#astral express quartet

[dawnoftheeighthday]

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[spryzzi-arts]

ill finish this eventually but ive already spent five hours on just this so. here it is for now ig. drawing four people all interacting is so difficult ong

ANYWAY poly AE quartet anyone ?? im so obsessed with the idea of all of them being in a relationship yall dont even understand 😭 im starting a fic series on them too i have so many ideas

[aroacefirefly]

꒰ 🦝🍁🌸🪽 𖹭 TRAILHENGMARCHDAY ノ ASTRALEXPRESSQUARTET ꒱

౨ৎ

finally posting an hsr ship edit!! (≧▽≦) their ship names are both so long oml

this new editing style is beginning to grow more on me :3

[strawbairicake]

various hsr trios and how they play uno! -various x reader (can be seen as platonic or romantic!)

warnings: none!

word count: 816

author’s note: i never post writing during the week, but enjoy haha! technically you guys would be a quartet if you played uno with them but like!! if we ignore that fact, i think life is still okay haha! hope you enjoy! <3

taglist: @cmiru, @unriding (Moze’s here, that’s why you’re tagged!), @m1ckeyb3rry (the trio of amphoreus is not here but thought you’d like this!), @vyyper, + @sheyfu! lmk if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

The Astral Express (March 7th, Dan Heng, Trailblazer):

Dan Heng wins almost all the time, it’s almost infuriating. 

Trailblazer always has the most ridiculous cards and somehow still loses.

you and March team up to try to take down Dan Heng- it never works, unfortunately. 

you, March 7th, Dan Heng, and the Trailblazer sat in the express car, playing a very fun and not at all hostile game of uno. you and March sat next to each other, while the Trailblazer and Dan Heng sat across from you. honestly, if uno was a game of teamwork, you should be teaming up with Dan Heng, since he always wins. but do you ever learn your lesson? no! not one bit. you place a +4 card down on the pile, March adds another +4, and now the game reaches Dan Heng, who slightly smirks, much to your dismay. he somehow places another +4 on the pile and quietly goes “uno.” 

you all lose your minds. 

The Yaoqing trio (Feixiao, Jiaoqiu [non-blind for this scenario!], Moze):

you all take a shot everytime Feixiao wins a round, which thankfully isn’t very often. she may be a general, but she sucks at the game.

Moze, however, is an absolute god at the game. gets all the good cards, plays fair, and is a good sport. truly the only question is how he ended up here (Feixiao begged him with puppy eyes).

Jiaoqiu plays fair, has pretty ok cards, and sometimes wins. he’s not quite a god at the game, but he’s not AWFUL like Feixiao. 

you sat next to Jiaoqiu, while Feixiao and Moze sat across from you both. for the most part, the game is very calm, and might be your last game given how droopy your eyes are getting. Jiaoqiu has his cards in one hand (you can’t see them, stingy) and he’s got his other arm around your waist and rubbing shapes into your side. god you could fall asleep if it weren’t for the sound of-

“uno!” Feixiao just about hollers, waking you out of your droopy state. Moze rolls his eyes but plays a reverse, which makes Feixiao draw a few cards and you hear her mutter “mean” under her breath. Jiaoqiu chuckles at how you tensed up previously. hopefully this game won’t last much longer. 

Divergent/Simulated Universe trio (The Herta, Ruan Mei, Screwllum): 

can see Ruan Mei winning these types of games unintentionally. 

Herta has a 50/50 shot of winning. if she doesn’t win, she takes a breather where she goes and rages (very funnily, might you add, you record her crash outs).

Screwllum doesn’t see the appeal of the game but if the three of you ask nicely, he always sits and plays with you all. 

you’re sitting next to Ruan Mei and listening to Herta go on and on about how she’s going to win. Screwllum watches the chaos unfold between the four of you. Ruan Mei sips her tea and nudges you to play. you had zoned out briefly so you were thankful for the nudge.

“uno!” you said excitedly. 

“oh mother f-“ Herta started before Screwllum covered her mouth. Ruan Mei sighed.

“I would appreciate no foul language in the presence of (name), madame Herta.” Screwllum said after uncovering her mouth. 

“Oh i’ll show you foul language-“ 

Herta then proceeded to crash out over uno for the next twenty minutes, putting the game on hold. You and Ruan Mei sipped your tea and messaged each other in the meantime. 

Interastral Peace Corporation (Aventurine, Topaz feat. Numby, Dr. Ratio): 

I can definitely see Aventurine being awful at uno, if his luck comes from gambling, then surely his luck is ass at something he (for the most part) cannot gamble. 

Topaz probably kicks ass at uno, she can get very competitive. 

Ratio pretends not to care about the game, but if you in particular ask him to play with you and the crew, he scoffs before following you to play. 

You and Topaz sat next to each other, mostly because Numby wanted to say hello to you. Numby sat on your lap as you watched Aventurine scramble for cards from the deck. Topaz is laughing, almost hysterically, at the amount of cards he’s collected. Dr. Ratio looks rather uninterested, but you know he’s most likely going to win. Aventurine finally draws a green card and smacks it down on the pile. You and Aventurine watch (in horror, for Aventurine) as Veritas puts a green reverse on the pile of cards and goes, “uno”. 

“Doctor, are you fucking kidding me?” 

Topaz wheezes and laughs even more hysterically at the sight in front of her. you laugh and watch Aventurine draw a few more cards before playing. you all came to a sudden realization: this game is NOT ending soon. something you all have come to know and enjoy, for the most part.

©2025 strawbairicake. do not repost, copy, translate, modify, or use for AI.

[rebecca-lotto]

i like how my main solution to who to ship aventurine with is just give him a giant polycule

like , in addition to Dr Ratio , we've got stelle as the double (triple?) income no kids aunt who brings mountains of gifts (and tales of her adventures ) for the kitties.

and since Stelle is a scavenger , quite a few of the kitties presents were made by hand.

both the wagon and cat tower were built with gleaming bronze, plush cushions, all sorts of fabrics fluttering in the wind and colorful glass accents; combined together it brings the feeling of a desert oasis .

and with the desert , comes adventure.

aventurine and dr ratio walk in on stelle recounting the tale of her escapades out in the desert to the tiny trio .

" so there the 4 of us were, we had just rescued mr welt and the empress' guards were hot on our tails!" ...

apparently welt yang was nearly married to a cantankerous sheik against his will before stelle , march 7th and Dan Heng intervened .

said intervention led to most of the palace being flooded , half the crown jewels being stolen , at least 3 separate gunfights , and a car chase that resulted in the astral express getting dinged by both hail and bullets.

stelle was explaining how the quartet made it back to the astral express "the empress' goons were starting to fire at us again , so i grabbed the MAC-10 and yelled for dan heng to take over driving" and that was when she noticed ratio and aventurine

the wagon that stelle built for the cats is a far fancier version of something like this

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Colin Fisher

Photo by ilyse krivel

Toronto-based multi-instrumentalist Colin Fisher is on a constant quest for the ecstatic through sound. His journey has taken him in many directions, from the math-rock inspired group Sing That Yell That Spell, to the fiery free improvisation duo Not the Wind, Not the Flag. As a band leader, his free jazz quartet released the white-hot Living Midnight for Astral Spirits in 2020, about which Derek Taylor wrote, “Passages of ruminant restraint alternate with excoriating blasts and outbursts, but the means always remains intelligible and momentum driven whether full-steam or incremental.” Solo, Fisher has recently wafted in a more contemplative direction that might see him associated with the new age revival, but this work is as exploratory and engaging as his most spirited improvisational outings. Here, he lists some of the pieces within which he experiences the sublime.

Jean-Pierre Leguay — Chant d’Airain

Some of my first experiences with the sublime in music were in church. I abhorred being in church (and would even attempt to hide to avoid attendance) but at the end of service the organist played as the congregation filed out. The selections were usually secular and I can remember my rapt attention. Not because of some aesthetic taste but because I was having a physical/biological response to the sounds. Being in the resonant chamber of the cathedral provided a fully immersive experience. Rather than suggest whatever music was being played at the time I’m going to fast forward to my mid 20s… While in the same church, I heard the principal organist of Notre Dame improvise with some Messiaen-symmetrical ideas that lifted me out of my corporeal form and left me sobbing in a church pew at the very church I would have done everything in my power not to be present in as a child. The organist was Jean-Pierre Leguay.

Ravi Shankar — At Monterey Pop

An early transmission from what seemed like outer space at the time, as a young child I heard the sounds of Ravi Shankar and Alla Rakha live at Monterey Pop (my parents had this and the record with Yehudi Menuhin.) Ravi is far from my fav Hindustani musician or sitarist, of which I have innumerable favorites now. But I’m particularly enamored with Vilayat Khan after reading his biography, The Sixth String of Vilayat Khan, a couple of years ago. Pandit Pran Nath is also a huge inspiration.

Polvo — Cor-Crane Secret

Without sifting through the rubble of my punk/hardcore teens (which was totally legit inspirational beauty, from Minor Threat and straight edge to grunge, etc.) I want to highlight a band that literally changed my life in my mid to late teens. When I first heard Cor-Crane Secret by Polvo, I didn’t realize that music like this existed. It gave me permission to go on long wonky improvisational explorations — endless melodies and whammied chords that would go on for hours sometimes. I also got to see them on the Today’s Active Lifestyles tour when I was 18, totally life changing.

Ornette Coleman — The Shape of Jazz to Come

The next stage I’ll focus on has a little more girth: my introduction to jazz/free jazz/improv/fusion. I think I first discovered this music by accident. I remember seeing a clip of Monk on the news the day he died. I was much younger, and I thought to myself “this music is like an alien transmission!” But I put that away in the vaults for a couple of decades. I also remember seeing a clip on TV of a soprano player at a jazz fest in Toronto, playing the craziest shit I’d ever heard (once again on a news program,) but had little-to-no context. The clip lasted probably 10 seconds but felt longer and I remember thinking something like “this is more punk rock than punk rock!” hahaha. So, there was a hunger there that I needed to satiate. But I had no access to any recordings where I lived. I remember reading books at the library about jazz history and the only CDs I could borrow were Manteca or big band music. I had to imagine what Song X sounded like for the time being. Ornette’s The Shape of Jazz to Come was one of the first albums I actually bought, and it was more magical than any description could possibly illustrate. As pedestrian as this may seem to everyone now, it was another life changer for me. I can remember late nights sitting by myself, probably super high on good weed, listening to “Lonely Woman” and weeping.

John McLaughlin — Extrapolation

In my early days of discovering jazz, I also came across the music of John Mclaughlin, initially via Mahavishnu Orchestra. His whole profile as a guitarist was incredibly inspiring for me — someone who had an equal footing in jazz, Flamenco, Indian classical music and fusion — a model for what I could become as a player (although I don’t think our styles are really even that comparable.) One of his albums that I think is maybe overlooked in his career is Extrapolation which has an incredible lineup and the compositions are incredible.

John Coltrane — Interstellar Space

In considering this list I’m realizing there’s no way I can touch on all the music that has shaped me. But there is an album that’s shaped a great deal in terms of how I play and in what seems to be my favorite type of collaborative setting — the duo. Interstellar Space is an absolute masterpiece. Everything feels raw — the intensity, the interplay, the emotion. As much as I love so much of John Coltrane’s music, there’s something about this record that was akin to hearing punk music for the first time. There’s an immediacy to expression and interaction. And it was something that felt available to me (certainly not his virtuoso chops, which felt otherworldly — an unscalable monolith.) The direct communication between two people was a revelation and the content of this music felt like something I could mine for the rest of my life.

The Ivo Perelman Trio — “Cantilena”

Fast-forward another few years or more and I had travelled with some good friends to NYC for I think it was the JVC Jazz Fest. We wanted to see MMW play (of whom I still think Friday Afternoon In the Universe is a perfect album.) While we were there though, we saw so much beautiful music that blew me away. The most significant for me though, was catching the last 10 minutes of a set by the Ivo Perelman trio in Tribeca somewhere (the trio was with Jay Rosen on drums and Dominic Duval on bass, who I played with several years later. RIP). It was electrifying. I was moved enough to go and talk to him after and he gave me an unmarked demo tape of Seeds, Vision and Counterpoint. There’s a track on the album called “Cantilena” and it really drops into this heavy space for around 10 minutes that gives me the chills every time I hear it. There is this free lyricism that is still absolutely elating to me. I love his playing and he’s still probably my favorite living saxophonist.

Marilyn Crispell — Vignettes

Masabumi Kikuchi — Out of Bounds

Using lyricism as a segue it brings me to the music of Marilyn Crispell, especially her albums Amaryllis,Nothing Ever Was Anyway, Vignettes and many others. She has a mode of free ballad playing that is absolutely transcendental. I will also mention Masabumi Kikuchi in the same breath. I find the desire more and more to play with a similar intention even though I rarely find myself in the context to do so.

Jute Gyte — Birefringence

A total shift from this narrative of discovery and development is metal music. Something I’d been listening to since my teens and getting hip to some cool thrash music through Canadian band Voivod, particularly the album Dimension Hatröss. I've continued to follow the music and all of its various subgenres and have so many favorite picks, but I’ll choose just one and it’s a total mindbender. Jute Gyte’s Birefringence actually eclipses easy category and you really just need to experience it.

Giacinto Scelsi — “Uaxuctum”

Catherine Christer Hennix — “Blues Alif Lam Mim In The Modes Of Rag Infinity/Rag Cosmosis”

My last pick is another double pick (I know I’m cheating) because it relates to the power of music and ties it into the first selection. Another current, among many, of musical obsessions is “new music.” But when I heard Giacinto Scelsi’s music for the first time it surpassed all of my previous notions about what was possible with composed music — it felt like music from an ecstatic vision. Even as I listen to the track now, it immediately accesses some occult realm of sublimity that feels similar to the music I first heard in church but with an unbridled intensity and depth.

Another more recent selection that fits into this category — but that is different in that it embraces a sort of stasis rather than dynamic movement — is the music of Catherine Christer Hennix. If you don’t know her, she’s a deep well of musical/mathematical/spiritual inspiration for me. Another music without a real equivalent in this day and age — something that echoes ancestral currents as well as the vibration of the cosmos itself. Thanks for reading/listening. Peace be with you. xoxo

[doomedandstoned]

Planet of the Dead Return to the Stars as ‘Pilgrims’

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

Album Art by Jonathan Guzi

Every other day there's a story that calls our eyes heavenward to wonder about new planets discovered in nearby solar systems, terraforming Mars, or exploring the smallest elements in the universe. Anywhere has to be better than here, any time better than here right now. At least that's what a lot of people are feeling. How about the power of music to elevate us into vast dimensions of the imagination. One band out of New Zealand is interested in finding out what limits one can breach when the driving power of doom rock is hotwired with adventurous sci-fi/fantasy storytelling.

I speak, of course, of Wellington quartet PLANET OF THE DEAD Last year, Mark Mundell (vox), Malcolm McKenzie (guitar), Kees Hengst (bass), and Josh Hussey (drums) brought us the impressive first introduction to their soundscape and narrative concept, which elicited no small amount of praise for 'Fear of a Dead Planet' (2020), including the enthusiastic Bandcamper who gushed, "Some of the best jams I've heard in this universe!" Listen to fan favorites "The Eternal Void" or "Mind Killer" and you'll discover why there's excitement around this band's future.

But Planet of the Dead wasn't done yet. As many of us have already experienced, unexpected and elongated times of forced aloneness do crazy things to the creative mind. For one, it frustrates, as you cannot express the present songs you feel so strongly about to live crowds filled with spontaneous drifters. The moods usually shift out of sheer exasperated boredom, leading to the insatiable urge to begin tinkering again. 'Pilgrim' (2021) comes at us like an explosion with stories to tell and songs to wail. It's purpose-driven interdimensional doom we're talking about here. This may have been the impetus behind the second album’s creation, so closely after the birth of their first (incidentally, both records feature exactly eight songs a piece).

"Gom Jabbar" is the first creature we chance upon in this otherworldly dimension. He speaks with synth-enhanced vocals (ever so slightly) that's practically like an alien encounter if you listen to it high (gosh, sorry. I've gotta stop leaking album reviewer secrets like that). A defiant second voice joins the dialogue, sounding for all the world like Goliath, Hercules, or Hulkian figure.

"Pilgrim" stirs up grey and purple auras as this groovy sandcrawler glides across dunes and high above deserts, searching for the most fitting place to (re)build the world they once knew, perhaps even dare to dream beyond it. I'm assuming they're a scientific voyage on the run from a restrictive government in a week's long mini series I should have pitched to NBC 20 years ago for big bucks. The song allows your imagination drift on its own recognisance, before the closing words call us back to the shadows.

A dire feeling blankets the air throughout "Nostromo," a stomping little number that's straight-up doom rock, with a cool streetwalking kind of stride. It's impossible to not to think of previous adventures aboard vessels christened Nostromo, but each are mysterious encounters with the unknown, some of which yield new insights into our humanity by taking us back through some strange luck of heavy metal time travel to experience pivotal moments in astral history.

"The Sprawl" may be one of the most dismal legs of this journey, but in an exotic acid-soaked kind of way that makes you question your reality (and your own sanity) before the trip is done. The song is good about building various layers of joy and tension, then meshing them together for some distorted, fuzzy, electric, sparkin' Frankensteinian experience. Where will the spiral take us next? Confident lead gets a riff-enhanced jolt, staging march-like-groove that eventually turns meditative, psychedelic, and ethereal. And that's just the first side of the record! Go ahead, flip it over. You can't stop this far-invested in the trip. Shhh. Listen. Grungy, rumbling energy, extraterrestrial harmonics, and gnarly acid-touched solos are just ahead.

"Escape from Smith's Grove" jars the senses with the unexpected tonal shift from clarinets into a seismic pattern of eruptions that match our stomping feet. This is, after all, a jailbreak of sorts.

"Directive IV" takes the perspective of an enforcement officer who is just doing his job. Mark Mundell's vocal stylings are on-point. For me they compare to the pipes of the late-great Wayne Static, the spastic, growling frontman of Static X. Others may see more similarity with the "common man" grit of Scott Angelacos from Hollow Leg and Junior Bruce. Or even Kirk Windstein's apocalyptic spitfire with Crowbar.

The song appears to be a struggle of conscience between compassion and machine-like order, a tug-of-war that after several epic call and response segments in which our protagonist is put on trial by his peers. The tight grip of fascistic space goons gradually loosens their grip in the song's final minutes, as a street-worn riff storm carries our rebels far away from the grasp of whatever the fucks. That means our (now treasonous) soldier has a second chance at life in the (are you ready for this?) the unknown wilds of...

..."The Cursed Earth." This is a perfect song for that moment in a show when the alcohol or "legal tobacco" has sufficiently unlocked your third eye with stellar riffs and choruses (this song has several "ah-ha" moments). The vocals are obscured here and are sometimes backed up by other singers to emphasize a specific point in the lyrical narrative. The final moments again are slowed down with impactful tonal moments that make you think you're on the edge spying some strange meeting of warrior souls.

Things are not what they seem They never are

"The Great Wave" pulls you right into its hypnotic sway, interjected with extraterrestrial strains of thought communicated as if by a very blasted HAL 9000, our onboard computer. It's downright creepy when it hits you. Then again, maybe that's what we want from an intrepid album such as Pilgrim, to rope us into a fascinating narrative and invite us to return to sort out the details, several spins down the road. Now that I think of it, maybe these songs are all references pinned to great Alien, Robocop, and Judge Dredd moments? Listen closely to "Nostromo" and "Directive IV" and wonder. A good album should do that to a person, draw you into its storytelling and musical colour. It has me listening to it immediately from beginning to end, then end to beginning. If you wanna give it a shot, Planet of the Dead's monsterpiece will definitely reward your back-to-back listens.

Look for Pilgrims to come to life on July 23rd, with a fantastic spread of options on vinyl and CD (pre-order here). In the meanwhile, Planet of the Dead are letting us join the party leading up to the big drop right here at Doomed & Stoned HQ, where you can hear each track in full. Don't miss crucial insight from the band itself in 'Some Buzz' to follow. Then join in sharing your thoughts and theories (stoned or otherwise) on this transcendental New Zealand metal album in the comments below!

Give ear...

LISTEN: Planet of the Dead - Pilgrim

SOME BUZZ

Just little over a year following the release of their auspicious debut album, 'Fear of a Dead Planet' (2020), which attained more than 35,000 views on YouTube, New Zealand cosmic stoner and doom four-piece band Planet of the Dead are back with a new full-length album titled 'Pilgrims' (2021).

Hurtling towards the forever yawning void within their busted-up space freighter, they draw inspiration from classic science fiction and horror, and push supermassive and megalithic riffs to the outer limits.

"Our second album came together around the titular track 'Pilgrim', which is based on the book 'Slaughterhouse 5' by Kurt Vonnegut. Musically, it plays upon the themes of moments trapped in the amber." So says the band about this new album.

"Our basic concept is heavy music played heavy, and we try to keep it simple. There are recurrent themes in our riffs which gives the album a sense of coherence, but we've experimented with some new sounds in the latest album which we feel results in a greater sense of dynamism.

"Lyrically, we dug deeper into our obsessions with classic sci-fi and horror. There is a distinctive and undeniable fan-fiction element to our work. We actively seek out cultural references, and weave them into our tapestries. Ultimately, we do everything we do for the great god Dyzan, for his greater glory...and for our mutual pleasure.”

Set for release on July 23rd, 'Pilgrims' will surely cement Planet of the Dead’s reputation as serious riff merchants.

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[blindrapture]

It has apparently been long enough now that I can revisit The Parallax and enjoy it wholeheartedly again.

This is normally the one BtBaM album that I’m divided on, as it’s hard for me to synchronize the tone of the music with the tone of the plot-- and even then, the plot requires quite a lot of context to even get to (two tracks from their second album, one track from their fourth album, two tracks from their fifth album, and then the entire Parallax EP all come together just to give the premise to this album). But it’s been nearly ten years now, I have this album memorized like the damn back of my hand, I have a lot of other musical experience behind me, and I am no longer a traumatized teenager.

So. How do I get into The Parallax II: Future Sequence? I treat it like frantic jazz. Every note contributes to a riff or a motif, every riff contributes to a greater rhythm, every greater rhythm and motif contributes to a Moment, every Moment contributes to a Song, some Songs contribute to sequences (ex: “Astral Body” and “Lay Your Ghosts to Rest” form a 15-minute unit which corresponds with “Silent Flight Parliament” at the other end of the album), and all of this makes the album a cohesive piece. This is the same with basically any album, and definitely any BtBaM album. Just.. the style here is frantic jazz, rendered with heavy metal instruments and growling vocals, performing an opera. Coming into this album expecting a familiar aesthetic is tricky, as this album creates its own aesthetic, and.. I’m repeating myself but “frantic” really sums it up best I can.

Furthermore, this “frantic” aesthetic somehow manages to colour the plot. Prospect #2, the main protagonist, has torn his mind apart with the god complex he got from his mission in the EP (to plant new life across the universe). Isolation in his spaceship has incubated this into a legitimate confusion between dream and reality, and the gods themselves have complicated matters by compromising his life in just the right ways to encourage a profound destructive tendency in him. He projects his astral body into space and hears his hands talk to him. His ship contains instructions to fuck with the gravitational orbits of meteors. His home planet is gone, along with the life he had to leave behind. He keeps dreaming of someone who looks exactly like him, and he knows exactly where to find him. Prospect #1, more of a deuteragonist in this opera, is that identical twin. He formerly had some sort of profession feeding lies to people on TV, a job he found so little joy in that he cast his life away by swimming out into the deep ocean. Somewhere along the lines, after a three-day emotional breakdown at sea, he was taken across the universe by the gods just to fuck with him and wound up stranded on an island where he was finally rescued. But this poor fuck, he’s on the wrong planet and doesn’t even know it; there’s no life for him here, and this civilization is still building massive structures from nothing. This world is frantic and hideous and he’s scared. And he keeps dreaming of someone who looks exactly like him, someone who’s coming for him. Prospect 1 has more of a passive role here, as he just wants to find a way to enjoy his new life, but his mirror twin, his mad god from the stars, has had it with humanity and has a mad plan to destroy it. And also, the real gods are owls.

(I did not mention Prospect 2′s wife, nor the Black Mask. That’s another tragedy in itself. Prospect 2 had to go out into space to plant new life as his old planet was dying, and the owls the government insisted he had to leave without telling his wife. He couldn’t go through with that, so he left a note for her explaining his situation before he left. The government was serious, though, so they hired a remorseless assassin to steal the letter and destroy it. What happens to both characters is covered in Future Sequence.)

See, like. ...frankly, that whole plot is awesome??? That’s one of the best damn plots I’ve ever seen to a music album??? But the music itself doesn’t necessarily sound like the “coolest” way to express it. The plot is not covered straightforwardly, the songs rarely stick around in one mood and let it establish some kind of tone. But. But the music sure as hell does do something. It gives that frantic undercurrent, and the plot lines intertwine concurrently to give this impression that the music is trying to tell two stories at the same time, two identical voices trying to express themselves, unable to be contained by the music. I would call this a maximalist metal album, and taken on its own merits, it’s gripping as fuck. It’s metal with xylophones, saxophones, a string quartet, a tuba, and animal noises, and it’s not even clear when most of those instruments are present; they contribute to an undercurrent, like some kind of sub-texture. It’s goddamn jazz.

This is not exactly my favourite Between the Buried and Me album, not even my favourite rock opera of theirs (that’s Automata, on both counts). But it is possibly their most iconic, the most.. blatantly... them. Listening to this album is a fever dream filled with fucking awesome riffs and a showmanship that comes across even without seeing their live performance. (Spoilers: They perform their songs live flawlessly.)

I’ve heard it said that BtBaM is like a fine wine. As much as I feel the two have nothing in common, I.. can still see what that means. And I feel no shame in gushing about them.

Eyes open to the sound of laughter Like a mighty god casting his spells on the world below The man is me

[verus-veritas]

Collan's Caption This Catch Up

I was obsessed with Cullen McCathers. Coming to live in a college dorm after years of a hermit-like high school existence was culture shock. Back home I was the weird, skinny nerd, the token gay social outcast who did his best to avoid the rest of the small-minded, small town denizens who were all too willing torment the obvious outsider given the slightest opportunity, never mind that I had been born there just like the rest of them. So I had made sure the opportunities they got were few and far between, and I had assumed I would continue staying out of the way in college. Keeping my head down was a winning strategy. Why mess with success? What I hadn't counted on was the reality of being forced to live cheek-by-jowl with a seeming unending parade of ideal male bodies. Within the first hour I was overwhelmed by them. On the paths of the campus they walked, in the lounges of the dorm they casually relaxed, in the halls they fist bumped with their bros, and one in particular even invaded my room. I had requested a single room and had thought it had gotten approved, but in typical bureaucratic fashion I showed up on the first day of Freshman orientation to find someone already occupying an obvious double room. I had a roommate. Cullen McCathers. From that very first day, I discovered that even though he spoke to me in a friendly enough fashion and I apparently responded appropriately to the conversation, none of it really registered. He remained a remote and unattainable object despite our sharing a living space, because my thoughts, my gaze, the core of my very being seemed to be pulled into his orbit on a visceral level. He was muscled and toned like a fitness model, and he had a strong face that lit up when he smiled. His voice was sexy, his eyes were sexy, his walk was sexy. His scent, whenever I managed to get a whiff of it, drove me wild with desire, and after watching him unself-consciously change in our room to go take a shower, I knew he was hung so big that I wondered how he dealt with all of that meat in his crotch on a daily basis.

Within a day my universe shifted, and he became its center. He filled my waking fantasies and starred in my nightly dreams.

I was obsessed with Cullen McCathers. ***********

I guess my capability for intense mental concentration and focus, coupled with the depth of my obsession helped trigger the beginning of it. Each night I would think of Cullen as I drifted off to sleep, going over in detail the fragments of him I had collected in my mind that day, cherishing the nape of his neck, the swell of his bicep, the revelation of his tongue darting out to moisten dry lips. I yearned for him and cast myself towards him with wild abandon in my head. And then one night a couple of weeks into the semester, I felt myself drift off to sleep as usual with thoughts of Cullen filling my head, like the proverbial visions of sugarplums, but instead of my consciousness slipping away until morning, it slipped sideways instead and I found myself hovering just off the floor next to Cullen's sleeping body. I looked across the room towards my bed, if what I did can be called looking, seeing as I was a bodiless consciousness, and I saw my own body just where I would have expected to see it, lying and breathing gently in slumber. I was surprisingly unconcerned with what was undoubtedly a highly unusual occurrence. Instead, I was fascinated by what was happening and started to examine my disembodied self. I seemed to perceive some sort of silvery cord leading back to my body, and a scrap of information surfaced from my endless eclectic reading over the years. Astral projection. This is what this was. I had written it off as new age crap, but here was proof to me that not only was it not crap, but I had somehow managed to achieve it. I turned back to look at Cullen and saw the same silvery cord stretching out of his body and out through the wall, anchoring his dream self to his physical self as he journeyed through the night. The instant I realized this, my thoughts became action, and I flew out of the room through the wall, following Cullen's silvery cord.

The world blurred by dissolving into formless colors, before brightening and resolving into a daytime city street. Cullen was there, arguing with a police officer, a clown, and a talking cartoon goldfish in a bowl hovering in mid-air. Cullen was dreaming, and I was in his dream. I sensed some sort of change in myself and looked down to see that I had a body again. I walked towards the arguing quartet, but as I did the police officer flew up into the air, the clown popped like a balloon, and the goldfish in the bowl turned into a demonic cheerleader who began to chase a suddenly terrified Cullen down the sidewalk towards me. I was enraged that anything would dare to try and hurt Cullen, so I grabbed a parking meter out of the sidewalk and stabbed the cheerleader through the chest with it. She dropped to the ground instantly and vanished. "Oh, man! I thought I was dead for sure! You saved my life! Thank you!" said Cullen and hugged me tight. I went rigid in shock. Cullen had spoken to me, and for the first time it had actually registered as words instead of meaningless gibberish. Cullen had touched me. Cullen had hugged me! For the briefest of moments Cullen's dream world had become real to me, and the combination of his speaking to me, touching me, and hugging me threw me into such turmoil that between one instant and the next I was suddenly waking up in my bed in my darkened dorm room, gasping for air and shaking in reaction. I was obsessed with Cullen McCathers. ***********

To say that my obsession with Cullen deepened from that point on would be a gross understatement. Now that I knew I could spend all of my sleeping time with Cullen, I began to do so on a regular basis. He had starred in my dreams and now I began to star in his, sleep-stalking him every night. In his dreams, I found I could actually talk with him in a way that I was completely unable to in the waking world. Admittedly, most of the conversations were variations of his thanking me for one rescue or another since I became his dream protector and hero, saving him from countless monsters, demons, witches, aliens, and bad guys who were gunning for him because someone had framed him for a murder he didn't commit. After that first dream hug, I did everything I could to initiate physical contact between us during our nightly escapades, an arm casually draped over his shoulder, a hand gently tousling his hair, countless little touches, smiles, looks into his eyes. In the waking world, he grew more open and friendly towards me, looking at me more, smiling at me more, continuing to try and engage me in conversation despite the fact that I continued to blank it all out and watch our interactions as an observer, rather than as the active participant I was when we dreamed together.

It also dawned on me that there was a sexual tension between us that hadn't existed before. I was still jacking off to mental images of him every chance I got, but I realized he was spending more and more time wearing less and less when we were alone together in our room. He had never been shy about displaying his body, but as the days went by he went from t-shirts to muscle shirts to tank tops to bare torso, and from sweats to shorts to briefs to nothing at all. I exerted every ounce of my self control to not stare at the obvious things and be as casual and nonchalant about it as he seemed to be. The weeks passed, and the days grew shorter as fall progressed towards winter. I welcomed the turning of the seasons, because longer nights meant more time to sleep and dream with Cullen. Things might have continued on this way, but one evening in early November I went to sleep and slid sideways out of my body to find I wasn't alone in the room. There was another presence like myself, hovering just off the floor next to my bed as I was hovering next to Cullen's. It was another waking dreamer, I knew, and as I looked more closely I realized its silvery cord led straight to Cullen's sleeping body!

"Now it all makes sense," came Cullen's voice in my mind. "This is what you do. This is how you're always in my dreams." "Yes," I replied. "It happened first spontaneously, but it quickly became directed. I'm sorry. I can't seem to help myself where you're concerned." "You love me, don't you?" he asked. "Yes," I admitted sadly, thinking that this was probably going to be some sort of ending. "I've been obsessed with you from the first day. Love followed quickly once I started to get to know you through your dreams. I can't seem to talk to you when I'm awake. I think the reality of you is too much for me to take after a lifetime of isolation, but all I want is to be with you, in all ways, always and forever, to love and protect you, to be one with you. I'm sorry." "Why are you sorry? Can't you tell I feel the same way? Ever since you invaded my dreams and started saving me, I've become obsessed with you too. I go to sleep each night, knowing that you'll be there to keep me safe, even though you can't say so during the day. I could tell the feeling was there somehow, that we were connected on a deeper level. I've been longing to meet you on that deeper level, and now, suddenly, here we are." "You love me too?" I asked incredulously. "Yes," he said simply, and even though he had no body at the moment to express it, I felt the warmth of his smile on me anyway. I moved towards his warmth, and he moved towards me. We met in the center of our dorm room, still hovering just off the floor, and with no transition our bodiless bodies merged into a single being with two silvery tethers anchored at opposite sides of the room. There are no words to describe the unity we experienced in that moment. Pile every description imaginable of physical and emotional intimacy on top of each other, squeeze them all together, multiply all of that by any impossibly large number you can think of, then magnify it all again by an equally impossibly large number and you still won't approach it. Neither of us were prepared for it, and like the first time Cullen had hugged me, I found myself suddenly abruptly awake in my body in my bed. The only difference was that this time, Cullen was awake too. He launched himself, naked and erect, out of his bed and across the room to mine. I had thrown my blanket off, and his beautiful bare body landed on top of me, his mouth seeking mine to devour me. His gigantic cock leaked onto my stomach as he ground his crotch into mine, only my briefs separating us. He moaned his frustration into my mouth as we kissed, then he sat up and back, reached down, grabbed the opening in the front of my briefs, and with a grunt, ripped them open and yanked the remains out from under me, leaving me as naked as he was.

He laid himself fully down on top of me again and our legs intertwined. He kissed me again, and we were touching all along the length of our bodies, from feet to crotch to mouth. His cock ground down into me and my hips pushed myself in turn up into him, trying to somehow physically force our bodies to merge as our essences had in the moment before we awoke. Given our frenzy, we didn't last very long, and we shot together allowing at least part of our physical selves to merge into one as we mixed our cum together between our heaving bodies. As amazing as the orgasm had been, as amazing as it was that I now knew this beautiful body on top of me held a soul that loved me in a way that I had never felt before, my eyes started to fill and tears began to drip down my cheeks with sadness, because I knew that I would never be able to experience in the waking world the unity we had shared as we slept. I looked up at Cullen, and saw tears to mirror my own. I was with Cullen McCathers. ***********

I'm not entirely sure how we got through the next few weeks. We somehow got through classes and kept up some semblance of normalcy during the day, but it all seemed remote and unreal, because at night we left our bodies behind and merged together until dawn. After a while, it became harder to determine where I ended and he began. Our body language, speech patterns, and ways of thinking became similar to the point that at times it felt like we were one person living in two bodies. Thanksgiving approached, and with it the inevitable family obligations. We had become so detached from life outside school and each other that it was almost a surprise when it was time to part and we realized we should have made plans to avoid the separation. There was no help for it, though, so off we both dutifully went, to our individual destinations. Wednesday night was misery. I was back in the place I had grown up, that I hated and that hated me. I went to bed early, eager to experience the all-consuming love that I had discovered with Cullen, only to discover that I was unable to reach him fully. We had a vague sense of each other across the distance, but we couldn't seem to connect. I spent the night lonely and aching in my heart. Thursday was just as bad, spending Thanksgiving Day with my perpetually distant parents. It made no sense to me that they would want me here today after years of not really caring whether I was around or not. I had someone now who wanted me and I wasn't with him. The night was another one of yearning and a futile struggle to connect with Cullen in our dreams. Friday the separation became actual pain. My head hurt, my heart hurt, my body and soul ached to be with Cullen. I begged off the Black Friday shopping trip, knowing I would not be able to bear the long drive to the nearest town that was large enough to have decent places to pointlessly spend money on meaningless gifts. My parents drove off and I went back to my old room and flopped on the bed. After the last two frustrating nights I was feeling defeated and depressed, and I began to resign myself to not being with Cullen again until Sunday. I eventually felt myself drifting off to sleep, only this time, for the first time in months, I actually slept and dreamed. Except it wasn't a dream, it was a horrific nightmare, the details of which I didn't remember upon my panicked awakening except for the sensations of terror and profound loss. I curled up on my side, hugged my pillow, and sobbed uncontrollably at the feeling that if I didn't do something drastic, I would somehow lose the connection Cullen and I had found. I couldn't let it slip away, to become just me again instead of the unity of us. I had slept longer than I had expected to and it was already late afternoon. Knowing my mom, my parents wouldn't be back from the shopping frenzy until late so I had hours left to be undisturbed. Dropping off to sleep had almost become second nature to me, so it was easy for me to roll over and take back control of my unconsciousness. One thought was uppermost in my mind. I had to reach Cullen, no matter what. My eyes closed, my breathing deepened, and unlike earlier in the day, I slipped sideways out of my body as I fell asleep. This time I had a new determination and started to fly across the miles to my obvious starting point in my search for Cullen – the room that we shared. I felt pulled tight across the distance from my body, but I held on to where I was through the familiarity of the location. Uncertain what to do next, I hovered once again in the place that was ours, where I could feel him all around me even without his being there. I knew my sense of time was distorted when I noticed it was dark outside. I had been here simply contemplating Cullen, and hours had drifted by without my realizing. I began to notice, too, that my sense of him was growing stronger rapidly. My excitement and longing for him grew with each passing moment until the door opened, and there he was. I could tell he was as angry and frustrated as I had been. I moved to surround him and comfort him, but he couldn't feel me there. He sat on his bed for a little, but his tension didn't seem to be allowing him to relax. He turned to his travel bag and pulled out a bottle of wine, opened it, and drank some straight from the bottle, then went and sat on *my* bed and put his face into my pillow, breathing in deeply through his nose. He hugged the pillow to his chest and a tear dripped down his cheek. After a bit, he got up, tossed my pillow back on my bed, grabbed the bottle and headed out the door. I followed wondering where he was going. His goal turned out to be the top floor lounge at the back of the dorm, where very few people bothered to go. It was deserted, since it was the Friday evening after Thanksgiving. Cullen drank some more wine and gradually seemed to relax. By the time the bottle was empty, he had propped himself up across a couple of chairs and was staring blankly at the wall. Bit by bit his eyes closed, and then there he was, slipping sideways out of his body to join me. "You're here!" he said with surprise. "I've been waiting for you. I pushed and pushed to get here across the distance. I wasn't sure where I was going to go from here. The distance is difficult, but you came back, and you're here, and now we can be together again." And just like that we were. We were one again and our joy was endless. The unity of ourselves into a single being was a miracle, and all the sweeter for having been denied it the last two days. The only things that marred our joining were the silvery cords heading off to different places, Cullen's to his body in the chairs just next to us, and mine to my far away self. We were one. We needed to be one. All other parts of us were one. The cords needed to be one too. We were tugging on my silvery cord in an attempt to push it into his, when suddenly there was a sensation of severing, and an unattached tendril reeled in from a distance, flailed around as if seeking purchase, then laid itself down over Cullen's cord and into his body. ***********

We awoke with a start, disoriented from being in an unaccustomed place, uncomfortable from having fallen asleep on the chairs, and still drunk from the wine. We felt such an overwhelming feeling of happiness and well-being that we wished we could tell someone, but we knew no one would ever really understand. As I stumbled back to my room, I knew that the other bed would be remaining empty, but that was ok. I was with my love and I was within my love. We were one person forever. I was one person with no further need for two bodies. I undressed for bed and looked down at my body as usual and for the first time, happy with what I saw. I was masculine and strong in my body. I was loved and protected in my soul. I was Cullen McCathers.

Source: “Collan's Caption This Catch Up (10th May)”

[vannahfanfics]

One for the Memories

Category: Friendship Fluff, Comedy, Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Characters: Lucy Heartfilia, Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser, and Lyon Vastia

Requested By: Ella (Ao3)

To be honest, Lucy was quite unsure what to think as she stood beside Gray and Juvia in the secluded office where the Master had requested to speak privately with them. It wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary if it were Natsu and Gray, maybe Erza too, considering how destructive the lot of them were and Lucy usually normally ended up being dragged into the scolding after their latest escapade, but she had to admit that the ice mage and the water mage were an odd pair. The two of them seemed not to have the same considerations; Juvia was purring with delight as she hung on the muscle of Gray’s upper arm and whispering sweet nothings with the occasional intense glare in Lucy’s direction, while the object of her affections was attempting to pry her cheek from his arm and grimacing in embarrassment. When the Master appeared with a slight cough, the attention of the three was captured, eager to learn what the old man had summoned them together for.

“A very nice opportunity for the guild has presented itself. The nationally-renowned Sorcerer Magazine has requested a photoshoot of the three of you that will be the main feature of the next issue,” he explained, and Lucy’s eyes widened in shock. Model-quality beauties like Mirajane were featured in the magazine quite often, but this was the first time Lucy had been afforded the opportunity; for a brief second she swelled with pride with the thought of It’s about time! before her heart slammed into her ribcage as it came to a screeching halt; Lucy had never modeled before, and that unnerved her. Juvia and Gray seemed unperturbed; Gray was his usual indifferent self, even deigning to groan about what a useless venture it was, while Juvia squealed and hearts beat in her eyes at the thought of being in a photoshoot with her darling ice mage. When she realized that Lucy was also to be featured though, she peered around his front with a low grumble.

“Stay away from my darling Gray, love rival.” Lucy had gotten quite used to Juvia’s accusations and her teeter-totter attitude; when it came down to it, Juvia would back her up in tough situations, and that’s all that mattered. Still, it was a bit tiring to constantly be accused of harboring feelings for the man when she had nothing of the sort.

“You don’t have to tell me twice, Juvia.”

“What?! How dare you insult Gray! Take it back!” Lucy just rolled her eyes as steam poured from the water-woman’s ears, and focused on what the hell she was going to do about the modeling shoot.

They met the photographer the next day at the train station. They had been informed that a member from another guild would be also part of the modeling shoot, and while Gray ran around with a lovestruck Juvia chasing him around in circles leaving little hearts in her wake, Lucy wondered who it could be. There were a number of heartthrobs, both male and female, in the guild world, many of whom she had met during the Grand Magic Games just a few weeks before. As her mind flew through the many possibilities, she did not notice the train arrive and the last member of their quartet arrive until the photographer gleefully shouted, “Cool, cool, now everyone is here!”

“What?!” Gray and the newly-arrived Lyon shouted in unison and pointed at each other with the color draining from their faces. Gray continued to stare with his mouth agape and eye twitching, while his rival in ice magic quickly regained his composure and sidled over to Juvia with ice swirling in his hand to form a fluttering dove.

“My darling Juvia, how lovely it is to see you again~”

“Ugh, I’m going to spend all day trapped in some twisted love triangle,” Lucy muttered under her breath as Juvia proceeded to jump behind Gray and peer at Lyon with waves of refusal rolling off her; Lyon deflated with a defeated sigh, the dove fluttering off as if it did not witness the crushing rejection before dissolving into sparkling ice. The photographer was blissfully unaware of the love being thrown around the train station; with another gleeful, “Cool, cool!” he jumped between the troop of wizards and announced that they would soon board the train for their photoshoot destination.

Once they were settled into their booth and trying to ignore the messy love tangle that was still unfolding around her, Lucy decided to approach the photographer with the questions that had been burning on her tongue all the while.

“Where will the photoshoot be held?”

“Oh, yes, yes! We’ll be visiting a town nearby called Crystalwake! It’s one of the most famous vacation spots in the entire country, known for its crystalline shores and crystal-clear waters!” he announced with almost too much enthusiasm. Lucy couldn’t help but mirror it, clasping her hands together with an excited squeal while her brown eyes sparkled like the diamond lights playing across the famous waters of the aforementioned beach town.

“Really?! Crystalwake? Oh, I’ve always wanted to go there!” she trilled as she squirmed excitedly in her seat, a scowl gradually deepening on both Gray and Juvia’s faces as her body rubbed up against his. She distinctly heard Gray mumble, “What’s the big deal?” while Lyon was once again trying to shoot his shot at Juvia and falling utterly short. The venue had been featured multiple times across many magazines in all sorts of contexts, and Lucy thought it was simply the perfect spot for a photoshoot because it was so incredibly romantic. Once that word sprouted in her brain, however, her blissful train of thought came to a screeching halt in its tracks and she looked at the photographer with acute confusion and a slightly perceptible level of fear. “Wait, what kind of photoshoot is this?”

“I am so glad you asked! Last issue, Sorcerer Magazine polled its readers concerning their favorite couples or potential couples within Fairy Tail with the caveat that they would be featured in a special photoshoot, and there were two that were overwhelmingly popular!” Instantly, Lucy was even more perplexed; people pinning Gray and Juvia as a couple wasn’t exactly surprising, but the fact that people could see her with Lyon, whom she had only had limited contact with, was quite exceptional. She would have thought for sure that she would be paired with Natsu, her actual team partner! “The top votes were Lucy and Gray, and Lyon and Juvia!” If her train of thought had come to a screeching halt before, it totally derailed this time. The entire train car became a symphony of their deranged screeches of disbelief; the mildly puzzled photographer just sat there blinking with the smile still on his lips as they all jumped to their feet and began screaming together in one frightening harmony.

“What? There’s no way that I can let my love rival be in a photoshoot with my Gray! Cancel it! And I want to know what crazy people even consider Lucy and Gray a couple!” Juvia shrieked, actually becoming fluid around the edges as she worked herself up to a near-boiling point.

“Juvia’s right! There must be some mistake! Me and Gray? I mean, who would think that up?” Lucy cried, mostly out of fear of retaliation if she expressed the fact that she was actually relieved to be paired with the ice mage that she actually knew.

“What the hell does that mean, Lucy?” Gray frowned and leaned down over her to peer into her face with his eyebrows narrowed accusingly. Lucy flushed red, both out of his proximity and the fact that she had upset him with her hasty comment.

“I-I mean, of course I like you, Gray-“

“Love rival!” Juvia shrieked, her curling blue hair nearly whipping about like snakes as she dissolved further into fluid form, and the Celestial wizard hurriedly whipped around to laugh nervously and wave her hands in a dismissive gesture.  

“No, Juvia, that isn’t what I meant-“

“So you do want to do a photoshoot with me?” Gray asked with a devilish grin and his chin tilted up in a challenging gesture. Lucy deflated like a balloon as she took the assault on two sides. This is turning out to be a much bigger pain than I thought!

“I get to be in a photoshoot with Juvia! <3” Lyon howled as he clapped his hands giddily together, obviously the only one happy with the way that things had turned out. The photographer somehow managed to convince the fiery water wizard that the pairing would have to stay so as not to disappoint the readers, but it had been Gray quipping that Juvia needed to make her fans happy to finally get her to agree with the fact; still, the entire train ride to the beach, she was obviously seething with displeasure beside Lyon, who was giving off a bright aura of one who had achieved enlightenment and ascended to the astral plane.

Needless to say, Lucy’s head was hammering with headache by the time they stepped off the train.

Despite the twist of events, Lucy could not help but be cheered by the vacation spot’s atmosphere. The train station was open to the elements, allowing the salty breeze to waft in and kiss the soft skin of her bare arms and legs and leave and aftertaste on her lips as she strolled with the photoshoot party across the wooden planks that made up the boardwalk-like structure. The roof was simply a cloth pavilion made of thick fabric that flapped in the ever-present winds rolling off the waves she could hear crashing in the near distance. As they walked out from beneath the shade, the sun was there to greet her, offering her an embrace of its warm rays. Her headache was all but erased as she ran down the boardwalk to behold the famous shore, and as she leaned over the wooden railings with a hand to her eyes to take in the majesty of the beach, no magazine picture could have ever prepared her for its brilliance. It took her breath away.

The white sands stretched on in either direction for miles and miles, each individual grain sparkling like a shard of crystal as the sun’s bright rays struck its prism-like surface. The water was a shimmering cerulean, fading into sapphire as the depth increased towards the horizon; above the gently lapping waves, the sky was cloudless and brilliantly blue, the sun hovering at its highest point to bathe the beachgoers in its tanning streams. Gray and Lyon even seemed captivated by its majesty, and Juvia was able to forgo her ire to stand beside Lucy with her breath caught in her throat and her eyes drinking in every detail, watching the sailboats stream across the water leaving frothing wake behind. It’s so beautiful…

The photographer wasted no time in preparing them for the shoot. Soon after arriving, Lucy was standing with her toes in the surprisingly soft sand clad in a white bikini patterned with golden stars and a crescent moon curling across the left side of her chest, as an ode to her Celestial magic. Lyon and Gray were both in swim trunks that were inversions of each other, two-toned blues, while Juvia wore a stylish one-piece of misty blue-white with plunging sides filled in with tied strings and wave-like patterns trawling across the front. They were quite a tastefully clothed bunch, and though a large section of the beach had been partitioned off for the photoshoot, they were still attracting a large amount of attention from passersby. Lucy wanted to bask in the praise, maybe strike a suave pose or two, but her mind had returned to the fact that she had never done anything to the sort and worrying over that fact. She wanted to look beautiful, not like an awkward fool, after all. She silently fretted as the photographer began to give directions.

“All right! First, we’ll shoot some scenes in the water. We’ll start with Lucy and Gray. Will you two go about knee-deep in the water, please?”

“This is a pain,” Gray grunted as he accompanied Lucy out into the surf. She wasn’t sure why, because she was painfully used to seeing Gray half-naked running around in his boxers at this point, but her eyes navigated to his sculpted abs and his defined arm muscles; her words became a hard lump in her throat, preventing her from replying. It was undeniable that Gray was an eye-catching guy; how had she not noticed before now? He definitely noticed her lack of response and looked at her with a frown, making her jump violently and send water droplets skittering about as she reflexively slapped her hands against the water. “You’re acting weird.”

“Am not!” she refuted with red cheeks, which didn’t really make her argument all that strong. She blushed darker as he went to get in her face again, but thankfully that was interrupted by the photographer.

“Okay, cool, cool, that’s a good distance!” Lucy crossed her arms uncomfortably and turned away from Gray, but she didn’t want to necessarily look at the shore either because Juvia was currently trying to melt Lucy with her mere eyeballs. She focused instead at the water swirling around her upper calves; she could see straight through to the bottom like she was staring at liquid glass. Some seashells were half-buried in the sand around her, scallops and cats’ eyes and swirling drills and murexes; one of them was currently occupied by a little hermit crab who was doing his best to scuttle against the current. “A-ha! I’ve got it! Gray, take Lucy in your arms!”

“What?” Lucy gasped and looked at him incredulously, then screamed as her feet were suddenly swept out from under her. Within an instant she was being held securely in Gray’s arms; he looked blankly at the photographer.

“Like this?”

“Perfect! Cool, cool! Now, Lucy, put your arms around his neck.” Uncertainly, Lucy circled his neck with her arms, feeling highly uncomfortable with the entire thing. I probably look like an idiot… she lamented silently as she felt her face burning, but tried to convince herself it was the intensity of the sun’s rays. “Great! Now, try to seem like a loving couple, please~” he twittered like a gull as he flapped about on the shoreline, the shutter of his camera already clicking wildly. Gray turned his pointed gaze on her, a hint of a smile on his lips and all manner of sexy; Lucy was highly certain she looked like a fish gasping for breath. “Lucy, dear, please try to look a little more relaxed!”

“Easier said than done,” she huffed, not realizing she had done so out loud.

“Come on, Lucy, lighten up. You said you wanted to come to this place, right? Forget about the camera and just pretend we’re having fun,” he smiled at her. Lucy puffed out her cheeks defiantly at him, but honestly forgot the camera in that instant because she was too focused on refuting him.

“Come on, Gray! I’m not Mirajane! This stuff doesn’t just come naturally to me!”

“Why not? You’re as beautiful as Mirajane.” Lucy’s previously derailed train of thought shot off into the sky, breaking through the atmosphere at the words that had just so easily slipped from Gray’s lips. He was smirking up at her, but she could not tell if he was serious or teasing; all the same, she could not keep the blissful smile from gracing her own mouth.

“You mean that?” The photographer’s cheers of “Cool, cool!” were lost on her as she bathed in the sun and Gray’s compliment. He nodded, and she could feel his fingers twirling through her long tresses of blonde hair, which she had decided to let fly free for the modeling gig. Lucy’s smile grew bright enough to rival the sun above, and the hint of pink that graced her cheeks was now a tint of joy. “Thanks, Gray.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he suddenly grinned wildly, and her scream was swallowed by the seawater as he abruptly dunked her into the ocean. She landed on her butt against the bottom, startling the hermit crab and sending him feverishly scurrying out towards deeper, safer water; as the current swirled in her ears, she could faintly hear Gray’s raucous howls of laughter. She came up spitting the foul salt water and glaring at him through stinging red eyes. “You should have seen the look on your face!” he cackled while holding his belly.

“You jerk!” she shouted and jumped up to push him roughly in his chest. She successfully disbalanced him and sent him down in a similar fashion; water streamed through his dark hair as he came up coughing, but before he could launch another attack on her, she splashed him in the face and started scampering back to shore.

“Come back here! I’m not through with you!” he growled and yanked her back by the ankle. She belly-flopped into the surf with a surprised yelp, and was dragged across the bottom before she was pulled up so Gray could put her in a headlock and started roughly ruffling her hair.

“Ow! Ow! Gray!” she cried, but the laughter made its way into her voice. Her limbs flapped about wildly as she tried to escape his grasp, and managed to loosen it just enough to turn around in his grip to start beating him in the side of the head. In that effort, though, they became disbalanced together and she ended up on top of him, legs on either side of his waist with his hands wrapped around her waist, water streaming off their bodies like one hundred waterfalls.

“Perfect! Cool, cool! You two are naturals!” the photographer was screeching in near mania, the shutter clicking as fast as his finger would allow without falling off. Lucy was panting with exertion as she sat atop Gray, and when she finally realized what she was doing and how borderline erotic of a position she was in, she squeaked and hastily scrambled off him. It was too late, though; she had already earned Juvia’s wrath, and no sooner than the water mage had stomped into the surf Lucy was blasted with a torrent of swirling water that sent her screeching into the deep blue. She came up several yards out, her hair plastered to her face and soaked from head to toe.

“Take that, love rival!”

Sighing in resignation, Lucy paddled back to the point to where she could walk and began waded back through the surf. Gray came to the edge of the sandbar to help her, which the photographer eagerly recorded much to Juvia’s disappointment; as Lucy reached out to take his hand she stumbled in the thick, mud-like sand and instinctively looked down, and came upon the terrifying realization that by some bizarre incidence Gray had lost his shorts. She screamed and snapped her hands to her eyes, seeing far too much by the grace of the famous crystalline water, while Gray freaked out and began looking around for his swim trunks and a very unamused photographer informed him that this was not that kind of photoshoot. Juvia had fainted and Lyon was trying to revive her with far too much joy at having the unconscious woman in his arms.

After Gray found his shorts it was time for Juvia and Lyon’s shoot, which mainly consisted of Lyon chasing a very unwilling Juvia through the surf that ironically looked like they were playing a consensual game of tag. After several more rounds of general poses and acts, it came time for the final photoset of Gray and Lucy’s. By then her mind had eased and she was putting little thought into how she looked; Gray had done a good job of boosting her confidence. This time they were directed to a setup of props- two towels that matched their outfits beneath a shady umbrella, with all the beachgoing amenities scattered about. They took a few benign ones at first, like on of Lucy on her belly with her legs pulled up and ankles crossed while she read a book, one of Gray staring out at the ocean waves with a popsicle hanging out of his mouth, one that the photographer happened to catch by chance when it fell out of his mouth into his lap and made Lucy laugh like a maniac next to him. Gray was still shaking the icy-cold popsicle drops off his legs when the photographer informed them that it was time to resume the couple act- and that’s how Lucy ended up underneath Gray, nose-to-nose and trying not to freak out. She could hear Lyon struggling to hold Juvia back from killing the photographer, but the Lucy was fixated on the man looming over her.

“Well, this is cozy,” he joked effortlessly, like he was unperturbed.

“Gray, how can you be so calm about this? People are going to see these photos, you know.” Though she was fine with the actual modeling now, it was still a little weird to be featured as one half of an item.

“Yeah, and? People are gonna talk regardless. Might as well give ‘em something to talk about.” Lucy rolled her eyes; he was much to dense to get it, apparently. Lucy had no care to be the topic of gossip, at least not in the sense that she was Gray’s potential lover. Gray shifted above her, and she sat up a little to help him get comfortable. She went suddenly stiff as he accidentally caught his finger in the loop of her bikini and nearly pulled the thing off, and she hastily flopped back against the towel as the flimsy fabric barely covered her modesty. It was only at this point that Gray blushed and sheepishly smiled, which totally would make it look like they were about to be getting up to some very naughty things in the photograph. Lucy’s face was afire and her eyes wide, which didn’t help the image. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Like hell you didn’t. You’re just teasing me at this point!” she accused. He ran a hand through his hair with a dour expression, and Lucy heard the shutter clicking frantically. We’re gonna be the talk of the whole country for years after this, she thought with a groan.

“Lucy, come on, I- oh shit!” As he was once again trying to shift on top of her, his hand slipped in the loose sand and he completely lost his leverage. The breath was knocked from Lucy’s body as he landed on top of her, which was a bad enough image in itself, but the divinities were seemingly having a ball at Lucy’s expense; Gray’s mouth landed right against hers; there was no mistaking the feeling of his lips. Worse, she had somehow grabbed the back of his head as he fell, making it look all the more convincing. Gray and I are-!

“Wow! You guys sure do take this seriously, going so far for the fans! This’ll be a great piece!” the photographer sighed dreamily. It was overtaken by Juvia’s deranged screeching.

“Love rival love rival love rival-!”

“Juvia, will you let me kiss you? Just for the shoot, of course,” Lyon crooned as he wiggled up to Juvia, but the water mage was in no mood to entertain; his wails were lost in the rushing of water as she sent him spiraling down the beach. He landed face-first and butt in the air, and when he came up he was spitting the fine grains out of his mouth and looking downright dejected. “Gray gets to kiss Lucy but I don’t get to kiss Juvia,” he moped as he tromped back over to them with slumped shoulders and the sand raining from his spiky hair. By this time, Gray and Lucy had sprung apart and placed several feet between them, both as red as tomatoes and wiping their mouths with the backs of their hands.

~~~~~~~~~~

Needless to say, that little photograph made the front page.

Lucy ducked out of the guild after a raucous round of teasing, clutching the copy of the magazine to her chest. Though it featured the embarrassing array of her and Gray’s spicy photos together, it was still her one and only modeling gig, and despite the context she was quite proud of it and wanted to hang onto a copy as a memento. Plus, looking back on it, she had had a lot of fun with Gray; he had so effortlessly calmed her nerves, and, antics aside, tromping around the beach with him had become a fond memory. Standing outside the guild with the roaring laughter and buzz of conversation fading into the background, she flipped open the magazine to the featurette, all the pictures of their own laughing faces under the blazing sun. While their relationship was not nearly of the nature their fans envisioned, Lucy definitely could admit that it was a good one.

“Bah, you had enough of those guys too?”

The Celestial wizard glanced up when the exact man in the photos beside her slipped out of the guild doors, looking irritated. He actually had his clothes on, with his hands stuffed into his overcoat pockets; his dark eyes were looking down at her, with that same intensity yet softness they always carried. “They were so busy passing it around and making fun of it, I didn’t even get to see the feature. You mind?” Lucy nodded and stepped closer to him, holding out the magazine so that they could both peruse the contents; though he was standing so close that their arms brushed, his breath puffing against her ear as he leaned down over her shoulder, Lucy felt nothing along the sort of nervousness or anxiety. Outside the context of the modeling shoot, gray really was just Gray; personal space really wasn’t a thing between them. That made her smile slightly. “What’s that grin for?”

“I was just thinking that we look pretty good together.”

“Oh, so you’ve finally fallen for my bewitching good looks, have you?” he smirked at her with his hand on his chin, and she laughed loudly. He joined her, and their shoulders shook in unison as they descended into a hysterical fit of snickers and giggles. By the time they settled down, Lucy was holding the magazine against her belly and tears were forming in the corners of her eyes. Gray exhaled deeply as he ran a hand through his midnight-colored hair, smiling in bemusement. “As much as a pain it was, I can’t say that I didn’t have fun. I definitely don’t wanna do it again, though, I’m tired of all the jokes.”

“Well, at least you have the reassurance that if you fail at being a wizard, you’ve got a modeling career ahead of you,” she grinned at him, and because the comment was unwarranted, he pinched her cheek and began tugging on it.

“You’re pretty cheeky tonight, aren’t you?”

“Ow! Gray! Cut it out, I’m sorry!” she whined while trying to swat his hand away. He sniffed in mock disdain before releasing her, and she tenderly rubbed her reddening skin while he grinned in that devilish way of his. “You’re right, though. I’m afraid Juvia’s gonna murder me in my sleep, and all the girls keep pestering me about going on a date with you!” she laughed lightly.

“Yeah, as if. We’ll both end up in a grave for that,” he snorted, then cast his gaze up at the night sky. The clouds were drifting lazily by the full moon and the stars twinkled like the light playing across the waves they had played in. “Still… I wouldn’t mind going back. To Crystalwake, I mean. Under normal circumstances.”

“Yeah. I had a good time. Just no pulling off my bikini top this time. You may like to lose your clothes, but I don’t.”

“Asshole,” he smirked and shoved her in the side of her head. Lucy grabbed her head, but was smiling; she knew that Gray’s gestures and teasing, though rough, were just his way of showing affection. He chortled too, then put his hands behind his head. “So, now I gotta walk you home, right? Isn’t that the rule after you kiss a girl?”

“Technically, you did it wrong. You’re supposed to kiss her on her doorstep,” Lucy quipped as she tucked the magazine into her bag and clasped her hands behind her back, whirling on her heel to skip a few paces down the cobblestoned street. “Still, I guess I’ll cut you some slack and let you walk me home, but don’t try anything funny, mister.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she heard him chuckle behind her, and his boots made light clicking noises as they struck the stone walking after her. Lucy hopped up onto the rock wall overlooking the harbor as she always did, her arms held out on either side of her for balance as she strode along, silhouetted by the starry night and the glittering ocean as Gray walked alongside her.

Crystalwake is beautiful, but I don’t need to go to some fancy beach to have fun with you. She kept that thought to herself, as Gray would likely make some smart-aleck jibe about it. Lucy didn’t know if what she had with Gray would one day develop into anything more or not; she wasn’t really in a state that wondered, either. She was content with their playful friendship for what it was, and that brought her enough joy in itself.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[dawnoftheeighthday]

On The Dawn Of The Eighth Day...

Sunday's trailblazing journey has just begun, and we are but observers to it.

CARRD

This is a charity physical zine dedicated to the concept of Trailblazer Sunday, aka Sunday becoming a permanent member of the Astral Express.

Interest checks + mod applications are now open!

This zine is open to contributors of all experience levels, so feel free to fill it in with that in mind.

Feel free to send in asks if you have any questions and we will get to them as soon as we can!

[burlveneer-music]

Aldorande - s/t LP - 70s-style jazz-funk so on the money I thought at first it must be a reissue

Ready for an adventure running parallel to their lives in common units, the quartet boarded a starship to set off on an astral expedition. The mission began perfectly, according to plan. From the very first measures, the travellers were released from the Earth's gravity. Very quickly, their home planet appeared tiny and distant, before disappearing completely. Comets and novae lit the way through the fathomless depths of interstellar space. Their preliminary, in-depth studies of seventies jazz-funk were a great source of inspiration. Very early on, they knew that this sonic esthetic would allow them to travel even farther, navigating only with organic instruments and no digital backing or enhancements. Commander Virgile Raffaëlli's bass lines guided their journey, offering a calm, yet vibrant foundation for the smoother phases and turning up the power to bring them through turbulence and meteor showers safe and sound. Like a compass, the bass indicated the direction and traced a groove that the loyal, valued crew could follow as their travels continued. Mathieu Edouard's drums solidly locked down the rhythm to avoid any sudden jolts, working in tandem with Erwan Loeffel's jet-propelled percussion. On the keyboards, Florian Pellissier drew harmonies and riffs from the synthesizers and electric pianos to oil the machinery and lighten the load when the ensemble needed to rise a few feet. The crew's almost telepathic cohesion was key to their success, allowing them to express interior emotions with just a few notes. Here is the last transmission we received: "We have landed on an unknown planet and are depressurizing the airlock with help from subtle horns and ethereal choruses so we can discover the new horizon. It definitely meets our expectations! The desert before us holds the promise of new life. The warm yet fresh air is easy to breathe. A vague psychedelic scent floats through the atmosphere, as if ready to spring from the first flower to bloom. Dreamlike, mysterious, enigmatic yet familiar, we will call it Aldorande."

[noloveforned]

tune into wlur at 8pm tonight to hear this week's show live or catch up with last week's show below!

no love for ned on wlur – october 15th, 2021 from 8-10pm

artist // track // album // label the runaways // rock 'n roll // the runaways // mercury rabbit // gone gone gone // gone 7" // rough skies the shadracks // plastic lives // the shadracks // damaged goods upper wilds // love song #3 // venus // thrill jockey cochonne // asking for a friend // emergency ep // sorry state prison affair // encerrado contigo (en la prisión) // split 7" w/ research reactor corp. // under the gun vera ellen // you! // it's your birthday // flying nun honey radar // consult the napkin // split 7" w/ violent change // chunklet fastbacks // another thing coming // now is the time // no threes boyracer // more of you // more of you digital single // shambotic julia shapiro // someone // zorked // suicide squeeze * sault // fear // nine // forever living originals thurston moore featuring bobby gillespie // heroin // i’ll be your mirror- a tribute to the velvet underground and nico // verve * ashley shadow featuring bonnie 'prince' billy // don’t slow me down // only the end // felte * doc watson and gaither carlton // he's coming to us dead // doc watson and gaither carlton // smithsonian folkways mountain man // holy father // made the harbor (deluxe edition) // psychic hotline patrick shiroishi, chris jusell, chaz prymek and matthew sage // suzushii kaze // natsukashii // cached media bevel // strange vessel // angler senses // astral editions luke stewart and jarvis earnshaw quartet // kenopsia // luke stewart and jarvis earnshaw quartet // no quarter phil ranelin // infinite expressions // infinite expressions // org music jim marks // rhythm is accenting time // touch your feelings // Nicole dos santos // city of mirrors // city of mirrors // international anthem bobby valentín // bad breath // it's a good, good feeling- the latin soul of fania records (the singles) compilation // craft samm henshaw // grow // untidy soul // dorm seven snoh aalegra // i didn't mean to fall in love // ugh, those feels again // artium blu // mr. blu(e) // the color blu(e) // dirty science orion sun // concrete // getaway ep // mom + pop pond // toast // nine // spinning top * holy hive // golden crown // holy hive // big crown skirts // dayspell // great big wild oak // double double whammy tears to go // patronizing self-help // patronizing self-help // i need some company josephine network // me and my boys // music is easy // dig! kero kero bonito // fish bowl (frankie cosmos remix) // bonito retakes (remixes) - ep // (self-released)

* denotes music on wlur’s playlist

[stephicness]

How would Ravus meet and fall for a socially awkward s/o? Like they aren't strikingly beautiful or very outgoing and avoid working with public (so they work like in a lab or something) and would most likely be found at home, a library or chilling with the birds at a chocobo ranch? I think he'd go along with an s/o like that pretty well but how would they actually meet and stuff?? Maybe through Luna? Idk man, can you throw ideas at me? Thanks a lot, love your writing! 😉

Hm… Here’s a story for ya, dear anon~ :D Not in exact details, but it was fun to write their first meeting together. Shoot me a message again maybe, and I can write more of these two for you~ Maybe in more headcanons and stuff.

The Date Of Fate That You Can Relate… To – Ravus Nox Fleuret x The Socially-Awkward Cutie

He hated it. Hated thenotion that he had to dress in something so… So casual. Insteadof wearing his white uniform coat, he had to wear a black- dress shirt that wasfar too tight for him that Ignis had to loan to him (which unfortunately nowhad a torn up sleeve that Ignis reluctantly had to ‘gift’ to Ravus instead).Instead of his greaves, he wore black dress pants (again, that were Ignis’s)that felt as if they were threatening to split him in two. And worst of all, totop off his outfit, he had to have this hideous cactuar tie on, because Promptowas insistent that a tie would top off the date night outfit. It was awful,Ravus thought to himself, and he really didn’t want to have to dress this way.

And in public either. He sat there in amidst the diner,fingers tapping slowly against the table as his eyes surveyed the busy diner.For a place in the middle of nowhere, Hammerhead certainly was rather active.But then again, the diner was the only place where any sort of life could stir inthe middle of this dusty Astral-forsaken desert. But of all places to be, hehad to be here. In Hammerhead. Collecting dust as he waited. And waited. And waited.

Perhaps this situation was a mistake, with the othersdeciding to pull this awful antic on him to come out here in such ridiculousattire to spend all night waiting about in this terrible excuse of a restaurant.And for what? A date. Yes, a date. It was a blind set up, and one where Ravushad no real intentions of going to. But it was the guilt card the eventuallygot him to consider. ‘What if they show up and see that you aren’t there?’Ravus was immediately ridden with guilt, for it was too often than he too founddisappointment in his life. But it seemed like now, disappointment was hiscompany rather than theirs.

He let out a sigh, leaning back in his place in the boothas he looked down at the menu. Well… At least he could order something beforehe returned back to the haven. He waved down the waitress, pointing absent-mindedlyat the toast and syrup (Tenebraen toast or something…? He forgot what it wascalled) before he leaned back in his seat with a frown on his face. A wonderful night. Just wonderful…

His eyes wandered up as he felt a pair of eyes hadfixated themselves on him. Just in time to catch them quickly look towards thewindow. Far from subtle, especially as Ravus saw them give a sideward glanceback before they jolted and looked down. Ravus arched an eyebrow as he watchedthem quickly take up the menu and stare down at it. Far too long on the samepage, Ravus observed. But when he noticed that they began to slowly look up atRavus, he finally realized that he too had been staring for too long. Shit. Ravus didn’t have a menu to hidebehind, so he had to improvise by hiding behind his hand as if shielding hisface.

Ravus worked up the courage to glance beyond his hand ashe heard a small laugh come from the person in the booth in front of him,though when he looked, they had hidden away once again. Not for long, itseemed, for a pair of bright eyes slowly began to peek from over the top of themenu again. The two were quiet, staring for a good long moment at each otherbefore they realized just how weird it was to stare at each other. Ravusglanced towards the window and the stranger glanced down at the menu.

“…Is there something on my face?”

“Excuse me?” The stranger looked up from the menu afterthey heard Ravus address them. They certainly weren’t the most extravagant,Ravus thought to himself, and quite frankly, he felt overdressed. And to thinkhe thought of himself as a casual dresser. He had to press his lips together,however, as he noticed the stranger stare for a long moment before their eyeswidened as their hands shot up in a defensive manner. “Oh, no! I was…! I wasjust…!” They had to clear their voice as a crack shot broken through theirwords. “It’s just… You looked really upset, so I was wondering if, um… You wereokay?”

Ravus gave a small nod, a sigh escaping from him as hesat upright in a more proper manner. “I suppose I am well. Just complicationsin my plans.” They gave a small nod, lacing their fingers together to create awall to hide their twiddling thumbs. Ravus tilted his head at them and archedan eyebrow. “And what of you? Do you normally come here alone and stare atpeople as they sulk?”

“O-Oh no! I, um…” They reached up and scratched theircheek with their index finger. “I, um… I was stood up, so here I am.”

“I’m… Sorry to hear that,” Ravus replied. He found hisexpression softening as he watched the stranger hang their head. It wasembarrassing… For the both of them – both stood up tonight. But for somereason, it was a nice thought to know that Ravus wasn’t the only one to feellonely tonight. At least the night was a lot less lonely with the strangerrelating to him in this instance.

He returned back to attention as the waitress returned,setting the toast and syrup down in front of him and walking away. The idea ofhaving to eat alone was odd… Especially when he knew that this stranger in the boothover had the tendency to stare. Perhaps the awkwardness could be alleviated andthe loneliness spared for the night… Ravus hummed to himself before he gesturedto the seat across from him.

“If you like, I can be your date tonight. Consideringthat my plans seemed to have fallen through as well.” Ravus wasn’t expectingthe brightening gaze that spread across the stranger’s face. For a momentthere, it looked as if they were going to cry from his words. Cute… Ravus hadto clear his throat to cease the slight heat that went over his cheeks,watching as their eyes had brightened, but their posture slouched.

“No… It’s fine. I don’t wanna disturb you as you’reeating.”

“You are not disturbing me. I would enjoy some company,in all actuality.” Ravus’s lips curled slightly in a faint smile as he gesturedonce again. “My offer still stands. Perhaps you may take a closer look atmyself, rather than hiding behind your menu and taking a glimpse from afar.”

They found their cheeks flaring with a red color, andthey had to press their hands to their cheeks before they covered their facewith their hands. Perhaps… Ravus shouldn’t have said such a thing. And yet, thesmile that he saw appear from behind their hands caused the commander’s cheeksto redden as well. Well then… Hewatched carefully as they began to collect their things, standing up from theirbooth and going over to the seat across from Ravus. He looked at the personagain, eying the sneakers they wore and the messenger bag that hung from their shoulder.Yes… Ravus was definitelyover-dressed. But nevertheless, he gave a small nod to allow them to sit acrossfrom him. He reached out to them, holding out his hand as Ravus tilted hishead. “My name is Ravus, by the way. Ravus Nox Fleuret.”

They stared at the hand for a moment, adjusting theirglasses before they smiled and took his hand in return.

“Hey~ There’s Rae! You’re back late.” The commanderraised an eyebrow at the quartet of boys as he hiked up the rocks to the haventop. Surprising to see them all still awake, seeing how Ignis was adamant abouthow they were all to sleep by midnight. Yet there they all were, with ratherdumb expressions over their faces as if eager to see Ravus. The commander’seyes narrowed suspiciously before he tossed the cactuar tie over to theblond-haired young man and began to (literally) tear the shirt from himself toredress into something more comfortable. Prompto grinned and looked over hisshoulder to Ravus. “Well? How’d it go?”

“They never arrived, unfortunately.”

A silence settled between all of them before Igniswhispered a bit too loudly. “Did they really desert him…?”

“No. They told me that they were there!” Prompto reachedinto his pocket, pulling out his phone to look down at the text messages. “Yeah.See? Told me that you never showedup.”

“Impossible. I was there. I even ordered the toast andsyrup like you were so adamant in suggesting to me.” Ravus rubbed his shoulderas he detached his Magitek arm. Like a literal weight off his shoulder. “Iwaited there for a good hour until I asked another poor soul to dine with me.Apparently, they too were stood up on their date.” He sighed and walked over tosit with the others, crossing his legs over one another as he propped his headup on his knuckles. “Despite the complications, it was not a terrible evening.”

“So you got another date after your date blew you off?”Noctis couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned back in hisseat. “Man, Ravus. You really know how to charm them.”

The commander grunted in response. “They were pleasant totalk to, we managed to cease the stammering. Remarkably, they were reallyenthusiastic about writing as well, promising to one day show me theirwritings.”

“So like a second date?” Gladio arched an eyebrow atRavus, who merely nodded in response. “Wow… To think a beanpole like you canactually keep a date.”

Ravus scoffed as he shifted in his place to pull out hiscellphone. A few taps on his keyboard, and he tossed his phone to Prompto as herose from his place. “Take a glance if you need proof of my endeavors. I amgoing to retire for the evening now. Good evening, gentleman.” He bowed hishead to them before retreating into the tent.

Not even a second after Prompto had the phone did theothers scurry over to the blond’s side, looking down at the cellphone and the pictureRavus had taken. The person in the image was hiding behind their menu, a brightsmile over their face as the sequence of images showed them trying to hide formthe camera before they had a warm smile in the last image. Prompto tilted hishead before he looked at the others and pointed at the pictures. “Uh… That’sthem. That’s who Ravus was supposed to meet.”

Noctis was a bit quiet as he stared at the pictures, cycling through once, twice, and one more time. “Well… Their smile’s really nice. They gonna be Specs #2 now?”

As the others laughed to thiemselves, Ignis arched an eyebrow, fixing his glasses as he grunteda little bit to himself. “Hm… At least they have great taste in eyewear.”

Gladio scoffed. “Small world though. Kinda sad how dense Ravus was not to know who he was supposed to go on a date with though.”

The others murmured in unison. Well… Whatever made Ravus happy, they guessed.

[blackkudos]

Alice Coltrane

Alice Coltrane (née McLeod, August 27, 1937 – January 12, 2007), also known by her adopted Sanskrit name Turiyasangitananda or Turiya Alice Coltrane, was an American jazz pianist, organist, harpist, singer, composer, swamini, and the second wife of jazz saxophonist and composer John Coltrane. One of the few harpists in the history of jazz, she recorded many albums as a bandleader, beginning in the late 1960s and early 1970s for Impulse! Records and Universal Distribution.

Biography

Born in Detroit, Michigan, Alice McLeod studied classical music, and also jazz with Bud Powell in Paris, where she worked as the intermission pianist at the Blue Note Jazz Club in 1960. It was there that she was broadcast on French television in a performance with Lucky Thompson, Pierre Michelot and Kenny Clarke. She began playing jazz as a professional in Detroit, with her own trio and as a duo with vibist Terry Pollard. She married Kenny "Pancho" Hagood in 1960 and had a daughter with him. In 1962–63 she played with Terry Gibbs's quartet, during which time she met John Coltrane. In 1965 they were married in Juárez, Mexico. John Coltrane became stepfather to Alice's daughter Michele and the couple had three children: John Jr. (1964–1982), a drummer; Oranyan (b. 1967), a DJ who played saxophone with Santana for a period of time; and Ravi (born 1965), a saxophonist.

In January 1966 she replaced McCoy Tyner as pianist with John Coltrane's group. She subsequently recorded with him and continued playing with the band until his death on July 17, 1967. After her husband's death she continued to play with her own groups, later including her children, moving into progressively more meditative music.

Coltrane was a devotee of the Indian guru Sathya Sai Baba. In 1972, she moved to California, where she established the Vedantic Center in 1975. By the late 1970s she had changed her name to Turiyasangitananda. She was the spiritual director, or swamini, of Shanti Anantam Ashram (later renamed Sai Anantam Ashram in Chumash Pradesh) which the Vedantic Center established in 1983 near Malibu, California. On rare occasions, she continued to perform publicly under the name Alice Coltrane.

The 1990s saw renewed interest in her work, which led to the release of the compilation Astral Meditations, and in 2004 she released her comeback album Translinear Light. Following a 25-year break from major public performances, she returned to the stage for three U.S. appearances in the fall of 2006, culminating on November 4 with a concert for the San Francisco Jazz Festival with her son Ravi, drummer Roy Haynes, and bassist Charlie Haden.

Alice Coltrane died of respiratory failure at West Hills Hospital and Medical Center in suburban Los Angeles in 2007, aged 69. She is buried alongside John Coltrane in Pinelawn Memorial Park, Farmingdale, Suffolk County, New York.

Impact

Paul Weller dedicated his song "Song For Alice (Dedicated to the Beautiful Legacy of Mrs. Coltrane)", from his 2008 album 22 Dreams, to Coltrane; the track entitled "Alice" on Sunn O)))'s 2009 album Monoliths & Dimensions was similarly inspired. Electronic musician Flying Lotus is the grand-nephew of Alice Coltrane. The song "That Alice" on Laura Veirs' album Warp and Weft is about Coltrane.

Discography

As leader

A Monastic Trio (Impulse!, 1967)

Cosmic Music (Impulse!, 1966–68) with John Coltrane

Huntington Ashram Monastery (Impulse!, 1969)

Ptah, the El Daoud (Impulse!, 1970)

Journey in Satchidananda (Impulse!, 1970)

Universal Consciousness (Impulse!, 1971)

World Galaxy (Impulse!, 1972)

Lord of Lords (Impulse!, 1973)

Reflection on Creation and Space (a Five Year View) (Impulse!, 1973; compilation)

Illuminations (Columbia, 1974) with Carlos Santana

Eternity (Warner Bros. Records, 1975)

Radha-Krsna Nama Sankirtana (Warner Bros. Records, 1976)

Transcendence (Warner Bros. Records, 1977)

Transfiguration (Warner Bros. Records, 1978)

Turiya Sings (Avatar Book Institute, 1982)

Divine Songs (Avatar Book Institute, 1987)

Infinite Chants (Avatar Book Institute, 1990)

Glorious Chants (Avatar Book Institute, 1995)

Priceless Jazz Collection (GRP, 1998; compilation)

Astral Meditations (Impulse!, 1999; compilation)

Translinear Light (Impulse!, 2004)

The Impulse Story (Impulse!, 2006; compilation)

As sidewoman

With John Coltrane

Live at the Village Vanguard Again! (Impulse!, 1966)

Live in Japan (Impulse!, 1966; released 1973)

Stellar Regions (Impulse!, 1967; released 1995)

Expression (Impulse!, 1967)

The Olatunji Concert: The Last Live Recording (Impulse!, 1967; released 2001)

Infinity (Impulse!, 1972)

With Terry Gibbs

Terry Gibbs Plays Jewish Melodies in Jazztime (Mercury Records, 1963)

Hootenanny My Way (Mercury, 1963)

El Nutto (Limelight Records, 1964)

With Charlie Haden

Closeness (Horizon Records, 1976)

With Joe Henderson

The Elements (Milestone Records, 1973)

With McCoy Tyner

Extensions (Blue Note Records, 1970)

With various

Stolen Moments: Red Hot + Cool

Wikipedia

[dustedmagazine]

Rodrigo Amado & Chris Corsano – No Place to Fall (Astral Spirits)

Partnerships are plentiful in improvised music and always have been. The intimacy and immediacy of the art form practically demand it. First encounters often yield memorable results too, and there’s a historical contingent famous for contending that repeat encounters can only lead to diminishing returns. That familiarity and fecundity invariably breed predictability and stasis. The musical relationship between saxophonist Rodrigo Amado and drummer Chris Corsano preserved on No Place to Fall endures as incontrovertible evidence regarding the fallacy of this claim as an aphorism. There are certainly examples where it holds true and preexisting pairings revert to rote exchanges, but it’s a far cry from a hard and fast rule.

Amado and Corsano align in an aural language forged primarily through performance, particularly in a continuing quartet context with saxophonist Joe McPhee and bassist Kent Kessler. Here, absent other instruments, the order is to dial into each other sans distractions and see where the ensuing frequencies lead. Despite the false safety of the studio setting, it’s without-a-net improvisation by design from the instant that mouthpiece links to lips and sticks strike drums on the innocuously titled, but utterly uncompromising “Announcement.” Amado funnels full-bore bursts through his reed as Corsano kicks up a coursing, frothing current of snare and cymbal shots from his corner. From there it’s tumbling momentum and bracing energy for seven minutes and change. 

“Don’t Take It Too Bad” does an about face into smoldering slow build solemnity. Amado sketches in saxophone charcoal, tracing smudged lines around Corsano’s skeletal commentary in the elliptical approximation of a ballad. Where the opener was largely density and drive, here the operative is space and processional emotion. The title piece fragments further with Amado blowing discretely staggered salvos shot through with ragged striations and overtones. The shaggy rawness of the shapes is matched by the forcefulness of Corsano’s chest-pounding press rolls in a friendly altercation of churning, centripetal sound. “Into the Valley” is tuneful by contrast as Amado wrings the most from a melodic fragment, straddling registers for a blissfully burnished tone against another sustained, salubrious Corsano barrage.

The duo closes the date with the tellingly titled “We’ll Be Here in the Morning,” layering the tender confluence of upper register legato tenor and brushed drumskin before tracing gradually more incessant contours that retain an expressive affective thrust even at high velocity. It’s signatory testimony that the longevity of their partnership is far from taxed and a useful corrective to those that consider abiding comradeship a bane to spontaneity in music.

Derek Taylor