#dream sequence? dream sequence yeah

[belladonnaprice]

.

[danikatze]

[ID in alt text]

Quick sketch because this was beautifuuul

[thedesertpenguin]

Flushed, sweaty, scared, yeah this is the kind of shit I’ve been looking for

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

"The figure in my backyard"

A couple refs of The Figure Mark saw in my recent HSH Fic!

(Complete cut nightmare sequence (Still canon but couldn't be fit into the fic itself) involving this fella below the cut, along with one of its other forms-)

Mark couldn’t recall why he was in a field. He looked around, seeing the sun shining down on the seemingly infinite field that surrounded him, stretching as far as he could see with only the occasional maple tree decorating it, along with a lone deer that was grazing behind them. He looked down, seeing he was dressed in a black suit, being clothing he didn’t own normally, aside from the cross necklace still around his neck. Sure, he had a suit for prom, but it was a rental; why is he wearing one now? He looked up, pausing when he saw something in the distance in front of him, being small stone pillars in rows, standing up from the ground. With nothing else of interest around, he stepped towards it, slowly approaching it to see that the “stone pillars” he saw were actually gravestones.

Lines and lines of faded gravestones, with none marked aside from the date of birth and death. Mark walked down one of the rows, noticing that not one of the graves had flowers or any form of decoration or offerings; simple, grey, rectangular slabs of stone with no name engraved. He stared down at the graves before looking forward and seeing one with no date engraved either, standing above a large, rectangular hole in the ground. Mark paused in front of it, hesitantly looking downwards to see the hole went down indefinitely, with it getting too dark to see anything. He looked back up at the headstone, its words being unclear and unreadable, smudging and warping in his sight. He felt cold air hit the back of his neck, causing him to turn around, freezing when he saw Cesar, though Mark didn’t even have to look very long to realize that it wasn’t Cesar whatsoever.

Cesar’s eyes were being held open by an invisible force, exposing the muscles underneath the stretched out eyelids. He had a soft, close-mouthed smile as he stared back at Mark with an unblinking gaze, as if he was unable to blink whatsoever. He wore a yellow bowtie with a black tuxedo, one Mark remembered him wearing at the same prom Mark went to, albeit wearing a different colored bowtie and a yellow carnation instead of a rose pinned to the lapel. Cesar continued to stare at Mark as he backed away, his heel reaching the edge of the hole before he stopped. Mark wanted to speak, though found himself unable to, as any and all thoughts he could say got caught somewhere between his brain and his mouth. Cesar smiled wider, or attempted to anyway, looking as if he was trying to open his mouth but couldn’t. His mouth was just a thin layer of skin when he tried to smile wider, stretching over some sort of maw as Cesar began inching closer. Mark stared at the façade of his friend before his foot slipped, causing him to fall backwards with a horrified yell as he plummeted downwards.

Mark looked upwards, seeing “Cesar” staring down at him as he fell deeper into the pit, wondering where the bottom was until he fell into a body of liquid, his back stinging from the impact as he began to sink. He shook his head, beginning to frantically swim back to the surface before resurfacing, taking in a deep breath as he looked around, seeing nothing but a black void around him, only being partially illuminated by the light from the opening above. He looked down at himself, seeing that he was coated in a layer of thick, deep crimson blood, staining his clothes and weighing down his ratty hair. He screamed in horror, wading to keep himself above the surface as he looked up, his wide eyes staring back at Cesar’s.

Cesar remained still, staring at Mark, not once responding in any way to Mark’s pleas and cries for help. Mark paused, his confusion and horror growing when he saw multiple other figures show up above the pit, staring down at Mark while all dressed in what appeared to be funeral clothing. He saw some faces he recognized, and some he didn’t, all staring blankly down at him without expression.

“H…HELP ME!” Mark begged, trying to suppress his sobs before he felt something grab his leg. He looked down, seeing bloodied, thin, mangled arms clasping onto his clothes as Mark struggled to keep afloat, looking back up to see that the hole was being covered by something. “DON’T LEAVE ME HERE!” Mark screamed as he reached his hand towards the dwindling light. “DON’T LEAVE ME!”

(The dream ends here, and he just wakes up. also. here's what "Cesar" looked like:)

[rainbowpufflez]

“If I could go back, one thing I would do / Try to unravel, cut down, and unscrew / The first double helix that links me to you”

Wow, get a load of these guys. What’s wrong with them?

Also song inspo if anyone would like it! It’s where the top quote is from!

[pinkgrapefloyd]

tory nichols x lady macbeth monologue

[scissor-spider]

This newest vip episode is truly the finale of all time

[earlgodwin]

neil jordan has the opportunity to pull the most galaxy-brained idea possible by announcing the borgias film focusing on cesare's redemption arc and his final years and adopt francis ford coppola's style in the godfather part iii with a similar plot in a renaissanic way since cesare is michael corleone's counterpart. as he tries to patch it up with lucrezia for putting his ambitions above her just like how michael did with kay, being remorseful over murdering juan to take his army like how michael was remorseful over murdering fredo...give it to me now!

[cubitodragon-moved]

Also, has anyone else noticed that after his Deep Sleep, Fit hasn't mentioned a single word about memories, or forgetting, or even what he was having the Deep Sleep for..?

Anyone? Just me?

Oh.

[the-words-we-sung]

Wilhelm + touch - [part 7: s2e1] [part 1] - [part 2] - [part 3] - [part 4] - [part 5] - [part 6]

[fieriframes]

[SO IT DOESN'T STICK, BUT IT ALSO KIND OF CREATES THIS LITTLE BIT OF A FRIED TEXTURE. YEAH. SOUNDS LIKE AN OMINOUS DREAM SEQUENCE ON A SHIP IN ALASKA. HOT. I LOVE TO FEEL THE BURN.]

[even-disco-baby]

SOLA — Her Innocence, Sola— the anti-innocence— turns to face you. In the distance, you hear the tattoo of propellers, turning, sucking all the air. A strong wind whips her long, dark hair around her face. Her simple black gown billows behind her. The same gown she wore the day she resigned.

She has your eyes.

“Hi, Kim,” she says simply. “You don’t look well.”

PAIN THRESHOLD — Her voice is so familiar, and yet the moment she stops speaking, you cannot recall its sound, no matter how hard you try. And you have tried. Innumerable times.

AUTHORITY — What makes her think she would even *know* the difference between you looking well or unwell? She’s being presumptuous. She doesn’t even know you.

INLAND EMPIRE — She never will.

“I’m doing great, actually. Never been better.”

“Hey, I’m trying my best.”

“I’m *not* well. I’m so fucking unwell. I can’t take it anymore. Please, help me…”

“I’ll live.”

SOLA — “Hm…” She smiles apologetically. “Well, that’s all we can really ask for anymore, isn’t it?”

EMPATHY — She wishes more than anything that this was not the case. That you could ask for the world and have it.

RHETORIC — She tried to give it to you, and this is how you repay her? You’re gonna be in *deep* shit trying to explain that insignia you stitched onto her jacket.

“Um, about the jacket. It’s not what it… well, no, it *is* what it looks like. But I don’t— it’s— there’s nuance.”

“Is that really all you have to say to me?”

“I don’t know what to say to you.”

“Where are you going?”

SOLA — Her Innocence looks away from you, toward the wind. “Away,” she says, her voice distant and strange. “Yes… I’m stepping down, you see. The world doesn’t need me. It never needed me, really. It’s best for humanity to think for itself. No… it already *does* think for itself.”

She turns back to you with a small smile. The thought brings her peace.

PAIN THRESHOLD — But what does it bring *you?* She’s leaving you forever. Abandoning you for lofty ideals.

AUTHORITY — Let her go. Let her see how little you care. Don’t give her any satisfaction.

HALF LIGHT — Stop her. You won’t be able to live without her.

VOLITION — You have already lived almost all your life without her. You don’t need her. You have *never* needed her.

“What if the world *does* need you? Who are you to make that decision for the entire world?”

“Fine. Go. It’s none of my business.”

“So you’re just going to leave me behind again.”

“Please, don’t go. *I* need you.”

SOLA — “What else is an Innocence appointed to do?” Her smile turns wry. “You see? This is why I’m stepping down.”

Distant propellers turn and turn in endless circles. She glances toward them.

YOU — “Fine. Go. It’s none of my business.”

SOLA — “I suppose not.” Her voice and her face betray nothing. No sign of remorse.

YOU — “So you’re just going to leave me behind again.”

SOLA — “That was never my intention,” she says softly. “Surely you know that.”

INLAND EMPIRE — You will never truly know. No one will.

SOLA — She stares out at the horizon through the tendrils of hair that almost seem to threaten to swallow her. Her expression is strange and ambiguous, shifting every time you try and look directly at it.

YOU — “Please, don’t go. *I* need you.”

SOLA — She looks at you, and her eyes are full of what might be genuine sadness. But they could also be full of anything else.

“Oh, Kim… You must make do with what you have. I don’t know what else you want me to say…”

RHETORIC — What?! There are a million other things she could say! Forty-one years worth of possibilities! She could say *anything!* Anything at all… Even if she’d only left you a single word, it would be better than this…

VOLITION — It’s pointless to wish. Please, no more of this. It’s too sad.

“You could say that you’re sorry.”

“Say that I turned out all right.”

“Say that you’re proud of me. That you love me.”

SOLA — “Then I’m sorry.” She closes her eyes. “It was terrible of us to leave you alone.”

Her voice is utterly calm and emotionless.

PAIN THRESHOLD — No… Wrong, all wrong…

YOU — “Say that I turned out all right.”

SOLA — “You’re a good man despite it all. That is all I ever hoped for you.”

Again, there is no warmth to her words. No conviction.

VOLITION — Lieutenant… Please, don’t do this to yourself.

YOU — “Say that you’re proud of me. That you love me.”

SOLA — “I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished. You wear that jacket well.”

Her eyes have nothing behind them. A pair of two millimeter holes in the world.

“I love you.”

PAIN THRESHOLD — Your lungs seem to constrict at her words. Your chest hurts more than it’s ever hurt. This wind is hard to breathe in.

YOU — “No! Don’t you fucking get it?! You don’t love me!”

SOLA — “Then I don’t love you.”

YOU — “You should be *ashamed* of me!”

SOLA — “Then I am ashamed.”

YOU — “I betrayed you! I betrayed everything you stood for! I’m a fucking cop!”

SOLA — “Then I am betrayed.”

She proclaims it as dispassionately as she proclaimed her love.

YOU — “For god’s sake, *say something real!*”

SOLA — She just looks at you. The propellers keep on turning.

DRAMA — She can’t speak for herself, sire…

LOGIC — Of course she can’t. Of course…

PAIN THRESHOLD — Your lungs feel like they could collapse. Empty, crumpled, dark. Hot tears prick your eyes for the first time in what feels like a long time.

SOLA — “Do you understand now?” she asks gently.

LOGIC — She cannot speak for herself because you do not know what she would say.

There are many memories that you have been slowly recovering, little by little. Your mother will never be one of them. Her, the revolution, the aerostatic brigade— they all died before you could even comprehend loss.

AUTHORITY — You did not become a detective so that you could find your lost mother. You became a police officer because you did not want to end up like her.

VOLITION — She can neither forgive you, nor condemn you. She is dead, Lieutenant. She can only be what you make her.

RHETORIC — You’re asking your own echo for answers…

SOLA — “Humanity must think for itself,” she says again, turning again toward the wind. “What point is there in asking me where to go from here? I’m a failure. We all failed…”

RHETORIC — The revolutionaries failed their children, and the children are failing their parents, and all of them are dying, dying, dead… What’s the point in any of this anymore? I cannot argue in favor of any of it.

VOLITION — There is a point. There is a way forward. But you won’t find it here, Lieutenant.

“I hate you. You made me everything I am and then you just *left.*”

“I miss you… How is it even possible to miss someone you never met? It’s like someone ripped a part of me out and all I can do is bleed.”

“I don’t know what I am. I need you to tell me what I am.”

SOLA — One last time, she turns back to you. She slowly bridges the gap between you and reaches out a hand to cup your cheek. Her fingers feel like your own.

“You are whatever kind of animal you choose to be,” she says, so quietly that you don’t know how you can hear it over the distant roar of engines. “I cannot make that choice for you.”

EMPATHY — She died hoping that you would grow up with the freedom to choose to be whatever you wanted. Instead, the world that raised you hardly let you dare to want anything.

VOLITION — But you can still make a choice. Humanity can still think for itself.

[j4y5t4g]

HERE THERE BE MONSTERS

bonus unprocessed speakers

[velvetjune]

i played the remastered alan wake a while back and am replaying the original on steam, and, honestly, they’re so similar, I couldn’t tell which is which if you held up comparisons. ive come across reviews about the game looking outdated and bad (mostly compared to other releases in that time), but the original looks great and I like the hazy dark lighting for both this and awan

[stingyslegslookweird]

had a dream last night that rick astley was in the donbrothers. he didn’t transform or anything, he was just there.

[secretmellowblog]

Me: I'm gonna stop procrastinating and create a Les Mis comic! Finally, I'll draw something related to the main story! Me: Okay step one is doing in depth research on the historical boats of the period (similar to the Orion), what these ships and their harbors would've looked like, and creating an extremely high-effort historically accurate 3D model reflecting that research-- Me: oh god. this is why Victor Hugo does all those history tangents...ive been in the fandom long enough to attempt to start making my own Digressions