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crystalelemental · 1 year

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Sync Pair Retrospective - Sygna Suit Morty

About a year ago now, DeNA surprised all of us with a sudden pivot into caring about Golden Week. I sure didn't expect it. And I don't think anyone expected what we actually got out of it. Morty, with a shiny Ho-oh. I think this was only the second time we got a shiny form of something in the game, barring eggmons, so it was still a pretty fresh concept overall. And with such an unexpected combination, holding the rank of both PokeFair and Weather Support, reception must have been incredible, right?

Maybe if you don't know shit about the Pokemon Masters fandom. Supports are always downplayed at first. Always and forever. Morty was considered downright bad by some, because he's an awkward defensive support that buffs slowly, and didn't help with offense, which is the only thing that matters, you know? It's why Aura Cynthia is actually super bad and no one should pull for her over Ash or Red.

Well, like every other time this cycle repeats, it took like two days for the tune to change drastically, as everyone who got him went "Oh wow, this dude's amazing." Fun fact: I actually held off too. I forget why, I think it was just low gem count or something, but I doubled back when the Johtrio went well and god what a relief to have pulled him.

Morty pretty immediately solidified himself as one of the best sync pairs in the game. Like, for context, there were people legitimately arguing that he was better than SS Kris when she dropped. They're wrong, but they weren't far off. Morty's bulk was nothing short of exceptional, with unbelievably strong defenses for something that didn't need to mega evolve, defense boosting, Potion, and passive healing every action under Sun. He's one of those units that turns a team functionally immortal. And despite complaints that he was bad at offense, he did supply crit rate and speed, which is a very nice set of skills to have for strikers.

The tradeoff was having poor performance on his Atk/Sp Atk boosting, getting effectively only +1 on first application of Sun. He could get a second stack at 3/5 with the right node, but to be honest his grid is so loaded with other, better tools, that you kinda just let his allies be self-sufficient in that regard.

Speaking of grid though, good lord. It's immaculate. 2/5 is what I've been running, and I legitimately don't think he needs much more. Sunny Disposition, MPR on trainer move and Sun, Master Healer on Potion. Sure there's MPR on Potion and the coveted Vigilance, but like. He's so good, even at this level.

The thing is, I could talk a lot about what Morty's good at, but the bottom line is he was uncontested in his role. No other support manually sets Sun. His only competition in this role is base Lyra, whose buffing kit is exceptionally strong on offense, but she lacks the same defensive backbone and drops pretty constantly. If Lyra gets a grid expansion (which, to be clear, she does not need), then Morty might be in trouble. But PokeFairs are also getting it, and they're getting two, so give it a bit and he'll be right back at the top. His role as a Sun-setting support is just unquestioned, and supremely valuable. His particular kit also assists basically everyone. Blaine, Ethan, Hilda, and Serena need that crit rate, but can boost their offense. Anni N gets to save a lot of turns boosting. Later additions like SS May loved that one extra point of crit to cap offenses for her first sync a turn early, and SS Hilda literally needs for nothing but defense and speed. Everyone was perfect, but few as thankful as SS Red.

SS Red vs. Leon was still somewhat of an ongoing discussion at the time. Anni N was better than both, but was a Tech, so by Striker discussion, it mattered. SS Red won with SS Morty, because Morty's Sun compression freed up team compositions, and SS Red was offensively self-sufficient, while Leon needed more help. Lucian was the immediate coup de grace. Debuffing special defense of opponents is tremendous, when your roster is filled with options like SS Red, Serena, Blarcanine, Anni N, and Leon. All the big names are special. Sure you double-dip the speed boosting, but since both are relatively slow, it just hasted full access to something like Silver's Inertia.

The other was the combination of SS Morty/SS Lyra. Grass-types largely run on Sun as well, and Morty is the only option that permits both Sun and Grassy Terrain at the same time. You want full power SS Erika or SC Sonia? You're running Morty. And in both scenarios, he's giving speed, which is the most critical aspect of their kit to bring. Hysterically, even for options like Mallow, who definitely needs more of the Attack boosting, SS Lyra had him covered. There were no flaws in this core.

But somehow this was not enough. Because the universe would bestow another gift upon Morty as Johto's Chosen, in the form of a sync pair scout most reviled. Variety Scouts are a hated thing, but absolutely nothing is funnier than Eevee Lucas.

Remember how I said Morty solidified SS Red as better than Leon? Yeah, not anymore. Eevee Lucas bursts in with team special attack buffs, status immunity for the team, special defense debuffs like Lucian at 3/5, and the ability to set Sun every sync, which was all of them since Leon sure wasn't using it unlike Red, who needed to mega evolve. In this one addition, Leon was back on top, with one of the most insane synergy teams I've ever seen. Seriously, think about Morty for a second. Vigilance and Sunny Disposition on grid, Status Immunity thanks to Lucas, and he's still got a lucky skill free. Morty is the most invulnerable sync pair when it comes to shenanigans. He is having none of it, and is constantly boosting both bulk and HP with like every action.

However that's not to say that Morty didn't suffer. As a generalist, his application was defenses and crit. Yes, the speed buffs and healing too, but those were incidental against the backdrop of his core function as an immortal being. And, well...Aura Cynthia.

When it comes to defensive play, you will never get a bigger stat wall than Aura Cynthia. I mean. We will. Powercreep. But at present, she's unrivaled. If you're looking for a general option for survival, immediate max bulk, Double Potion MPR, recovery in multiple ways, access to Gauntlet checking gimmicks like Paralysis and Impervious, and can even buff crit rate, but then also throws in stacks of moves up next and gauge acceleration? Yeah, outside of his specified niche, Cynthia just won. Morty could not compete with how defensively unstoppable Cynthia is. And so, Morty became hard locked into his niche as a Sun setting support, bearing the blessings of Fire and Grass, unopposed.

At this point, I would like to pull back the curtain, and express that I finished this on 4/24/23. You know. The day before datamine. My thinking was man, Morty is in such a specific niche now that there's no way anything happens that actively challenges him. WHOOPSIE DOODLES

Sygna Suit Acerola with the steel chair. Having both Grassy Terrain and Sunny Day, Acerola aims to compress both SS Morty and SS Lyra into a single pair. The staggering thing is, she kinda did it. Acerola offers immediate capped crit for the team, a buddy move that can cap attack for the team, and perhaps most significantly, stacks physical moves up next. That last component is critical. Acerola supports every physical Fire and especially Grass striker, probably better than Morty himself. Because moves up next is ridiculous. To make matters worse, because of the compression of this role, she can even bring SC Steven. Who packs rebuff, SEUN, even more stacks of physical moves up, defense debuffs, attack debuffs for Mallow, and even Restrain effect for Selene, all at the same time, while also having a 3/5 grid node to add flinch. The combo of SS Acerola and SC Steven is unparalleled for physical damage dealers broadly, let alone under the same field effects as Morty.

Even so, Morty still retains the advantage for specially offensive Fire and Grass types thanks to Eevee Lucas and SS Lyra. And his sustain game is far, far superior to Acerola's, which has merit. To say nothing of having MPR on Sunny Day, which Acerola lacks, causing potential problems in Gauntlet. Morty met his match, but he's not out of a job because of it. In spite of taking a few big hits from his competition, Morty's still flying high as one of the best supports in the entire game.

#sygna suit morty #sync pair retrospective

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genesis-official · 3 years

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𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙀𝙎𝙄𝙎 - 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙙 𝘼𝙡𝙗𝙪𝙢 ‘𝘽𝙖𝙙 𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙨 𝘾𝙡𝙪𝙗’

bad girls club is the first mini-album by south korean girl group GENESIS. the album was released digitally and physically on september 14th, 2018 by starship entertainment. the single album contains four tracks: "killer heels", "watch me", "can't bring this down" and the lead single, "bad girls club".

— tracklist

01. killer heels - it’s a head-banging, uplifting song about feminism and not treating women like objects. the lyrics were praised among western fans for talking about a hard-hitting topic while still being a fun and enjoyable song. hyunbin wrote the lyrics and produced the chorus.

02. bad girls club (title track) - this song is a bass-filled, rap-heavy track with lyrics such as “it’s good to be bad” and a very gritty feel to it. the quick and effortless transitions from hyunbin and hwamin’s rapping to perry and hyeri’s vocals, tied together by roseha and amelie’s dance breaks gave this song a very high rating.

03. watch me - a sparky, sassy song about being in the spotlight and doing things of your own volition, despite other people’s complaints. fans were pleasantly surprised at the absence of vocals and having the song be comprised of entirely rapping. hwamin became increasingly popular with this song because of her killing part.

04. can't bring this down - a chill, lowkey song to end off the mini-album. it’s about how despite the struggles they’ve faced, the girls have become successful and risen to the top, with the help of each other. hyunbin produced the song and perry helped with the composition.

— content

𝘼𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙏𝙄𝘾

the main concept of this album is rebellion, so the girls went all out with a girl-crush theme. the focal point of the aesthetics is grunge, so there were a lot of fishnets with chains and the colour black, with lots of garters and harnesses.

all of the girls had black hair.

𝙈𝙐𝙎𝙄𝘾 𝙑𝙄𝘿𝙀𝙊

the mv is set in an unnamed city at night, and unlike the last two music videos, this isn’t connected to the main storyline.

perry’s scenes were in front of an outdoor vending machine. throughout the music video, it showed perry putting money in the vending machine, but nothing would come. when she wasn’t singing into the camera, she was getting more and more frustrated until she grabbed a rock and smashed the glass, taking as much as she can and running off. she was wearing a black graphic tee with an unzipped cardigan, a black skirt, fishnets and black thigh high boots. she had grey eye contacts.

hyeri’s scenes were in front of a red wall. she was holding a red rose with a lot of thorns, and at one point she squeezed it so hard blood came out. she was wearing a red and black striped turtleneck, a red pleated skirt with a playboy bunny on the front, and red boots even though the screen never goes past her thighs.

roseha’s scenes were on a highway. she was sitting on top of an electronic road sign and watching the cars underneath her go by. she was wearing a striped long-sleeve shirt underneath a black ‘dyse one’ graphic tee, black ripped jeans and black converse. her shirt was hitched up to show a temporary tattoo across her stomach that says ‘cut here’ with dotted lines.

amelie’s scenes were in a hallway lit with red neon lights. she was walking down the hallway, dancing and dinging animatedly into the camera. she wore a cropped red puffer jacket, black trousers with a yellow off-white tape belt and black chunky trainers. her hair was up in a bun

hyunbin’s scenes took place in the city, with the camera shakily following her around as if she were drunk. she wore a black baby tee with black shorts, black platform boots and a black jacket off the shoulders. she wore light brown eye contacts.

hwamin’s scenes were in an empty parking lot, lit by red lights. she was sitting on top of a white car rapping into the camera, while holding a baseball bat. the car was driving around in circles and the driver’s door was open, although nobody was driving it. she wore a red t-shirt cut off into a crop top, blue jeans, a checkerboard tape belt, and black doc martens.

𝙊𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙑𝙄𝘿𝙀𝙊𝙎

— era notes

they bLEW UP after this comeback, their fanbase increased noticeably and their videos started gaining more views

hyunbin and hwamin got their chance to SHINE as rappers

in fact everyone did

they got four wins. FOUR. WINS.

the mv got 20 million views in the first 24 hours

the mini-album ended up #1 on mnet and melon, and the title track got #3 on the charts again!!

the stylists actually outdid themselves, the girls looked amazing

they held a big vlive which made fans love them even more

it sparked a lot of edits on twitter

ot6 with black hair,,, immaculate

in fact, dawns got the phrase “black hair” trending because they were so shocked

black-haired hyeri awakened something in a LOT of girls

hyunbin, at first, was worried about the popularity of the album because she was worried fans would quickly be turned off by the sudden “edgy” concept, but people were very happy with it

as previously mentioned, this was more rap-heavy comeback

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lou-bonfightme · 4 years

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The Bonfamille Manor

This is the third in a series that one day may be complete but also may never be complete. As most of you know I’m like a huge #spatial person in my writing, so all my character’s houses/apartments/living spaces are really well mapped out in my brain? And I thought it’d be fun for people to see. (And a good reference for those who may RP in those spaces at some point.)

Overview:

The Bonfamille Manor is a 7 bedroom, 5 1/2 bath house in the richest neighborhood in Swynlake. Newly renovated before the Bonfamilles moved in, it was built originally in the 1920s, when there was an expansion of the neighborhood. It boasts a lovely manicure property of one acre and views of the forest of Enchantra from its northern side. The driveway is rather large with a manicured lawn and horseshoe driveway, the house settled back slightly from the main road. Complete with marble and polished wood, three floors, a basement and attic space, it is a fabulous home, built for large families, guests, and throwing lavish parties.

**note: pictures in the aesthetic are to give an overall #feel of the house, but don’t necessarily indicate the exact furniture/decorations/floorplan. the floorplan, on the otherhand is not quite to scale but i did the best i could.

@ber-bonfamille-lyons, @marie-a-bonfamille

1. The Grand Foyer

The Bonfamille home is impressive from the moment you walk in. The marble floors are always sparkling, the walls are painted a lovely pale taupe that is neutral enough to compliment the whirligig decor which flits in and out of the manor as the seasons change, following the latest Parisian fashions. There is always a fresh bouquet on a table between the two staircases, so you are greeted with the lovely scent of whichever flowers are in season--often imported from around the world, and in the spring and summer, occasionally the flowers are from the Bonfamille’s very own garden, which is surely to be remarked upon when guests arrive for tea. The staircase which leads to the second floor has an imposing, regal presence. To the left of the entrance is a door which leads to the kitchen, this is almost always closed, except in rare circumstance. Guests are funneled to the side of the left staircase and into the sitting room before rounding into the dining room if they are coming over for a meal. However, it has a practical application of allowing the residents of the manor (usually the housekeeper) to answer the door swiftly.

2. Music Room

To the right of the front entrance is the music room. It is plainly decorated, with a cushioned window seat and an 1800th century Erard piano in sparkling, mint condition. The doors to this room are double paned windows, though they are usually left open, except in the evenings when they are closed as the residents retire for bed. In the springtime, the window which looks out towards the street is often left open and occasionally music can be heard down the street. It is a small room, but still has the tasteful Bonfamille touch, with a beautiful watercolor portrait of the Siene in summer hanging along the wall one would first observe upon entering, painted, as Adelaide will delightfully boast, by her eldest son.

3. Library

The library is a private space which usually remains closed, with the exception being during parties, where guests are free to roam the bottom floor of the manor. It is next door to the music room, though tucked slightly behind the stairs and across the foyer from the sitting room. Inside, the room is a delicious wine colour, with cherry bookshelves set into the wall, customized to the room. One wall boasts a framed family tree of the LaBlancs, tracing their lineage back to Parisian aristoc(r)ats. Around this frame are three plaques, which establish the fairy gifts of the Bonfamille children: extra cones in the eye, pitch perfect tune, and a crystal clear singing voice. These are used as talking points during parties. The collection of books is mostly in French, though English, German, and Latin can also be found. Many are family heirlooms, passed down through the generations.

4. Downstairs Restroom

Located at the back of the house on the right side, the downstairs restroom is always immaculate, with embroidered hand towels and imported luxurious hand soaps and lotion. This bathroom is used almost exclusively by guests. It is the only bathroom in the house that is not a full. It has a sign, in French, designating it as the restroom.

5. Washroom

A door kept strictly closed at all times, it has a sign on the door designating it as the washroom, so guests do not accidentally wander into it in search of the restroom. Tucked into the back of the house, next to the restroom, this room is out of the way, though if the door opens, it always smells like fresh linen and one can spot that even this room is clean and tidy, despite the constant flow of laundry.

6. Sitting Room

It is a rare guest who visits the Bonfamille manor sitting room frequently enough to grow familiar with the furniture and decor. Changing once every few months, it is constantly in flux. The only constants are the photos that line the hearth. However, as new accomplishments are performed by the talented Bonfamilles, the photos may be rearranged to display the newest editions. Artwork decorates the walls here as well, both by the eldest Bonfamille alongside other modern works, all from France. Otherwise, the couches and chairs and table and carpet are often changed in both layout and composition. (But, nothing is really that comfortable, as the sitting room is not for lounging, but for socializing with guests.)

There is a sliding glass door which looks out over the back patio and down into the picturesque garden, often tended to by the housekeeper, occasionally with the help of the mistress of the house and the Bonfamille children. There is a practical element to the garden, where vegetables and fruits suitable to the English climate are grown, as well as a more aesthetic element which boasts beautiful and often exotic flowers. The patio is large, but rarely used.

7. Dining Room

Another room in the manor that is constantly in flux, the dining room boasts a table of fine mahogany that seats twelve comfortably, though extra chairs are stored elsewhere for use in the event of a larger dinner party. While the living room furniture often changes, the dining room table is a family hierloom that was a wedding gift from the mistress of the house’s family. However, the upholstery does frequently change to compliment the living room. It is painted a similar colour to the foyer. Artwork decorates the walls here as well, both by the eldest Bonfamille alongside other modern works, all from France. It also houses a large cabinet of porcelian serving dishes, used for only the most special of occasions, such as births, engagements, weddings, and graduations, or when important visitors arrive for dinner. Notable guests include members of the British royal family, the British ambassador to France, the French ambassador to England, other political figures from both France and England, as well as several other prominent high society members.

8. Kitchen

The kitchen is large and state of the art, with a much different aesthetic than the rest of the house. It is very modern in appearance, both sleek and more monochrome. The kitchen is rarely seen by guests. There is no decor on the walls such that characterizes the rest of the manor. It is the domaine of the housekeeper. It has a door that exists to the grand foyer, as well as one on the opposite wall that opens into the dining room. The door to the basement is also here.

9. Berlioz’s Studio

The basement has been converted to a studio for the middle Bonfamille, who is a musician, composer, and producer. Although he has, within recent years, moved in with his long-time partner, the vestibules of his studio remain. A fold out couch and a few chairs are scattered about the middle of the room. In one corner is a customized recording booth with velvet maroon interior that matches the throw pillows on the couch and chairs. There is also a mixing station, computer table, and state of the art sound. The room is mostly soundproof, however, there is a sliding glass door along the side of the house that opens out to the backyard.

10. Berlioz’s Bedroom

Berlioz’s room has been emptied out considerably since he moved in with Simba. His bed is still there with simple gray comforter/sheets. The walls are all white. There is a pretty large stair-step bookcase on the opposite wall, where most of his records and books are stored. There used to be guitars and posters on the walls, but he’s moved those to Simba’s place. But impressively, his desk still manages to have lots of old papers from secondary, including notebooks full of very old lyrics. They’re hidden away though since Nounou keeps the desk clear and the room tidy.

11. Toulouse’s Bedroom

The eldest Bonfamille’s room is on the right from the top of the stairs and to the left. It has one window that faces out towards the main street and one that faces towards the neighbor’s, though with enough room between houses to provide privacy. Filled with two amply stocked bookshelves and a large wardrobe, which betrays the eldest son’s affinity for fashion (some of the overflow is housed in the middle Bonfamille’s closet, which was the case before the middle Bonfamille moved out, but has become even more true in the years following.) The bedsheets are a simple stone-grey, with ample amounts of throw pillows. A tidy desk sits near the door and a book normally graces the nightsand, obviously in the process of being read. The room is filled with exotic plants, that both sit atop the wardrobe, bookshelves, desk, and nightstands, but also hang from the ceiling, giving the impression the room is much smaller than in actuality.

12. Berlioz and Toulouse’s Restroom

The Bonfamille brothers share a bathroom that can be seen from the top of the stairs if you stand to the left and look up. It is next to the eldest Bonfamille’s room and diagonally across the hall from the middle Bonfamille’s room. Despite being owned by two young men, it is more or less always spotless, with grooming utensils housed beneath the cabinet. It boasts a full tub and shower, and is spacious in design.

13. Billiards Room

If you didn’t need enough of a reminder that the Bonfamilles were rich and posh as fuck, they have a billiards room.

14. Marie’s Room

The youngest Bonfamille’s room, situated opposite her mother’s, is a room that any young woman would envy. The room is outfitted in white and shades of pink, everything made to look delicate and, of course, expensive. The bed, pushed against the right hand wall, is layered in blankets and cushions to give it a cozy feel, with a few stuffed animals tucked in next to the pillows. Next to the bed, a desk for working and assignments stands against the wall, whilst a dressing table, completed by an illuminated mirror, sits at the foot of the bed against the left-most wall. Both desks are kept well organised and neatly set out so that everything is to hand when she needs it, and above the work desk are various past designs and photographs from her childhood, and occasionally, flowers are left in a vase on the corner of the desk (though now flowers tend to be a rarity thanks to the arrival of the cat). Dauphine, of course, is not forgotten; she has her own cat bed next to Marie’s, and by the window, so she can watch the birds.

15. Adelaide’s Room

The Bonfamille matriarch, of course, enhabits the master (or in this case, mistress) bedroom. The largest of the four second floor bedrooms, it is located to the left of the staircase and along the left wall, across from the singular Bonfamille daughter’s room. Inside is a lavish four-poster bed with fresh flowers always on the nightstand. There is also a sitting area, with a settee, chairs, and a table. This room is ornately decorated. It also features a large bathroom, complete with a roomy tub, separate shower, and large walk-in closet.

16. Guest Bedroom #1

This room was most recently used as a nursery for Claude and is one of the smaller rooms in the house. It is currently still outfitted as a nursery, but will one day be converted back into a guest room.

17. Guest Restroom

The guest rooms are Jack-and-Jill style, with a full bathroom between. A shower is available here, though if a guest prefers a bath, they are welcome to the roomy tub across the hall in the guest restroom. The door closes between the toilet/shower and the sinks, allowing for private access to these facilities, allowing for continued access to the sinks whilst the bathroom is in use.

18. Guest Bedroom #2

The Bonfamilles do not skimp when it comes to decorating their guest rooms. Complete with goose-feathered pillows, down comforters, and delightfully comfortable (and expensive mattresses), the care the Bonfamilles have for their guests is immediately clear. Decorated with fine art, the room also is provided with fresh flowers when occupied. These rooms are located up a staircase at the left side of the second floor corridor, and then to the right, along the right wall.

19. Children’s Playroom

Envisioned as a third bedroom on the third floor, perhaps even the original Master bedroom, this room is the largest in the house. The Bonfamilles converted it into a playroom for when the three children were very young. Here, there were play tables, comfortable mats for napping, a chest full of toys, as well as easels for painting, a keyboard for playing music, and a shelf full of books. However, now that all the children are young adults, the room has been packed up and is mostly used as storage.

20. Third Floor Restroom

Originally used, perhaps, as the Master bath, this restroom is now off the playroom. It is available for use by guests, who so choose, as it has a wonderful jacuzzi tub. It is occasionally used as a dark room by the eldest Bonfamille, in order to develop photographs. The door to this bathroom which leads to the hall was the one of the only major layout feature that the Bonfamilles added after buying the house, otherwise, most of the plan is congruent with the original 1920s plan. The other exceptions exist in the basement and attic.

21. Toulouse’s Studio

Directly at the top of the stairs on the third floor is a door that leads up into the attic space, converted for the eldest Bonfamille son as an art studio. This is the only part of the house with exposed wood, instead of drywall and paint. The floor, also, is unfinished and now covered in a layer of paint splatters. The walls have a shelf at working-height that spans the perimeter of the studio, for someone to stand or sit at a tall stool and comfortably use them as workspace. The north wall and the east wall boast beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows which are cleaned by professional cleaners once a month. This allows for a view of both the garden below and the forest beyond. The room is crowded with half-finished, finished, and blank canvases, as well as other art projects in various mediums (most frequently wood working), in stages of completion.

#the bonfamille manor #interior: the bonfamille manor #exterior: the bonfamille manor #headcanons #inspiration #in case y'all forgot how extra i am #this has been sitting waiting for like 2 years #at LEAST

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crystalnet · 4 years

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Pop Music in Ghibli

If you mention Ghibli and soundtracks in the same breath to most people, the first thing they will likely think of is Joe Hisaishi-senpai’s prodigious and immaculate compositions, BUT it occurred to me recently that there’s actually a great amount of pop music showing up in a handful of some of my very favorite Ghibli films. They’re more rare compared to the instrumental tracks, sure, but in that way it might be even be more impactful-- especially for plebeians without an ear for vocal-less music-- when they do show up. Click through as I explore pop music in 5 Ghibli classics.

#1- The Wind Rises: ‘ "Hikōki-gumo" (ひこうき雲) by Yumi Matsutoya

Okay so hearing this song on a recent viewing of this film was the whole impetus for writing this. By hugely influential and popular song-writer Yumi Matsutoya, this closing-credits track drops just in time for a full fatality against the viewers’ emotional fortitude- if it remains in tact at all by that point. Between the bittersweet lyrics-- which corresponds beautifully with a plot point from the end of the film-- a righteous hammond organ part and this heart-breaking melody, it all just becomes a bit too much, in a great way.

Mrs. Matsutoya here is outright indecent towards our emotions here. And I love it. In addition to that, the track counts as only one of a few instances of a pop song in a Ghibli joint serving as the closing track. So uh yeah, go down a rabbit hole of Matsutoya’s music if you wanna explore the wonderful world of vintage J-pop/city pop etc., and you will not be disappoint. Also, this isn’t even the first time one of her songs was used... her debut in Ghibli occured 2 decades earlier in....

#2- Kiki’s Delivery Service: ‘I’m Gonna Fly”- Sydney Forester

Okay, so this is not another Matsutoya song. But in the original Disney release of Kiki, this song stood in for what was in the Japanese release a rather different, rockabilly-pop song from one of Matsutoya’s early albums ‘Rouge no Dengon‘, and this has since been corrected on subsequent releases. Tonally they are pretty different, but they both share a level of charm. This English replacement is way cornier though, but I imagine whichever one you grow up with will be the superior and preferable dose of nostalgia. I’m tainted by living with the original 90s English version for so long, that I get really thrown off in the first 20 minutes if, mid-maiden voyage, Kiki turns on her radio to Matsutoya instead of this funny little stand-in.

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Speaking of Kiki’s radio, this is one of only TWO instances I’m aware of in which the pop song is diegetic within the film-- meaning it actually comes from a source within the actual world of the movie-- at least sort of (it’s that kinda pseudo-diegesis where the volume of the song makes it clear that it can’t actually be coming from her little radio). This song just really has a kind of saccharine horse-girl charm which I love and I feel like it matches the movie’s atmosphere pretty well despite being modern sounding, whereas Kiki’s world seems to be vaguely set in a version of the.... 50′s where dirigibles never went away? Never really thought about it actually.

But yeah, these weird contract-based one-off recording artist concoctions are always kinda fun. They remind me of weird tracks from the Detective Conan opening themes where you just wonder about how and why they come about. Ultimately though, Disney probably made a good choice. The song occurs early enough in the film that it might do some work towards dissuading any reservations younger viewer-- or their parents-- might have after wading into such a then-exotic animated film such as this. It gently reassures one that despite appearances, this film CAN be a movie for English-speaking Americans. Plus I mean this lady’s voice actually rocks. I feel like it helped sell the movie to my older Jewel-listening sisters when we were kids and for that I’m grateful~

#3- Only Yesterday: “Omoide No Nagisa”- The Wild Ones (and much much more)

Okay so Only Yesterday is stuffed to the brim with tons of pop music and other cultural ephemera, far too much for me to parse through now (maybe deserving of its own deep-dive post) but I’ll focus on one that shows up early in the movie.

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(This isn’t full track, for some reason the only full version on youtube will not embed: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MRlKvOiXgjo

This track plays during one of the early memoir-esque narration-heavy flashback scenes. It’s before we are fully thrust into those more washed-out, impressionistic coming-of-age sequences, and are being lead gently into that world by way of recollection from the now adult protagonist. She is remembering the craze in 1966 around “group-sounds”, a genre in Japan that was clearly partly indebted to the British Invasion happening on the other side of the world.

I like the song a lot because I can hear the Beatles, Kinks and Monkeys etc., but it has it’s own really unique flair on top of that influence. I hear smokey curry and coffee shops. Fuzzy bunny-eared television signals. I think of young fresh-faced Japanese Boomers experiencing a newly technicolor world of pop-culture. The echo on the mic pick-ups whirs in my mind pulling me back toward a “simpler time”.

The appearance of this song early on is a tip-off to the unfurling of a particularly globally-minded and varied soundtrack in this film which continues to surprise throughout the runtime-- it is my second favorite Ghibli soundtrack after ‘Totoro’ by far and that usually has to do with the incredible Bulgarian choir music that appears, but stuff like this Wild Ones track is just great too. Whether the male-lead/love-interest is playing that Bulgarian “peasant music” via his Toyota’s cassette player or we are getting a history lesson in early J-pop/rock, it’s all particularly tasty. There’s even a couple appearances from music from Japanese children’s television.

A lot of the referencing is nigh impossible for this westerner to parse, but all of it--save for one track-- is pretty ace. That one let-down for me is yet another pop song in the form of the ending credit-sequence track, a Japanese cover of ‘The Rose’. I think Bette Midler is just not a tasty association for an American of my ilk and so even if the rendition is tasteful, and the ending scene is beautiful, it remains the only time I’m let down sonically in the movie.

Before I move on, it’s worth mentioning that the movie itself may be named after an American film OR a song by the Carpenters. I can’t be sure, but I kinda wish they actually used this Carpenters track to close the film instead of ‘The Rose’ but maybe it was a licensing issue. Anyhow. Perfect movie.

#4- Whisper of the Hear: “Take Me Home, Country Roads”- John Denver/Olivia Newton John/Various

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Okay so the way this song factors into the movie is way different than anything else we’ve discussed so far. I’ll embed the Olivia Newton-John rendition that the film opens with as opposed to the Japanese version that plays in the ending, because uh, as cute as it is, the vocalist (who I think is just the main-character’s voice actress?) is pitchy as hell (maybe in a twee, intentional way?)

But so yeah, this song is a big part of an initial and reoccurring plot-point in the film which has the young protag. translating the American song into Japanese with her school friends. It’s a slightly illegible plot-point if you watch the English dub, but it basically comes across. According to Wiki, the producer of the film’s daughter actually supplied her lyrics which Mr. Hayao himself supplemented, which is just too cute. In the film, her version is called ‘Concrete Roads’ which has some nice thematic resonance with a lot of the angst that shows up in ‘Pom Poko’ regarding the suburban developments which sprawled out from Tokyo and other major Japanese cities throughout the 20th cent., encroaching on that same beautiful countryside that John Denver was initially sending up.

In a climactic scene, the protag. nervously but triumphantly sings the song along with her magic-boy boyfriend and his grampa’s grampa-friends, and uh yeah it’s cute as heck.

The film is based on a manga, and though I’m too lazy to research this much, I assume the manga was the first to introduce the concept of centering so much of the story around a relatively benign country-pop tune such as this. But I mean, the choral arrangement in the intro of Newton-John’s is kinda emotional as hell. Mountain-momma indeed.

#5- My Neighbor Totoro: Ending Theme- I don’t know...

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Alright we’ll end with a sampling from the best of the best. I’m not gonna force too much “research” for this ‘cause like, I don’t know man, I just don’t wanna do anything that would remotely threaten to extinguish the magic. And I refuse to ever listen to the abomination that is the Disney re-dub. But I understand they re-recorded these tracks for that. Which, like, why? I’m also assuming the songs were pretty faithful translations of original Japanese tracks, because they’re just too good to have just been created for the western release. Like Hisaishi has to be behind those kalimbas and synth-lines. The lady’s voice basically sounds like my mom to me(?) and the dusty patina on her vocal-track alone kinda makes me wanna weep.

And I kinda hate when people just joylessly parrot internet meme terms, but this song is what I would be unable to not describe as a “bop”. I mean the drums alone rip.

This song has a sister-track in the form of an introductory credit-sequence song which accompanies a ridiculously cute visualizer, and they’re both just perfect matches for the joyful, innocent and exuberant nature of the film itself. Elsewhere on the OST, this is basically the last time that I’m aware of Hisaishi using synthesizers and it’s just glorious. Get this man on drum-machines and synths again! So uh yeah, I mean it’s all just great. What else could I say? Best soundtrack of all time period. Full stop. The end.

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Ok that’s that. Keep in mind, there’s like a small hanful of Ghibli I still haven’t seen so there could be some major instance I’m missing but uh, maybe I’ll update if one day I find out there’s a straight up Utada Hikaru song in ‘Princess Kaguya’. Oh and uh yeah there’s this one in ‘When Marnie Was There’ by one Priscilla Ahn . It’s like a b-side of the Kiki song but not as good as that makes it sound like it’d be. But it’s horse-girl-core as hell. So uh yeah.

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see ya space cowboy~

#ghibli #soundtrack #pop music #vocals #instrumentals #yumi mastutoya #omoide no nagisa #whisper of the heart #john denver #olivia newton-john #when marnie was there #country roads #kiki's deliver service #only yesterday #the carpenters #priscilla ahn

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besttourismdeals-blog · 4 years

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How To Find The Finest Places To Visit In India?

A place where there is stunning decent variety, India Travel fills all the faculties with amazement. From its old legacy and customs to its eminent design and staggering scenes, the nation offers something for each sort of voyager. Here are probably the best goals to design an occasion in 2018.

Kasauli A Place Tha Has Romance In Its Air

Kasauli is one of the most peaceful and lovely goals of Himachal Pradesh in the Solan Valley. Monitored by the snow-topped mountains, blossoming streams, splendid greeneries, knolls and canvassed in the cover of thick timber wood timberlands, the goal has got everything. The antique old amazing Victorian houses standing erect in the bumpy surroundings under the quiet condition give the goal an appealing delight as though plunged directly from paradise. And all the words I am having right now for its depiction is a direct result of my ongoing outing to Kasauli Tourism in the most recent end of the week. It was enchanted to such an extent that during the whole excursion it kept me suffocating in its excellence. Entertain yourself with the beautiful

Rajasthan A Place Of Culture, Fairs & Festivals

From fantasy castles and epic strongholds to brilliant celebrations and natural life experiences, Rajasthan, the Land of the Kings, is India at its dynamic best. Various strongholds and castles, including Jaisalmer's fantasy dessert station, Amber's nectar tinted fortress royal residence and Jodhpur's forcing Mehrangarh can be seen all through the state. Staggering crafted works and expressive arts were created and supported through support by the maharajas. Numerous vivid celebrations, from pompously enriched mounts at the camel and elephant celebrations in Pushkar and Jaipur, individually, to the rainbow blasts of Diwali and Holi, are praised over the district.

Get Visited Mesmerizing Karnataka

A staggering prologue to southern India, Karnataka is a prosperous, convincing state stacked with a triumphant mix of urban cool, sparkling royal residences, national parks, antiquated remnants, seashores, yoga focuses and unbelievable hang-outs. At its operational hub is the capital Bengaluru (Bangalore), a dynamic city renowned for its specialty lager and eatery scene. Taking off of town you'll experience the evergreen moving slopes of Kodagu, specked with flavor and espresso ranches, the grand quality of Mysuru (Mysore), and wildernesses abounding with monkeys, tigers and Asia's greatest populace of elephants. Head to the counter-social enclave of serene Hampi with loungers, hallucinogenic nightfalls and stone were strewn ruins or the happy, for all intents and purposes immaculate coastline around Gokarna, favored with excellent inlets and void sands.

The Appealing Himachal Pradesh

With fabulous cold pinnacles and plunging waterway valleys, lovely Himachal is India's open-air experience play area. From trekking and moving to the boat, paragliding, and skiing, it very well may be done here. Tangled geology of interlocking mountain chains likewise makes Himachal an awesome spot basically to investigate, by transport, vehicle, motorbike, jeep or foot. Towns roosted on stunning inclines captivate with fantasy design and their kin's agreeable warmth. Slope stations bid with an occasion air and frontier echoes, while explorer magnets draw with their delighted out vibe and mountain excellence. Such is the wealth of the Himachali jigsaw that in McLeod Ganj, the Dalai Lama's home-away-from-home, and in Lahaul and Spiti, with their hundreds of years old Buddhist societies, you may even think you've unearthed Tibet.

A Place Of God Kerala

For some voyagers, Kerala is South India's most peacefully delightful state. A thin waterfront strip is formed by its layered scene: practically 600km of wonderful Arabian Sea coast and seashores; a slow system of sparkling backwaters; and the flavor and tea-secured slopes of the Western Ghats. Simply going to this swath of soul-extinguishing, palm-concealed green will ease back your subcontinental walk to a pleasured out to wander. Kerala is a world away from the free for all of somewhere else, as though India had gone through the Looking Glass and turn into an out and out increasingly laid-back spot.

A Captivating Kashmir and Ladakh

The territory of Jammu and Kashmir (J&K) unites three unimaginably various universes. Jammu and Katra, in the south, are the state's rail center points and a significant draw for residential explorers. Kashmir is India's Switzerland, drawing in swarms of nearby voyagers looking for cool summer air, elevated view and Srinagar's sentimental houseboat settlement. And afterward, there's the Himalayan place where there is Ladakh, which for most outsiders is the state's most noteworthy fascination. their immortal cloisters are set between parched gulches and taking off pinnacles, while emerald-green towns settle photogenically in good country deserts.

Get Visited The Attractive Uttar Pradesh

There are not many states more quintessentially Indian than Uttar Pradesh. The subcontinent's noteworthy and strict roots – Hindu, Buddhist, Islamic and common – interweave right now holy waterways and immense fields, showing insights vital. Beside famous Agra, UP is home to Varanasi, India's holiest city, acclaimed for its incineration ghats and lively services along the Ganges River. Stories disclose to us that Krishna was conceived in Mathura, while Rama was conceived in Ayodhya. Buddha gave his first message in Sarnath and passed on in Kushinagar, presently peaceful journey goals. Also, the Mughals and the Nawabs made their imprints too, abandoning structural and gastronomic artful culminations – especially in Lucknow (and obviously Agra).

Get Visited Madhya Pradesh

The spotlight doesn't hit Madhya Pradesh (MP) with a remarkable same brightness as it sparkles on increasingly commended neighboring states, so you can encounter travel wealth positioning with the best without that sentiment of simply following a vacationer trail. Khajuraho's sanctuaries bristle with probably the best stone cutting in India, their lovely sexual figures a simple cut of the compositional marvels of a locale exceedingly blessed by the gods with castles, fortresses, sanctuaries, mosques, and stupas, most wonderfully in the towns of Orchha and Mandu. Tigers are the other large news here, and your odds of recognizing a wild Royal Bengal in MP are on a par with anyplace in India. Journey cum-explorer safe houses, for example, Maheshwar and Omkareshwar on the Narmada River are injected with the otherworldly and relaxing vibes for which India is famous.

A Ravishing Place Tamil Nadu

Tamil Nadu is the country of one of mankind's living old-style civilizations, extending back continuous for two centuries and particularly alive today in the Tamils' language, move, verse and Hindu religion. Yet, this profound South state is as powerful as it is drenched in the convention. Fire-loving fans who smear tikka on their foreheads in Tamil Nadu's broadly stupendous sanctuaries may surge off to IT workplaces – and afterward, loosen up at a stylish evening frequent in quickly modernizing Chennai (Madras) or with sun greetings in bohemian Puducherry (Pondicherry). At the point when the hot the disarray of Tamil sanctuary towns overpowers, getaway toward the southernmost tip of India where three oceans blend; to the awesome chateaus sprinkled across parched Chettinadu; or up to the cool, woods clad, untamed life sneaked the Western Ghats.

Heavenly West Bengal

A bit of fruitful land running from the tea-hung Himalayan lower regions to the sultry mangroves of the Bay of Bengal, West Bengal offers an exceptional scope of goals and encounters. In the tropical southern regions, the ocean washed village of Mandarmani strives for consideration with Bishnupur's fancy earthenware tiled Hindu sanctuaries and castles. The striped Bengal tiger stealthily who swims through sloppy rivulets in the beautiful Sunderbans. while a lot of European phantom towns line the banks of the Hooghly (a part of the Ganges) further upstream as tokens of the state's sea prime. In the cool northern slopes, the 'toy train' chugs its way up the enchanting British-period slope station of Darjeeling worshipped for its ringside perspectives on enormous Khangchendzonga. West Bengal additionally flaunts a lively craftsmanship scene, flavorful cooking, and a truly accommodating populace.

A Stunning Place Upper East States

Tossed over the most distant scopes of India, darkened from the more prominent world by ever-enduring backwoods and considerable mountain goes, The Northeast States are one of Asia's last extraordinary characteristics and anthropological havens. Offering outskirts to Bhutan, Tibet, Myanmar (Burma) and Bangladesh, these remote wildernesses are an area of tough magnificence, and a crash zone of ancestral societies, atmospheres, scenes, and people groups. Right now, swashbucklers, chilly Himalayan waterways spill onto Assam's huge floodplains, confidence moves mountains on the hazardous journey to Tawang, rhinos munch in Kaziranga's swampy meadows and previous talent scouts gradually grasp innovation in their tribal longhouses in Nagaland.

#kasauli #india travel #kasauli Tourism

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urdbell18 · 5 years

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Madamspellman Teacher AU Chapter 2: The One With the first Day That Came From Hell

Yay chapter 2! So I’m going to be posting new chapter every other Sunday/ Monday. Once again my lovely beta Mostlygay fluff helped a lot to bring you guys this chapter. Enjoy!

September the third marked the day that Zelda became a working mother.

On Tuesday, her alarm went off at five AM. Vida whimpered but settled back down when Zelda turned it off. She showered and did her hair and makeup in the bathroom, usually she did all this at her vanity out of habit from when she shared the room with Hilda, but now it was to not disturb her daughter. So when she exited her room, shoes in hand to silence her presence, she was fully dressed, hair perfectly in place. Her makeup and everything about her was immaculate as she made her way downstairs for breakfast. At the hour still clinging to five she was the only one who was up, hard boiling an egg, placing toast in the toaster, and turning on the coffee machine. It didn’t take much effort and it was rather soothing listening to the bubbling of the water and the aroma of french roast coffee wafting in the air. At around six thirty Hilda came down, bubbly as ever, with Sabrina, still half-asleep, trailing behind her. Zelda was reading through the newspaper that came in the mail the day before. Sometimes it would be the local paper, but usually it was a paper from an outside source in another language. Mostly French or Russian, a hobby of hers that became a part of her routine, keeping the papers was new though. By seven, they would know if Ambrose came home, he’d come in a robe and slippers half desperate for a bowl of cereal. Zelda made her way back upstairs, she needed to be leaving for the school by seven thirty but she wanted to say goodbye to her still sleeping daughter. Vida was sleeping in the center of the bed on her stomach, still wrapped in her blankets and holding Oso by one of his fuzzy paws. Gently, Zelda fell to her knees by the bed where her daughter slept, pressing a kiss on the girls head.

“See you later my sweet girl.” Vida murmured a little and Zelda held her breath, fearful that she woke her daughter, but the girl settled down once again. As carefully as she did coming in, Zelda left, she made it to the door when her daughters voice stopped her.

“Mommy?” When Zelda turned back around, Vida moved so that she was facing her mother.

“Go back to sleep baby. Mommy has to go to work. Aunt Hilda will take you to school, I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Okay. Love you Mommy.” Zelda couldn’t help the tears that stung her eyes, she just felt so much for her daughter, her precious little girl. Zelda went back and gave Vida another kiss, this time on her cheek. When they hugged, her daughter’s small arms felt warm and heavy on her shoulders.

“I love you too my darling.” The clock sounded the half hour and Zelda reluctantly left her daughters side, it wouldn’t look good if she was late on her first day. Hilda and Sabrina were waiting by the door, Hilda sent them off with a hug and a packed lunch.

Zelda made it with five minutes to spare. Before the holiday break she had everything already set up. Her first class syllabus as well this school year student planner were already set up on the desks, which she arranged in neat rows and attendance sheets on her desk, dated and ready to go. At the sound of the bell, students started trickling in, before the late bell rang she had all seventeen of her students for French 3, they made a strong impression on Zelda.

From there the day seemed to be going well. Her Russian and Italian classes went relatively well minus a poor freshman student who ended up in her class by mistake. It was at the start of period 4 when the day started to blow up in her face. At the end of third period she had to step out to use the restroom, it was only five minutes, seven tops, but when she came back her students, jocks by the look of their jackets, had destroyed her class room. Desks were pushed out of line and there were smudges on her black boards that weren’t there before, caused most likely by the football that was being tossed around. That same football smacked her right in the face. At least it got them to settle down. Despite the setback, and the stinging of her cheek, Zelda carried on like nothing happened.

“Alright students, listen up I’m only going to say this once. I don't like to repeat myself so if you miss it that’s on you. My name is Ms. Spellman and I am here to teach you Spanish not to be your friend, or your babysitter. I’m an educator here to educate a group of young adults, I expect you all to act as such. Which means I don’t want to see that football again in my class Mr. Grinwis, next time you lose it.” The whole class looked at him, he tried not to flush with embarrassment as he slouched in his seat hiding his football in his jacket. “By the end of the week I expect you all who didn’t read the supply list to have a composition notebook that will be used for this class and this class only. You will be leaving your notebooks in here, placing them in the designated bin for this class.” Zelda indicated the row of bins that sat on the window ledge behind her desk, each bin had a tab on the front that had the period and class. “Those of you who do not have a notebook by the following Monday will lose half a point everyday until you acquire one. Those who did read the supply list and already have a notebook will receive five extra credit points. By the end of class place your notebooks in the bin with your names written on them like they say in your syllabus.” Some of her students groaned while a few smiled, Zelda was already making notes on who was getting those extra credit points. “Now I won’t be going over the whole syllabus, I’m sure you can do that on your own, but these are some things I will point out…” She discussed the syllabus until the lunch bell, her students practically ran out of the room except Rosalind and Susie who lingered to place their journals, properly filled out, in the bin.

By then her cheek was killing her, she was hoping to avoid having to do it but it looked like she was going to the nurses office. The trip turned out to be a complete waste of time, the nurse asked her a bunch of questions before sending her with an ice pack and calling it a day. Zelda scoffed, making a mental note to keep aspirin in her desk, but couldn’t dwell on it. She was hungry for lunch. Lunch turned out to be a turkey sandwich with apple slices, sun baked chips, and a drink pouch that Zelda couldn’t confirm wasn’t for Sabrina. Zelda wasn’t going to complain. The ice numbed her cheek enough to get through most of her sandwich but by her apple slices it became difficult to chew let alone bite.

“That looks serious.” Mary Wardwell stood in her doorway again, this time to her private office where Zelda took her lunch, wanting some peace. “What happened?”

“Football to the jaw.”

“Boys.” The amount of venom in Ms. Wardwell’s voice would have surprised Zelda if she didn’t already know about her fellow teachers dislike for the football players. It was one of the reasons why Sabrina liked Ms. Wardwell. “Think that they can get away with anything. Here,” Ms. Wardwell held out a small white bottle. “I heard you might need these.” Aspirin, Zelda took two dry having finished the juice pouch. When she looked up ready to give back the bottle, Ms. Wardwell was gone leaving nothing behind but the smell of her perfume. For a moment Zelda thought she was delusional but she couldn’t have imagined the woman, the evidence was in her hands. Which led her to wonder, how did Ms. Wardwell learn about the forming bruise on her face?

“Auntie Zee are you okay?” Sabrina, it made perfect sense now. Rosalind and Susie were in her class when it happened, they told her niece and somewhere along the way Ms. Wardwell heard. Reassuring her niece took the rest of the lunch hour, but Zelda suspected that Sabrina still had doubts that she was truly okay.

Four o’clock could not be more of a relief for Zelda. She didn’t have anything to grade, first day of the school year and all, but Principal Hawthorne called a staff meeting when she was packing up for the day. It was a little irritating, she had cleaned and set up her black boards for the next day, her cheek was throbbing again, and all she wanted was to go home and be with her family, she missed her daughter terribly. Her irritation boiled to a seething rage when it became clear that the meeting was about football of all things. Mr. Hawthorne made it clear, in an off handed manner that just deepended her anger, that all staff members were to attend Greendale Highs first home game of the season which was this Saturday. It took him an hour to say this and she could tell that she wasn’t the only one that was not pleased with having to attend and having her time wasted with something that could be announced over the intercom or in a memo. Ms. Wardwell looked particularly murderous, she kept glaring, her eyes looked darker than their crystal blue color, and her fingers wouldn’t stop tapping against the long wood table that the teaching staff gathered around. She was the first to leave when they were dismissed, scowling in a way that everyone heard her as she walked out the door. Zelda was not that far behind her, gathering her things so that she could leave straight to her car, but Mr. Hawthorne asked if she could stay for a minute, considering what mood she was in he should be grateful that she planted her feet and placed on the most civilized smile she could muster.

“Was there something else you needed Mr. Hawthorne?”

“I just wanted to see how you were feeling after your first day. I heard about the um…”

“The football that was being thrown in my class and struck me in the face.”

“Yes, that. It looks quite painful.” Zelda didn’t need Mr. Hawthorne to tell her that. When she went to the bathroom not long after school let out she saw her own face and cringed. That blasted football hit her on the apple of her cheek, the bruise spread to look like she had a black eye and the color… no wonder her sixth period Chinese class wouldn’t look her in the face, it was ghastly, black and blue with a hint of red and her cheek swelled about half its normal size. “It was an unfortunate accident I’m sure?” That tone, it made her sick, because while it was an accident, if on the off chance it wasn’t it was going to be written as such and there was nothing she could do about that.

“Is that all Mr. Hawthorne? I’m tired and would like to start heading home.”

“Of course. Would you like an escort?”

“No thank you Mr. Hawthorne I can manage on my own.”

“Oh. Very well. What about Saturday? I know Greendale isn’t that big but did you need a ride to the game or afterwards?” A violent shiver went down Zelda’s back at the thought of being alone with Mr. Hawthorne, she didn’t like being alone in a room with him a car was just unthinkable.

“No thank you Mr. Hawthorne I’m sure I can manage. May I?” Mr. Hawthorne barely nodded when she, in a single swoop, took her case and coat and took her leave. When she glanced at her watch the time was four thirty, a whole half hour wasted, on something she didn’t care about when all she wanted to do was to go home and be with her daughter.

Ten minutes later Zelda was pulling up in front of Greendale Elementary, she remembered the building back when Sabrina was a student and it hasn’t change at all. Students waited with teachers as parents came in and out, most of them on foot, to collect their children. Students who had a sibling or relatives in the upper schools or in grade fourth or higher were allowed to walk home themselves, only with parental consent, at least that’s what Zelda remembered back when Sabrina was a grade schooler. Vida was waiting for her in the small school yard, supervised by a teacher as she and other children played on the jungle gym, swinging as high as her little legs could take her.

“Mommy!” When her feet touched the ground she ran over to Zelda. Hilda did her hair in pigtails they bounced like little springs. She scooped her daughter up, holding her close.

“Hello my darling, you have no idea how I missed you. Did you have a good day?” Her daughter just nodded, she was probably just as tired as Zelda was. Zelda located a teacher, another thing she remember from Sabrina was that only an authorized person (a list which was provided at enrollment) can take the child, if they were grade three or under one teacher would have a list of all the students and Zelda signed by her daughters name. Vida was asleep by the time Zelda placed her in her car seat, she looked peaceful, shadows of the woods and the leaves playing across her face as they drove home after a long day. Nothing felt better.

#Zelda Spellman #Madam Satan #madam spellman

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tomasorban · 5 years

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THE ZODIAC: VIRGO THE VIRGIN

Date of Rulership: 23rd August-22nd September; Polarity: Negative, female; Quality: Mutable; Ruling planet: Mercury; Element: Earth; Body part: Solar plexus and bowels; Colour: Dark brown, green; Gemstone:Sardonyx; Metal: Mercury or nickel.

Up until now, the formative forces expressed by the zodiac under the signs of Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, and Leo have been orientated towards the inner realm of self-expression and self-actualization, and particular an expression that doesn’t wish to be hindered by external influences or contingencies. This all changes with Virgo, a sign whose potency derives from the ethereal element of earth and mutability. Virgos are quite like a combination of metal oxides, minerals, and organic matter otherwise known as clay. They adapt quickly to the pulling, pushing, thrashing, twisting, folding, and overturning caused by the protean elements of the environment through sharpened faculties of common sense and level-headed thinking. If Virgo were a cosmic process, it would be an accelerated version of natural selection; if it were an animal, it would be a rainforest chameleon; and if it were a person, it would more than likely be a molecular biologist. The three just mentioned things partake of the same methodology when it comes to encountering reality and the world: they all start by apportioning a state, condition, or situation into its respective subcomponents; then studying the composition of each piece, its practical purpose, its relation to the other parts, and all possible forms of interaction; and finally pondering all possible outcomes and consequences should any unforeseen mechanistic failure or breakdown in communication between the parts ensue. Moreover, the mutable energies of Virgo are meticulously practical and conscientious; they will measure, demarcate, and map out their worldview before ruffling through to weed out items of information that are superfluous, insignificant, of no intellectual or creative interest, or of no practicable use. Virgo is a focused sign and sees no value in going off on wild goose chases or intellectual tangents that are merely products of curiosity rather than data aligned into a chronological tree of final causes.

Thus Virgo is the “analyst” of the zodiac, the sentient filter that gathers, stores, retrieves, analyses and prioritizes information in a mental filing system designed to sharpen the conscious will and force the ego along its chosen path and trajectory of evolution. To arrive at this state of being, Virgo had to sift through an array of primary characteristics from preceding signs and single out the ones it wanted: from Taurus it borrowed willpower, diligence, and focus; and from Cancer it acquired the desire to mother and nurture others, especially those beings that seem helpless and in need of protection or attention. Virgo’s innate tendency towards analysis, its sedate disposition, and its agenda rendered the traits of the other three signs–Aries, Gemini, and Leo–both undesirable and incompatible, and hence it bypassed the lot without a second thought.

“You know guys and girls, I’m a bit like extra virgin olive oil,” says Virgo. “I am well aware of my own composition, texture, colour, and taste. I know my own essence, what I mix well with, and what I don’t mix with at all. I can also tell you without the slightest doubt that I’m good for you, and that I probably know what’s best for you better than you do. The endeavour that we call life is best approached from an angle that involves formulating plans and putting them into action. Throw in a bit of salt and pepper in the form of self-discipline and hard work and you have a recipe for instant success and satisfaction. It’s as simple as that. Those of you who say or do otherwise are either naïve, ill-informed, delusional, or plain stupid, and you can be certain that I’ll be giving you the “I-told-you-so” lecture somewhere down the track for taking detours onto dirt roads which lead to oblivion. We never, ever let our hearts usurp the position held by our heads–this sentiment extends to all areas of life, including family, love, sex and relationships, profession and career, finance, and so forth.

In any case, if you’re not quite sure as to how the mechanics of this little secret works I’d be more than happy to forfeit some my own time and give you a demonstration. There’s nothing more satisfying than giving to a fellow projection of the conscious universe, a brother or sister, and you can be more than certain that God, salvation, and peace are to be found in such moral, selfless, and loving acts. I do have some insight into my own psychic makeup, and understand that my love of perfectionism, my sense of righteousness, and my “know-it-all” approach can intimidate, irritate, and anger others. This has nothing to do with conceit or being up myself but rather a love for the world and my devotion to it. Why can’t people wake up and realise what’s good for them I say? Why do they make the same mistakes, over and over, without learning from them? How can the most intellectual of earthly creatures be so incompetent and inefficient sometimes? We need to listen before we speak, prepare before we do battle, and look before we jump. If people adhered to these very simple guidelines, there’d be a hell of a lot less grief in the world!”

From what we can see, Virgo is obviously a reflective sign that places a colossal emphasis on education and learning. And what Virgo aptly sees in this temporal and sometimes chaotic world of change and evolution quicker than any other sign is that self-preservation is dependent upon doing things in moderation. When physical, mental or emotional energies are utilized to extremes for prolonged periods of time, the individual will manifest wear and tear that inevitably leads to burnout. The best way to avoid hitting a wall, according to Virgo, is to engage in periodic exercise, eat a nutritious diet high in protein, complex carbohydrates, fibre and coloured vegetables, and cordon off a few hours each day for solitary endeavours intended to cultivate the soul. Learning new skills and refining natural talent is way more important and meaningful to a Virgo than being a social magnet or an energy vampire. From this perspective it’s easy to see why the Virgo man or woman admires, respects and holds in the highest esteem individuals who are intellectually and academically inclined.

In neural physiology, we might align Virgo with the rational, mechanistic, and dominant scientist that lives in the left hemisphere of our brains. Like the latter, Virgo is only interested in knowledge pertaining to reality that is collected by the sense faculties and categorized through deductive reasoning. Unlike the latter though, Virgo discriminates between knowledge collected on the basis of its usefulness. If theory or knowledge cannot be applied in some concrete way to improve the present conditions of life, then there’s no point in even knowing about it. As far as Virgo is concerned, anything abstract and speculative or anything that evades human comprehension and classification is simply not worth any vested time or effort.

There are two symbols associated with Virgo the Virgin. The first is a reclining woman, an obvious allusion to the Great Mother Goddess in all her guises (i.e. the virgin, the crone, the good mother, the temptress or seductress, the whore, and so forth). She is the stellar goddess of innumerable names: for the ancient Babylonians and Assyrians she was Ishtar, the all-encompassing deity of love, war, fertility and sex; for the ancient Egyptians she found expression through the feminine triad of Nut-Hathor-Isis; for the ancient Greeks she was a triune spirit encompassing the Olympian deities Artemis, Athena, and Hestia; and for the Imperial Romans she was Ceres, the maternal goddess of agriculture, grain crops and fertility who was always depicted holding a sheaf of corn. One would have to say that the most recognized religious iconography associated with this zodiacal sign is that of the Christian Mary, the Immaculate Virgin and Queen of Heaven who brought forth the incarnation of God the Father in Jesus Christ the Son.

In classical mythology, the stellar constellation of Virgo was inextricably linked with Astraea, the goddess of justice and innocence. According to the Hellenes, there was a time when the immortals were thriving alongside the mortals on Earth. Back then the world was largely devoid of diseases, plagues, burdens, and other conditions detrimental to general health, wellbeing and contentment. This was to change with the curiosity of Pandora, who made the tragic mistake of opening a cursed box gifted to her by the immortals themselves for the sake of testing her willpower in consort with her ability to toe the line and follow simple instructions. Save for being the source of all misfortunes for mankind, Pandora also became the reason for the gods and goddesses to desert their corporeal posts. Even Astraea, the most tolerant and patient amongst them, surrendered all hope of a swift redemption for mankind and fled to the mount of heaven when she saw that the ravages of war had escalated to a degree of barbarity that left expired mercenaries without dignity. It is said that Astraea will descend from her celestial throne to Earth again when the human psyche returns to its former Adamic state of spiritualization.

The second symbol, an astrological shorthand for the zodiacal sign, looks like the small letter ‘m’ with a curved projection linking the top and bottom parts of the third leg. As a sygil, it bears a great many resemblances to two subsequent signs, Libra and Scorpio, both of which are intensely concerned with the collective social and psychospiritual evolution of humanity. On a great many occasions we find that the uroboric loop formed by the final leg is represented as a fish, the Piscean totem. Therefore we can infer that the glyph is denoting an ethereal condition where spirit or vital essence is in the process of incarnating in the dense, lower world of physical forms.

Both symbols together recall characteristics central to the Virgo archetype–discrimination, intelligence, refinement, serenity, self-control, dedication, assiduousness, orderliness, and self-discipline. Over and above the positive connotations linked to them, these qualities are typical by-products of highly evolved and spiritual states of consciousness mediated by Virgo’s formative energies. We can be certain that both signs place immense emphasis on ascension and specifically the ascension of the human soul because the totemic figure is often shown with a pair of angel wings. The position of Virgo on the great cosmic wheel also reveals that both signs have to make do with maternity and fertility, as well as the condition of having fulfilled all prerequisites leading up to any undertakings meant to test physical, psychological, or spiritual parameters.

#zodiac #astrology #astrotheology #astropsychology #psychology #consciousness

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xiajin · 6 years

Text

hello!! this has been posted here until i am free from my unfair jailing on ao3

jungkook blinks at the handsome young man sitting across from him.

his palms are sweating a little, maybe. jungkook feels warm at the back of his neck, behind his knees, and a little bit at his collar. he hopes that his button up is doing enough of god’s work to cover up any of his splotchy, unattractive blushes. his blind date for the evening is - well dressed, with immaculate hair and a nice smile, broad shouldered and well spoken. all things jungkook had written out very meticulously in his ideal type box on the first ever dating app he’s ever had to download.

it was rough, trying to find the most flattering picture of him, but with jimin and taehyung’s help - and heavy judgement - he managed to make himself look mildly dateable. at least, he thinks so. hobbies? working out, eating lots late at night, drawing, singing, dancing, gaming, i like to do too much.... favorite food? pizza! favorite genre of music? you can only have one favorite genre of music? jungkook had answered all of these to the best of his ability, palms sweating all the while.

for the first few months of his freshman year at college, he had focused on getting himself situated into his new school and making friends, joining clubs, and working hard toward his vocal studies degree. he had took too much on at a little time, probably, and finished off a lot of early requirement classes. it had been a blur, all those months, but it had been worth it because - now, in his sophomore year, he has practically nothing to do. all his classes are light enough and easily handled during the four days he goes to class. an entire weekend to himself? he’s never had this before. and so with his newfound free time and one too many nights of loneliness underneath his belt, he figured that such an opportunity couldn’t be wasted.

he is going to get a boyfriend.

fast forward to here and now, because jungkook can’t find men the usual way, like in romcoms or in webtoons or in books. no one accidentally falls in love. he has to be proactive (says jimin) and willing to take risks (says taehyung). he wants to be hiding in a hole (says jungkook).

“so, you go to one of the schools nearby?” the guy across from him says. his name is seokjin, he’s in grad school, and he’s so handsome jungkook wants to punch something. “what are you majoring in?”

“vocal performance,” he admits, voice a little quieter than he wants it to be. seokjin leans in a little bit to hear, so jungkook clears his throat and says in an embarrassingly louder tone, “and music composition.”

“oh, nice,” seokjin compliments. “i used to major in theatre, haha. always thought i would be an actor,” his eyes glint playfully, and jungkook wants to blurt out ohmygodyoudefinitelylooklikeonehowisyourbonestructurereal but manages to catch himself in time. “but then i ended up going into screenwriting. maybe you’ll see one of my dramas in the future?”

“maybe,” jungkook says in an embarrassingly high voice. he clears his throat, tries to make himself sound less like he’s going through puberty again, and drinks his glass of water. “so, um. have you ever eaten here before?”

“i don’t think so,” seokjin says, looking at the menu in front of them, raising an eyebrow. “do you see anything you like? hyung will pay.”

right; seokjin is five years older than him. jungkook unclenches his hands and smooths over the fabric of his jeans that have long since been wrinkled with his fingerprints. he picks up the menu, glad to have some reprieve from staring at seokjin long enough to be a creeper. they manage to make small talk, mentioning anything and everything from the weather to action figures. jungkook is still a little nervous, feels it in the way he shuffles his feet underneath the table, but when the waiter brings their first appetizer to them -

“seokjin hyung?” he says, a good looking guy with a heart shaped smile. he wasn’t their waiter from before, but jungkook didn't think it was a big deal. “you’re off shift now? wow, on a date?” followed by a saucy wink. seokjin makes a sound like something is dying in his throat, and when jungkook looks over at him, he has his eyes wide - mouth open to say something - “he’s a great guy, by the way,” the waiter continues cheerfully. “hard worker, too. you’re definitely not going wrong with this one. i’ll tell the chef that the food is on the house!” he gives them both a two fingered salute before heading off into the distance, probably into the back kitchen.

“um,” jungkook says faintly.

seokjin, who abruptly hides his face in his hands, loses all effect of coolness and hides his face in his hands with a groan.

“so,” jungkook starts again, feeling a lot less nervous, “you work here?”

turns out seokjin is actually a broke grad student who really likes cooking and making food alongside theatre, and screenwriting doesn’t really pay too well. he works at this restaurant as a waiter and sometimes as a cook when the time calls for it to make enough money on the side to feed himself and have some spending money. he wanted to go on a date with jungkook to get over someone quite bad, and wanted to take him somewhere nice, but then the place that he wanted to take jungkook for dinner had closed down at the last minute and he had no other choice.

“i look like an idiot now,” seokjin mumbles, playing with the bread on the table. “i, uh.”

jungkook smiles; for the first time that night, looking at seokjin being so nervous and unable to talk over his own words, he finds that he’s not too nervous after all. “its okay, hyung. i actually think i like this you better.” seokjin peers at him, eyebrow raised, and jungkook admits, “it was kind of nerve wracking sitting here across from you, thinking you were perfect. i like the imperfect kim seokjin better.”

they both share a laugh.

“he’s just so nice,” jungkook says into the pillow, muffled, “and so good looking, and so funny. like, he gets on my nerves a little but it’s a good kind of gets on my nerves and his shoulders are so wow.”

“wow,” yoongi agrees, distracted from where he’s clicking away on his computer. jungkook rolls over on the edge of the sofa in yoongi’s studio, staring up at the ceiling and feeling distinctly ignored.

“hyung.”

“i’m listening,” yoongi says, same inflection, his eyes never leaving the computer screen.

jungkook throws his pillow at him.

“ow, the fuck?” it hits bullseye, a one shot at the back of his head. yoongi jerks forward a little in his chair before turning around, eyes spelling murder. “you little brat.”

“listen to me,” jungkook insists. “hyung, i’m having a crisis.”

“i thought you figured out your gayness in high school.”

“hyuuuuuuung.”

something about his pleading tone must work, because yoongi turns around with the most resigned face ever. in a pair of old sweats and one of his hoodies, he looks like any other college student, even though they both know he isn’t. out of everyone currently working in music production at their school, yoongi is most well known for being able to sell some of his tracks and make it big in the industry already as a songwriter. he doesn’t have to be getting his masters - there are already three different labels jungkook can name off the top of his head that would sign him - but he’s still doing it anyway. hanging out in this shabby studio apartment that he shares with jungkook, working on his music in a chair he complains about half the time, and eating ramen for dinner when jungkook isn’t there to either a) smack him for it or b) eat alongside with him.

“yes, okay, tell me now about your love life,” yoongi deadpans, although his mouth is pulled up in a half smile. “i’m so interested. riveting. inspirational.”

“you’re so ugly,” jungkook mumbles before turning around to face the opposite side of the sofa. “forget it.”

“jeon jungkook, don’t you fucking do that to me. you know i hate that shit.”

jungkook sticks his tongue out at him.

easily, yoongi goes, “after all that i’ve done for you.” with a click of his tongue and a couple of well placed, meaningful head shakes. “what a brat.”

“i really think i could get myself to like this one, hyung,” jungkook starts all of the sudden, the words slipping from his mouth from the edge of his lungs where everything feels like it’s hard to breathe. “i dunno. he’s very likeable. kind of a dork.”

yoongi says nothing, but jungkook knows just what expression he has: gentle, if not a little bit embarrassed, the way he always gets when they talk about feelings. a bit mopey. slim eyes will stare at jungkook and hang onto every word; yoongi has a way of listening to you that makes you feel important. jungkook plays with a loose thread on the sofa, flicking it in between his fingers.

“you didn’t feel that spark right away, huh?” yoongi says, quiet, and jungkook hates how he can just - get to the bottom of it so quickly, so easily. his shoulders sag. “i thought you were nervous about the date. texted me, jimin, and taehyung all at once, wanting to know what outfit to wear - feeling lightheaded, all of that.”

he does feel a spark around someone, feels lightheaded around a certain person; always ends up searching for them in a crowd, wanting to hear them laugh, wanting to be close to them. jungkook has been stupidly in crush with yoongi for a long time, longer than he can even remember. he wants to sometimes to punch himself in the face for falling in love with his closest friend and roommate, especially when the other hasn’t given him a single sign of being interested in jungkook in return. yoongi’s hard to parse out sometimes - he’s always so into his music and his work, romance never seems to be on his radar. the last time jungkook asked if he liked someone after plucking his courage up after three shots and a whole lot of pep talking, yoongi had just shrugged.

so - yes, jungkook is nervous, always nervous at some level around yoongi, wanting something from him that he probably can’t get. if he can convince himself that they’re really just good friends, that getting a boyfriend will be good for him to finally get over yoongi, then - that’s what he’s going to do. he’s going to shove his fluttery feelings down his throat and hope he can smile at someone else in the future and have it feel real.

“i did,” he admits, “but then. i dunno - as soon as he started talking, i...” jungkook trails off, unsure. “it felt like another hyung i could get close to. maybe not as a boyfriend. i don’t know.” he’s not too sure what having a boyfriend feels like - so wrapped up in his own mind and his hobbies, jungkook’s never found time to really date. or even like someone intensely. he’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel when in a solid like. “i’m meeting him again tomorrow, what do you think - “ jungkook spins around abruptly, throwing his body against the edge of the sofa, and his voice dies a little in his throat.

for a moment - for a moment there had been - something strange in yoongi’s eyes, his expression not as gentle as jungkook is expecting. but then it smooths out a moment later, not a single moment in between for jungkook to discern what emotion had been painted clear across yoongi’s eyes.

“romance builds up with time,” yoongi says. “give it a couple more chances. if you really don’t like this guy as a love interest, then just tell him; but there’s no shame in trying to figure it out as you go.”

“love interest,” jungkook splutters. “who even calls it that?”

“your life is like a drama sometimes,” yoongi smirks. he flicks his pen at jungkook. “it’s amusing.”

“i literally stay at home on friday and like to taehyung about what i’m doing so he won’t drag me to the club.”

“slice of life dramas are always the most popular.”

“you’re ridiculous,” he laughs, but there’s something light unfurling in his chest. right - he doesn’t have to have it figured out right away. sure, he doesn’t know how much he likes seokjin for sure, but does that really matter? jungkook can take it easy, and go as slow as he wants. he can figure out his feelings and if there’s really nothing, then... would seokjin mind being friends? he seems like the cool type, but. jungkook’s only met him recently.

“thanks, hyung,” he says a couple of heartbeats later, lulled into a state of half sleep by the rhythmic sound of yoongi’s fingers on the keyboard and the warmth of their apartment. “really. you’re the best.” he closes his eyes to the dying light of day, basking warm and easy in the sunset. the best part about their apartment are the floor to ceiling windows; he mentally congratulations past jungkook on making good decisions and placing their very comfortable second hand leather sofa across from the glass panels.

absorbed in the easy atmosphere and almost asleep, he barely hears yoongi’s low voice, embedded with a strange tone - wistfulness. “don’t, gguk. i don’t deserve it.” he has half a mind to respond, but - it’s so faint that jungkook might have imagined it, yoongi’s voice. sometimes he hears it in his dreams, after all, and maybe - yeah, maybe that’s jungkook’s head talking, just a whispering note of a yoongi’s impression left fading at the forefront of his mind.

his second date with seokjin is at a bowling alley. jungkook’s always been a little bit too good at all physical things - he likes doing anything athletic, playing and working out and the like - but seokjin is no pushover either. they talk about their regimens and jungkook admits a little bit of envy and attraction to seokjin’s shoulders, which makes the other stand a little bit straighter. it’s endearingly cute, and jungkook wants to kick something because of it.

seokjin might have the same response, because he stares at jungkook for a moment when the other starts drinking his soda enthusiastically during lunch, lips pursed around the straw, and his fists clench.

at bowling, they manage to have a good time and actually break a pin in the process, knocking it so far against the back wall that it breaks clean in half. jungkook winces at the sound - seokjin did that - and they share a brief look of horror before one of the employees heads over to check out the damage. thankfully they didn’t have to pay anything - the pin was an old one - but it makes for a good story after. jungkook can’t help but laugh, remembering the way seokjin had dropped the next bowling ball he was holding a centimeter away from his foot, swearing all the while and looking like he might just want to burn his own wallet just to prevent anyone else from fucking him over. jungkook relates.

seokjin walks him to the bus stop and he leans in, sort of, like he wants to kiss jungkook real bad but then thinks better of it when jungkook stupidly leans back, blinking wide eyes at seokjin and wondering what the fuck is going on oh my god he hasn’t kissed anyone in years seokjin cannot kiss him or else he will combust. and revive himself and then die again.

instead, seokjin gives him a hug before his bus comes around. jungkook swallows thickly and sinks down onto the blue plastic seats, feeling like a major fool.

jungkook heads back to his apartment that night with a burning face, memories of a good time, and a strange rumbling low in his belly. he doesn’t know if it’s uneasiness or just a general sense of hungriness (he’s a growing boy) but he ends up in the kitchen, chowing down on a bag of chips and waiting for a pot of ramen to cook up without changing out of his date clothes. yoongi stands at the entrance of the kitchen, arms crossed, eyebrow raised.

“bad night?”

“no, it went well,” jungkook says, staring at water boiling. he can’t seem to meet yoongi’s eyes.

“why are you stress eating then?”

jungkook purses his lips. it only serves to remind him of seokjin’s mouth, which had been so so so close to his, and how he has perfectly shaped plump lips and he how he was probably thinking about kissing jungkook and all jungkook could do was sort of stare at him like he’d gone crazy. he puts a hand up to his mouth and thinks about the last time he’s kissed someone: in high school, a girl whose mouth tasted too much like artificial sweetener and cigarettes, who made him look at himself and go i don’t think i like girls that way. he’s never actually kissed a guy, spent the rest of his high school career with his head down.

“hyung, can you kiss well?”

there’s no sound for a moment, almost like yoongi isn’t breathing. blinking tiredly, jungkook looks over to see yoongi so still that he might as well not be breathing.

“um.” jungkook pushes away from the counter with a bit of effort. “hyung, are you breathing? do you want me to get your smelling salts?”

“don’t get that shit near my face,” yoongi starts, almost on autopilot, before he gives a little shake of the head - sort of like he’s trying to flick away whatever had rolled onto him at that very moment, like a puppy. “what the hell are you talking about, jungkook?”

“i mean,” jungkook clears his throat. “i was just...” he trails off, unsure how to go about this. how does you just admit that you’ve had like, one kissing experience in your life and that’s primarily because of your own inability to make romantic connections with people? jungkook makes a vague hand motion, hoping that it can encapsulate all he wants to say. yoongi gives him a flat stare.

“i don’t know how to kiss people, okay,” he groans, dragging his palms down across his face. “please leave me alone in my shame.” turning around, jungkook turns off the stove and pours his boiling water into the ramen bowl, adding a slice of cheese and shutting it with his half open chopsticks.

“hey,” yoongi’s voice is much closer now. a hand on his shoulder makes him give a little half turn, eyes peek up through his bangs. “that’s nothing to be ashamed about, you know? who gives a crap and all that?” yoongi’s never been too good at giving motivational speeches on the fly. although he sounds awkward now, jungkook can see the genuine worry in his eyes. “that date went well, huh?”

“it was weird,” he admits.

“good weird?”

maybe, he doesn’t want to say. instead, jungkook sighs and shakes his head, going, “maybe hyung can teach me how to kiss someone so i don’t live the rest of my life as a sad, kissless human being. it could make or break my relationship, you know,” he sighs dramatically, before snickering, feeling a bit better. yoongi’s hand is warm on his shoulder, but jungkook doesn’t realize the affect his words have on yoongi. not until the fingers on him tighten. “ah - yoongi-hyung?”

there’s that odd expression on yoongi’s face again, almost like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how. like it’s getting clogged up in his throat, a mess of pipes and uneasy rivers of thoughts. jungkook’s mouth parts, ready to say it’s a joke to diffuse this - this air around them, suddenly all charged and heavy, like darkness has fallen over them both. yoongi’s fingers are suddenly too warm, his body too close, and - jungkook’s eyes trail across the edge of his jaw with slight trepidation.

“you don’t know half the shit you say sometimes, huh,” yoongi starts, and while his voice sounds light, jungkook doesn’t think he’s ever seen his eyes so dilated. maybe it’s the light - it is pretty dim in here. he removes his hand and jungkook - feels its loss, the loss of him, keenly. “you’ll be fine, jungkook.” strange, strange little lights dance across the shadows playing on yoongi’s face.

“yoongi?” jungkook whispers, unable to breathe.

and then yoongi smiles, that same gentle smile that jungkook is familiar with, and air floods into his lungs. “i’m going to bed, gguk. i’ll see you tomorrow morning? we’re still getting groceries, right?”

“right,” he replies, muted and dazed, as yoongi leaves the room. jungkook reaches up to touch the tingles running across his skin, wondering what the fuck happened - why the hell his mind is spinning, dizzy, from the feeling of yoongi so close to him - when he’s never had this response before, when he’s always been so - so -

jungkook doesn’t feel to hungry anymore, but downs his ramen anyway. the scalding hot noodles at least take his mind off of it.

he doesn’t tell anyone about yoongi’s odd little reaction. jungkook doubts anyone would care, anyway, and - well, even though he’s known yoongi for two years now and lived with him for one, it’s not like he can say he knows absolutely everything about the other. yoongi’s usually an open person but he certainly doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. most of the time, it had been difficult for jungkook to discern what he was feeling and thinking; after they had moved in together, it became much easier, almost like a second nature. he thought that he knew all that he could about yoongi, but - but.

when jimin comes over with a couple bottles of beer and fried chicken, jungkook doesn’t question it. he doesn’t question a lot of things. taehyung follows after him while jimin calls out, “hey, yoongi-hyung! we bought some chicken!”

“save me a box!” they hear yoongi yell from somewhere in the kitchen. jungkook fusses over taehyung putting his shoes in the wrong place just to be fussy and taehyung grins before giving him a fond hair ruffle. jimin sets up the food on the table right away, eyes on the beer.

“he’s been having a rough time with the end of the year showcase,” taehyung tells him when jimin forgoes the chicken and heads straight for the beer. jungkook doesn’t know whether to cry or laugh. “he’s drinking his feelings away.”

“try to beat my iron liver, i dare you,” jimin says to both of them before downing another gulp. taehyung raises his hands in mock surrender before stealing a pillow off of the sofa and settling himself down next to jimin.

“did you get any spicy and sour chicken?” jungkook digs through the boxes for his favorite. “i need oil and grease to make me feel better about the state of my life, thanks.”

“what’s wrong with you?”

“nothing much,” jungkook pulls out the box and shuffles it toward himself. “just a constant state of existential crisis.”

“his panties are twisted for his awful dating skills,” taehyung informs jimin. “apparently their last date, the guy tried to kiss gguk and like the pure prude gguk is, he moved away at the last second.”

jungkook frowns. “shut up. i didn’t realize what was going on - “ while jimin goes, “there’s nothing wrong with being a pure prude, you know. some people have a kink for that - “

“stop,” he sighs, stuffing fried chicken in his mouth. “i just. i don’t know how to kiss. it’s so awkward and messy and - “ jungkook grimaces, thinking about his first kiss. he’s never really liked kissing. why can you do that when you can hold hands instead? “i would just rather not.”

“you, my friend, have not been kissed properly,” taehyung tsks. he points his chopsticks at jungkook the same way korean dads do when they want to prove a point. “if you were kissed properly at least once in your life, by someone good and experienced, i bet you wouldn’t be saying that.”

“what,” jungkook says faintly, and as luck would have it, the moment that yoongi walks into the room with a yawn hanging off the end of his fingers and laser eyes toward the food on the table.

“what’s up,” he says mildly, before plopping down next to jungkook and stealing a piece out of his sweet and sour box. jungkook, so out of it, doesn’t even slap his hand.

jimin speaks up first, going, “just telling jungkook that he hasn’t been properly kissed in his life.”

yoongi chokes.

“thanks,” jungkook says moodily, picking at his chicken again. whatever, it’s not like he has much to lose, right? his face gets bloated no matter what he does, so what does it matter? with this kind of thinking, jungkook sniffles a bit and goes forward into his food with gusto. taehyung pats him on the back.

clearing his throat, yoongi pulls the box away from jungkook, forcing him to breathe and take a step back. jungkook’s gaze barely flickers to him, but when it does, he can’t help but do a double take - yoongi’s a little pink, all around his ears and up the collar of his shirt. he frowns. “hyung, you okay?”

“nope,” jimin snorts.

“yeah, i’m fine,” yoongi, in true yoongi fashion, ignores him. “just had that chicken go down the wrong pipe, you know?”

“i’m sure he could teach you how to go down the right pipe,” jimin mutters.

“what?”

“nothing,” yoongi sends a sharp glare in jimin’s direction, who stifles a giggle. taehyung smacks him on the arm, which is reciprocated with his own smack. while they end up hitting each other all the while, making it into a competition. taehyung and jimin have a superpower of their own: the ability to disappear into their own world. jungkook sits cross legged, his knee touching yoongi’s. the other is focused steadily on the television screen, staring down a variety show so intensely he could burn it with his eyes.

“hey, hyung,” jungkook starts, “you really okay?”

yoongi turns to him then; jungkook’s eyes rove over the features of the man who has always been there for him no matter what throughout all these months, with his soft heart and his big presence. jungkook can’t imagine why anyone would be scared of yoongi; there’s nothing more gentle than the way yoongi’s eyes are, when he sits and listens to all of jungkook’s problems, when he laughs at something jungkook does.

“yeah, gguk,” he says fondly, “i’m fine.”

“okay,” he doesn’t push. jungkook settles back against the side of the sofa and puts the chicken box firmly in his lap; yoongi steals a couple pieces once in a while. jungkook ends up pressing a couple of pieces into his hand, getting them both sticky, but full and satisfied at the same time. jungkook tries not to think about how he wants to desperately fall asleep right then and there, warm and comfortable. taehyung and jimin pack up the rest of the beer even though jungkook hasn’t had any yet, keeping one in the fridge for him later but taking it with them. yoongi tells them not to hit their ass on the way out.

“don’t be mean,” he laughs, hiding the tired sound underneath his fingers.

“look at who this is coming from,” yoongi snorts. “you’re meaner to them than i am.”

“sometimes they deserve it,” jungkook argues, before realizing that he’s just proven yoongi’s point. “oh, wait, shit.”

yoongi’s laugh is low and familiar. jungkook can feel its vibrations in his rib cage, moving from where they’re pressed against each other through their shoulders, jungkook’s fingers digging into yoongi’s elbow.

“you’re ridiculous,” the other sighs, turning to look at him. he’s obviously not expecting jungkook to already be staring, so when yoongi’s eyes meets jungkook’s - he pauses.

they’re very close. jungkook thinks, did i ever notice that? when he sees the way yoongi’s eyes are darker than brown. sure, he’s been close - closer to yoongi - but somehow, this is different. the spaces in between them that grow steadily warmer, steadily closer, intertwining around each other -

jungkook’s fingers are sticky. yoongi smells like his aftershave and faint hints of his cologne, addicting. his hair is dry and frizzy in the way it gets after a shower day, hands resting somewhere on jungkook’s body; but it’s different, isn’t it, something is off. yoongi has touched him many times before. there’s just something - oh, there’s something electric this time, even where yoongi’s fingers are pressing into the material of his shirt, just one layer away from his bare skin.

jungkook doesn’t know why, but the thought of yoongi’s hands on his bare skin makes him shiver.

there’s no way yoongi didn’t feel it, the shudder that runs from the his neck to the base of his spine. the way it puts jungkook closer until they’re sharing breathes, and yet - somehow he’s still staring, blinking slow and easy, searching for the name of the expression painted across yoongi’s features. it’s not one he recognizes. jungkook isn’t sure how to deal with this - after a year, it was easy to believe he had pinned down every single one of yoongi’s expressions. now - well. now, jungkook isn’t so sure.

“hey,” yoongi breaks the momentum first, mouth moving over low spoken words, “it’s different to be properly kissed, actually.”

jungkook’s brain feels like mush. they’re moving in slow motion, wading through amber, warmth ramping up between bodies and skin and movement. jungkook presses closer without realizing, slipping across the edge of the sofa. yoongi’s words barely register. “mm.”

fingers reach up to cup the side of his face. yoongi’s palm is warm; the first time jungkook met him, he always expected yoongi’s skin to be ice cold, but it never is. he’s always warm. it’s a good representation of who yoongi is - how people see him versus how he really is. jungkook cocks his head into the space of yoongi’s palm; a thumb reaches up to brush, feather light, across his cheek bone. the nape of his neck is warm, a little sweater. his heartbeat is pounding loud in his ears.

yoongi opens his mouth like he wants to say something, lips parting. in the end he doesn’t; jungkook follows him almost mindlessly, mimicking the part of his mouth, and yoongi’s thumb moves from his cheek to his bottom lip, pulling it down with butterfly touches. his eyes aren’t focused on jungkook’s anymore, so focused on the way his thumb presses down against the pout of jungkook’s mouth.

“shit,” yoongi mutters, and swipes his thumb to side to replace it with his own mouth.

the first thing that jungkook registers is: insistence. yoongi’s head tilted toward his, the sight of his eyelashes at this angle, his hand cradling the side of jungkook’s face easily even when he’s pressing forward. and then - warmth, pooling first at his bottom lip before moving upward, and - then a sharp little feeling, like teeth. yoongi bites down a little on his bottom lip and it doesn’t just make that warmth bleed, it makes it ignite. jungkook feels it in his stomach, the way yoongi insistently pulls at him and then kisses it better. jungkook breathes out, surprised, and yoongi inhales it whole, trying to steal the breath from his lungs.

jungkook bounds forward, pushing onto yoongi with more force than probably needed; hands move to his shoulders to keep them in balance, and then his waist; jungkook reaches up to pull at yoongi’s hair to move him to a different angle, because jesus does it feel good -

and yoongi pulls back, both of them breathing the same air, pinkened cheeks and wandering fingers. jungkook blinks at yoongi, who looks like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

then it’s happening again.

more, this time. jungkook isn’t sure of what but it’s just more more more more, so much of yoongi in one place, pressing not just one kiss but may - over the corner of jungkook’s lip and on his cupid’s bow and on his nose before his mouth finds jungkook’s again, almost like he can’t help it, like he’s a beacon shining toward home. jungkook is swimming in dark, untreaded waters, his stomach rolling pleasantly and his head running a million miles an hour before it just stops, faced with a wall that he can’t climb over, faced with pleasure sparking across every nerve ending.

yoongi’s hand moves from his skin, feverish and warm, to the back of his neck - to his hair, where he runs his fingers through jungkook’s dark hair. the feeling is pleasant, tingles spreading over the back of his scalp, and then - yoongi pulls, just gentle but firm enough for jungkook to follow. there’s his mouth then at jungkook’s adam’s apple, the hollow column of his throat, a tongue at his collarbone and more teeth nipping the skin underneath his ear. sensitive, soft, jungkook groans and pushes at yoongi’s shoulder first - away, before curling his fingers into the material of his shirt and jerking him closer. it takes less than a second for yoongi to find his mouth again, and this time it’s dirty, no more simmering heat but a burning, burning, burning that starts where jungkook’s blood is pulsing heavy and thick in his ears and moving to his hands, to yoongi’s palms, to - yes, something about them - yoongi’s tongue in his mouth and his hand at the back of jungkook’s neck, which makes it impossible to breathe, head spinning heart soaring jungkook can’t seem to think straight.

yoongi pulls away. jungkook inhales greedily, moving forward ever so slightly the moment they break apart.

for a moment, neither of them say anything. jungkook blinks, slow movement, still panting almost into yoongi’s mouth.

“that’s a proper kiss,” yoongi says, trying to sound unaffected but falling flat; the little strain on his voice gives him away completely. jungkook still says nothing, still dumbstruck. yoongi’s hands move from where they’re gone to rest on his waist to his arms, pulling them away from a moment putting space - space, space, cold air between them. jungkook hates it almost instinctively. “i. shit, i didn’t mean to do that.”

“didn’t mean to do that,” he echoes, unable to do much else. his eyes are still wide, on yoongi.

“yeah, i - “ he sounds defensive, ears red red red, unable to look jungkook in the eye. this is another yoongi he’s never seen, so unsure of himself. yoongi is rarely ever caught off guard. “i wasn’t planning to kiss you, but then. you were really fucking close, and i couldn’t think about anything else - listen, i was going to work on it, alright? i had a whole plan to ask you out on a date but then seokjin happened and i was just - shit, i don’t know - “

“hyung,” jungkook starts, reaching forward to grab him by the collar, “shut up.”

he kisses him again. it’s not as good as yoongi’s delivery, but it gets the message across.

jungkook: u lil shits u knew exactly what u were doing w that kiss talk

jimin: if i didn’t take one for the team, no one would have

taehyung: [yoonkook_ship_is_sailing].jpeg

#sugakookie #yoonkook

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xxxdragonfucker69xxx · 6 years

Text

Shadow's first thought as he returned slowly to consciousness was that a barrel of firedust had gone off inside the Sanctuary. Well, that was his second thought. His first thought was that his head fucking hurt.

He was on the back of the sofa, which had been overturned so that its back was now a flat surface and its cushions were a wall. Something red was on the floor a centimeter from his face; Shadow blinked until it came into focus as a flimsy red cup.

Oh. Right.

On top of him, someone groaned. Shadow tilted his head up to see; he was at the bottom of a pile four men deep. Seal's legs were across Shadow's torso, though most of the boy's body was on the floor; above him was Harvester, with a blackened right eye, and atop them all was the new boy.

Broken Star Doomed to Fall groaned again, rousing slightly. Unfortunately, the motion caused him to unbalance, and the young Abyssal snapped awake as he crashed to the ground -- directly onto Seal's prone form. There was a clang as Star's metal wings met the floor on either side, then a beat, then a yelp as Seal realized what was on top of him and started thrashing. Star was apologizing, trying to get off, but the Wings seemed uncooperative today and were weighing him down. Shadow closed his eyes, channeled Essence into the shield of his anima, and concentrated on extricating himself.

Finally he made it out and stood next to Harvester, who apparently had the same idea; both their castemarks were bleeding, and both were surrounded by wisps of darkness. He met eyes with the other Daybreak, who looked slightly sheepish. "Maybe I shoulda started them with something a little less intense," Harvester said, scratching his head. "Especially for the kid's first big party."

Shadow looked around the room. Paper banners with Nevertheless' immaculate handwriting wishing a beautiful year were strewn across the Sanctuary, most of them ripped or with sections missing. Tower's enormous form was curled up on top of the TV cabinet, which had one door open to show a blank blue screen. Red cups were everywhere, many tipped over in front of incriminating puddles. Desecration was laid out on the nap sofa, a blanket laid over her; someone had drawn a mustache on her face, poorly. A dartboard on the far wall had a hole punctured through its center. As Shadow watched, the dartboard fell off to reveal that the hole went into and through the wood of the wall itself, with singe marks around the edges.

"Perhaps," Shadow said.

Star and Seal separated, finally upright. Star's shirt was completely shredded, either from the spikes in his own body or from the fight. Seal was breathing heavily and a little flushed. "Next time wake me up like a regular fucking person," he was yelling, "not by falling on me with a damn body full of knives."

"Can you pleashe schtop yelling," Star muttered, rubbing his forehead. "I shaid I was schorry. Schol, my head hurtsh."

"Leave him be, Seal," Shadow said, stepping in before the argument escalated any further. "Help me find my eyepatch." He had, indeed, clapped his hand over his bad eye a few moments ago when he realized he was melting the material of the table.

Star perked up visibly at Shadow's words. "Hey, I can do that!" he said. "I'm good at thish!" He took a step, then staggered. "Okay, maybe not sho musch right now. Shadow, can you Medishine Scharm me or shomefing?"

Shadow crossed his arms, though the effect was ruined slightly by having to keep his right eye closed. "I could, yes. But I think you'll be better served by learning a lesson. Consider it my birthday gift to you." Not that that stopped Shadow from quickly performing the Plague-Banishing Incitation on himself.

Star moaned and fell back onto the couch, covering his face with his hands. "Well, thatsh it den," he said. "I'm doomed. I'll die in my shleep. Betrayed, abandoned by my own friendsh --"

Seal was snickering not too quietly in the corner. Harvester tapped Star's forehead with a bottle of beer, miraculously intact. "Hair of the dog," he said. "That one's my birthday gift to you."

Shadow glared at Harvester, who shrugged. "Ain't no need for Charms when you got farm wisdom," he said, tapping the side of his head. Star used the opportunity to pry the bottle-cap off with his metal teeth; behind them, Seal started rapidly picking cushions up and putting them down, muttering to himself. Star chugged the bottle slowly and set it down.

"Whoa," he said, putting his hands out to steady himself. "I actually do feel better." Shadow frowned, then turned away internally to look through his All-Encompassing Sorcerer's Sight. Sure enough, a trail of healing Essence emanated from where Harvester's hand was clapped on Star's shoulder. Harvester caught him looking and shrugged again. "Birthday present", he said in Old Realm. Shadow sighed again.

"Okay," Star said, pulling out a strange hat from his pocket and setting it on his head. He clapped his hands, and Shadow had to admit that he was glad to see Star so happy about something. "Alright, okay, let'sh shee. What was the last fing you remember?"

Shadow frowned and cast his mind back. Vague images floated across his memory: incomprehensible music played that was far too loud for his liking, incomprehensible drinking games Desecration and Seal insisted were de rigueur among the youth. Wait. "Something about.... pinging?" he said. "Beer pinging?"

Star snapped his fingers. "That'sh it!" he exclaimed, leading them over to the main table. There were still two triangles of red cups, mostly upright. "Beer pong! Alright, let'sh try..." The Day Caste spent some time walking around the table, hmming and muttering to himself. "Hah!" he said. "Right here. Shadow, come shtand right here." Shadow raised an eyebrow but went to oblige. Star clapped. "Yeah, that'sh it," the young man said. "You were walking pasht and shomeone got beer all over you. Look, the shtain fitsh right around your feet." Shadow looked down, but the carpet was so full of overlapping stains that he couldn't separate one from another. Hesiesh almighty. Someone was going to have to deal with this later, and it was probably going to be Shadow. Where was Phoenix when you needed him?

Star was still monologuing. "Okay, sho beer got all over your fashe and body, and then you went to.... to wash it off! The baffroom!" He marched over to the bathroom, leading the rest of them in procession -- even Seal, who seemed begrudgingly captivated, and Des, who had woken up and was sauntering along. Star turned the knob of the bathroom's door, and the whole thing fell over on top of him.

"I shwear that washn't my fault," Shtar -- er, Star -- squeaked from underneath it. Seal and Shadow quickly levered it off Star, and leaned it against the wall; Shadow noted that the edges had tape on them, as if someone had tried to hastily repair the door. Star picked himself up and dusted himself off. "Asch I wash schaying," he said loftily, and marched into the bathroom. It was little more than a closet with running water, and the rest of the Abyssals watched from outside the door with interest as Star spun around to take everything in. "Here", he declared, tapping the countertop. "You took the eyepatsch off to wash it, and then left it to dry, but shomeone elshe took it to..." he squinted into the mirror, miming to himself, "to help dry it off. That'sh nishe. Thish way!" He shouldered past them again, eliciting a yelp from Seal and another from Harvester who had to dodge out of the way to avoid upsetting the cup he had picked up from somewhere.

Over the course of their progress around the room, they discovered: several issues of Hotter than Malfeas (which Harv loudly disavowed knowing anything about but quickly claimed "to protect the youngins"), a crudely drawn picture of what appeared to be Seal having sexual congress with a tyrant lizard (which Seal disavowed knowing about but quickly claimed "was sweet as fucking hell and should go on the fridge"), several more stains of unknown composition, a hot pink sphere about the size of an eyeball (which Des claimed without hesitation or explanation except "oh, I was looking for that"), and one of Shadow's favorite arrows, which he washed off and replaced. Finally they came to a stop in the middle of the room. "Trail goesh cold here," Star said, scratching the edge of his mask. "Well, I got one more trick I'fe been wanting to try. Check thish out: Unknown Wishdom Epiffany." He closed his eyes before opening them again, now glowing red. Shadow thought he could see their light falling on silhouettes, like there were invisible things in the room being illuminated only to Star's eyes. Star frowned, peering around the room, before looking above him. "Huh. Doesh anyone have a shtick or shomefing?" Wordlessly, Seal reached into empty air and plucked out a burning mote of light that lengthened into a golden spear nine feet long, which Star used to prod at one of the ceiling panels. Suddenly he dropped the spear and dove to the side, which Shadow took as a cue to do the same.

There was a snort, then a series of thuds, then the ceiling panel fell from the roof carrying a small man clad in spike-studded black armor. He was curled in the fetal position, clutching something to his chest. As the gathered deathknights watched, Phoenix juddered to consciousness in fits and starts, blinking groggily in the fluorescent lights. "Ugh," he said, wincing and squeezing his eyes shut. "I haven't felt this bad since I was dead."

Star tried to keep his laughter in. "What'sch that you got there?" he asked. Phoenix blinked and looked down, uncurling his hand to reveal....Shadow's eyepatch.

Shadow raised his eyebrow and Phoenix handed it over, though Shadow had to stoop down to reach. "Well, hell," the Solar muttered. "No idea how that got there."

"Des dared Tower to try and get you to eat it," Star informed him. All attention flickered to Des, who shrugged. "Sounds like something I'd do," she said, popping a bright pink bubble that had appeared in her mouth. Shadow blinked again. Magic or not, this was too much for him.

"Thank you, Star," he said. "Now everyone get out of here. It is far too early to deal with this, and I am going back to bed."

#sanctuary in black #hour in black #introducing the new friend.......... star

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jim-reid · 6 years

Text

Chain Reaction

David Sprague / Music Express 1989

Edition #142 Charles Grodin, an actor and a cynic, recently finished his memoirs, entitled It Would Be So Nice If You Weren't Here. Chuck and I have never been , you know, like this, so I'm not entirely sure what the heck the title's supposed to mean either. But I do know that it's a shame he picked such precise wording - wording that's tailor-made for the someday-to-be-published Jesus and Mary Chain story. It's all too easy to peg an off-kilter artist as "living in his own world" - which is, usually, codified music-biz slang for "his elevator doesn't go all the way to the top." But Jim and William Reid, the perfectly sane brothers who (for all intents and purposes) are The Jesus and Mary Chain, dream of doing just that. Trouble is, their East Kilbride bedroom fantasies - the one about being in a pop band, that is - came to fruition all too quickly. It's one thing, as the odd Twilight Zone/Night Gallery episode'll illustrate, to dream of ruling the world. To actually ascend the throne, however, is another thing altogether. "To be totally honest, I don't think we have all that much fun anymore," sighs Jim Reid, on a break from the filming of the Mary Chain's Blues From A Gun video. "I don't think anything can live up to the image of what you think it's going to be like. Or even to the first few months of playing. That was just the best time for us." of course, those first few months (now over five years gone) saw The Jesus and Mary Chain revered/reviled like no band since Malcolm McLaren's clerks got together in that combo called... what was it again? But where that other band gained notoriety with a spray of unfocused attitude, a few well-torn bits of haute-couture and a Ramones songbook, The Jesus and Mary Chain were doing something really threatening. They were messing with the music (man). "At the beginning, people were always talkin' about the 15-minute sets we did," says Jim, who is surprisingly soft-spoken. "But sometimes we didn't make it to seven minutes. It was all down to the type of sound we had. Plus we'd only written about five songs. We were just doing what came naturally." But the seismograph-sensitive British press thought they'd seen either the future - a future in which rock'n'roll would be obsolete (which Jim once claimed the Chain was intended to do) - or else, well... Mick Farren, who no longer writes frequently enough about rock music, insisted, "There's been considerable confusion on the part of the audience as to whether the band was tuning, playing or experiencing technical difficulties." By creating some of the most pristine, crystalline-pure Beach Boys/Velvets (circa third LP)/Phil Spector pop songs, then forcing their heads into vats of poisoned feedback, the Mary Chain created something - a pastiche, sure, but one that touched a nerve in anyone who cared anything about pop music as more than just a temporary diversion. Psychocandy, the 1985 debut LP, distilled this mixture perfectly. But after the raves had abated, most everyone was left wondering what The Jesus and Mary Chain would do for an encore. And this number doubtlessly included the Reids themselves. After all, the brothers (along with sole other constant Douglas Hart) talked ceaselessly of Psychocandy's place as the greatest record of all time - or, when feeling modest, of the past 20 years. How to top it? "Well, at the time we made it, Psychocandy was the best possible record anyone could've made," Jim confirms. "And we had to top that. At the same time, when we made Darklands, we knew it had to be different. We felt suffocated by the kind of press we were getting. It seemed that the guitar sound and the goings on onstage were getting more attention than the songs. So we deliberately set out to make a record that no one could talk about without talking about the songs first. But this time, we just set out to make a great album." This time, they have. Automatic, the new Jesus and Mary Chain album, captures a band two years further down the road, but the Reids haven't lost one iota of the emotional starkness that marked their previous releases. Alternating between the hopeless, spider-webbed love songs they've all but perfected (Halfway To Crazy, Head On) and the menacing, space-age Spector threats they've churned out frighteningly easily (the Sidewwalking-like Gimme Hell, Her Way Of Praying), Automatic sounds as if they've spent the whole 24 months toiling over it. Jim Reid wouldn't argue with that. "People expect a lot from the Mary Chain," he confirms. "That's why we take so long making a record. We're not lazy. But I think if you're making music and you find the process easy, you're doing something wrong. It's the kind of thing where you have to keep tryin' and tryin' until you get as close as you can to what you consider perfection." The past couple of years, Jim reckons, have been the toughest in the band's history. Having fired Alan McGee, the man many called the JAMC's Svengali, Jim and William spent a good bit of time trying to act as managers themselves. McGee's departure, perhaps coincidentally, saw a switch in the band's public face - a desire for more acceptance, maybe? "Not really," Jim muses. "We managed ourselves for a year-and-a-half, which was probably the most depressing time we've been through. You can't get away from it, really, 'cause every minute of every day, someone from the record company is phoning you up and asking you about things you'd rather not think about. "These days, though, we try to have as little to do with the business end as possible. We may sound different now, or play longer or more professionally. But it's merely because we want to. We have definite ideas as to what the Mary Chain should be doing right now, and we're acting on them." Does the record company have the same ideas? "Not usually." How do you differ? "We got quite a lot of resistance from the record company [when it came to] releasing Blues From A Gun as the single," Jim replies evenly. "More or less, they thought we were insane. I can see their point, but we think our reasoning is quite good. We've been away for a year-and-a-half with no records out [Barbed Wire Kisses, a collection of B-sides, was released early last year], and we felt that to come back with something really poppy, like Halfway Crazy, would be a bit too... obvious." Both Jim and William Reid have spoken in hushed tones about what they'd do if The Jesus and Mary Chain became superstars. In a sense, the master plan seems incongruous when one considers their oft-professed disdain for the music business in general. Were there unlimited capital in the JAMC coffers, the Reids would start a record label of their own. Something, Jim says, to enable him to release his own records only when he felt like it. "We do set extremely high standards for ourselves," he explains, continuing a theme that's apparently very important to him. "I don't understand why groups feel they have to put out a record every year, when doing that means you have albums that are mostly filler." It's odd, in a way, that a band so self-contained - so introverted (Jim grunts affirmatively at the adjective) - should have such devoted fans. Does the adulation please the Reids? "I don't like it when people get too fanatical about it," he whispers. "When someone can't see the flaws in someone else - that kind of attitude is totally wrong. You get somebody followin' you around who thinks you're God Almighty and you've just got to feel sorry for them." In a sense, this shows rather readily when The Jesus and Mary Chain are onstage. From their well-documented early gigs, which were basically, formless, 15-minute feedback fests, through their first North American gigs (which weren't much longer), Messrs. Reid, Reid and Hart kept their backs turned to the audience until their set inevitably collapsed into Jesus Suck, and equipment went flying. Even on recent tours, with the band fleshed out with a second guitarist, Bobby Gillespie's old galley-slave kettle-drum set-up replaced by a professional looking skinsman and sets constructed with consideration of not only the music, but of the ebb and flow needed to keep an hour-long show afloat, Jim (and especially William) seemed as though they'd much rather be somewhere else. "I think the way we are live confuses a lot of people," agrees Jim. "See, none of us are really show people. We consider ourselves musicians, not entertainers, and I guess we sometimes come across as cold because we don't have any conversations with the audience. But really, the only way I can describe it is to say that I don't have anything to say to them. Anything I did say would be totally false and we'll never do anything false. After all this time, Jim Reid still insists that The Jesus and Mary Chain are, in a sense, an Immaculate Conception. In other words, no forethought has apparently gone into their seemingly well-sculpted image of leather and shades, smoke and slhouette, rock myth and anti-rock myth-busting all in one neat package. And he genuinely seems to believe it when he insists their only contrivance was to "become the greatest band in the world." To be fair, he does give credit to the band's obvious antecedents - to cult legends the Fire Engines for braving 15-minute sets in 1980, and to Lee Hazelwood, whose eerie mid-'60s compositions (like Some Velvet Morning) the Mary Chain have electrified. But he's often been just as quick to lambaste folks as diverse as Lou Reed, Phil Spector and Brian Wilson, without whom, it might be argued, the Mary Chain might be just another British pop band. It could be suggested that some of the bombast is for effect - to simply piss people off. "It depends," Jim chuckles. "I suppose we do that. But a lot of people have pissed me off, so why shouldn't I do the same? Well, sometimes the Mary Chain seem to have picked the wrong targets... "I quite often do stupid things when I'm drunk," mutters the singer. "Probably all the stupid things I've done in my life have happened when I've been drinking too much. Sometimes I can't control my drinking habits, and though I'm not a drunk, I do tend to get a bit mouthy." So that's what was behind the incident in Toronto during the last tour (Jim, apparently well-oiled, responded to a group of hecklers shouting "Boring!" by attacking them; first with a mike stand, later with a bottle. He ended up spending the night in a jail and eventually received an unconditional discharge). He responds to the very mention of the city with a groan. "Yes, I remember. I feel totally responsible," he sighs, a note of genuine sincerity in his voice. "I've got to take all the blame for that. It was just one of those nights when I played too drunk and behaved really stupidly. That's one of the nights I regret the most in the band's history." While quite willing to talk openly about drink (giving him the advantage over, say, Shane MacGowan), Jim Reid is mum when talk turns to... harder substances. There've always been rumors of abundant drug use in the Reid camp (which the brothers have always denied). And JAMC songs, from day one, have had not-so-sly drug references you don't have to be a rock critic to notice. Automatic, f'instance, leads off with Here Comes Alice, a jaunty tune that wraps love addiction in Waiting For The Man lingo, while Coast To Coast whispers of "junk gun fever," "senses strung out" and the like. There's more, but Jim doesn't want to discuss it. Matter of fact, he doesn't like discussing lyrics at all, insisting that it's William who writes all of them anyway (a mild exaggeration, from what I've been led to believe). he then adds that their highly obsessive themes, like the oral sex overkill of early songs The Living End, Just Like Honey and Taste Of Cindy (and, for the extremely literal, who might be ready to accuse them of prurience, Head and Suck) and more recently, the insanity and/or suicide that dominated Darklands and Automatic, aren't particularly meaningful. "To be quite honest with you," he laughs, "and I know this doesn't sound terribly convincing, it's just coincidence. Pure coincidence. "I don't think there's anything terribly wrong with that, anyway. It would only become repetitive if we continued on album after album the same way. Sometimes you just want to write words that sound good. It's as simple as that - a selection of words that you think belong together. I've said it before, but that's what I love about Syd Barrett's lyrics. They don't mean [anything], but they don't have to. They sound good." Is writing a pop song easy, then? "The hardest thing in the world." Does it help you deal with your emotions? "That," he laughs softly, "is the second hardest thing in the world."

#interview

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ryanellisphoto · 5 years

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#151 — Saturday, February 23rd, 2019 — Ryan Ellis Photography - Detroit Street Photography Session #151 — Nikkor 24mm f/2.8 (ca. 1971) - Nikkor 55mm f/1.2 (ca. 1971) - Tokina SZ-X 60-300mm f/4-5.6 (ca. 19??) - Hart Plaza tattered flags - Street portraits

Arrived @ 6:15 AM

Departed @ 9:45 AM

476 photos (and also 3 videos) taken over an unfinished and fleeting-feeling 3½ hours with a lightweight 27 “keepers” among the numerous snaps from the day, rendering a translucently-thin 6% “success” rate at a stubbornly-rigorous 136 shots per hour (I aim to achieve at least a 10% “success” rate at a minimum pace of 100 shots per hour).

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PATH TAKEN:

Greektown - I planned to shoot with my vintage Tokina 28mm f/2.8 (ca. 19??) (which I used in my most recent Jam Session [support me on Patreon for access to that video before it is publicly-published {as well as many videos and other posts that are Patreon-supporter-exclusives}]), but it caused an issue with my camera body’s shutter mechanism, so I switched it out for my Nikkor 24mm f/2.8 (ca. 1971), which I never used the whole day anyways! Instead, I embraced the challenge of the Tokina SZ-X 60-300mm f/4-5.6 (ca. 19??) and the alternating ease and aggravation of the Nikkor 55mm f/1.2 (ca. 1971) (the f/1.2 maximum aperture, which I nearly always leave wide open, is a pain and pleasure to use). The Tokina 60-300mm lens forced me to adjust my mind to working with a zoom, which was difficult for me. I kept using it only at the 300mm telephoto limit, but I found time and again that panning out “wider” gave me stronger compositions.

Campus Martius Park

The Esplanade on Woodward Avenue - There seems to be the beginnings of the transfer, decorations-wise, on the esplanade from Winter wares to Spring things, as the Christmas light and evergreen-bedecked tunnel was removed (with pine needles all over the ground as its final vestige).

Spirit of Detroit Plaza - This plaza is a new public space in the city. Dan Gilbert evidently bought (or maybe “adopted”) this space, shutting down through-traffic on the final stretch of Woodward that would have spilled into Jefferson Avenue. Photographically (and this may be a sorry excuse), I am still having trouble figuring out how to show its good angles through my camera. Every time I walk through this plaza, I am underwhelmed by how cookie-cutter it looks. I want to take pictures that are alive and vibrant and impactful. I also want my shots to look unique and particular, and those two final aspirations are where I find the most difficulty, visually, with this space. Some say that there are no bad students—only bad teachers. Maybe my eye for beauty needs to expand enough to let me learn how to see that spot in a better way.

Hart Plaza - Alas, I found that the ripped and shredded American flags that encircle this plaza were further along in their ruinous regression into separate sections compared to last week. So bad was the damage at times, the stripes on one of the flags were split, and the rectangle with the fifty stars in the field of blue were even disunited from the red and white on one of the flags (pictured in today’s “top ten” shots). Crestfallen over this worsening state (made all the more worse when I noticed the Canadian flag across the Detroit River was immaculate still), I posted two stories to my Instagram page showing some examples of the abused national standard and tagging, first, the mayor of Detroit (mayor Mike Duggan [our 75th mayor]), and then, a local news station (Fox 2 Detroit). I did not want to assume a merely complaining tone, so I asked what I or others might be able to do to help properly retire and replace these American flags. To assume a realist’s headspace, I expect nothing to happen.

Campus Martius Park - I was wearing lots of layers, as it was “bone-chilling” cold outside, and I noticed a young woman sitting at the park on a bench in jeans and a quality winter coat (and no hat!). I asked her if she was freezing, and she said she was fine. With her permission, I took a few shots of her, trying to see how I could play with the reflection of her sunglasses. In our back and forth, as I snapped shots, I asked why she was sitting still instead of getting some warmth from increased bloodflow by maintaining some sort of motion, and she wittily replied that she had been waiting there all that time until I would come and photograph her! Hahaha. I had no clever response, and I was tickled by her diligent mind. I only thought of a clever comeback long after when I had finally reached the entrance to Greektown on foot. Folks like her happily make me have to stay sharp.

Greektown - My phone was nearly dead from my Instagram efforts at Hart Plaza, and the cold was creeping past my many layers of clothes, so I retreated to my car to enjoy my heated seats as my phone regained a more respectable battery percentage (25% as opposed to 5%). I would have left my phone charging in my vehicle, but I have no wristwatch at present, and I needed to leave precisely at 9:40 to give myself margin-enough to make it to Highland Park to visit with my photographic-better, Mr. E.P., as he was set to do some photography work there at 10:00 AM (at what used to be a stamping factory [presumably once used for Ford Motor Company back in the day, though I could not find that out]). I left Greektown at 9:20 AM, setting a timer on my phone for ten-minutes. I figured that I would walk and take pictures until the timer went off, at which point, I would turn around and walk and take pictures until I got back to Greektown right on time to leave for my next appointment in Highland Park.

The Broadway (and Shoes)

The Belt

The Hudson Site

The David Whitney Building - My ten minute alarm went off at this point in my journey. I had not taken any neat shots on this last leg of my 151st Detroit street photography session, so I stubbornly pushed forward in spite of my ten-minute time crunch.

The Rosa Parks Transit Center - I ran into a gentleman I talked with at great length this past summer (of 2018). The man and I first met at the Spirit of Detroit Plaza. He was sitting at a table all bedecked in dress clothes from a more civilized era in the history of Detroit. He was waiting for a blind date that was evidently extremely late by the time I left (or perhaps she never showed up after all). I photographed this man at the transit center (SMART bus super station). While he did allow my photographing him again, he continually insisted that I should be quick with my work, since he had a bus to catch. I tried to be quick, but I heavily underexposed him in the first few shots before moderately overexposing him in the final shots. I always say, “when all else fails, make the image monochromatic.” That is how I covered the greatly-underexposed (and shoddily-corrected in post-processing) picture.

Lafayette Street

Campus Martius Park

Monroe Street

Greektown - I made it back to my car by 9:45 AM, and I drove like Jehu to my final stop of the day and arrived at 10:01 AM. Not bad timing (all things considered)!

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WHAT WENT ON ON THIS DAY OUT IN DETROIT?

I arrived before dawn began and left before mid-morning ended. I hoped to make something good out of such a short time to shoot up and around the beauty of and on the streets of Detroit (a city I do not love but am hoping to thoroughly appreciate more and more as the weeks [and years] carry on). The most memorable moment of the day out shooting street photography was when I took time-lapses of the tattered American flags in Hart Plaza and tagged the seventy-fifth mayor of Detroit and also some of the mavens of the fourth estate (in an effort to encourage the proper care of our national standard [the American flag]).

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If you like what I do, consider supporting me on Patreon:

https://www.patreon.com/seedetroitlikeido

Check out my YouTube channel:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCmWGEXMZfJn5tutCOgK_dtg

I have a Twitter that has unique content from the rest of my social media accounts:

https://twitter.com/prayforryan

I have an Instagram that I am proud of. It has neat write-ups for my different works that also appear on my YT versions of the same videos. It also has photos and videos that appear nowhere else:

https://www.instagram.com/rellish3214/

#Greektown #Detroit #Looking Glass Sphere #Homeless Sign #Construction Site #Fort Gratiot #1701 #Founder of Detroit #Tattered Flag #Ripped Flags #Street Portraits #Retro Ford #Ford #FoMoCo #Mayor Mike Duggan #Mike Duggan #Dan Gilbert #Fox 2 Detroit #Mayor of Detroit

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thefanandthecritic · 7 years

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Top 10 Songs I Wish Were Talked About More - Part 2

And we’re back. Ready for round 2? If you missed part 1, it’s right below this on the blog, which is here. Otherwise, I hope that these picks take you on a bit of a journey, because they are much more serious than the previous ones. Which means that if you wanted light and fluffy stuff, then you will be disappointment itself once you’re through here.

With that said, the following songs need more exposure than they get, so I want to fix that. As much as an unknown on the internet can, anyway. If that makes you curious, then dive on in. You’re welcome, here.

5. Anathema - Lightning Song

This entry may as well be "Why don't more people talk about Anathema?" because this band is just great. I mean, I understand the lack of popularity in their early days, because they played doom metal, and that was about as fun as it sounded - no offence to doom metal fans. But you do know what I mean. Fun = popular, and doom metal is many things, but fun isn't one of them. These days, though, they make some damn good proggy, alternative rock and their last two albums - Weather Systems and Distant Satellites - are some of my favourite pieces of music in the last few years.

A pity that they swim outside of our SONAR, then, because Weather Systems boasts a really great song that could have made it to the radio. Well, I think so. "Lightning song" is not the most complex of Anathema's songs by far, but it is as listenable as the babble of a brook. It is driven by twinkling acoustic guitars and the angelic vocals of Lee Douglas, (who, for the record, could sing the constitution of the EU and still sound like the bride of Christ) which is a combination so harmonious and soothing that I think I just drooled a little. It then builds itself up gradually until the entire band enters the fray in an extended climax that has drummer - and brother to Lee - John Douglas pelting his crash cymbal in a such a way that it actually mimics the frantic flashing of lightning, adding an extra layer of synchronicity with its title and theme that few bands ever reach for. The lyrics also do their job, describing the brief moment of awe as one stands in a thunderstorm and absorbs its primal beauty. Rather rare and fresh subject matter for a song, really.

Maybe I'm over-selling this one. Maybe it isn't what I think it is. I can't help but feel, though, that this song is beautiful and something special. I hope you will agree.

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4. Collapse Under the Empire - A Riot of Emotion

Collapse Under the Empire is a German post rock band predominantly known for their complex composition and detailed layering of synths, so naturally, my favourite song of theirs is a straightforward rock track with the band's usual strengths downscaled.

It makes sense in my head, I swear.

This song, however, is a true beauty. "A Riot of Emotion" is exactly what it says on the tin. It's a song that stirs together joy, melancholy, exhilaration and serenity in a pot made of looped drums and soothing synths which, out of nowhere, explodes to life about halfway through, with the electric guitars roaring into the mix triumphantly and ending their run with a riff that - I kid you not - is what it would sound like if Blink 182 went pure post rock. Try it if you don’t believe me This song does not get enough attention. It needs more ears to appreciate it. End of story.

Why yes, I do like slow-build songs. How could you tell?

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3. God Is An Astronaut - Post Mortem

Now for the song that started this list. For those who don't know, God Is An Astronaut - yes, you are reading that name for real and no, you are not high - are a post rock band with an ear for generating intricacy from simplicity and crafting immaculate melodies, and it earns them a fiercely loyal fanbase.

GIAA's self-titled album upped the tempo from their usual schtick, however, and the first real moment that we really tasted this was the opening of "Post Mortem", a rolling, thunderous cacophony of toms and crash cymbals that kicks down into a tight and bright rhythm that has a groove that's so effortless that it's a challenge not to be swaying to its beat.

That's not the best part, however. The best part is that the song is almost written backwards in a way. As the song progresses, it slows itself down bit by bit, rather than building itself up like most songs do. This culminates in an eerie, but beautiful denoument in which the song fades out with nothing but a resonant, haunting bit of synth. Picture the musical equivalent of drifting off into space, and you'll have some idea of it. To get the most out of it, though, you'll want to listen to it with the perspective one of my good friends has of it: The song is about a life cycle, beginning with kicking, thrashing and screaming, and mellowing out over the course of its existence until, eventually, you go gentle into that good night, and rest forever. If that isn't beautiful, I don't know what is.

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2. Maybeshewill - Red Paper Lanterns

These top two entries are now officially my best foot forward in terms of my musical taste. Between this and number one, I could not possibly tell you which is my favourite song of all time, but I don’t have to. I just want you to hear these songs.

Red Paper Lanterns is a thing of immaculate beauty. Maybeshewill is one of the few rock bands which can use a piano correctly, and the way they do it in this song is nothing short of magnificent. This is pure concentrated melody and harmony, and it switches ably between huge, sweeping movements and the tiniest, most intimate of strains, delicate as cherry blossoms. If you would like to hear what being in love sounds like, then this probably gets close. Nothing else I know of captures the euphoria and warmth of being close to someone else. Nowhere else have I ever heard such gorgeously dainty sounds come out of a guitar. When the song gets huge, it gets MASSIVE. Not in a heavy way, but in the sense that the guitars start swirling and whirling around the piano, and the crash cymbal starts smashing itself in a visceral but expertly-controlled fashion. When this song climaxes, you stop. You listen.

Red Paper Lanterns is the best instrumental rock song you’ve never heard. It needs to reach all the ears ever, even if it's just so they can say that they personally aren't into it. If you listen to nothing else on this list, make it this one.

Or the next entry. Bugger me, I dunno.

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1. Jimmy Eat World - 23

1. Here I am, breaking the most cardinal of top 10 music list rules: One entry per artist. Do I feel bad? Nope. Not at all. That's it. That's all I wanted to say.

I said there were two entries from the same band on this list and I meant it. Jimmy Eat World deserve it, as far as I'm concerned. Futures is flat-out my favourite record ever, and the final song of the record is the song which competes constantly with Red Paper Lanterns for top of the pops in my library: "23".

It's an anthem about making mistakes and wasting opportunities that has come to define everything that makes this band so special to me. It is the band's un-toppable zenith. The ultimate closing track. Every second of its sweeping, melancholic 7 minutes is pretty much perfection to me. The lyrics about regret and coming to terms with your choices are sharp and bittersweet. Jim Adkins' ambling lead guitar is measured, but deceptively intricate. Tom Linton's rhythm guitar and backup vocals blend with the background strings and fill all the sonic spaces on the outer edges of the mix. Bassist Rick Burch does what he always does, picking the most appropriate way to complement what everyone else is doing, adding a resonance that you don't always pay attention to, but is noticeable by its absence every time. Then of course, there's Zach Lind, one of my top five favourite drummers, holding the rhythm of the song together in a way that's perfect for what the song needs. He's no slouch behind his kit, but he knows what many drummers don't - sometimes it's essential to step back and keep everyone else on pace.

When it all comes together, tied in a neat little bow by Adkins' affecting, whispy, exceptionally emotive vocals and the killer, slow-tempo guitar solo at the end, this song becomes a masterpiece. This is Jimmy Eat World's "Stairway to Heaven", their "Bohemian Rhapsody", their "Dark Side of the Moon". Sure, it may not even be in the same parking lot as those songs on a technical level, but it represents for this band what those songs represent for theirs: What they can do when they shrug off the creative restraints and unleash their hidden potential. Jimmy Eat World did that here, and it won't get any better than this for them.

Maybe this will be an underwhelming pick for you. Maybe I'm too attached, and this is only middle of the road. I'll concede that if I must, but I don't think I'm wrong in believing that this song is something special, and I believe it deserves top billing on this list because all anyone says when you bring up this band is how “great” “Bleed American” is, and approximately zero people ever acknowledge anything else in this band’s discography unless they are devoted fans. I want that to change, and that’s why I put this song on this list.

That’s why I put all of these songs here. Because even if the only person talking about them in the world is a pokey little music critic with a dozen followers, it’d still be one more than there was before.

I leave you with this song where it belongs: at the end. Have a great day.

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#thefanandthecritic #music #list #top 10 #rock #underappreciated #underrated #anathema #collapse under the empire #god is an astronaut #maybeshewill #jimmy eat world #part 2

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somar78 · 4 years

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The Top 19 Cars Of 2019 On Silodrome

Each year we compile a list of the most popular cars on Silodrome from the previous 12 months, we rank them in the order of their popularity, and as always, there are a few surprises in the list.

For the first time in the almost 10 year history of Silodrome the top two cars are both the same make and model (though different years), and for the first time there’s a replica in the list, albeit one with a hefty dose of Tom Cruise Hollywood magic.

We’ve compiled the list below in reverse order, and there’s an honourable mention at the bottom that almost made it into the list but missed out by just a few hundred clicks. Each vehicle has an excerpt from its original feature article on Silodrome, with a link out to read the full text if you’d like more information on it.

And now with no further ado, here’s the Top 19 Cars of 2019:

#19 – THE CUSTOM KAISER JEEP M715 PICKUP TRUCK

The custom Kaiser Jeep M715 pickup truck you see here is one of the better built modified versions we’ve seen in recent memory. It’s now powered by a General Motors 350 cu. in. (5.7 litre) V8 engine offering considerably more horsepower and torque than the original inline-6.

This V8 is mated to an Oldsmobile automatic transmission to make daily driving much easier, it also means it’s now highway drivable as well – something that can be a struggle in the original 6-cylinder 4-speed vehicle.

Up front it rides on a Dana 60 axle and there’s a Dana 70 axle in the rear, both ride on new heavy duty leaf springs and the original drum brakes are kept as is the 2 horsepower front-mounted winch. The look of the truck is transformed by the 42” Super Swamper tires designed for off-road use but still more than capable of being driven on the road.