#Marie Vaunt

[tracksampm]

45 Minutes of Techno The Chosen Marie Vaunt Delusion Alex Stein Concentrate Carl Cox, Paul Oakenfold The Journey Lampe Roar Charlotte de Witte Bombay Mha Iri Faida feat. Frankie hi-nrg mc yofellas Existence Mha Iri Climax Teenage Mutants, Stoked Yeah Julian Jeweil

[shadowwarrior69]

(Marie Vaunt)

[trynafindbarbiee]

HOW I GOT INTO THE VOID STATE !

So here's what I did to get into the void

I gave myself some time...I took a week off from my school , I took a break from Tumblr !!

I made a routine for myself and Here it is :

I Don't gave a fuck to my failed attempts and told myself failure don't exist in my reality! I worked on myself for a week and half

I decided to affirm robotically and sometym with knowing for 10-20 mins every hour and I vaunted every night before going to sleep for 30 mins , I listened to @lotusmi ( her mirage sub since it contains DMT Frequency ) and beauty crystallized's void subliminal on loop overnight and slept while Affirming in head and in the daytime also when I was free ..I started to do mediation by Mary Kate daily in the morning and at night before going to sleep and did some stretching excercise for 10-15 mins to make myself feel good ( excercising improves ur brain health and makes u feel good all dag long by releasing feeling good hormones ) .... whenever any doubt comes in my head I just say "Fuckkk off! It's done , I'm so freaking happy ( Distraction technique by @remcycl333 ) and sometimes I would open my notes app and script about my void concept

I affirmed and listened to subs as much as I could...and few weeks ago I did the 10k challenge bef starting my routine and I think that also really helped me maybe!

I did this for a week and half ig , for the first three days I affirmed fory sc and then for the rest of the days I affirmed for vc

Ig I Explained too much 💀

HERE'S A SIMPLIFIED VERSION :

Staring from the morning

1. Do Mary Kate's manifesting mediation THIS ONE after that do some stretching exercises if u want ( not necessary tho )

2. Choose one Affirmation of ur liking and Affirm that every hour for 20 mins

3. During the day listen to a void subliminal as much as u can and script in ur notes app if u want

3. Now bef going to sleep vaunt about the void for atleast 30 mins ( I'll recommend to search for a void vaunt and take a ss of that and read that with feeling )

4. Do THIS mediation bef going to bed

5. Put on a void sub and and sleep while Affirming in ur head

6. REPEAT THE SAME FOR 7 DAYS!

AND I ALSO DID SOME EFT TAPPING EXCERCISE IN THE MORNING AFTER WAKING UP BUT I ONLY DID THAT FOR FEW MORNINGS , IF U WANT THEN U CAN ALSO DO THIS ...FOR THAT HAVE A LOOK TO THIS POST BY @asteriaas-stuffs → THIS ONE

Don't acknowledge ur negative thoughts coz they don't hold any power!! And lastly DELETE TUMBLR take a ss of this and save those videos after that just delete it

Don't waste ur time on Tumblr for God sake , watch ur fav movies , listen to ur fav music , go out for a walk , eat ur fav food , do whatever makes u feel happy genuinely for this whole week .

U can consider it as a VOID CHALLENGE

GOOD LUCK LOVIEESSS <33 Do keep me updated about how it goes 💗

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Made for Him I

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, blood and gore, violence, death, grief, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Peter finds himself alone after the loss of those around him, so he decides to find a cure to his grief.

Characters: Peter Parker

Note: I’m still very sick. I dug this out of my WiPs because I desperately wanna power through it.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.

Love you all like Garfield loves lasagna. Take care. 💖

The Creator

On July 8th, 1822, Percy Bysshe Shelley drowned just off the coast of Livorno. His wife was famous for the resurrection of the fictional monster and the misguided doctor for whom her penultimate novel was named. Peter cradled the very one in his hand, the spine bent and the pages well worn by his habitual delve into the horror of Victor Frankenstein. 

His readings were studious and almost religious in nature as he worshipped the pages alongside the library of textbooks, theses, and medical reports that lined the shelves of his office.

The foamy waters flowed in and wetted the sand around his toes as he sat close in the folding chair he brought out daily to bask in the hot Italian sun. Sometimes he let the book rest in his lap as he closed his eyes to the sun and wondered if it was near that very point that Mary’s husband met his tragic fate. If he lounged on the very sands he was said to have met his rumoured lover and another poet. The fantasy carried Peter away for a time only to send him crashing back down.

One year to the day he left New York and he was growing impatient. He’d waited long enough as his trust only matured on the day he got his final degree, the one with the three vaunted letters below the golden crest. The only remnant of his former mentor, the man who showed him that life could grow in a lab, though he had only ever rendered it in metal and code. 

Peter wanted more than the cold armour and robotic voices, he could take Stark’s legacy and give it true life. He knew he could.

More than creation, he wanted love. He wanted a stalwart he could depend on, not the flaky girl he met in high school who broke his heart. He wanted to take the fiction in his grasp and turn it into fact. He wanted the world to know that he was more than Tony Stark’s pity project, he was a reckoning.

He stood and folded up the chair, carrying it by the cloth handle as he kept the book open and walked blindly across the uneven sand. He was at his favourite part, where the monster hid in the barn and the inherent spark of kindness drove him to complete the chores of the overwrought family. 

Then there came the reality of a harsh and unloving world, one he swore to never let touch his creation. He would only give them love, give them the perfect life he longed to have. The one he could live, just not alone.

The stone steps led up to the open terrace of the beach house that looked out onto the hot Mediterranean shore. The place was isolated but lively as the songbirds nested in the trees and the sun was ever shining above. It was the perfect retreat for the retired Avenger. The world didn’t need him anymore, he was dispensable. That kid, Miles, took up the mantle and the world forgot about Peter Parker.

He set the wooden chair down against the wall as he entered through the slatted door and closed the book at last. He passed through the curved archways and entered the airy kitchen, the open windows letting in the balmy Italian breezes. 

He poured dark grinds into the drip percolator and waited for the strong espresso to seep through. He took his small cup when there was enough to savour and shifted it over to the island at the center of the space. 

He kicked aside the rug and bent to hook his fingers in the indent along the hatch and lifted it with a grunt. He reached for his mug and carefully descended. He sipped as he came to the bottom and flipped on the switch to light up the space.

Everything was laid out in eager preparation. Over a year’s worth of planning resided in his secret space. One wall was lined with the endless texts he poured over between spurts of exhaustion-laced sleep, on the other, a vast array of equipment including beakers, microscopes, surgical tools, a tome secreted from Strange’s panoply of mystic fascinations, and several monitors floating from metal arms drilled into the wall.

At the center of the room was a large metal bed, shining and sterile. All he needed was there, a collection started years before he even considered the Italian retreat. He swore that day when he was through the tears and wrenching heartache of abandonment that he would never be left alone again. Not after his parents, or Tony, or May or MJ. He was ready to give his life away; to give life.

He just needed the proper parts to do so.

🧪

The head was the hardest part. 

Not harder to find than the other pieces, each kept preserved in a special compartment to keep them from mortification. He harvested them quickly, his first few attempts at the morgue proving too late. So he frequented the hospitals, hiding in vents and other tight spaces, using those tricks from his days of heroics to go unseen in his diligent but grim work.

He found a few women he didn’t mind but they just weren’t right. He needed eyes that made him feel fuzzy and a smile that made his heart flutter. He came this far and wouldn’t settle for anything but perfection. 

He knew the moment he saw her; disguised in a set of scrubs and a surgical mask, his reddish brown hair hidden beneath a cap as he watched her wheeled by. He was there when they called it and the machines went silent. There wasn’t time to linger as the doctor and nurses were called to their next patient. 

Peter kept to the back and waited for the rest to disperse to the next code and shut the door. He hopped up and pushed in the ceiling tile, wiggling through to grab the cube hidden within and slipping back down. 

She looked peaceful as he opened the case, the cool fog rising from the top as he set it on the tray and rolled it around the bed. She died of an aneurysm, so sudden she didn’t have time to look petrified. It made him sad to think of a life extinguished in the bat of an eye. Even if it was to his benefit.

As he sterilized the saw he pulled from his canvas kit, he figured it was meant to be. She was gone too soon and he was in need of a pretty face. He placed the teeth of the blade to her neck and paused. He couldn’t wait much longer, he had to get it done or it would be another one for the bin.

He began the grizzly deed, careful to slice through as cleanly as possible. The blood leaked out into the white sheets and onto the pillow and as he detached her head completely, it turned to an ocean, spurting violently from her neck. He cradled her head as he slipped it into a plastic bag and sealed it before placing it in the refrigerated case. 

He closed it and slung the strap over his chest, lifting his arm to string a web to the open ceiling. He hauled himself into the vent and slid the tile back into place. He began the careful crawl, the final piece of the puzzle jostling on his shoulders. 

He would burn his gown, cap and mask when he got out, the iron scent of her blood was starting to make him sick.

🧪

Peter felt the cold even through the thermal layer of his suit. His visor allowed for him to pinpoint his focus on the precise merging of nerve ends and tight stitches of his intent assembly. The laboratory was kept below zero for his work to preserve the parts until he could revive them. 

He turned up the heat in his suit to keep from shivering as he feared a single mistake.

After several scans, Peter found the brain to be beyond repair. He was disappointed but he found an easy solution. He was reluctant to throw away the pretty face; the face that had come to colour his dreams. So he found a new brain instead, young and fresh, without a flaw. 

He found himself distracted by the long lashes as he fit her open skull with its new motor. If he thought of it as just another suit, it wasn’t as repulsive as blood stained the table and his gloves. 

He hunched over and worked at connecting the brain stem, switching out his tools and repositioning to keep from damaging the ridges. It was the most important part of the process and he didn’t want to try again. He couldn’t go through it again. This was it. He knew it by the way he just couldn’t stop seeing that face; in his dreams, in his waking thoughts, and in its case, awaiting rebirth.

He would give her a precious gift but she would give him more. How could she not love her creator? Her saviour.

Peter replaced the top of her skull and forged it back into place, the laser singing a line around her scalp. He had a collection of wigs she could wear until it grew back and he could graft on a new set of follicles if needed. He wanted her to feel as beautiful as he saw her.

Done, he stepped back and admired his work, twelve hours of intent and tedious labour over her. The pieces fit together well and he was hardly disappointed. He didn’t care that the stitches would leave scars like spider webs across her flesh. He thought that made her even more gorgeous. He could hardly keep from trembling in excitement.

He placed the metal band around her brow and the transmitter on her chest. Every nerve, every muscle, every part of her was hardwired with delicate attention. He knew he could bring her back. Victor Frankenstein would blush to see it done right.

Peter went to the computer as the hoop connected to the table scanned every inch of her and showed no error in his assembly. Her neural network looked like a roadmap and her body was still untouched by decay or rigor mortis. It was now or never.

He keyed in the final command and a sudden hum went through the lab. He winced as he felt a force flow through his suit in the frigid room and her body twitched as the transmitter pulsed at her chest and the ring around her head vibrated. He checked the screen as he waited for a response. He dragged his finger over the monitor to increase the power.

“Come on, please,” he begged the universe, “I did it. I know I di--”

The heart rate suddenly jumped from the glowing red zero to an orange forty-three, then sixty, peaking at a blue one hundred, and calming to a steady sixty-seven. The computer began to beep in time with her pulse and her brain turned to a sudden rainbow of activity. He glanced over at her but she remained unmoving.

He felt a squeezing pain in his chest. Did he miss something? Maybe he was wrong? Maybe it would always just be fiction, a fantasy. He would always be alone, always a failure. He came around the desk and went to the table and looked her over.

He touched her chest and felt the beating of her heart beneath the sensors and lifted his fingers below her nose. She was breathing. So why then, wouldn’t she wake up?

[krispyweiss]

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band at Nationwide Arena, Columbus, Ohio, April 21, 2024

As he led the E Street Band through “Twist and Shout,” Bruce Springsteen betrayed a roached voice much as John Lennon had when the Beatles cut their version 60 years earlier.

But, like Lennon’s, Springsteen’s voice benefitted from its battered state - conveying joy and conviction, not exhaustion.

The house lights were on and the heart-stoppin’, pants-droppin’, hard-rockin’, Earth-quakin’, booty-shakin’, love-makin’, Viagra-takin’, history-makin’ - legendary - E Street Band had already been on stage for three hours April 21 as it played its twice-postponed-in-2023 gig inside Columbus, Ohio’s, Nationwide Arena to close the U.S. leg of its 2024 spring tour. Springsteen, who at 74 retains the energy and voice - acrobatic with guttural growls and falsetto cries - of a much-younger man, was sweat-soaked, his tie tucked into his blue shirt, his vest now removed, returned alone to close the show with an acoustic version of “I’ll See You in My Dreams.”

Death is not the end, he sang, while proving the life-affirming nature of live music.

Though the band could’ve phoned it in, the expanded 18-piece - augmented with four-voice choir and five-piece horn section - instead brought a loud hailer, opening the 30-song, 185-minute set with a grimy version of “Youngstown,” the first of a handful of tour debuts that included “Streets of Fire” and “I’m Goin’ Down.” That some songs were slowed by a quarter-step seems to have been the only acknowledgement of age.

So, if these guys are actually taking Viagra, it isn’t because of on-stage impotence. The band is so hot that even relatively weak songs like “Bobby Jean” and “Dancing in the Dark” are splendid in the moment.

A few scattered empty seats did nothing to temper the raucous atmosphere inside the hockey arena. Fans hoisted signs - “I’m Mary, thanks for all the songs” was among the best - and Springsteen sung a line of “Thunder Road” to a woman who’d been dancing furiously in front of the stage all evening, causing her to light up like a strobe. Though there was no crowd surfing during “Hungry Heart” - dude is 74, remember - Springsteen did go into the audience during “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out” as images of late E Streeters Clarence Clemons and Danny Federici shone on the house video screens.

Back on stage, the living celebrated being alive. Steven Van Zandt played a guitar emblazoned with the Ukraine flag during “No Surrender.” Fellow guitarist Nils Lofgren spun like the Tasmanian Devil as he unspooled his “Because the Night” solo. And Jake Clemons served as Springsteen’s saxophone-blowing foil and conjured Uncle Clarence’s spirit throughout the night, thus garnering some of the crowd’s loudest adulation.

One of those moments came during a religious-experience rendering of “Spirit in the Night,” when Clemons sat on the stage and Springsteen literally leaned on his bandmate. The music temporally settled before exploding like a supernova and the climax. This was the greatest E Street moment Sound Bites has witnessed since the Band reunited for the 1995 Concert for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

“Last Man Standing,” with Springsteen on acoustic accompanied by trombone, was a nod to his earliest bandmates, all gone now. “Trapped” was a singalong on the choruses. “She’s the One” borrowed the Bo Diddley beat. “Wrecking Ball” transformed the arena into the charismatic church of E Street. “Rosalita (Come out Tonight)” found the group mugging and celebrating with the faithful on a small chunk of stage that jutted into the general-admission pit. And the vaunted “Detroit Medley” once again demonstrated that if you have rock ’n’ roll in your life, your life has the potential to be heaven at any given moment.

Grade card: Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band at Nationwide Arena - 4/21/24 - A

See more photos on Sound Bites’ Facebook page.

4/22/24

[tenthousandyellowjackets]

Marie Vaunt - The Chosen (2024)

[grandhotelabyss]

Also I wonder with all these low bro popculture obssesed video essaysist, if the problem is a lack of "education" or familiarity with "deeper stuff" or if there is just a type of person who fundementally cant engadge with things beyond genre fiction🤔

Like after watching the Napoleon movie, I wont get too deep into it cause its not relevant, but the fact that so many people cried about "historical inacuracys" seemed to me like there is some gap in understanding and imagination which cant really be bridged, as if it it is unthinkable that something can use historical cliches and archetypes for something which isnt just a factual retelling.

Idk, maybe me asking this in this way just reveals my own stupidity and eternal diletantism but eh it is what it is.

Yes, and I will get deep into it, because Napoleon in particular was ill-understood by that kind of literalist mentality, a very underrated film, even if you disagree with it ideologically. (I'm not English or French, so I don't really care on that level; I just enjoyed its inventiveness.) Even Anna and Dasha, despite their avowed aestheticism, didn't get it and said it had no consistent theme or through-line. But it begins with Napoleon's (fictional) presence at Marie Antoinette's decollation to introduce the governing motif of violated female power. This is the real power he's trying to usurp, though he's too autistic (in Phoenix's performance) to know this. It will menace him throughout the entire film from his early letters to his overbearing mother until Josephine's voice summons him to his death in the final shot. The film is a tightly-constructed British conservative send-up of Napoleon as barbarous upstart with bad manners and mother issues, a narrative based on Burkean and Austenian premises that middle-class gradualism is superior to aristocratic-proletarian revolutionism, that arch common sense will wear down superficially ingenious prowess, and that the domestic-erotic deserves to triumph over the very vaunting public ambition that seeks to escape from its clutches. As such, I thought it was rather witty and charming, a fantastical rejoinder to the oft-made criticism of Austen that she never mentions the Napoleonic Wars, as if to ask in turn, "What if she wrote a movie about the man himself?" To object to "historical errors" in the presence of such an intelligent piece of work is a total category mistake; that kind of point-missing nerdism, which in its obsession with facts does not even attend to the relevant facts, has no more place in the reception of art than in its creation.

[bambydiaries]

Impressionism women in history 𓅔

Welcome to my history literature-art-class. Please take a seat.

Berthe Morisot (1841–95)

Berthe Morisot is the best-known of the female Impressionists, having been given a solo retrospective that traveled Europe and North America starting in 2018. Born in 1841, Morisot first showed at the age of 25 at the 1864 Paris Salon. Morisot was the only woman invited to show in the first Impressionist exhibition (formerly called the Anonymous Society of Painters, Sculptors and Printmakers) in 1874, and she went on to participate in all but one of the eight exhibitions between from 1874 to 1886. She was close with Manet, even marrying his brother, and the two influenced each other, in a way that ultimately moved her work in bolder, more abstract directions. She painted with loose, bold brushstrokes that emphasized expressivity over naturalism. A critic wrote at the time, “Her painting has all the frankness of improvisation; it truly is the impression caught by a sincere eye and accurately rendered by a hand that does not cheat.” In the The Garden at Maurecourt (ca. 1884), she depicts a mother gazing at her child with little sentimentally, perhaps even boredom or exhaustion. With its probing depiction of its sitter’s mental state, the painting exemplifies Morisot’s sensibility. Morisot died of pneumonia in 1895, at the age of 54, leaving behind an oeuvre that hints at the further breakthroughs she was poised to make. 

(BTW, here you can get wallpapers from her)

Mary Cassatt (1844–1926)

Mary Cassatt was the only American among the founding Impressionists. She came from a well-off family in Pittsburgh that supported a formal arts education first at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts and then in Europe, after the vaunted Philadelphia school rebuffed her requests to study nude models. During her travels throughout the continent she learned under academic mentors such as Jean-Léon Gérôme and Édouard Frère and studied classical masterpieces by Correggio, Velázquez, Rubens. She settled in Paris in 1874, where she began regularly showing her portraits in the Salon. In 1877 Degas invited her to begin showing with the Impressionists, and she participated in four of the eight exhibitions. “No woman has the right to draw like that,” Degas reportedly said upon viewing Cassatt’s Young Women Picking Fruit (1891). She took the thinly veiled insult in stride, and the two maintained a close friendship based on a shared respect for asymmetrical composition and classical Japanese prints. Cassatt supported herself as a successful portrait artist and printmaker, having declared herself unfit for marriage or motherhood. In spite of this, her subject was often. the relationship between mothers and their children. In contrast to Morisot’s bold, expressive brushwork, Cassatt often depicted her the facial features and figure of her friends and family with great precision. In The Boating Party, the man’s expression is obscured, placing the focus on a deftly rendered woman and child. Cassatt once said her goal was to depict women as “subjects, not objects.”

Eva Gonzalès (1849–83)

Gonzalès never exhibited with the Impressionists, but she was close with some of the movement’s top artists—including Morisot—and her art is stylistically similar to their work. Like other aspiring female artists in 19th-century France, Gonzalès was barred from attending the École des Beaux-Arts, though like Morisot and Cassatt, her affluent upbringing afforded her the opportunity to attend private lessons. In 1869, she met Manet in Paris, and she became his only formal student. His influence on her work is evident in A Box at the Theatre des Italien‘s flat perspective at the subject’s direct gaze. The year they met, Manet created a portrait of Gonzalès, and in response she produced her own series of self-portraits, asserting her identity as professional peer—something far more than a museu. She died in 1883 at age 34 from an embolism after the birth of her son, having achieved her goal of exhibiting in the prestigious Paris Salon. In 1885, a 90-piece retrospective of her work was held at the Salons de la Vie Moderne in Paris.

Could write a book about them, ngl.

Thank you for reading till the end,

Atenea 𓅖

[redrascal1]

Why is there still so much Kylo hate?

I'm not referring to rampant Han Solo fans, but people like the tiresome JCF trolls, who continue to unleash venom on him despite it being over three years since the character was killed off and replaced with Rey Palpatine, Goddess of the Force, Princess of Woke, and possibly the most irritating heroine on celluloid (or at least one of them).

And I have come to this conclusion:

They know that he's more popular than their heroes.

More popular than Finn, who they insist was the 'male lead', even though both the VD and art book of TFA said he was conceived as a supporting character. More popular than Rey, DLF's much vaunted 'female protagonist', despite them pushing her as Ben Solo's replacement to the extent of character assassinating Leia (TROS reveals her as having Jedi training, which she used to train Rey Mary Sue but not her own child).

Critics hailed Adam's performance in TLJ. I know not all of us liked it (I loved it), but whatever you think of Rian Johnson, it was a masterstroke to ditch the helmet so Adam could really shine. And spoke volumes for the sheer petty spite of DLF, Abrams and Terrio (who firmly thinks Rey PALPATINE is the new Skywalker), who once again hid his wonderfully expressive face behind 'that ridiculous thing'.

They brought the mask back. They cut his screen time. All so Rey could strut around as the 'new' Skywalker. And guess what?

It didn't work. The few good bits of TROS had Adam front and centre. And critics and filmgoers alike agreed with this. Adam Driver stole the ST. A poll on DLF's own site cemented it.

'Who do you want to see most in TROS?'

Rey - 5%

Finn - 1%

Kylo - 81%

They can bash on him as much as they like, fling insults, accuse his fans of being 'racist' - many are POC - accuse us of being 'sexist' - many are women - but their petty and unfair insults will not change this fact:

Adam Stole The ST.

John Boyega can whine all he likes on twitter. Daisy Ridley can have her own film. But Adam Driver is the one everyone was talking about - not Ridley and Boyega.

[5yn]

aion/mary, 1200 words

Mary Magdalene doesn’t fear cliffs or spires. She doesn’t steer clear of bodies of water, unfathomably deep, and shakes off her wince with a brittle laugh when she stumbles, one night, in the pitch-black darkness. 

The cut on her leg, upon inspection, is a straight and less-than-shallow red. “Steady now,” Aion says, watching disinterestedly – the vaunted Holy Woman she may be, and he’ll be the last to deny the value of her assistance, but she still bleeds and bruises like any other human out there. He has better eyesight than her, and it takes a moment for her to take his arm. It probably had looked like some lumpy, shadowy thing before her vision had adjusted. “Can you stand? …Should’ve never made Chrono walk ahead of you, huh. Rotten luck.” 

She might have seen the fall coming. She’s never been the easiest to read, as far as humans go, but mild perturbation on his part isn’t going to lead him to begrudge her secrets. Chrono seems taken enough by her, which is an observation that is utterly meaningless as much as it is, at times, a source of dry fascination – it is his brother, after all – and so most days, that’s enough.

Chrono frets, of course, when he hears of the injury, which is a far more amusing spectacle, and, after a second of confused flailing, tears away a scrap of his jacket to stem the bleeding. They’ve set up a temporary camp; the fire clings to the shadows on her face, the crinkle of sadness in her smiling eyes, the fragile shiver of her shoulders even as she coos and teases Chrono over the attention he’s giving her all over a minor wound. 

“Are you blushing on me? How charming.” Her hand twitches, as if about to cling to Chrono, but withdraws at the last moment to tuck stray strands of pale hair behind her ear. Her hesitation, painfully and boringly human, is another secret, but it’s not one Aion particularly cares to unearth the roots of. “Don’t worry too much, though,” she murmurs. “I’m not afraid of a little pain.”

“What are you afraid of, Holy Woman?”

The question comes out casual, slightly superior, a little challenging. He’s not really sure what he’s expecting.

“I fear wide-open spaces,” replies Mary, looking up at Aion, her sweet smile turned sharp with blitheful rue. “They just seem to go on forever, with no end. Don’t you think so too?” 

.

She retained her fondness for reading even after it stopped being a habit she took on to fill in the empty days and compulsory loneliness of her long imprisonment. Mostly it’s Shader who joins her, the two of them giggling in tandem as they discuss physics and mathematics and Pandaemonium’s memories etched like genetic ink, but one day Aion makes his presence known on the other side of the table, stacks of books and tomes and misplaced notes smelling of coffee and catnip forming a makeshift fortress between them. 

Mary just nods and smiles politely in greeting. There’s nothing to fear here. Aion mostly minds himself, and he minds himself well; she knows he spends time in Eden’s library too, having procured a good chunk of the books himself, but they keep missing each other just barely. There’s nothing to be worried about there, either. 

“Does this place not remind you even a little of the Abbey? It’s hard for me to imagine why you’d spend so much time in this part of Eden, replicating the conditions of your birdhouse.”

“Birdcage,” she corrects gently, glancing up from the pages of the book in her lap. Aion pouts rather than blushes, and embarrassment is less satisfying to witness on him than it is on Chrono, in her private opinion, but she can’t help a faint smile regardless. “And it’s different. I had no choice then. But now I’ve finally found them … the wings that will set me free.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“Chrono,” Mary says simply. 

“Interesting. You’re giving him that much credit?”

“Never mind if the cage isn’t locked, Aion,” she explains, her voice soft. “Don’t you know already? Without wings, a bird will never be able to fly.”

.

“Does human culture really interest you that much, Aion?” she asks, looking over his shoulder at the novel he’s reading. 

“In a sense,” he replies. “It’s relevant information to know when us Sinners need to blend in, anyhow, so it’s not mere entertainment. Though I’ve found human stories exaggerate. They dramatize. Is it because your kind is so short-lived that they seem to love drawing out the pathos and tragedy and bliss of their brief existences?”

Mary ponders the question. “I think people write stories to live with themselves,” she says. Her expression tightens with something hot and fleeting, quickly smothered like the last dying embers of a violent blaze. She draws her hands to her chest, and her heart deeper into herself. “Yes. Things make more sense to them that way.”

“They wrote legends and fairytales after you, didn’t they? And look at what you have to show for it.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Mary says, almost amused. There’s something about the glint in her eyes that disconcerts him. “But I’m free now.”

“You recommended this book to me,” he says, changing the subject. “Our tastes don’t perfectly align, but it’s enjoyable enough so far.”

“Oh? I’m pleased to hear that.” She tilts her head, her laugh a gentle trill that spreads to the ruddy flush on her cheeks and slight shake of her shoulders. “Just don’t tell me how it ends.”

Aion looks at her skeptically. “You haven’t finished it?”

“I always stop halfway,” Mary confesses. Her hands clasp together, not in prayer, and she isn’t asking for forgiveness. “I prefer to think of my own endings.”

.

Mary Magdalene is only human in the end. Just a person like any other, trapped circling their lives in a never-ending staircase built on other people’s bones, on pointless hesitation, shackled and subservient. Even her unfathomable powers hadn’t changed that. How boring. How disappointing.

His talons seize around her neck, pressing on her pulse running hot with the rush of blood. He wonders if Pandaemonium can feel it. 

Mary Magdalene doesn’t fear suffocation or high places. She doesn’t fear drowning or disease or being bled to death. When she’d stepped to the edge of the outer ring of Eden’s protective barrier, surrounded by thin air and a cruel drop, she hadn’t been looking straight ahead. She’d let her attention stray to Chrono’s oblivious form the entire time without a care in the world. 

He knows what she really fears.

“Are you afraid? Of this future you didn’t foresee?”

Her prophecies had brought her despair. But despair, bottomless and cold, had protected her, shielded her, caged her heart and soul better than any wall or bars her fellow humans in the church could have constructed out of wood or stone. She had been its most loyal mistress, labouring under the weight of her unchangeable, immutable fate, a shackle around both ankles like any other delusion or myth or system.

She doesn’t answer. She’s losing breath. She’s crying, but the tears are messy, choked, nothing beatifically tragic like she had probably dreamed of. 

“Well, rest easy. Whether it’s me or him… The end result will be the same.” 

He’ll liberate her from this, too. And Chrono, and the rest of the world, will soon follow.

[thedjmusic]

Junodownload Top 100 Autumn Techno 2022

DOWNLOAD: https://thedjmusic.com/music/junodownload_best_autumn_techno_2022_10_12_flac_mp30

DATA: 2022-10-12 TOTAL: 98 GENRE: Techno

AKKI (DE) - Inside My Head

A*S*Y*S - Sweat & Tears - Original Mix

Adam Beyer,Bart Skils - Your Mind

Adam Beyer,Bart Skils,Charles D (USA) - Your Mind - Epic Edit

Age Of Love,Charlotte de Witte,Enrico Sangiuliano - The Age Of Love - Charlotte de Witte & Enrico Sangiuliano Remix

Alan Fitzpatrick,Rebūke - Nice & Cool Trigga

Alex Stein,Transcode - Control Me

Ann Clue - Six For Gold

Anna Reusch - Another Day

Armin van Buuren - Computers Take Over The World

Balthazar & JackRock - Define

Belocca,Nusha - Serenity

Bisou - Device - Original Mix

Boris Brejcha - Schwarz

Boris Brejcha - Up Down Jumper

Carl Cox,Franky Wah - See the Sun Rising

Charlotte de Witte - Kali

Chris Veron - Critical Thoughts

Claude VonStroke,VNSSA - These Notes In This Order - VNSSA Remix

DJ Dextro - Commodore

Deborah de Luca - Dori Me - Rework 2022

Deborah de Luca,Robert Miles - Children - Radio Edit

Devid Dega,Nico Cabeza,Millie Forsberg - Darkness

Disfreq - Essa Mina

Disfreq - Time Is Now

Eli Brown - Believe

Eli Brown - Can't Stop the Feeling

Eli Brown - Deep Down

Eli Brown - Nazareth

Eli Brown - Pressure

Enrico Sangiuliano - Future Dust - Original Mix

Enrico Sangiuliano - The Sound Of Space

Filterheadz - Helium

Flanko,Clap Codex - Stay Silent - Clap Codex Remix

Floormagnet,Tiger Stripes - Space Age - Tiger Stripes Remix Edit

Frank Spector - OMEN (ASOT 1087)

HI-LO,Eli Brown,Oliver Heldens - Industria

HI-LO,Oliver Heldens,DJ Deeon - WANNA GO BANG

HI-LO,Space 92,Oliver Heldens - Mercury

Impérieux - Ferishtah

Jacidorex,Popof - Midnight Express - Original

James Hype - Dancing

Jay Lumen - Bring the Dish

Jay Lumen - Here We Go

Jay Lumen - Human

Jay Lumen - Mandala

Joyhauser - Crawler

Kai Tracid,Genlog - Mockmoon (Peace, Love, XTC)

Kaiserdisco - Together One Time

Lampe - Anytime

Lampe - Differences

Layton Giordani - Digital Age

Layton Giordani - UFOs & LFOs

Lilly Palmer - We Control

MOTVS - Rumor

MOTVS - Unnatural Alchemy

MOTVS - We Go On

Maketech,Thomas Schumacher - Konfusion - Thomas Schumacher Rework

Marco V,T78 - GODD - T78 Remix

Mark Dekoda - Rave Harder Techno Bass

Mark Porter,Thomas Schumacher - Telegraph - Thomas Schumacher Rework

Matt Sassari,Green Velvet - Dance Or Die

Mella Dee - Techno Disco Tool - Radio Edit

Metodi Hristov - Clouds of Eden

Monococ - Pryzm

NoNameLeft - Excess Animus

NoNameLeft - Keep Goin'

NoNameLeft - Prisoner of Mind

NoNameLeft,Hiboo - Ego Lab

Novem Vivit - Filthy

Oliver Schories,Oliver Huntemann - Devon - Oliver Huntemann Remix

Pablo Say,Marko Krstic - Illusions

Pleasurekraft - Sex and the Machine

Radio Slave,NEZ,Mark Broom - Wait A Minute - Mark Broom’s Non Stop Remix

Ramon Tapia - Bring It On Down

Rebūke - Dystopia

Reinier Zonneveld,HI-LO,Oliver Heldens - Flying Octopus

Sabura,Maurice Mino - Human Race

Sam Paganini,Adam Beyer,Layton Giordani - Rave - Remix

Sam Paganini,Zøe,Wehbba - Flash - Wehbba Remix

Skin On Skin - Burn Dem Bridges

Slin Bourgh,Marie Vaunt - Into the Night

Sonique,BEC - It Feels So Good - BEC Remix

Space 92 - Colonia

Space 92 - Meteor

Space 92 - The Door

T78,RobJanssen - Mind Your Step

Teenage Mutants,Heerhorst - Ppt

Teenage Mutants,Heerhorst,PETER PAHN - Angel Dust

Thomas Labermair,Bultech - Voices In My Head - Bultech Remix

Thommes Jay - Compromise - Original Mix

Tiga,Hector Oaks - Easy - Héctor Oaks Difficulty Adjusted Mix

UMEK - Persona - Original Mix

UMEK,Popof,Space 92 - Control - Original Mix

Victor Ruiz - Beirut

Victor Ruiz - Surrender

Zajon,Thomas Schumacher - Rage Control - Thomas Schumacher Rework

sharpside,Wehbba - Space Cruising - Wehbba Remake

[tracksampm]

45 Minutes of Techno New Generation Space 92 Remix Layton Giordani The Awakening Kaspar (DE) Shanti UMEK I Am Free feat. Marie Vaunt Metodi Hristov Remix 2024 Metodi Hristov Pressure Luis M Dropout NoNameLeft, Daniel Weirdo Dark of the Night Joyhauser Katastrophe Teenage Mutants, Agustin Müller The Show Heerhorst I Got Money Eli Brown Glow Alex Di Stefano

[muznew]

Beatport Secret Weapons June 2024: Techno (P/D)

- Artists: Beatport DATE CREATED: 2024-06-13 GENRES: Techno (Peak Time / Driving) Tracklist : 1. Massano - The Method(Original Mix) 2. Lampe, Konfusia - Nothing to Fear(Original Mix) 3. Joyhauser - Dark of the Night(Original Mix) 4. Teenage Mutants, Agustin Müller - Katastrophe(Original Mix) 5. Heerhorst - The Show(Original Mix) 6. BEC - Be Here Now(Original Mix) 7. Township Rebellion, Flanko - Your Reality(Original Mix) 8. Gary Beck - Sambana(Original Mix) 9. Shadowmaw - Defiance(Original Mix) 10. Neumann - The Curse(Original Mix) 11. AiKAi - Break Through(Original Mix) 12. HI-LO, Alan Fitzpatrick - Gimme The Word(Extended Mix) 13. Metodi Hristov, Marie Vaunt - I Am Free (feat. Marie Vaunt)(Metodi Hristov Remix 2024) 14. Sebastian Mora, Mosher - Feel It(Original Mix) 15. Demon Noise - My House(Original Mix) 16. Jens Lissat - Outside Rave(Original Mix) 17. Sisko Electrofanatik, T78 - So Loud(Original Mix) 18. Norvis - Electricity(Original Mix) 19. Read the full article

[djmusicbest]

Beatport Secret Weapons June 2024: Techno (P/D)

- Artists: Beatport DATE CREATED: 2024-06-13 GENRES: Techno (Peak Time / Driving) Tracklist : 1. Massano - The Method(Original Mix) 2. Lampe, Konfusia - Nothing to Fear(Original Mix) 3. Joyhauser - Dark of the Night(Original Mix) 4. Teenage Mutants, Agustin Müller - Katastrophe(Original Mix) 5. Heerhorst - The Show(Original Mix) 6. BEC - Be Here Now(Original Mix) 7. Township Rebellion, Flanko - Your Reality(Original Mix) 8. Gary Beck - Sambana(Original Mix) 9. Shadowmaw - Defiance(Original Mix) 10. Neumann - The Curse(Original Mix) 11. AiKAi - Break Through(Original Mix) 12. HI-LO, Alan Fitzpatrick - Gimme The Word(Extended Mix) 13. Metodi Hristov, Marie Vaunt - I Am Free (feat. Marie Vaunt)(Metodi Hristov Remix 2024) 14. Sebastian Mora, Mosher - Feel It(Original Mix) 15. Demon Noise - My House(Original Mix) 16. Jens Lissat - Outside Rave(Original Mix) 17. Sisko Electrofanatik, T78 - So Loud(Original Mix) 18. Norvis - Electricity(Original Mix) 19. Read the full article

[limecraver]

ANNUYWAAYYY Marie vaunt tonight. Bf still asleep. I think my mom has visits today & I’ll ask her to bring me a redbull or something when she gets back. I gotta start pregaming around 5 or so but I’m gonna start getting ready around? 2? I can’t time math