Akande’s palm slams the controls, and the door begins to seal behind him.
Before the door is entirely shut, Lúcio is already descending the ship’s stair, not sparing Akande a second glance. It stings, but there are greater concerns on Akande’s mind, too.
“Where is she?” Lúcio demands, catching sight of Sombra’s prone form in the same breath. He bolts across the short bay and drops to his knees, swinging the pack off his back. “Ay, Sombra! ¿Soy yo, Lúcio, puedes escucharme?” The caricature of Muiraquitã on his pack immediately begins to soothe with a familiar healing song as the audio medic digs in his bag for supplies, and glances back to Akande hovering uncertainly by the stairs. “Get over here, I need your help.”
“What should I do?” Akande kneels beside him, reaching again to apply pressure on Sombra’s wound.
Sweat beads on Lúcio’s hairline, he must have pushed hard to get here so quickly. His eyes are intent on Sombra’s wound while he lifts Akande’s hand to take in the damage. “Shut up and follow my lead.”
Sombra does not respond to the motion of Akande nor Lúcio crowding around her, to the pressure of Lúcio pressing Akande’s hands back with fresh bandages, or the jerk of her body when Lúcio cuts her jacket open to check for further wounds.
“¿Sombrita?” Lúcio calls sharply, firmly patting her cheek when she still doesn’t stir. Sombra’s head lolls to the side and Lúcio curses, pulling from his bag what Akande recognises as a scanner and one of the battery packs for his sonic amplifier. It sloshes with a rich gold liquid. “Okay, wound’s clear but her color is bad,” Lúcio says, drawing Akande’s attention back to his stern expression searching Sombra’s face, so keenly focused in his work. “We’re going to close this up, and then I need your help administering a transfusion; she needs blood.”
Akande nods without hesitation. “I am a universal donor.”
“I know,” Lúcio mutters, attention focused on calibrating another tool Akande does not recognise, something that looks like a thick, elaborate pen ending in a round, tapered point. Plugging its cabled extension into his battery pack of golden liquid, it lights up with an ethereal humm. Lúcio pulls Akande’s hand away and holds the edges of Sombra’s wound apart. Golden mist threads from the hand-held device into the red cavity of her flesh, and Akande watches the wound knit back together before his eyes.
He has seen many miracles in his lifetime: from his own augmentations to the jewel of Numbani rising against the African sun, but witnessing the technology of the world-renowned Doctor Ziegler never ceases to inspire awe in him. It has a finesse that his own scientists haven’t yet achieved. Those patents, those raw tools… are worth a lot of money.
The battery back is barely tapped when the pen eclipses with a soft, high note, signaling its work complete, and Lúcio turns up the volume on the song from his pack, diving back inside. Akande offers his arm, holding the bag open with his free hand as Lúcio searches, pulling out the administration set and a pack of alcohol swabs.
“When this is done, you’re gonna explain what the hell happened here,” Lúcio growls, powering up the equipment and watching its readings before reaching for Sombra’s bared inner arm. The administration set includes a scanner that reveals the line of her veins in glowing blue tracks beneath the skin. Sombra doesn’t react when the needle sinks in and Lúcio reaches for Akande’s arm next. “I need you to stand as I give her fluids. Let gravity do its work, yeah?”
Lúcio’s assertive beside manner is reassuring and directs his focus. Akande obeys without a second thought, without even questioning if kneeling from his angle with his height provides enough downward flow or if maybe Lúcio just wants Akande to step back and give him some space.
“Hold this.”
Akande dutifully takes the clear bag of fluids and watches the intravenous line sink into his agent’s other arm. It occurs to him this is the first time he’s seen Lúcio perform his role of an audio medic. Lúcio is focused, methodical and gratefully calm under pressure.
That he was on the verge of tears not half an hour ago, feels like some other world’s reality.
“You’re good at this,” Akande murmurs.
“Had a lot of practice because of people like you,” Lúcio says, taping down the IV line to keep it steady and from falling out. Again, he doesn’t bother glancing Akande’s way.
“Don’t pity Sombra. She’s capable and proud of who she is.”
Finally Lúcio looks at him. His glare is venomous and tempers the warmth spreading in Akande’s chest. “She’s bleeding out on your floor, is what she is, Akande.”
Why is it that it only feels like Lúcio says his name when he’s unhappy? Akande scowls and nods back to Sombra. He needs to redirect their focus.
“How do you know her?”
“We have similar interests.” Lúcio snorts a laugh under his breath, studying the readings from another scanner he runs the length of Sombra’s body. “Or, I thought we did. Then she started working with you.”
Akande refrains from pointing out Lúcio’s own hypocrisy. Working together. Sleeping together. Which was worse?
“Thank you for coming,” Akande says.
Lúcio’s retort is instant. “I didn’t do it for you.”
Akande bites the inside of his cheek, stifling a sigh. What else can he do? “Will she be all right?”
Lúcio shrugs with a shake of his head, setting the scanner down by Sombra’s side, now monitoring her vital signs. It beeps with the slow rhythm of her heart rate. “Now we wait.” From his kneeling position, he cranes his neck to meet Akande’s eye far, far above him. “Good thing you’re so big. She might need a large transfusion.”
“Take what you need.”
“Count on it.” Lúcio’s jaw clenches, eyes returning to his patient while he cushions her head with his folded up jacket. And Akande believes in the moment that his former lover would gladly take the excuse to bleed him dry.
‘Former’… so soon, so soon. So bitter, Lúcio.
Clank.
Akande’s eyes leap to the ceiling of the airship. “What was that?” He lowers on his haunches, instinctively sinking into a battle ready stance.
It sounded like something hit them. Or landed.
Lúcio is already climbing to his feet, watching Sombra as though she will flatline without his attention for a bare moment. His eyes raise to Akande as he backs up towards the main ramp and his bloodied hands lift in appeal. “It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay, don’t move.”
Akande’s hackles raise at the sense of imminent threat prickling the hairs on his neck. A low growl escapes his throat at the attempt to mollify him, and the arm infusing Sombra with life-giving blood clenches to a fist, his other hand holding the clear bag of fluids against the needle firm in his arm. “What have you done?”
He watches Lúcio reach back and slap the control releasing the main ramp. The warm sea breeze rushes in, thick and humid.
“Not everything’s up to me, okay?”
He hears the easing whine of jetpacks before the figure drops from the sky like a comet of azure, wings arched, shoulders broad and proud. The surrounding pillars tremble with the force of their landing, one knee planted in the ground. They are gilded head to toe in thick armour that gleams, piercing in its polish under the early morning sun.
Akande scowls at the sharp, dark eyes that find him under the helm of their golden beak. He shifts minutely to place himself between this new threat and his fallen agent.
“Helix International,” he grinds his jaw, shaking his head. He would recognise that flight suit anywhere. “Lúcio. You do have friends in all places, don’t you?”
Lúcio does not reply and Akande does not look his way as the newcomer rises to their feet and climbs the ramp, slinging a short cannon in their arms.
“Akande Ogundimu,” the woman declares in that same tone Akande has heard from countless authorities who failed to pen him in over the years. But her scowl is fierce, her eyes hard as diamonds, and if Akande was not hooked up to a needle, he would relish the challenge of that cannon being leveled at his chest. “I am Captain Amari of Helix International Security. By the authority of the United Nations, you are under arrest for violating the terms of your sentence. You’re coming with me.”
—————————–
My eternal thanks to the Doomcio discord server for the following Spanish translations, specifically @millie-on-a-leaf and @cryptidbae:
1) Ay, Lucito-oo-oo! La lucecita de mi noche! / Ay, lil Lucio, the little light of my night!
2) ¿Lula, en qué pensabas? ¿No sabes quién es? ¿Sabes las cosas que hizo? / Squid, what are you thinking, you know who he is? You know what he’s done? ('Lula’ in Portuguese is 'squid’)
3) Hermanita / Sweet little sister (Lucio says this in a fond, patronising way, knowing full well Sombra is his elder)
4) ¿Sombra, soy yo, Lucio, puedes escucharme? / Sombra, it’s Lucio, can you hear me?
#i dedicate this to#rockscanfly#for reminding me that i need to post something this week#ty mutual writing buddy#i know this is not the valentine's thing y'all voted for#it's going to be a belated standalone thing#sombra is going to have so much revenge for being stuck with so much metal#ceasefire#doomcio#doomfist#akande ogundimu#lucio correia dos santos#overwatch#medical procedures#of dubious quality research#this is the second time fareeha comes blazing in with her cannon and business suit#to doomcio pharah says nah#not on my watch
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Emmure - Hindsight
Track List:
(F)Inally (U)Nderstanding (N)othing
Trash Folder
Pigs Ear
Gypsy Disco
I’ve Scene God
Persona Non Grata
Thunder Mouth
Pan’s Dream
203
Informal Butterflies
Action 52
Bastards Ritual
Uncontrollable Descent
These guys are a name I’ve heard thrown around a lot over the years but for some reason I’ve always assumed I wouldn’t like them, I think mostly because of the tastes of the people I knew who did like them, but that’s not really a fair assumption I realise as I’ve grown up, so let’s rectify that. This is their 8th Studio album in their 17 year career, with vocalist Frankie Palmeri being the only original member remaining, over the years the guy has caused a lot of controversy where even past band mates have expressed their disgust and outrage with some of the things that he has done, one of which forced them to change a song name from “Bring a Gun To School” to “(Untitled)”. I’m not going to touch on that because it’s the past now but you can look more into this online as it’s widely covered. I’m going to cover the music and nothing else.
The album’s first single “Pigs Ear” opens up with what sounds like the voice of a news report which appear to be about a musician not doing very well in life and getting fired from most of their medial jobs, then the whole thing erupts and say what you want about Palmeri but he can damn well sing with screams straight from the deepest crevice in hell, the beat is thick and the electronic sounds overlaying gives it a bit of oomph. Second single “Gypsy Disco” starts off with a spoken word style slow build up to the chorus with eerie distorted sounds before we’re enveloped by a clash of styles between harsh growls and almost terrified pleading vocals is the only way I can think to explain it. I personally really enjoyed the album opener “(F)Inally (U)Nderstanding (N)othing” because it has a nice build up and really utilises the DJ tones reminiscent of Limp Bizkit, then they have some rap style vocals, if you could imagine mixing Korn, Limp Bizkit and self-titled era Slipknot that’s how I would describe this, the constant switching up never lets you settled down or get any reprieve from the madness. “Trash Folder” is a huge song which is taking a shot at people sucking up and being twofaced about peoples music, starting off with mimicking what people sound like then erupting and letting the frustration and aggression fly, “you fucking poser” being something I’ve heard a lot of people call each other over the years. “Uncontrollable Descent” reminds me of how metalcore used to be back in the day, just absolutely chaotic and heavy, allowing for slight reprieves in order to make the next drop so much bigger, I bloody love this song.
Apart from the last half of the album I really enjoyed my first Emmure experience, mostly because the last half of the album are quick 1-2 minute tracks that are just blasting you and it’s more eerie than enjoyable. Made me feel 15 again chilling in the under 18s nightclub in town having a grand ol’ time. Would highly recommend for the style not so much for the main guys ideologies and beliefs maybe because there is a bit to be desired but that’s not really why I’m here.
[8/10]
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Caro S,
Sto scrivendo questa lettera più per me che per te, penso. Ho bisogno di scivere tutto ció che provo per te, di modo da potermi finalmente sfogare una volta per tutte.
Mentre penso alle parole giuste da utilizzare sto ascoltando A Different Way di Dj Snake e Lauv, la canzone con cui sono entrata in fissa mentre ero in gita, quando abbiamo iniziato a sentirci sempre più spesso e soprattutto quando ho iniziato a capire che mi piacevi.
Quasi non ci credevo, mi sembrava impossibile che per una volta tutto stesse girando a mio favore, che per una volta qualcuno fosse genuinamente interessato a me.
Una volta tornata c’è stato il bacio. Quel bacio è stato come tornare a respirare dopo essere stati del tempo sott’acqua. Era perfetto, noi eravamo perfetti. Ho sempre saputo, dal primo momento in cui ti ho visto, che noi due eravamo destinati a qualcosa di più, a qualcosa di immensamente bello. Difatti è stato così: credo sinceramente che in 18 anni io non abbia passato giorni migliori di quelli con te. Mi hai sempre fatta sentire bella per quella che ero, non hai mai voluto che cambiassi e per questo te ne saró sempre grata.
La verità è che io e te siamo molto simili, a volte ero addirittura inquietata per quanto la pensassimo allo stesso modo e per quanto mi sentissi capita da te.
Non capisco perchè tu abbia voluto chiudere tutto questo, non capisco perchè tu abbia dovuto porre fine a un rapporto che rendeva palesemente felici entrambi. Mi hai detto che non te la sentivi di andare “oltre”. Ma cosa significa poi, “andare oltre”? Metterci insieme, forse? Non ho mai voluto pressarti per questo e lo sai bene.
Sei una persona così bella, e in pochi lo sanno, perchè ti metti così tanti paletti e ti fai così tanti problemi che non riesci a capire quanto in realtà tu stia ferendo te stesso. Non vuoi e non riesci mai a metterti a nudo al 100% con le persone, nemmeno con quelle di cui pensi di fidarti. Purtroppo non riesci a comprendere quanto questo lato della tua personalità ti impedisca di essere felice, e la dimostrazione sono io. Con me stavi bene, non puoi negarlo, ti piacevo, ragionavamo allo stesso modo, ci capivamo, ti sentivi a tuo agio. Penso che tu non ti sia mai sentito così, e penso anche che tu abbia avuto paura. Paura di buttarti in quella cosa chiamata “amore”, che fa impazzire alcuni e dannare altri. Forse temi di soffrire, di “esporti troppo”, dato che nessuno dei tuoi amici ti ha mai visto con una ragazza. So che è così, ma so anche che non lo ammetteresti mai, forse neanche a te stesso.
Con me peró non devi aver paura, perchè la verità è che ti amo così tanto che non me ne rendo neanche conto. Per te avrei fatto di tutto. Ho capito definitivamente di amarti quando ho realizzato che te ne saresti andato, quando ho capito che non ti avrei più rivisto.
Mi hai delusa cosí tanto, perchè pensavo davvero che tra di noi ci fosse qualcosa di speciale, e lo penso tutt’ora. Non credo che la nostra storia sia finita, credo che manchi ancora un pezzo. Non so se mai ritornerai e/o se mai realizzerai il tuo errore, ma spero davvero per te che tu lo faccia, perchè sappi che io a te una seconda possibilità la darei sempre.
Non rimpiango e non mi pento di nulla.
Mi dispiace tanto
Con amore immenso
Francesca
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(DJ Persona Non Grata)
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A la Une Pays Côte d'Ivoire Must See People : Ariel Sheney a ete déclaré persona non grata à la veillée artistique en hommage à DJ Arafat !
A la Une Pays Côte d’Ivoire Must See People : Ariel Sheney a ete déclaré persona non grata à la veillée artistique en hommage à DJ Arafat !
People, alors qu’il est prévu une veillée artistique en hommage au regretté DJ Arafat vendredi 30 août 2019, celui qui fut autrefois son poulain vient de se voir refuser d’y participer. Les fans du Daïshikan garderaient rancune envers Ariel Sheney, lequel n’était plus lié d’amitié avec son mentor à l’heure de son décès.
S’il a été pendant des années le poulain du boss de la…
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The Last Show is Online, Link in @plateform_radio_show 's Bio! Record live on @lyl_radio Tracklist: 01. @george.fields - Interstellar Youth 02. La Cliqua - Comme Une Sarbacane 03. @nelson.dialect & Architech - Instinct 04. @parkypix & @djmrthing - 8 Bricks (feat. Melanin 9) 05. Ivan Ave - Find Me 06. Koma - Tout Est Calculé 07. Children of The Damned - Brick Peli Keeps It Real 08. Slum Brothers - Stop Fronting 09. Alps Cru - Just Can't Explain 10. Godfather Don - Do My Thing (@jazzspastiks Remix) 11. @fluxparental - Right Here (Instrumental) 12. @azudemsk & Orange Field - Schlicht & Ergreifend (feat. Actor) 13. @harvsletoad - Crabman (feat. @dirtydike ) 14. La Mixture - Le Dos Au Mur 15. @tinfoilfronts X @jazzt71 - Urn Money 16. @mz_boom_bap1 & @ill_conscious - Potent Serum (feat. King Magnetic & DJ Grazzhoppa) 17. The Nonce - The Greatest MC’s 18. 1st Down - Front Street Remix 19. @armed_dukes - Strife 20. @eloquent_sxt - Knapp Daneben 21. Mood - Hustle On The Side 22. Scientifik - Lawtown 23. Bushwackas - Caught Up In The Game 24. Chill Rob G. - Know Your Place 25. Glad2Mecha & @illtreats - One Love 26. @blame_one - Frontin' Foes (feat. @exileradio ) 27. @redmangilla - Whateva Man 28. @deejaypropo88 - Because I'm Buggin' 29. Adagio! - Hold Tight 30. Penpals & Junclassic - Persona Non Grata 31. Killarmy - Burning Season 32. Kurious - Baby Bust It (feat. MF Grimm) 33. Tim Dog - I Don't Give A Fuck 34. Mobb Deep - We About To Get Hectic 35. Hard 2 Obtain - Hip Hop Lifestyle (Instrumental) #liveradio #radioshow #boombap #realhiphop #hhvde #lylradio #lyon #vinylonly #vinyls #records #allvinyls #instrumentals #ukhiphop #beats #90sindie #vinyljunkie #vinyladdict #indierap #lyon #beats #goneupradio #undergroundhiphop #rapfrancais #frenchrap #ukrap (à Lyon, France) https://www.instagram.com/p/BvZPad5lIdS/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1dao7nvobx90c
#liveradio#radioshow#boombap#realhiphop#hhvde#lylradio#lyon#vinylonly#vinyls#records#allvinyls#instrumentals#ukhiphop#beats#90sindie#vinyljunkie#vinyladdict#indierap#goneupradio#undergroundhiphop#rapfrancais#frenchrap#ukrap
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#PumpUpThaVolume: May 13, 2020
#PumpUpThaVolume MP3: #May13 w/@BrightEyesBand, @WillieNelson, @BlitzenTrapper & more ♬
https://mediamonarchy.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/20200513_PumpUpThaVolume.mp3
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Media Monarchy DJ’s live every weekday from 12-1pm PT on MediaMonarchy.com/Listen. Today we played:
Stevie Wonder – “I Just Called To Say I Love You” (Inst./33RPM)
Bright Eyes – “Persona Non Grata”
Willie Nelson – “I’m The Only Hell My Mama Ever Raised” (Johnny Paycheck Cover)
Blitzen Trapper – “Magical…
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DJ Head Trauma is the Persona Non Grata that represents the Urban/Club/Industrial EDM/Hip Hop/Trip Hop aspect of Mood Disorder-Dark Heart Dystopia's Remix Music… Processed Vox by Drako Dark Syde...
#Drako Dark Syde#Dark Heart Dystopia#DJ Head Trauma#Pain#Sufferring#industrial Music#"Industrial Electronic Metal#EDM#EBM#DJ Dark Martyr
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