#and i know i am in dire need of a lobotomy

[pawnshopsblues]

yesterday i went to see a film and there was live music outside the cinema and the band was playing black velvet by alannah myles…and then today i had lunch in a cafe and a violin cover of can’t help falling in love started playing as soon as i noticed there was music playing…then i went to a thrift store and of course there just had to be an elvis record at the very front of the stack where i started looking…i know it’s completely silly but i just feel elvis everywhere and it’s so so comforting <3

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Fractured Memories

Past =-= Next

Author's note: More of Ramiel's journey in Husbandry. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Feldarim.

Warnings: Addiction, restraints, Petras Being Petras, Let me know if I need to add anything.

Summary: Ramiel remembers what sin he committed that caused him to nearly die at his mentor's hands. Although, he doesn't understand why it caused his Mentor's wrath to turn on him so near fatally.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Ramiel was helping tend to the Reclusiam, carefully cleaning the floors and tending the other needs and chores to keep the most holy place within the Base fully sanctified and in proper order. He pauses in his work when he sees some of the older Chaplains, and politely greets them, before continuing with his work. They nod towards him briefly, before continuing on to their more important duties and tasks.

He finishes the chores and continues on with his other duties that he’s been assigned for the day. Helping tend to cousins and elder brothers with what they are struggling with emotionally and spiritually. Those whose struggles seem more dire he dutifully informs his superiors of their increased need.

One of the Imperial Fists had bowed his head and shamefully admitted that during one of the fights that he’d had with a Corrupted Emperor’s child he’d gotten a low dose of their poison in their system. 

At first he thought his Blecher’s gland would fix it, and it had. But, the elder brother said with hunched shoulders, he’d grown to start to crave a bit of that Slannesh cursed poison and he’d realized that if he continued to go on with the addiction, that it would likely cause him to fall. Which was much harder on Ancient Terra, but possible.

“This must be a painful burden to bear,” Ramiel says, as he keeps his voice calm and steady, trying to keep his hearts beat from speeding up as adrenaline surges in his body.

He sends an urgent message to Chaplain Feldarim, this sort of situation, he’d been told by his older brothers and cousins, should be escalated to the highest ranks as swift as possible once he hears of such things. 

Ramiel knows that there is a chance that this elder brother could recover from the addiction. The recovery rates of this sort of addiction are low, very, very low. But with help from Chaplains, his squad, and an Apothecary team, it’s possible. Slightly more possible on Ancient Terra.

“Thank you for speaking these painful truths to me,” Ramiel’s mouth says for him, “I have scheduled an appointment for you to speak with Honorable Chaplain Feldarim to discuss this with him at length.”

“I… thank you, Ramiel,” The First Born Imperial Fist says, “Do you know when that appointment will be?”

“In three hours,” Ramiel says, “please stay within the Reclusiam until he can speak with you, sir.”

“... I have duty shift in an hour,” The First Born Imperial Fist replies.

“By Order of Honorable Chaplain Feldarim,” Ramiel says as he looks at his text-vox communicator, “You are to remain in the Reclusiam until he says otherwise.”

“I shall hear and obey his wisdom,” The First Born Imperial Fists says, although he sounds more than a little frustrated.

“Thank you for your cooperation in this important matter,” Ramiel says, “The seats in the pews are comfortable in row three, you should seat yourself within them, sir.”

Those were also the pews that had automatic restraints, should he turn combative, or the twisting slow corruption decide to push this Elder Brother to do something… foolish or dangerous, whether to himself or others. 

Not that Ramiel is going to tell this elder brother that. Thankfully the Elder Brother Imperial Fist does go to sit in those pews, unaware of the potential trap he’s willingly sat in.

Ramiel continues his duties within the Reclusiam, trying not to seem nervous, as he’s been ordered by Chaplain Feldarim to stay within the Reclusiam to help monitor the slightly Corrupted Imperial Fist. 

He will also need to make a report on everything in person to what the other had said, his body movements, and emotional reactions. He is glad, even if it felt like those three hours had lasted three decades, or so it had felt to him.

Chaplain Feldarim, among others, enters the Reclusiam and goes to the Imperial Fist that he was messaged about and speaks with him. Assessing his condition, as the older Son of Dorn who’s been… Afflicted. 

After Chaplain Feldarim does his initial assessment, the Elder Son of Dorn gets sent to the Apothecaries for a battery of tests. Ramiel is quietly, patiently waiting, watching this all happen, while not directly or overtly watching what’s going on. 

He continues to work on cleaning the floors of the Reclusiam until Chaplain Feldarim approaches. Ramiel pauses his task and turns to look at him, briefly glancing at the highest ranking Chaplain in the face, briefly, before looking slightly up and to the left.

Direct eye contact could be considered Challenging those in Authority above you, and it was something that could upset his Elder Brother Black Templars a lot. Especially the Honorable Chaplain Captain Petras.

“Thank you for sending me that urgent message, Ramiel,” Feldarim says to Ramiel. “With some luck, and skill, we should hopefully be able to save him from Chaos, due to your quick actions and his own admittance to an issue.”

“You are welcome, sir,” Ramiel says, bowing his head a little.

“I’d like your report on the situation,” Feldarim asks after a moment or two of silence.

“Yes, Sir,” Ramiel says before rattling off all of the details that he’d noticed. From the smallest of details to the largest. As even something that might seem insignificant, could actually be Important.

Feldarim quietly watched him as he rattled off everything that he’d seen and heard. He’s also written a report and sent it off promptly to his direct superiors, properly flagged and tagged per the regulations for such things.

It’s one of the times that he’s glad he listens to Catius Rants about Proper Procedures and Paperwork Combat. As terribly dull as that can be to listen to at times, it does help with Expediting The Process Legally.

“Thank you for the verbal report,” Feldarim says calmly, “please do not speak of this to anyone else.”

“Yes sir,” Ramiel says, bowing his head, even as his stomach continues to tie itself into lots.

“Well done, you may go to lunch,” Feldarim says, dismissing the younger Chaplain.

Ramiel bows his head again and swiftly exits the Reclusiam. Part of him had perked up at the simple words ‘well done’ from the highest ranking Chaplain in the base. It felt wonderful to be given praise. Even if he isn’t sure he deserves it for doing his job properly. 

Ramiel is walking to the cafeteria when he’s suddenly struck with a memory that has him continue to move automatically, but slowly stop moving as his eyes go blank as his mind falls back into memories.

Ramiel is heading where his Mentor currently is located, he’s got some important paperwork that needs his signature. He knocks on the door to the other’s office, and he hears a movement and a grunt.

He walks into the room and sees his mentor, he’s half out of armor, for some reason, he notices some strange dark markings, almost like the beginnings of a tattoo on his torso, before he can fully recognize what the design is, his mentor’s eyes glare at him.

“What are you doing here?” his mentor asks with a wrathful snarl, “I was expecting a more worthy individual to show up at my door at this hour.”

“Forgive me, sir,” Ramiel says, deliberately not looking into his mentor’s eyes, as he tries to keep his voice calm and even, “I have paperwork that Captain Andolous wanted you to sign off on.”

Ramiel noticed some strange almost glowing vials of something on his desk that he doesn’t recognize. He also sees a box of something, open and dark, medium, and light brown colors. The scent of the brown things smells sweet.

“I’ll take that,” The Honorable Chaplain Captain Petras says, snatching the paperwork from him and glancing at it briefly before setting it down.

Ramiel’s hearts sinks in his chest as he sees one of his mentor’s fists curl as the other puts his torso armor back on as he stalks towards Ramiel and back hands him across the face.

“You shouldn’t have come in,” his mentor snarls, “unless I expressly allowed you to do so.”

“Yes sir,” Ramiel says automatically as he stops himself from protesting the fact that he had heard the other make a noise of approval for his entry. His mentor tracks his gaze to the strange, sweet smelling things  and the glowing vials and his rage increases.

“Keep your gaze away from my personal business Boy!” His mentor roars at him with an even angrier glower.

“-iel?” He blinks and turns to look to see who was speaking and couldn’t stop himself from flinching as he sees Apothecary Zariel staring at him.

“Did you need something, sir?” Ramiel says, his eyes briefly darting towards the other and then away. He’d been warned by Claude and Cedric about the teal in the other’s armor.

“You seem… lost in thought, young one,” The Apothecary says, slowly trying to come closer to him.

Ramiel automatically steps away from the First Born Space Marine, “I … was, thank you for snapping me out of it. I apologize for wasting your time.”

“I didn’t say that,” Zariel says, his voice turning honey smooth and soothing.

Ramiel’s hearts dropped into his stomach as he continued to inch his way around and away from the First Born Marine. His eyes dart from Zariel to the hallway surrounding them, and he says, “I think Chaplain Feldarim needs your help in the Reclusiam sir.”

“...Very well,” Zariel says, although the sharp look in the other’s eyes, the teal showing his eyes, rather than true ocean blue, has alarm sirens sounding in his head. “I’ll speak with you later, Ramiel.”

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.9}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 1.5k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

A glimpse into the eighth week of travels (or the third week of August):

"I told you this was a terrible idea!"

"No you didn't!"

"Well, I should have!" Snape hissed quietly and rolled his eyes, but the painfully loud roar coming from the creature that was currently creeping up on them made him drop the annoyed act in but a second.

While it had been rather easy for Robin and Snape to enter the huge system of caves and tunnels they found themselves stuck in now, and even easier to gather the crystals they had come to Sweden for in the first place, the gigantic bear-like thing standing in front of them obviously hadn't taken too kindly to them intruding in its home. Or perhaps it just hadn't found anyone stupid enough to wander into its trap quite so deeply in a while.

"We're still too far underneath the ground to apparate out, right?" Robin whispered in badly suppressed panic, not daring to take her eyes off the creature in front of them that was effectively blocking their only exit.

"Unfortunately…" Snape replied just as distractedly, while both he and Robin slowly backed up into the tunnel they had just come from. It only led them down further into the caves again, further away from the exit. Damnit, things had gone so well up to this point… They had just been on their way back outside when this enormous creature had appeared in front of them out of nowhere. Silent as night, fast as light.

It came approaching them just as slowly as they were backing up now, but the coiled muscles that were visible under the short fur told Robin that it wasn't long until it would pounce. And then there wouldn't be any time left to think of a spell that might have saved them.

If she had learned anything from her years of classes on magical creatures, it was to never just use a random defensive spell if one didn't know what kind of creature they were dealing with. At least not if there was any other choice. Since neither she nor Snape knew what the thing in front of them was though, they were left with the only other choice currently available to them: running. And they only had one way left to go.

"If we can get to the gap in the wall a good hundred feet down the tunnel, it won't be able to reach us anymore. The space is too narrow." Robin breathed in a tone as calm as she could manage with her heart racing like it did. "Then I can look up what it is and how we can get past it. I have a few books in my backpack we'll have to check."

"But we will literally be stuck between a rock and hard place then, in a space we might not get out of again! That really is a terrible idea."

"You have a better one?" She huffed, resisting the temptation to roll her eyes. No answer. "Thought so. Now, it would be faster than us at a distance like this… Can we distract it somehow?"

"You can distract anything if you know how to." He replied, but went straight on instead of making her guess like he usually enjoyed to do. "It lives here in darkness… A very bright light should irritate it for a moment."

"Are you guessing or do you know that for sure?"

"It is an educated guess."

"Great…" Robin took a deep breath, then released it again slowly to calm down her body enough to function. "Let's hope we're both right, then."

"What?"

"We run." She whispered while drawing her wand out of her sleeve. Then, fast as lightning itself, she sent the brightest possible light directly at the beast in front of them, a broken second before grabbing Snape by the arm and dashing off down the tunnel. Neither the beast's furious roar stopped them, nor the sound of thundering footsteps echoing through the space behind them with a shocking pace that came closer by the second. Stopping meant dying, and Robin had no intention to do either.

To their luck, the crack in the wall she had seen wasn't as far away as estimated, barely 80 feet from their original position, and it took them only a few painfully long seconds to reach. Robin didn't hesitate to squeeze herself through the narrow gap and pull Snape right with her, even if it meant they were both pressed against the opposing walls, and even more pressed against each other. Well, better embarrassed than dead. They managed to get a few feet away from the opening before the crack became too narrow, but going by the size of the animal that had arrived outside their awfully tight prison by now, they would need as much distance to it as they could get. Even if that left them pressed together chest to chest, with hardly enough space to breathe at the same time.

Safe from the immediate danger for now, Robin closed her eyes and let her lead drop back against the wall as she tried to catch her breath. It had been sheer dumb luck that the crack had been wide enough for them to fit in… but they had, so she wouldn't waste precious nerves on wondering what could've been otherwise. At least she'd had the brains to take off her backpack before squeezing in here, or it would now be stuck between her and the wall. Much like she was stuck between the wall and Snape. Honestly, this was a highly dangerous situation, could her pathetic touch starved body please not react to it like that?! Bloody hell, being human was stupid sometimes. She had an angry bear-like thing reaching for them with its gigantic claws a good few feet to her left… and all her brain could focus on was Snape. How oddly comforting and exciting at once it was to feel his chest heaving against hers. How neither of them knew where to put their hands without being an awkward mess. How close his face was above hers.

Good gods, Robin! Danger! Angry bear! That stupid little thing called brain; use it, idiot! She took another deep breath to calm herself down from either distraction, but it left her with too little air and too much of his scent. He smelled like rain and sunshine at the same time, coloured beautifully by a hint of timeless depth and delicacy. Oh bloody hell… who was choosing to torture her like that today? Changing strategies, she decided to breathe through her mouth instead, which at least solved one of her problems.

"So… that worked." She got out after a moment of finally being able to calm down indeed.

"Apparently."

"Is this the kind of thing you meant when you said I might run into trouble, at the beginning of the holidays?"

"Not precisely, but it makes for a better reason than the original one, so I might as well say yes."

Robin had to snort at the comment, and she couldn't believe how he managed to make her laugh even in a dire situation like this. He probably hadn't meant to, but it was quite the astonishing achievement nonetheless. One only he seemed to be capable of these days. At the very least, it helped calm her mind back down to a working pace now.

"I better get us out of here, huh? As much as I enjoy being stuck with you, it's getting a little hard to breathe." She said before she thought better of it, and then could only hope that he would put it off as humor in return. Either way, she went to pick up her backpack from the ground where she had dropped it, trying to somehow get a hold of it without being able to turn around or bow properly.

"Will you stop moving already?!" He grumbled after a few seconds of her struggling to reach down far enough and thereby pushing him into the wall even further, but Robin ignored him until she finally had a grip on the leather bag.

"Sorry, I didn't have a more spacious gap in the wall to offer." She rolled her eyes, then pressed her bag against her hip with one arm and reached over both their chests with the other to summon out her books. "Help me find that beast out there in the paperwork and next time I'll make sure to find us a space to get stuck in that's more to your taste."

"Don't be ridiculous, this one is perfectly fine." He objected in an instant, and Robin quirked an eyebrow at him with a humored smirk while he seemed to realize what he had said, and rolled his eyes in return. "Just find the creature in the bloody books, will you?"

"Give me some light and I will."

______________________________

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[emilieautumnarchives]

Gothic Beauty Interview (3/15/2010)

Original Link last accessed 1/3/2022

An Interview with Emilie Autumn

Emilie Autumn, known for her virtuoso skills in the “Violindustrial” department and guest appearances on a plethora of recordings from Courtney Love to Metalocalypse and beyond, has just released a deluxe version of her already cult hit, Opheliac, in a deluxe edition and is publishing the Asylum book imminently. Emilie Autumn was kind enough to cozy up (under a spectacular fan-made quilt!) with us on her North American tour.

So you can’t have just decided in a think tank to put together all this stuff ‘cause it would look great on a merch table – Oh I SO wish I would have, that would have saved me SO much time (laughs)

Nothing this neat and fantastical could be that formulaic – at what point in your life did you really start devoting so much of your energy toward the creation of this? Because it’s not just music or just aesthetics, this is an entire package – It’s a world, is what I try to make. That’s why it seems to me very easy now, is because it seems like usually you try to get all these skills together, people together, performers or music or whatever, and then you try to make them into a world – but – the way that this is gone, it’s like you have the world, and then you just populate it, and then you just show people what’s going on with those people in that world. It’s just so much easier to do – the unfortunate thing is, in order to have that world, you have to have had some pretty goddamned traumatic life experiences because that’s what makes it so that your brain needs to – it’s not choice – needs to develop an alternate reality… Usually it’s because you’re in a situation where you can’t survive, so in order to do that you need to create something else. For me, this was out of an attempted suicide and getting locked up in a psych ward. There, you’re stuck; you’re getting fucked with, and then you have to create a world that you can live in or someone to talk to, and so that association with the asylum of now versus the asylum of that era came together and I started to learn how there wasn’t very much difference between the two… And that is… really not a good thing, and that there should be, and we really haven’t progressed from lobotomies, we’re still being experimented on – that’s the connection between the girls and the lab rats/plague rats, it’s like “who’s the lab rat now?” You know, when I go to my shrink, a while ago, and things aren’t working and so he says, “well I have to put you on Lithium” and I say “ok, that scares me, tell me how it works”, and he says “honestly we have no idea.” So, who’s the lab rat? And, knowing all drugs that I’ve been on have been tested on rats first creates this little bit of a synchronicity of like, “thank you for your sacrifice, I’m sorry”, there has to be a better way to do this, and I don’t even know what it is, but right now we’re all being tested on, we’re all in this shitty asylum together, and so what happens here is just that we’re telling the world that I’m talking about, it’s what became so huge, it’s what the Asylum book is, it’s everything. And so, everything that you see, or even a piece of merch, or a painting, or a song, or anything that happens on stage is like a tiny shred of a scene or picture that happens in that place. Which isn’t here. And, so much so that it has become a real, physical thing. But that’s the thing where I like to get all crazy, that’s where I can’t tell where I am a lot of the time, because it was such a dire situation that it became so real… and I think I’m there a lot more than I’m here, I dream in that world, and I talk to those people, and I think what I’m doing now also has the element of reconciling; it gives me a chance to live in this world that goes like that, where I would be the crazy psychotic schizophrenic on the street babbling to myself in other voices if I weren’t. But here, I get to do that because it’s very theatre, it’s acting, right? Although, maybe it’s not… But as long as everybody thinks it is, then you don’t get locked up. And try not to take all your sleeping pills at once!

One of the biggest curiosities I think for our readers has to do with this spectacular imagery you have… Your aesthetic tastes, or ‘proclivities’… (Giggles) Yes…

Well, a lot of images seem to be kind of manufactured now, so I think it captures the imagination of people to see something so personal come from an artist, as opposed to… Right, and then people doubt that it is, because nobody actually believes you can (she gestures wildly to illustrate expressive performance)…

Well, once in a while they do, because they’re used to it being kind of more of a merchandising angle, as opposed to a personal expression… Yeah! Yeah, no I get asked all the time how much of what goes on (on the stage) or how you look generally or anything is the “character” as opposed “to the real Emilie Autumn”…

It’s like seeing Gene Simmons with his make-up off for some people. Right! But the thing is I never… Well the whole reason why the show, and the music, and the whole career generally exists, is to give me the luxury of being able to be myself all the time. The ultimate compromise for me would be to be a secretary and to have a 9 to 5 whatever, where I had to wear things that I didn’t identify with – this is the ultimate luxury, and I’ve built all of this, by hand, myself, from ages ago so that I could represent myself all the time, not so that I would have to put on a mask and hide it. The image in general, the show, the music, all of it is absolutely the most me it could possibly get. And that just grows every day – like my whole goal of life in general; and it’s all about just how close to “you” can you actually get. It’s like, I don’t know who I am, and I’m trying to figure it out – I don’t think anyone does. My life goal is just to be as much myself as possible, not even knowing what that is, but trying to get closer and closer and weeding out the things that you know are not yourself, and that don’t make you comfortable. I’m comfortable when I’m on stage. And I’m relatively protected, up there, which is why you get to do things like slit your wrists or take off all your clothes or roll around on the ground or whatever it is… That’s when you get to do that stuff, because if you’re even – you know, and I’m not terribly big, but – even at this point you generally have a security guard at both sides of the stage, to where, somebody could still shoot you from the back of the room, but… chances are…

Chances are… Chances are it’s not gonna happen, at least not every day, and you’re going to be more protected than you would at any other point in everyday life, so I can do more on stage and in this whole little environment that is mine, than that I wouldn’t have if I weren’t doing this. This had to happen so that I didn’t have to be somebody else. It’s all me, and it’s never not, and there’s no point where – and that goes for all of us– where everyone just goes back, takes off their makeup, and turns into a different thing. All of our characters are based on versions of who we are; I am me. The girls, what they represent (the Bloody Crumpets), is basically a slightly more sparkly – because of the crystals – version of who they exactly are, they didn’t get planted with a role, they are themselves. So everybody gets that thing that they would never – so it’s really about freedom and being able to show who you are rather than putting on an act. Because I would have to do that if I were a secretary.

I think this is especially frustrating for those who have to negotiate a self that’s very different from what their lives or jobs require of them, would you agree? Right well to try to be artistic or creative in any way… Most people – if they knew what was involved – they wouldn’t even want this job. Those people should be doing that thing where – and it’s not even derogatory – where it’s much easier to be told what to do. To have to actually be the boss, and create this whole world and all of the business side of it and everything yourself, and having no security other than your own psyche saying “you’re doing a good job”… Most of the time nobody either tells you because they think you already know, or even if they did, you wouldn’t pay attention to them because you’re so self-critical – if you’re the type of person that gets to be the boss – because you have to be. Basically I don’t think it’s a job – as fun as it might look from the outside – that most people would even want. If they had any inkling of what it actually takes. It’s probably easier, and happier, and just a nicer life in general to just – be normal. But I think it’s just like, genetically in me “you’re either that or you’re that”. You’re either onstage or you’re in the audience. And that’s pretty much what everybody is divided into. So we might as well just enjoy it because that’s what we have to do! (goofing off) “I just have to be a star, it’s so terrible!”  www.emilieautumn.com