#(verse: break the chains that bind us)

[damnedrainbows]

Like this for a starter of Alastor bugging your muse, and just not leaving your muse the fuck alone

In the wake of learning about who he’s truly contracted to and suffering at Roo’s hands, he slowly starts to unravel. He’s endangered himself and the hotel and is a wingless housefly flopping around in a trap he can’t get out of. Consistently, he represses his bleak fate and the fates of all he loves under a smile, and just overly friendly behavior, and he hangs around friends and enemies alike!

This estranged deer in this time cloys the desperate need for help by simply wanting to spend more time with his friends, abandoning any need for personal space and finding simply any excuse he can to just not be alone. If he’s alone, there’s no telling when he’ll be summoned back. If he’s alone, he’ll have nothing to distract him from thinking about what he’s done. How he’s…a ticking time bomb waiting to go off, and those he cares for may not survive the explosion.

[katakaluptastrophy]

Goodbye, Palamedes, my first strand - goodbye, Camilla, my second... One cord was overpowered, two cords could defend themselves, but three were not broken by the living or the dead. (HTN ch 21)

Dulcie here is quoting Ecclesiastes 4:12:

Though one may be overpowered by another, two can withstand him. And a threefold cord is not quickly broken.

And I was curious about what the patristic (i.e. early church) take on this verse might be, so I cracked out my Catena app and looked it up.

There was only one patristic gloss on this verse, from Ambrose of Milan:

Paul fled too, that he might pass out through a window and be lowered in a basket. Yes, he knew that the triplestranded rope could not break, but he fled so that he might preach the gospel of the Lord in the entire world, and consequently he was taken up into paradise.

Ok, ok, someone called Paul escaping the fate that would otherwise have awaited them thanks to a threefold cord. That's probably just a coincidence.

Then I looked at the 'related verses' section. There were two: Daniel 3:16 and Ephesians 4:3.

Daniel 3:16 features some young people who've fallen afoul of a powerful king and are thrown into a fiery furnace as punishment:

If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.”

Huh, ok. Well, the refusing the follow the false god/king thing is probably also a coincidence....

Anyway, Ephesians 4:3 isn't relevant:

endeavoring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace

Or at least, it doesn't seem to be until you look at the patristic commentary on it... Here's John Chrysostom:

Again he uses the metaphor of bonding. We have left it behind, and now it comes running back to us. Beautiful was Paul’s bond; beautiful too is this [bond of peace among Christians], and the former arises from the latter. Bind yourselves to your brethren. Those thus bound together in love bear everything with ease…. If now you want to make the bond double, your brother must also be bound together with you. Thus he wants us to be bound together with one another, not only to be at peace, not only to be friends, but to be all one, a single soul. Beautiful is this bond. With this bond we bind ourselves together both to one another and to God. This is not a chain that bruises. It does not cramp the hands. It leaves them free, gives them ample room and greater courage.

At this point, I can only assume Tamsyn is using the same app...

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Headcanon - Chained Memories

I've tried to write this one a few times and have big patches of text but the overarching idea just feels too big to contain in anything but a massive fic exploring all sides, and I'm a weak easily distracted bitch.

A literary cocktease, if you will

--------------------------------------------

Base Concept - what if the soul chains that bind people can, with the right level of power and coercion, be created from memories. That is to say, that specific memories can be infused into the collar and chain to ensure that it holds the wearer doubly hostage, because to break it is to lose an important piece of themselves.

The downside is that they cannot recall what that memory even pertains to. But can you risk losing it? What if the you you are now is not the real person you would be with the memory?

So, 7-8yrs previous, during a fight that was interrupted by a rather annoying extermination about 14 minutes early, Alastor and Vox were mid face-down destroying the place when angels descended.

You could hurl them around or block them, but their angelic spears eventually pin the overlords down.

They were originally fighting over the recent changes to AV industries, which included Val and Velvette, as the former was pushing for more varied adult entertainment and Alastor was revolted by some of the suggestions. Especially this whole ‘snuff film’ thing.

To kill was one thing, a fine hunt had sent both Vox and he into bloodlust so sharp and clear they could have tracked god through a sewage pit on more than one occasion, but… to torture and kill someone chained to you, who had presumably done no significant wrongdoing, just so another could climax? Disgusting.

Not to mention whatever shady nonsense had led to the moth ordering a half dozen cakes twice a week for his studios.

Alastor may not be well-versed on kinks, but he was certain that something fetishistic was at play because it is unlikely that the studio cast had a birthday every tuesday, without fail.

Vox had refused to meet his eyes on this when he’d asked. Confirming what Alastor had already assumed, and then decided he’d rather not know.

Alastor was not a fool, nor as much a prude as he sometimes played up for the public eye. Sinners ate up the whole Al vs Val back and forths in public locations, after all, but there were some things even he struggled to comprehend.

That was fine with the moth, for the most part, because the nearsighted pimp has the same response to Alastor’s radio endeavours. He knew sound goes in and travels the airwaves, but the radio station deck has about a thousand tiny buttons and dials, and just looking at it gave the moth anxiety.

Velvette remained on-brand, and staunchly unimpressed by anything ‘her old guys’ (affectionate) did. 

Valentino was being a whiny brat about the whole thing, which was grating on Al’s last nerve and Velvette was still new to her status of Overlord, and had no strong opinion either way. She listened to them, sure, but did her own thing anyway.

Besides, it was always going to end with at least two of the others fighting, maybe even a three-way battle with valentino, and then someone would get freaky with someone else and it would end up fine. That’s what usually happened in big arguments. She’d faced down Val once, even Vox… but even her best tantruming behaviour had yet to get the fuddy duddy old Radio Demon to rise to the challenge. He was oddly tolerant for her… and she’d worked out why after meeting his friend Mimzy, and the other overlord, Rosie.

She used that to her advantage when arguing with the other AVees. He would decimate her verbally, though, so its not like she had monopoly over the guy, but… it was a fun dynamic.

Their company was growing, their souls pulling the monolithic corporation forwards as each of the powerhouses fuelled the endeavour with their own influence. If she could just get them all to stop fucking with her phone camera to get a photo of the #AVeeTeam for her Sinstagram, life would be perfect. She’s still working on a filter to help her overcome Alastor’s whatever the hell distortion and the ‘not now Vel’ static fuzz Vox used.* (Use as a future plot device).

Back to the battle. Vox and Alastor’s combined abilities decimated any recording devices in the area, so at least it is not surveilled. Vel and Val immediately gathered some of the lower level contracts and set out to find the other overlords, amidst the battle, using them as shields as needed.

The only thing that mattered was retrieving the others back to the AV building, which was at least able to be locked down, swearing the whole time at how fucking inconvenient the foreplay shit their business partners were into was… etc.

Someone else watches the pair fall, both valiantly attempting to fight for the other, to the end… but against heavenly forces and angelic steel, what chance can they have?

A song drifts through the air, wrapping about the angelic ears and blanking their minds of the chaos they wrought, settling the bloodlust. ‘Return to your home’ suggests the song, and the squadron’s thoughts turn to fuzzy mush, their wings turning them back towards the heavenly portal. 

A serene sight swans through the massacred sinners, stopping before the mangled overlords with a soft sigh, like a mother coming across her children post paint-related shenanigans. Loving and amused, infinitely patient… and yet, there’s something in her sharp violet eyes that makes one feel under the perusal of a predator.

“My, my, my… what a magnificent little attempt to fight off the heavens.” She muses aloud, gloved fingers brushing over the embedded spear in Vox’s abdomen, as he shudders. “Too bad you had no chance against their little weapons, hmm? Ah, a pity… to waste such potential.”

Alastor is frowning. “M-Majesty? Whatever are y000oooou doing here in Exter-min-min-mination?” Radio distortion warbles sharply in the background of his speech, as he coughs harshly from the effort. One does struggle with a blade puncturing their lungs.

“Why, coming to offer you a chance to continue living, my dear Overlords!” She beams, magnanimous and charming. Her grin falls slightly at the calculating look in their eyes. “Hmmm, I should have surmised that Overlords would be the most shrewd at an offered hand, always wondering what the price would be. It is your bread and butter after all.”

“Wh4444t w0uld you a444sk of u5, y0ur Hi-igh-ighness?” Vox gasps, barely conscious. 

“Devotion. I heal you, and you will both stand under my banner, little overlords, be with me when we next rise up against the Heavenly oppressors.”

“Ah, my Queen…” Alastor’s ears droop.

“No, no, settle. Not right now of course. That is for a time in the future when demonkind will take the fight to Heaven once more and prevail… however, I am currently restricted by a new deal my foolish little husband has brokered with the feathered fools. So my hands are bound… but yours, well, who would know if the Queen had enlisted a number of powerful sinners to help when the time comes?”

“Yo-...” whatever Vox was about to say was lost to a wash of loud static, as he fought against collapse, screen flickering to black in a way that nearly made Alastor’s own heart stop. 

“D-deal. I will take it… if you can heal him.” Alastor barks, desperate in a way he had never been before, as Vox’s form began to shudder and spark. His barely raised hand is clasped by that of Queen Lillith, and light blasts across the area, purple and green intertwining about his wrist in a chain that seemed barely there. Ah, perhaps that was the bloodloss.

“We shall talk more in a moment, do excuse me.” She soothes, moving right to Vox and viciously yanking the spears from his trembling form, ignoring cries of agony that lance right through Alastor’s aching heart. With a calming song, Vox seems to settle, the dripping blue fluid that served as his blood was beginning to recede back inside the wounds as they closed. 

Alastor’s own mind was starting to dim at the edges, his being filling with the musical notes the Queen filled the air with. He thinks he might have been reflecting them back in a distorted way, as she pauses in shock to look at him; something wicked flickering through those captivating eyes.

She moves away from the remarkably more whole than before Vox, golden light closing the last of his wounds, and stands before the Radio Demon with something dangerous in her eyes. “You… I hadn’t assumed an Overlord, even the Radio Demon, could handle my song like that. Indeed, my plans were to have you and Vox corroborate your powers to try to broadcast this to the entire realm of Pride… and beyond, if we could manage it without Luci finding out. I never imagined that either of you could handle it alone.”

She effortlessly wrenched the spear from his chest, lips parting in a song that made the sharpness of his pain dial down rapidly, even as her hands found the deep gash at his side, the broken spear in his other thigh removed without warning.

And all the while, his eyes were torn between watching the notes form into the air and a desperate need to follow every movement Vox made, rising to his feet somewhat battered and bruised but very much whole.

For that, he could withstand even such a gentle, caring foreign touch. Though his tail flickered under his coat at the idea of strange, unfamiliar hands upon his person. 

Truly, he’d only just begun to enjoy casual touch with Velvette, the newest member of the team. She’d been an interesting curveball, loud and brash and always slinging an arm about your throat for a quick hug or a ‘self-y’, which was apparently a photo of you both smiling at a phone? So very tactile it took a moment to get used to, especially after all the boundaries one had to put in place with Valentino and all his many wandering hands.

One day, he thinks idly as the endorphins flood his system now the pain faded to naught, he might even drop his distortion filter to let her get his good side. However, he rather thinks the young media overlord is quite enjoying the pursuit of catching him off guard and would so hate to spoil her fun. The thrill of the hunt was something he knew intimately, after all.

“Mmm, come now my pretty little deer… what surprising powers you have under that facade. I will need both of you, but… perhaps only one to be my signal-bearer, the one who can regale Hell’s rings with my song and sovereign siren call to arms.” She muses, touching his face, noting the way he automatically flinched back from the sensation.

“H-hey, your majesty, he doesn’t like to be touched like that…” Vox intercedes, possibly imagining what the King might do if Alastor lost it and bit the Queen. He’s hobbling over rapidly, offering his hand to Alastor, getting them both on their feet in the wake of literally miraculous healing. “Are you okay, Al?”

“Fit as a fiddle… that fell down some stairs, haha! I’ll need some retuning later, I think, but for now… that you are well and safe means more than anything to me.” Alastor returns, briefly blotting out the Queen as the flatscreen fills his vision. He allows the other a brief peck, to reassure Vox this was real and not an end of afterlife hallucination, before facing her majesty once more.

With a sharp bow, Alastor’s grin blooms across his face. “Queen Lillith I cannot thank you enough for saving us from the angelic horde and I will honour our deal that I might stand beside you when we once more rise against Heaven. Those feathered bullies have been kicking over our metaphorical sandcastles with too much confidence for too long, I say. Thank you for the life of my vainglorious picturebox as well, a restored afterlife would not be worth much without him in it.”

Something sorrowful passes across the royal features, a memory of better times perhaps.

“Of course, I understand completely. If anything happened to my dear daughter Princess Charlotte, I would not know what to do with myself…”

The omission of the King was noted and swept aside by both overlords.

She heaves a rather heavy sigh, one that seemed weighted and filled with a foreboding that sent a shiver up Alstor’s spine. “I do apologise for this… but it is necessary for the future of Hell, and the safety of my baby girl.”

Her eyes flared glowing violet, the shadows deepened around the pair, and the chain at his wrist shattered. Before Alastor’s mind could find the words to ask what in Satan’s name was happening, for the bond was not repaid, he felt her command shiver through his bones. 

“Kneel.”

Vox cried out in alarm as Alastor’s knees struck the bloody concrete with a resounding shockwave of pain.

“Y-your majesty, if you don’t stop this, I’ll-... I’ll… I’ll broadcast this directly to the King on whatever screen he’s facing right this second!” 

“Hmmm, no. You won’t. In fact, both of you will make a stronger, more binding deal with me right now or I will erase the other overlord from existence. I am truly sorry it has come to this, but Heaven is conspiring to harm my child, and I have had enough of placating them, and this is the only way to ensure her safety.” She snarls. “You sinners all pledge fealty with pretty meaningless words, but when the horn rings, you cower away and forget your sworn oaths… I know that chains are the only thing that truly binds you.”

“Wh-...what would we get out of a deal? You know it needs to be reciprocal to some extent, for the price you are asking, my Queen.” Alastor tries to placate, trying to mentally map out anything in her words that might allow them an Out.

Her power was almost chokingly overwhelming, dizzying in its intensity. Briefly, his mind wandered to the King, and how violently powerful the man must be if this was only the second most powerful being in hell… 

“The deal I offer, that you MUST take, is that you will obey my commands and come when I call. You will work with me, in secret, against the Heavenly genocide that continues year after year; whatever form that may take, including taking on tasks I designate without advising anyone else of your intentions. You will not be allowed or able to advise the King, and will go out of your way to avoid his awareness of my plans. In return, once your service to me has completed, I will return your memories.”

“...what do you mean, our memories?” Vox asks hesitantly, trying to fight the intoxicating hold of the Queen to create a backup of his known memories on a secondary server. Magic crackles through him, corrupting the attempt.

“Exactly as I said. In a moment, I am going to use my song to rifle through your minds to bind your positive memories of life, and any memories of your relationship throughout the decades in hell. These I will keep, unless you agree to my terms. Should we strike a deal, and we shall, I will bind them into the very chains that shackle you to our agreement; do not fret, you will remember only enough to recall that the memories are there and that attempts to break the chains would destroy them eternally.”

“That… seems unbalanced, majesty. What chance can we have to defend Hell with you, or on your orders, if we do not recall our partnership?” Alstor entreats.

She laughs. “Ah, but you will find others. Fear not, I will add a little boost to your abilities, provided you do not disobey me… for I can take them away at will without sundering the binding. There are some perks to being a Queen in this forsaken realm, after all.”

“Vox, I-...” The hopeless despair is crushing, and while they do not technically need to breathe outside of habit, his lungs are constricting until it feels they would burst. He cannot see a way out of this little mess, there’s no clever trick or rewording that will slip them free of this noose.

Vox’s own screen reflects that horror, that agonised understanding. Blue clawed hands tighten painfully, and the man’s shoulder’s shake.

“I-... I’m sorry babe, I think we have to do what she says. But… it’ll be alright, right? Perhaps we can find each other again before our memories come back, and work together. Hah, how funny would that be?”

Showman’s charm on full display. 

“I-...hmm, indeed, my picturebox. Perhaps we will.” He slides his gaze towards the Queen. “Could we be permitted a moment of farewell?”

“Of course… but only a moment. We cannot tarry here longer, this has already been drawn out long enough that it may draw unwanted attention soon.”

Vox crashes their lips together almost violently, arms so tight about Alastor he might crush a vertebra with only a fraction more pressure, as desperate feelings of love and loss are infused into his kiss. Televisions cannot normally cry, but Alastor can taste the salt and hopelessness as it drips down the screen into their kiss, and it makes his heart ache.

“I love you, Al… and I’m sorry for anything I do when I can’t remember us.”

“I love you as well, Vox… and I, too, apologise in advance for anything I may do to harm you in the future.”

“Do we have a deal?” The Queen interjects, eyes darting to the skies, as if nervous. She extends one hand, palm up.

“Yes, your majesty.” The pair intone, and they place their hands atop that of the Queen, feeling power explode outwards, surging within them at the same moment that something oddly vital seems to strip away in a whirl of music that seems captivating. Violet collars infused with trace elements of green and blue snap fast about their throats, as their eyes dull, the pair barely gasping before collapsing in a boneless mess at the royal feet. 

“What the FUCK did you do them?” shouts a third voice, and a gun cocks.

Lillith turns about, catching the arriving ‘rescue party’ off-guard. Valentino’s gun wavers at the realisation that he’d just drawn on the Queen, and he fumbles it as Velvette slams into his back. They’re the only ones left after battling their way through angels to get here.

“Oi, you got no right to meddle with Sinner affairs, bitch. Let’s see what happens when all of Hell gets a good look at the sneaky shit you’re up to!” Velvette threatens, livestream in progress as the camera pans to Lillith. “Oi, you lot, look at this shit, the Queen’s down here in the muck of it, and she’s gunning for Overlords-...”

The feed terminates with a snap of Lillith’s fingers.

“Hmmm, perhaps a few more minds need some gentle tampering with. I may have a use for one of you as well, in future… but for now, I need you to Forget What You Saw. Forget about the Radio Demon, align your memories with those of the Television Demon… recall nothing more until their chains break and-... ah, blast. Out of time. FORGET!” 

In a flurry of purple, Lilith turns and dashes away as her shield snaps, and members of the Royal Guard arrive.

“Your majesty, please come with us… the King is beside himself that you went out during extermination!” A hellborn salutes, offering her a hand. “Uh, did you need us to deal with any of the sinners? Did they disrespect you?”

“What? Oh, no… I just did some minor healing to help them survive this blasted extermination. You know how it is, Antigonius, I just cannot help but be amongst the people in their time of need.” banter etc 

Lilith taken away.

Velvette shakes off the glamour, brain a mess of half-recalled wisps of memory.

She blinks, then whacks a stunned Valentino on the arm, “Hey, Vox is hurt… what the fuck? Do you see any angelic wounds? Wait… why’s the Radio Demon here?”

[Flesh out the scene, have them deciding whether to kill him or not, but ultimately Valentino gets one of his whores to drag the red fucker back to his shitty radio station. Not out of mercy, not really… just a weird feeling that killing him right now was Bad for some reason. He rationalises that maybe Vox had asked to be the one to kill the smug fucker. 

That was fair.

Ironically, it’s a drugged out Angel Dust who ends up hauling the other away, barely aware of what he’s even doing but knowing that he’s dead if he fucks up or the fucker he’s carting about wakes up. He at least puts him on the little sofa in the room and props him up comfy before leaving, stumbling back to Vee Tower. In the future, he’ll assume it was a dream… until later.]

Wake up not remembering one another.

Niffty is frantically feather dusting Alastor to wake him up, and had gone to get Husk. The other asks if he and Vox had a lover’s tiff and also what the FUCK the idiot thought he was doing out in the Extermination. Al confused, unsure what that meant, and tells the other not to talk about the idiot podcast… they hadn’t spoken in years.

Husk tries to push it, knowing something was fucked now, but is silenced by his own collar.

Vox wakes up confused, angry for reasons he can’t name and the sudden awareness of things in his room that might belong to the Radio Demon make him angry. A memory out of reach that pokes at him, something about Alastor… a friend he remembered in a haze. 

It fills him with anger, and a haunting obsession to stalk the other, find out what captivated him so. 

Vox and Alastor confront the horror of their own collars in time, and all they can remember is that something vital is in the memories in their chains that they dare not lose.

Nightmares from their living days and deaths, as all left is dark memories.

Within a year’s time… Alastor is summoned by the Queen, when she storms off, and taken to a place he is unable to speak of. To ensure his silence, as Heaven loosens bonds, she uses his own power to bind a smile to his face.

By the time he gets back, sent to both guard little Charlotte and ensure the failure of her hotel, his mind is whirring with panic and the need to find a way out. Husk is summoned and the first to notice something is completely wrong, the smile… that wasn’t right. The guy was always smiling before but this was… 

Couldn’t put a finger on it until he saw the man angry, saw him hurt, and it only showed in his eyes and the strain on that smile to fall.

He knows something is wrong.

----

Future, fighting Vox in the present, and pauses a potentially fatal strike when Vox stumbles and his screen flickers in the lower left corner. Alastor narrows his eyes.

“You dare presume to fight me without recharging yourself, picture box?” he taunts, enjoying how Vox stutters over the airways in anger and flustered mortification. 

“No… Fuck you! I’m f-ff-i111n3!”

“Clearly not. And I refuse to have anyone doubt the victory of our battle because you were running on emergency reserves. Come now,, take this and crawl back to your tower… we can reschedule.”

Alastor’s tendrils bring the other closer, a nebulous ball of green crackling energy forming in his free hand, easily batting aside the other’s sluggishly writhing electrical cables with his cane. When they were close enough, the energy seeped across the slight gap, into the ports surrounding Vox’s screen until the hazard light flickering in the corner of the screen settled down. “Now, away with you.”

He expects a cheap shot at his retreating back, and pauses in surprise when it doesn’t come, turning back to Vox. “Did you need more energy to get back to that tower than i assumed, or do you not consider me a threat?” he asks, baffled. 

Vox’s hand was outstretched as if to go through with the sneak attack, as expected, but the limb was languid, fingers curled in uncertainty. “I… should… but I don’t know why I didn’t…?”

It’s phrased like a question. There’s something nebulous, unspoken and unseen, in the space between them that feels heavy and crackles like static (find better descriptor). An unspoken something so heavy on the tongue they could nearly taste it, like the sharp scent of ozone before a lightning strike. 

A bullet fires past Alastor’s face, slicing through his cheek. A warning shot.

Valentino and Velvette appear in a flurry of power, he can feel the barrier of gossamer thin razorwire thread filling the space between Vox and himself, Velvette’s protective shield to prevent further attacks. 

“Back off, ciervo, and I will let you leave!” Valentino snarls, curling around Vox to check the damage as Velvette drops off a portable power pack for Vox to plug in. 

“Fortunate for you that I was already leaving, my lamp-addled amigo.” Alastor snipes back, grinning. Always grinning.

Valentino snarls, already pulling Vox to his feet as Velvette’s threads start to wrap about anything bleeding, absorbing bright blue blood and staunching the flow. 

“Why don’t you run back to the hotel and cower under your princessa’s petticoats like the coward you are? Attacking him in broad daylight when it’s clear Voxxy was at low charge… are you so afraid of what he represents, ciervo?”

“What? No, in fact Vox began the altercation… I was humouring him until I saw he was on reserve power. There is nothing to gain by crushing someone at their lowest… it would be achievements?”

“Yeah? You got a lotta practice with the baby-smothering then?” Vel taunts, distracting him. It’s openly a gambit for his attention, to see if he is likely to allow them to leave without a fight.

“Alas, I cannot say that is on my resume, no… I always preferred the ones who could fight back and give a good hunt. Just as Vox can, on a good day… but I see sitting about in the pitch of his tower is hardly doing him any favours at this point, why, he nearly nodded off in the meeting! He’s lucky dear Rosie was magnanimous enough to nudge him awake under the table, else Carmilla might have gotten quite cross.”

“...so, what…? You gonna throw down with one of us, or…?”

“Is that something either of you particularly desire at this time? I do have another engagement in forty-five minutes, but I’m certain we can make something work in the remaining time if you would like a tussle.”

“Oooh, deer daddy, I’d tussle with you any day…” Valentino purrs, merely for the joy he received at the way Alastor’s expression scrunched in pure disgust behind that fake smile.  “If we made it pay per view, I think we could buy all of Pride with the proceeds… lotta people want to see how you play in the sheets, after how hard you throw down in the streets, Radio Demon.”

“...Miss Velvette, would you be ever so kind as to remove the moth and his uncouth mouth from my vicinity before you need tweezers and a gallon of superglue to return him to his rightful shape? I understand you have trained him to follow orders, hmmm?”

“Heh, yeah, he comes when I-...”

Alastor’s ears flattened and his eyes rolled towards the sky. “Ah, I should have known it was only a matter of time before the pair corrupted you…”

Vel snorts, thinking it’s actually pretty funny to banter like this. Some deep little bell is ringing in the depths of her brain and for the afterlife of her, she can’t tell why this feels so familiar.

“Well, adieu all… if you do change your minds, even for a little sparring bout when everyone is in top form, please direct a telegram to the Hazbin Hotel and I will check my schedule. Or via mail.”

“Technology won’t bite, you know. I’m sure we’ve got an ancient, like, Nokia somewhere we can get you that you’d feel right at home with…” Vel grumbles, trying to recall the last time she ever heard of a telegram being sent or written. What the actual seven rings was with this guy?

Alastor merely hums and turns away, striding off at a languid pace and twiddling with his cane. A musical melody threading the air about his form as the few sinners brave enough to hide when four overlords were gathered rather than running for their lives, began to flee or take their own eyes out to avoid reprisal.

“Fucking old t1111m3y prickkkkk… telegram? I’ll give you telegram… Val, collab with babydoll to whip up something you might send to me when you’re in the mood, and we’ll say it with pyrotechnics.” Vox’s brain was stuck on this recent humiliation, and he wasn’t letting the smug deer get away scot free. Time to hit the guy where it hurts… his prudish pride.

---

Dinner was being cleared away a few evenings later when it began.

Explosive, repetitive cracks and pops that sounded like a veritable army of gunfire going off in waves. Niffty hurtled back inside and grabbed Alastor’s trouser leg, grinning maniacally.

“Sir, sir! The bad ones at the tower are sending you angry words in the sky!!!”

Before he can parse this, Angel Dust yells back into the foyer “Hey… uh, Smiles? You might wanna come see this shit… it’s uh… did you piss off Vox recently?”

Charlotte is standing outside with her mouth agape at the dazzling popping lights shooting over pentagram city that evening, made all the more visible by pendulous clouds of pending acidic downpour. He cannot make out the last words, but it appears that whatever the message was is being repeated once more in another scintillating display of pyrotechnics.

He’d be impressed with the coordination and use of fireworks if the message wasn’t so very grating.

“Message for Deer Daddy

Please come”

That hung in the air for a few beats too long before a secondary burst finished the sentence.

“Out and play with us at Vee Tower. 

We’ve been so naughty, don’t you want to put us in our place?

Don’t make us wait to”

Whatever they were waiting for was apparently misfired because the next eight vaguely legible words distorted, and spared the whole of Pride from reading whatever in the seven rings it said.

Finally, with a sharp burst and the Voxtech logo, came the final message:

“PS Get a phone. STOP.”

Lucifer was howling with laughter next to them all.

Husk was watching Alastor from the corners of his eye, unsure if this was going to be a ‘ha ha’ response or a ‘the city is being torn down godzilla style’ reaction.

Vaggie looked vaguely sick, and somewhat sympathetic, because she sure as hell would have died if Charlie had done that to her and she LOVED Charlie. It was clear whatever was between their overlord and the vees, this was… something else.

“Stop? Wait… like as in full stop? Like a telegram?” Angel frowned, confused.

Alastor tilted his head slightly, thinking over the words, and then banged the base of his cane on the ground twice until it sparked to life. Holding it close to his lips, his jovial voice emanated from anything with a speaker in all of pride.

“Dear Vox and associated Vee-generates, as amusing as your little sexting display was, I must decline whatever nonsense you have planned. If you have space for a proper battle next Wednesday after ten am, I think I could fit that into my schedule… otherwise, do go fuck yourselves. Good night Pentagram City, and remember that one sinner’s corpse can be another sinner’s dinner, so donate your murder victims to Cannibal Town today!”

A short burst of jazz flowed off into silence as the staff quieted.

“Uh, Al… are you okay?” Charlie asks, hovering beside him as he continued to watch the city. He shushes her gently.

“...wait.”

Powerlines crackle and lights go out across the cityscape, as Vox and his cohorts realise their little game had failed. “Hah! There it is! Can’t contain himself, and throws an absolute tantrum when his plans backfire…”

“So you’re not actually banging any of the Vees, right? Like… I just need to know in case you want me to pretend we don’t know each other when we run into each other at the tower…” Angel says, ignoring warning signals to sling an arm over Alastor’s shoulder.

That causes a splutter of genuine laughter from Alastor. “HAH as if, my dear fellow, those three are quite annoying enough as enemies, and I would assume far more annoying as strange bedfellows. This, I suspect, was because I put Vox through several layers of pavement after the Overlord meeting a few days back… he started the altercation when his battery was almost empty, the fool.”

“And you humiliated him by pointing it out and refusing to finish him?”

Angel snorted, and was lightly shoved off the radio demon. “I mean, the offer is clear Smiles, you can go ‘finish him’ anytime tonight… they’ve been naughty, they said.”

“...Charlotte, if I promise to get a better prospect of a guest, might I send dear Angel here to the shadow realm for a brief lesson?”

“The place with those big fuckin’ tentacles? Count me in, baby!”

“...on second thoughts, I might just beat you to death right here.”

“Oooh, hardcore impact play… no wonder the Vees are interested, ‘Deer Daddy’.”

“...there is literally nothing I can say that will not have some fetishistic connotation you can twist, is there?”

“Nope.” grins the arachnid, smug and feeling only a little disappointed about the missed tentacle pit opportunity. “You want me to list them alphabetically, or just as they… heh, arise… in conversation?”

“Hmmm, well in that case…” it’s clearly triggered a thought for Alastor. “Perhaps you can explain why Valentino’s studios intake a dozen well-crafted cakes of all varieties every third Tuesday of the month from a bakery owned by one of my more established souls. The orders began last year sometime after a previous supplier was destroyed, I understand, but it seems extremely unlikely that you are being allowed to eat them or celebrate milestones given what level of tyrant reigns over you all there.”

Angel actually pauses, noting the pleading stare from Husk to not share this clearly horrific secret. “Well, uh… it’s a sex thing, as you probably guessed. But a very specific one… actually several, I think. There’s people who like watching bigger people eat just like a shitload and often cake is a favourite; and some like to y’know, add their own filling and all…” He seems to war with himself for a moment before bending to whisper directly into Al’s ear, which twitches.

“...and you say people find this arousing, how?” There’s another whisper, and a sharp burst of static through the air. “What do you mean people pay to eat it afterwards?!”

“What can I tell ya, Smiles, people are here for a reason… and it ain’t cause they were into feet too much.” 

“Enlightening. In the worst way possible… but it does solve a mystery. I may keep that one away from the bakery owner, it would cause them no end of distress to think such hard work was being desecrated in such a base manner.”

“Awww, Al, is that you caring about another person I hear?” Charlie gasps, eyes sparkling.

“Pish-tosh, perish the thought Charlotte… to own a soul is to have the right motivational leverage, sometimes that means refraining from sharing information that would demoralise a thrall.”

“Good enough.”

“You should really get a phone, Alice… your fling with Box and the Zees woke the whole neighbourhood with their attempts to get hold of you.” Lucifer goads. “Oh sorry, do you prefer ‘Deer Daddy’ instead now?”

A sharp barb rises on his tongue about how the dear departed Queen was supposed to make contact with the shell of her husband when he hid away making ducks for a decade, but he drops it so swiftly he shocks himself. 

“Why, Lucifer, are you offering to play carrier pigeon for our secret lovenotes and other folderall?” He says in a sickly sweet tone that wipes the smirk off the King’s face. “How generous of you… hah, Royal Air Mail direct from Vee to you.”

Charlie snorts behind her hand and disguises it as a cough as the kind turns a rather odd golden shade that must be a furious flush. In a split-second, that serene bored expression is back. “You couldn’t afford my delivery rates, Bambi… just get a phone like the weird sky sext suggested. I’m gonna go back to bed, and hopefully, that’s the last we’ll hear of this nonsense tonight.”

“...indeed. Well, if everyone has ceased gawking at the spectacle, it may be best to retire to your rooms as the hour is late. Niffty and Husker, I recall you are both on cleaning duty but strangely did not see you in the kitchen just now helping with clean up.”

“Oh, I can he-...”

“Princess Charlotte will not offer to help for the fourth night in a row, because we have a roster system for a reason. She is going to her room with dear Vagatha and actually sleeping tonight. If my Shade finds you sneaking down into your office to plan redemption activities all night long one more time… why, I believe that someone might make your partner and father aware of the situation.”

“Hey! I’m an adult who can make her own choices!” she grumbles.

“An adult who still needs sleep to function at optimal efficiency, something you cannot achieve or attain when running on less than a full eight hours per week.”

“Wait, per WEEK? Char-Char, you had better hope I don’t catch you burning yourself out like that at night or I can and will ground you magically. You know I can!” Lucifer chides.

“Only if I can’t get to her first, your Majesty… Charlie, we talked about this!” Vaggie sighs.

Charlotte throws a glaring accusation at Alastor, who grins back as she is dragged off to bed. 

Husker drags Niffty inside by the collar, as she is bouncing up and down on a trail of ants giggling frantically. 

Angel once again slings his arm over Alastor’s shoulder, as he starts walking back inside. Alastor refrains from removing the limb at the joint, stunned by the sheer audacity of the other.

“Hey so like… you actually good? I know that was meant to get under ya skin, and I mean, they tried to blast you all over Pride. So, if you wanna bitch about it, spill the tea and all… you can like, talk to me. I’m used to the weird sexyish mindgames Val plays, so it’s nothing I haven’t heard or complained about before…”

“Thank you. I assure you that this is nothing out of the ordinary for my dealings with them, but I will not forget your attempt at… whatever form of companionship this is, my effeminate fellow.”

Angel snorts and rolls his eyes, “It’s called being a good friend you all-powerful dumbass, but I get it if you’re out of practice… Vags said you went away for like ages, so I get it if that part of your brain went rusty or whatever. But if you’re really all good…”

“I am, most assuredly.”

“...then it’s my duty to explain to you the basic terminology of my general profession, so they don’t catch you off-guard again.” Warning static filled the air. “Okay, where to start…? Oh, I know, do you know what fisting is?”

A blare of something that sounded like a radio falling down a flight of stairs echoed.

“...I’m assuming that it has nothing to do with fisticuffs?”

“True. Okay so like, do you know what a muppet is…? Because it’s like that, but if someone wanted to be a muppet and another person has a lotta lube, so-…” Angel asked, as the Kitchen door swung shut on the frankly absurd and truly bizarre conversation at play. 

Husker dithered in the entryway a few moments later, arms loaded full of used cutlery and crockery. Couldn’t they just have one normal night in this place…? He groaned, and pushed open the doors to the sound of a detailed explanation of something he’d never wanted to know, nor the mechanics of the activity done to safety standards.

“...if they get stuck you can always get the third person to like, squeeze the thing until it pops, so-...”

This hotel was fuckin’ weird at the best of times.

But, the cat thinks as he sees the genuine delight and passion on Angel’s face in contrast to the curious but mildly horrified expression Alastor’s as the pornstar detailed something involving balloons and birthday clowns, that perhaps it wasn’t all bad. 

Find the little joys. Carpe Diem. Seize the-... well, Angel was talking about seizing quite a few things, now.

In the background, Niffty hurled herself into the sudsy sink with rapturous giggles and had to be fished out.

[find better end to this chapter section]

>Maybe alastor gets angel back by explaining the best way to dissect different sinner types, with Niffty input later on.

-

Velvette is clearing out her old documents and code work, her hard drives may be nearly infinite, but sometimes literally tossing the old helped declutter her brain. She runs across a strange half-done add-on file she didn’t remember fiddling with, and almost dismisses it out of hand, after all ‘Gonna_Get_Em’ isn’t that descriptive of a file name. But something stops her drag and drop…

She opens the folder and checks the notepad file attached, it’s from about eight years ago with a summary of the code she’d been tinkering with. 

‘Attempt #36 didn’t work, but it appears the filter is close to overriding the distortion, something about the colour input? Note to self - try reversing the gradient values in code, add the Wrathian perception hex in binary.’

‘Attempt #37 - well that fucking failed. Al was big mad tho, so it was pretty funny! Try the Greed perception hex, those fuckers can get over any sort of paywall with their little tricks. See if that does it.’

She clicked a rather indistinct looking jpeg of primarily fuzzy green, black, blue and red mess… and gasped. Deep within the photo, for someone who knew the idiots personally, was the shockingly familiar faces of Alastor and Vox, both clearly startled out of sleep and half-demonic. Even deep-fried, she could see through what remnants of the filter made it through the distortion, that this was no caught-out hook-up. They were in pyjamas, posters of something called the AVees on the wall she almost could have thought had her younger self in them, and bookmarked novels on at least one of the bedside tables. 

Where was this taken? WHEN? It’d clearly been her doing, and for… a filter? A filter to overcome their distortion? And whenever this was, she’d clearly not been afraid of any reprisal despite the demonic eyes, tendrils and sharp grins facing her.

A very, very faint memory brushes behind her eyes. She remembers holding back giggles as she’d snuck into their room… and bursting out laughing at their shock, snapped awake by their protective fields detecting surveillance. 

What the seven rings even was this?

This was something she needed to take to Val and Vox, like, immediately.

The Vees start to talk, and Vox finds they are all silenced quickly. That ain’t right.

An alarm in Vox’s mind says don’t push it, or lose everything.

Alastor is hostile from the get-go to the King. For one, he seethes with rage that the Queen was able to do all of this under his nose, not to mention the fact that someone with all the power in multiple realms was this sad little clown thing that was so depressed he barely showered most days. Not to mention, if the King had stood up to Heaven with the Queen, none of this would have happened.

And… to some extent, given his role as protector to the little Princess, he supposed that maybe, possibly, Alastor might have come to enjoy being around her for more than entertainment alone. Perhaps not a daughter, but a niece he occasionally went out of his way to provide aide and counsel to? She was such a vivacious thing, so full of hope that everything in all existence has desperately tried to beat out of her and failed.

The battle, injured by Adam as the Vees watch.

Roiling in Vox’s gut as he sees Alastor downed; puts on a show of delight and horniness about the whole matter either way. For his part, the Radio Demon finds that Lillith’s displeasure yanks his extra power back at the last moment… allowing Adam to nearly shear him in two.

In panic, the shadow pulls him away and drops him in the old radio tower.

He returns to the hotel as soon as he can get the wound to stop seeping through the bandages. Joining in to Charlie’s little song and dance, oddly endeared by the fact that everyone sans Husk and Lucifer seemed genuinely delighted he was alive. How confusing!

It was later, as the hotel was returning to operational standing with Alastor adding little flourishes to seem like he was engaging in the creation process… despite feeling like every flicker of magic he used was being dragged out of him violently. (better descriptor needed).

Husk noticed. Of course the canny creature did, and kept finding reasons to get Charlie or Vagatha’s attention on Alastor.

Infuriating. But he couldn’t even discipline the other without potentially keeling over. Too many around could easily take his overlord status in such a state… 

Well, he thinks as his chest throbs unpleasantly, he might almost hand Husker the knife himself if this keeps up. 

So deep in his own mind, he doesn’t realise the extent of eyes on him until he is ever so gently corralled into a side room. Charlie sweating nervously as she talks brightly at him, and Alastor tries so hard to listen… there’s a buzzing in the background that he only just realises is his own and shuts off at the last moment. 

There’s another annoying buzzing he’s listening to, and it can’t be silenced so easily.

“...Boss?” 

“Hmmm? Apologies, I wasn’t listening Husker, you should hear what Vox is reporting on his insipid little shows, the airways are quite glutted with the mess. Of course he would capitalise on others’ deeds. Claiming his Angelic Security System was the root of our victory today…”

“Well, not like you won’t put the truth in your show later, right? Fair’s fair.” Vaggie chimes in, moving to his left, so he has to turn to face her. The angel’s depth perception could get a little off when she was tired, so she tended to move out of direct light and angle herself to see the person better. A funny little habit he’d noticed in the past few months of mere observation around the hotel. Everyone had such intriguing quirks when you took notice…

“True, dear Vagatha. I-... Angel, what do you have in that hand of yours?”

“Uh, a little something that WAS for Me’n’Cherri to enjoy, that I think Charlie’s gonna confiscate now, so thanks for that.” the arachnid scowled, showing off a glowing syringe from behind his back, as indeed Charlotte strode over with a thunderous expression on her face. 

“Angel, we talked about this! Sometimes good things can be celebrated without drugs, or alcohol or…well, maybe non-destructive sex can be on the list, but consensual. Because if you reinforce good things with healthy coping mechanisms and rewards, its easier to make better choices when things go wrong. Right Alastor?”

“Indeed. It seems someone has been reading up on psychological approaches to therapeutic care… a laudable endeavour. The books do tend to be quite dry, but worth the effort.”

“I know! I’m halfway through one called ‘Now: Distractions & Disarming Strategies for Helping the Resistant Patient’, it’s by-...”

Alastor’s mind was trying to recall the title on any of the bookshelves, when he felt arms lock about his throat, so utterly surprising him that the additional betrayal of Charlotte jamming the syringe into his arm was negligible. Lashing out automatically, his tendril hurled Husker several feet away, how dare the cat think he could grab him like that?

“Okay, no you don’t!” snaps the king, fingers clicking as golden bindings tethered his tendrils to the ground. His shadow bit at the tiny majesty, and it was banished… which… actually hurt. That was strange. Maybe it was because he wasn’t the dismisser. 

The world was spinning as he snarled, body creaking into Overlord form, likely to destroy the room if allowed to reach full height. 

“Aw fuck… he’s gonna eat us. I told you we shoulda used H8 in the mix, toots. Overlords don’t go down, heh, unless you dose ‘em up good… and I can even get Val to nap with the right cocktail, so trust me I know what I’m about.” Angel blurts, eyes wide. “Ah fuck it, I can try something else but you gotta keep him from killing me when he’s better…”

“What do you mean-...? Oh, oh gosh that’s a lot of blood…” Charlie went mildly green as the transformation began to tear at the concealed wound, sending a surge of murky golden-red blood seeping through his clothing. Her voice caught Alastor’s attention, and while he did not swipe at her, he did allow his gaze to briefly ascertain the princess was still unharmed by his actions.

Lilith’s command notwithstanding, he certainly enjoyed the little royal enough to not wish her ill. 

Dodging a swipe from the rapidly enlarging form, Angel darted behind Alastor and crawled up the shifting spine, ignoring awfully violent pops and cracks as bones shifted beneath his hands. He threw a silent apology to the overlord, ‘cause he might be a jerk but he’d never actually like, hurt Angel, at all… or been rude about his profession neither which he’d thought was a given, given Alastor’s… everything.

His face shifted, fangs descending as rarely used venom sacs filled in the hollow reservoirs in the corners of his mouth. Without preamble, he bit down against a clammy, scarred throat and held on as Vaggie pinned the enlarged hand that aimed to brush him away. Charlotte grabbed the other, using her strength to hold on tightly, until it was clear that the combination of drugs and venom were taking effect. 

Unlatching, and hoping he didn’t have to do that again any time in the near future cause he always felt like a fucking scumbag after using his venom against an unwilling person who wasn’t like, trying to kill him directly. Angel fell back and was caught by Niffty, who scooted him away with terrifying strength. Pretty sure Husk was laughing at him.

With a loud scream of static and something like an elk bugle, but off, the overlord’s body shrank and swayed. Eventually falling forwards, caught at the last moment by a combination of Husk and a reluctant, disgusted Lucifer.

“This was ridiculous, sweetie… couldn’t you just let him, like, die? We JUST fixed this place up and his dramatic ancient ass has already damaged half the lounge area!” 

“Daaaaad, please, he’s hurt because he helped the hotel. If I can sense it, you surely can… and we didn’t have a choice, he’d never have asked.”

“Then respect his wishes to double-die, and let him go. I can find you another overlord to help with this place if you’re so set on needing one… there’s uh… well, I remember Zestial. He’s okay, and hey, he speaks like an old-timey guy too so you won’t miss this one!”

“Dad. Enough.” Charlie snaps, her good cheer is finally dying, it’s been a long day. “Please, I am asking you, ME YOUR DAUGHTER, if you can help with this. You and Mum are the only ones I know of who can fix angelic wounds… and i don’t know what that guitar thing was made of, but I think that’s why I can taste the angelic essence radiating off of Alastor. Why Adam came after me and the shield fell.”

“...ah, fine, okay. Let’s at least see what we’re dealing with here…” Lucifer relents. Maybe the bellhop wouldn’t have been injured so bad if he’d been able to get there sooner, before Adam got the chance to go for Charlie.

He snapped up a couch beside them, and dropped the limp overlord on it without much care. Husk, of all sinners, grumbled and realigned Alastor so he would at least be less than agonisingly uncomfortable laying there, and started to unbutton the demon’s shirt. A task made harder by how wet it was with blood.

Makeshift bandages were mostly shredded by the transformation itself, so the injury was immediately obvious, and even the King had to admit that was pretty, hmmm, yep, that was Fucked. Cracking his knuckles, then his neck, Lucifer set his expression as his hands hovered over the wound, feeling around for the angelic grace he felt radiating out in little rays.

With a circular motion of one wrist, like winding a spool in, Lucifer tugged at the divine essence until it began to come free in little glimmering globules. This takes a few moments, before a small tennisball shaped orb of glistening golden blood and grace solidifies in his hand.

“Vaggie, could you please hold this? It might hurt someone else here if they touch it… it’s pure Grace, from Adam of all people, so it’s pretty potent.” he says, handing it over to the ex-orcist. “I’ll destroy it later, just gotta fix this fucking mess first.”

“Is that his lungs?” Angel asks, peering over the King, fascinated and horrified in equal measures. “Can you uh, actually fix this sorta thing? It’s pretty fucked even for Overlord healing to try and fix.”

“Of course I can, still got the old angelic healing ability after all. Heh, look, he even has a heart in there… welp, let’s get this covered up.” His power surges through the body, reconnecting blood vessels and nerves, mending tissue, coaxing muscle into place and marrow to produce more blood to replace the lost with a surge of golden nutrition to help the process along. He was sure there were a few metallic components and wires in there, but they didn’t seem too damaged, so he just clicked them back to where they seemed to belong and went back to healing. By the time the wound seals, nothing more than a slightly raised scar remains shimmering oddly.

“Okay, that was pretty awesome.” Angel admits, shrugging. His eyes can’t help but take in the form before him, likely seeing more of the Radio Demon than anyone in decades. Particularly, the odd shaped scars over the body and the painfully tight skin that lived there now. “Can your powers do anything about scars? I mean… those don’t look all that comfortable.”

“Hmmm? What? Oh, no… can’t do much about death marks, you guys come with them. Sinners get assigned bodies based on your lives, deaths and a thousand other weird variables that’d be hard to explain, and everything about you imprints on the form. I might be able to settle some of the angrier ones so they don’t pull all the time…” he pauses, “I mean, if Bambi here wasn’t sure an antagonistic dick to me constantly.”

His eyes fall on another shimmery scar near the one he just closed. “That one, on the other hand, I think that’s an angelic blade that someone else healed over before… and I think the one hiding on this side… but that makes no sense. I don’t recall doing this, and Charlie can’t, but why would…?”

He prods the sinner, once, on the older injury to try and ascertain who could have done this.

With a flare of angry violet light, Lucifer is shoved back as the collar manifests, shocking everyone in the room save Husk. “Ah, fuck…” the gambler groans and bats Lucifer’s hand away.

The light show settles, but the chain remains.

Lucifer’s eyes water with tears of rage and horror. “...Char Char? Why is your little bellhop bound with your mother’s magic?”

“I-... I didn’t-...” 

“They’re… trapped… by… Her.” Husk growls out, around his own collar manifesting. “Can’t say… more specifics. Al blocked me and Niffty… because it… means punishment… to talk about their deal.”

“They? Who else?” 

“...think… Vox?” He waited a moment and the collar settled. If it was around the deal, maybe he’d be in the clear. “Eight years ago, something went off, went wrong, not sure what… those two acted like they didn’t know each other, the Vees were cold to him and Nift and I, and then he disappeared. Thought they’d broken up or something, but it was like… they hadn’t been together at all.”

“Like… business partners?”

“Like partners partners, with the occasional extras… and all I can sort of remember about that day was that Niffty was frantic cause Al and Vox had decided to hash out an argument in the regular fashion while the clock was counting down to an Extermination.”

“So what… somehow the Queen decided to get involved with two overlords fist-fighting in the middle of an extermination and what, chain them for her amusement?”

“...Radio Demon… Television Demon…” Lucifer muses aloud, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Charlie, you know what your mother was able to do with her voice… well, I think, if I’m assuming right, that this was more about What they are than Who. You have the television guy who is The Network, and then you have the radio fucker here, who represents The Signal… she was looking for a way to broadcast herself to everyone, everywhere, all at once. And I think I know why.”

“No, she wouldn’t…”

“...would…” manifests a very weak voice, without Alastor moving his mouth. The shadow hovered nearby and flashed images on the nearby wall to help. Angels with spears, some people being hit, musical notes, and… the Queen. The Queen with chains binding the other two, and musical notes making an x across a silhouette of the king, a heart around the silhouette of Charlotte.

There was a notable pause, before the shadow brought back Lillith again, this time she stood by someone with wings, a chain trailing off into shadows. Familiar gates, and Lillith entering. The shadows rested into nothing.

“Is that where she is?” Lucifer asked, heart in his throat. “Is my wife in heaven right now?”

The collar flared again, as did Alastor’s stitches. The shadow behind him pointed out the window at Heaven, nodding. 

“...she will know… that you know.” 

“Was I not supposed to?”

“No.”

“Oh, and what will she do now you’ve disobeyed her?” 

“Likely… the same… or worse… than she did when… she realised the hotel… remained standing. She wanted it to… fail… so Charlotte would… lead the army she is… building against… Heaven.” 

“She WHAT?” Char and Luci yell.

“Hmmm.”

“Why didn’t you destroy the hotel then, huh? What are you getting out of it?”

“Also asked… to be protector of… Charlotte… seemed counterintuitive to… break down her life’s work…?” 

“Hah, found a loophole you slippery fucker.”

“Is that why you got hurt? I mean, Adam was tough enough that he nearly hurt me but…”

“...don’t worry about… it, Charlotte. Will be fine.” 

“That didn’t answer my question, Al. Did Adam get to you because of something my mother did?”

“...cannot answer that.” 

Charlie’s eyes brim with tears. “So, yes then. Fuck, this is so unfair, why would she do this? To me, to you, to Dad and even to Vox… and who knows who else she’s hurt like this. To what end?”

“To fight Heaven, Char-Char. Her rebellion failed, but only because she couldn’t raise all of Hell to fight with her song. She’s never-... Your mother never forgot what they did to us, the fall… the aeons we laid still breathing through the agony until our bodies reformed and the realm snapped into being. Her rage consumed her, especially once you were here and she feared you’d try to do…”

“Something that would upset Heaven enough for them to try and hurt me.”

“Exactly. Bellhop… why is Lillith in Heaven? Who is helping her?”

The stitches flared violently.

“Okay, nothing direct, got it… is the person that she was working with… still in Heaven, right now?”

Alastor’s stitched grin actually grew wider as he took in the question.

“Not… anymore…” he managed through the binding, and made a pointed glance at Niffty.

It took a moment.

“ADAM?! Her deal was with that fucker? She HATES him for the shit he did to her back in the Garden!” Lucifer explodes, furious. He calms “Okay, okay okay… well, he’s dead now, so what… she’s coming back?”

Radio static responds as the stitches tighten.

“Can’t tell me… got it. Okay, so what I got out of this is that Lillith was trying to get her hands on overlords with the ability to share her song, her power, across at least Pride if not the seven rings. She didn’t want me to know, at all, and did this all in secret… but decided to add in a caveat about protecting Charlie for at least you, if not the other guy too.”

“And she’s coming back to fight Heaven again… soon?” Charlie asked, voice small and trembling with warring emotions. “But she wanted my hotel to fail for some reason…?”

“Works… target.” Alastor adds, clearly fighting to stay awake against the roiling cocktail in his system and the healing magic that was trying to reset him through sleep. “Adam… to win…”

“If the hotel works or even looks like it might, then Heaven will target you, honey.” Vaggie tries to piece it together in her own head. “And Adam was… supposed to win? Seriously? Gross.”

“Hmmm…” 

“Do you think if we asked Vox, he might remember some other information to help us?”

“...no. Can’t remember. Chains are… memories.”

“What? No, that’s ridiculous, no one’s used that kind of binding for millennia…” Lucifer scoffs, and touches the chain, only to immediately hiss in disgusted sympathy. “I stand corrected. That’s… we forbade that practice because of what it can do if the chain is shattered without the deal completing properly or the dealer deciding to punish the other. You can't recover those memories…”

“Hmmm, yes…” 

“Okay, well… fuck, you take a nap there and I’m going to go level a couple buildings somewhere until I can think straight again, and then we’re going to find a way to talk more about this.”

[fitful sleep, only recalls recent memories or bad memories from life, someone wakes him]

“Whoa, chill, just me. That didn’t look restful, so I woke ya up… want something to make the dreams go away? I got some stuff that might wipe Vox’s circuits clean if he took a taste, but it helps me crash without any memories.”

“...maybe later…”

[Further explanation]

--

Do you want me to break your chains?

“I do not know exactly which memories are trapped, but they are mine and I will not risk breaking the chain or losing them. What I do recall is that her majesty bound anything positive from life, and something vital from my afterlife, and it infuriates me to not have any real idea what that could be.”

Vox approached to explain situation, Lilith calling on him now. 

Lilith having to return from heaven because both pawns are breaking oaths. Adam dead

Her family confronts her, she punishes the overlords by draining their abilities into her own. Boss battle of some kind. 

Etc etc.

[under-olympos-bodhi-tree]

Zeus the Father of Science - A Prayer to Zeus Mêchaneus

Zeus, the Father of Science, in your boundless might, Tallest one amongst the clouds, bearer of endless light, Hear our humble voices, raised in solemn verse, In your grand dominion, let our pleas disperse.

Mighty Zeus, who commands the lightning's fierce dance, Guide us through the unknown, give our minds a chance. From the heights of Olympus, with your gaze so wide, Shield us from the darkness, be our steadfast guide.

With your thunderous voice, break the chains of ignorance, Let your wisdom rain down, in its purest essence. As the eagle soars high, on winds unseen, Lift our thoughts above, to where knowledge has been.

In the forge of your will, let our curiosity blaze, Through the storms of doubt, guide our seeking gaze. Zeus, O sovereign ruler, in your hands hold the light, Dispel the shadows of unknowing, with your power so bright.

Grant us, O Zeus, the strength to seek and to find, The truths of the cosmos, the laws that bind. In your honor, we pledge, to pursue wisdom's flame, To honor your name, in science, in fame.

So, Zeus, Father of Gods, from your high throne above, Bless us with insight, with clarity and love. In the vast, starry sky, let our minds take flight, Under your watchful eye, in the pursuit of right.

[soundomachine]

They control the game. You're just a piece. "Just Call Me Master" is a bold, truth-telling song about hidden power, mass manipulation, and the illusion of freedom. Inspired by real-world systems of control, this reggae-infused track pulls back the curtain on a world designed to keep you obedient and unaware.

🎧 Listen close. You might hear the truth whispering between the lines.

#JustCallMeMaster #newworldorder #questioneverything #karaoke #nwo #reggae #wakeupcall #thegreatawakeningworldwide #thegreatawakening

🎧 "Just Call Me Master" song is now available on all major streaming platforms!

Listen & download on Spotify, Apple Music, iTunes, Amazon Music, and more 🌊💔✨

📍Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/album/1V8OhHQCz02nLr4mFsLfCc?si=jNZ9MeTeQYC71mT3Dt7aVw

📍Apple Music & iTunes: https://music.apple.com/us/song/just-call-me-master/1751057655

📍Amazon Music: https://amazon.com/music/player/tracks/B0D6K1N4VW?marketplaceId=ATVPDKIKX0DER&musicTerritory=US&ref=dm_sh_8Gas9vPJue4s6BS1GCPqrMyEx

Add Just Call Me Master to your playlist, share it with someone starting to question the system, and let the truth unfold. 🧠🔥

====================== 📜 LYRICS:

[Verse 1] You think you're free, but you're living in chains, Following the script, playing their games, Born into lies, fed from the start, Never questioning the role, never playing your part. Invisible hands, they shape your mind, Blindfolded masses, truth you’ll never find. Legends and myths, gods we traded, For CEOs and brands, illusions created.

[Pre-Chorus] A-I whispers, media spins, Henchmen follow, never question sins. A world built on dreams, where nothing’s as it seems, Controlled by the unseen, pulling at your seams.

[Chorus] I'm the Manipulator, just call me master, oh, yes, master, Sheep all around me, lost and tattered, Frog in a well, living swell in your tiny world, Jump out, but now you’re in my pot, caught, It's a slow boil of toil, all for me, Can't you see? You'll never break free.

[Verse 2] Wars and faith, tribal lines they draw, National pride, just another flaw. Corporations with a human face, But it's all just a façade, hiding the trace. You work, you toil, for an unseen goal, Feeding the machine, never knowing your role. From cradle to grave, it's all a design, Keeping you asleep, while they rob you blind.

[Pre-Chorus] A-I whispers, media spins, Henchmen follow, never question sins. A world built on dreams, where nothing’s as it seems, Controlled by the unseen, pulling at your seams.

[Chorus] I'm the Manipulator, just call me master, oh, yes, master, Sheep all around me, lost and tattered, Frog in a well, living swell in your tiny world, Jump out, but now you’re in my pot, caught, It's a slow boil of toil, all for me, Can't you see? You'll never break free.

[Bridge] Lemmings march to the edge, unaware, Blindly following, never a care. In this grand design, you’re just a pawn, Dancing to a tune, till the break of dawn. Rise up, wake up, see through the lies, But even then, you’re in their eyes.

[Chorus] I'm the Manipulator, just call me master, oh, yes, master, Sheep all around me, lost and tattered, Frog in a well, living swell in your tiny world, Jump out, but now you’re in my pot, caught, It's a slow boil of toil, all for me, Can't you see? You'll never break free.

[Outro] You think you’re free, but you’re living in chains, Under my thumb, feeling the strains. In this world of illusion, you’ll never see, The strings that bind you, forever tied to me.

[quirkwizard]

Can you provide some feedback on my original quirk? It’s called Shackles, and it’s an Emitter type quirk. When the user snaps their fingers in a direction a purple bolt of energy is sent out. If it hits something the user can snap again in a different direction and link the 2 targets together by a translucent, purple chain. In practice if the user hits a spot on the wall and then snaps to their left wrist, the 2 will be chained together.

The chains last for around 2-4 minutes, and they are created from the user’s stamina. The chains however are very powerful and in most cases it takes another person’s help to break free from them. The user needs to aim well to make sure they don’t accidentally bind together the wrong things. By waving their finger around before the 2nd snap the user can subtly manipulate how the chains are formed, such as wrapping them around the arms of someone.

The quirk is mainly used to bind enemies to the ground or nearby walls, but the user can also tie their legs together to keep them immobile or tie together multiple enemies to create chaos. The user can also use the shackles to lock down areas (by forming shackles around a doorway) or use the shackles for climbing like climbing a rope. Do you think this would be overpowered in the verse? If so, what would you change about it?

So I think that the general idea could work, but it could use some changes. My big issue is having it be based on stamina as a limit. As the Quirk is now, it seems like a good controlling and capturing option. And having it work off stamina is a really easy drawback to train and work around. With this, it just seems like it'd quickly turn into something the user can easily spam. Which can be an issue with an effect that can lock people down like that so easily, and if the chains are that strong. The idea isn't bad. I just think it needs a new dynamic. Relying on the user being able to time and position their shots to make the most of the shackles is a good start. As well as having a time limit on them. I would have something about the range and how close their shots have to be together to activate. Not only because that feels kind of important in a Quirk like this, but it could make for a good downside as well. Make it something like five or so feet apart from one another, really pushing just how much the user's accuracy matters. Another alternative is to just limit how many shackle points the user can make. Like they can only make up to twenty shackle points. Something that can keep them from just spamming these out all over the place.

[reverseenchancia]

"Chains of Kindness"

Verse 1:

In the heart of winter's chill

Where Tynklis' shadows linger still

A spark of kindness starts to glow

Melting ice and thawing snow

Chorus:

Every act of love we share

Breaks a chain of dark despair

Link by link, we set hearts free

Building our community

Wassailia's magic strong and true

Transforms the old into the new

With every kindness that we do

We forge a world of love anew

Verse 2:

A helping hand, a gentle word

The sweetest music ever heard

Each gesture, big or small it be

Unlocks a heart and sets it free

(Repeat Chorus)

Bridge:

From Strella's light to Tynklis' shade

We choose the bonds that we have made

In reaching out to those in need

We plant compassion's powerful seed

Verse 3:

The chains that bind us fall away

As kindness guides us day by day

In giving, we receive so much

The healing power of love's touch

(Repeat Chorus)

Verse 4:

So let your kindness freely flow

Like starlight on the purest snow

For in this season's gentle grace

We find our strength in love's embrace

Final Chorus:

Every act of love we share

Breaks a chain of dark despair

Link by link, we set hearts free

Building our community

Wassailia's magic strong and true

Transforms the old into the new

With every kindness that we do

We forge a world of love anew

Outro:

Chain by chain, and heart by heart

A new Wassailia we will start

Where kindness reigns forevermore

And love unlocks each shuttered door

[spontaneousglitterbees]

Trying to upload once a week on YT and I haven't even made the trackart, but I'm excited about this one if anyone knows where to find a higher quality off vocal please let me know

EDIT: Trackart and lyrics!

Part of the Evillious Chronicles by mothy(AkunoP) Referenced pricechecktranslations' transcript and octosan's translyrics UST by by NeeMiSo Cover, Mix, Thumbnail + Trackart, Translyrics by glitterbees

Notes!

I'd be remiss not to thank octosan for their translyric of "Madam Merry-Go-Round is she" in the chorus, which proceeded to get stuck in my head for several days straight until I made this.

I gave Alice the royal We both in reference to her position, Queen of Levianta, and the OSS novels.

This is also where I had a bit of fun with host/ess as in 'hosting a party' and host as in 'a whole host of people'. Happy coincidence!

Also given the novels and Alice's identity as MotC/Irina and variations therein: calling her a Clockwork gear seemed thematically and literally appropriate, like the figurine made to dance in a music box

Rather than noting how Alice's face is familiar, I leaned into the novels again (can you tell I just read Punishment and part of this is my processing it) with the way nobody has actually seen the queen's face in Quite Some Time. Until Gammon, anyway.

Alice's hands are certainly not pure by the end of Evillious, but technically time is transient here, making it impossible to know if this is facetious or not. Seemed apt. Plus holding a smile in your hands is just a dash of unreality that fits the vibe I think, as representation for the abstraction of interpersonal warmth and comfort

I'm still not positive just which "vow" Alice is talking about here, so I tried to leave it ambiguous

Final verse, same as the firt! Only with a few words mixed around, nodding to how on some level Alice is aware of her fate to repeat over. And over. And-

Where should we go next on our tour of Evillious?

Lyrics!

Welcome, all, to your new happy place! Pardon Us as We undo these chains binding you to one time and space.

Here's a tip from your Host: See the house brimming with ghosts! Give the ferris wheel a spin, don't be shy, tonight is yours so strap in.

But hey, if you find you need a break from the flurry of fun and games, our cold cradle will hold your weary frame….

Madam Merry Go Round are We, Ruling the park as the reigning queen. Madam Merry Go Round are We, always caught in the same machine.

From the top of the carousel you see in ever shifting Utopian glee…

Madam Merry Go Round are We, spinning through all the old worlds debris. Madam Merry Go Round are We. Nonetheless, We keep the same routine.

Round and round as it whirls fro and to, don't fret about a thing that you thought you knew!

So then if you want your wish to come true, I'm afraid you'll have to wait. So sit back, relax, and join in the queue.

What's that gleaming through the shade, but the famed Shadow Parade? They've been marching their whole lives to the beat of an end they've yet to find.

And as the clock strikes the midnight hour, see, desire for this in your power! It's just the role of your Hostess to oblige….

Madam Merry Go Round are We, Beautiful face hidden by a screen. Madam Merry Go Round are We, lost as a forgotten memory.

In her hands pure as driven snow, there she holds a smile warm and amiable.

Madam Merry Go Round are We. Even if you think your love is key, Madam Merry Go Round are We. Those fleeting feelings are all a dream.

As a vow made between two on both sides never lasted for long and was left behind….

Madam Merry Go Round are We, Ruling this land as the reigning queen. Madam Merry Go Round are We, Clockwork gear trapped in the machine.

At the top of the carousel you see, in ever rhyming Utopian glee,

Madam Merry Go Round are We. Spinning on through the new world's debris, Madam Merry Go Round are We. Every cycle the same routine.

Even if you have no way home, You should have known the only fault here's your own!

[tayrowulf]

Verse 1:

In a world so cruel, where hearts grow cold,

Where dreams we cherish start to erode,

A longing stirs within our souls,

To break these chains and seek freedom's hold.

Verse 2:

Oh, the modern world, a web it weaves,

Where shadows creep and innocence grieves.

But amidst the chaos, a glimmer shines bright—

A yearning for solace, a beacon of light.

Chorus:

Sail away, sail away, on a ship to the sea,

Where the winds whisper freedom, and hearts can be free.

Leave behind the shackles that bind you so tight,

Embrace the ocean's embrace under moonlight.

Verse 3:

The city streets echo with despair,

As people rush by, too busy to care.

But out on the waves, the salty air pure,

We find our refuge, our spirits secure.

Verse 4:

In the vast expanse of the open sea,

The waves become our symphony.

The rhythm of tides calls us near,

To a world untamed, where dreams appear.

Chorus:

Sail away, sail away, on a ship to the sea,

Where the winds whisper freedom, and hearts can be free.

Leave behind the shackles that bind you so tight,

Embrace the ocean's embrace under moonlight.

Verse 5:

As the sun sets low, painting the sky,

We find our peace as the world passes by.

In unity, we stand with ocean's might—

A dance of harmony under starry light.

Verse 6:

For in this voyage, we discover anew

The strength within, the courage to pursue

A life unburdened by modern strife,

Where the soul finds solace and spirit finds life.

Chorus:

Sail away, sail away, on a ship to the sea,

Where the winds whisper freedom, and hearts can be free.

Leave behind the shackles that bind you so tight,

Embrace the ocean's embrace under moonlight.

Bridge:

Oh, let the waves carry sorrows away,

Let the sea's embrace wash troubles astray.

We'll chart our own course, defy currents of fear,

On this ship of freedom, our dreams draw near.

Chorus:

Sail away, sail away, on a ship to the sea,

Where the winds whisper freedom, and hearts can be free.

Leave behind the shackles that bind you so tight,

Embrace the ocean's embrace under moonlight.

Verse 7:

In this modern world, where cruelty hides,

Our ship sails strong with hope as our guide.

Through tempests and trials, we'll weather each storm,

Bound for a realm where true freedom is born.

Outro:

Sail away, sail away, on a ship to the sea,

Where the winds whisper freedom, and hearts can be free.

Leave behind the shackles that bind you so tight,

Embrace the ocean's embrace under moonlight.

[quills-oc-blog]

FINALLY finished the combat form redesigns of roswell, prada, and roxanne! info down below!!! ↓

THE FIREBIRD — Roswell Mirrano

roswell is a phoenix, and his undead form reflects the flow of the fire in the fabrics of his clothing. i wanted darker colors for the clothing because the wings(and somewhat the hair) really are the star of the show here. his design is based heavily in themes of east asian mythology, and as an added detail(that i'm mentioning here so nobody yells at me), i made his kimono-like collar crossed right-over-left instead of vice versa, since. y'know. he is dead.

the most fun part of roswell as the firebird to me is that the firebird's instincts directly conflict with the type of character roswell is established to be. while roswell prides himself on being gentle, kindhearted, and patient, the firebird is a mindless, violent vessel of bloodlust. in order to be any sense of effective in combat, he needs someone that he loves and trusts to direct him, since it's difficult to think in that form. perhaps it's what makes him and prada such a good team.

roswell keeps his weapon in this form quite basic, as most combat prowess lies in his sharp claws and talons, and the fire that encapsulates his wings. however, he does also occasionally use a staff often seen in the japanese combat sport of kendo.

THE LICH QUEEN — Prada Emery

prada has been undead the longest of the three, and possesses great control over her abilities. she's the only character to be capable of using some of her abilities while disguised(while the other two have to enter their undead forms to use their abilities).

liches are beings that thrive around rules. the most common practice for a lich to gain power and strength is by collecting souls via contracts. a contract signed in lich blood is physically binding, in that it renders both parties physically incapable of breaking the terms themselves. as such, many liches quickly become well-versed in the design of loopholes to better retain the souls they collect- if a contract is broken(which it can only be by external means), the recipient has their soul returned to them, and the lich loses the power they have gained from said soul.

prada, having gained her contracts through the record label she owns, possesses great power and hundreds of souls, leading her weapon- a scythe with a handle of bone- to become quite large indeed.

her design, particularly the corset of bone, takes inspiration from common depictions of liches in media- a decrepit skeletal monstrosity desperately clinging to life. the shackles are a callback to a previous iteration of her weapon, which were two giant magic chains she would dual wield as whips.

THE SENTINEL — Roxanne Mirrano

surprisingly enough, roxanne was the first character i drew for this. granted that the previous iteration of ice sprite roxanne was just 'roxanne but physically made of ice', i felt she desperately needed something more interesting going on- and this is what i ended up with!

i wanted to go for a more military-like vibe, playing into the uniform rigidity of ice as an idea throughout the design. roxanne, despite being undead the least amount of time, is incredibly strong. she could very well be using underhanded tactics to gain power(and who would put it past her?), but it may also simply be her own convictions.

i did worry about whether making her hair longer would take away from her design- one of roxanne's most iconic traits is her signature short hair, but in the end i'm really glad i took the risk. it really does feel like a leveled up version of roxanne, doesn't it? her weapon took a bit to settle on, she was originally just a magic user, but with the militant look came the idea of a lance- giving her the sense of a medieval knight, just for all the wrong reasons. in my opinion, it fits her very well.

[overthinkingalchemist]

In Your Honor: Heartbreak Storytelling

"It's an album that appears to be telling a narrative: the story of a broken-hearted protagonist trying to navigate his confusing feelings in a lopsided relationship. Be it unrequited love or a toxic relationship, he struggles to get over this fractured connection that brings him anxiety and pain."

In Your Honor is, at first glance, your standard affair when it comes to Foo Fighters albums. Songs that speak in broad terms about feelings in relationships, with catchy guitar melodies, describe essentially the entire band’s discography. However, going back to it after the release of But Here We Are, an album with clear strong overarching themes of grief, made me appreciate the progression of emotions evoked in each of the songs a lot more. Particularly interesting is the fact that In Your Honor, in its first disc, seems to also have an overarching theme. It’s an album that appears to be telling a narrative: the story of a broken-hearted protagonist trying to navigate his confusing feelings in a lopsided relationship. Be it unrequited love or a toxic relationship, he struggles to get over this fractured connection that brings him anxiety and pain.

It all starts with the eponymous first track, In Your Honor — and it starts with the description of complete and utter devotion of the speaker towards this other party. And I mean some truly rock-bottom stuff; our guy is willing to outright DIE for them. There are no boundaries. As it is said in the lyrics “mine is your and yours is mine, there is no divide”. The protagonist doesn’t know who he is apart from the object of his devotion and he’s screaming towards the skies for anyone who’ll listen. Such is the emotional weight, that his life doesn’t matter apart from them.

“I will sacrifice In your honor, I would die tonight For you to feel alive”

No Way Back follows closely on the same track, but with a new sense of urgency. Maybe a bit of insecurity has creeped in, and now we’re looking for reassurance. Living in his head, pleading for a sign that he’s not fighting for nothing, he wants a response and some recognition for his love.

“I'm dying for truth Make me believe No more left and right, come on, take my side I'm fighting for you, I'm fighting for you”

It’s despair fueled by the thought that maybe things aren’t what they seemed to him. But the speaker has gone too far into his devotion, and he now knows it, but he’s still trying to bargain and get his acknowledgement. He is “breaking things” he “can’t repair”, because... well, there’s no way back from loving this person. The feelings are here and at full force, consuming his thoughts, in a borderline pathological sense.

Now, before paying close attention to the lyrics, the transition to Best of You can be a bit strange. At least sonically, it can feel like the album would flow better by going straight into DOA. But of course, in this narrative that we’re piecing together, there’s no better time for Best of You to come into play. This absolute ANTHEM represents the point of realization, where the protagonist comes to understand the one-sided nature of his love. And this realization is very much in everyone’s faces, as the first verse starts with a “confession” of how far they’ve fallen. In this moment of lucidity, there comes a want to break away from the chains that bind him to this unhealthy attachment. The protagonist feels like a fool, stuck between “life or death” — which is understandable after investing so much into something and getting your hopes suddenly swept off your feet. Seeing through the cracks, he wants to make an effort to regain his agency in life, validate his feelings, and heal. He uses chains, ropes, and death as analogies for the weight of his feelings, as he declares that this pain is a very real pain. And it is. Whether his agony is brought by his own doing as he obsesses over an unrequited love and feels hurt for being unwanted, or by being put-down by a toxic relationship, his feelings are real and need to be validated before he can go on a path of healing. It’s very appropriate for Best of You to be the most popular song from the album, as it perfectly encapsulates its feelings and conflict as a whole, bringing an intense and emotionally charged basis for it to build upon.

"He uses chains, ropes, and death as analogies for the weight of his feelings, as he declares that this pain is a very real pain. And it is."

DOA is a breaking point. Lover-guy has had it of his suffering and wants to tell everyone that he will move on. Imbued with some false confidence, even the song adopts a relatively fun, playful sound to represent this façade of a nonchalant attitude. But on top of that, a lot of aggression seeps in, as the protagonist antagonizes the other party (perhaps to make it easier to justify his feelings of hurt). After seeing through his situation, he regains a bit of his power, as he recognizes that he fell from grace, knows he must get out of this mental space and feels great for already taking the first steps to get away from it. And he does so by severing his ties to his love as best as he can for now.

“I'm finished, I'm getting you off my chest, made you come clean in a dirty dress” - Verse 2

“Take a good hard look for the very last time The very last one in a very long line Only took a second to say goodbye Been a pleasure, but the pleasure's been mine, all mine” -Verse 3

The following three songs seem to put the speaker in an anxious thought loop; they are a little chronologically disconnected, as if he is going back and forth on his thoughts as he tries to reframe his feelings, but he ends up getting caught further in them. The first one in the sequence is Hell, where the protagonist adopts an extremely cynical view on the relationship: “I’ll be right there, the buzz inside your head […] see you in hell”. Hell frames his experience as a toxic battle; the two parties in the relationship don’t want to break away from each other (he is still in their “spell”, after all), but the flame between them isn’t passion, but a burning hellscape.

The Last Song is as straightforward — if not more — as Hell. This time it’s about a clear desire to break off from this person. The interactions are too conflictive and out of sync to handle (maybe that’s the hellscape we’ve been described before), so the protagonist is swearing to not speak of them again, as this is “the last song” about them. This might not be true because, even here, he says that they only “pretend it doesn’t matter”. It’s not easy; there are still feelings that bind. And this is further explored in Free Me, where the lyrics seem to evoke all the bad feelings and triggers that this rupture brings them. Their problems unresolved, unspoken, as the hurt buried deep within isn’t convenient to handle or bring up. Now is the time the protagonist screams at the top of his voice his desire to be free, to break the chains that he’s seen since Best of You. And he suggests that the other party should do the same.

“All of the words that we dare never speak All of our ghosts and the secrets we keep Gather them all, and we'll bury them deep Like a safe full of sorrow” -Verse 1

“Can you free what's keeping you? Well, I need somebody to” -Post-chorus

After what is essentially the climax of his anxiety and anguish, the speaker finally sees some relief and solace, softening up and looking back on his experiences in a more positive light in Resolve. Adopting perhaps a more mature outlook after some time and distance has been put from the relationship, the protagonist reflects on his past and reframes his experiences as part of life. The good, the bad... it was all necessary for his growth. He fully understands and accepts where he stands at this moment, which isn’t to say he is “through” everything; a part of him still wishes things were easier and it still hurts to distance himself from something that he was so attached to and that he used to wish worked differently, but he is wiser from it and is finally ready to move forward. Still, he looks for that resolve to keep going and learn to be himself again.

“Looking back to find my way never seemed so hard Yesterday's been laid to rest, changing of the guard I would never change a thing even if I could All the songs we used to sing, everything was good”

The Deepest Blues Are Black paints one of the most beautiful visual analogies from the Foo Fighters. The protagonist reflects on the lost love; perhaps some reconciliation happened, or the person still occupies some space on his mind. Either way, a bittersweet wave of feelings floods his thoughts. It’s undeniable that he loves or loved this person, even after all the pain and resentment he felt, so thinking about what could have been stings. And whenever he feels this person’s warmth, the qualities he admires and their seductive features, he compares those to the vast alluring blue sea. But just like the beauty of the sea, the bitter nostalgia and the overwhelming amounts of jealousy brought by those feelings can shroud him in darkness — and drown him — if he goes too deep. He thinks about how his loved one can easily seduce someone and move on from him, and it eats at him to think about how they’re with someone else. Even if it couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t work between them… it sucks.

“Shame on you, seducing everyone You faded jewel, you diamond in the rough You don't have to tell me, I know where you've been Shining once again” - Verse 1

“The deeper the blues, the more I see black Sweeter the bruise, the feeling starts coming back All the deepest blues are black” - Chorus

And finally, End Over End is the way out. The album’s closer hits with a subtle confidence; its soundscape brings a calm but firm resolve. End Over End is hope. Hope to rise again amongst the good memories. Taking what’s good, leaving what holds you back, learning, and evolving from the pain. A new beginning is due, but renewal comes with change, time, and distance. As the experiences mold the protagonist into someone new, and hopefully better, he reflects on how he’s older and “worn” out. Marked from the past, but eager for the future.

“I'm a revolvin' door I've seen it all before I will begin again But I can't start until I've seen the end” - Verse 1

“I’m feeling out of luck Maybe I just feel too much That old familiar touch Will always sting my skin” -Verse 3

End Over End gives the album a sense of finality and renewal. The protagonist understands that there is a possibility to move on and rebuild himself if he lets time do its thing and hangs onto hope. This isn’t an ending per se; as the title itself suggests, life is a cycle of cycles. Ups and downs have taught him everything that makes him who he is. With his new sense of self, the protagonist can now keep looking for his place and his happiness — and the Foo Fighters can keep evolving and trying new things and new stories. But after all he's been through and survived… I think he’ll be ok.

“The good in everyone The ties we've left undone The heart that moves your blood All the things that bring me right back here” -Verse 3

Now, whether the band actually thought of weaving this continuous narrative at any point during production is an unknown. It is possible that they had entirely different experiences in their heads while writing this, and just as is the beauty of art, the open-ended nature of their lyrics can always evoke different feelings on the listener. So, have no worries, this isn’t me trying to decipher any “true” meanings, but rather explore a specific way to listen to and experience the album.

To be the eternally in love person, wallowing in their fantasies of heartbreak mixed with what could have been… it’s tacky, but I’d be lying if I said I don’t romanticize some pathological passion. To feel like something means so much that it consumes you and transforms you into someone new and evolved is an immensely powerful feeling that can, in a way, sum up what it is to truly live. To dream, to be vulnerable, to be disappointed, to be hurt, to change and grow; all of those are moments that can cause pain but remind us of our humanity. And maybe there aren’t many that could capture this with the needed intensity as well as the Foo Fighters.

[zorkaya-moved]

navigation: death under waxing moon.

This verse alternates the spoken canon about the sorcerers & curses outside Japan being almost non-existent.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐝. 𝐔𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥, 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝.

Title: Ice Queen  Age: 28 years old, July 27th, Leo Ancestors: Chernobog and Morana (sorcerers turned vengeful spirits) Grade: Special Grade Innate Technique: Death In Winter

To speak simply and to, later on, write it better in another headcanon, Zarina’s cursed energy transforms into ice, she is able to create a variety of tools and even ‘living’ and ‘acting’ figures such as animals or even humans. Her technique can also apply either ‘stagnation’ state or ‘fragile’ state on her enemies but only one at a time due to complications of such technique. 

Domain Expansion: Eternal Slumber of Death;

Full description: TO BE UPDATED.

Incantation: All are equal before Death.

Heavenly Restriction: Inability to use the fire-related techniques passed down in the family in exchange for enhanced ice technique; emotional detachment in exchange for control of emotions and cursed energy. 

Binding Vow: Limitation of cursed energy based on ‘chains’ (accessories). Zarina binds her powers and her cursed energy based on how many accessories she wears (she wears 9 at all time but may wear 10 to fully be seen as if a normal person), each accessory limiting ten percent of her power. 

𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐙𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐒.

o1. The main history behind this verse: Background information and the story.

o2. The curse of Morana: the ancestry, the relation, and the effect on Zarina’s life as a sorcerer.  TO BE REWRITTEN/UPDATED.

o3. Morana’s Doll: What will happen when the seal breaks down? How will it affect Zarina? Why is she in such hurry? UPDATED.

o4. “I’m glad Gojo Satoru was born.” What does this phrase mean?

o5. Morana's Doll: The location of the doll at the beginning and middle of the manga. (TBA)

o6. (Ten) Nine limiters of powers: What are Zarina's 'limiters'? How do they affect others' perception on her power level and what they do to her powers?

o7. Reputation: How others view Zarina? What others whisper about her? What information is fully available from her reputation?

[clivedobson]

Harmony's Dawn 1 #AI #Song by #Suno #lyrics by #Grok #music #newmusic

K*Title "Harmony's Dawn"* #AI #Song by #Suno #lyrics by #Grok #music #newmusic

*Grok*

*Country dubstep, drum and bass, edm*

*Instrumental intro*

*Instrumental interlude*

*(Verse 1)*

In a world of greed, where the shadows fall,

Capitalism’s chains bind us one and all.

Competition breeds war, jealousy’s flame,

Nationalist borders fuel hate and shame.

The environment shapes us, it twists our souls,

Turns hearts to stone, leaves the world full of holes.

But we see a vision, a brighter way,

The Venus Project lights a brand-new day.

*(Chorus)*

Rise for a Resource based dream, let’s break the cage,

A moneyless world, turn a brand-new page.

No war, no strife, no nationalist pride,

A resource-based love where all can reside.

Sustainable, peaceful, abundant, and free,

Abolish the systems that blind you and me.

Together we’ll build it, hand in hand,

A happy, green world in a unified land.

Forward to Harmony's Dawn

*(Verse 2)*

Capitalists hoard while the planet cries,

Their profits are built on a mountain of lies.

Nationalism divides us, it sparks the fight,

Pits brother ‘gainst brother in endless night.

Envy and scarcity, they’re born of this game,

A toxic environment fans every flame.

But we can reshape it, rewrite the code,

Create a new path down a brighter road.

*(Chorus)*

Rise for a Resource based dream, let’s break the cage,

A moneyless world, turn a brand-new page.

No war, no strife, no nationalist pride,

A resource-based love where all can reside.

Sustainable, peaceful, abundant, and free,

Abolish the systems that blind you and me.

Together we’ll build it, hand in hand,

A happy, green world in a unified land.

Forward to Harmony's Dawn

*(Bridge)*

No more flags to wave, no more bombs to drop,

No markets to crash, let the madness stop.

The Earth is our home, it’s all that we share,

With science and love, we’ll rebuild with care.

The Venus Project calls, it’s time to unite,

To heal every wound in the soft morning light.

Environment shapes us, so let’s make it pure,

A world built on trust, where all hearts endure.

*(Chorus)*

Rise for a Resource based dream, let’s break the cage,

A moneyless world, turn a brand-new page.

No war, no strife, no nationalist pride,

A resource-based love where all can reside.

Sustainable, peaceful, abundant, and free,

Abolish the systems that blind you and me.

Together we’ll build it, hand in hand,

A happy, green world in a unified land.

Forward to Harmony's Dawn

*(Outro)*

So let’s tear it down, the old ways must fall,

No capitalists, nationalists, ruling us all.

The Venus Project shines, it’s ours to create,

A world without havoc, no sorrow, no hate.

With abundance and peace, we’ll dance in the sun,

A resource-based future where all are as one.

Oh, Harmony's Dawn, we’re coming, your dream we’ll ignite,

For a world full of love in eternal light.

*Instrumental interlude*

*Instrumental interlude*

*Instrumental interlude*

*Instrumental outro*

www.thevenusproject.com

www.resourcebasedeconomy.org

www.youtube.com/@clivedobson8656

[christian-perspectives]

The Anger Of God

In Psalm 2, the Psalmist said the nations were angry. They directed their anger straight toward God. According to the rest of the verse, they wasted their time. Why are the nations so angry? Why do they waste their time with futile plans? Psalms 2:1 Those living during the days of the Old Covenant usually served multiple gods. Israel, however, knew God because He designated their father Abraham and his seed as His chosen people. How would today's United States fare if it existed under the Old Covenant? Its forefathers founded this country as one nation under God. But today, it not only serves many gods but has also become self-serving. In the eyes of God, we have developed into a spiritually lukewarm nation, much like the church in Laodicea. But since you are like lukewarm water, neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth! Revelation 3:16 Many nations feared the God of Israel because of how He delivered the Israelites out of bondage from Egypt. In fact, many of those ungodly nations no longer exist today. Free eBook If we were under the Old Covenant today, how would the United States fare? Its forefathers founded this country as one nation under God. But today it not only serves many gods but is self-serving as well. We have become a nation that in God’s eyes is spiritually lukewarm like the church in Laodicea. But since you are like lukewarm water, neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth! Revelation 3:16 The writer of Psalm 2 gave a word of encouragement to the nations. He then followed it up with a warning. Now then, you kings, act wisely! Be warned, you rulers of the earth! Psalm 2:10 Some nations, however, arrogantly decided to go against God in battle. With their combined strengths, the kings and rulers thought they could beat God. The kings of the earth prepare for battle; the rulers plot together against the Lord and against his anointed one. Psalm 2:2 In the third verse, the writer observed them hatching a plot to free themselves from God. They felt like the Lord had them in bondage. So, they planned to break the chains that held them. Let us break their chains," they cry, "and free ourselves from slavery to God. Psalm 2:3 Those Chained by God We can read of a couple of instances in the Word where God did bind some beings with chains. He didn't chain people. He chained Satan and fallen angels. - And I remind you of the angels who did not stay within the limits of authority God gave them but left the place where they belonged. God has kept them securely chained in prisons of darkness, waiting for the great day of judgment. Jude 1:6 - He seized the dragon—that old serpent, who is the devil, Satan—and bound him in chains for a thousand years. Revelation 20:2 If angelic beings couldn't break out of God's chains, what chance do mere humans have? I could just see Him chuckling at them from heaven, followed by the rebuking anger of God. But the one who rules in heaven laughs. The Lord scoffs at them. Then in anger he rebukes them, terrifying them with his fierce fury. Psalm 2:4-5 The Lord placed His Son on the Throne and declared Him the chosen king. Because of His power and strength, He told the earthly kings, in so many words, to straighten up. Now then, you kings, act wisely! Be warned, you rulers of the earth! Psalm 2:10 Benefits of the New Covenant Of course, the benefits of living under the New Covenant far outweigh the old one. In the Old Covenant, no one had fellowship with God except His chosen people, Israel. In the new one, we all have access to get into heaven. Jesus made it possible when He died on the cross. How? By becoming God's ultimate sacrifice, He fulfilled all of the Old Testament law. Thus, God opened the way for everyone to accept what Jesus accomplished when He conquered sin and death. When we accept Christ, the Bible tells us that salvation comes to us by His grace. Therefore, because of the patience of God, He has laid aside His anger until the very end. Instead of punishing us, God has made a way for us to grow closer to Him. Because of God's grace and mercy, He also sent us His Spirit. The Holy Spirit comforts and guides us by His power. We have a new birth and a new life through the Holy Spirit. When God our Savior revealed his kindness and love, he saved us, not because of the righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He washed away our sins, giving us a new birth and new life through the Holy Spirit. He generously poured out the Spirit upon us through Jesus Christ our Savior. Titus 3:4-6 Grace and Mercy from God instead of His Anger Grace and mercy are wonderful attributes that God has offered to the world in these last days. Sadly, it can also be the downfall for many people because they refuse to accept them. People today live their lives filled with sin and immorality without suffering any consequences. They believe that since God doesn't stop them, He must accept their lifestyle. Let me assure you that God's wrath remains active, just as it was in the Old Testament. Only for us, while living on this earth, God focuses more on His grace than on His anger. In eternity, however, God puts aside His grace and mercy and even His anger. He'll replace them with His justice. Those who feel they have gotten away with their sins will face judgment. The books were opened, including the Book of Life. And the dead were judged according to what they had done, as recorded in the books. And anyone whose name was not found recorded in the Book of Life was thrown into the lake of fire. Revelation 20:12,15 God's justice will eventually result in eternal life or eternal damnation. In other words, every person will do one or the other. They will enjoy living in God's presence or suffer His wrath. The Remedy for Sin The Psalmist submitted a similar warning to the nations and their rulers. Through warnings, God, without anger, has a plan, and one day it will suddenly go into action. Serve the Lord with reverent fear, and rejoice with trembling. Submit to God's royal son, or he will become angry, and you will be destroyed in the midst of all your activities. Psalm 2:11-12 If you want to move past the anger of God, then submit to God's royal Son, Jesus. When you submit to his royal Son, then you will experience everlasting joy.   But what joy for all who take refuge in him! Psalm 2:12 Lord, thank you for your grace and mercy. Help us to share your goodness effectively with others. We have read about your anger, God. We don't want to face you at the White Throne. Check out these related posts on God and anger. - Are You One Who Has Aroused God’s Anger Lately? - Is There Such A Thing As Holy Anger? Read the full article

[babypsycho24]

"Ride or die, we’re in this for life,  

No turning back, we cut through the strife!"

---

**Verse 1:**  

Yeah, we started from the bottom, just a couple of dreams,  

Now we’re breaking the surface, tearing at the seams.  

Side by side, through the fire we roam,  

Ain't no stopping us now, we’re making it home.  

Heartbeats thumping like the bass in the night,  

With you by my side, we’re ready to fight.  

No fear in my heart, we’re a force to be reckoned,  

Together we rise, like a phoenix in the second.  

In the shadows, we hustle, in the light, we shine,  

You’re my ride or die, forever you’re mine.  

---

**Chorus/Hook:**  

(Heavy guitar riffs)  

Ride or die, we’re never letting go,  

Through the highs and lows, we steal the show.  

When the world gets tough, we stay on the grind,  

Together forever, true love intertwined.  

Ride or die, we’re writing our fate,  

No matter the struggle, we’ll never break.  

---

**Verse 2:**  

Rolling through the chaos, we break the mold,  

Every scar tells a story, every truth unfolds.  

With the wind in our hair, we’re chasing the thrill,  

Living for the moment, we’re climbing that hill.  

Behind every corner, danger might lurk,  

But with you by my side, I’m ready to work.  

We’re the kings and queens of this asphalt jungle,  

No chains can bind us, no way we’ll stumble.  

Through the storms and the shadows, we’ll carry the light,  

Ride or die forever, let’s take on the night.  

---

**Chorus/Hook:**  

(Heavy guitar riffs)  

Ride or die, we’re never letting go,  

Through the highs and lows, we steal the show.  

When the world gets tough, we stay on the grind,  

Together forever, true love intertwined.  

Ride or die, we’re writing our fate,  

No matter the struggle, we’ll never break.  

---

**Bridge:**  

(Spoken or melodic section)  

In this life, we’re the warriors, no retreat,  

Facing every challenge, we refuse to accept defeat.  

Through the chaos and the pain, we find our way,  

With you, I’m alive, in this game we play.  

---

**Verse 3:**  

So here’s to the nights we’ll never forget,  

The laughter, the tears, the love that we met.  

With a heart full of courage, we’ll take on the world,  

Together as one, watch our destiny unfurled.  

No matter the distance, we’re never apart,  

In this ride-or-die life, you’re my beating heart.  

So let’s raise a glass to the battles we've won,  

In this wild ride, our journey’s just begun.  

---

**Chorus/Hook:**  

(Heavy guitar riffs)  

Ride or die, we’re never letting go,  

Through the highs and lows, we steal the show.  

When the world gets tough, we stay on the grind,  

Together forever, true love intertwined.  

Ride or die, we’re writing our fate,  

No matter the struggle, we’ll never break.  

---

**Outro:**  

(Spoken)  

"Together forever, it’s you and I,  

In this ride or die life, we’ll always fly high!"

### Melody Ideas

- **Intro:** Start with a heavy guitar riff to set the tone.

- **Verses:** A rhythmic, syncopated delivery with a strong beat; consider using a half-time feel.

- **Chorus:** Catchy and anthemic, with a sing-along quality. You might want to mix in some melodic hooks.

- **Bridge:** A more melodic section, giving a breather before the final verses

[ammcgee-author]

249. WriteCream: “Philosophy of Poetry” (AI Generated Poem #2)

“In hallowed realms of thought, where words ignite, a tapestry of love, a luminous flight. Poetry, thine essence, boundless and grand, An elixir divine, the soul's demand. Philosophy's embrace, a quest for truth, Essence of being, unbound from youth. Ethereal musings, dreams in flight, Questions that pierce the darkest night. You challenge assumptions, provoke the mind, Perspectives shift, new horizons aligned. Inquiry's fire, an ardent first, Unveiling beauty, quenching thirst. Provocateur of thought, a rebel's art, Symbols and stanzas, a symphony of heart. Verse and metaphor, woven with care, God whispers, and the glowing angels flare. Soul's music, an orchestra of grace, Inspiring our hearts, a sacred space. The power of words, a touchstone so true, Reflections mirrored, introspection's hue. Poetry, love's nectar, a timeless art, A sanctuary for the mind, a balm for the heart. In its embrace, we find solace and light, A beacon of hope, dispelling the night. So let us dance, dear love, in this realm of verse; Where words ignite, and hearts immerse. Poetry, our passion, our eternal guide, In its warm embrace, our love shall forever reside.

Poetry's essence, both ethereal and rare, With questions that challenge assumptions, ideals, and egos’ laid bare. In stanzas and verses, thoughts take flight, Symbolism paints pictures, of darkness and light. Like music, it inspires and provokes, Elevating souls and breaking old yokes. A power that reflects, introspects, and blooms, Guiding us to truths beyond our earthly tombs. Poetry reveals the depths of the human heart, Whispers of divinity, where love's purest flames start. It speaks of innocence, ethereal and pure; in the spirit's journey, forever secure. So let us embrace this art, with hearts wide open, In the sanctuary of words, love's secrets are spoken. For poetry is a prism, revealing the light, Of the soul's endless quest, shining ever so bright.

With quill in hand, a poet's soul unfurls, A tapestry of emotions, like precious pearls. Philosophy, the musings of the mind, A love that seeks the truth, always with us, yet shy and hard to find. In our essence, the core of being, pure and bright, A love that shines, dispelling darkest night. An ethereal love that's light and free, Soaring high, for all the world to see. Questions arise, like whispers in the air, A love that challenges, a truth beyond compare. The Status quo, the chains that bind so tight; blind us to the love that breaks free, taking flight.

Assumptions challenged, perspectives shift, A love that grows, a transformative gift. In out inquiry, a quest for knowledge deep, Lies the heart that seeks, its secrets it will keep. Provoke the mind, ignite the flame, A love that sparks, a passion without shame. Symbols dance, like whispers on the page, A love that speaks, anew, in every age. Stanzas flow, like rivers to the sea, A love that weaves, a unity. Verse by verse, a symphony of love, A tale of hearts, entwined in the clouds above. Built with metaphors, like stars that light the night, grows a love that's infinite, a wondrous sight. In the eyes of God, the source of love, the guiding light; resides the Soul, the fire that burns within, so pure and bright. Spirit, the essence of our being, free, A love that's eternal, just you and me. A love that's passionate, a blazing desire for all we see. With music, the language of the heart, so true, A love that sings, a melody for two.

Inspiration, the spark that sets the soul aflame, A idea that lifts, a love without a name. In power, the strength of love, so strong, A love that conquers, righting every wrong. In self-reflection, a journey to the depths within; A love that heals, where healing can begin. In our introspection, the key to self-discovery, A idea that grows, with each new mystery and misery. Angels, guardians of love's eternal flame, A love that's sacred, a once and holy claim. Despite demons, the shadows that we face, A love that triumphs, with with and without grace. Devils, the tempters who would lead us astray, A love that's steadfast, come whatever may. In the realm of words, love's tale unfolds, A symphony of passion, stories untold. Poetry, the language of the heart, A love that's eternal, a work of art.

Oh, poetry, my sweet muse divine, Your words ignite a fire within; and paint a vibrant tapestry of dreams. Your essence flows through every line, A symphony of passion, so pure and fine, You captivate each heart and mind, With metaphors that leave mere lovers blind. Your spirit whispers secrets untold, Of love and longing, so brave and bold; You challenge norms and break the mold, Expanding minds, letting odyssey’s unfold. Your words provoke, yet let us know what’s good and true; Through philosophy, you guide and help us through; The complexities of life, making us question all we knew.

Oh, Poetry, my love, my muse! In words, you weave a web that I peruse. With pen in hand, you paint emotions bright, A symphony of thoughts, a dazzling sight. Your heart, a vessel of uncharted seas, Where depths of feeling forever comfort me. Your soul, a tapestry of dreams unfurled, Where whispers of the soul enchant the world. Essence of my being, you stir my core; A symphony of metaphors, now and forevermore. In spirit, we dance, a cosmic flight, Where words ignite the flame of endless night. Challenge me, my love, with depths untold, Unraveling perspectives, in stories of old. Philosophy's embrace, a guiding star, Provoking thoughts that reach both near and far. Oh, Poetry, my love, my eternal guide; In you, I find my solace, my humility and pride. May our love remain forever bold, A timeless tale where hearts like words unfold.

Your words, a symphony so grand, Dance upon the page, hand in trembling hand. You cast a spell, and challenge me to think anew, To question all I've ever known as true. Your parables painting vivid scenes, Unveiling truths hidden within all men. Your philosophy, a guiding light, Illuminates my mind's darkest night. You exorcise my lurking fears, And bring my angels close — so close — I feel them here! You hold a mirror up to my soul, Reflecting thoughts that make me feel at once both new and whole. Your demons haunt me, but they're mine; They make me stronger, more divine. The restless Seraphim on high watch me from above, Protecting me with their spirits’ boundless love. You're my mirror, my intuition, My imagination's bright tuition. You're everything I ever want or need; My poetry, my love, my friend, my foe, my enemy and creed.”

— By WriteCream.com (AI Generated Poetry) Edited by A.M. McGee

[Notes & Commentary: This was my attempt to try to tease out what the AI “thinks” of poetry, or of the poetry it writes. Just like how my last AI Generated poem about machines replacing the some of the functions of the heart during heart-surgery shows that Science hasn’t quite been able to entirely replace all the functions of that human vital organ with artificial technology (at least, not yet,) this poem I feel proves that although artificial intelligence hasn’t quite been able to “think” or form opinions on its own, yet, it can grasp some of the basic fundamentals of Art, if only by word association. Though, just like the human heart (a much more simple organ than the brain) is more than a mere “pump”; I believe the mind is so much more than a mere computer or a machine… And it is that spark of life that gives feeling, meaning, and context to the written word that is what we may describe as the “spirit” or “soul.” Proving that, in the long run, machines are a poor replacement for the human heart or brain, even when being able to emulate some of their functions, albeit in a much more limited capacity.]