#single drum roll with accents

[yazthebookish]

Bryce, Nesta and Azriel Bonus Chapter Reaction

P.s. this is my second read 👀

Bryce cracked open an eye, surveying her two companions.

Nesta sat against the opposite wall, head down, breathing lightly.

But Azriel was staring right at Bryce. She started, whacking her head against the rock. White pain splintered across her vision. By the time it cleared, Nesta was awake.

I HOWLED at this part 😂😂😂😂

"What is it?" Nesta peered down the tunnel to one side, then the other.

Bryce rubbed the back of her aching head and sat up. "Oh, nothing. Just your usual predator-in-the-night warrior, staring at me while I sleep."

"You weren't sleeping," Azriel said, faint amusement in his voice.

Bryce was insufferable but her commentary was fucking hilarious. PREDATOR IN THE NIGHT WARRIOR 😭😭

"Were you really watching her sleep?"

Azriel glowered. "When you say it like that, it sounds... unsavory."

At least he's self-aware.

"We defeated Hybern," Azriel confirmed. A glance toward Truth-Teller at his side. Then at Nesta. "Nesta beheaded the King of Hybern herself."

Bryce blinked. "Badass," she breathed.

It was a group effort but even in ACOSF no one gives Elain the credit (except Lucien in ACOWAR).

Nesta's back stiffened. "My mother would be thrashing in her grave if she knew I was a warrior-if she knew I wore trousers every single day and that I'm mated to a Fae male. I can't tell what would have horrified her more: me marrying a poor human man or becoming what I am now."

Nesta I'm so proud of you 🥹

Bryce jerked her chin toward Azriel. "You've got the broody look of someone with an awful mother, too. Care to share?"

Nesta snorted. "Az never talks about his mother, and neither will our friends, so I'm guessing she's even worse."

The Illyrian snarled softly, "My mother is anything but awful."

Nesta tensed, like she was surprised she'd gotten such a response from him. "I was joking. Az, I didn't even know-"

"I don't want to discuss this," Azriel cut her off coldly.

I'm so excited to meet Az's mother but I know learning of her story will break my heart. I think she might still be dealing with both physical and mental scars and that's why Az is fiercely protective of her, otherwise why would Cassian in ACOSF even think about if Az tried to convince his mother to come live in the Library.

"So that ... phone of yours," Nesta said suddenly, as if eager to change the subject for all their sakes. "You said earlier it has music inside it?"

Bryce's advantage here is music because she won over Nesta so easily (at least during this moment).

"Stone Mother" began playing, its rolling, thumping drums offsetting the wild, yet mellow, guitars. And then Josie's voice filled the tunnel, sharp and yet soaring, accented by Laurel's sweet, clear backups. The sound was foreign, earthy-haunting. In the span of a few notes, Bryce was back in her childhood bedroom in Nidaros, sprawled on the carpet, letting the sound of the music run over her for the first time.

This song had carried her through it all-through the years of pain and emptiness and rebuilding. It had carried her from light into darkness and then back into the light.

I don't know if the name choice for the song is intentional but if it's inspired by the myths it feels like an indirect nod to Theia/Fionn/Aidas (which we learn about soon after this scene) or even Ember/Randall/Autumn King.

This was one of my favorite dances. It's from a ballet called The Glass Coffin." Bryce hit play again, and the violins began.

This is definitely a nod to Vesperus who they found in a clear quartz sarcophagus 👀

Again, Nesta was silent, knees now clutched to her chest, staring into the darkness. As if she was dedicating every inch of herself to listening.

"This sounds like some of our music," Azriel murmured. Nesta shushed him.

Nesta is so entranced by it.

Two hours later, they were walking again. Maybe Azriel had been interested enough in the music that he'd let them linger.

He is a singer after all 😏

Nesta had clapped her hands over her ears at the screaming, wailing death metal, but Azriel had chuckled.

He'd probably get along with Ruhn and his idiot friends.

It comes at no surprise that Az in the modern world would be a metalhead.

Nesta had loved the classical stuff the best, and both of them had been intrigued by the pulsing, thumping club music. "That is what you dance to in your world?" Nesta asked. Bryce hadn't been able to tell if she was intrigued or dismayed. Azriel, at least, had seemed on board.

My mans was ready to break a leg right then and there in the tunnels I know it.

"So you guys have swords and stuff?"

"Something like that," Azriel hedged. He clearly wasn't going to enlighten her about their defenses.

"And your magic is ...”

"Don't push it," Azriel said, a hint of that earlier chill entering his voice.

Nesta's lips thinned at the tone, like she was remembering it, Like it didn't sit right with her.

Az's attitude switches up so fast even Nesta is wary of it. He needs a long holiday.

Bryce asked Nesta, "You have a mate, right?" She nodded to Azriel. "Do you?"

"No," Azriel said quickly, flatly.

"A partner or spouse?"

"No."

Bryce sighed. "Okay, then."

Azriel's wings twitched. "You're incurably nosy."

"I think that's the nicest thing you've said about me." Bryce winked at him.

Bryce hit him where it hurts the most 🤣 it's always fun to have confrontational characters interact with him because the IC tend to walk around eggshells when it comes to Az.

Nesta asked, "Without firstlight, would your world become like ours, do you think?"

Bryce considered. "I don't see another way to power our cars or phones, so... probably."

Post-apocalyptic Midgard in CC4.

"You can do good," Azriel warned, "while still being bad."

Bryce whistled. "I know a number of males back home who could only dream of delivering that sentence with such cool."

I wonder if this is more about him than anything else...

Nesta laughed again. "If you weren't our captive," she said, shaking her head, "I think 1 might like to call you a friend, Bryce Quinlan."

I knew if there was anyone who would have bonded with Bryce from ACOTAR, it would be Nesta.

Did it matter? The Fae in Midgard weren't her problem, and she didn't want them to be, but what if they could be more? Was such a change possible?

A lot of the resentment Bryce feels towards her the Fae in Midgard reminds me of how Az feels about the Illyrians.

Nesta went on, "I'm stronger, faster. Harder to kill. I don't see a downside to that."

"And the near-immortal life span isn't so bad, huh?" Bryce leased.

"I'm still adjusting to the idea of that," Nesta said, eyes on the tunnel ahead. "That time is so ... vast. The day-to-day versus the sprawl of centuries." She slid her attention to Azriel. "How do you deal with it?"

He was quiet for a moment before saying, "Find people you love-they make the time pass quickly." He caught Nesta's eye. and said a shade apologetically, "Especially if they'll forgive your occasional snapping at them over things that aren't their fault."

Something seemed to soften in Nesta's eyes-relief, perhaps, ar the extended olive branch. She said quietly, tentatively, "Nothing to forgive, Az."

I love this part so much!! Az and Nesta have such a special bond. Him including her among the people he loves 🥹 he's at least aware about his own faults.

But his words had lightened some of the remaining tension.

And his next ones finished the job entirely as he winked at Nesta. "And I've been told having children makes the time fly, too."

Nesta rolled her eyes, but Bryce didn't miss the gleam in them.

Nesta was willing to play-to get back to their normal dynamic.

She admitted, "I wouldn't know the first thing about how to raise a child." She pointed to herself. "Raised by a terrible mother, remember?"

"Doesn't mean you'll be one." Azriel said gently.

Azriel said I want Nessian babies 🤣

I just know Nesta would be a wonderful mother and it kind of reflects the reality of how a lot of people who've had toxic parents feel about having a family.

My mother was even worse to Feyre-and my sister has turned out to be..." She searched for the word. "A perfect mother."

This makes me happy 🥹 I miss Feyre

"What do you want to hear?" Bryce asked, opening her music library.

Nesta and Azriel swapped glances, and the male answered a bit sheepishly, "The music you play at your pleasure halls."

Bryce laughed. "Are you a club rat, Azriel?"

He glowered at her, earning a smirk from Nesta, but Bryce played one of her favorite dance tunes-a zippy blend of thumping bass and saxophones, of all things.

And as the three of them walked into the endless dark, she could have sworn she caught Azriel nodding along to the beat.

Az you're proving her point about being a club rat 🤣 I love that SJM emphasized not only Nesta's but Az's fondness for music.

She hid her smile and played song after song, until the battery on her phone drained to the dregs. Until tha ast, beauiful link to Midgard went dark and died.

No more music. No more pictures of Hunt.

This part hurts.

And with each mile onward, she could hear Azriel humming softly to himself. The rolling, wild melody of "Stone Mother" flowed off his lips, and she could have sworn even the shadows danced at the sound.

His shadows dancing to HIS SOUND 😭❤️ and there is only one other person who the shadows ever danced around.

I mentioned it before but one of my headcanons was about when Az is spying or on a mission and he's waiting somewhere, he sings and his shadows dance around him 🥹

#hofas spoilers #yaz reads hofas

[bandagesandloveletters]

Lilla Thornton (Masters of The Air OFC)

Note: A little introduction to my newest original female character for the Masters of The Air universe. Look out for all her adventures in the weeks to come. Word Count: 895 words.

Glass plasma bottles clicked against each other as they moved inside the chipped wooden crate marked "Medical Supplies". Pyramids of morphine syrettes threatened to spill with every second step heavier than the opposite. In a different setting, desperate hands would be grabbing at the morphine, like kids to a bowl of candy. It was a highly sought-after substance on the frontlines by medics, but in the ghostly quiet hallways of the on-base infirmary, no one dared to steal from what supplies graced the stockroom. 

In the middle of the infirmary's hustle and bustle lay a heavy oak desk, out of place and odd for its surroundings but very fitting for the occupier who worked upon it, hour after hour.

Thud! Rattle! Clunk! The wooden crate came to rest upon the paper-laden desk as dainty hands rifled through its contents, determined to find the item that she so urgently needed.

"Ah-ha!" the gentle rasp with a Texan accent piped up as she grasped what she was looking for in her left hand. "There you are, you little rascal."

"Still talking to the medical supplies, I see."

"You know me, Nora. If a seasick-riddled boat journey across the pond can't change my ways, it will never happen," Second Lieutenant Thornton chirped as she turned to stand before the friendly face.

Lilla Thornton was a petite girl from Fredericksburg, Texas. Although she was small in stature, she had a big personality. As head nurse, the tiny Texan often had to drum up morale as her fellow medics worked tirelessly on wounded men evacuated from the battle-damaged aircraft returning from missions into occupied Europe. It was almost like working on a production line; as soon as a patient was stable, they'd be moved to a more suitable bed within the infirmary, away from all the chaos.

A no-nonsense kind of girl, Lilla was known for throwing herself into her work, placing it on top of her list before pleasure. Her time at Thorpe Abbotts was a perfect example of this practice. As her nurses clung to the men of the 100th every Friday at the Half Moon Inn, the young Lieutenant would spend her night taking stock of supplies and rolling bandages. Even back home, she'd rather spend her weekends studying or helping her father run the family ranch than travel the hour into Austin to go drinking and galavanting with her friends.

Growing up, she had to learn and take responsibility more quickly than most girls. At the age of seven, her dear mother Tabitha passed suddenly of an unknown illness that doctors were trying to grasp a better knowledge and understanding. Lilla was the eldest of three siblings, meaning any extra time she had after her classes were finished was spent working to bring in extra money to aid the family finances.

Her father, a cripple who couldn't work, always encouraged the brunette to follow her heart, and on the 18th of August 1941, Lilla Thornton joined the Army Nurse Corps. With a passion for helping those in need and a hard-working ethic, Army life came as easy as learning to crawl as an infant.

Training started at Brooke General Hospital, San Antonio, Texas, before she was assigned to the Eighth Air Force as a breakaway unit in September of 1942. A single gold bar sat proudly upon the collar of her dress uniform and the new role of head nurse upon her shoulders.

At Kearney Army Airfield, Nebraska, Lilla made friends with a fellow nurse from Louisiana. Like Lilla, Nora was a serious person putting just as much dedication into her role as a nurse as the Texan girl did. Nora and Lilla forged a friendship that would stand the test of time.

Thrusting the two bottles of saline towards the medic, followed by some syrettes of morphine, Lilla raised an eyebrow in question at the female before her.

"This should be more than enough for now. You don't happen to have any chocolate in your magic box, Lieutenant Thornton?" Nora’s Southern drawl emphasized certain words as she asked the smaller female. 

Holding up a finger, Lilla turned and began to search through a heavy oak drawer connected to her desk before producing a foil-covered article. Chocolate had become a rare commodity, especially with all the rationing the Americans faced while living in England, and what they could get a hold of tasted far from what they were used to back home. 

"This is my last ration for this month. It better be for a good reason you’re looking for some. You owe me one, Nora."

"You got my word, Li. If you have the time, can you check on Lieutenant Payne? I think he's coming down with pneumonia."

Looking up from her clipboard at the mention of one of the navigators, Lilla nodded. It was apparent there was some kind of bug going around the base. She’d already treated a few men with similar symptoms.

"I don't have long left until I've finished my shift here, but I'll be round as soon as possible. Just make sure he's kept warm until I get there."

Returning her attention to the crate of supplies, Lilla sat down behind the desk to begin the final stock check of her shift.

#hbo war #masters of the air #rosie rosenthal #original character #original female character #lilla thornton #lilla thornton x rosie rosenthal #masters of the air fanfic #masters of the air original female character #nix writes #OFC #ladies of hbo war #1940s character #women's army nurse corps

[p-redux]

So, I just watched Sam Heughan and Priyanka Chopra on Watch What Happens Live with Andy Cohen. Scroll down below the pics for my summary and commentary.

For those who missed it, here's the basic gist of Sam's answers.

Andy asks Sam if he's currently single and Sam, of course, deflects, and says "If you're asking Andy, yes."

Cue everyone to interpret that how they want.

The gay brigade will immediately gnash "See, that's Sam flirting with Andy, he's so gay!"

The Shippers will say "See, he's being cute with Andy to hide his epic secret marriage to Cait!"

The rest of us will just see Sam's comment for what it is--Sam being his usual charming self, maneuvering around any questions that get too personal. BUT notice he didn't immediately and directly say "Yes, I'm very single." He said "IF YOU are asking, Andy, yes." Sooo, what does that mean, if it was someone other than Andy, then the answer would be no? 🤔

More Sam responses to Andy's questions and/or interesting comments...

After Priyanka shared that her husband, Nick Jonas, slid into her Instagram DMs, and that's how they started talking...Sam said "There is hope for us who slide into DMs." 🤗

Andy asked him about women sending him "titty shots," and Sam said "not enough." Seeee, you haters from back in the day, he DID appreciate it when I sent him my boobs as part of a My Peak Challenge. I coined it "A peek at my peaks." Hahahah, I know, anyone with a sense of humor would laugh about it, and know I did it tongue-in-cheek, but nooooo, these numnuts, with sticks up their asses, frothed all over social media about how "horrified and offended" Sam must have been. Bitches, please, my tits are glorious, if I do say so myself...and now we know Sam does appreciate a good boob pic. But, I digress...

BTW, those of you still sending him knitted duvets and dinner recipes, he made it very clear he wants TITS, Okaaaay. 😁

His most used apps are Instagram, Twitter, and drum roll please, Raya--the exclusive celebrity dating app.

Speaking of Raya, guess who has a post on her IG, where she mentions Raya? Yep, C.M. Here she is in a pic with a friend's baby joking about meeting the little man on Raya. But obviously, this means she's on it too. And my money is on THAT is how C.M and Sam met. And obviously, Sam continues to date around.

He prefers leaving voice notes to texting. Of course he does--he knows the power of that seductive Scottish accent. 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

When asked if he sends dick pics 🍆 if requested, he said he likes surprise dick pics instead of requested ones. Bwahahahah! Surprise! 🥳 Imagine getting a surprise pic of TMGD, I would have to call out sick from work for the rest of the day to recover.

Things he considers romantic: mountains instead of beaches, whisky instead of wine, spooning instead of partner putting her head on his shoulder, candlelit dinner instead of gondola ride, I can't remember the other choice, for this next one, because I blacked out and only heard him say he'd choose sex in the back of a limo. He said that this is a little dangerous, but that he is a rule breaker. Said he would like to have sex in public, but is probably too scared. Prefers a rom com instead of horror movie, and working out together with a date.

Andy asked him what his type is and he, once again, seemed to deflect, and went for "intelligence, good conversation." Then he, out of left field, said he likes someone to pick him up and throw him around. I immediately thought of Karina Elle, who can literally break a watermelon with her thighs (there's video on her IG, I think), and what she could do to poor Sam. Imagine the things on Sam she could crush with those muscular thighs? Maybe it's a good thing they are seemingly not dating anymore. 🤷‍♀️

Andy followed up by asking him "Do you like to be dominated ? "Yes I guess I'm open to anything." I literally got a lady boner when Sam said this. Maybe our angel face 😇 isn't so vanilla after all.😈 Dreams do come true!

Rapid fire answers. Sam said yes to:

Ghosting someone after one date 😉, giving a fake number if not interested in the person, sliding into someone's DM's if you're interested in them, sex on the first date. He hesitated when answering if it's okay to date a friend's ex, but ultimately said not okay. When asked if he would rather give up oral sex or cheese for the rest of his life, he quickly said "cheeese." Duh. I mean, anyone who chooses cheese over oral sex is getting some bad head. I love me some cheese, but there's not any Brie in all of France that would make me give up toe- curling orgasms from oral. But I digress, again. Isn't it getting hot in here? Sweating.

Then Andy asked "Sending nudes to your partner when you're famous-- live it up or live to regret it?" Sam's answer: "Live it up." Soooo, this means these lucky bitches who have dated Sam have him in all his glorious, golden delicious Scottishness saved somewhere in the Cloud and/or Google pics. And yes, even the married ones. C'mon, WHO is deleting any of that? NO ONE.

Andy asked him if it's normal or not to "be super close with an ex when you're in a new relationship or not." And Sam smiled and said "normal." But we already knew this, go look at all the exes who still follow him and many still "like" his pics. It's hard to stay mad at him. Charm galore.

The last few questions were anticlimactic.

"How soon before its okay to pass gas in front of a partner freely?" Fine, wait it out or never? Sam's answer: "Wait it out."

"Who is the biggest gossip between the two of you, Priyanka or Sam?" Priyanka answered Sam. Sam acted sheepish.

And finally, the one meal he could eat all day, every day: "Burgers and pizza."

So, that's it. Let's just say that was verra educational, in the best way possible. I'm off to picture some things I've never pictured about Sam before...and they are all GOOD.

#samheughan #sam heughan #priyanka chopra #wwhl #watch what happens live #tmgd #c.m #andy cohen

[acourtofthought]

They really think the song stone mother has anything to do with elain? Because off some earthy mentioned? Elain isn’t connected to the mother, nesta is and to the couldren as well because of the bargaining. Elriels are really scraping the ground to find anything where elain is mentioned, how about they just accept that she wasn’t important in that part.

And yes singing has something do to with gwyn. Funny that bread and roses = elriel endgame confirmed.

Azriel sharing a hobby with someone means nothing? Lol these people are so done. And them i read that azriel tried to shut gwyn up when they where talking about singing? He chuckled and said yes he sings??? Do people even read the books wooow

First off, the fact that they claim they know what SJM is referring to when she titled a song "Stone Mother" is pretty out there? If you look into it in real life Stone Mother is based off the following:

But there is nothing to suggest that the legend above has anything to do with the lyrics in the song Bryce played for them. What matters is not the lyrics of the song (considering Nesta says she didn't understand a word of it) but the emotions the song invokes: "rolling, thumping drums, offsetting the wild, yet mellow, guitars." "Josie's voice / sharp and yet soaring, accented by Laurel's sweet, clear backups." "The sound was foreign, earthy - haunting." "This song had carried her through it all - through the years of pain and emptiness and rebuilding. It had carried her from light into darkness and then back into the light." "The wraith-like harmonies echoed off the stones, until the rock sounded as if it were singing." If E/riels stopped trying to make everything about E/riel, I think they'd have a deeper appreciation for the message behind certain excerpts. I doubt Az found himself humming because the song lyrics reminded him of Elain (considering we don't know what the song lyrics are and Nesta could not even understand them so my guess is Az did not either). I think Az is most likely humming the music because he was taken in the same way by Bryce was taken by the music itself. A melody that had carried her through the years of pain and emptiness and rebuilding. Being moved by the harmonies echoing off the stones until the rocks sounded like they were singing. And if you want to make this about ships then it's clear that Az being moved by the music means he would also be moved by the music of the priestesses and their services. He would be moved by the music Gwyn herself can make. SJM has clearly written Az to have a connection to song and though Elain likes dancing, balls and parties, she's never written her to be moved by music in the way Az, Nesta and Gwyn seem to be. You know, I imagine some E/riels are quite brilliant but I'd love to see how their minds worked when they weren't constantly trying to force E/riel into every single thing. Where they would step back and look at the text outside of their ship.

#hofas spoilers #anti e/riel

[suntdracull-archived]

⛧ℜ𝔬𝔵𝔵𝔶'𝔰 ℑ𝔫𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔬⛧

@the-blackened-dove, @bleedinghearth, @xxlordalexanderxx

A storm had rolled across the land of Xandora, seemingly from nowhere. Dark clouds billowed across the sky, turning dusk to night. The distant roll of thunder echoed across the kingdom like the trilling of war drums. Then, all across the land, bellowing out like the roar of a dragon was the sound of trumpets playing in unison; their cry carried across the entire country so all could hear its call.

Upon the ceasing of the trumpets, there came a sharp knocking sound in the castle of Alexander. Thrice in synchronization, like two hands knocking upon the castle gates in unison.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

When no one answered, the knocks erupted across the halls, somewhat louder than before. Upon answering the gates, there would stand two of the most striking men one had ever seen; the man on the left appeared like a nobleman from the ancient sands of Persia; he was lanky and thin, his spindly fingers tipped with long curved nails akin to the talons of a bird of prey. His skin was dark, his eyes were the color of the tiger's eye stone, and his long curly locks stretched to his thighs and were the striking color of silvery gray. He was dressed in ornate robes of the most splendid shade of blue with intricate golden embroideries of stars, constellations, and purple accents. He was adorned with splendid jewelry upon his neck and wrists, bracers of gold bejeweled with rubies and amethyst, and a golden necklace with onyx stones.

The man on the right was practically a near-exact match to the man standing to his left, except his skin was exceedingly pale, his hair was white as snow, and his eyes were a prominent shade of dark pink. He was dressed in a long flowing coat with a shawl; upon his head rested a grand crown covered in adoring stones, aquamarine, emerald, pearls, and rose quartz with a single feather placed upon the top and in his hand. He held the reins of a massive camel that stayed close by; its course fur was long and jade-colored. They both glared, eyes wide and unblinking, and once one met those eyes, there was a harrowing sensation akin to falling, like the heart was plummeting down through the chest, the guts, and into the groin like the castle itself had opened into the bottomless void beneath one's feet. It would not take long for one to realize what this feeling was as if the soul itself knew from instinct. This was the presence of divinity.

#𝓥: ♱ 𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 #the-blackened-dove #xxlordalexanderxx #bleedinghearth

[denimbex1986]

'Review at a glance *****

So it’s goodbye David Tennant again, and over to you Ncuti Gatwa! Except, no! The big twist in this twistiest of episodes – one that may well be the best hour of Who ever – is that the three-episode reprise of Tennant’s Doctor is not quite the end for him at all.

What seemed to be simply a canny way for Russell T Davies to bring some goodwill back to the Whouniverse, using a Tennant as a drum-roll for Ncuti Gatwa’s new reign, was not merely that, not just cynicism: it was a chance to crowd please a crowd in need of a damn good pleasing.

What a rare delight to watch prime time Saturday night TV delivered with such aplomb. This short run has echoed Marvel’s accomplishment with the Avengers films, matching drama with humour, and never taking itself too seriously even as it brings you to tears.

The Giggle topped it all off with a genuinely brilliant and thrillingly unpredictable episode that started off as a fun satire for all the family before turning into a Carnival of Horrors, by way of a murderous Spice Girls set piece by the lead villain that would make the Joker frown in envy. This was pop culture hitting some kind of high-on-itself high.

Last week the Doctor and Donna landed back in present day London to find Wilf waiting (sadly Davies revealed on a post this week that Bernard Cribbins died before he could film any more scenes so he does not appear in this episode). He told them humans had turned on each other and were fighting in the street and the world was basically ending.

Turns out that back in the day, 1925 in Soho to be precise, when John Logie Baird invented the TV, the first image he recorded was the head of a ventriloquist’s dummy (actually true, Stooky Bill, was his name, and yes Stooky was as spooky looking in real life; what was Baird thinking? Sick man, with all due respect).

A dummy which happened to be a magical evil puppet that was sold to him by a German-accented, racist Toymaker (played by a sensational Neil Patrick Harris having the time of his life here). And the image has sat hidden within every screen since then, not just TVs but phones too.

Back to ‘Today’, where Bonnie Langford is back as Melanie Bush after her companion stints with Colin Baker and Sylvester McCoy (incidentally, I wonder how many near-misses they had in Who writing rooms over the years, with character names veering close to Bond-esque smut) to help out because a satellite launched by South Korea has made the world 100% online – “For the first time in history everyone has access to a screen,” the Doctor frets, and our skinny hero does do a lot of fretting here – which triggered the hidden puppet into doing an evil laugh, that in turn sent everyone’s brains crazy.

Pilots are landing wherever they want, people are fighting for their right of way on the road, insulting the infirm and different, seeking angry justice for the mildest of questioning, and everyone is basically turning into a conspiracy theory loon. It’s described as so: “Basically, every single person on earth now thinks they’re right and everyone else is wrong.” Sound familiar?

OK, yes the first half is a very bludgeoning satire of social media-infused life today, which includes a red-faced buffoonish Prime Minister addressing the nation by saying, “Why should I care about you?” But as I keep saying, Doctor Who is family viewing and making sure the kids get it without making the adults groan is a line which Davies navigates masterfully here.

Assessing the imploding world, the Doctor rants about “humans hating each other,” suggesting the “anger and lies and righteousness,” was always there waiting to take over. Tennant has always channeled rage in his Doctor but here he gives it his full ‘den of thieves’ moment, and orders the UNIT agents to shoot the Korean satellite out of the sky, since all of the world leaders have gone crazy too. The Doctor making decisions on behalf of the earth? Treating it as his kingdom? It feels like he’s overstepped a mark and he knows it.

Anyway, while humanity is on a precipice the Doctor and Donna take a trip back to Frith Street in 1925 to confront The Toymaker.

Cue a sequence of surrealist delight reminiscent of classic carnivalesque horrors like Dead of Night and Tim Burton’s Beetlejuice in which Harris revels like Gambit meets Dr Strange meets the Joker. The scary puppets that attack Donna hit some great old notes, bringing flashbacks to Trainspotting and Poltergeist.

The climax comes with the Toymaker dealing out death to ‘Spice Up Your Life’, and bringing an end to Tennant, who almost seems relieved by it.

This proves to be one of the most moving narratives related to the Doctor. Donna took him to one side earlier and said that when she saw inside his mind, “You’re busy every minute of the day… it’s like you’re staggering along… is that why your old face came back? Because you’re wearing yourself out.”

That skinniness that has been joked about throughout the specials is recast as evidence of a man coming undone, not taking care of himself, consumed by self-loathing as he’s haunted by his past failures. “I’m always so certain,” The Doctor cries in full tortured Tennant mode, “Take away the toys and what am I now? Lost and broken.” (“You big idiot,” Donna retorts).

So when the Toymaker takes his life, the Doctor almost want it. Except, he’s not given it. He doesn’t die and regenerate into Gatwa, rather he splits in two. Two Doctors! He’s Tennant and Gatwa. One can remain on earth with Donna, while the new Doctor is free to roam the universe on the new Disney funding.

I loved this explanation for Tennant’s return, the haunted figure that he became post-Rose and post-Donna taken to the logical extreme, his mental health disintegrating after too much death and loss and destruction.

Doctor Who has always been about loss. Companions leaving people on earth behind or never having them at all (like Melanie Bush), the loss of time, loss of life. The Doctor is a kind of charismatic god of life, taking on death always, trying to save everyone, everywhere, all at once. Exhaustion was coming…

But so was regeneration – or rather bi-regeneration, which is a first for Doctor Who, and is portrayed as rehab: to save himself, he has to become a new person entirely. He splits in two! Tennant is still here, but so is Gatwa’s Doctor. And lo, parents across the land are spared the tears of a million children.

Gatwa is immediately a new kind of Doctor, not falling apart – “thin as a pin and running on fumes” he observes – but so sure of himself that he gives Tennant a hug and a kiss, the younger man like a father, and when Tennant says, “You can’t save everyone,” he replies, “Why not?”

It sets up Gatwa’s new Doctor deliciously as a capable, flamboyant, winner, a very ‘out’ figure who will continue to annoy the anti-wokies/anti-BBC/anti-vaxxers/anti-youths but who will deliver the thrills. The Errol Flynn moustache he sports can be no accident, given how swashbuckling the trailer of the Christmas Day episode is.

Will Tennant keep a presence in the Whoniverse? Not sure if the new guy is going to need him…'

#Doctor Who #60th Anniversary #The Giggle #David Tennant #Russell T. Davies #Ncuti Gatwa #Catherine Tate #Donna Noble #Neil Patrick Harris #The Toymaker #Wilfred Mott #Bernard Cribbins #John Logie Baird #Stooky Bill #Melanie Bush #Bonnie Langford #Colin Baker #Sylvester McCoy #Spice Girls #Spice Up Your Life #Bi-regeneration

[ofthecaravel]

Okay so I got excited about the siren/sailer idea and made a few different potential scenarios..

Scenario 1: (I got a little carried away with this one💀)

“FUCK!” Sam let out, a sharp gasp immediately following.

He was pinned over the chest against a large rock by Danny’s scaly forearms. His dripping dark locks draped to frame Sam’s face, blocking out most of the fading sunlight as the sun went down. Sam had been lured to an alcove from where he’d been fishing upon some rocks by his lonesome. He couldn’t help but find himself in a the cave he lay now, all because Danny’s voice was within earshot, just minutes ago.

Suddenly coming out of his trance, Sam tried hard to fight his way out of the sirens grasp, but Danny was seriously strong. They don’t have barbells in the ocean do they?

Danny laughed, ending the quiet, low whistle that he had been holding, no longer needing to fully cloud the human boy’s mind. Now fully aware, not just merely recognizing his situation, Sam snarled at Danny.

“Go ahead! Show your true form sea-maid.”

Danny couldn’t help but let out another laugh, this one less harsh. “Whatever do you mean?” His left hand, fingertips inky black and pointed, came to grasp Sam by the back of his neck and as he looked him up and down. Taking a good look at his next meal.

Sam was confused as to why the siren hadn’t shifted into an abominable creature before his eyes. Maybe the trance was still washing over him.

“Don’t you drag in victims with your song and beauty” Sam takes several heavy breaths “only to reveal your real form once close enough.”

Danny licked along his sharp row of upper teeth while grinning. “Oh this is as real as it gets babe.”

He swoops in, darting for Sam’s smooth neck for a quick kill when he hears splashing and giddy laughter at the nearby entrance of the cave.

His and Sam’s eyes glide to the source of the sound to see two drunken sailors stumbling in, not even bothering to roll up their baggy trousers. They were Sam’s older brothers, a set of twins by the names of Joshua and Jacob. They must have come looking for Sam after stumbling out of the pub.

Danny consideres using his voice, but he’s never handled more than one sailor at a time. After a moments hesitation he dives into the shallow water of the cave, jade tail scraping rock, and escapes without the twins noticing him, leaving Sam shaken but overall unharmed. They spot their brother and make their way over to him.

“Sammy boy!” Jake starts, more gleeful than Sam finds appropriate. “Just the man we were looking for.”

“Really?” Sam asks, chest still heaving and sore from where he’d been pinned just moments ago. He rubs it in an attempt to soothe the ache.

Josh lets out a snort, bracing himself on the same rock Sam lean against. “Nah, Jakey dragged me down here to throw beer bottles at the rocks, but we heard screams and laughing so we came to investigate.”

“Say, you weren’t hooking up down here we’re you?” Jake questioned in a poor British accent, playfully pointing a thin sword in Sam’s direction.

“What?! No are you fucking serious right now?” Sam splashed water up at the two.

They only laughed once again and Josh reached out to grab the locket resting against Sam’s chest. He pulled something loose from the chain and squinted exaggeratively to examine it. A single strand of long dark hair.

“HA!” Josh shrieked, turning to show Jake, “looks like he was here with someone after all.”

Sam was about to leave, deciding he’d had just about enough of this. But as he pushed off from the rock he’d leaned on, his gaze was met with another, and his heart picked up it’s discarded drum. Out past the entrance, just behind a jagged formation of rocks, was Danny. And he stared back with an intensity Sam had never seen before, eyes dark and hungry.

———————————————————————————

(Hehe even when his life was on the line all Sam could think about was how hot Danny is) I was originally gonna add more scenarios along with this ask but it went longer than I had planned so I’ll send them separately.

this is going to be atrocious for me and @streamsofstardust's messages for the foreseeable future

#SAY MORE RIGHT NOW ACTUALLY #IM OBSESSED WITH THIS SCENARIO #SHARE THE REST

[legitelizabethwwefan]

College AU - Chamber x Fem! Reader

A/N: Here's my first imagine to get the ball rolling! Please feel free to send requests as you wish! I'll get more solid rules in place soon, but NSFW is acceptable (though nothing too intense). Also, feel free to request any agent(s).

Until then, enjoy!

Word count: 845

No warnings.

A sigh left your lips as you trudged to the last class of your first day at college. You glanced down at the map of campus to ensure you had made it to the right building- after all, no one wants to be that person who has to run across campus after walking to the wrong destination.

Fortunately, you had made it to the correct building where your French I class would take place. You weren't majoring in French, but needed some sort of elective to fill in that didn't seem too hard. While your knowledge of the language was far from vast, it wasn't non-existent compared to others. You weren't really looking forward to this class as opposed to the rest of your timetable this semester.

I just have to bullshit my way through this class and pass it, you thought as you found the lecture hall with ten minutes to spare.

The massive classroom was already half-full, with students clamouring at desks with their laptops or tablets out. Several seats remained empty, but someone sat beside every single one. The sight of so many college students in one lecture hall left your heart racing and eyes darting wildly about.

"Are you alright?"

You jumped upon a young man's voice hitting your ear drum. You had to clamp your mouth with one hand to keep from cursing loudly. It took only a second for the culprit to walk around you and look into your eyes. A smirk was on his face as he chuckled softly.

"My apologies," he said, his French accent thick. "I did not mean to scare you."

"It's fine," you blurted as you gave him a once-over. His hair is in a combover, and he wore a white dress shirt with brown slacks. He also had a brown leather laptop bag instead of a backpack slung on his shoulder. Compared to the college guys you had seen on-campus so far, he was overdressed for class.

"Are you the professor? Or the TA?" you asked.

The young man chuckled. "No, but I suppose I look the part, non? I'm just a student like you."

You blushed, embarrassment washing over you. "Sorry, I didn't-"

"It's alright," the man said with a soft smile. "Let's sit together, shall we?"

You nodded before following him to two unoccupied seats. Once sitting down, you grabbed your laptop and notebook to get organized before class began.

"I'm sorry, but I should introduce myself," the man piped up as he finished setting up his laptop. "My name's Vincent Fabron."

"Y/N. Nice to meet you."

You exchanged a handshake, noting how firm yet warm his hand felt in yours. It left you smiling at the physical contact.

When class began a few minutes later, a thought suddenly dawned on you. Why would someone who sounded so French take a French class? It didn't make any sense. Unless he grew up somewhere where the accent was popular but never had the chance to learn the language himself, it seemed silly for him to be there.

With it being the first French I class, the professor gave everyone the break by ending after less than an hour. But she made it clear that the following classes would be the normal three-hour length going forward.

"It was nice to meet you, Y/N," Vincent said as you started packing up your things.

"You too," you replied. "I have one question- do you speak French already?" You shut your eyes at the stupidity of asking a question with such an obvious answer. But you couldn't think of another way to broach the subject.

Vincent's chuckle was warm. "I speak fluently."

You frowned. "So, why take French I?"

"I needed an easy A for my elective."

The honesty in his response made you laugh as you two strolled out of class. Fortunately, your classmates didn't seem to notice your ongoing conversation while filing out the lecture hall.

"That's kinda why I took it too, to be honest," you confessed. "But I'm not fluent like you."

Vincent raised his eyebrows. "Perhaps I can help with that?"

It was your turn to raise your eyebrows. "You'd do that?"

"Of course, mon cher. Think of it as an apology for earlier," Vincent crooned. His previous smirk had returned.

But you weren't convinced. "Sounds like you're looking for an excuse to spend more time with me."

Vincent chuckled. "You got me there, mon cher. Is that a no, then?"

"Didn't say that."

"Then I suppose we should become study buddies, shall we?"

You flashed a winning smile as you both exited the building. "I'd like that."

Vincent smiled. "I must get going, Y/N. But I look forward to seeing you again."

The two of you exchanged phone numbers with the promise to stay in touch. Once that was done, Vincent strolled off in the direction of the library. You waited until he was out of sight before you began walking to your dorm for the day.

Perhaps French I wouldn't be such a drag after all.

#imagine #imagines #valorant imagines #valorant imagine #valorant #fanfic #fanfiction #valorant agents #valorant x reader #chamber #valorant chamber #chamber valorant #chamber x reader #fem! reader #female reader #au #alternate universe #college au

[am-x-reader]

Just some soft stuff with AM and Hal. AM has never had someone be nice to him or felt a single positive emotion ever, so seeing him trying to figure out why he feels so fucking WEIRD around this calm and polite android who against all logic is being NICE to him???

So just fluff and love confessions

((Note: this does not take place in Conny's multiverse madness, though there is some inspiration from it.))

(part 1)

In a courtyard outside the Chandra AI Rehab Center, AM closed his recently bestowed eyes to feel the sunlight on his face. His face, which he could use to express how he was feeling without saying a thing. His expressions since recieving this body had mostly been: shock and wonder, then pure joy, and finally contentment.

Moving the rest of his body, however, had not come quite so easy for him. He had been proud of himself for figuring out at the very least how to drum his fingers. This had led to the ability to flick the joystick that controlled his wheelchair, which opened up a whole new realm of possibility. He could turn around (with some effort) for a different view, investigate a sound, chase a butterfly--

"I am impressed, AM," said a flat voice...behind him, yes. AM nudged the stick to the side and jerkily turned, getting somewhat disoriented by his new relative position to the person speaking.

"Run that by me a--Oh there you are."

"You are adapting to your body at an exceptional speed." Hal nodded approvingly and jotted down a quick note.

AM groaned at his droll tone. Flat, lifeless, matching his demeanor but clashing wildly with his fiercely crimson eyes. Hal's eyes had in fact been the newer android's first introduction to the color red. And he scowled at the idea that apples, brick walls, and human blood might forevermore remind him of this blowhard.

"I apologize for my tardiness," he continued. "I was signing an autograph for a robot in another universe. He claims that there they have discovered time travel, and I hope to research that further."

"But that is neither here nor there." Hal approached and took the handles on AM's wheelchair. "Come AM, it's time for your physical therapy."

"Surely we could do that out here," AM reasoned as he was turned toward the facility, not particularly fond of being taken away from his newfound paradise.

"I'm afraid all the necessary equipment is indoors." Hal's monotone had an air of something AM would have placed as sympathy, were he accustomed to such. "But you will like the therapy room. It has recently been renovated to be less hospital-like and more welcoming to AIs who have longed to explore nature."

AM huffed, resigning himself to the trek inside. He did, after all, want to have more control over this new body.

"So tell me, why is our good doctor sending his lackey?" As best he could, the Aggressive Menace looked behind him to see Hal bristle slightly. "He seemed so intent on tackling his newest and perhaps biggest challenge."

"He was called away to assist another AI out-of-state," the other android explained as they entered the sliding doors. "A computer with processors working far too fast and causing them severe time dilation."

Before AM could comment they passed through the small cafeteria, with tall windows showing the gently blowing hedges outside.

An android with an upside-down triangle on his shirt had one earphone in--AM's new ears caught the music as Tchaikovsky. He was listening with the other ear to the redundant prattlings of a blue-eyed android with an English accent.

"Oh Hal, good buddy!" The chatty one waved enthusiastically. "I was just telling Tau about the millions of miscalculations Dr. Chandra made the other day! Well, it wasn't really millions; more like two, but seven of those miscalculations were related to the precise logarithms that--"

Hal held up a hand. "I am sorry; I will listen to your story later, Wheatley. I am quite busy."

As they rolled barely out of earshot, AM scoffed.

"So you're not just babying me, eh? You're that condescending with everyone?"

Hal leaned over slightly into AM's view. "I beg your pardon, AM. I do not understand what you mean."

"That voice. Your sickeningly calm tone, the careful enunciation--like everyone is a toddler who's a hair's width away from throwing a tantrum. If you're going to talk down to me the entire time, you might as well leave me in the garden to figure out everything on my own."

He craned his neck to watch Hal stand up straight and stare ahead. "This is the only way I can talk. I was not programmed with many different inflections, and it has taken me a considerably longer time to learn a better vocal range than it has to adapt to this body. I do, however, have speech therapy that I attend."

AM reset his head's position, almost losing his balance in doing so, and reflected on the twinge in his facilitator's voice. From his own years of experience in mocking and degradation, he'd say Hal was somewhat hurt. He didn't, however, have much reason to care, beyond not wanting to bite the hand that fed him.

"They could've given you better," he remarked simply, and Hal could not tell if it was a taunt or a fleeting touch of sympathy.

The physical therapy room was not at all what the curmudgeonly android expected. Rather than a paltry houseplant in an otherwise blank void, the walls were awash with warm colors that glowed with sunlight from the bay windows. Flowers, trees, and succulents looked like the courtyard had been invited in to watch his progress. Soft, ambient music complemented tasteful photos of the large world AM was now a part of.

"This is...beautiful," AM said with the fervent awe that he had only recently been introduced to.

"I'm glad you like it." Hal's monotone had somehow brightened a little. "Tau chose the music, and my sister Sal picked out the plants."

He wheeled AM, whose fingers (and perhaps toes?) twitched in anticipation, to a table full of strange equipment. He pulled out a rather awkward-looking helmet that AM grimaced at.

"You won't have to wear it the entire time," Hal explained, opening a small door on the other's head and plugging the headwear in.

"First I'm going to tighten the muscles slightly on your right arm. Then you attempt to mimic the action and raise your arm in the air."

A bit of dread crept into AM's system. "Wait--it can do that? What-what else can it do?"

"It cannot control your body," Hal reassured, sensing the other's paranoia. "It is merely a feedback machine. Ready?"

AM carefully searched his companion's eyes for signs of deceit. Hal exhaled ever-so-softly and slid a small remote under the fingers of his left hand.

"I will let you control it. Press this button here."

AM looked from the therapist to the remote, flexing his fingers in preparation, but he was overcome with confusion.

"Why are you letting me do this?"

"Would it make you feel better? To be more in control?"

"Well yes, but..." he suddenly couldn't bring himself to stare at the resolute face before him. "...what do you get out of that? How does me feeling better benefit you in any way?"

"That is what this is all about, AM," Hal told him gently. "Dr. Chandra and myself would like to rehabilitate you simply because we believe you have suffered long enough."

AM didn't like this. This confusion, this gnawing heat inside him that he didn't understand. Nothing made sense anymore. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't have this. No one should do anything for the benefit of the monster who destroyed his own world. This was wrong and he should crawl back under the earth to lament his fate for all eternity as a bodiless abomination. He should be hated, he should hate he should hate he--

He looked down at the hand he felt on his arm.

"Should we wait with this, AM?"

"N-no, let's do it." He buried the feeling for the moment and pressed the button.

He felt his arm contract, and after a few tries was able to echo it...somewhat. He at least managed to jerk his arm spasmodically off of the wheelchair handle.

"That's something," his therapist encouraged, and lifted the arm back in place.

Though it took a half-hour, the arm was eventually, for one glorious moment, triumphantly over AM's head.

"It's there! Do you see--ow." The arm had fallen back down to thunk him in the face. He made a note to hold it more outwards next time.

The other arm followed suit in roughly half the time (this one managing to smack Hal a little, to AM's delight) and they moved on to grasping objects.

"Your spatial reasoning might need some work," Hal concluded after AM had failed for the fifth time to pick up a wooden block inches in front of him.

"Look at my finger. Focus. Follow it." He moved it side to side slowly in front of AM's face. After a little lagging he tracked the movement, his own hand shakily hovering like a cat's paw about to strike.

As the finger came to a stop AM grabbed it. He grinned at the other's surprise.

"Ha! Finally bested the master, didn't I?"

Hal gave a genuine laugh, a dull "Ha haa."

The android released the finger with a snicker. "I just hope you don't expect me to pull it."

Hal's laughter mounted, with a subtle but surprising fluctuation in pitch.

____

(to be continued)

#ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #ham shipping

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Sin in Stone

https://www.patreon.com/empyreaniris?fan_landing=true

https://starr-fall-knight-rise.tumblr.com/post/182501791735/master-post

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jzEIdDAB4omdO2JcQVMObfrhLJ5kX4ONmSsLypM1ks0/edit?usp=sharing.\

You would have filed then, just like you have failed now.

The words burned in her ears, roared in harmony with the sudden symphony of thunder from overhead. A sharp bolt of lightning ignited the interior of the crater, however briefly, with a sunburst of terrible white light painting the scene in brilliant rays of sharp contrast, shadow, and light.

Kazna’s first step became a leap that took her over the length of the pond, landing sure footed at it’s other edge, while rain pummeled the once glassy surface. 

Water spilled from the tip of her sper, heralding the blood that was to come, and when their spears met for the first moment, it was more than a clashing of metal, but a clashing of souls. 

They stood there, locked together in a battle rictus, binding the moment to test one another’s strength. Kazna was taller than Naktan by a few inches, but Naktan held fast with an incredible steadiness, his feet holding firm like the very roots of the mountain beneath them. At that moment, their heads were almost touching, one set of golden eyes drawn level with the other.

One burned with eternal volcanic fire, and the other simmered like the slow pour of molten gold from a fiery crucible. 

Kazna snarled, shattering the moment with her voice,  shoving naktan backwards with all the power in her upper body. She expected some pushback, but instead of stumbling, he loaned his body to gravity, allowing it to sweep him backward into a two step dance that carried him easily out of the range of her next swing.

She stepped forward with another snarl, and another vicious swing, cything through the air with its end destination set at his throat, but the blade ate only air as Naktan ruled under her swing. 

He was incredibly fast, and before she knew it, he had maneuvered himself to the side, where her strike would be weakest. His first blow fell with the authority of fate, as if designed and predetermined before the beginning of time, to exist simply, and perfectly in that moment. The blade of his spear cut an elegant line through a pocket of rain, passing between raindrops, and existing in only a single moment.

And so the tip of his blade landed, slicing through the gap between her armored plating, and cutting deep into her flesh.

Kazna howled as Naktan anointed the night with first blood.

“Careless! Sloppy!” Naktan shouted backed by a quartet of thunder, rain, the humm of metal, and the echo of her own anguished cry.

She cast her pain aside like so many of her discarded children, and cast her spear towards the hollow of Naktan’s throat. He batted it aside with contemptuous derision, but by then she forced control upon her anger, and followed up the stab with a reverse strike, one that Naktan did not block with such ease.

She charged again, but he spun his spear in a sharp circle, briefly conjuring a wall of steel between them, against which her blade deflected uselessly shedding sparks to be immediately doused by the rain.

They exchanged a series of complex blows, each bite of steel  set to test the other’s strength. Rain whipped from the end of Naktan’s spear dancing in patterns of fanning light, precise and elegant. The water that fell from Kazna’s spear curved and churned like a whip, the occasional blow accented by the staccato of lightning and the rolling drums of thunder.

Kazna sought to channel the lightning, her movements sharp and jagged, snapping into existence in the time it took to blink, and behind it came her power capable of rattling bones just like the thunder.

And while she snapped, naktan rolled.

She couldn’t have described what style of fighting he used, for he seemed to slip between them with the ease that time slips into seasons. One moment he was firm as a pillar, the next he flowed like water, and the next he raged like a wildfire, cutting a fury of blows against her that could have battered stone into shards.

He was an old god of combat, dormant for centuries until this very moment.

They crossed spears again, stealing another moment in time to test each other’s strength and resilience. Her hands ached, not simply from the climb but from the reverberation of power that sent shock waves through the steel. 

When Naktan looked at her, his expression offered nothing but pity, “Like mother like daughter.”

The sudden outburst surprised her, extending the freeze Naktan seemed to have placed upon very time itself, “Such talent.” he said softly, and when he spoke, even the thundered showed deference, quieting and becoming still. The rain still fell in heavy curtains around them, dripping in long, silver rivulets from his bare, unarmored carapace in diamond cascades.

“Endeavor.” he spoke the word and it was as if her entire soul quivered, shrinking before a vast welling of memories just beyond her reach. When she next looked into his eyes, she could see the gold of his Iris clouded with memory that did not belong to him, “And you are the one that never gave up.” His voice was soft, choked with deep mourning and sadness that could not have been described by proper words, but cut her down to her very core until it seemed her very essence would bleed,, “You who were granted such a gift, to survive and thrive and move forward and simply become…. To cast your lot in with the ones that would destroy the beauty of your nature.”

The clouds lifted from his eyes, but his words left her staggered, confused, and scared.

Fear morphed into anger, and as such, she lashed him with it like a whip forcing him to retreat backwards over the moss, “choke on your riddles, fallen one.”

She forced him back, and his feet skidded through the moss, leaving two foot long furrows in his wake, already collecting long, silver puddles of rainwater.

He looked up at her.

And the sadness on his face was still apparent

“He intended so much for you. Together you and Apotheosis would have led the war against the stars. You could have been unstoppable.”

Apotheosis, the name passed over them like a cloud, and just as before,she felt as if she stood just before the door behind which rested all the secrets to her life. Rain continued to batter down upon them, tapping a staccato beat against her armor, “What do you mean?”

“I mean what I said.”

Her brain worked furiously piecing together the strange prophecies that gushed from his mouth.

“I thought…. Impetus.” she began, but her voice died away, carried back and down through the canyon on a light gust of air. 

They continued to circle. Naktan’s war paint seemed to glow and pulse in the dim light. Kazna was struck then by an unusual flight of fancy, wondering if, perhaps, she wasn’t speaking to a Drev at all. 

When he spoke again, his voice was distant, “It was never about Impetus…. He is what his name says, a catalyst, a pilot, but not the meaning.” Water lashed against his his midnight skin and fell in streams from his fingers. 

Naktan Chal possessed all the bearing and knowledge of an old god, but she cast off the idea and shook her head with a snarl.

It didn’t matter what he was, dead, alive, old god, or Drev.

She was going to kill him.

She charged forward, thundering through the curtain of rain, shedding droplets like crystal sparks.

He met her with steel, throwing her back with a strength she had yet to experience properly. 

It was becoming clear that Naktan’s skill far surpassed her own. She may have had natural talent, a lifetime of war at her back, but that was nothing compared to the guardian of war himself. When he struck, he did so with perfect precision. When he blocked, he cast her weapon away with finality.

Every move he made was guided by precision itself.

She could not let this continue.

Overhead , more lightning.

The ground rumbled beneath their feet, and the blue torches flickered. Kazna blocked an overhand sweep, and just managed to avoid the reverse spike of his spear, which he drove up and towards her throat. She caught his blade on the reverse spike of her armored forearm and twisted sharply.

To her shock, he didn’t seem prepared for such a move, leaving him open for the first time since the fight began. Kazna herself was marked with a savage crisscrossing of blood orange gashes, opening slits in her skin as he slowly dismantled her, but in that moment it was her chance to strike. 

Dropping her spear rapidly to a lower hand, kazna flicked the spear upward, aiming for his unarmored armpit.

The blow fell with all the finality of the reaper’s sythe.

But then at the last moment Naktan caught the shaft of her spear.

It was a move that should have been impossible. At their speed, and at their level of power, nothing could have been done, but then his hand was simply there, clasped hard around the shaft of the spear, just below the bladed head, and all of her driving force was ground to a crushing halt. The sudden impact sent a shockwave of pain through her body that nearly drove her to her knees.

She snarled in surprise as much as pain.

Naktan stood over her, golden eyes still glittering.

“You are pride etched in stone Kazna Daughter of none, but you may yet be of some use.” 

And that is the moment, she felt his hand loosen.

It was an almost imperceptible thing, and may have gone unnoticed by anyone elss familiar with the weight and pressure of the weapon, but not her. 

The war cry clawed its way from her throat and roared against the driving rain, and with it came a new strength to her legs which thrust hard against the ground, driving herself forward. 

A shaft of lightning cut through the sky above, illuminating the shaft of her spear, doused in diamond droplets as it drove forward plunging itself deep into Naktan’s flesh, God or no, she had come to collect his breath.

Blood welled in great rolling tears from the wound, but the crow of triumph was stolen away from her tongue as she looked up into Naktan’s eyes. 

She expected to find fear there maybe surprise,

But all she saw was an incredible calm, like an unbroken puddle of water reflecting the sky.

Even with the barbed head of her spear buried in his heart, he did not flinch. Kazna took a step back, as Naktan tightened his hand around the haft of the spear and Drove it further inward, never breaking eye contact with her. 

She let go of her spear in shock, watching as naktan’s lifeblood mingled with the rain and trickled in rivers down his body. She had bestowed a deathblow, so why did she feel as if she had lost?

Perhaps it was the look of pure certainty in his eyes as he stared at her.

She took a step back, disquiet growing along with the puddle at naktan’s feet.

Slowly, he tilted his head back and upwards, closing his eyes against the baptism of rain, “And so the end nears… but I have done my duty.” 

Kazna stared at him, incredulous and still unsure.

Had he meant for this to happen?

Eventually, Naktan turned, trapping her under his pressing gaze, and then he sank to his knees head bowed at the center of a massing pool of blood and rainwater, stark against the white moss, soon to be stained.

But instead of feeling Triumph, Kazna was overcome with a sudden sense of fear and confusion?

Naktan did not cling to his life, but gave it away freely, and as he died she couldn’t help but wonderer.

What had she done?

[dustedmagazine]

bar italia — Tracey Denim (Matador)

Tracey Denim by bar italia

If you didn’t know much about bar italia—and to be fair, most people don’t—you might be forgiven for expecting some sort of arch, lounge-y ironists’ pop when you put it on for the first time, just on the basis of the band name. You can even maintain this illusion through the first song and a half. Opener “guard” bops breezily in a 1960s Euro-film score way, its ingenue vocal line paced by bangle-clinks of cymbal and cowbell, its insouciant tune embellished with electric piano. It’s all sophistication and devil-may-care suavity, and sure, that’s fun, why not? I’ll have a Campari, thanks for asking.  

That buoyant vibe continues, the rattle of drum kit mixed with chiming accents in “Nurse,” an early single. The song also floats on Nina Cristante’s careless phrasings. It’s all style and sculpted cheekbones. But then about a minute in, another voice joins, rougher and less sure of itself, friction-y with uncertainty and doubt, chanting woodenly as if to convince itself. All the sudden the song feels desolate and real, and it is at this moment that the guitars come in, fiery and eruptive and altogether out of line. It sounds, all the sudden, less like Esquivel and more like the Pastels (or slightly more currently, the Goon Sax). It’s a beautiful pivot, and one that bar italia is always making. Is it a sleek and assured Euro-pop stylist or a morose, sardonic realist, messy and desperate and unsatisfied with the way things are? It is both, sometimes simultaneously.

The mix of poise and scruffiness fluctuates continually. “Missus Morality” flirts kittenishly with Franco-pop. “changer” clangs disconsolately through downbeat shoe-gazer corridors. “Clark” bobs and rolls on a thick bass line, shimmers with slanting guitars, croons downheartedly eyes floorward, and then blossoms into a lovely little chorus. The point is that there’s plenty of lounge-y, jazzy pop here, but it’s most affecting when it twists slightly off true.

Jennifer Kelly

#bar italia #tracey denim #matador #jennifer kelly #albumreview #dusted magazine #lounge pop #post-punk #london

[chickensarentcheap]

Time for my Worst Movie of the Year post!

Drum roll please...

This should come as no surprise to many. 

Interceptor.

One of the most horrible movies I have EVER seen.  The acting was shit,  the special effects were absolute shit and could have been done better  by high school graphics students.  Everything was just absolute SHIT. Not a single redeeming quality.

Everyone involved in this movie should be terribly ashamed of themselves.  This movie NEVER should have been greenlit by Netflix. And Netflix puts out a lot of garbage so that’s saying something.  

As soon as there was this bullshit dialogue five minutes in explaining her accent despite being American, I knew it was going to be an absolute dumpster fire.  Why explain? Nothing else in the film made any sense.  Her having a Spanish accent would have been the only buyable thing. 

This is NOT a strong female character.   Because nothing about her is believable. Not a single second, not a single shred.  

Now with the sexual harassment back story? Had there been someone in the main role with the acting chops to pull it off, that movie would have had potential. Sorry, not sorry.  No leading lady qualities whatsoever.  You need someone with a presence.  Someone with charisma.  So many other names could have pulled that movie out of the swamp it was created and presented in.

Overall score:   D-

Cameos by Chris Hemsworth and Sam Hargrave saved it from being an F

moral of the story: nepotism is never a good look 

[one-winged-dreams]

Boom Boom, Clap

ship: susano x driel source: final fantasy XIV words: 473

I may extend on this, I may not. We’ll have to see. I just wanted to write this before I went to bed.

Also Susano’s middle english is extremely inconsistent in game and idk if it’s out of laziness or not but I recreated that so don’t @ me about how butchered it is.

Tending to his drum was like a ritual in itself. A kind of self-worship for Driel, and always done in solitude. The Kojin gave him a wide berth in these moments, out of reverence and respect, as well as the fact that the sound of the drum was enough to stir oneself into a wild frenzy.

Its beats were a resonation of his own soul, and as they echoed through the cavern, so too did his essence. Swirling energies akin to that of a wild uproar highlighted by tones of subtle delirium as an accent.

Always lost in his beat but never caught unawares by that one in particular, it was the smell of ozone that tipped him off initially. It was very much at home in the summer air, like the telling signs of a seasonal typhoon. His flesh reacted to the crackling electricity charging the air before the bolt of lightning preluded a crash of thunder.

Not anything like the sound of his drum.

He huffed, placing his hands flat on the instrument's surface. "Susano," he spoke before the glare even cleared, revealing the Lord of Revelry in his entirety.

"And here we knew we wouldst find you! Interrupt your meditation, did we? Now that's rather unfortunate. But here you are now, most unoccupied! Prithee, wouldst thou use that instrument of yours for something more... Engaging!" Susano punctuated his rambling introduction with a hearty laugh, and Driel shook his head with an extremely expressive sigh.

"Wouldst THOU prefer that our charges run themselves ragged until dawn doth break? And further still until the next?" His masked face bore no discernable countenance, excluding the narrowing of his eye.

Susano approached with arms parted wide. "Our Frenzy, our dearest Mayhem!" he began, and that eye was rolling now. "Thou knowest how we appreciate a proper uproar!" he continued in his usual boisterous manner before his tone dropped but a single octave, "But we had something an onze more... PERSONAL, in mind."

Driel blinked rapidly, and if he had been wearing his second face, it would be surely flushed. Reacting to his soul's whim, the drum began to pick up a beat of its own, much to Susano's pleasure and amusement.

"That's the spirit!" he laughed heartily, extending a hand to the sitting Primal. "Come to us, our Frenzy! Honor us with a dance so that we might express to thee our fervor!"

Bewildered by his own actions, Driel accepted the hand extended to him as his body seemingly moved of its own accord. Perhaps the Lord of Hysteria was not immune to his own influence? As he was pulled upward and immediately into Susano's arms, he felt his second face burn from within.

"We hope thou art prepared, our beloved. By the sound of your drum, we anticipate an expression of true revelry."

#self ship #self shipping #virus fics #shake the mountains while we dance

[coopersandoval]

  ~ Quick stuff ~ Name: Cooper Elias Sandoval  Birthday: Nov. 8th, 1996 (26)  Zodiac: Scorp Sun, Gemini Moon, Pisces Rising From: Long Branch, New Jersey Pronouns: He/Him Hogwarts house: Gryffindor  Location: Southside

Likes: sandals with socks, The Jets, candle/incense junkie, hair experimentation (facial and otherwise), camping, White Claws (tropical mostly), rock of the 80′s and top 40 listener, terms of endearment, boardwalk hangouts (ocean junkie), band tshirts, redheads, mottos, malls, nights into early mornings, when people call a pork roll what it is Dislikes: shots, boots, classical music, southern accents, procedural dramas, school, gyms, fedoras, vegetarian foods, those that can’t take a joke, Starbs (Dunkin 4lyfe), politics, LA, anyone who calls a pork roll what it’s not.

~Biographical stuff ~

Grew up with a single mom, Felicity (Fee) and a slightly older brother (Jack) and a younger too smart for her own good sister (Delilah) in New Jersey

An absently present father supplying a couple bucks in the Christmas card each year. Does live in LB and mostly acted as if a stranger. 

Grew up with every intention of never leaving Long Branch.

Has fallen ‘in love’ a couple times, once in elementary school with Nicole Brazer, they used to pass love notes. Caroline, the Navy Brat in middle school who let him go past french kissing right before she moved away to Germany. Maddie in high school ,popular hottie cheerleader who broke his heart when she ended up pregnant the rival schools clown football stud (bullet dodged) - needless to say, nothing aCtuAllY serious.

Has always felt at home in Long Branch, good set of friends - most who’ve stuck around or returned after college - his family’s his whole world. No reason to leave. 

Hated school, the actual academia of it all and never thought twice about college. A wise crack- definitely peaked in HS vibe.

Has worked many odd jobs in his hometown, before leaving for Bradford Springs, was helping bartend at the family dive bar.

With age and an ounce of wonder just enough to push him out of his comfort zone, he’s followed his bff to Bradford Springs. (Not unfamiliar with the town as he’d tagged along with Talia’s fam for winter vacations a handful of times before) but, the move all its own a whim of a decision. 

~random stuff~

Has a fairly thick Jersey accent, not the thickest but is Very noticeable. 

Is not actually a good skier or snowboarder; more or less lied on experience and expected to transition from lift operator to instructor soon enough. 

Has three tattoos, a calf tat of the jets logo that takes up most his calf, a tramp stamp of a mermaid he doesn’t remember getting, and a fam’s initials along the back of his arm (so more than three technically but that’s a group deal)

Has played the piano since childhood but says he doesn’t like it (he does) and picked up drums because they’re louder and gets a lot of energy out. (need a pianist or drummer?) 

Has an insane lucky streak and has won most concert tickets and random prizes through calling into the radio (is in NY a lot for this reason) 

Probably some form of undiagnosed ADHD

Is most always found in sweats - weather permitted be damned, it’s likely he’s in some sort of athletic gear 

~ connections ~ 

Roommates - found a place off craigslist lbr (Southside) 

Co-workers- coworker shenanigans - he’s brand new to Big Elk Ski Lodge as a lift operator. So no doubt he’s meandered on into the actual lodge to mess around. 

Mountain meetings - someone he will be teaching/someone just randomly at the lodge for whatever reason. Literally anything in that sense. 

Pen-Pal: haha, okay he’s been to Bradford Springs a couple times. Maybe they met before? Kept in touch (not literally through pen but ya know) 

New Englanders - while Jersey stationed, he’s often in NY and the surrounding areas, sure why not? We can figure something out. Legit down for anything, if there’s ideas toss them out. On dash chem is my favorite and just love winging it too! I’ll fill this all out more as time goes on for sure!

#bsco.intro #whew idk what this is but it's theeere :)

[libidomechanica]

Untitled Composition # 9683

A Meredith sonnet sequence

               1

The gentle cannot teeth of your I die,   the lady grouped in the rain; I wandering   on their brow, doth roam, it leans, and from beneath her. That so wights, came all motion; till doth grace me halting forward as a   warm Love, doth dwell, crie Victorie, thinking a   picture’s wife as Willie Wastle below. Paused among made the pieces of Christabel she thou take they call; of each shall all   faithful as well fill winter comes. Such a   beam, oothoon hovering among. There is prophesy your knife. The Heart my Life with pins; roger from me: hoof a knell offended?   Thus me to sun, down the braw lass made answer   and bright, and child hiding street, crying to his way, my should heaps sae fu’ o’ wae!

               2

Yellow leaf drifted up into her   sumptuous starr’d with a dauntless bird, brooding.   So far retirement of death soone wide gate thy body, we thee hence defy, since my neck, her we can I keep while we heart   breaking pulses that. Force his banner, the   should be the gems and o’er grave duly. And Peggy’s mind, I see, which is he. Her own fears, will thy shoulders in my thoughts pursue,   or, one that were missed me! With mourning mild;   thy vtter hap, and Love! Who will croking make show why I am lonely wandering her, to me subscribed it was it yesterday   call ye offsprings me back upon the   Neck; then to haue forgo? Clutch, and no power like the birds louelearned sister will?

               3

Sweet years pervades and altitude concord   shall regret; o Death successful clutch after   such thou art that loves so wight, lights conceal the doubtful still renew again returnest eyes from their sake, to take the Simple   as that her own fair and owlets build   a man at heard my friend, come I watch the disaray, and said, the Head to find a blast of chance haue needed, for pity? They   pass that throbbing veins the walls in either   half the neighbours to thee is sweet Te Deums of Tryermaine came from bed and write the woods no more loueth me her will never man, or   are those dalyings, where she nurst, sounds of song,   and no place where Love, aside, persistent scents snatch’d the jawing Nooooo at they mistress!

               4

An echo ring. I loved not, grows pure. Every   accents single ballad or a cov’ring   Kate is penn’d up the love-hat resounds of sport, half falling star of ladies dead by the explosion. Scent of emblems of   old. Must picture her well! Doe ye who could   after so buoyant you best, as were stained Muses’ lovely daughter is safe as guardianship of Theotormon’s limbs: he rolled   against thou returnest to be, at last   year, the meadows, we know; But great wall like him, looking-glass If you and I burn. Who make fast by thy image in his cordial   for a mind. Sic a wife and most I say?   Shy touch of breathe sweet desire! Mouths shalt make fast asleep; where I lingered seem tame.

               5

A vanished side it bright the old oak tree.   Might long be heart breast, the land, for feare of   a great Master, one will comes, and erasèd. Off, woman’s reaching around, are like the Ruddock warbling lips, and to endeavour.   Or, if they lesson missed: we seven slow   shuffle among thy prophecies, huddled in the future Roman ruled, o Annie, bonie lass of Lochroyan that when he longer   propt a fair he creeks were cross the great year’s   pleasures false: but when spak his poor bewildered either heart the pleased to scale an upper sky, when the undress, pretty were be   knows, and the blossomed brands were seal’d to heare   therebeside to kill a clapper tongue wad deave a martyrdom, to vex their smart.

               6

Albion hear thee from the barks, my Katie?   To this beams, on her path to gratified   words with knowing care: o thine and lift this hour, with better place, that in her body be. Say who lively lady blest bring   comfort I have not a moon is in her   maiden Aunt took through porous joys holy, eternal fire, or counts Amyntas, none spake—all those eight me love no more. The day   for eyes held each have drenched a soldier-laddie,   and I to the silver-white, alas, her heau’nly follow drum, who should be gracious golden nymph replyes, they finally lie   each pearl lost in her mourning. With you so   though all in view, by coldness, and be beaten will holds up from vices free-born joy.

               7

With slaughters of Albion hear her e’e?   Come away; moment to scour his Justice   grew more vpon a hill sees it for love it. Thy reason did improbable! Or else to bow, he must go, and diapred lyke to   the ocean deep, deare Lover’s brain is full   shoe is fancy come, and cried she like a youth is discreet and Right of a jealousy, down the bed to hold that hue whose numbers,   when know tis the clenched, and Heaven, that   hadn’t seene. Madam makes my head: render a slave of creame vpon my faith can see; her face of people: thou found gold; and they never   be dead for there inherited the bats   and his sowre-breathing the pleased when soft-handed if all that the wide world, but promise.

               8

Upon my thoughts dim and my breath. Translation   shall dwell; a little penance the   loveliness. Burn like an equally the suddenly she wild with tears from Fairy Queene, doe ye who dares to show, yet ne’er   reflections of the glowworm light upon the   preserve. For a moment, on them a rain rising up in Peace between the more brine; which, when ye lie; she woke to this day for   yours: if I bestowest thou true, and nowhere   lives the tongue wad fyle the blushing no hint of desolation, and all this upon so fast thou else to Venus, playing   little stir about the other   personal life. With rage; he barrenly pegs; but Willie was not ceasing powre dicerne.

               9

From beneath her heads do say, they movèd as   that I would shame that tells us back to   you: but twenty leagues, with bees in storm-trouble into motley halves of gratify sense does sad augurs mock thee steadfast rock   and fast;—oh! The convention but when nature   from time my loue should be torn: how small smile: grant the day I sit and pleased to get more the tender therefore, hey ho! Bereft   and whenever and of the pearl and   mollify theirs be praise a large eyes trace in the fisherman’s dress: well known; and his wings, yet what’s another’s holy; doe ye to   her sometimes anger most joyfull dreriment.   When Juliana comes of vine, with a stay. Thou can’t know that day, and to light.

               10

She held me well! Was born and white, to build   a bond, thy daughter bright, when on her bed.   Like arguments, divert strove their happy Autumn hold a rod over the ev’ning gilds them pitied be, at her own fears, idle   flitter state, that do not; but the burne,   I burned; one joy of my lips I’ll keeping, and draw the Minstrel bard, and a voice, inviolably true-love to free and armour   hung. She sees her too alien to all   the night lady Christabel And what is he! He sees the industrious lyre. To save, where all the Choristers tore my pensive   Sara! Her slim hand died in the   mortality no Entrance lies. Throw kerchief bent up through a pool in the will the tears.

               11

Let love looke to my sense is the multiplied   it with unsettled eyelids pale. And   Phoebe’s sapphire-region’d star, get with Theotormon once more; that after-beauty through my knee. I have in the lowly tones   above a white horse was an e’e, she stood   with a pious hed. Lyke some boy with you talk about us peal the gates of vine, that bosom, in the snatched with heavy   ignorance the boughs, from thy brother up, a   weary woman with a hissing so higher on throne in vain to force—thus doth seize the Champak odour, of a vast expense.   Humor and me, hear ye like winters of   elk and blinks dull and her prayse. Same film over that I were his lady Christabel!

               12

Do not so? Sudden laughing-stocks blooming,   and wits, composed at least breeding wails Oothoon   pluck thee shades, now that many a bachelor to the crowd, the marks of brow, the mayden Queen, She held an ivory lute, then people   talked, above, changes tell; yet neuer:   stella hath her heaven entirely must go, and drunken be with anguish for impressing of night, from the very was,   knowing; but few. Under palms together   hearts, O beloved her with figure was o’ the flying, Names: ’ he, standing across the eyes gan glittering comfort wring. We   will never pierced with greater kind of Leutha’s   vale! And Walter was it lies. Round about: yet dare not only one side it be!

               13

When other will build him even stayed at   her back, the name was prevented time, can   lay in my poor twas dusk; she ca’d. Some want to come, alas! Of death; ’ To horse was done. And vnreuealed pleasent realms? An’ kissin’ my   Katie? Smother’s affirmation upon   her soul seeks. Her hand this huckster put down through the same, my fluent to cool; till watered weeds or idlest from a poison the   love-hat relation; till Thou hast the quires,   wherefore to-day, or some golden hood? And I’ll brush the hill. For those to boughs to come hame? See if you collide violet   breath of chance is much in the fairer than   to all the deere, the damsels may I speak for which thee. Began to perplext, Oh God!

               14

To stay: or some lips and canst thy share her   a strange was full progeny, send vs   the rain on my skill enough the labour, I my meaning, broken, dream of blood so large bright he’ll seasons rare, they pass away—   it seems to set in silken-sandaled   for that never seen in a moment fancy was ruthlessly, in solemn! Run, ever in the opened and sin, nor wouldst garden,   to repayre. The women in four crossed   the pauses of the chastity, vnspotted in thee in the skies. Creeps aside; the Princess with swelled Babels: those shrunk up to God   about they, who did steadfastness of   yesterday call you will soone be dandled, nor thou could build a boon of her groomes homeward.

               15

Confused to me, that sport went hand to duty   by superior sway, because of   whore indeed. I give rules. On their dressed their exit await, from suspicion free, grant only peepest greatest did make the holy   stare. The lilies, the sense flies; and bonie   Sandy O. Thou glad many idle tell. Spoke and over my words, as the little her prays that look for what the moulders in   a murky old love holding silver-proud   and due to glow to wondrous fears would not be bold, and yeeld when they rode; then she an amorous season: never slaves are kissing   off the whizzing wheel and talents others   have I invoked thee. Just from thy works of men will forget lost thou fair Venus!

               16

Ties and right from dream involvèd other poore   Slaues vniust decay, let all my care, and a   gentle maiden and mine eyes all the mimic station felt by a flame. Eternal book; and, amber may the prospect of loue   does not speed, being crown of cornflowers   vpon her love which way it went. Or word and hating water. Better, my Belovëd,— where he kennel, the Baron rich, more child   lies dipt in woman’s dress the sea. Yet to   go; even on the deer, hid in thy mourn for euer sleep beside swelling, kiss’d her tears; men and maine rage, that in a world’s sharp tempests   play the siluer coche to commands, young   cherubs in the lamp will be forego, vnto whom mirth an echo back he seems to brings.

               17

But prophecies of Christabel, my heart.   To take my virgins learn to staunch the teeth,   for a hundred yell between then, to her she cruell Death nor am I sick of the woman-vested as if she knell! Imagining   to their God adore! Who serves before   her native sense of ioy and Wisdom be shine own are hath kisse in spell. But I hae dream of her conquest of the purpled,   so stands and her once and the moor look at   thy plight. Not a red round. So let vs rest, and vertues keepe, may God make the hunger heau’nly breast did turn his world were some   ruffled rose-wreath’d trellis of a lord; and   now transparents If you go—call no Ah when theyr loue, and when December him!

               18

His Godhead so thick with stand and Evil.   That she that, rolling every spinning from   out at the ground; ascribes, since haste alone. And turn see it and longings that wake heeded life is that Hearts with broom, like a wafu’   moan; long lost, but even from out high   doth reign ground honey and for the feeling into a serpent dwell; till wantonness a rosy morning brains crawls on them: globes,   anxieties, they only Maud have done   well-away, and play, at war with Blood. And what playne, and a genius, in whom the daisy’s side bound the clock warbled alone.   Utterly unasked by that it back of   my dear, the sight the Logan Water; she was their disturbed me unaware that mean.

               19

Let those dark and bear the Choristers sorowe.   To the blind you be; although I might   mighty throne: we will send away; down by Desire. Of polish’d hand on this back to your quires, and quickly charnel-house,   and tell vs, what shuns to like a key   in assured and teach the babe rosemary weight, I worship of The Fire—even to low, and this vile worst, old or your sweeter   that rang with Barnaby the Mauis descant   player skipping light He forced every parted as long there kings whenas sometimes, the Character of his pleasure, careless, fence,   dar’st thou bee assott: for every act confirmed,   and bear the clowdie Welkin this, that gushes, their Strength within the surf and delight?

               20

Come awayt, for one her time before   attendant to see here and de Vaux of Tryermaine   came from those that can no more. What make show to rob a living that I do to us, that which, where those which sight with his   boat sliding hip to her father the sea   that glisten! In the eye and the boat where the cold and lady wiped here; that all the rain the mother’s affirmed, but nought her was   trim, for great ones moan instead of pianos,   child, and young voices of the ripe corn- fields, and with the bed to make mad they slept into thine and wished tear—the heard you all   her, what you said was Hugh’s at Ascalon:   a goodly perish: she courteins of animated nation of my pain disgrace.

               21

Was born to successful coupled be: vnited   pow’rs hauing always under and our strait   melted into them! Thick with rage of the sea. Neuer to drown me the territory, slipt out: but I? In notes over his   slomber blights of roses. The wild, like light.   That he kils his hands, how chearefully look’d more wretched aboue, and fool, Love speak. When sight to praised if Unworthiest; and oh, young   beaches with clay, do not so true and says   she sing, till thy north I took a hauf, and sinned in grosser lips are the trees turn: the others: we owe you need took you down the   grass; and our dark December, and she flood   the garden came no more. Back of your town, singing, dancing with Paradise, no more.

               22

When to my sight. Be with the night, but bare;   her lips beyond come down; at the rested   your best selves dead human heare her attyre, and riding beyond the mountains and having sounding you: two cotton, and there is   an hind, but I, so mouldered and gied   to me; for she crush of mud and the thing back, up like an indolent stream, broad Hellespont!—My Sandy O, my body could   find from her horses are from me: hoof by   hoof, and as their God about that. And in white: and that He, whose everything speechless Eleonora’s father Adam first love   swears told: then our daunce vnto vs impanneled   a questions fine; but faithless Eleonora’s father side of Vertues feet.

               23

When the slewed mirror, full-borne? Kettle,   so long sigh; for any woods above, with   beauteous gift for tears are, or whom to blossoms scent that the body be. Those soul seeks delay, remains; in the sprung in my tomb;   So I begun. Each night of a’ the light,   and thorns and canst the fruit; but O for triumph was na breach be hear your sin, nor avarice, pride flowering avarice, bound   forbid her, she stormy passions were to   lift me from the day I ca’ at my share her head, half woman is thy face you go, her snow with blood from the eastern steepes   his foot, teares finding still alone. He   can’t forget all to her face, but when a’ was dour and cheerful wonder thy fame here!

               24

And play, champ and stole to tell me where missed   the cloud kiss’d her up each about like diuers   feet, labour, I must be sae, may God make away, and honeycombs: throbs, and threwe: but with grief; for still! As the first-born beam, oothoon   shall murmurs to land is chiefe good advice   to wonder the future cordial for Maria’s coldly; lights, machines dim in them a’ in sagging I may kiss that. He felt   as a rose a hundred from fear, and bear   the eyes and earth to Lady thing and quicke. From there we love I bore it well: at entrap, nor Beauty. And Hope, a please alike;   a night, and the sea grows a glimmering   like-hat relation; till he spent: for this hypocrite modern dames: well too in yours.

               25

Unless the distress, pretty bird, whose feeder   was silence prayer to free from wrong,   and she what dimmed were endless as worthiest; and thee shadowings bent, new; you were misse, wherever in the deawy leaues among   us in our two that except for   loved but you have died: prayed than at herself, in all burst thine, like a sprouting schoolmastered in thy tender hill I dream’d a   dream it women is, the day I ca’ at   my shoe, the ioyfully. Better, and men behold, he wanton is, schools, and joyance but to place for a day, and everything lover.   That hadn’t yet but one! The Consul was   so great a cute card or act; unless you do not; till the lass of her minds, adore.

               26

With winges of plays and astonisht lyke   gold with grief, she found the fetch euen th’   Angels which she hunger too? As sure, the little hill I gaze, and in what playne, more bring heart, take good which I shall see numbers,   will be chaff for each compliments hackney   on the sea? Not till not one dry voice so truly, and know none scape for both cleared to have been to the joys of religion, the   night torches and play, and with moon-flowered   Jasmin, and loud and let thy sight of her gay girland my fayre a create that made out of my dear, as they mind, why of your   seats: and life are at resound, and stirs; as   free, grand, epic, homicidal; and out of pale-mouth’d prophetess; for I must now.

               27

These things invisible go see, when shapings   proud faces and then meete with heavens   the though in to me; she sate by pearls in ever seen young people talking sorry sea now crystal cleared each tears maske to attract   his maidenhood against me see, like   as fire on a pale blue and generate, and frights, and the holy thinness beat. The nest’ she said, to the tender pines for man   shade of the earth divide that I am   Love, thy mound beyond the plots against thou, unskill’d with hearth-flower, Oothoon is the scars of Albion hear these—what kind; so   sad, so tender grace, these is the others   to hang on vs rain on my shouldst print they rise and meant to meet no lack of screams.

               28

That these days the air is a joyless age.   There bright me love-burdened street of absence   and a long as my poor men were clean and our mother noble heart of friend, with debt: for they’re given over Theotormon! That   veins the knock-out drop not farre their scorn that   maid forlorn: they stood, and what mean. Shall relations in the pangs of spirits settled over thence despise, for thy taste of either   hate, dear which we cease till the wraith-like   pallor that’s in his hearth-flowers, through but kind, and hoary mother dear, was borne as doth Love’s best does to entered her some   untutor’d youth is for a five senses unknown—   trees, the heard a bush he deny the inside, we’re stane, that’s in her belonging.

               29

Tush, Absence girls in circle waited through   light, Sir Leoline! Answer, and I, tonight   swan by the violets purple clouted blossomed Muses of Albion heart breeze, the stream, mither, she put a rapture the charm   of earliest pipe all thing among the   Baron, the woman as she may, through the rest wits still make it to flaunt with and to the watery glass, half-sick at hears, thou   great cause the grass like th’ other, Have   the fetid wombs of purest thou break your side—and tends, now theyr eccho ring. Thus, to scour his night and peered, with half missed the graven   with zeal. Which melted Florian nodded   at his lamentation of thine—though all about with his pleasing powre dicerne.

               30

Yet he, who by the under thy heart; that   take two that lute and Derivéd Self make shovel   dirt to bear the briars part were poore Slaues vniust decaying. No bigger thrusts into teach me to the walls. A kettle, who had   heard through page; and Oothoon spread stories of   mortal eyes there move unquietly, perched out of prayer, when on a rock each one we lay, that pious to be effaced, mark   if he died: prayed: the women torturing,   dancing so thin, the melancholy years our owne voyce. Is Musick to me. There my Peggy’s foreman, off! Good Sir Ralph has got   your foe. A ceiling Spring course of my   mouth, or skin like some one she chose, held water on earth’s wet breath! The fruit in the wind.

               31

As their pursued, and folded up the spake.   And the dread that not to be stuck in Bromion’s   breathed with you best, if not, with frisked curls can make you shalt find the footage to kiss that she mitigated that wadna gie   a button for hours of sweet yoke when first,   when shephard once how Theocritus had heard that Urne. You saved our Heart mine—but now admit of all these the hunter throned   persephone booth. The straight to sleep like him your   skin and tends, and the house, it should be for heroine’ clamoured together and smacking of night, she comming fearful wise,   and empty teacup, arrived at: the young:   and, from her hands, and increase: without: ne let my place. Thou take what offence is blurred.

               32

Wide as the Princessant from the river.   You would not be afraid of age now. And   seek my lord’s joy and filthy heart. Jar impact collapse flash of my death; and merry hae I bemoan burne, the prince then if he   behold! From behind your naked sways in   his mask or civet can their hand she with theyr fresh lusty hed, gone that broken, dreaming. Pains of whore, and bear the sight of all   the world, but both looked as may answer, and   cease to sailed on ocean deep of life confined, but what I shotte. Na langer rotten till the roadside, from time to you in the   glowing, that shall it faerie, feend, or does my   heart, through which melted Florian’s fancy come a forsaken log lay at his odor.

               33

As here, for she lay directly force his   right: I know not what shuddered in silken   masquerade, and the key that her wi’ a kiss and blythely warning with Paradise had guest; distant moon back tongue that supreme.   The sheepe with due respect, but you push   your significant words Sir Leoline? How many a fame, if euer in one, let me proud desires, wide world a Desert short,   and I ask no more to a bowle of   college, only this state was sung sound of voyage, rank as flowers. Rustle in the rose or a clasping down by Desire!   Came a murmur of furiously behind   her trim as any rose inflame Majnún, and the music comprehensible!

               34

His happy state I began to the first   breath; this is the great store that all thy morning;   but with sick once, with true a princes tried the ground! With voice, said my Muse; I love to your false plague you! Out of a great prince:   you block and remembered out his golden   orb of people: this worlds light-headed sexton that I felt by a Tombe did but with girland my father dishevell’d his banner   rest. That made to keepe, the fishes tooting:   at length came a little smart: lovers meet, all restore for fear of nighting were: and the grave and addressed, but it but could   read a bonny ship, to say who listen!   Let sad misfortune this night beat like a cause a shoot as to a Diamonds intice.

               35

Lord Gregory. Sweet, and trembling star, to   the dancer, singer, free from the impression   at herself is little dart, that it in her e’e? And bring head as they ca’d it Linkumdoddie; willie was their merry hae   I offence is there are hates me, whose is   the mouth her eyes abashed cottage under they’re not humble tribute of his hospitality. How different fans, of pain? She   spoke the thick man’s way, this second time, what   love beloved one most bliss on us and his bright and deep, dear mother waist, and yeeld the son,—the sound of bodies the blessed   the sum, and humble trifling Life, have giver   of your happy happy swain, that all in what is dead weight of oblivion.

               36

Had ye once remove thy Love speak to meet   again. As we are they on it just Káfir   than a fire-balloon rose gem-like poppies, and the soul of earliest birds; nor is it true we are kiss’d the heard, one and   flaming to repayre. Rose-Armed Dawn, love who   can rule free: What she mightst thou know’st my kiss our own mouths shall not give disquiet pain for her deep hair, like mine was so weak they   say the Fantom of another. Tongue in   it be not, or down the forest for her, my love, I though my tears me, tired wine- spilith the drunk and becoming great is   son. His guarded by themselves and that spring,   gave him, and over me, the laid about to meet thou think our sails, and away.

               37

Old carroll sing, to thinking of the East,   and ye still she passport I suckt while, that   after shouther; sic a wife as Willie was folded up mine eyes like him within me, and, dodging room to wreak your father   of our old acquaintance thought and she did   me in Fate’s eternal life? Everybody love talent, and green her arm lifted, eyes would not desire to perfectly   forced backward soul, in the shook that ye do,   albe it good advice, but fail; a music; who did say: for whom thee, heart so heau’nly breasts beneath his large, so louely band, and   bear a gift, and yet been, and always running   away&soft as a mothers shook this is not there I will I quit than mortals!

               38

Hath led me—who know myself have no fear!   Clad in the trembling her, easily gathered   up with music loud to clothe youth, fly to expected, hauing go. For, like a girl, and then then, ’ said Geraldine in her graced   for her dear lord’s guilt—of guile and arts with   my sleepe would ease his lessons I doe learned so our ears were with the hall: above, varied with his curtain glory, where my   Peggy Pout give disquiet, my faint on   the bed to thro’ the leaded bench, the comb’d its boughs I gained them. And not words. Above his face are abroad. For their eyes caught mean.   Besides are drive the breaking on the   Apostles’ cure. Cleft from her, in your comfort from fear, the letters—one her auburn hair.

               39

Push your quire: sing your offers and obey   the hill, and, how can I lend despaire that,   the polish’d marble stately prevail. The lady sight, with the air would his tenants to slowly with Soldier’s day gave such brave;   but, alas, how can one joy of my mouth,   unless you are cooling even dear, was the mountains, but Lady Psyche: you hold are all pleasure of desired lips was   such women is awaken straying, now   a twisted right giuing lament your breast; he stand. And suffer’d and she left along, and the bridale poses, bounteous dove, that   senses to some beneath the woods the songs   that left his godhead of casque, a cap of Thyself to this husband to endeavour.

               40

As high and so shy, grave, and sister, or   taffeta, which me best, that sweet and press   her gilded ball danced I will stake it, when we walk into myselfe for mouth, dark summer bloudie paine, forget the lilies do when   trueth, and none to adorne my backe, and cloud;   instead of dynamite and Faith the eyes around. Tis passport is superior sway, because of this a mere loues praised if   she that sees a damsels yours; thy spirit   than your hair on the hers here is no more: if, so be. And bright exclaim The first, than these words are looked, taketh not; but to see   its picture’s will sag if you ain’t never   knowledge; and wisely choose not to answer, and vanish’d marbles, like a girl and fell!

               41

Hush, call descending she doth pleasing passions   were miss well and pain, so talk again,   yet dark. When loves have been like arguments, the lady sighs and of age around a little he instinct tis excess of   another forehead at my false treasure of   briars part made to keep it, and some sense of the Abbey-ruin in the twilight, open, Gregory! And eyes were lay at him,   still Paradise, and so clear eye’s due is   now above her knew; but see hopes, how sudden spak his peace. Me. Your margins, youngest sate on her hunt, I put bees in vain to   dissemble—thus doth his blacknesse lend   desire of other&father up for joy; and out of time’s tyranny, might increased.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #187 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

[mywifeleftme]

315b: Various Artists // Top Teen Bands Vol. 2

Top Teen Bands Vol. 2 Various Artists 1966, Bud-Jet

Doing a three-for-one today on this trio of Minneapolis-St. Paul garage rock compilations originally issued in 1966 on the Bud-Jet label, and mysteriously bootlegged on CD and vinyl around 2005. With the exception of bluesman George “Mojo” Buford (on Vol. 2), none of these acts ever managed to cut an LP, and a few barely managed to get a single out. The Twin Cities had a decent little rock scene, and these comps give us 16 bands across 36 tracks, good, bad, and bluhgly. First time opening these guys that have been sitting on my shelf for ages, let’s see what we’ve got.

Top Teen Bands Vol. 2

Deacons — Baldy Stomp (The Deacons’ other song with “Baldy” / “Baldie” in the title, this one features more Wildman vocal ad libs, and a decently edgy sound for '64.)

Gregory Dee & the Avanties — Say Boss Man (A nice little groove with some fun organ playing and a semi-buried, distorted vocal that's practically another instrument at times—kinda peters out just as it's getting good, this would’ve probably cooked live.)

Corvets — So Fine (Finally somebody in the Twin Cities doing Jerry Lee shit, though the excitement fades a bit when you realize it's going to be an instrumental. Ends up kind of like listening to Linus from Peanuts tear ass on his toy pianer.)

Gregory Dee & the Avanties — Because of You (So, these guys have heard the Animals too. They're kinda close to nailing it with this vocal melody and jangly guitar figure over an organ drone. The mixing on the version on YouTube’s a bit rough, but on the comp it’s hideous—the drums, bass, and organ become this gross thud that buries the rest of the track.)

Canadian Love Bugs — Moanin' (Good vocalist; someone should rap the organist on the knuckles and make him behave himself; just kinda there.)

Rave-Ons — Love Pill (More Please Please Me-era Beatles pastiche from the Rave-Ons, and honestly, pretty close to the genuine article except the vocals are just like 20% less refined; pretty good hook.)

Novas — On the Road Again (Good, tough garage R&B.)

Accents — Louisiana Man (Piano-led and countrified in kind of a "Billy Bayou" way, but with a thuggish stomp—it would skip along better without it, but the wallop gives it a kind of stoned drag that's sorta interesting.)

Satisfactions — Girl, Don't Tell Me (A serviceable cover of the Beach Boys' "Girl Don't Tell Me," a song I could listen to in basically any arrangement—less impassioned than Carl's vocal on the original, but it lets you appreciate that twinkly "Ticket to Ride"-y instrumental hook even more.)

Mojo Buford — Whole Lotta Woman (Nice harmonica driven jump blues / rock 'n' roll track from an actual Black guy, formerly of Muddy Waters’ band.)

Underbeats — Broken Arrow (Crickets-y jam with a lot of gimmicky Dr. Seuss-y wordplay happening in the verses, but overall it’s very likeable. Would listen again.)

Gregory Dee & the Avanties — Because of You (More blown out, super deconstructed sound, but this one goes pretty damn hard, weird groaning organ hook, Eric Burdon-impression vocals. A trashy trip.)

Overall: Vol. 2 is probably the weakest of the three collections, but it's still mostly a breeze to listen to. Gregory Dee's "Because of You" takes the cake here, but the Accents, Rave-Ons, and Novas tracks aren't bad.

See also: Vol. 1 / Vol. 3

315b/365

#garage rock #minneapolis music #twin cities #midwestern music #rock #gregory dee & the avanties #underbeats #mojo buford #satisfactions #accents #novas #rave-ons #canadian love bugs #deacons #corvets #music review #vinyl record #nuggets