#Additive Synthesizer

[dhla]

Who doesn't want to know what a selfie sounds like?

In my continued quest for all things groundbreaking in sound, I spent some time with Sumu from Madrona Labs and spoke to Madrona founder Randy Jones. Sumu is Madrona's take on digital synthesis - semi-modular like their other plugins Aalto, Kaivo, and Virta, and featuring some innovating ways of processing a sound of up to 64 partials (pure tone components).

Image up top is a photo of me turned into a partial map with companion software Vutu; below is a preset in Sumu using my image partials.

Full article on CDM

[wardensantoineandevka]

the real problem with the Veilguard score is not that it's bad (because it isn't) it's that they didn't put all of the stuff on the soundtrack

[deerest-me]

*puts on beret picks up cigarette holder and starts talking about differences between the TTYD remake soundtrack and the original*

[neuro-chaos]

NASA ARP

A stochastic experiment with two ARP 2600s.

The ARP synthesiser was invented by  Alan Robert Pearlman,  a NASA engineer, in 1969.

The ARP 2500 was used in the 5 notes sequence of the film Close Encounters of the Third Kind, played by Phil Dodds, of ARP.

https://on.soundcloud.com/DyHXt

[synthtv]

Every type of analog synthesis explained using the SAME 4 modules

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Harold Faltermeyer - Axel F 1985

"Axel F" is an electronic instrumental track by German musician Harold Faltermeyer. It served as the theme song for the 1984 film Beverly Hills Cop, its eponymous character (as portrayed by Eddie Murphy) and the film franchise it is based from, which became an international number-one hit in 1985. The track reached number one in Ireland as well as on the US Billboard Hot Dance Club Play chart. Additionally, it was a number two hit in Belgium, Canada, the Netherlands, Switzerland, the UK, and West Germany. In addition to the Beverly Hills Cop soundtrack, the song appears on Faltermeyer's 1988 album Harold F. as a bonus track.

Faltermeyer recorded the tune using five instruments: a Roland Jupiter-8 provided the distinctive saw lead, a Moog modular synthesizer 15 provided the bass, a Roland JX-3P provided chord stab brasses, a Yamaha DX7 was used for the marimba sound, and a LinnDrum was used for drum programming. All instruments were played by Faltermeyer. According to Faltermeyer, the initial reaction to his first presentation of the track to the film's producers and director did not result in an immediate approval; it was not until director Martin Brest voiced his approval that the producers showed enthusiasm. A music video was produced to promote the single, directed by Faltermeyer.

"Axel F" has been sampled in many songs, including "Champion" by South Korean singer Psy. In 2005, Crazy Frog's version became a summer hit. It topped the charts in the UK, with some of the best weekly sales of the year, and remained at the top of the UK Singles Chart for four weeks to become Britain's third-best-selling single of 2005, outselling and outperforming the original version. It also reached number 1 in Australia, the Republic of Ireland, Belgium, Denmark, New Zealand, Norway, Ukraine, Spain, and Sweden. In France, the song stayed at number 1 for thirteen weeks, only to be dethroned by Crazy Frog's second single, "Popcorn". This was only the second time that an artist had ever dethroned themself in that country. It peaked at number 3 on the US Digital Sales chart, and number 2 on the US Adult Contemporary Top 20. In 2024, as part of a tribute to celebrate the release of Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F, the Crazy Frog Youtube Channel made a special crossover music video with Netflix, featuring scenes from the movie, but re-edited to feature Crazy Frog in them, being chased by the Beverly Hills Police and Axel Foley.

"Axel F" received a total of 88,3% yes votes!

[extremely-nervess]

What does Fae eat in her new form? Has her diet changed? What are her favorite snacks?

Its a bit of a running gag that Fae eats a lot of cookies, which she did as a kind of comfort food when she was really sick. her diet and tastes have changed a lot though - She has a carnivorous digestive system, and can't really digest or absorb carbohydrates, plant fiber will make her sick if she eats any significant amount of it. In addition because of her mandibular jaw and lack of grinding teeth she can't chew - anything she eats needs to be swallowed more or less as it is. Particularly potent acids and enzymes in her crop help break down her food, but she struggles with anything substantially hard or dry. So, she mostly eats meat, or, more practically synthesized protiens, fats, and a host of supplements and stabilizers to help make up for the fact that she's a mess biologically. Small whole fish are her best naturally occuring option. As for snacks - She still likes the taste of sugar (though she will make herself sick having too much of it), and salt, so fatty sweet or salty things are her favourites - nuts, chocolate, dairy, just a whole stick of butter. She's never had it, but I think Fae would absolutely love those kind of crispy pork rinds you can get.

[agathasfamiliar]

you better make me better (pt.3)

agatha harkness x fem!reader

After killing your entire coven, Agatha Harkness is hungry for something else. And you're more than willing to give her what she wants.

other parts: 1 2 3 4

word count: 4900+

warnings: 18+ MDNI, begging, brief loss of consciousness (reader), death mention, electric shock (reader), fingering (reader receiving), magic during sex, mouth fucking (reader receiving), "pet" (for reader), allusions to prey/predator dynamic (agatha referred to as a wolf), brief religious imagery, brief scratching, smut

author's note: if i missed a warning please lmk. this is my first time ever writing smut so i hope you enjoy :) this may be the last part but i do have an idea for jealous!rio showing up in an additional part if anyone is interested

The adrenaline coursing through your body finally overrides your brain and forces you to move. You look down and watch one of your feet shift in front of the other, not behind. Your perspective expands as if you’re floating above your own body, a kite on a line watching yourself move ever closer to the woman who just killed your entire coven. You’re a woman possessed. 

She watches you approach, you can barely make out the amused expression she wears at the desperation in your gait and the ragged breathing that you’re now able to observe objectively from this odd other state of consciousness. You would be embarrassed at the display if you weren’t so high on whatever it was you had just witnessed. On the look of desire in her eyes after it was done.

You distantly know better, know that you should be afraid of this woman. That you should be horrified at having just watched the only family you’ve ever known, no matter how cruel they may have been, expire before you. 

But you’re not. Not even a little. Not even at all. 

It’s not until you reach the other woman that your consciousness returns to its proper place behind your eyes rather than somewhere looming above both of your heads. 

She continues to wear the same amused expression, but you’re able to see it more clearly now. Her arms are outstretched in a questioning gesture, asking “what now?”. 

You could still run, or at least try. It’s unlikely that you would get far based on just how much raw vitality you know the witch now possesses. 

Why does that almost excite you more? A thrill runs through you at the thought of making a break for the treeline just to see how long it is before you’re back in her arms. But you decide it’s best not to bank on that fantasy just yet. 

Not when the thing you want most is a hair's breadth away.

Even she seems surprised as you launch yourself into her arms. You force her to support your weight as she had when you first encountered one another, which now feels like days ago though it has realistically been less than an hour. You didn’t know the extent of your need to feel her holding you again until now, as you land back into her waiting embrace. 

As her arms encircle your waist she releases a satisfied sigh. You’re unsure what diverging choices she saw vying for dominance in your eyes, but you know in that moment that you made the right choice.

“You saved my life.” You stammer out, trying for the most synthesized explanation of what has just occurred. If it also acts as a justification in your mind for your longing for this deadly woman, that’s an added bonus.

Another sardonic chuckle escapes from her throat at that.

“Can’t say I hear that one often.” She admits, softening slightly at the terribly earnest look in your eyes.

“What’s your name?” You ask dumbly, partially interrupting the moment, but you need to know. Especially for what you want to do next.

She looks incredulous, mouth opening in faux offense at your lack of knowledge concerning the obviously famed witch before you.

“My name…” She begins, hands you briefly forgot held you now flexing around your waist and digging intently into your sides again, just as you’ve so badly wanted since they released you previously. 

“is Agatha, dear.” She punctuates the name with two thumb nails that seek to brand either hip with half-moon indentations, even through your clothing.

Electing to ignore the increasing pressure, you flash your eyes up at her again. You know you’re putting on a bit of a show now but you get the sense this woman, Agatha, might appreciate that sort of thing.

“Well, Agatha.” You say, savoring every syllable to show her exactly how delicious the word tastes in your mouth.

“Thank you.” You continue, mustering as much sweetness into the phrase as you can, your lips practically dripping with honey.

Her head tilts slightly to one side, obviously trying to suss out whatever it is you’re driving at. 

Whether it’s your own impatience or the desire to throw this woman off guard you’re not sure, but the next thing you know your own hand is snaking out from its space under Agatha’s steadfast grip to brush over her cheek.

You reach gently at first, relocating a stray strand of her brunette hair that had fallen into her line of vision at your enthusiastic arrival. Her blue eyes bore into you, but she appears curious, not stopping you. A good sign, you think.

You’re suddenly reminded of the image of the wolf that flashed through your mind moments ago upon seeing her from across the clearing. The way she looked standing triumphantly surrounded by her fallen marks.

Your pulse quickens incrementally at the reminder. The reminder of what you are in this equation. If she’s the wolf, that makes you…

The train of thought speeds from you as you continue to fall into pools of cerulean being quickly overtaken by expanding sinkholes. The dilation of her pupils seem to correspond with the closing window in which you’ll have any time to make a move of your own. Inky sand runs through the hourglass counting down the moments until you’re completely at the mercy of Agatha Harkness.

The small noise Agatha makes as your touch turns from a delicate brush to a heat seeking missile is victory enough. 

Your hands card quickly through dark tendrils before you close the gap between the two of you, mouth crashing into hers in a rush. 

You pull yourself further into her rather than pulling her to you. She is a distant planet swirling in purple storm and you, a meteor, finally surrendering to her gravity. 

The sweltering heat of her mouth on yours puts the fervor of her gaze to shame. What remained of your mind melts in seconds, consumed entirely instead by Agatha, Agatha, Agatha. If she is all that exists in this moment, as you suspect she is, then the world is briefly a perfect place. 

It’s no time at all before she takes complete control. You half-heartedly wave your momentary “upper hand’ goodbye that you readily acknowledge you will never have again when it comes to Agatha Harkness. If you ever truly had it at all.

Her hands squeeze your hips once only to climb your back with precision. Fingers tangle into your hair roughly, positioning your mouth just as she wants it to further her access to you. Your head lolls back easily at her prompting, jaw dropping to accept her tongue as it probes into your mouth covetously. 

Her groan at your immediate acquiescence only spurs you on further, opening impossibly more to allow her to taste you as thoroughly as she can reach. She drinks deeply of your offering, retracting eventually only in favor of much required breath. 

You instantly hollow your cheeks, sucking at her tongue greedily, letting out a weak whimper at the loss. One would think her saliva the nectar of the gods based on your craving reaction to it. You wouldn’t be surprised if it truly did grant you some life extending boon for all the newfound magic that you know is surging through the woman whose clutch you’re encased in.

Despite your disappointment at the kiss diminishing, you’re rewarded by the visage before you in the pale moonlight as your eyes flutter open once again. Eyes once clear as crystal are now endless voids of obsidian with how blown her pupils have become. You imagine yours look much the same, but to see evidence of the utter affect you’ve had on the incredibly powerful woman before you has you preening. 

She looks impressed at you, still calculating as if she can’t quite decide where to categorize you in her brain, and something tells you she doesn’t feel that way often.

“You are clever, aren’t you?” She exhales finally. You can’t help but smile slightly at the fact that she probably didn’t mean to sound that breathless. You have no room to talk, however, as your mind is empty of all possible ways to reply as soon as you open your mouth to speak. You just grip tighter to her, inclining your head slightly in a silent request for more.

“What?” Agatha asks rhetorically, voice clearer now as she tightens her grip in your hair to keep you from reconnecting your mouths.

“Cat got your tongue?” She grins, flashing her own teeth.

It’s all you can do not to erupt with emotion, searching desperately for words that refuse to come. 

You tilt your head forward instead, submitting to Agatha’s grip and resting your forehead to hers. The lusty sound of your breath roars into your own ears as you puff out the only word your mouth can find the shape of. 

“Please.”

And it’s like you’ve found the perfect key for a stubborn lock. The secret code. Just what she wanted to hear.

A dam breaks as Agatha turns you in her arms, dragging you the short distance to the nearest tree large enough to support you. Your skull and spine impact against the bark in a less than elegant fashion but you barely take notice, too focused on the intent of the woman now pressing you to it.

She looks divine, you can almost see the power coursing through her veins. Feel the magic she’s just consumed thrumming beneath her skin and running to the tips of her fingers. You clench involuntarily at the idea of where those fingers may end up soon enough. Where you desperately want them to end up.

Her arms bracket your body and she lifts one of her knees, pressing it between your thighs which are still blanketed in cotton skirts. It does little yet to relieve the mounting need growing in your core, serving mostly to restrict any possibility of you moving out of her grasp. Your knees bend slightly at the position, which both forces you to lean to rely more fully on the sturdy oak trunk behind you and allows Agatha to crowd you completely. Her face now hovers at least six inches above your own with the incline. 

All you see is her, blocking the view to the carnage you’ve already long stopped caring about. The torches still standing in the distance paired with the energy rolling off of her in waves forms a saintly image before you. You’re lowered to an altar, ready to receive whatever blessing the woman you’re in the presence of deems you worthy for, clad in her lavender-hued halo formed of the surrounding light. 

Once you're pinned, Agatha adjusts slightly, running her left hand through the long, tangled darkness on her head, removing any obstructions between the two of you. You follow the action with your eyes, still unable to think about much other than those fingers buried in your wet heat. Purple threads dance between them almost imperceptibly and force your teeth to clench to stifle a groan at the prospect of what they must feel like.

Agatha must notice your fixation because her gaze follows yours before meeting your eyes with a slightly raised brow.

“You want to feel it, don’t you?” She asks conspiratorially, voicing the secret you’ve tried, albeit poorly, to keep. As she speaks, her fingers wiggle out at you playfully, more sparks bursting forward harmlessly but you feel them reflected low in your belly nonetheless. 

You nod bashfully, screwing your eyes shut against the admission, knowing you have nowhere to hide in your compromised position.

“Unh-unh-uh.” Agatha admonishes, cheekily shaking her head. 

“You’re going to look at me and you’re going to use your words.” She demands, mimicking her movement from earlier by stabbing beneath your chin with the points of her nails, forcing your face to level with hers. At the contact you can feel a slight vibration almost bordering on pain, like many tiny lightning strikes, the sparks arcing out to connect with your skin.

Your eyes burst open, both due to the new physical intensity as well as not wanting to find out what happens should you not follow Agatha’s instructions.

“Yes.” You breath laborly, using every ounce of willpower at your disposal to hold her blistering eye contact. 

“Yes, what, pet?” She urges, not allowing you an inch. 

“Yes. I want to feel your magic… inside me.” You whimper out, realizing you aren’t exactly sure how to even voice what it is you’re asking for.

“Where? Here?” She questions playfully, fingers maneuvering from beneath your chin to climb up your face. The mouthwatering buzzing of her fingers leaves a potent trail of tingles in their wake.

Though it’s not exactly what you want, and her eyes tell you she knows that, you can’t help but reflexively let your mouth open gently as her fingers dance at your lips.

In one swift motion, two long digits slide along your tongue until they reach your throat. If this and her previous kiss are any metric to go by, you’re learning Agatha Harkness does not deal in half measures.

In the moisture of your mouth the thrumming is amplified. Your senses are overtaken by the electric current forcing its way further and further into you and you can’t help but close your eyes against the never-before-felt rapture. You feel it move down your throat and branch into your every cell, nerves alighting as you can’t tell if your lightheadedness is from the sudden blocking of your airway or this miniscule but steady stream of magic being pumped into you. 

You garble sounds of pleasure around her fingers, bobbing your head to try to get them even further down your throat despite the fact that you’re already unable to get a full breath. 

She marvels at you and you peak your eyes open to see the twitch of her eyebrow as she is clearly in deep concentration to maintain the perfect level of harshness for your exquisite torture. 

With one more measured burst of force you think you might unravel right there, untouched where you need to be most, but the seeking fingers instead regrettably withdraw. The only saving grace being the ragged breath you’re able to siphon into your lunges once they’re gone.

“I want-” You erupt, voice breaking hoarsely around the words as you try to get them out as quickly as possible.

Your head tilts back up to meet Agatha’s eyes challengingly and with undeniable licentious need. Heat rises to your face at the anticipation of your own next words, the blaze pricks moisture at your eyes but you compel yourself to maintain steadfast. 

“I want to feel your magic inside my cunt.” Biting out the last word does little to stop a desperate cry from following it.

When Agatha doesn’t immediately move, you curse yourself, racking your brain for how to amend your mistake. You’ve asked for too much, been too forward, not given her what she wants.

She leans impossibly closer into your space and you realize she’s looking expectantly to you. Smiling in a knowing sort of way, like a teacher urging on a student who’s on the brink of breakthrough.

You look at her pleadingly, you start drowning at the prospect of saying the wrong thing and ruining whatever it is that’s happening now. It’s a sick combination of all the times various witches have tried to teach you to harness your powers. You brace for the familiar disappointed sigh at your inability to understand. 

But then you remember the key. The way you’d found yourself here to begin with. She is waiting for it again.

“Please!” You almost scream and her smile breaks to a dirty laugh that tetters on the edge of a moan at the painful urgency in your voice.

“You could’ve just said so.” She quips unhelpfully as she jumps back into action, clearly pleased at how quick of a study you’re proving to be.

Another gasp quickly follows, this one prompted by the cold air that breaks against your bare legs as she hoists the end of your skirt and petticoat to bunch up beneath your bodice in a fluid movement. A seemingly practiced one, you notice, which burns a small seed of both jealousy and admiration through you in equal measure. 

The chill causes you to curl even further into Agatha in a way you think she probably intended. Your right leg, no longer restrained by fabric, wraps around her hip to pull her closer to you, both in desire and a seeking of warmth. Agatha’s left hand comes down from where it’s hovered around your mouth to support your leg that now draws her in. Your own saliva smearing along the flesh of your thigh coupled with nails that graze slowly up and down cause even more goosebumps to raise across the skin there.

You let out a shaky breath at the movements as her head drops to your neck. You can feel her smiling against you at your thinly veiled need before smoldering open mouth kisses imbue you with renewed hotness. 

You allow yourself to breathe even heavier with her ear practically against your mouth, making sure she hears just how affected you are. If it wasn’t already obvious.

She leans her torso back slightly, supporting you more with her hip now as her right hand, which was previously holding her weight against the tree above your head, moves down to hold the back of your neck possessively. Her mouth trails down to your collarbone then licks a blazing line over the curve of one breast before giving equal attention to the other.

You lose track of which way is up as the dizzying sensations wash over you. It’s not until you feel long searching fingers slide against the wetness at your inner thigh that you are able to zero in on her precise ministrations. 

“Even more eager than I expected.” Agatha admires, pulling her hand away from your heat to get a better view on the new slickness that now coats the index and middle finger of her left hand. The hand on the back of your neck moves encouragingly for you to look down at the evidence she displays and you moan knowing you’re the reason for the shine that now coats the long, power-filled fingers in front of you. 

You are dripping for the woman so much that she was able to collect your arousal several inches away from where you need her most.

“You’re so ready for me.” She says quickly with a husking delighted tone as her hand moves back down in a flash, her other working in tandem to yank your eyes up to meet hers. 

You’re unable to get another word in edgewise before the same two perfect fingers that were just in your mouth are sheathed within you to the last knuckle.

The moan that rips from you at the shock takes both of you by surprise and that flush that still hasn’t left your face spreads down and across your entire chest in an instant. Your toes curl involuntarily and you feel so full, part of you thinks it may be only these two fingers that now hold you upright. Without them, you might as well be a boneless pile on the forest floor.

Agatha almost mirrors your face, eyebrows knitting together in a sort of sympathetic mock surprise. Her eyes go wide as yours do, intent on soaking in every microexpression as you adjust to the feeling of her inside of you. 

You watch as her bottom lip catches between her teeth, a look of mischief and anticipation before she starts to move against you. Another broken moan, though more controlled this time, escapes your lips as her fingers pull out almost to the tips before driving back in again. You try to drop your head to her shoulder, already ragged from the first thrust, but her other hand tightens further into the hairs at the nape of your neck, keeping you looking at her.

“I want to see you when you come undone for me.” She breathes, nodding encouragingly.

You nod back, only feeling able to parrot her sentiment, no coherent thoughts of your own forming. That is until she gets that unyielding look in her eyes that you’ve grown to now recognize in your short time together.

“Yes, please.” You squeeze out, clenching around her fingers at your own words coupled by her thrilled reaction to them.

With your eyes now fully locked on hers, she starts fucking you in earnest. She’s rocking into you in powerful but measured thrusts. All the while, blue eyes search yours hungrily. 

The image of Agatha absorbing the magic of the others flashes back through your mind again. The thought of her still wanting more drives a spike of hunger through your own stomach. Whatever it is she wants, you want to give it to her. 

You want to sate her. 

Your breath comes in huffs. Hands that rested against her waist to steady yourself now hold on for dear life, your fingers clambering perilously into the fabric of her dress.

It isn’t until you’ve adjusted to the rhythm that she’s set, moans falling from your mouth incrementally, that you see that focused look flash across her eyes again. The one you saw as she poured voltaic rhapsodies down your throat.

Rather than bracing for whatever it is to come next, you relax into her touch as you feel her start to pull out of you before curling her fingers hard into your walls. 

Her hand shifts below you to allow her thumb to rest against your aching clit, which has gone neglected until now. The steadily climbing pleasure starts to coil within you more fully now and you think it can’t get better than this.

And then, the shocks return. 

The outpouring of sweet, stinging purple surges into you even more intensely than before. If you were able to move from the vice grip of Agatha’s other hand keeping you fiercely focused on her, you wager you would be able to see the purple glow of power shining from beneath the bunched bundle of your skirts as the potency of what she’s streaming into you reaches a fever pitch.

Your moans swiftly turn to mewling as she hits that spot inside you over and over again in quick succession, the lances of her magic climbing further and further up your body with each one. You pull and scratch agonizingly at her back and waist and shoulders and anywhere you can reach.

Her pace is unrelenting, curling harder and harder with every thrust to match the power of the mounting raw energy. Her face breaks into further delight the more yours contorts with ecstasy. She even releases a low chuckle at one point, followed by a groan that she punctuated with a few quickened pumps into you for good measure.

You know you can’t hold out much longer, the pleasure is racing forward like a tidal wave and it’s threatening to break over you at any second. One part of you believes that the spellcraft she is pushing into you is making you stronger with each burst behind your eyes and the other anticipated its apex may atomize you on the spot. At this point either option feels worth the pure bliss you’re experiencing.

“I- I’m gonna-” You force out, brokenly. But you know what it is you have to say. 

Agatha nods at your admission, egging you on, pure elation on her face. She knows that you know what she wants and it excites her all the more.

A torrent of begging tears from your throat in an instant, an endless string of “please” that you can’t stop even if you try.

“Please, please, please Agatha, please!” You chant even as she quickens her pace, satisfied by your invocations. You think you hear a crackling of electricity within and around you at Agatha’s final push of magic through your system and it breaks you.

Your orgasm crashes into and out of you in equal measure, the ambient purple light flares in your eyes and consumes the world around you in an amethyst fog. You’re unsure if it truly is the world around you exploding with color or if you yourself are glowing brightly from within, the purplish tone of Agatha’s magic that still courses through your veins looking for somewhere to ground itself. 

The bliss that envelopes you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt, the euphoric sparks arc over your scalp, flaring where Agatha still holds you at your neck and it continues all the way down to the tips of your toes. You distantly hear yourself exhale, feeling contentedly very far away from your own body for a moment.

Eventually, the blanket of purple starts to diminish and as you regain your senses you start to hear someone faintly whimpering. What might be mumbled words that you can’t quite make out mix with the whining sounds as you try to dial into what it is. You blink a few times, eyes focusing once again on the woman in front of you.

You realize then that it’s you still repeating the mantra of pleas. The fingers that were curled against the skin of your neck now comfortingly stroke through your hair, tucking strands that have been shaken loose behind one ear. 

Agatha cooes softly, eyes once that of a starved animal now search your face with some small amount of concern and tenderness. Your voice dies out slowly as you return to your body and gain more control over your faculties, wondering humorously if you actually just briefly lost consciousness due to the amount of pleasure you experienced. 

The woman that’s holding you sighs quietly in relief as you finally meet her eyes lucidly. A soft wince leaves your throat as she gently lowers your leg, that has made a vice around her hip, to the ground. Even in your semi aware state you still catch the way her grip tightens and slows your limbs descent to ensure it causes you the least amount of pain possible. At Agatha’s prompting with her own fingers, you flex your fingers and toes, attempting to regain full sensation in your extremities. 

You’re unsure when she removed herself from you but you do note the emptiness you now feel without her, even in your blissful state.

Agatha then helps you find your footing, mumbling gently about making sure you’re able to balance, but still giving you a silent moment to process. It’s so unexpectedly sweet, you think, the way she’s doting over you given the preceding events of this night.

Once you’re standing on your own two feet again, you slide one hand from her back to rest against her chest, just above her heart. You realize you’ve yet to meet her eyes with more than a glance since your brief ascension from this mortal plane, partially self conscious about what you might find in them, no matter how silly that sounds on the heels of her taking you apart the way she just did. 

As you steady your breathing and finally raise your eyes to meet hers you see her already staring. In a word, she looks fascinated. That curl of her lip is back that tells you whatever categorization she was working on earlier has still come up uncertain, even having just seen you in what is probably the most vulnerable state anyone ever has.

It’s almost funny, everything that has happened in the last hour combining in your mind, and in this pleasure-drunk condition you’ve found yourself in, “almost funny” means you can’t help but let loose the laugh that begins bubbling out of you.

You throw your head back in a fit of giggles that only proves to further confuse the witch before you. 

“What is it?” She inquires, her voice husking in a way you haven’t heard before as both eyebrows raise in a further confused expression that only makes you laugh harder… and also makes you want to kiss her. 

So, you do. 

Because you want to, and your brain is probably slightly oxygen deprived, and you can’t find a good reason not to. Not that you spend much time looking for one.

You lean forward, cutting off your own laugh by capturing her lips between yours. Your teeth bite playfully into her bottom lip in a somewhat sloppy, but undeniably joyful way, and elation washes over you at the return of the messy brushing of lips. 

The two of you stay that way for a while, kiss deepening languidly between soft laughter that Agatha now joins you in, though slight puzzlement is still evident in her tone. Eventually, you part, your hands having found a home on either side of the witch’s face. 

As you pull away, you’re unsure what you’re expecting, but what looks back at you is a more simmering version of that darkness that had briefly cleared from her eyes. That ravenous manner flickers back into view, not threatening but undeniably there. The coallike dilation portends to snuff out any remnants of crystalline irises as she takes a labored breath, glancing down to your lips once more before meeting your anticipating stare. 

You were wrong before, you think, when you thought you wanted to sate this hunger. You know in this moment that all you want to do is feed it, slowly. 

Ensuring it will keep on chasing you forever.

[opashoo]

Hi! This is a question about your (really cool) Scuglang. Now, I have noticed that you sometimes use the Rain World symbols and script for your Scuglang. Because of the language not being a European-based language, I'll assume that there isn't really an alphabet, so to speak. How did you apply the Rain World symbols to your Scuglang, and how does it work enough to be able to be written?

Edit: Here is a link to a reddit comment where I've posted up some info about a Yongasabi font that I've developed, as well as a download link for the font. The glyph documentation document is here, though it is largely information taken from this post and elaborated.

Hello and thank you for taking interest in my (really cool) Scuglang Yongasabi, I am very proud of it. I have yet to make a more comprehensive guide as to how the writing system works but I threw together a very rough and simple guide on my work computer with mspaint and a mouse just now. I have since added some new images so this doesn't apply to all of them anymore. So this should actually cover everything about writing in Yongasabi. Have fun!

Here are all the isolated consonant and CV syllable glyphs in Yongasabi. Note that the first row is for isolated consonants. Not included are punctuation or CVC syllable blocks because I'm not hand drawing 1734 glyph combinations, and it would be incredibly unhelpful to do so. Instead I'll just explain how to synthesize CV and CVC blocks below.

A key as well, since that may help.

So at its core, Yongasabi uses an abugida, so all regular consonant characters are pronounced with an added A by default (ka, ga, ta, pa, etc...) As you can see by this diagram, writing a line above the character changes the A to an I (so ka becomes ki) and a line below changes it to an O instead (so ba becomes bo).

Then there's the long vowels. For standalone long vowels, the Monk symbol is written within the long vowel characters. When combining the with a consonant, the Monk symbol is replaced with the consonant (as you can see here with P and S).

CVC (consonant-vowel-consonant) syllable blocks, syllables that start and end with a consonant, are written by stacking the consonant characters. By default, they are read as CaC, but writing a line above turns it into CiC. Separating the characters makes it CoC.

CVC syllable blocks with long vowels, including CaeC, CuC, and CeiC, are formed differently. CaeC and CuC are formed by encompassing the equivalent CaC syllable block within the long vowel glyph. There is a special rule for Caeh blocks, as noted below.

CeiC syllable blocks are formed by surrounding the initial consonant glyph with four marks and placing that above the final consonant. As noted, n and d glyphs in initial position will join to the final glyph.

VC blocks (vowel-consonant) where the syllable starts with a vowel and ends with a consonant, are formed like CVC blocks but with the Monk symbol in place of the initial consonant.

Here are some more specific rules that I've finally written down properly (and edited into this post several months after originally posting it). It can get to be a lot to memorize, but it's possible. Several people have already reverse-engineered all the rules just by observing the behaviors of the font I developed, which is bonkers to me.

Punctuation in Yongasabi has fewer strict rules than English and tend to reflect the way one would speak. The symbols are as follows:

Full stops act like periods, marking the end of a sentence.

Pauses act like commas, marking a natural pause in speech, such as when listing items or separating clauses and ideas, though it is sometimes used to mark the end of a sentence with a less complete pause than a full stop.

The text end symbol is used to mark the end of a text, usually the end of a section, chapter, or book.

Gate brackets are used like parenthesis, to add additional information that may not be necessary.

The exclamation and question marks behave as in English.

Arrow brackets are sometimes used like gate brackets, but more often are simply used for decoration.

Long dashes are used to express an elongated sound like (aaa would be writing instead like a—) and to intensify exclamations and questions (!!! and ??? are instead written as !— and ?—)

Ellipses represent the writer trailing off or becoming quiet.

Short dashes are used almost exclusively to link names and titles to addresses (maki-andae, omi-tei, maya-ijun)

Quotes are quotes.

Here's an example of the language written with the writing system, then romanized, translated, and broken down into its grammatical parts. It took a lot of time tuning the writing system to account for all the possible syllable block combinations but I'm happy with the results! Funny enough, it started as an attempt to make a working writing system out of Rain World's glyphs, just as a thought exercise, and eventually I wanted to make a whole language to support the writing system (then the writing system changed radically to support the new language.) Thank you for asking, and hopefully I'll have a release post for the language ready soon, since it is actually finished at this point.

[shkika]

If W1 and Gabe ever find a truce, would Gabriel get annoyed by W1 talking to itself all the time or would they actually have good conversations between the 2 of them? Would Gabriel ask why the two of them decided to fuse in the first place? Are they even able to speak?? Who does the speaking??

(So many questions sorry!!! 😫)

Small assortment of low-effort fun doodles where Gabriel actually brings W1 to heaven for you anon!

First of all all of W1's internal dialogue is very much internal. The two brains constantly talk to each other in there silently. So if anything it will be eerily silent, because it'd simply forget to communicate what it's thinking about. VV1 simply has no inherent need to include anyone else in it's conversations with itself.

W1 does have a voice synthesizer and both of them speak. Both are very loose with what the other is allowed to say and I mean VERY. In addition, if they get too excited and try to use the voice synthesizer at the same time it gets super buggy!

As for Gabriel I think he lacks very important context and information about W1 as a whole. He doesn't even know or assume the machine is actually a buy one get one for free kind of deal. I think he'd be a bit..? Weirded out?

Not that he hasn't seen enough horrors, by all means hes desensitized. But Ultrakill's hell is full with quite a few entities that are all about unwillingly sharing a body and using that as torture. W1 enjoying it's predicament is... interesting..? It's curious even! He'd definitely ask it why it is the way it is!

... And many other questions too probably!!!! There's a lot to be curious about with this bug.

[tavolgisvist]

“Oh! Darling” is a masterful piece of singing from Paul, his most spine-tingling vocal assault since “Long Tall Sally” and “I’m Down.” Beneath a motorized banging piano (left) and blistering chopped guitar chords (right), he gives himself a swaggering bass line that swerves and pivots, mitigating the angered surface with a constantly swaying bottom. The heated rhythms of “Got to Get You into My Life” are slowed to a simmering gospel blues torched with Ray Charles vocal melodramatics, sacred inflections redeeming secular heartache.

In addition to the angular bass line that undergirds the verse, Paul writes himself a walloping solo vocal break at the top of each verse. Like Elvis Presley in “One Night” (1957), McCartney crams more into every new title outcry, making each one more charged than the last—it’s the kind of break that allows a great singer to unleash the very essence of what the song is all about. By seizing the moment completely, Paul defines it, shapes it in his own terms; his vocal authority commands all the other players. He makes these moments unig-norable the same way he makes the feverish ad-libs in “Hey Jude” so compelling—by letting his guts tell him where to land, and trusting his spontaneous sense of what sounds right to guide him toward the most riveting spontaneous phrasing. Nothing sounds planned because it isn’t, and the gripping sense of emotion in the rising and descending swells at the end of each verse helps ground his flights as they set up his next entrance.

The bridge transcends the lift of the verses: as he sings “When you told me/You didn’t need me anymore,” Paul’s voice comes unhinged, and the clipped guitar of the verses balloons into huge arpeggiations of the harmonies (right). It’s one long scream of pain, and Paul sustains the tension right up to the last solo plea, “I nearly broke down and di-i-i-ed, oh, darling!” as he links the final desperate cries of the bridge up with the return of the verse. The escalation of harmony in the bridge is almost secondary to the way he contorts the word “need” (from A major, the band jumps from D7 to F7 on that word to intensify the basic blues progression) . In these moments he nearly leaves everyone else behind, and his focus dares the others to match his emotional pitch.

The third verse is all warmed up: Paul takes more chances stretching words (“I’ll never maaaake it . . . alone”), and lets silences spew their own inner tensions. The second time they move toward the bridge, Paul ad-libs “Believe me, darling”; we know what’s going to happen, and they know that we know, so they’re forced to make even more out of it the second time.

As the second bridge comes around the bend, the sense of excitement is inescapable: the persuasive piano rumble that gets going in the left barely hints at the explosion of energy that takes place once they land on it. The end of the band’s fuse suddenly ignites Paul’s voice: “When you told me—whoo—woo!!”

That single ad-lib takes the whole track into hyper-space—you can hear it in the way the piano’s octaves get manic throughout the succeeding bridge, and the way it reluctantly cools to the unsettled determination of the final verse (“I’ll never le-e-et . . . you down”). (With energy like this in the air, there’s no need to dress things up with roving synthesizers and sly backup vocal jokes.)

The last line Paul sings has all the sorrow of rejection and the resolve of not caving in that the entire song has sustained: he grieves over his loss, convinced that he doesn’t deserve it. A guitar frames the track with bristled notes as the band holds the final chord.

(Tell Me Why by Tim Riley, 1998/2002)

[nebelexe]

It's time to learn more about..

Alien-Gene from my AU!

❕I only call him an alien because he's from another planet, he's not exactly what we used to understand by that word(?). In fact, Earthlings are also aliens for someone. Well, you know.

Gene‘s abilities

⋆☀︎. Salava

Under certain conditions, additional glands activate alongside his salivary ones. The two substances mix, forming actual lava. The extra glands cannot work for a while after eating, because their work prevents the release of digestive enzymes.

⋆☀︎. Fire breath

His lungs synthesize methane and hydrogen. After a deep inhale (to gather oxygen), exhaling forces all three gases through his throat, where they ignite.

⋆☀︎. Liftig huge weights

Gene can lift up to 10 tons. His absolute maximum.

⋆☀︎. Extreme heat resistance

Gene is literally invulnerable to temperatures up to 5500 °C (~9950°F)

Features of Gene‘s behavior and structure

⋆☀︎. Wings

Gene can extend draconic wings from his back, with a 10-meter wingspan

⋆☀︎. Hollow bones

His wings are intended to lift his massive body, but only because his bones are hollow, like bird’s. Despite this, they remain incredibly durable.

⋆☀︎. Disguise

The same substances again, but one cell layer. Gene‘s skin cells are able to break down molecules into atoms and deactivate some of them, subsequently converting them into melanin. And so on an infinite number of times. His horns are bones, and he can hide them too, as well as his fangs, which simply press into his jaw and stay there until Gene pushes them back out. Also, unlike Ace, Gene can change the shape of his ears, he does this by "melting" the cartilage and forming them anew.

⋆☀︎. Eating habits

He’ll eat absolutely anything! Favorites include ceramic dishes and ice cream, which is bad for him.

⋆☀︎. Cooling down

Gene’s body temperature is 50°C (122°F). Dropping it too low is dangerous, he’ll weaken and, in the worst case, die. That's why he shouldn't eat too much cold.

⋆☀︎. What about intestine?

Yes, he has a full set of human organs. And yes, he has d!ck too. We won’t show that.

⋆☀︎. Water

Gene is denser than water and sinks like a rock. However, he isn’t afraid of it he knows how to handle himself in the water without harm.

⋆☀︎. Brain function

Gene's brain works differently from Ace's: it is not able to instantly absorb and process huge amounts of information, so he had a harder time learning English than Ace. But Gene's speech is almost indistinguishable from human speech.

Interesting facts

⋆☀︎. He loves sweets very much

⋆☀︎. His hobby is pulling Ace's hair and pissing him off in every possible way. That's how they love each other (=´∀｀)人(´∀｀=)

⋆☀︎. He likes when Ace braids his hair

[neuro-chaos]

Fantasie, Fuge und Toccata in Japanischen Modi

An experiment, with transposing thirteen of Johann Sebastian Bach's Fantasias, Toccatas And Fugues, to the major and minor pentatonic modes of Japanese classical music.

Performed on the Oberheim OB-EZ 8 Voice synthesiser, a gift from GForce Software.

Please enjoy 1 hour and 47 minutes of Baroque Japanese tranquillity.

[synthtv]

Intro to Synthesis Part 2, types of synthesis

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Roxette - The Look 1989

"The Look" is a song by pop duo Roxette; Sweden's second-best-selling music act after ABBA. It was released in early 1989 as the fourth single from their second studio album, Look Sharp! (1988). The album was an immediate commercial success in their home country, spending seven weeks at number one on the Swedish Albums Chart. "The Look" was written by Per Gessle as an exercise while learning how to operate the Ensoniq ESQ-1 synthesizer he had recently purchased, using a repeated A–G–D bass line as the song's core. The track's sixteenth-note rhythm was inspired by the work of ZZ Top. The original title was "He's Got the Look", with the lyrics using male pronouns. Gessle said this was done because he initially wanted Marie Fredriksson to sing the track. Both he and EMI Sweden had chosen to highlight Fredriksson as Roxette's lead vocalist. However, when recording the demo, Gessle realised the song "didn't fit her style that well, so I had a go and it sounded OK."

The singles from Look Sharp! at the time were only released in Sweden, Germany and France. However, an American exchange student from Minnesota named Dean Cushman returned from Sweden and gave his copy of the album to his local Top 40 radio station, KDWB-FM in Minneapolis. The station's program director Brian Phillips initially ignored Cushman's request to play a song from the album, leaving the CD unplayed in his office for several weeks. Phillips eventually listened to it after learning Cushman had come to the office requesting the return of his CD. Immediately impressed by the album's opening track, "The Look" was played by the station for the first time on US radio less than an hour later, and the response from listeners was overwhelmingly positive; the station immediately began receiving phone calls to replay the track.

KDWB began distributing the track to their sister radio operations, sending 500 copies to other stations throughout the United States. EMI America promptly signed the duo to a recording contract as a result of the airplay. The label had previously rejected Roxette as "unsuitable for the American market". The song had already entered the top fifty of the Billboard Hot 100 before official promotion began, peaking at number one on the chart eight weeks later. This made "The Look" the third number one single by a Swedish act on the Billboard Hot 100, following Blue Swede's "Hooked on a Feeling" (poll #152) in 1974 and ABBA's "Dancing Queen" in 1976.

The track went on to top the charts in 25 countries. It spent three weeks atop the New Zealand Singles Chart, and six weeks at number one in Australia, where it was certified platinum for sales in excess of 70,000 copies. It also topped the charts throughout Scandinavia. The song spent five weeks at number one in West Germany, and an additional five weeks at number two. It was a massive success in Spain and Switzerland, spending eight weeks at number one in both countries. It reached number seven on the UK Singles Chart.

"The Look" received a total of 80,5% yes votes!

[bleucalire]

Artist question, what is something that you think beginner artists tend to over think?

I'd say "style", maybe ?

I see many beginner artists "searching for their own style" but i don't think there is such a need ? Just draw the way you're more comfortable with, the way you find the more fun/appealing. You can also switch, and try many things, i think there's nothing wrong with trying many ways of drawing that are very different, but that you enjoy nonetheless ! Also, a thing that i learnt when coming to japan (and that i was never really told when i was in france) is the importance of COPYING drawings of illustators/animators you like ! As an exercise of course. Try to draw exactly how they draw, and you'll find new tricks, new ways to synthesize shapes etc. that you might use afterwards ! In the end you'll draw naturally in a mix of all your influences/what you studied.

I think there's no need to draw something thinking "I NEED TO FIND MY STYLE". The more you'll draw and study other artists' works, the more you'll find different ways to draw things, and what are those that are the most comfortable/enjoyable for you. I think it's a natural process. Your "style" is and addition of all the things you love.

As an animator i have to adapt to each production's designs, which is great because i learn new ways to design things everytime, and then i can use them afterwards how i like in my personal drawings!

I really like trying out new things/ways to draw. I always learn new things that help me in DRAWING IN GENERAL !　(different cones i did these last few years ↑)

Hope this helps ! Just have fun and draw/study a lot what you like and it'll come naturally, i think !