#bonescraper

[juhnkit]

Motivational Music in the Morning ... Machine Head, Bonescraper (Official Music Video) ... from the Album: Unatoned (2025) #MMitM1 #MachineHead #Bonescraper #Unatoned #2025

[darkevolnrg]

🔥 MACHINE HEAD Release New Single & Video for “BØNESCRAPER”

Unleash your inner darkness—UNATØNED drops April 25 via Nuclear Blast Records Bay Area titans MACHINE HEAD are back with a brutal vengeance. The band just dropped a high-octane music video for “BØNESCRAPER”, the second single from their upcoming eleventh studio album UNATØNED, and it’s every bit as feral, emotional, and relentless as fans hoped for. 🎥 Watch the “BØNESCRAPER” Music Video🎧 Stream…

[lyrics365]

Bonescraper

Gold This house of gold is crumbling Bones We scrape our bones to numb the pain Love is just a loaded gun Compromise will get you nowhere Arguments and pointless warfare The price of love is the price of heartache Your tongue a knife pointing every mistake Angels and devils cry Tears across the bridge of sighs These demons, addictions Chaos we’ve sewn Gold This house of gold is crumbling Bones We…

[jubertee]

Matt Eberflus on the 2025 Cowboys Defense: 'We Will Take the Ball Away'

Take the ball.

That’s the simple yet firm directive Matt Eberflus has set for the Dallas Cowboys defense in 2025.

Speaking to reporters on Tuesday, the former Chicago Bears head coach and newly appointed Cowboys defensive coordinator laid out his vision for an aggressive, playmaking unit.

"Pretty simple: We will take the ball away," Eberflus stated via the Cowboys’ official website. "We will stop the run, and we want to create exciting plays for our football team."

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This philosophy comes as no surprise from Eberflus, who previously spent seven seasons (2011-2017) as the Cowboys’ linebackers coach before moving on to become the Indianapolis Colts’ defensive coordinator and later, the Bears’ head coach.

Eberflus’ defenses have consistently emphasized stopping the run, forcing turnovers, and maintaining resilience under pressure. Creating takeaways has been his defining trait—between 2018 and last season, his Colts and Bears defenses ranked in the top 10 in takeaways every year except 2022, when the Bears finished 14th.

Last season, even after his departure, the Bears still ranked 10th in takeaways (24 total), while the Cowboys were close behind at 12th with 22.

Following a turbulent 4-8 start in Chicago that saw heartbreaking losses and unrealized potential, Eberflus was dismissed. However, his return to Dallas was far from unexpected, given his prior ties to the organization.

"I was here for seven years, so I know the [Jones] family well," Eberflus said. "I know the community, I know the fanbase, and it’s exciting to be back. What excites me the most is working with the players, the Jones family, and Brian Schottenheimer."

In an intriguing twist, Eberflus now seeks redemption after his first head coaching tenure ended abruptly, while Schottenheimer prepares for his first season as an NFL head coach.

For Eberflus, though, returning to a pure defensive role is a welcome change.

"I’ve always loved putting together game plans, working with players, and calling the game on Sundays," he said. "Going up against the top offensive minds in this league is something I truly enjoy. For me and my staff, creating defensive strategies is a passion."

A major piece of those plans will revolve around Micah Parsons, arguably the most dynamic player on Dallas' roster.

As Parsons prepares for his third defensive coordinator in as many seasons, Eberflus is eager to unleash his potential.

"Micah is an elite pass rusher," Eberflus said. "We’re going to use him that way, of course, but he’s also a phenomenal athlete who can do so many things for us. When you have a guy like that, you want to maximize his skill set. As we get to know him better, we’ll find ways to utilize his strengths even more."

"He knows that our goal is to put him in the best possible position—whether in terms of pass rush, positioning, or assignments—to do what he does best: get after the quarterback."

Since being drafted 12th overall in 2021, Parsons has been a game-changer for the Cowboys. The same, however, cannot be said for 2023 first-round pick Mazi Smith, who has struggled to make an impact. In 17 starts last season, he recorded an underwhelming 34.8 overall PFF grade.

Still, Eberflus remains optimistic about Smith’s future in his defensive scheme.

"I’m excited about Mazi," he said. "I liked him coming out of Michigan. He’s a really explosive athlete with great size and mobility. I’m looking forward to helping him elevate his game, and I believe he absolutely can."

For Eberflus, this marks a new chapter—but with the same guiding principle he’s always preached: take the ball.

[nxmeolvides]

i like your hiding spot.

Ana had split from the others the moment they’d heard the facility door open: venturing further into the facility building on purpose, in the foolish hope that he’d track her down, go for the long hunt instead of the easy option of the others trying to sneak their way back out. If he focused on her, if he cornered her, she told herself she could handle it. Tough it out at least a little longer. But it still doesn’t mean she wants to be caught. Ideally, she’ll just keep him searching a little while, and somehow sneak her own way back out. Bloody footprints mean that she can’t hide her path all too well, her mind turning over and over as she moves quickly but quietly through the abandoned building. Sticking to the overgrown grasses pushing up through the concrete where possible, she tries not to leave too clear a trail: but the blood on her thighs sticks to the weeds as she passes through, and their rustling does her no favours in stealth. Heart pattering in her chest, Ana keeps to the walls, occasionally pausing to listen, and creeps her way through the maze of corners and doors until she finds herself at the backrooms. Sure he’s still following her, she slides herself through the closest doorway as quietly as she can - certain that the building will continue to sprawl ahead of her, maybe even lead her to another well she can drop down. Instead, she’s met with a locked door. 

And hearing footsteps approach, Ana realises with dread that there’s no gaps in the walls to slip through. She’s cornered herself, well and truly.

It’s too risky to go back out - she can deduce that in a heartbeat. With no other choice, she turns to the locker taking up so much of the back wall of the room: but it’s just as old and decrepit as the rest of this place, and the hinges squeak in process no matter how gently she encourages them to move. She’s sure he’ll hear it. This place is his playground - Ana’s certain his ears will prick at a singular sound that’s out of place. But there’s nothing she can do. No bonescraps at hand to defend herself, only a lockpick that she’d pocketed: and that was only in case anyone else needed a backup. Ana balls herself into the corner of the space, sinking downwards and willing that he’ll overlook it. Move on, or even decide he’s wasted too much time in here, and head back to the open space of the rest of the slaughterhouse property. Her eyes stay locked on that sliver of light between the doors - and her heart drops as the backroom door creaks open.

She shouldn’t have gone off on her own at all.

“I like your hiding spot.” Slow, heavy footsteps bring the man right towards it. The overwhelming bulk of him comes close enough to block out the light, and her heart slams against her ribs, terrified as her fingers itch with the urge to reach for the screwdriver tucked into her waistband. Barely daring to move, but needing to protect herself, she reaches for it –

And right as he wrenches the doors open, her hand closes around the handle. Ana drops downwards, trying to avoid the reach of his hands, and kicks out hard below one of his knees: trying desperately to make the man stumble just long enough for her to scramble out beneath his grasp.

[rw-deactivated]

How Love Works

Genre: Romance

Word Count: 617

OCs involved: Elliot Phearson, Liberty Bonescraper

Challenge: Write a conversation between your characters talking about love.

A/N: This story belongs to my Writing Challenge. The prompts I used were in bold.

"She's worth dying for."

"You're an idiot."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"And how is that, Libby?" Elliot sat up, leaning closer to hear what Libby had to say. "How can you be so certain of how love works?"

"I didn't say anything about being certain, I'm just saying that you're a lovesick idiot, that's all."

"Tell me more about it."

Libby finally lowered her book and said, "Are you being sarcastic?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"I want your opinion."

She scoffed, turning a page from her book, "Love isn't always about death and sacrifice or any other drippy stuff couples do to prove undying love."

Silence sat between them for a while. Libby sensed Elliot's sincere curiosity and continued, "Why do you need to die when you and your lover can defeat the nemesis together? Choosing death is terribly unwise if you asked me."

"But how about the things worth fighting for?" Elliot reasoned. "Family, friends...isn't bravery a very laudable trait to possess?"

"Well, yes. But bravery is different from idiocy."

"So you're insinuating that my love for Harper was just a mindless act of a fool?"

"I didn't say anything of the sort."

"Reasonably, you didn't. But your constant drop of inklings made me realize that you see love differently as I do."

"Perhaps. But love is a very strange word with varying definitions. An excessive commitment promoting a sense of ownership is a shallow form of affection. No one owns anyone. And no one is obliged to act or behave according to what their lover desires. You can be your own self while being involved in a romantic relationship."

Her opinion quieted him along with the previous questions he could throw at expected answers. But none of his expectations fitted what Libby said. He sat upon the cushion, arm draped over the armrest.

"Jesus, Libby, I just said she's worth dying for and you've already come up with a philosophy."

Her book was halfway in her face when she spoke, "Your idiocy has inspired my better judgment of how things work."

He laughed, stood up, and squeezed himself on Libby's chair. "Harper is not even aware of my affections," he confessed.

"I know."

"You knew?"

"Intuition. Elliot, I'm very mindful that you and Mayworth couldn't even last in a room for an hour. It even surprised me that you liked her."

"What time is it?"

"12:47"

"Isn't it time you go to bed?"

"I could ask you the same thing. You came here at eleven like a ridiculous moonshine, grinning over into nothingness with the thought of her. If I were you, I would be very sleepy right now."

"I've been here for an hour and I didn't even realize it. How jolly!"

Libby grabbed her quilt and threw it over her shoulder, "You're not making sense again, Elliot. You better get some sleep."

Libby turned around to pick up more of her books littered on the ground when Elliot spoke, "I'm not fond of Harper. I came here for a single reason but I guess you answered my uncertainties twice more than I expected."

Libby faced him and searched for the mischief behind his eyes, "Are you being silly again?"

"Liberty, I would be very privileged to love a woman who can endure an hour with me and sort out reasonable beliefs I'm not even aware of. And it's not Harper Mayworth."

He smiled before walking away, saying a good night in midway.

"It should be a 'good morning' though," Liberty thought to herself. And if she's being really honest, it wasn't the only thing she observed about Elliot Phearson that night.

***

Navigation

[dailyadventureprompts]

Ally: Scroungerfriend, the Vulture Spirit

Can I have that when you’re done with it?  No I don’t really care what “it” entails, I don’t consider myself to be very picky.  

Adventure Hooks: 

While exploring a tomb or hopelessly lost in the badlands, the party encounters a most bizarre woman, heavily burned over most of her body, seemingly unperturbed by the elements despite only wearing a ratty feather cloak. she sorts the remains of a number of desecrated graves/ fallen animals, cheerily chattering to herself while stacking them in neat little piles like she was  gossiping over brunch. After receiving directions and maybe a cryptic riddle, this bizarre woman will disappear, leaving only bonescraps and a foul smell behind her. 

Time’s running out for the party to discover the location of their quarry, be they villain on the run or hidden bandit camp. Just as it seems like another day is closing on their failure, the heroes discover a vellum scroll hastily inked with a map to where they can find those they seek, delivered to their quarters sometime before dusk. Just who left it? Can they trust this sudden windfall or is it a trap? Do they have time to ask these questions before the moment is lost? 

Getting to town after surviving a monster ambush on the road, the party is greeted with an unusual mystery: one of the taverngoers reports seeing the old lord’s huntmaster about the market earlier that day, despite the fact that the huntmaster died fourty years ago after being caught out in a lighitng storm. The taverngoer reports this imposter buying butcher meat, sugar cakes, and numerous other sundries, which only makes the mystery deepen after the party checks into their room(s) and finds these items delivered as semi-personal gifts 

Careful hunters and scouts know to look for vultures as a sign of where something might have died, and adventurers are known to seek out the birds for hope of finding something to loot. Lately however the observant members of the party notice an uptick in the number of vultures following them, possibly hinting at some dire omen. These portents do not limit themselves to mere bird sightings however, as the party may discover themselves dreaming of goreslicked bones and old tombs, or the persistent fluttering of heavy wings. Even oracles who seek to peer into the party’s future will see hints of vultures, though it will take one truely insightful to be able to tell them WHY. 

Setup: A minor psychopomp that has long haunted the wilderness, the death spirit that calls itself Scroungerfriend has long contented herself with feeding off scraps, overseeing the deaths of animals or swooping in after a war to pick over a few of the lingering souls of the fallen while helping herself to the choicest bits of corpsemeat. 

Chance encounter leads Scroungerfriend to cross paths with the party and she stalks them thereafter, trying to remain unnoticed while feeding off their kills as she pleases. As the party grows in significance and their deathcount climbs, so to does the vulture’s involvement, simultaneously looking out for her new friends while steering them gently towards slaughter.  That’s what friendship is, right? She helps them here and there and they leave lots of cloven souls and juicy corpses for her.... what are friends for after all~ 

Almost always smelling of piss and rotten meat, this spirit takes the form of an overly large vulture, unnerving woman ( sometimes calling herself Griselda), harpy, or feathered drake depending on the location. On rare occasions when she has to “pretty up”, Scroungerfriend will take on the appearance of someone she’s eaten, often a lost traveler, soldier, or someone who’s culture practices sky burial. 

Further Adventures: 

The each member of party only starts having the dream-hints at the psychopomp’s presence after they get knocked down to 0hp, and will thereafter receive flashes of wings and bones and whispering voices whenever they go unconscious. These ominous hints become a face to face confrontation when one of them dies, and Scroungerfriend swoops down to collect thier lingering soul. After the party is done mouring their friend’s fall and is deciding what to do with their fallen comrade, play out a scene where the psychopomp introduces herself and offers to take the departed to their chosen afterlife.. Scroungerfriend is delighted at being able to talk to one of her favorite new people face to face, but is disappointed that they’ll be going soon... so disappointed that she MIGHT just sneak their soul back into their body, before the other death-spirits notice, but just one time favor, right?   This gives the party a chance to save their friend all over again, as they briefly revive and then instantly begin dying of their wounds once again. Scroungerfriend is hesitant to perform this scavenger’s miracle again, as each time it risks drawing the attention of ghastly scavengers or powerful creatures that oversee the mortal coil. 

 Centuries of mucking about in corpses has led Scroungerfriend to develop an affinity for grisly forms of divination ( bonecasting, haruspicy) , which the party can request that she can share, on the understanding that she does her best work when provided with a fresh death to power her insights. The death of an animal may provide enough power for a simple yes/no augury, where as a full battle will fuel a proper divination or speak with dead. The death of a powerful creature or significant individual will provide even more insight into the future, allowing the party to benefit from a contact other plane spell. Each of these true readings tires Scroungerfriend out, and she must wait a day between each or risk exhausting herself, though she’s more than happy to cast her collection of bones and do a bit of baseless fortunetelling for her friends whenever she’s asked. 

[cloudstrifing]

wip tag game

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it.

tagged by @eddiethehunted thank uuu i havent done one of these in YEARS and your snippets are all blessed btw

i do not have a wip folder per se. every folder can be a wip folder if you believe in yourself. anyway here is a selection of things i have worked on during nanowrimo:

attempt again; various scraps

lw stuff

brennanX

spaceg

thingy1

thingy contd

renorude

cityofthedead

curlyfries

zenisol_redux

bölya

aeloris chronicles random scraps????????

bonescraps

x

ghgs

tagging @nattvingen @5tellarparallax and ummmm @sleapygazelle ​ @hyena-frog ​ @reassembleme ​ idk if y’all are writing these days but if so feel free 2 do this or to ignore! xx

[doyourememberrocknrollradio]

Fear Factory - "Bonescraper"

[pokemonbutch-fr]

Magma babies for sale!

The last ones sold like hotcakes so I’m happy to sell another two darling Guardians!

These are hopping on the AH for 75g each, but I’m happy to run a CR for Treasure or Mixed payment! Also open to trading for Banescales, feel free to offer!

Both of these dragons have lore! I’ll be describing them in this post, but follow the links in the reblogs to read the whole thing! If you buy them, the lore is yours to change/use as you please!

Both of these dragons are also part of the 6 dragons who are Giraffe/Facet/Veined, all of which are their family members!

Male Guardian | Sable Giraffe | Sunset Facet | Sunshine Veined | Fire Rare

Bonescraper here is the older brother, and has a fascination with something buried deep under Dragonhome. He doesn’t know what it is, and he hasn’t found it yet, but he spends every day looking for this mysterious thing that calls to him.

1 of 7 active dragons with these colours!

Sold!

Male Guardian | Sable Giraffe | Peach Facet | Peach Veined | Fire Rare

Mirage is gifted with magic coursing beneath his scales, where his veined gene is now revealing this magic to the world. He is very protective of it, and his charge is to protect his own natural magic by harnessing it and avoiding others who may try to steal it from him.

1 of 5 active dragons with these colours!

Both sold, thank you everyone!

[idleis]

What? #continuing #chewing #BoneScraping #teef #mine #NomNom 😋🐶🐾❤️ #pomchi #love #pomeranian #chihuahua

[nemorialex]

Simultaneously 

It was a peaceful evening. It was a downright boring and unremarkable evening, honestly. Toby was an angel, as usual, and Casey put up a bit of a fight before FINALLY allowing himself to be tucked in too. Which was also to be expected, the little fucker. His stupid husband was arguing with him about something he was wrong about while they worked together to take care of dishes. Yeah, it was a little late to be doing dishes, but he got carried away with the whole “loving family moments” thing. 

“She’s not FAMOUS, babe!” John was drying a mixing bowl, standing on tippy toes for a second before hovering up and setting the bowl away. 

“Listen, if you know about her, and she ain’t from around here, and like, a fuck ton of other people know her too, that’s what being famous IS.”

Zack shut the fridge door and turned to face his husband. 

It happened too fast. And he was a god of TIME. 

He didn’t even see the tiny black spot on distant the rooftop, or the silvery glint in the window. He heard the glass shattering but didn’t really register it. Somewhere in the back of his head he could hear the metallic, screeching crumple of the fridge. Maybe because his head was a very small part of the impact. 

He couldn’t. Breathe. He couldn’t feel. He felt everything and it was warm and burning and piercing and pain. He couldn’t see. He watched his husband drop something. Maybe it broke. Maybe John was screaming. Maybe he should be upset about that, or want to comfort him? He saw something long and silver (silver? black?) in front of him. It ended in his chest. It, and the rest of his front was getting red and slick. He could breath again, but only enough to choke out a sad and panicked whimper. 

At least he died quickly. That or he died kinda slow and his brain let him pass out before the actual end. 

The deep, steady thud of a heartbeat. The sharp, bonescraping feeling of a clock tick. What do those D-fib-whatevers sound like? High pitched and electric before- 

Zack opened his eyes and gasped and the first thing he did was pat down his front. No hole. Nice. Well, no hole in his skin. There was one in his old, comfy star wars shirt. Rest in piece, Luke’s face :( 

The kitchen was empty. Window glass and the remains of a cup. A huge pole was sticking out of a dent in the fridge. The fridge he was standing in front of a moment ago. A pole that was lodged between his ribs a moment ago. The door was struggling to stay in place. No blood- thank god, otherwise Zack might pass out again. But that wasn’t just passing out that was– 

Hey, change of subject, where’s John?? 

Zack frantically looked around the kitchen, then the living room, then- Okay good… Good, he’s fine and here and he’s got the kids and he’s taking them to the side, corralling them into different, smaller room. ‘No windows’ he thought numbly. His head was fuzzy, like he was just pulled out of a deep sleep. He stumbled over and clung to John as John was sending messages, texting on his phone. 

Zack’s mind was scrambling to catch up on what happened. Why had that happened? What was that? Why did that- He- The night was so nice a moment ago and the kids are so scared and John is shaking with fear or rage or maybe he’s crying? No maybe not. Don’t know, don’t know… 

But... Yes he does. 

He just died. Zack just died. Zack was just killed… He was murdered!

[ditusanexus]

The Disposable Autogenous #BoneScraper has a 2.5cc capacity with a 360 degree rotatable blade to enhance cutting efficiency. Order your single or five pack  https://bit.ly/3zT5ogp #DentalInstruments #DentalTech #DentalTools #DentalSupplies #DentalProducts #DenlMaterials

[8ofwolves-blog]

Unlearn me

     these are some leftovers

dethroned contingent

of wounds and words

These are not white petals

      but bonescraps

sharper

mirrors

and that throat floating in the river

was a false composer

© Agnieszka Mauch

[ufmailorder]

Noise Nomads [MA_Bonescraper Recordings] "A long time fixture in the New England experimental scene, Jeff Hartford has been spreading his unique brand of psychadelic harsh noise & visceral live perfomance with releases on RRRecords, Hospital Producitons, Load Records & his own imprint Bonescraper Recordings. Dastardly electronics & oscillating tones are knobbed into pitch variations in a way that maintain equal levels of aggression and abstraction, not to be missed." Eloe Omoe [MA_Animal Disguise] "Boston based drum & bass duo of heavy, relentless free-sludge. Driven by tandem tactics of low-end subterfuge & drum tumble, their aggressive abstractions and brown sound rumble have stopped shows, upset stomachs, rattled skulls, and melted minds. This is crisp and extreme rock rejection." Local support from_ REDNECK [Antropofago Ateo] EMS & Flysch [An Out Recordings / Total Black] "n a t u r a l g o t h" collaboration 06.08_Waypost starts at 8 & will end at 10:30 sharp $5-$7 donation for the touring bands

[gregthecoolnerd]

@bonescraping Fan since the first EP. Can't wait to see what's next.