#The Gypsy Shrine

[melefim]

Dead Boy Detectives full soundtrack!

(Or at least all the ones I could find)

I’ve seen several soundtrack playlists floating around, but unfortunately a lot have other songs added or are missing some that were used in the show, so I went ahead and made my own!

Below the cut is a full listing of when each song was used during the show, timestamped as accurately as I could manage.

Please let me know if there are any songs I missed, and I’ll add them ASAP! Score will be added if/when it’s released. If anyone would be interested in separate posts for each episode, let me know and I’ll get right on it!

Enjoy!

🎥Promotional🎥:

“Psychobilly Bandits” by Alibi Music: Teaser trailer

“Welcome to the Black Parade” by My Chemical Romance: Full trailer

“Young and in Love” by Fast Forward Romance: Meet the Characters teaser

🔮The Case of Crystal Palace🔮:

“Doorman” by slowthai, Mura Masa: Hotel hallway chase scene. (2:33-2:47)

“Hang on to Yourself” by David Bowie: Prep for Crystal’s case. (11:59-12:30)

“Bad Feeling” by Cobra Man: What Crystal is listening to on her headphones in the subway before the David the Demon fight. (12:36-13:04)

“I’m Telling Your Mum” by Danny Farrant, Paul Rawson: Jenny’s introduction. (21:46-22:44)

“It’s Not Unusual” by Tom Jones: In the Malt shop after they find Esther’s house and after Crystal sees David the Demon. (26:42-27:38, 29:24-29:47)

“Bones of Rock” by The Boneless Ones: In the background during Crystal and Jenny’s talk in the alley. (34:03-35:07)

“Take the Rest of Me” by Brocklesby Crooke: Dandelion sprites- Crystal meeting Niko. (36:39-36:51)

“Deal Wiv It” by Mura Masa, slowthai (instrumental): Meeting David the Demon flashback. (38:36-39:10)

“So What?” by NOISY (instrumental): Planning Becky’s rescue in the butcher shop. (41:34-42:19)

“White Teeth” by The Screaming Gypsy Bandits: Record playing inside Esther’s house. (43:33-44:30)

“Surfing in the Sky” by The Vaccines: Fight in Esther’s front yard. (49:08-49:50)

“Missing” by slowthai (instrumental): Sending Becky home, heading back to the butcher shop. (51:23-52:34)

🌼The Case of the Dandelion Shrine🌼:

“Take the Rest of Me” by Brocklesby Crooke: Dandelion sprites- Niko faints outside the bathroom and attracts attention in the butcher shop. (12:48-12:52, 28:29-28:57)

“Natural Successor” by Pictish Trail: Turning Monty human. (47:22-49:16)

🪓The Case of the Devlin House🪓:

“Free Tonight” by Skymachine: Charles & Crystal walk into butcher shop, just a few bars on radio before anchor talks about the storm. (8:13-8:15)

“Oceans” by The Yada Yada Yadas: on radio after anchor talks about the storm while Charles and Crystal are asking Jenny about the Devlin murders. (8:21-8:50)

“Owner of a Lonely Heart” by Yes: Devlin house time loop, repeated multiple times. (First full loop 19:06-21:09. Loop repeats: 21:31-23:05, 23:36-24:38, 25:02-25:35, 26:52-27:17, 29:04-29:55, 30:22-31:24, 33:17-34:30, 34:34-35:35, 35:48-37:01, 37:18-38:55, 39:28-40:50. Final loop: 42:23-42:36)

🌊The Case of the Lighthouse Leapers🌊:

“RoMaNcE” by ShitKid: Jenny reading letter from her secret admirer, gets rent from the girls. (1:16-2:40)

“Fire Escape” by Nine One One: Jenny reading letter before finding the Night Nurse upstairs. (29:06-29:32)

“The Wellerman” (original music box version): Charles winds up music box, hits Night Nurse with it, kicks her into Angie. (43:07-43:49)

“Young Blood- White Sea Remix” by The Naked and Famous, White Sea: End of episode- Niko starts to read letters from mother, Charles and Crystal kiss, end credits. (48:22-50:59)

🐉The Case of the Two Dead Dragons 🐉:

“Thunder” by ZEE MACHINE: Interviewing students about Brad & Hunter. (14:24-15:11)

“Apocalypse” by Cigarettes After Sex: Jenny and Maxine mid-date. (26:54-28:04)

“Melting” by Kali Uchis: Jenny and Maxine late date until stalker reveal. (36:25-38:10)

“Disorder” by Joy Division: End credits. (49:49-50:41)

🍄The Case of the Creeping Forest🍄:

“Who’s Ur Girl?” By The Mysterines: Niko redecorates her room. (1:15-1:29)

“The Wellerman” (original Music box version): Sea calming music box, playing inside Angie. (13:45-14:07, 15:35-15:49)

“A.T.T.A.C.K” by Arre! Arre!: Niko tries to get Jenny to forgive her in the butcher shop. (20:49-21:57)

“Shakedown” by Infamous Stiffs: End credits. (51:17-52:11)

🕷️The Case of the Very Long Stairway🕷️:

“Under the Milky Way” by The Church: Charles’ memories of his death. (11:06-13:15)

“Dinner Jazz” by Tony Kinsey: Limbo/Hotel lobby in Hell. (17:27-18:27, 44:13-44:30)

“Revolution Action” by Atari Teenage Riot: David turns on lights and music in abandoned bowling alley. (30:20-30:48)

“Window Shopping” by Robert Foster: Gluttony/Café when exiting Hell. (43:13-43:35)

“Circle In The Sand” by Belinda Carlisle: Jenny singing in Crystal’s head while possessed. (31:43-33:50)

“Burning” by Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Monty flies away from rooftop, Esther works on her machine, Jenny sleeps while Niko looks at Cursed Magic 8 ball, Night Nurse knocks on supervisor’ door, Crystal eats first memory marble, end credits. (52:37-55:16)

🐍The Case of the Hungry Snake🐍 :

“Standing In The Way of Control” by Gossip: Crystal’s first memory marble. (1:18-2:04)

“I’m What You Want” by Walt Disco: Crystal Club fight memory. (8:35-8:48)

“When I’m Gone” by Ging: Crystal says goodbye and leaves the butcher shop. (16:18-18:13)

“Sleeping On Grassy Ground” by The Heavy Heavy: Charles and Edwin wake up in Esther’s house. (25:55-27:43)

“Who’s Sorry Now” by Connie Francis: Niko and Crystal break into Esther’s house. (30:35-31:17)

“Loss & Relax” by Black Belt Eagle Scout: Talking in Niko’s room. (40:44-42:59)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And if you like lists of things like I do, you can check out my other Dead Boy Detective ones here!

When Charles’ shirt color changes

George Rextrew’s Edwin comic inspo board

Moves, Incidents, and Cases masterlist

Swearing Stats Masterlist

First pass at finding where the songs in the score are used- full post with timestamps in progress.

[inky-sun]

“The stuff of nightmare is their plain bread. They butter it with pain. They set their clocks by deathwatch beetles, and thrive the centuries. They were the men with the leather-ribbon whips who sweated up the Pyramids seasoning it with other people's salt and other people's cracked hearts. They coursed Europe on the White Horses of the Plague. They whispered to Caesar that he was mortal, then sold daggers at half-price in the grand March sale. Some must have been lazing clowns, foot props for emperors, princes, and epileptic popes. Then out on the road, Gypsies in time, their populations grew as the world grew, spread, and there was more delicious variety of pain to thrive on. The train put wheels under them and here they run down the log road out of the Gothic and baroque; look at their wagons and coaches, the carving like medieval shrines, all of it stuff once drawn by horses, mules, or, maybe, men.”

- Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes

[haggishlyhagging]

Other triune goddesses of the moon are to be found elsewhere. We would note here the Celtic Bridgets, representing three aspects of the Moon Goddess, Brigentis. These three Bridgets of Ireland are the same as the Three Ladies of Britain, who are phases of the great Celtic Mother Anu, or Annis, the moon, whose shrines are scattered all over Ireland, Wales, England, and France. In Southern France, Anu was known as The Shining One. She was patron of fertility, of fire, poetry, and medicine. But she had another side; she was also known as Black Anu, who, in common folklore, devoured men or turned them into lunatics.

The correspondence between this Celtic moon goddess in all her attributes and the Magna Dea of the East is extraordinary, and would be completely inexplicable were we not beginning to realize that the facts of mythology, discredited as fiction by rational science, are today being re-established as facts of the unconscious, that is of the psyche.

When Christianity was introduced into countries where up to that time this threefold goddess had been revered, her worship was assimilated, as we have seen, into the Christian system. The idea of the threefold nature of the feminine divinity was present in the legends of the three Maries. So in Chartres Cathedral, the Virgin Mary is accompanied by Mary Magdalene and Mary the Gypsy. In Ireland the Three Bridgets are accepted by the Catholic Church and their shrines are considered to be wonder-working. But this assimilation did not take place entirely without protest. Saint Augustine in an attempt to bring discredit on the worship of Artemis writes, "How can a goddess be three persons and one at the same time?"—surely a strange question for a Christian Father to ask.

-M. Esther Harding, Woman’s Mysteries: Ancient and Modern

[evita-shelby]

A different sort of man

part ii

Gif by @nofckingfighting

The witch scours through every book on magic she owns, and Thomas spends the time trying to see how different this Tommy’s life is from his.

The tattoo on his hand is different.

Instead of TGC, he sees an entwined E and T. Same monogram on the linens, tiles on the floors and carved on his own desk.

“You got it done on our first anniversary in 1921, we didn’t have Charlie yet.” The witch answers as she tossed another book into the stack and leafed through the next one. “Charlie was born in 1922, September to be exact. We eloped on June 1920 and a month ago we had a church wedding to cover up the Russian business and because our families ---mainly Polly and my aunts--- demanded we pretend to be good catholic people despite us being atheists.”

“How do you know about the Russians?” he tensed.

He didn’t confide in anyone save Polly, he couldn’t trust Grace even after three years. Too many lies, too many things ruined by her presence alone.

Even his family was distancing themselves from him because they can’t stand her.

“Because you tell me things, we are not just husband and wife, we are also business partners, have been since I told you Grace was the rat and told Campbell about Black Star Day.” She answered before muttering a curse, tossed the book and began searching through the couch cushions.

Lucky, lucky Thomas Shelby, this Tommy has a wife he can trust, with a good head on her shoulders and a spark of gypsy magic.

Something gnaws at him because he knows he cannot even begin to comprehend why he even sought Grace out in London in the first place.

“Should your stay last longer than it should, I am perfectly equipped to handle everything the other you has left pending. I act as your proxy when you aren’t available, if I do need you to make an appearance, I will brief you on it.” The witch runs a tight ship it seems.

“Mrs. Shelby, Mrs. Gray is here.” Mary, the same housekeeper he employes said with a little more warmth than her counterpart.

“Thank you, Mary. Please send her in, I am afraid it is rather urgent.” She thanked the housekeeper with a smile.

Grace was not an easy woman to please, demanded perfection, demanded that everyone knew their place and would never have even acknowledged Mary with a smile.

Where had this woman been all these years, he found himself asking.

“71 Watery Lane, with my daj, Ethel Smith.” She answered his unspoken question to his horror.

“You aren’t you.” Polly cuts to the chase as they meet in his office.

“No. Believe it or not, when I went to sleep my wife’s name was Eva, my son Charlie was five months older and I would have never sought out Grace Burgess for what she did to us six years ago.” Tommy explained to Polly, she was closer to the original one, but there was a coldness to their interactions.

He couldn’t blame her, Eva had told him that Grace believed Pol to have incestuous feelings toward him and assumed it was jealousy and not disgust because she saw her for who she was.

“If only that version of you had your sensibility, boy.” His aunt said with pity aimed at the man whose body he occupied.

This Thomas had a similar tattoo on his hand, except for the monogram Eva has on tiles and linens, there is a G for Grace, a C for Charles and a T for Thomas.

This man’s feelings were not strong enough to keep it just their initials, he had to add the baby that turned a fuck up into his life.

“Yeah, if only.” He found himself agreeing as he tossed the photograph of Grace into a drawer.

This house was a dark and gaudy shrine to her and him, he had not been surprised to know she had not curtailed his less than fashionable décor. Worse, Grace Burgess had enabled him.

Grace’s tastes seemed to exist within the confinements of her wardrobe and even that was questionable.

If Eva were here she would have burned the garish purple wedding dress with unabashed gusto, along with every portrait he commissioned.

He missed her, not even three hours apart from her and he wants to return to her and his much, much happier life.

“What do we know about Eva Smith, granddaughter of Ethel Smith at 71 Watery Lane?” he doesn’t hear the quiet gasp until Polly’s dark eyes zero in at the woman spying on them.

Fuck.

Fuck him, fuck her, fuck them all.

If Grace was just as he remembered, she will be calling the All Saints’ Hospital to throw him in there before the sun sets today.

As if he didn’t already have the Russians to deal with too.

[violettesiren]

The winds of March have hushed to rest, All quiet lie the fields; Returning life is manifest And woods put on their shields.

Old Night, a juggler, drops his dark Soft cover on the hills, With every star a shining spark. Like grist from heavenly mills.

Spring loosens all conventions shrined Beneath my Gypsy blood; I'd barter every one to find The first arbutus bud.

The grime of cities fades and goes Before the pagan lamp That burns in each unopened rose, Cut deep with spring's fresh stamp.

And April comes with cap and bells, Half laughter and half tears, Or dons a priest's dark robe and tells Her beads of passing years.

Song For April by Virginia Taylor McCormick

[notyour-valentine]

La Serenissima

'As the flames of sacrifice

From the marble shrines did rise,

As to pierce the dome of gold

Where Apollo spoke of old.

Sun-girt city! thou hast been Ocean’s child,

and then his queen.’

~ Percy Bysshe Shelley about the City of Venice, which has for centuries been called La Serenissima

Created for @gypsy-girl-08 and her 3000 Follower celebration

Congratulations on your milestone! I am so glad I got a chance to celebrate it with you and contribute something. I do hope you like it!

Taglist

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight  @lilyevanswhore  @polishcrazyone  @zablife  @just-a-harmless-patato  @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend

[the-unholy-sovereign]

[{]¤| Hail Satan |¤[}] 💀Shiva (Salah) Ψ THξ UNHθLY SθVξRξIGN Ψ Moslem; Black Gypsy (black-jew) I.Shallah (SHALL-AH)

XIX.ROYALTY.XIX SULTAN; Sultan I.GIN. . 'Mess_ah; Mess_ai' (II.brahmana) I Kabal 'Lord' Shiah, Shi'ah. (Jin) Syrian I Syrian {[Virility]} Maharom.II (MA-ah-ROM I.Mah_ram) XIX.Emperor.XIX (Grand-Shrine) I.Palace 🇮🇳 [Oxthanos The Great] "King Syrian Of Macedonia" Democratic Republic of the Congo [{India}] II.MAHAROM. Sri Lanka (Colombo) I.Dom Andrew M. Allen Drayton, The Central African Republic. . . 🇱🇰 Ceylon.

♾NUBIAN CREED: SATANIST: THE DARK GOD OF VOODOO. . . . Mumbai (Bombay)

[oceanlipgloss]

WISHES TO THE DEVIL

BARBATOS.

+ warnings: angst.

+ my mc is the heroine, so the pronouns are feminine.

That cold night has become the finest wine—aged for years now after all—yet still an ardent flame whispering to the mirrors in her mind, a fire at the peak of its immortality.

The reflections, they were never pure, always misty; truth be told, they were rather vile—with a relentless curse, with mere twisted words—echoing in every shard of her gasping soul.

She once liked to believe that within her was never love, but burning desire—fiery longing—to understand, to try to see how that clairvoyant statue thinks, how his heart beats; for she was once a young enchantress, a goddess of tales wishing for the devil to be her muse. 

However, they agreed again, her sly destiny and the emotionless demon; his calculating verdant eyes tore through her flesh and on cold stone laid her dishonest heart bare. He seemed to have the will to bury Hell in ice and shatter all glossy mirrors before she could even give the reflections a glance. 

And there are nights—veiled moments like these—when she's taken back to the distant past, to a time when innocence was a rose firmly planted in her heart. So tonight she wonders; have these ripe years changed him, even if ever so slightly? In his intangible heart, has she left the slightest touch of memory? 

Her poetry, that biting remembrance sealed with molten carnelian...did it ever paint ice and turn blood ever so blue into breathing colors? 

These, she realises, will forever remain questions destined for solitude, never to meet their answers. But it's alright; they birthed thousands of pages—each its own tragedy—didn't they? What more could she ask for?

Years have passed, but nothing much has changed—she's still that gypsy wandering in a timeless land, exploring her enchanting mind; she's still that chaste beacon, now burning brighter than it ever did as it awaits Heaven's embrace in a fragile coffin of flesh and wilted roses—the only difference...is that her heart no longer knows lies. 

Anguish was all he ever gave, yet he remained a priest, his very existence the shrine of her peace; so when fallen on her knees to pray, the wishes upon her lips sing to the devil—for that night, with her own eyes she witnessed ink make love to paper in warm candlelight, and so the venom on his tongue gracefully turn into a timeless verse. 

“Reality is mere flame flickering in my hands. I neither see nor desire the future you wish for.”

+note: this was my breakthrough piece from back when I had my old writing blog—which I later deleted in April 2022—a blog under the same name, @oceanlipgloss.

+ MASTERLIST

+ AO3 POST

©𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨

[parkerbombshell]

Ice Cream Man Power Pop And More #552

Mondays 10am EST bombshellradio.com bombshellradio.com Archival Shows: bombshellradiopodcasts.com #IceCreamManPowerPopAndMore #PowerPop #Mod #NorthernSoul #Punk#60sClassics #Ska #60sGarage #Surf#Itunes#BombshellRadio #recordcollector #musiclover#powerpopgrunge #powerpopgirls #newmusic #rocknroll King Khan and The Shrines - Luckiest Man (Idle No More LP) The Gypsy Moths - The Further Adventures Of Paul Villiard (Sounds On LP) Brent Seavers - The Universe And I (Exhibit B LP) The Prisoners - Revenge Of The Cybermen (Single) The Wynotts - Hey, Sharon (Way Back Now LP) The Ruby Tears - Motor Mouth (Single) Pauls - Trash In My Head (Single) David Woodard - Grace Under Pressure ((Get It Good LP) Mansfield - Let’s Stop Pretending (For All The Right Reasons LP) The Real People - I Don’t Mind (What’s On The B-Side LP) The Cornfed Project - Long Time Ago (Single) Badfinger - Just A Chance (Wish You Were Here LP) Atomic - Hey Now Right Now (If This Wall Could Sing LP) Sam Page - So So Cynical (Single) Camens - Sleep Patterns Repeating (Single) Answering Machine - Bubblegum (Bad Luck LP) Ward White - Continuity (Here Come The Dowsers LP)  Bruce Moody - Creepy People (Popcycle LP) Little Roger - Does Susie Like Boys (Single)  The Patriots - She Loves You Too (Hey Don’t You Know LP)  Read the full article

[jargonautical]

Somewhere To Be / A chapter at a time

The chapel and the tinker

ALFRISCOMBE SHRINE, 1654

THE SHRINE HAD been there for as long as anyone could remember, marking the spot where the spring bubbled up through the rocks; a single standing stone as tall as a man with grey-green lichen filling its carved spirals, and a second stone laid flat at its foot like an altar. There used to be a third stone but that was smashed to pieces years ago, its scattered fragments buried somewhere in the weeds.

Some villagers kept to the old ways still. Desiccated posies bore testament, dark splashes of wine in clay cups, and antlers hanging off nearby branches like a particularly gruesome crop. All to be cleared away now at the baron’s command, all of it; the stones, the rotting timber hut behind, and those disgusting relics as well. No superstitious peasant nonsense must remain to sully this holy site.

As the ground was cleared, the remaining stones pushed over and broken down, a wanderer emerged from the forest path. Tall and swarthy with a heavy pack on his back, he looked like any other gypsy the stonemason ever saw; but since he was a decent man at heart he wished him a good day, enquiring after his health and his travels, even offering a cup of water and a bite of his own meal if the man would care to share.

It bore an unexpected dividend, and not just the warming gleam in the tinker’s eyes as he stepped out of the shadows. He accepted the water gratefully but wouldn’t take more than a sip. “Your men will be needing this more.” he said with a glance up at the sun. “As for your meal, let me contribute.” From the depths of his pack he produced a well-wrapped haunch of venison and cheerfully shared it around. “It’ll spoil before I can finish it.” he insisted against their protests. “It’s you who’s doing me the favour, or would you have this go to waste?”

Over the meal they were happy to discuss the chapel’s plans, since the fellow was so polite and so curious. He particularly admired the design for the roof bosses, a rosette with deep-cut petals that the mason was particularly pleased with. Just as well, as four dozen in all would be needed for the ambitious vaulted ceiling before they’re done, and a few gargoyles besides.

“It’ll be a fine chapel indeed.” the tinker said with a lopsided grin, “If it ever gets finished.”

Long afterwards the mason reflected on that day; it seemed from the moment the tinker said those words, nothing went right. Sinking foundations, cracking lintels, and collapsing walls - before too long the men flatly refused to return to work, even for triple pay. Some curse lingers over the site, they agreed, and as soon as other jobs arose they moved on with relief.

The chapel fell to ruin so quickly you’d barely know there’d ever been a structure there at all. Fine dressed stone gradually got robbed away for doorsteps and windowsills and mounting blocks until there was nothing left but a tumbled mossy outline of the tower base. A generation past you’d barely know it was there unless your horse stumbled on one of the hidden stones. The only sign a chapel was ever planned was the jeering stone demon carved by the stonemason after a heavy night drinking the tinker’s ale. Its twisted grin seemed to be mocking the whole endeavour, perched up on the wall where he left it until the brambles eventually claimed it.

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

DAY ONE OF the dig dawns on a fine sunny morning. Rain clouds are massing out to sea, but with barely any breeze it’ll be hours before they reach the museum.

The site manager consults her clipboard - mainly for show, since she knows everything is in place, from the permits acquired and carefully entered into the system to the license for the skip out in the drive right through to decades of blueprints consulted in case of underground cables. The interns are busy stacking find trays and hand tools ready beside the paved path bordering the lawn. On the other side of the garden wall a catering truck is dispensing a breakfast fit for people with serious work to do; bacon rolls, crumbling dark fruitcake by the slice, scalding builder’s tea in chipped china mugs. ‘Vegan Option’s Available On Request’ according to a handwritten addition to the menu, but a second bulk pack of bacon is already out to defrost in anticipation of the morning’s bestseller.

Approaching eight thirty the lawn fills with people shouting incomprehensible instructions at each other, collecting cones and pulling up stakes, winding up orange tape as they go to clear the way for the backhoe rumbling along from the main driveway.

Archchancellor Cooper himself has graced the occasion, a forty-something man with the shaved head and solid build of a prop forward and with much the same immovable air. Despite his bulk he’s wearing a beautifully-cut suit in heavy charcoal wool; spotless white cuffs emerge precisely half an inch from his jacket sleeves, no more and no less, and the silk tie around his thick neck displays the colour blocks and badge of the local Rotary Club. He’s not here to dig, obviously; the presence of the local newspaper signals he’s here to be photographed shaking hands and possibly holding a polished silver trowel that’s never touched dirt.

Mainder maintains a low-key brooding presence somewhere on the edge of the action, leaning against the high stone wall that borders the lane on the far side. He wasn’t expecting roll-away-the-stone levels of discovery, but despite the scattered cheers from the assembled crowd it’s distinctly anticlimactic. The driver takes up position and, with a theatrical hand raised high for all to see, brings it down on the lever to lower the bucket. It’s some skill, delicately breaking the surface and cutting a neat strip of turf, that he grudgingly agrees is worthy of applause. But after that it’s just doing the same thing another three times before turning the backhoe in a neat manoeuvre and trundling back across to the driveway. The trench is begun, six feet long and roughly the same wide, and all of three inches deep.

Mainder takes a hint from a sudden unobtrusive bustle, of  multiple people realising there’ll be nothing more to see for several hours, all simultaneously and spontaneously deciding they have something they just need to go and check on and good Lord, is that the time?

He himself has nowhere in particular to be, but there’s no point loitering in this spot until something is uncovered. The office looks to be open for the day already, a suitable haven, and no sign of the girl yet.

Good. He’s more than a little uncomfortable with what it might say about his psyche that he’d be dreaming a half-naked woman-child into his midnight bed. That requires some self-reflection, ideally before he next has to look her in the eye. He claims the couch and stretches out for a power nap, still fuzzy from his pre-dawn waking.

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

“Ssshhhh.” Chris mimes as Evie comes through the door. “You’ll wake the baby.”

Confused, she follows his glance to see Mainder stretched out on the couch. “Wow.” she mouths, and moves up the room. “He really made himself at home, didn’t he?”

“I know, right? I keep wanting to fetch him a blanket.”

Sleeping Mainder is a treat to behold, she has to admit. The brooding tension that he usually radiates is entirely absent, with his lean face perfectly relaxed and his long body twisted awkwardly half-on and half-off that much-too-short couch. He looks - there’s that word again, safe, when all the information so far suggests he’s anything but.

[theam-cjsw]

The AM: December 11, 2023

After some initial cosmic digressions, it's a more guitar-forward episode of the AM, particularly in the last half, with dreamy tunes from Lush, the Haiduks, the Amazing, Ultimate Painting and more. Plus the story of a Christmas weed, and bright vibes for a dark winter day.

Listening links:

CJSW

Soundcloud

Spotify playlist

Hour One:

ekki hugsa Ólafur Arnalds • It's 2am and I'm Not Tired

Pulse at the Centre of Being - Mor Elian Remix Max Cooper • Unspoken Words Remixes III

Hungover and Late Richard Reed Parry, featuring Stuart Bogie, Andrew Barr • Eileen OST

Sundogs Mount Maxwell • Littlefolk

In the Soil Various Artists, featuring Hermeneia & Zaumne • Always + Forever

Space Pop Lars Deutsch • Boum Dans L'Espace

Nordlicht Kosmischer Läufer • Volume Five

Airwaves Kraftwerk • Radio-Activity

Dream Rain Stilz • Single

Pure Rich Aucoin • Synthetic: Season 2

Hour Two:

The Great Wave Tristan De Liége x Jambal • Enterprises of Great Pith and Moment

Penthouse in Pernambuco ATA Records • The Library Archive, Vol.3

Crescent Blade The Budos Band • Frontier's Edge

Fried Neck Bones And Some Home Fries Willie Bobo • Uno Dos Tres 1•2•3

For Free Rogér Fahker • East of Any Place

Never the Bride Raf Wilcot • Cinnabar Bouquet

Breathe Again Dada Plan • A Dada Plan Is Free

Who’s the Thief??? Dada Plan • A Dada Plan is Free

Only the Lonely Know How MOONRIIVR • Vol. 1

Dos Pasajeros Melenas • Ahora

I Can’t Speak La Luz • Weirdo Shrine

Shapes Bong Wish • Hazy Road

Things I Hold Knife Pleats • Hat Bark Beach

Cheerleader Coldfront (Guided By Voices Cover) Lab Coast • Cover to Cover

Hour Three

Stop Trying (jubilant reprise) siskiyou • Not Somewhere

Plain As Your Eyes Can See Various Artists, featuring Acetone • Light in the Attic & Friends

Ten Street Ultimate Painting • Ultimate Painting

Shelter Alice Phoebe Lou • Shelter

I Have the Moon Lush • Topolino

I’m Still Here The Haiduks • 1968

Waiting for You Sundays & Cybele • Gypsy House

Beau baptême Population II • Électrons libres du québec

Occhi Malvagi Futuropaco • Fortezza di Vetro, Vol. 1

Picture You The Amazing • Picture You

[pbcnita]

https://www.etsy.com/shop/DesignsbyLWhite Gypsy, Gitana, Eggun, spirit doll. 🥰😍

*Click link in profile for details and to shop*

#youmakemebetter

#maferefuneggun

#spiritdoll

#gypsy

#gitana

#spiritguide

#togetherwearestronger

#yourvibeattractsyourtribe

#beauty

#representationmatters

#ethnicdolls

#muñeca

#doll

#goddessenergy

#boveda

#altar

#shrine

#tools

#tarot

#coins

#focalpoint

#vessel

#blackgirlmagic

#espiritismo

#hoodoo

#voodoo

#art

#oneofakind

#customcreations

#reels

[mainsur]

Ultima iii the floor attacks you

Virtue affects how NPCs interact with the player enlightenment in the Virtues is achieved through the player's actions as well as through meditation at shrines. This is also the first Ultima where playing as a human is necessary, eliminating other races such as the elves, dwarves, and "bobbits" found in previous games (however, even in the first three Ultimas where they could be chosen as player characters, there were never any non-player characters (NPC) of those non-human races).Īlthough each profession embodies a particular Virtue, to become an Avatar the player must achieve enlightenment in all eight virtues. For example, choosing Compassion creates a Bard, Honor a Paladin, Sacrifice a Tinker, and so on. These situations do not have one correct resolution rather, players must rank the Eight Virtues and whichever stands as their highest priority determines the type of character they will play. Instead of simply choosing stats to assign points to as in the first three Ultima games, players are asked various ethical dilemmas by a gypsy fortune-teller using remotely tarot-like cards of the eight virtues. Though Avatarhood is not exclusive to one chosen person, the hero remains the only known Avatar throughout the later games, and as time passes he is increasingly regarded as a myth. Ĭonversely, actions in the game could remove a character's gained Virtues, distancing them from the construction of Truth, Love, Courage and the greater axiom of Infinity-all required to complete the game. After proving his or her understanding in each of the Virtues, locating several artifacts and finally descending into the dungeon called the Stygian Abyss to gain access to the Codex of Ultimate Wisdom, the protagonist becomes an Avatar. The game follows the protagonist's struggle to understand and exercise the Eight Virtues. The object of the game is to focus on the main character's development in virtuous life-possible because the land is at peace-and become a spiritual leader and an example to the people of the world of Britannia. Unlike most other RPGs the game is not set in an "age of darkness" prosperous Britannia resembles Renaissance Italy, or King Arthur's Camelot. Lord British felt the people lacked purpose after their great struggles against the Triad were over, and he was concerned with their spiritual well-being in this unfamiliar new age of relative peace, so he proclaimed the Quest of the Avatar: He needed someone to step forth and become the shining example for others to follow. Eventually the world, now unified under Lord British's rule, was renamed Britannia. Īfter the defeat of each of the members of the Triad of Evil in the previous three Ultima games, the world of Sosaria underwent some radical changes in geography: Three quarters of the world disappeared, continents rose and sank, and new cities were built to replace the ones that were lost. The story instead focuses on the player character's moral self-improvement. Ultima IV is among the few role-playing games, and perhaps the first, in which the game's story does not center on asking a player character to overcome a tangible ultimate evil.

[lovefeelingfineblog]

Glitter Eyes; All Year Round?

I love glitter eyeshadow, glitter lipgloss, glitter anything really. In winter it is socially acceptable (in my eyes) to adorn every make-up look with glitter, especially within the Christmas season. As the nights get darker we are often illuminated by cosy, twinkly mood lighting. Flattering as this is, it allows for glitter galore. In the summer, glitter is only welcome in far more specific scenarios; a festival or a summer party for example. 

I am not a fan of this restriction myself. Late last year (in time for Christmas and all it’s candlelit glory) I investigated the Glossier Glitter Gelées. When perusing the site to select a shade, I was struck by the subtle and minimalistic ways the glitter had been applied. ‘Minimalist’ certainly seems an odd choice of word to describe an application of glitter but it’s true. In classic glossier style the models skin has a clean dewy look, with the glitter on the eyes as the main event. With glitter dabbed carefully into a wing shape or dotted above and below each lash line, these looks were undeniably subtle. 

(Note: The Glossier Glitter Gelees have now been discontinued due to sustainability concerns. For equally as stunning and much more eco-conscious, biodegradable glitter check out Ecostardust or The Gypsy Shrine for a worthy replacement)

I took these minimal glitter looks as a confirmation that bedazzled eyes need not be confined to the depths of winter. In fact with selective placement, no eye-liner (and dare I say it no mascara...) these make-up looks could even been considered casual. Do not get me wrong, everyone and anyone should be able to where whatever make-up they like, whenever they like. Nonetheless, the discovery that glittery eyes can be quite easily incorporated into the day-to-day make up where some of us attempt subtlety has got to be encouraging. I for one intend to incorporate a glittery eye everyday next week. 

[Images from Pinterest]

[festfashions]

Loving this harness set, would look cute over a skater dress too!

Red Vegan Leather Harness Skirt: The Gypsy Shrine, $25.94 Red Vegan Leather Harness Top: The Gypsy Shrine, $25.94

[bellaanselmo]

Glitter mess