#The Saahs

[samantha-and-nellie]

one thing that i wish the books had addressed is how haunting it must’ve been for samantha to visit coldrock house. i think the fandom really easily forgets that samantha is an orphan (and has been since she was around jenny’s age) because she has an otherwise functional and loving family in her life. but there’s no way that she never thought about the fact that she could’ve ended up in a place like coldrock house had she come from a different background… i cannot imagine how haunting that must’ve felt, especially at her age, and i think it makes it even clearer why she was so determined to get nellie and her sisters out of the orphanage

[gotankgo]

VOID, 9:30 Club, Washington, D.C., 12/5/1982

photo by Jim Saah

[avaritia-ffxiv]

Living on a razor's edge Danced with demons, tasted death But hallelujah, I'm not dead

[justapayneaway]

This week I'm reviewing The Assassin's Blade by Sarah J. Maas 🗡️

Follow me on IG at @ritasbookclub for more content!

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

HARDCORE BAND BREAK-UP INCOMING -- SEAN IS GETTING INTO B-BOY CULTURE.

PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on primary VOID lyricist and band drummer, the late, great Sean Finnegan rocking a "Wild Style" (1983) sleeveless T-shirt, with "Bubba" Dupree to the left of him looking more glammed out than in the band's earlier days, c. 1983-'84? 📸: Jim Saah.

Resolution at 1080x728 & 640x819.

PIC #2: Behind-the-scenes shot of the 1983 hip-hop cult classic/docudrama, "Wild Style," with the titular "Wild Style" mural by graffiti artists ZEPHYR, Revolt, and Sharp in the background.

Sources: www.picuki.com/media/2629286378490184617 & Dazed Magazine.

[witchwriting-hpfanfic]

google is officially a smartass

[the-odd-job]

So yeah, Saahe used to have long hair. He cut it before he left the Steppe to make it easier to maintain, and just hasn’t let it grow as long again since.

Another one to the pile of “thirsting after your own characters”, much in line with this thing from a while back.

[sagahin]

The queues were as ridiculous as ever so I got a kind helping hand with unsyncing Alexander for this title. Turned out it’s from finishing the second set, not the whole raid series like I originally thought, so there was no need to touch Creator at all. Nice.

[x-heesy]

𝙳𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 ✅

𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝚂𝙰𝙰𝙷

[samantha-and-nellie]

i’ve become a bit of an aunt cornelia truther

[gotankgo]

Discharge, harDCore matinee, 9:30 Club, Washington, D.C., 10/17/1982

photo by Jim Saah

[avaritia-ffxiv]

Days that never end, always should remain

[caruliaa]

a lil puss and he has boots perhaps isnt that neat

its very neat tbh. infact i love that so much. meow

[wolven91]

Good Trade

"That was someone's passport!" Shouted Nate, storming into his room, his breath ragged from impotent rage.

"Saah, calm." Urged the fik as he stepped into the human's quarters. A clawed hand found Nate's shoulder and gently drew him into the furred chest of the fik warrior. The human was shaking, adrenaline and anger still pumping through his chest to the point he could feel his heart shuddering, skipping beats.

"Saaaaah..." Murmured the warrior. The fik, Yiktar, was not a medically inclined fik, nor was he a negotiator. He was a warrior, his specialty was causing vicious injuries and threatening uncooperative folk those injuries if they didn't comply with the demands of the clan.

The pair of them had just returned from a trader vessel, one that had taken one look at Nate and produced a tiny booklet with a crest on the front. Inside, a small picture of an unknown human stared back from the protected page.

The trader had immediately demanded a ridiculous price or a trade of more human memorabilia for the booklet.

Nate had to leave, his chest had gotten tight and he'd started to feel lightheaded.

Yiktar ushered the young man to his bed; a giant thing that was more for one or two of the fiks to curl up with Nate in the bed as well than a piece of furniture just for him .

"Hai, breathe Nate, yes?"

Nate nodded and breathed in through his nose, held it, then slowly let it out. He was already calming down, distressed as he was from seeing something so important, relegated to the breast pocket of an ursidain blood sucker.

Nate had to remain calm. His heart just wasn't strong enough to handle prolonged bouts of stress. If it skipped too many beats, then he'd be in even more trouble than just being upset about a passport.

"Saaah, there... Is good. Yes?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay Yik. I'm sorry for-"

"Hai! No. No sorry. Nate do nothing, Nate react... normal. Yes? Yes." Yiktar stated, asking himself a question and answering it just as well. Nate merely smiled and a single chuckle worked its way free of his chest.

"Why do you do that?" Asked Nate, smiling up at the fik, despite him crouching at the edge of the bed.

"What? Do what?" The older bipedal rat asked, his nose and whiskers twitching in genuine curiosity.

"Ask yourself a question and answer it?" Pointed out the human, feeling much better already.

"Sah! Simple. If one wants good conversation. One must look for intelligent ones for conversation. Yiktar need not look far, only as far as reflection." Yiktar explained, as if explaining something simple or obvious. Nate couldn't help but laugh, grinning up at the grizzled warrior who merely took on a look of mock hurt.

"Sah! Betrayer! Wounder!" Accused Yiktar with a wide grin, pleased with the fik's ability to distract the fragile human.

That distraction was short lived as the human's quarters opened to let in the clan ermin, a small army obviously filling the corridor outside, hushing one another to allow the ermin to talk.

"Sah, may I enter, young Nate?" Asked the white furred fik, leaning on a staff that she didn't quite need yet.

"Of course, you never need to ask Seer." Replied the human, who had the urge to shuffle off the bed, but the ermin, seemingly knowing what he wanted to do, gestured for him to stay sat down. She crossed the room with ease, sidestepping the coffee table despite having no eyes. Both having been replaced with nasty looking scar tissue years before Nate appeared.

"The clan has something that they wish to return to you." Rumbled the seer, before raising a hand and showing a small booklet, pinched between her claws.

"The passport? How could you-" But Nate's words died on his lips. The crest on the front of the passport, previously gold, was partially covered in red.

The ermin twitched, turned the booklet over, as if observing it, despite the impossibility.

"Ah, saaaah! A mistake, but minor." She mumbled, before wiping the booklet against her own fur. The pure white, went bright red immediately. But as she handed the passport over, it was now clean and no evidence of what had marred it remained. The ermin nodded.

"Back with its rightful owner." She rumbled again, before turning away.

"Not quite, wise one." Nate retorted. "I need to find its owner."

The ermin grimaced, and only turned her head, keeping her back to Nate.

"Saaah... An impossible task. Hai, but not for lack of intent. You would be wiser to honour the former owner, and protect it now. Whether by your hand... Saaah... or one you trust."

Nate flipped the booklet open.

"Joshua Embleton. He's dead, isn't he?"

The clan, still just outside, were perfectly silent. Yiktar, had his head bowed and had been still since the ermin approached. Only the human dare ask such a direct question of the clan ermin. She merely nodded once, before leaving, the clan parting for her like smoke.

The door closed and Nate was alone with Yiktar again. The fik rested a clawed hand against the human's knee and gave it a soft squeeze. The human frowned.

"What happened to the trader?"

"Sah, what trader?" Yiktar asked innocently with a blood thirsty grin.

[punkrockhistory]

40 years ago today

D. Boon with The Minutemen at 9.30 Club, Washington DC, July 26, 1984.

Note the slightly oversized setlist 🤩

Photo by Jim Saah.